Guardian of the Storm (10 page)

He was afraid it was because his faith was weak, or he was simply unworthy as Guardian—because he wanted her for himself—and if she truly was the goddess as the Mordune believed, she would vanish once the task was done. She would release her spirit to the heavens once more and discard the living flesh she had assumed to grace them.

He swallowed with some difficulty when she came to a stop before him. With an effort, he took her hand, knelt, and bowed his head.

She tugged on his hand and, when he looked up at her, smiled in a way that was both nervous and hopeful. He stood, escorted her to the throne that had been brought for her and then took his place beside her, all without saying a word, for he could think of nothing at all to say.

* * * *

The food was like nothing Tempest had ever eaten before, but it was wonderful. She had to resist the temptation to stash some away for later, which wasn’t nearly as hard to do once she realized she had no pockets to hide it in.

She was deeply regretful, however, when she found that she’d eaten all she could hold. The grat, unnerved by all the noise but apparently fearful of allowing her completely out of sight, slunk quietly into the circle after it had grown dark and under the throne where Tempest sat. The first Tempest was aware its presence was when it growled at one of the servers, who apparently came closer than it liked. Tempest moved her legs to one side and dropped a few morsels for the animal.

When she looked up, she discovered that everyone had stopped dead in their tracks to stare.

She glanced uneasily at Kiran. He smiled faintly, nodded, then stood up and spoke … just as if she’d actually spoken to him.

“What did you tell them?” she asked out of the corner of her mouth.

“That the goddess mother, Niah, loved all of her creatures and was displeased when the strong preyed upon the weak and helpless.”

Tempest blushed at the reference to ‘the goddess’ and tried not to look as miserable as she felt. The truth was, though, aside from being a nervous wreck perched in full view of everyone, and studied either openly or covertly by all those present, she was so tired she was afraid she would fall asleep if she had to sit through the hours of entertainment it seemed they had in store for her.

Finally, when she thought she could bear it no longer, the women who had attended her earlier approached the dais that had been hastily constructed for the throne she sat upon. With relief, she stood and allowed them to help her down, following them with gratitude toward the tent where she had been prepared earlier.

Once there, they removed the garments and carefully folded them and set them aside, then brought forth a robe similar to those they wore, except far richer. Made of finely woven and virtually transparent fabric, it had no fastenings but was instead made to slip over one’s head. Tempest lifted her arms and allowed them to drop it over her head.

To her relief, they began to file out immediately, leaving her, at long last with the peace to find her rest—or enjoy her fears.

As the last of the women left, however, Kiran entered the tent.

Tempest looked at him in surprise.

“It’s allowed? For you to be with me, I mean?”

Kiran’s gaze traveled her length before returning to her face once more. Finally, he moved toward her, stopping a good arm’s length away. “It is expected.”

Tempest didn’t know why that surprised her when they had been captured traveling together, but it did. Somehow, she’d thought since they seemed to be under the impression that she was their goddess they wouldn’t expect her to share her tent with a mere mortal.

It was a relief to know she wouldn’t be left entirely alone throughout the night with nothing but her fears for company.

Sighing, she surged forward, slipping her arms around his waist and laying her cheek against his chest. “I’m so glad. I’ve been scared silly ever since they captured us.”

After a momentary hesitation, Kiran folded his arms around her. “I would have come regardless. I told you that I would protect you.” He pulled a little away and tipped her chin up so that she was looking up at him. “I am the guardian of the goddess of storms.”

Chapter Nine

Tempest smiled tremulously. “That isn’t even
slightly
funny!”

Kiran stroked her cheek. “You have no need to be so fearful. Tomorrow, they will take us to the sacred mountain.”

Tempest pulled away. “Do you think we should? So soon? I mean, you were hurt. Wouldn’t it be best to rest a few days?”

Kiran frowned. “You wish to stay longer?”

Tempest shuddered. “Not really. I’d be happy to leave tonight, if you want to know the truth, but I don’t suppose it would be a good idea to try it. I’m more concerned about you. There was so much blood!”

“Your grat caused me more injury.”

Tempest gave him a look. “She didn’t claw you nearly as deeply as some of those cuts looked. Maybe I should have a look?”

He shook his head. “I will heal. They were anxious to give the goddess Niah’s chosen mate the best of care.”

“I wish you wouldn’t keep calling…. What? They think.... Why would they think that?”

“Because of your concern for me.”

“Oh.” Tempest looked around uncomfortably and it occurred to her for the first time that there might have been more to the ritualized preparation for bed than she’d thought at the time. Tiny, flickering lights in clay and oil lamps, were ‘strewn’ about the tent, creating an atmosphere of intimacy. A length of fine cloth had been spread atop the mound of pillows against the far wall. “I suppose that means they don’t consider chastity ... important?”

“Our beliefs and those of the Mordune differ as much as they are similar.”

Tempest nodded, not entirely certain of whether she was relieved or sorry. The way Kiran was looking at her made her feel warm and soft all over, and she wasn’t overly inclined to lie to herself. His kisses haunted her. When she’d experimented with kissing before, she’d been almost as uncomfortable about it as she was excited. When Kiran kissed her, she’d felt things she had never imagined she could feel and, despite her lack of actual experience, she suspected that it was far more than ‘typical’ of such an encounter.

If he hadn’t been the product of a different culture, she would have told him she was interested in sharing her body with him and discovering if they could please each other as well as she thought they might, just as everyone else in the colony had. She had a strong suspicion though, that the Niahians had very different views about sex than
the people
. Given the cultural differences she’d already seen, she was afraid of what the consequences might be.

Historically speaking, among
the people
, the male had always expressed his sexual interests freely and viewed sex as recreation. Even after the social custom of marriage was conceived, it was only the female who was truly bound—for it was the female who was attacked by society if she was discovered sharing herself with a male not her spouse, and that had gone on for centuries. It wasn’t until women were finally able to control their reproductive organs that they found the freedom to express their sexuality as the male did. The whole institute of marriage, as the ancients had known it, vanished once it became unnecessary.

It had been invented to begin with by males, to ensure their breeding lines. With the advancements in genetics, that was no longer an issue. The females could choose the best male to produce children with, the male was in no doubt of the child’s paternity, and the female could then pursue sex as recreation the same as their male counterparts, reproducing only when, or if, they felt the inclination.

The destruction of the colony had put her in the same position the women of her own world had held centuries ago. Without birth control, she was at the mercy of nature, which was dangerous enough without adding the possibility of cultural repercussions.

The realization vanquished the last of her internal battle between giving in to her inclinations and ‘flight’. She shivered and moved away from Kiran. “We should sleep if we’re leaving tomorrow.”

He studied her for some time after she’d climbed atop the pillows and covered herself. Tempest didn’t look at him, but she felt his puzzled, angry gaze. Finally, to her relief, he moved around the tent, dousing the lights.

She rolled away from him when she felt the pillows shift as he climbed onto the pillow bed beside her. She could feel tension radiating from him as he lay stiffly on his back, staring up at the dark shadows of the tent above them.

“You have decided to choose a mate among your own people,” he said, his voice flat, giving away none of his thoughts.

Tempest stiffened. Kiran wasn’t one to beat around the bush, but she hadn’t expected him to be quite so direct. Finally, she shrugged. Then she remembered that he couldn’t really see her. “I’m sure it would be best,” she replied noncommittally.

“For you?”

Tempest sighed. “Probably for everybody. I don’t imagine the customs of
the people
are much like the customs of any of the Niahians. We’ve been on your world for years now without having a cultural clash. It just seems to me that the best way to avoid problems would be if we continued to keep to ourselves.”

He said nothing for several moments. “You could learn the way of our people.”

Tempest felt a surge of anger. “Well, maybe I think the ways of my own people are worth saving.”

“I would not take that from you,” he said tightly, trying to control his own anger.

“Because you can’t—anymore than you can give it. It’s part of who and what I am. Don’t you see that? I wouldn’t be me if I hadn’t grown up as I did. My culture is part of everything I think and say and do.... Just as yours is.”

Abruptly, he seized her shoulder, bearing her down in the pillows as he shifted half atop her. “I will not always be bound by the vows I have taken,” he growled.

Tempest swallowed against a little thrill of fear … and, if the truth were told, excitement. “What do you mean by that?” she asked a little breathlessly, unable to see him well enough in the shadows to read his expression.

“I will be free to take what I want.”

Tempest stared up at him speechlessly, wondering if it was a threat … or a promise. “What do you want?” she asked a little hoarsely.

He hesitated. So abruptly she was caught completely off guard, he angled his mouth over hers. She jumped reflexively at the connection of sensitive flesh to flesh, but it didn’t even occur to her to try to resist when he forced her lips to part with the pressure of his mouth and thrust his tongue into her mouth. Heat instantly enveloped her with the first aggressive rake of his tongue along hers, burgeoned like a flash fire as he claimed every inch of the sensitive cavern with bold, hungry strokes. Her taste buds exploded with the flavor that was uniquely his, throwing her entire system into chaos as every follicle sprang as instantly to attention as if she’d been struck by a jolt of electricity, bringing every square inch of her flesh to hypersensitivity. An inner darkness swirled through her. She felt as if she was falling from a tall cliff, floating endlessly toward some destination she couldn’t begin to guess at.

A vast sense of disappointment filled her, though, when he wrenched his mouth from hers almost as abruptly as he’d claimed it.

She sensed an inner struggle as he stared down at her face and held her breath, afraid to move, although she wasn’t certain whether her anxiety was that he’d abandon her or continue until he moved away. She knew then, without any doubt, that it had been his withdrawal she’d dreaded. A sense of abandonment followed the disappoint, and confusion. She wasn’t certain what the kiss had meant anymore than she understood why he’d stopped.

For several moments, she lay perfectly still, shaken, hopeful that he would do or say something that would help her to understand, struggling with the impulse to turn to him and try to urge him to give her more, to fulfill the need drumming through her and making her ache. The fear that he’d thrust her away finally surmounted it.

Struggling with the urge to cry for no reason that she could completely grasp, she finally rolled onto her side away from him, curling tightly into a miserable ball and trying to find the blissful unawareness of sleep.

* * * *

At dawn, the women came once more. Tempest eyed them sleepily, uncertain of whether to be relieved or sorry that Kiran had risen and left the tent while she still slept.

They dressed her once more in the garments she’d worn the night before and escorted her out of the tent. There, she saw that an
aquestan
outfitted with some sort of enclosure waited. The
aquestan
, a hulking, mostly hairless beast with a row of three horns growing out of its forehead, had been forced to its knees, but even so it was almost as tall as she was and she wondered how, and if, she was expected to climb up. Two men that she recognized from the group that had captured her and Kiran, stepped forward, bowed and then, each taking an arm, lifted her into the strange convenience.

It was a chair of sorts, she discovered, padded with pillows. The seat was set inside a box of sorts, the roof supported by posts, the sides, front and back open. Sheer fabric had been draped all around and once she was seated, these were released, shielding her from sight, cutting off most of her view.

She grasped the edges of the seat as she felt the beast heave beneath her. Her belly clenched as it rose abruptly.

Through the veiling, she saw that the beast she rode was surrounded by a dozen or so others, each bearing a plain saddle. Kiran had been given one to ride, as well, and as they started out, he guided his beast to walk beside hers.

He was still too far away to allow for comfortable conversation. She had a feeling he would be disinclined to talk anyway after what had passed between them the night before.

It puzzled her. He hadn’t been at all willing to allow her to follow him off to begin with. That had been her idea and he had made it clear that he wasn’t pleased and that it was only because of his good nature that he allowed it at all.