The Barbarian Prince (28 page)

"No," she muttered with a wry smile. "He seems to get all weird when I mention being a reporter. It’s like he thinks I’ve suddenly contracted leprosy."

"What’s that?" the Queen asked, unfamiliar with the term.

"An old disease, we eliminated it long ago, it’s not important." Morrigan leaned forward, steepling her hands beneath her chin in thought. A heavy sigh came from her lips.

"Could it be he looks at you like that because you hide things from him?" asked Mede, her expression shining wisely.

"How are Nadja and Olena?" Morrigan asked suddenly. "Ualan said something about them having a scare?"

"They’re fine," the Queen answered, not wishing to change the subject. For emphasis, she repeated, "Could it be he looks at you like that because you hide things from him?"

"Like what?" asked Morrigan, seeing Mede was getting to some sort of a point.

"Or maybe he’s scared," the Queen continued.

"Scared? Ualan?" Morrigan grinned. Now, that wasn’t likely.

"Morrigan, when you say you notice a change in Ualan when you speak of it, do you mean you see it on his face? Or do you mean you feel it within you as if the emotions were your own?" Mede leaned forward, seriously copying her daughter’s pose.

"I feel it," she answered weakly, after consideration.

"That is because you do feel what he is feeling. And he feels what you are feeling. If you are discontent or wistful when speaking of travel and reporting, then he will feel your longing. He might even think you long to leave him." Mede smiled sadly as realization dawned on Morrigan’s face.

"But, how is it possible?"

"Qurilixian men are given a crystal when they are born. It is their guiding light. When you were paired by the crystal, your lives became joined in such a way that can never be taken back. You exchanged part of your souls. By crushing the crystal, you assured that the exchange would never be reversed. In a way, you are now his guiding light."

Morrigan gulped, frozen.

"Do you understand what that means for him?" the Queen asked.

Morrigan shook her head, her wide eyes fixed on the Queen.

"It means his crystal is broken. It means he put his every chance at happiness on you. He gave his life to you, Rigan. There will never be anyone else for him as long as he lives. That is a long time for our people, and for you. By giving you his life, he shortened his and extended yours so your fates could remain entwined. If you were to choose to leave him, he would be alone for the rest of his days. Without the aid of our blue sun, your life would play out like normal, maybe extended a few more years than usual. When he took you to his tent, it was his choice. When you stayed, that was yours. You’re it for him, Rigan. There will be no other in his bed or his heart. There simply can’t be."

"You mean he was a…." Morrigan blushed, realizing she was talking to his mother.

The Queen merely laughed, not so shied by the revealing question. "I doubt it. The Princes have occasionally left our planet for ambassador duties. And, distasteful as it sounds, there are several roving bands of … women with loose morals who make scheduled stops for the warriors. They are men after all."

Morrigan blushed.

"Don’t think on it. It was before he met you. Once mated, they do not go back to such things-- ever. Besides, there is something to be said for a husband with training." The Queen smiled and winked to show she was teasing. Morrigan chuckled. The Queen continued, "He won’t go to them now. He couldn’t if he wanted to. You would know right away. Besides, if he wanted to, you would know that too. He doesn’t desire anyone else, rest assured."

"And you’ve never regretted choosing one man?"

"Never, though around the one-hundredth year, they do start getting very inventive. It is something to look forward to." The Queen stood. "Now that I have you straight, I have other daughters to visit. I swear, when you have sons, Morrigan, be prepared. They will bring you a handful of problems. But, then again, occasionally they’ll bring you flowers and it will be well worth the frustration."

"Just like their fathers," Morrigan mused, liking the idea of having Ualan’s son very much. She wondered if he ever thought of it.

"Yes," agreed the Queen, thinking of her own stubborn husband. She kissed Morrigan’s cheek. "Just like their fathers."

* * * *

The news came that night that the men were off to battle with King Attor and his Var warriors. Agro had discovered from the spy that King Attor did indeed plan on killing three of the four Princesses. Olena, he wanted for himself, thus the attack on Yusef. Agro also learned Attor’s whereabouts and the Draig trackers soon had the position confirmed. It was a small encampment of Var on the southern borders of Draig land.

Morrigan was worried sick, but she had faith that Ualan would come out the victor. Besides, after what Mede told her, she was confident that she would feel it if Ualan was hurt.

The doctor came to check on her, reporting that all was well and she was nearly healed. She stayed up late, waiting until she could hardly keep her eyes open. No news came and she spent the night alone.

* * * *

"Here." Ualan’s voice was stern as he handed his wife her camera. He was tired and worn from the battle. "This belongs to you."

Morrigan glanced up in surprise. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore a simple linen shirt and relaxed cotton pants. She had asked Mede for any books she might have on the Qurilixian customs. To her delight, her new mother sent cartloads of information--history, law, art, trade publications, myths and legends. Nadja had lent her a translator so she could read them. It was slow going, but she was doing research and was having a ball. Besides, it helped the hours pass until Ualan came home.

The books were piled around her in a big mess, but Morrigan didn’t care. She jumped up, stumbling over them as she ran forward to greet the tired warrior. Morrigan threw her arms around him.

To Ualan’s surprise, she muttered, "I knew you were fine."

Looking over her shoulder, he was stiff and only half returned her embrace, holding back. It had taken him a long time to get the will to come to her. Ualan eyed the texts wearily, assuming she was doing research on his culture for her story. It didn’t stop him from handing her the camera.

Ualan pulled her back. And, lifting her hand, he set the eyepiece and emerald trigger in her palm. Slowly, he stepped back.

Morrigan blinked, confused by the gesture. She eyed him as she set it down. "Thanks."

Ualan nodded.

"What happened? They didn’t send word. Did you…?"

"King Attor is dead. We tried to arrest him according to our treaty and he called his troops to battle. Attor’s son will take the throne. Olek is speaking to the new Var King, negotiating a peace. It looks like our battles have ended, hopefully." Ualan could not feel the pleasure such a revelation should bring. It would be slow going, but peace could be achieved. Some of the older nobles would protest on both sides. However, in the end, they would bow to the decision of their leaders.

"That is good news, Ualan," Morrigan said. "I’m glad there will be no more battles between you and the Var."

"What are you doing?" he asked, ignoring her comment.

"Ah, just some research."

"Hmm." He handed her something else. "This is for you, too."

Morrigan took a slip of paper from him. She gulped, looking down to see a space ticket in her hand with passage to an Earth base that would take her home. Swallowing, she glanced up at him, and asked carefully, "What’s this?"

"It’s a ticket. In your name. One way to Earth. You’ll have to make a few stops. Qurilixian transports don’t usually travel so far."

"I can see that it is a ticket. But, what are you saying, Ualan? You want me to go? You’re sending me away?"

"I know you’re here to do a story, Rigan. Your communication with your editor was intercepted. I heard everything. You wish to tell of our lives, of our war with the Var, our marriages." Ualan sighed, too wearied to keep fighting her. "Well, there’s your camera. You should have all the information gathered that you need to expose us."

"Expose you?" she gulped, confused. "Why would I want to expose you?"

"You said that you wanted to take your film and expose me," he uttered. Though, his words held more question than certainty.

"When?" she wondered aloud, never remembering making such a stupid comment. She never intended to hurt anyone with what she wrote. Well, maybe Galaxy Brides Corporation--but she had been mad at the time. She doubted anything would ever come of it.

"When you were sick from poison," he answered. He took a weary seat on the couch across from her.

Morrigan blushed, suddenly remembering what was on the camera. The image of Ualan’s naked backside came to mind and she nearly fell over in her embarrassment. Unable to meet his eye, she uttered, "Expose does mean reveal, but it also means to develop a picture."

Morrigan was mortified. She could barely move. Her hands covered her face and she groaned.

"What picture?" he inquired, intrigued.

"I was going to keep your picture as something to remember you by," she mumbled weakly, not daring to look at him for a long moment.

At that Ualan smiled. His pleasure was short lived. She had picked up the ticket and was eyeing it.

"What are you going to write about?" he asked, cautious. She never said she was staying. But, she also never said she still wanted to leave.

"I was sent undercover to gather information about the brides and your planet. I was supposed to do an article on the four Princes at the Breeding Festival and the lucky women who they took for wife. It would have been a front page exclusive. Earth woman eat that romance stuff up."

"Lucky?" he interjected. She narrowed her eyes at him and his gaze glowed golden in response. She shivered. He won. She looked away first. "And now? What will you write?"

"I could expose you as shapeshifters I guess," she said. "No one knows about you."

"It would hurt us. We need brides and not many women would come to marry a dragon. We would have to go back to kidnapping, which is frowned upon. It could start a war with humanoid planets."

Morrigan nodded in agreement. His features were blank, but she could feel the pain her agreement caused him.

"The story would make my career," she said softly. "I would be able to get any assignment I wanted at any price."

"If your life back home is so important to you, then go. You have all the evidence and the story you need." Ualan stood. He was too tired from battling the Var and his own heart to fight with her. Sighing heavily, he said, "Go home, Morrigan. I will not stand in your way."

"What of us? Our marriage?" she asked, knowing all too well what he was willing to give up to see her happy. He was willing to sacrifice his lifetime of happiness and companionship to give her what he thought she wanted. No one else would ever sacrifice that much for her.

"You came here for me, not a story. The Gods brought you here to me and the crystal helped me to find you. And so it is I who is letting you go. I will not be the cause of your unhappiness."

She knew it was true. The story had always been an excuse. Part of her wanted to get away from her life. Part of her wanted to be protected and happy. She was tired of traveling, but had been unwilling to admit it before now. The dreams that were buried the deepest, were the hardest to get rid of. She had held tight onto her childhood fantasy of space exploration with both hands. The reality was nothing like the fantasy. Adventures were few and far between. The endless days spent alone in a space pod, traveling to a dank slime pit on the outer regions--that was the reality.

"I should call my editor," she whispered softly.

Ualan nodded, sad. He waved to his bedroom. "The communicator is up there. I thought you might wish to contact him with your flight information and have left orders that your communication not be monitored."

Morrigan stood, walking slowly to the stairs. The communicator and weapons were put back on the shelf. Next to them, she saw her crown. It looked different than she had first remembered it. Mede had told her in the hospital that it had been broken when she fell ill. Picking it up, she realized it glistened with the shards of Ualan’s broken crystal. It was beautiful.

Setting the crown down, she picked up the communicator and hooked it on. The floating screen popped up and, with a click-click, she dialed Gus.

She didn’t have to wait long before she heard the man bellow, "About damned time, Rigan. Where the hell have you been?"

"Hi-yah, Gus," she forced her tone light.

"Hi-yah? Hi-yah, Gus?" he demanded before calming. "I’m opening the lines, Rigan, send your story. It goes to press tomorrow. I’ve been holding the front page of the intergalactic edition for you."

"I can’t do that, Gus. I don’t have it."

"What? You still writing? Hum," he pondered. "Well I guess you’re calling for your annulment papers. I tell you what. You send me a story and I’ll give you everything you need to get out of that marriage--first class ticket and all. How does that sound, Rigan?"

"Sorry, Gus. There is no story here. I was wrong. Oh, and I quit."

"What?!" the man screeched. "You can’t quit on me, Rigan! You’re the best damned reporter I have. No one could cover that slime planet like you did! Come on, you can’t leave this business. It’s in your blood. You’ll go crazy without it."

"I found a Prince, Gus," she said, a soft smile on her lips. "And I think I am going to keep him."

Morrigan glanced up to see Ualan standing in the doorway of the closet. An affectionate smile was forming on his lips in understanding. Emotion flowed sweetly and openly between them, the one last obstacle having been torn down by her hand.

"Rigan?" whispered Ualan, hope shining brightly in his handsome eyes.

"It would make my career, Ualan," she whispered back. "But you make my life."

"Rigan!" screeched Gus. "I can’t hear you, what did you say? Oh, never mind, you’re talking crazy anyway. Listen, I’ll let you out of your contract no problem, but you got to give me an exclusive."