“I don’t think so, sister’s son,” the older man hissed. “She’s not going anywhere. None of you are until the Ancient passes judgment.”
“What right have you—?” Truth began but he was interrupted by a vast rush of wind that nearly put the fire out. A creature like the ones that had attacked Truth and Far, but bigger than either of them, landed to one side of the clearing, obscuring Becca’s view of her men for a moment. Then it dwindled magically down into a bent old man with bright eyes, leaning on a cane.
“Ancient.” Truth’s uncle bowed low and then yanked Becca by the hair, forcing her to her knees. “Bow before the Ancient, wrex!”
Becca tried but she was shivering miserably and besides, it was really hard to bow with his fingers tangled in her hair, dragging her head back.
“Let me go!” she gasped, struggling against his cruel grip. He wasn’t that much bigger than her and she was tired of being called what amounted to a whore in the Rai’ku dialect.
“Yes, T’lar—let her go.” The little old man who Truth’s uncle had called the Ancient, came hobbling forward, leaning on his cane. When he got closer, Becca saw that he was wearing a pure white cloak that matched his bushy white hair and beard. Bright blue eyes peered at her from an incredibly wrinkled face. “Let go now. There is no need to brutalize this female child,” he said gently.
The grip in Becca’s hair tightened.
“I am only treating her like the wrex she is, Ancient. She deserves much worse than this for what she has been doing.”
“I will be the judge of that matter.” The old man put out a gnarled hand and Becca heard Truth’s uncle give a sharp cry of pain. Abruptly the fingers were withdrawn from her hair and she was able to lift her head again without someone yanking it back.
She breathed a sigh of relief and put a hand to her aching scalp. “Th-thank you,” she said in a trembling voice.
“Do not thank me yet, child. This matter is far from resolved. Now go to your mate.” He gave her a gentle nudge towards Truth and she stumbled to her feet and ran around the fire to get to him.
“Rebecca!” The dark twin folded her in his arms at once and Becca pressed her face to his chest and tried not to sob.
“It’s all right,” he said in a low voice. “I swear it’s going to be all right.”
“How?” Becca tried to draw comfort from his arms around her but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was dreadfully wrong—that something was missing.
It was Far, she realized, when she looked up and saw his large form sagging between Truth and Garron. He was still on his feet but she didn’t see how—he was clearly out of it. She could barely feel him at all through their link and without him, nothing was right or complete. Our OneMind is broken, she realized and knew it was true. The close connection she and her men had just started to share had been cut by a third.
“What’s going on?” she asked Truth in a low voice. “Why are we here? What are they going to do to us?”
“Depends on what the Ancient says,” he muttered back. “It’s best to be quiet and listen.”
They didn’t have long to wait. The old man was already pacing around the fire, humming a soft, tuneless song to himself that almost sounded more like a meditation chant to Becca than a deliberate tune. At last he came to a stop before them and raised one bushy white eyebrow.
“Very well—what has brought you all to me on this night?”
A babble of voices broke out.
“These interlopers were profaning our laws!”
“They were sharing a single female between them!”
“They have been seen defacing and molesting the elder trees!”
“Enough. Enough!” The Ancient spoke in a surprisingly strong voice and raised one wrinkled hand to stop the noise. “Now,” he said when everyone was silent. “These are serious charges. I will allow you, Truth, to answer for them each in its turn.”
“Thank you, Ancient.” Truth bowed his head respectfully.
“Very well, then. Let us take the most serious charge first—were you in fact molesting the elder trees?”
“Never,” Truth said. “We were searching for something beneath one—something my Kindred brethren on the Mother Ship desperately need. But we were very, very careful to leave the tree itself unmarked in any way. I have great respect for the elder trees—I would never harm one.”
The Ancient regarded him for a moment with those bright blue eyes and then nodded. “Very well. I see the truth of your statement. And how do you answer the other charge? That you were, a-hem, sharing a female.”
“I answer by saying that sharing is a natural part of what I truly am—a Twin Kindred,” Truth answered, lifting his chin. “I was raised here on Pax and for years I strove to become Rai’ku—as much as I could, anyway, when I have no dr’gin within. But recently I have come to know that I am not Rai’ku but Kindred. And as such, I must follow the ways of my true people. That is what Far and Rebecca and I were doing tonight—not that it was any of my uncle’s business.” He glared at T’lar. “But I suppose as he is not one of those who came bursting into Garron’s lodge to drag us out, he feels he has committed no crime.”
“What?” The Ancient turned to Truth’s uncle with a frown. “Is this true, T’lar? Were these Kindred and their female extracted from a private residence?”
“Well…yes.” The uncle was shifting uneasily from foot to foot, his red robes rustling. “But Ancient, they were profaning our laws and sharing a female. Listen to Truth—he doesn’t even deny it! And you know the penalty for such an act.”
“Yes.” The old man nodded slowly. “Yes, I am well aware of the penalty, T’lar. Do not presume to school me in the laws of our people.”
“Forgive me, Ancient.” T’lar bowed deeply but Becca thought she saw a smile curving the corners of his thin lips. Her stomach clenched like a slick fist and she pressed closer to Truth. What was going to happen now?
“The penalty…” The Ancient was pacing around the fire again. “The penalty for sharing a female is death—death for all involved.”
“No!” Panic crawled up Becca’s throat, choking her. “Oh, no!”
“Oh yes, my dear.” The Ancient nodded at her. “But I do not choose to impose that penalty tonight—not on all of you, anyway.”
“Why not?” Truth’s uncle demanded angrily. “What they did is unacceptable—punishable by death! How can you not sentence them all to—”
“I judge matters here, not you, T’lar.” The Ancient’s voice cracked sharply. “Or would you rather take the Oath of Blood and judge them yourself? If so, why did you disturb me?”
“Forgive me, Ancient.” T’lar bowed again. “Indeed, I do not wish to take the oath.”
“Very good. It is a heavy burden, deciding life and death. I do not think it would agree with you.” The Ancient nodded and then looked at Truth and Becca and Far again. “In the past, when two males both wanted the same female, they fought for her—fought to the death. You were not seen sharing her.” He nodded at Becca. “It has only been inferred. Therefore, it is my belief that you are rivals for her affection—not sharers in it.”
“Ancient,” Truth began, scowling but Garron interrupted him.
“Yes, Ancient, that is so,” he said quickly.
“Then a Y’grin—a fight for dominance and your female’s affection is what you shall engage in,” the Ancient said. “The winner will take her away, off planet, never to return to Pax.”
Becca couldn’t be silent anymore. “And…and the loser?” she whispered.
“I am sorry, child,” the Ancient said softly. “The loser will die.”
Chapter Thirty-eight
Becca felt like she was either going to cry or throw up.
My fault, whispered a little voice in her head. This is all my fault.
For once, she didn’t try to push the guilty little voice away. It was right—completely and utterly right—and she didn’t even try to refute it. Once more she had given in to her
desires instead of doing what was right. And once more she was going to be punished—by losing one or both of the men she loved.
“A Y’grin, is it?” Truth asked, his voice completely steady. “I bow to your judgment, Ancient, but who am I to fight?”
The old man frowned. “In such cases, you must fight your rival—the male who is challenging your right to your female’s affection.”
“If you mean my brother, Far, he is in no shape to fight.” Truth gestured at his twin who was still slumped between him and Garron. Far was no longer bleeding but he was still unresponsive, moving like a zombie and only then when someone pushed or guided him in some way.
“He does appear to be…incapacitated,” the Ancient admitted.
“He was clawed by S’reth in his dr’gin form,” Garron said. “There is poison in his blood—the stelsis has begun.”
“I will not fight him in such a state. I will not kill my brother—especially in cold blood,” Truth said.
“Well, but you must fight someone, Truth my boy,” the old man objected. He raised his voice. “Does anyone else lay claim to this female? Will anyone else fight to the death to retain her affection and gain the right to mate her?”
Becca felt a sick shiver go through her. Mother of God, was this really happening? Was she really about to become the spoils of war in some horrible contest to the death? And what would happen to her if Truth lost? She knew the dark twin would fight until his last breath to keep her but what if his opponent turned into one of those weird floating, flying, steak-knives-for-teeth creatures and ripped his head off? Would she be stuck here, eighty million light years from home, forever? Would—
“I challenge for the female,” Truth’s uncle spoke up, a cruel smile playing around his thin mouth. “I will be happy to fight to keep her.”
“No!” Truth glared at him. “You care nothing for Becca—you have never even seen her before a day or two ago when we first arrived.”
T’lar folded his arms over his chest. “Nonetheless, it is within my right to challenge you in the Y’grin. Just as it will be my very great pleasure to kill you and see to it that your wrex lives the rest of her short life in misery. Come, sister’s son, do you really fear to fight me?”
“No, if you will consent not to change forms. You have a dr’gin within you and I am O’ahn,” Truth said tersely. “The contest is not a fair one—we are not evenly matched. In your first form I could beat you easily, in your second form, you could kill twenty males such as myself.”
“I cannot help my strength, nor can I promise to retain my first form,” T’lar said silkily. “As all here gathered know, when one is fighting in a Y’grin, there is no limitation on what form one can use. Emotions run high and spontaneous transformations are inevitable.”
“Indeed they are,” the Ancient murmured. “I am sorry, Truth, but unless someone else challenges for your female, I am afraid you must fight T’lar in the Y’grin.”
“But—” Truth began.
“I will challenge.” Garron stepped forward.
“What?” Truth and Becca both turned to look at him at the same time. In the firelight, his turquoise eyes looked almost black.
“I said I will challenge. I will fight my older brother, Truth in the Y’grin for the right to this female,” he repeated.
“Garron,” Truth said in a low voice. “Why are you doing this?”
“I swore to protect your female with my life and to see to her safety while she is here on Pax,” Garron muttered. “This may be the only way to do that.”
“I see. And what do you have in mind?”
“Think, Brother.” Garron looked at him intently. “Do you remember how we used to play when we were children? The time we were using those sharpened sticks Apa told us to leave alone?”
After a moment, the dark twin nodded.
“Yes, they were sharpened into stakes for the pancha cage he was building. I do recall how that fight ended.”
“Good. Then you know how this one must end as well.”
Truth frowned. “Are you certain?”
“Even if you win the Y’grin, they will never let you go,” Garron murmured. “The moment you leave the Ancient’s clearing, the three of you will be set upon by every dr’gin in the settlement. You know it is true.”
Reluctantly, Truth nodded. “Yes. You speak the truth.”
“Then I am the only one who can challenge you in the Y’grin. The only one who can win freedom for your female.”
Truth nodded again. “Agreed.” He reached out an arm to Garron and they clasped briefly. “I trust you, Brother. Take care of her.”
“Wait,” Becca couldn’t be silent any longer. “What’s going on? What are you saying?”
“I am saying…” Garron raised his voice. “I am saying I will challenge for this female!”
“And I accept your challenge,” Truth roared. “Come and best me if you can!”
“I will best you and your female will be mine,” Garron replied.
To Becca, the exchange seemed somehow scripted—like words from a ritual which must always be said the same way every time.
“Very well.” The Ancient clapped his wrinkled hands together. “Then since both our contestants are O’ahn, bring forth the ghats.”
“The what?” Becca looked around fearfully but Truth and Garron were already stepping into the circle of firelight, getting ready to fight.
One of the Rai’ku handed something to the Ancient—no, two somethings, she saw. They looked like long, metal swords but instead of handles, they had a kind of metal and leather cuff on one end and a leather grip halfway up the blade.
Mother of God, she thought as both Garron and Truth strapped the long, deadly looking things to their forearms so that a good two feet of sharp metal stuck out past their fists. What the hell are those things? They look like arm bayonets or something.
“Are the ghats acceptable, warriors?” the Ancient asked.
Truth flexed his fist and then gripped the leather handle halfway up the deadly blade which was strapped to his forearm.
“Yes, Ancient.”
Garron nodded too. “Mine is also acceptable.”
“Good. Very good. I trust that you both know the rules—you must fight until one of you is dead. The winner may take the female and whatever spoils he wishes from the loser’s possessions. The loser forfeits everything, including his life. This is not a contest to enter lightly. Do you both still say that you must fight?”
“Yes, Ancient.” Both of them bowed low to the old man.
“Very well. Then you may—”
“Wait!” Becca ran forward and gripped Truth’s arm—the one without a ghat strapped to it. “What are you going to do? Are you seriously going to fight each other to the death?” She still couldn’t believe it—couldn’t make her mind process that this was actually happening.
“Rebecca…” Truth cupped her cheek gently and looked into her eyes. “We must fight the Y’grin. There is no other way.”
“But…but what if…”
“If I fall, Garron will take good care of you. Do as he says no matter what. Promise me that.”
“But I—”
“Promise.” His pale gray eyes flashed in the firelight.
“All right.” Becca nodded hesitantly. “I…I promise.”
“Good. Now go stand beside Far. With the dr’gin poison in his system, he’s in no shape to think or act for himself right now. You must guide him and stay with him. All right?”
“Yes. Yes, okay.” Becca nodded again, feeling numb. “But Truth…”
“I love you. Never forget that.” He leaned down suddenly and took her mouth in a fierce kiss that took her breath away. Then he released her and gave her a gentle push. “Go stand by Far.”
Becca stumbled back to her place in the perimeter of the crowd and grabbed for the light twin’s uninjured arm. Far made no sign that he felt her touch at all—he simply stared straight ahead, his black eyes open but unsee
ing.
Like a zombie, Becca couldn’t help thinking. What kind of poison is in those things’ claws anyway? Is there an antidote? Will Far come back to us?
Of course, a better question might be, would there be an “us” for the light twin to come back to after all this was over. Already Truth and Garron were squaring off against each other, the blades of their ghats glittering in the blue and green firelight.
Becca watched, her heart in her mouth, as Truth made the first jab. Garron stepped neatly out of the way, circled around the fire, and made a return jab of his own. Truth raised his arm and their blades clashed, shooting yellow sparks that hissed and fizzled on the freezing ground around them.
Mother of God! She put a hand to her throat, feeling sick as the two brothers feigned and jabbed, dancing around each other in a deadly contest as their blades clanged against each other again and again. She saw Truth make a swipe that drew blood from his brother’s cheek but then Garron returned the favor and it was Truth who had crimson rivulets running down the side of his face. And still they fought.
Becca wanted to stop watching but she couldn’t help herself—she had to see. She stood as close to Far as she could, trying to draw warmth from his big body but nothing seemed to help—she was chilled to the bone, frozen to the spot, even as her heart drummed wildly in her chest.
Could Truth actually do this? Could he really kill his own little brother to save her and Far? And would they even be able to get out of here if he did? Garron had seemed to think that the Rai’ku would attack them again, even after the Y’grin was over. What—?
Suddenly her attention was pulled away from the action when Far slumped silently to his knees beside her.
“Oh! Far!” Becca tried to hold him up but he was almost twice her size—much too big and heavy to support. He fell forward on his face like a tree falling in slow motion and she was helpless to stop him. The best she could do was try to ease him slowly to the ground.
“Far? Brother?” Truth shouted.
Becca looked up to see the fear and concern stamped on the dark twin’s face. But she saw something else as well—Garron was coming forward, the blade of his ghat aimed directly at Truth’s broad, bare chest.