The Pearl Savage (28 page)

“Do get in, Clara,” Lillian
said.

Clara looked about her nervously.
“What of Matthew?”

She did not want to be naked and
vulnerable with any male around. The assault upon her by Prince
Frederic was still a fresh wound.

Anna
smiled and it took Clara’s breath away,
she
was lovely
.
But
had been so solemn since their first introduction Clara had not known
what to think of her. The look of happiness suited her.

Looking about her once more, she was
satisfied. Removing her clothes, she stood naked, the slight breeze
refreshingly cool and unique upon her bare skin. This is what the
wind felt like. For it could not be seen, only felt.

Matthew saw the Princess look right
at him through the trees and held very still. The other women had
already gone into the spring but it was she that made his heart
speed, he had not bothered to even glance at the others. She turned
her face away and his eyes stole from the top of her head to her
feet. She made him ache. He did not know why.

How he hated her perfection: the
perfectly formed body with a waist so small his hands could span it,
and her eyes…! The heat that had infused his body when he had
brushed her skin to arrest her fall rose up to the surface of him
again.

So
this is what a
select
could do. He would not have it and neither would the Band. He would
get rid of her, take her back to the sphere or somewhere else. But as
he looked upon her form, the moon making a
silhouette
of her body the ache grew in intensity and it made him more angry,
not less. He would wait until they finished then take her with him.

No
female could make him care again,
select
or no.

Clara immersed herself in water that
was almost too hot for her flesh. Much of which was tender from the
new movement of the horse, sleeping on the ground and she was still
sore from the beatings.

Yet
that
was
fading and she had a glimmer of hope. It shimmered just below the
surface of her soul, waiting to solidify.

Memories of Charles stole over her
slowly and her mood turned melancholy.

“Clara…” Lillian spoke her
name softly.

“Yes?”

“Because of the way you interacted
with Matthew, we know what you are to us.”

Clara stilled in the water, the
fragrant soap Lillian had given her a foamy pile atop her head.

“
The
Evil Ones…”
The
Guardians,
Clara corrected mentally, “have a prophesy of sorts. Which speaks
of this problem of our people dwindling and then the mingling of a
new people. Females that will be our salvation. They will unlock the
genetic code for us to begin to live again, have children again.”
she touched her belly with reverence.

“
You
are one of the
select
,
Clara.”

Oh
my Guardian, Clara thought. Those words were right out of the book
that Stella, Clara’s great-great grandmother, had kept safe for the
royal family. It was no coincidence that the Guardians had called the
people they chose for the spheres’ the
select.
But
how could they know? These
clan-dwellers
?

“And what does this mean for me?
For the Band?”

“Are there others like yourself
inside the sphere?” Anna asked, finally entering into the
conversation.

“There are many females and males
as well,” Clara said, confused.

Lillian shook her head. “No,
mayhap a relation or someone that is special…?”

Clara had many relations, much of
them very distant. She told that to Lillian who shrugged. “You may
make it known during your negotiation on behalf of our president that
this is a wonderful possibility.”

Clara
did not think the females of the sphere would be receptive to the
savages
needing
special mates. But she did not say, not wishing to alienate these
females who were working toward a fragile friendship.

Clara relaxed again, using the pause
in conversation to rinse off her hair, her breasts tipped to the sky.
Wringing the remainder of the water from her hair she sank down into
the warm depths, grateful for the heat that stole the chill she had
felt from the air.

Matthew’s
eyes followed her motions with an abiding hunger
.

“Tell us of the sphere,” Anna
said, her timid voice mingling with the sounds of the forest. They
were small but so many it was a background symphony of nature, ebbing
and flowing in volume.

Clara closed her eyes and spoke into
the dark, “It is like anyone’s life. I work in the fields by day
and by night I think on royal things. My duties.”

Matthew drew closer, trying to catch
her words. He wanted to know more as well. He crouched down,
listening.

“The fields?” Anna asked.

“The oyster fields. They yield
succulent meats and gems that we use for trade with other spheres.”

“How many spheres are there?”
Lillian asked.

“Just nineteen,” Clara replied,
thinking again how she would like to visit the sea. Suddenly she
remembered Anna was from a sea clan.

“What of you, Anna? I hear that
you hail from a sea clan.”

Clara waited in the darkness for so
long she was planning to repeat her question when Anna finally
answered, “Yes, I am from a sea clan. But I do not speak of it.”

Clara
thought before she spoke, intuiting much of what may trouble Anna. “I
too, have bad things which await me in the sphere. That is why I was
where
I
was when the Band came upon me and Charles and Prince Frederic,”
she whispered.

Yes, Matthew wondered. Who are
Charles and Prince Frederic?

“Who are they?” Lillian asked,
and a fine tremble broke over Clara, sweat beading on her upper lip.
Thinking about the attack made her breath quicken and become shallow.

“What is it? Clara, what is
wrong?” Anna asked.

Matthew stood, what was going on? He
scanned the environment, his night vision that of an owl. Seeing no
threat, he crouched again.

Clara reminded herself that the
attack was not happening now but she was quaking like a schoolgirl.
Prince Frederic was obviously not here.

She clearly saw the faces of Anna
and Lillian staring anxiously at her and felt some explanation was in
order. “I was to marry Prince Frederic of the Kingdom of Kentucky.
The Queen…”

“Your mother,” Lillian
clarified.

Clara nodded. “She wished to ally
the kingdoms so that they may mutually benefit each other.”

“What do they have that you need?”
Anna asked.

Nothing
, Clara thought.

“
Grapes,”
she answered instead. “And we have pearls and oyster meat aplenty.
Many of the spheres would do much for our alliance but Queen Ada
chose this kingdom.”

Lillian’s eyes narrowed, there was
something here that did not quite agree. “If that were so, then why
do you escape?”

Clara said nothing.

“If this alliance is so critical,
why do you leave?” she pressed.

Anna interrupted, “Grapes for
eating?”

“Yes, and for wine.”

“Spirits?” Lillian asked.

“Not exactly, but of a sort,”
Clara responded carefully. “He was beating me.” she hung her
head.

Anna floated over to where Clara was
and put an arm around her. “He is not here now to hurt you.”

That
Prince who attacked her was to
marry
her? Matthew could not understand a marriage between the two of them.
Could he, in good conscience, return her to the sphere knowing what
fate she might have there? He was troubled by what he was hearing. He
listened.

Something tight and horrible
loosened in Clara’s chest. She almost felt safe.

“And the Band, they came upon me
in the tunnel. Prince Frederic had somehow known I was attempting to
break free and intercepted our escape. He tried… to rape me,”
Clara whispered.

Dear Lord
, Lillian thought,
we have a monster living in the sphere. One that preys on females.
That would not be tolerated in the clans. Well that was untrue,
judging by Anna’s expression. She understood exactly what Clara had
been through.

Anna looked at Clara with sympathy.
“I made a narrow escape from a similar event, one that led me here
as well. Not all males are as that one.”

Clara knew that. After all, she had
known Charles her whole life and he had been nothing but tender and
loving. Their friendship unsullied by violence or rancor.

Matthew was shocked. He had thought
her a spoiled female of high rank that possibly enjoyed violent
trysts. But it did not explain the way her face looked before. Was
there other violence against her? It made no sense. Why would their
Queen allow the abuse of her own kin?

Clara suddenly felt flushed and
wished to be out of the spring, her fingers pruning and her body
languid.

The mood was solemn as they exited
the pool. Clara took her time to dry off, the fragrance of the soap
heady in her nostrils. Though she was somber in her mood, she found
these females brought her happiness. It had been some time since her
spirit felt weightless.

She dressed quickly and, gathering
up their towels, and implements, she followed her new friends up the
steep path.

Having lived a life where she was
constantly aware of her surroundings she almost missed being taken by
Matthew of the Band. But in the end, she was no match for his
stealth, reacting a moment too late.

He claimed her from behind with
ease, clamping on to her waist and covering her mouth. She could hear
the murmured conversation of Lillian and Anna ahead of her, powerless
to alert them as she was taken from the area with swift and deadly
precision.

The
guard,
Matthew
,
she thought, for she knew who it was as the fire, that liquid warmth
climbed to the surface of her body like banked embers. He had
captured her easily and ran with her body slung over his shoulder.

Clara fought in earnest and he held
her tighter against his shoulder, his slow trot never wavering.

My Guardian, he was strong, he made
the Prince look weak. She grew dizzy as the time wore on, his
breathing becoming more labored as he tore through bushes, seamlessly
navigating a path that she could not see, her head bobbing against
his flank.

Finally, he slowed, then stopped.
Roughly grasping her legs, he swung her upright and set her down on
her feet with an alarming thud. Lightheaded after being upside down
for thirty minutes or more, Clara swayed and fell to her knees.

Then she retched the supper she had
so enjoyed onto the ground before her.

Matthew tried to not feel anything
for the female, remembering that she was to be returned. Or at the
very least, out of his clan but he had a physical reaction to her
weak retching and dizziness, his gut churning and releasing. It was
possible he had treated her too roughly, the constant jarring and
subsequent dismount to the ground. He did not know, he had no
experience with females except for Margaret.

That strengthened his resolve, he
would not weaken before her.

Clara
looked up at Matthew who gazed down at her coldly and wished she were
dead. He had captured her and was taking her, Guardian knows where
.
All her earlier peace gone on the wind. She wiped a shaky hand
against her mouth, throwing spittle away in the ferns at her side.
She shook her head, trying to clear it and started to crawl away. She
would not go willingly if it killed her.

He could not believe this female!
After all that she had been through she still would try to free
herself of him.

Grimly, Matthew went after her and
flipped her over on her back and she cried out, “Please!” she
shielded her face. “Do not… do not hurt me.”

Ignoring the instinctive twist of
his gut as her words speared his consciousness, Matthew grabbed her
by her wrists and jerked her roughly to her feet. Taking her slender
throat in one hand he slammed her against the tree. “We do not need
females from the sphere.”

Fragrant evergreen needles fell on
Clara like rain when her back hit the tree… her head swimming in a
nauseating fog. She saw his face, the intense blue eyes boring into
hers and she said the first thing that came to mind, “Kill me,”
she squeezed out of her raw throat. Her vision dimmed to a small
point and the edges began to fade to gray.

Matthew became aware of heat in his
hand and saw her eyes start to flutter closed and a feeling of
fierce, instinctive protection swelled up inside himself for her…
for this female. As much as his intellect battled to assert his will,
he could not physically harm her. He gathered her limp body with his
free arm, and took his hand gently from her neck, her head falling
forward on his chest. He scooped her into his body in a cradle hold,
as confused as he had ever been in his life.

An inner turmoil raged within as he
made his way to the fence which surrounded his clan, her still body
pressed against his chest.