Wyvern’s Outlaw

  “A figure of speech?”

  “A truth. The capital city turned from the sun and the planet’s rotation slowed so that the city remains in perpetual twilight. The citizens live in terror and leave their homes as infrequently as possible. It is said that the hunger of the umbros is so great that they can influence the sun, the moon, and the stars.”

  Anguissa raised her brows but didn’t comment.

  “That they could change the rotation of the planet convinced many that they are sorcerers as well as predators.”

  Anguissa remembered the shadows in the arena, the flickering fires around the perimeter of its central ring. “That fear would minimize the chance of rebellion.”

  “It has.”

  “And what about custos? Where do you come in?

  “We always served the umbros. It was our place. But once they began to hunt the anima, they needed greater protection and our role grew in importance.”

  “You stand guard over their bodies when they hunt.”

  “More than that, Princess Anguissa. We guard their stories and their secrets, as well as caring for their physical form. Ours is a bond of great trust.” He began to put Anguissa’s device back together, his fingers nimble.

  “The fear of umbros is universal, even beyond Centurios.”

  “And for good reason. They are merciless predators.”

  “Yet you serve one.”

  “I had no choice, Princess Anguissa. I was born to be what I am.” Bakiel frowned. “Have you ever seen an umbro feast?”

  Anguissa shook her head, though she was thinking of Ryke’s dream. “Not exactly.”

  “It is terrifying to witness. The umbro slips into the mind of the host and devours the anima, turning the host into a creature commanded by the umbro. All entities fight this invasion to a greater or lesser degree. Nature has an abhorrence of it, and it is uncommon for the situation to last long.”

  “The host dies,” Anguissa guessed.

  “The host’s physical shell cannot sustain the anima of the umbro, not once it has devoured the host’s own anima. There is too much spirit, too much essence, and the faults in the shell break. It is not uncommon for blood vessels to burst and barriers to be compromised. Once begun, the destruction can’t be halted and such wholesale damage is nearly impossible to repair.”

  “But the umbro has the anima.”

  “And that is all the umbro wants. In times of war, the umbros can consume the departing animae from the dead, but when Centurios is at peace, the living become prey, just as they were all those years ago when their blood was sought by earlier umbros.” He worked quietly for a few moments. “It’s not a unique impulse to feast upon others. On other worlds, conquerors eat the hearts of those they defeat, wanting to take on the opponent’s valor. Triumphant warriors eat the brains of their foes, or other organs, wanting to build their own powers after victory. They all seek the anima, but only the umbros refined the means of seizing it. And so, on Centurios, a planet ruled by umbros with no moral code and no mercy, a society where one is born into a caste and remains there until death, a civilization that seems sometimes to exist purely to feed the appetites of its rulers for more animae, a prophecy was born.”

  “That one day the umbros would fall from power?” Anguissa guessed.

  Bakiel shook his head. “Change has to come from within when a society is ruled with such force.”

  “Or by invasion.”

  “No one would invade Centurios. The Gloria Furore hunt at the perimeter, wanting individual umbros for their own dark purposes, like predators claiming the isolated and the weak, but they have no desire to rule the planet. Centurios has weakened, for many will not trade with us, and many turn away our freighters for fear that they, too, will be invaded by umbros. Life is not good for those outside the imperial palace. Some even choose to be taken by umbros, to end their own misery.”

  Anguissa found that even more repulsive than Ryke’s original nature. She was outraged that any ruler would keep citizens not only at disadvantage but in despair. “What was the prophecy, then?”

  “That one day, there would be an umbro who would change Centurios, an umbro with a moral code, an umbro who outlawed the act of feeding upon the living, one who would seek and provide justice for all. And this umbro would be recognized because he would find his luxa, and they would rule together for a thousand Centurios years over an era of prosperity and goodwill.”

  “A tempting prospect,” Anguissa said, remembering Ryke’s determination to save Bakiel. That had been the first hint that he was different from her expectation of umbros.

  Bakiel nodded, his gaze fixed upon the device he repaired. “I was born to the lowest caste on Centurios, a caste devoted to the service of the umbros. We are assigned young to a specific umbro and sworn to serve him in all ways until our death. Many umbros feed upon the anima of their custo, when they haven’t feasted. It is their right to take what they desire, to choose. It is our place to surrender whatever is demanded of us by our umbros, without protest or delay.”

  Anguissa was horrified by this situation. “And there’s no reprieve?”

  “Death, at which time the umbro has the right to claim the remains of the custo’s anima.”

  “It sounds hopeless.”

  Bakiel nodded. “Unless, of course, one’s umbro shows signs of fulfilling the prophecy we hold so dear. It was after the battle for the imperial throne that Ryke changed. The fight for supremacy was between bands of umbros because the emperor had died with no sons. Some followed a man who’d chosen the emperor’s daughter, and others, led by Ryke’s father, staged a coup. The fighting was savage. The streets ran with blood as umbros skipped from host to host, undermining the supporting forces of their opponents and building the power of their own anima. Soon, there were few left alive in the capital city. There was no regard for the survival of the other castes. In the end, more than two thirds of the city was dead or dying and terror filled the hearts of those who survived. Ryke’s father crowned himself emperor and feasted slowly upon the animae of those he had defeated, as was tradition. Ryke declined to feast. He went into the streets and helped the other castes. It is rumored that he even shared of his anima and that he saved lives.”

  “Did he?”

  Bakiel gave her a steady look. “It is not my place to tell you all. But on that day, Ryke vowed never to slip again. I know this because we argued about it.”

  “Doesn’t his nature require him to feed?”

  “His anima was strong, but his will was stronger. I believed it could not be done, and feared we would lose the one umbro with promise.” Bakiel shrugged. “But he was adamant and he trained hard. For a time, I thought he might evade repercussions for his father seemed indulgent, but after Ryke had a son and the boy turned five, matters changed. Ryke was accused of treason by several senators for refusing to join the feast seven years before and for defying custom by aiding the other castes.”

  “And the punishment was to fight a hydra in the arena.”

  “It was said that his father defended his son privately, that he ensured Ryke faced a beast that could have been readily defeated. It was said that his father outlawed him only with great regret, because to not do as much would have cost him the imperial throne.”

  “Rumors,” Anguissa scoffed.

  “Rumors,” Bakiel agreed easily, so easily that she knew he shared her doubts. “And so the only thing of value to Ryke was taken from him.”

  “Access to his son.”

  “He was provoked into abducting the boy. Everyone knew he would do it. I thought it was too easy to steal the Starpod, but all know I have a suspicious mind when it comes to enemies of my umbro.”

  “And your loyalty is returned,” Anguissa noted with a smile.

  Bakiel nodded. “He didn’t have to return to the Magnetawan for me, but I knew he would.”

  “You believe that Ryke will fulfill the prophecy.”

  “He is an umbro of honor. He has found his
luxa.” Bakiel raised those pale eyes to meet Anguissa’s gaze. “Now all he has to do is persuade her to return home with him—to step into the fire, so to speak—so that a new day may dawn on Centurios.” He bowed slightly and returned the personal device to her.

  Anguissa checked and found that it was functioning perfectly again. She smoothed it onto her inner arm, smiling with pleasure. “Thank you, Bakiel! Are you giving Ryke a lot of water?”

  “Yes. The sedative will be flushed out of him as soon as possible.”

  “Good. Maybe this short jump will be easier for him than for us.” She glanced to the custo who nodded. “Prepare to jump.”

  Mareeqa.

  It had to be Mareeqa.

  Ryke tried to evade the dream but it was unshakeable. He’d exerted himself so much to show Anguissa what he wanted his child to know about him, that he was tired and the dream of Mareeqa had hold of his thoughts before he could stop it.

  Betrayed by beauty, one more time.

  In his mind’s eye, Ryke was striding toward the rental room, details of his scheduled breeding clear in his thoughts. He knew his partner had been chosen for the anticipated way her genetics would pair with his. Their offspring would carry the strengths of both partners. It would be a boy.

  There was no romance about it. Every detail was calculated for maximum effect. The only concession to popular superstition was that the child would be delivered—or labor would be induced—on the prophesied day for the grandson of the new emperor to be born.

  Ryke had declined the option of laboratory insemination. He wanted there to be no doubt that the child was his own. He had chosen instead for his selected mate to be quarantined with him for the entire period of her fertility.

  They would have three days and nights of sex.

  He would never see the mother of his son again after the birth. Her compensation was already deposited and would be released to her after the delivery of the healthy baby boy.

  Ryke would have a son.

  He had been chaste for two weeks to prepare. He was accompanied only by Bakiel on the day in question, as the plan for the conception was known to only a few.

  The hotel was a sumptuous one, with every pleasure available. Ryke was greeted discreetly in the lobby and quickly ushered to the reserved suite. There was a certain ceremony about it all, and Ryke wondered if their mating would be observed. He was informed that Mareeqa had already arrived, left Bakiel outside the door of the suite, then opened the door.

  Bakiel would stand watch. There were no other doors or accessible windows. Meals would be delivered by dumbwaiter, through a passageway too small for any intruder.

  The child would be his, beyond doubt.

  His heart skipped when the lock clicked behind him and his anticipation rose.

  Ryke knew Mareeqa would be submissive, because all women on Centurios knew their place. He was prepared for her to be pretty, as that would be superior genetically. He was certain she would be a princess, because that caste would be a suitable match for his own.

  He opened the door to the suite and she was standing there, waiting for him, hands folded before herself and head bowed.

  Ryke was astonished both that she was so beautiful and that his body responded to his first glimpse of her with such enthusiasm. Her hair was long and fair, curving over her shoulders and curling slightly at the ends. Her eyes were green and thickly lashed, tipping up slightly at the outer corners. Her lips were full and red, ripe for his kiss. Her curves were more than satisfactory and she was just a little shorter than him.

  Delicate. Feminine. Demure.

  Perfect.

  She was a princess, so soft that her only function in life could be to offer pleasure to a man like Ryke. The way she cast down her lashes sent fire through him. She was almost naked, wearing just a sheer slip of a dress, as if she was dressed in mist and nothing more.

  She was his to take.

  And he would take her immediately.

  Because all women on Centurios knew their place.

  Anguissa wanted to scoff aloud. She hoped desperately that Mareeqa would prove to have some intellect or spirit to contribute to the union, but was pretty sure she’d be disappointed. This princess had no spark, no spirit, no opinion and no ideas of her own.

  Delicate. Feminine. Demure.

  Perfect.

  Anguissa couldn’t think of a more boring combination.

  Mareeqa succumbed to Ryke’s kiss immediately, capitulating to him as if there was no other option. When he carried her to the couch in the suite, she lay exactly where he placed her, submissive.

  Passive.

  Anguissa saw that she had even lubricated herself in advance of Ryke’s arrival, to add to his pleasure. She couldn’t bear to watch the woman, who didn’t appear even to be present for the ritual. She might have been having her nails buffed for all the interest she showed in having Ryke make love to her.

  She was clearly an idiot.

  Instead, Anguissa watched Ryke, which had been impossible during their own mating. He moved with the grace of a warrior and had all the power she remembered. He was a glorious sight in his nudity, all tanned masculine power. Anguissa wanted to lick him from head to toe—or tackle him herself. His muscles flexed as picked up Mareeqa, his hand slid up her thigh to caress her. Anguissa recalled his deft touch on the controls of the Starpod and the surety with which he had touched her.

  Even though the Seed no longer called, she wanted Ryke again.

  Maybe twice more.

  She watched him ease himself into Mareeqa and was amazed that the woman seemed unaffected by his lovemaking. Anguissa could remember the thick hardness of him inside her, the way he had stretched her and filled her, her own hunger for more and more. Ryke gripped Mareeqa’s buttocks and lifted her up, driving deeper inside her. She was as limp as a doll, her hands draped on his shoulders. Ryke kissed her, he claimed her, and he found his release with a triumphant shout.

  Did he prefer women to be like this?

  Anguissa was disappointed that Ryke’s own thoughts were filled with satisfaction.

  Mareeqa smiled slightly, running her fingers through his hair as he rested atop her. Her impassivity would have infuriated Anguissa, but it seemed to incite Ryke’s passion. She watched as he took her again, from behind, and again, in the bathing room, then again just before the dawn.

  She wished she could turn off his memory. She had no ability to do that apparently—she tried—or to speed up the endless monotony of Ryke having sex with an inanimate object.

  And loving it.

  Finally, she couldn’t keep quiet.

  I thought you relived your failures in your dreams during jumps. I don’t think anyone could criticize your performance here.

  Jealous, Snake-Eyes?

  No. I’ve never understood the appeal of pleasure androids.

  Mareeqa wasn’t an android.

  She might as well have been. Did she ever have an orgasm? Is that what you see as a failure, that you couldn’t make an android respond beyond her programming?

  You are jealous. He seemed to find this amusing.

  No, but you’re far less than I thought, if this is passion worth remembering. I’m disappointed, Ryke. Only worthless men never take the risk of being out of control.

  He was silent and she knew she’d found the root of it. Ryke wasn’t nearly as confident as he liked her to believe.

  I could turn that around, Princess. Maybe it’s only worthless women who never take the risk of being out of control.

  But I did take that risk. I let you be in charge, Ryke. Maybe you remember me asking you to claim me.

  I remember. His words were low and pensive, sending a vibration through Anguissa that she wanted to explore.

  It’s a sign of trust, Ryke. How much do you trust me?

  More than I should. Ryke’s words were low enough to set Anguissa simmering again.

  Good, because you still owe me for Hellemut.

  They abruptly came
out of the jump, just when she was enjoying herself, and Anguissa felt like junk. Ryke slipped out of her thoughts and she realized she was becoming accustomed to the intimacy of having him so close.

  She missed him.

  She admired him.

  It was time to tell him so.

  Why had he dreamed of Mareeqa? Ryke hadn’t been able to think of anything else for those days in the suite, nothing beyond sex with Mareeqa, over and over again. He’d been consumed by his desire for her, yet while the memory provoked some reaction, the time with Mareeqa paled in recollection of being with Anguissa.

  The display flickered to life on the opposite wall of the chart room. Anguissa looked tired but she smiled. The sight of her sent an increasingly familiar fire through Ryke.

  He recalled the sense of being remade that he had in the vat of fire ants.

  He recalled the feeling of being changed when he and Anguissa had first made love.

  He avoided the conclusion Bakiel would have made, but still wanted to have one last union with Anguissa, before their ways parted forever.

  He wanted to give her something to remember.

  “Hello again and welcome to our final approach to the Centurios starport,” Anguissa said. “We’ve just come out of the jump, but have a little cruise before we secure a docking location.”

  “I know where the wormhole comes out of deep space, Snake-Eyes. This is my home, remember.”

  “I do remember, Ryke. I also remember that all princesses on Centurios know their place. Think I’ll be able to start an awakening?”

  Bakiel chuckled, revealing that he was on the deck as well.

  “Or maybe as an abomination, I won’t have a chance.” She leaned closer to the comm, her eyes dancing. “How’s that sedative, Ryke?”

  “Wearing off, thanks.” Ryke rubbed his chin, feeling some growth of beard. Two jumps in rapid succession and his belly felt empty again. “Why?”

  “Because I won our bet, Ryke, and I’m in command of this vessel. I’m thinking of giving you a direct order.”

  Ryke smiled, knowing exactly what that order would be. “I’m feeling particularly obedient, Snake-Eyes. Don’t miss your chance.”