TICEES (17 page)

Marri forced a smile. “Actually,” she began tepidly, her voice strained. “We probably have very little to discuss for now, but we shall see what the future holds for all concerned.”

Chelan heard a low growl surge from deep within Korba’s chest, and she knew without even looking at him that Marri had finally pushed him to the edge of a precipice from which he was ready to cast the warrior. But Chelan squared her shoulders further. “And so we shall,” she countered confidently. “But I can assure you that your future relations pertaining to my mate will always remain platonic, and I have many ways at my disposal to ensure that status remains so.”

Marri clenched her fists, her attention drawn to Lazen as a sinister smile traversed the man’s features. Instantly Marri knew that everyone in Chelan’s service would not hesitate in carrying out her wishes, despite the fact that the woman was an undeserving alien.

Marri took a step back, hesitated, and then forced herself to bow to Chelan. She straightened and waited patiently for Korba to grant her permission to leave.

Korba was impressed by Chelan’s show of strength, but his mate had just blatantly met Marri’s challenge directly, a situation that would soon require defusing on every level. His eyes bored ominously into the warrior, and then he simply nodded sternly to her.

Marri bowed to him and returned swiftly to her seat. Only then did Chelan allow herself a deep breath, sitting down slowly while steadying herself with the arms of her chair as her world began to tilt. Korba watched her momentarily as if expecting her to crumble, and then he himself sat. When all seemed calm, he summoned Lazen forward.

“Yes, my Lord?”

“It is time for us to leave. I will make an announcement, and then I want you and your men to escort the three of us out.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Korba waited for the hubbub caused by Marri’s approach to die down, and then he stood. The hall hushed. Korba had originally thought of introducing Chelan formally and leaving the whole thing at that. But Marri’s verbal assault forced him to reconsider his words. The law, namely his law, would be laid down firmly to them all. He wanted to be blunt and to the point, leaving no room for question.

“I hereby address the men and women of RIBUS 7 and 8, and in turn, the people of the Empire.” His voice boomed out over the masses, and all became very still. “I have presented to you the woman I have chosen as my Letted mate, and she will be treated with the same respect and reverence with which you hold me.”

He waited a predetermined length of time for his words to take effect, and then he continued. “Most, if not all, of you are well aware of my refusal to follow the ways of the Imperial Breeders. That decision is personal, and it still stands. But my decision to defy the laws surrounding the Let is now hereby announced.”

Korba’s eyes panned the crowd like a wary cat. But all were riveted to stillness, all faces directed to him, for no one dared flinch for fear of meeting the black-haired Warlord’s wrath personally.

“Any man,” he shouted fiercely, “who gets to know my Lady, and desires to challenge the Let, will meet me in hand-to-hand combat on the battlefield. But let him be aware of his double-edged folly. Chelan is not Iceanean, and any man fortunate enough not to fall by my blade, will not encounter a willing partner. The laws of the Let pertaining to the victor having the right to impregnate her are forfeit if she does not choose to comply. And any victor foolish enough to try forcing the conditions of the Let upon her will be tried and punished for the crime of rape.”

There was a hush of stunned disbelief that rippled through the hall, and Korba waited patiently, his muscles strung so tight they burned. Murmurs travelled throughout the crowd as they speculated about Korba pitting himself directly against the Lord God Emperor’s own decree. But they knew Korba’s strength and his all-consuming determination, no matter what his objective.

“In turn,” his booming voice startling some and drawing all eyes back to him, “any woman foolish enough to challenge Chelan had better rethink her decision carefully. Any woman who even contemplates such an act will die by my hand before she even has the chance to choose a weapon. Chelan is not Iceanean, and I will gladly act as her emissary of death.”

A hum ran rampant through the crowd as eyes widened. “Let it be known,” he interrupted, “that I choose no other, ever, and if by some momentous blunder, my Lady is dispatched, let no woman among you expect my service, for it will not be forthcoming. My word is final, and my most trusted friends and warriors will carry out my orders unquestioningly. There is no room for compromise.”

Again there was deathly silence as Korba’s eyes travelled through the masses. He waited for a time and then reached for Chelan’s hand. He supported her as he helped her to her feet, raising her beside him. He lowered his voice to a maleficent rumble. “Who here challenges the Let? Speak now, or forever be silent.”

Chelan could only look down at the floor helplessly. Her conflict with Marri was all but forgotten as she prayed with all her soul that Dar did not move or speak.

Korba was also keenly aware of Dar’s presence and the tattered state of the man’s lacerated heart. Korba looked to him and watched as the Warlord’s jaw clenched, but he did not speak. Korba waited, holding his breath for a few moments more. His cool stare then sought out Marri, but the woman remained wisely mute. He returned his attention to the assembly before him. “Then let the celebrations begin!” he shouted.

Security immediately moved to surround them just as Dar slumped forward in unconcealed agony. The massive hall erupted into chaos, the noise threatening to deafen the participants.

Chelan turned to Korba frantically. “We need to talk,” she uttered in distress.

“I know,” replied Korba. An aide helped him hurriedly with his shroud. Korba grabbed Chelan and shoved her forcefully into the arms of security. Chelan felt disoriented, and she struggled against Lazen’s embrace as she tried to get to Dar.

“He will follow,” Korba assured curtly, and he ordered Lazen to take her.

Chelan wrenched against her captor, terrified to leave Dar behind, but Lazen and Yanis both grabbed her, leaving her no alternative but to go.

Korba’s eyes scanned the undulating crowd as music suddenly saturated the air. Then he looked down at the unmoving Warlord. He touched Dar’s shoulder and felt him stiffen. “Come to the Command Center, my friend. Please.”

Fremma moved to Dar, urging him to his feet, knowing all too well what the blonde Warlord was feeling. But it was imperative that they leave. In the resulting pandemonium, too many untimely disasters could result, and with two of the Empire’s greatest Warlords together, an unprecedented catastrophe was not beyond the realm of possibility.

Korba moved swiftly to Chelan’s side, his eyes seeking out Marri’s position in the crowd. As an added precaution, he withdrew his lazgun and grabbed Chelan’s arm, whisking her quickly toward the exit doors. Throngs of security bristled around them as the crowds parted for them in an ebony wave. Chelan stepped quickly, Korba’s grip on her arm nearly lifting her from the floor. She watched as a stream of battle language went through the guards as they communicated with one another. Soon she was ushered out into the corridor, and within moments, to the Command Center. Once outside the main doors, Korba stopped to issue fresh orders to the guards. But Fremma grabbed her and flew with her into the protection of the Center.

Chelan was near collapse, and she clung to Fremma’s shroud for support, allowing her body the freedom at last to shake with pent-up tension. Fremma held her firmly. “Shhh,” he soothed as he stroked her slender back. “It’s all over with, my Lady. It’s all over.”

Suddenly, the doors parted, and Korba strode through, the Warlord’s eyes belying his heightened state of agitation. He swung his gun in under his shroud and paused, taking in a deep and calming breath. Then he looked down at Chelan, and his heart became heavy.

Fremma stepped back from her as Korba approached. “I will take my leave now, my Lady. I will be in my quarters if there are any problems.”

Chelan nodded imperceptibly, too exhausted to protest the fact that he was not going to be celebrating. Fremma turned to leave, but Korba caught his arm, halting his retreat. “Stay,” he ordered lightly. “I want to speak with you also.”

Just then, the doors parted again, and Dar stepped in. Chelan was relieved that he had arrived unscathed, but at the same time she knew that the intensity of the coming confrontation had just escalated. She turned her back on all three men, the day’s toll apparent in her every move. Her only desire now was to be claimed by the deep waters of sleep … alone.

Korba began pacing, his aggravation resurfacing. Finally, he stopped, exhaling sharply, and looked at Dar and Fremma. “Okay,” he said firmly. “Let’s have it, since I am obviously at a loss as to where to begin. We iron out our grievances and our relationships right here, right now.”

Chelan slumped into the nearest chair, unable to brace herself for the inevitable fallout. All three men looked at one another, all grappling with unprecedented emotion, all feeling a hollow pit in their stomachs as the final confrontation loomed.

Fremma was the first to dare to speak. “I must admit, my Lord, you stunned us all with your announcement of a Let.”

Korba whirled around, flinging his hands up into the air in exasperation. “There is no formal Let!” he shouted, the intensity of his voice staggering Dar and Fremma. “I would never subject Chelan to a Letting ceremony. But the Let is implied. I have asked, and she has offered, to have my child. The Let was announced to instill into everyone where we stand with one another. We are mates with the intent of children.” Korba sighed, visibly drained, his voice lowering. “But there will be no Let. Chelan is free and able to bear the children of whomever she pleases.”

Korba saw the relief that touched Dar and Fremma, but it registered on their faces only fleetingly. Despite the fact that there was no Let, it was obvious that both men were still reeling from the news. The level of commitment now professed, was simply devastating.

Chelan still remained motionless, barely able to comprehend what the men were saying as a flood of overwhelming emotions assailed her.

Fremma spoke again, cautiously. “My Lord, I am subordinate. You have but to command your decision pertaining to me, and you know I will obey.”

Chelan immediately felt a lump form in her throat, and she looked down at her hands, her flesh turning cold.

Korba shook his head wearily. “You know I would not do that, Fremma. You are too close a friend. And there are Chelan’s feelings to consider also.” Korba glanced at her, but she remained aloof, her eyes now on the floor.

Fremma shifted his weight uneasily. “Then I will state my feelings under no false pretenses, Sire. I honorably concede to your dominance, no matter what. Chelan and I have discussed our relationship, and I am content with our arrangement. It will in no way ever interfere with you and your bond with her, and I will never issue a challenge.”

Korba took a deep breath in an effort to think rationally, but the intensity of the situation was weakening his resoluteness. “Have you been intimate?” he asked firmly, not entirely sure why he needed to know.

Fremma started to answer, but he was distracted by Chelan, who suddenly slumped further into her chair and hugged herself protectively.

Fremma dared not move. He lowered his head, feeling Korba’s eyes upon him. “Yes,” he whispered.

Korba felt the inevitable stab, but he stifled his gut reactions. He remained very still, attempting to collect himself. He turned to Chelan. “Is your relationship with Fremma satisfactory to you, my Lady?”

Chelan did not move. Korba could sense that she felt desperately ill and alone, a pawn in some demented power struggle. She stared aimlessly at her clenched hands as she struggled to unfurl her aching fingers. “Yes,” she finally whispered almost inaudibly.

Korba’s heart was in agony over her pain, but he continued. “Then so be it. I entrust her care to you, Fremma, when she desires it. But you will bestow upon her your most intimate care only when I am absent, and only when there is no chance of my inadvertent return, such as yesterday!”

Fremma flinched but nodded his acknowledgement. Chelan bit her lip, swallowing hard in an attempt not to lose the meager meal she had eaten.

“Your friendship bond is encouraged, but in my presence and in my domain, it is benign.”

“Yes, my Lord,” replied Fremma.

“In the meantime,” Korba sighed, “if you decide you desire children other than for the Guild, then I suggest that you begin looking elsewhere.”

Fremma straightened, his jaw set. “With all due respect, Sire, there will be no others, ever.” His eyes went to Chelan. “I am comfortable with that decision.”

Korba glanced at her. He was concerned about her excessive paleness, but he had to finish this here and now, and he pushed on. He tensed, not knowing what to expect from Dar and the man’s volatile emotions when it came to Chelan. “Dar,” he began. “You’re next.”

Dar’s eyes had been on Chelan the whole time, but he raised them slowly to Korba’s. “I relinquish all claim, my friend. I will not challenge you; you have my word on that as a friend and as a warrior.”

Dar hesitated. His decision was made in an act of self-preservation, but he found himself dying bit by bit regardless. His eyes returned to Chelan’s hunched form, and his chest tightened. His voice was low and strained. “I will offer no claim … ever—” He wavered as his words caught in his throat. “And I will not offer myself or my bed.”

Korba was stunned, as was Fremma, but Chelan remained unmoving. Her head ached, and guilt and sorrow were lodged so deep within her heart she felt as though she could barely draw her next breath. The last vestiges of her strength were sapped. Dar’s words tore her heart out and extinguished her flame. She was mortified and overwrought with despair, helpless and at the mercy of her sinking feelings.

All three men watched her carefully as she raised herself up and stood. Her face was ashen and expressionless, her eyes dull. She glanced at Dar and then turned away and moved heavily up the stairs to the entrance of the workout area. There she stopped, staring into the vastness of the room, her back to them.