Nicoli stood before the group as well, with his back to Angel so she couldn’t see his face. Something serious was taking place. Not even her barging in had drawn so much as a head turn from anyone except Rianol, who stood just off to the side. He wore a grave expression, like a man with too much responsibility to bear. Seeing him, Angel felt her alarm grow. If Rianol was this concerned, the situation had to be bad.
When he saw her, Rianol walked over to offer his support. Smiling her thanks, she placed her hand on his arm, releasing her mother who immediately moved to the other side of the room where Yanur stood, face grim.
“What’s going on?” She asked Rianol, leaning close so she could whisper in his ear.
“Victor is protesting his displacement as your husband and Counsel-elect.”
“Politics,” she muttered disgustedly. “Well, it’s too late. Nicoli is my husband and Victor had just better get used to it.” Even as she said the words, she feared the reality of her world was about to be jarred.
“An’jel.” Rianol’s tone was sympathetic and she knew she didn’t want to hear what he had to say. Inside, she screamed at him to remain quiet, hoping that if he didn’t say anything more, they could all go back to bed and everything would return to normal. But that wouldn’t happen. She couldn’t stop the events about to unfold.
“Victor has issued
The Challenge
.”
An unnatural silence descended as her perception took on a surreal quality. Her voice, when it finally worked, came out almost a squeak. “The Challenge?”
“I’m sorry, An’jel.”
“No,” she shook her head. “There’s been a mistake.”
Angel turned to look at Nicoli’s back, ramrod straight, powerful in appearance. He was the embodiment of authority, military leadership and expertise, honor and integrity, bravery and courage. He was everything she was not and in that moment, she would have done anything to protect him from her planet’s archaic laws.
“No.” She shouted and all heads turned toward her. Pulling at Rianol so he would walk with her, she moved closer to the center podium. “Don’t allow this to happen, Grandfather. You, yourself, have already blessed our union.”
Her grandfather’s eyes were cold when they turned to her. “Silence, woman. Know your place. If you cannot control your tongue, I will have you thrown out of the room.”
Shocked, Angel moved closer to Nicoli. “Please,” she begged him. “Don’t agree to this.” She leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “Tell him we’re not married. Tell him anything so you won’t have to fight. We can leave the planet.”
Nicoli just stared at her, disapproval written across his face. “I will not run.”
“Colonel Romanof.” The High Counsel’s voice boomed over the room, halting all other conversations. “In accordance with our ancient laws, Victor D’rajmin challenges your claims to be husband to An’jel ToRrenc and the Counsel–elect. He calls into question your strength and ability to defend these two privileges. What say you? Do you agree to meet Victor on
The Challenge
field? Or do you relinquish your claims?”
Angel held her breath, waiting for the miracle that never came.
“I will meet Victor D’rajmin on
The Challenge
field.” Nicoli’s voice rang clear and strong throughout the chamber.
“No.” Angel cried. “You don’t understand.”
Nicoli turned to her. “Everything will be okay.”
She wouldn’t allow him to console her. She gripped his arms with her hands. “You don’t understand.” She enunciated each word, hoping to make him understand. “
The Challenge
is a fight to the death.”
Chapter 27
“It is done.” The High Counsel’s voice rang out over the chamber. “Tomorrow at noon, Victor D’rajmin will meet Colonel Nicoli Romanof, here in my chambers, for
The Challenge
. They shall fight with the warring blade until one man lies dead. The Right of Claim for my granddaughter, An’jel ToRrenc, belongs to the survivor, as shall the title of Counsel-elect. At any time before noon tomorrow, either party may withdraw from the fight and in doing so, forfeit his Right of Claim.” The High Counsel looked first to Victor and then to Nicoli. “Do you both understand?”
“Yes.” The men spoke in unison while Angel looked on. Never had she felt so powerless.
The High Counsel continued to talk, but Angel tuned him out. She needed to think of a plan, a way out of this mess. There was no doubt in her mind now that Victor was the Harvester leader. Just as there was no doubt in her mind that he would find some way to cheat in tomorrow’s fight. She and Nicoli had hoped the leader would expose himself, but he'd outmaneuvered them.
When the Quorum adjourned, Angel’s mind still puzzled over possibilities. Silently, she joined Nicoli, her mother and Yanur as they left the chamber.
No one spoke as they made their way to Yanur’s room. When Nicoli helped Angel to a chair, she surfaced from her thoughts, glanced up and for the first time, noticed Yanur’s face. The old man seemed suddenly years older. His haunted eyes and grim expression reminded her of her mother’s face so many years ago when Angel’s father faced
The Challenge
. Then, as now, it was a matter of honor to appear but Angel didn’t see much value in honor if you weren’t around to enjoy it.
Yanur moved to the corner of the room where he took his small black bag from the closet. Carrying it to Angel, he knelt before her, opened the bag and removed the Reparator. When he activated the beam and ran it across her ankle, she felt the tingling that accompanied the regeneration of healthy cells and watched in amazement as the swelling subsided and the colorful bruising slowly turned to a healthy glow.
"Thank you," she said as Yanur switched off the machine.
He held it suspended in the air and Angel found she couldn’t look away. The Reparator had saved Nicoli’s life once before. Why couldn’t they use it again? She tore her gaze from the Reparator to look at Yanur. As if he read her thoughts, he shook his head.
“To the death,” he whispered.
“Once a person is dead, it will not bring them back to life.” She quoted his words, spoken outside the space station, each syllable a death knell.
Yanur nodded and turned to place the Reparator back in his bag. Angel saw the single tear escape his eye to roll down his cheek and knew its twin coursed down her own.
When she felt Nicoli's hand on her shoulder, she looked up.
"We should try to get a few more hours of sleep," he said, drawing her to her feet.
“We’ll talk later,” he said to Yanur.
The older man nodded and Nicoli led Angel out into the corridor. As they walked along the corridor to their bedroom, Angel’s thoughts turned once again to the fight. The weight of her misery made her head seem too heavy to hold up and beside her, Nicoli’s silence was deafening.
Once they reached their room, Angel confronted him.
“How can you act like nothing is happening?”
With that calm, unhurried air so typical of him, he faced her. “How would you have me act?”
“I don’t know.” She threw her arms up in the air as she paced toward him. “Get mad, slam something around. Yell. Do something.”
“Why?”
Exasperated, she stopped mid-stride and stared. “Tomorrow, you’re going to fight Victor.”
“Yes, I know.”
“It’s a fight to the death.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Damn it, Nicoli. One of you isn’t going to survive.”
“You’re worried about Victor?”
“Aargh!” She yelled. The man was impossible. “Of course I’m not worried about Victor. I’m worried about you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Angel stared at him in disbelief. “Do you really want to die so very much that the possibility of it doesn’t bother you?”
“I will not forfeit the fight and leave you to face Victor and your grandfather alone.”
“We could leave – you, me, Yanur and my mother.”
Nicoli shook his head. “Running away is not the answer.”
“Sometimes it is. You know as well as I do that Victor is going to cheat to win.”
“Probably.”
“So what will you do?”
He didn’t even pause to consider his answer. “I won’t cheat.”
Angel let her head fall forward in defeat. “Death before dishonor,” she mumbled. She raised her head and pinned him under her stare. “Well, you know what Nicoli? Good only triumphs over evil in the storybooks – not in real life.”
“I’ll be fine.” He moved to her side and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She let him lead her to the bed to sit beside him.
“I pray to God that you
are
fine, but I'm afraid for you.” Angel stroked her hand along his cheek. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you. I’ve already lost too many people I love. If I lost you too…”
She kissed him then. Kissed him as if it were their last kiss, conveying in action the feelings she was too afraid to put into words. It was the desperate kiss of a starving woman and Nicoli returned it with equal fervor.
Somehow they ended up stretched out in bed, naked, pressed against each other. She basked in the feel of his hard chest rubbing her breasts, their legs intertwined and hands clasping each other’s heads as lips devoured lips and tongues danced with each other.
Angel wanted this moment to last forever.
“Nicoli,” she pleaded, pulling her head away as she grasped for one last small thread of sanity to hold on to. “Stop.”
“Why? You want this as much as I do.”
“You’re right, but we have to plan what to do tomorrow."
“SShhh,” Nicoli placed a finger to her lips. “My Kiera – my heart - just for tonight,” he whispered, “let there be no tomorrow.”
He kissed her again and the thread snapped, leaving her wanting only to feel him inside her.
He didn’t make her wait, taking her in strokes so fast and powerful, all she could do was hold on until they both found their release.
The second time they made love, they took their time, and the reward was no less satisfying.
Afterwards, bathed in the afterglow of such loving, Angel settled herself against Nicoli’s side, her head resting on his chest. Never before had she felt so cherished and safe. As the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep, she smiled to herself. She had spent her entire life running from her grandfather and the arranged, loveless marriage he would force on her. She had wanted more from life. She had wanted to find true love - and she had.
“I love you, Nicoli,” she whispered into the darkness. “You’re the only one I’ll ever love.”
Her declaration met with silence. Perhaps he was already asleep and hadn’t heard her.
Or maybe, a small part of her brain chimed in just before she fell asleep, he’d heard but didn’t feel the same.
Nicoli didn’t consider himself a coward, but nothing scared him more than the four simple words Angel had uttered. “I love you, Nicoli.”
At first, his heart had leapt for joy, then a lifetime of conditioning kicked in and he shut the door on his emotion. He couldn’t afford to love anyone because of his job, because of the kind of person he was. The old arguments slipped easily into place. Angel could do so much better, he had no right to keep her. To hell with the Althusian laws. Hadn’t he broken enough of them already in his life? What was the real reason he wouldn’t divorce Angel?
The answer to that question kept him awake the rest of the night. When the first ray of light peeked past the window curtain, Nicoli eased himself from Angel’s arms and left the warmth of their bed.
As quickly and quietly as he could, he dressed. There was much to be done today and he shouldn't have stayed up so late, making love to Angel. But oh, it had been worth it. If he died today, it would still have been worth every second he’d spent with her.
Nicoli left the room and headed for the kitchen, intent on dealing with adversity on a full stomach. To his surprise, Sorrah was already up and preparing the morning breakfast.
“Good morning,” she said as he walked in. “You’re up early.”
“Big day.”
She smiled, a friendly smile that lacked the seductive innuendoes of their earlier encounters. “So I heard.” She waved at the various foods cooking on the stove. “Are you hungry? Sit down. I’ll fix you something.”
Nicoli looked around, on the verge of refusing her. Hunger warred with his desire to be alone with his thoughts.