Training the Warrior (4 page)

When she’d been allowed to visit with
Takoora, it was obvious to Lydia the Tauran female was also still devastated by
the loss of her mate. Much like herself, her friend was pale and much thinner
than before. The traditional clothing worn by a warrior’s mate seemed to swallow
the Tauran woman. The long tunic top drooped off her shoulders and hung loose
around her hips. The hem of the long pant-like skirt trailed along the floor as
if the waistband rode too low on her hips. But Takoora had a strength about her
that was amazing, considering what had happened. She was adamant about what she
planned to do with her life now that she was one of the unmated.

Takoora wanted to apprentice to the teacher
clan of Fortress. She believed doing anything less would not only dishonor her
mate’s memory but the memory of his warrior brothers and all the un-bladed warriors
who depended on the teachers to help them after their change to manhood.

At first, Lydia had been dumbfounded by her
friend’s plan. The idea was absolutely preposterous to her human way of
thinking. Takoora wanted to become a teacher in order to honor her dead mate?
The teachers were…well, not exactly prostitutes. Thinking back on all she’d
learned about the secretive clan of women, Lydia came to realize her friend’s
choice might not be such a ridiculous idea, after all.

* * * *

Lydia had been on Fortress World for only a
couple months when she’d first learned about the women. In the beginning, she’d
thought the teachers were nothing more than glorified prostitutes. They provided
sex to the newly-bladed warriors while their forearms healed. At least that was
what she’d understood. She’d even heard rumors about how the sexual pleasuring
was given nonstop at times, depending on the carnal needs of the young warriors.

When she stated her beliefs to Kern, he was
horrified by her descriptions. He warned her to never speak about the teachers
in such a disrespectful manner. It was the only time in their relationship when
Lydia had dredged up her former beliefs about men. It’d made perfect sense to
her why all the warriors seemed to worship the teachers. From the male point of
view, they were more than awesome. Free sex on demand, whenever and for as long
as needed. Add in a case of beer and a stack of pizzas and life was great if you
were a horny young warrior.

But when Kern told her the young warriors
were sixteen years past birth at the time, her reaction was full-blown,
self-righteous anger. It was child abuse, for god’s sake. At least to her human-minded
thoughts of right and wrong it was shocking to think grown women were idolized
for having sex with male teenagers. Needless to say, he set her straight about
how Taurans marked the passage of time. Lydia still shuddered at how fast she’d
jumped to the wrong conclusion and unjustly condemned a whole species.

“New blades aren’t children, Lydia. They’re
mature warriors, completely developed in every way. How can you not understand?”
Kern’s scowl was firmly in place, indicating his strong resentment of her
attitude.

“Where I come from a sixteen year old is
still a child, and we protect our children from sexual perverts,” she
explained, refusing to back down.

Kern blinked. His scowl softened and then
morphed into an amused expression before he laughed.

“It’s not funny!”

“No, it isn’t.” He chuckled. “But I think I
know the reason for your confusion. You think our young warriors aren’t old
enough in years. Am I correct?”

“Yes!”

He growled an impatient sigh, then motioned
for her to take a seat on their couch. Kern paced back and forth in front of
her. It was obvious he tried to gather his thoughts into words.

“Lydia, I don’t think you understand the
difference between Galactic Standard Time and Tauran Solar Prime.”

Understand? She didn’t have any idea what
he was talking about.

“What?”

“It’s my fault. I should have explained
much more about my species and world during our first days together.”

“Well, we were busy…you know,” Lydia
stammered, “with the claiming and…” She clamped her jaw shut and clenched her
knees together. Just thinking about the way they’d made love time and time again
had her suddenly aroused.

Kern’s nostrils flared, scenting her. A
shrewd, knowing grin tugged at his lips.

“Explanation first, my love, before
pleasure.” He growled, low and sexy sounding.

Somehow, Lydia managed to keep quiet while
choking back a needy moan, which would surely break her mate’s concentration.

“Taurans, warriors included, count their
years according to Solar Prime, our home world’s measure of time. All other
worlds within the Tauran Empire, including Fortress, use Galactic Standard. The
worlds of the Alliance and Free Space use this method also. Planets inhabited
by humanoid life will fall somewhere within the limits of Galactic Standard. It
isn’t a rigid, precise method, but a common time frame, which is invaluable to
all species capable of space travel.

“When Taurans are born our births are
registered on Taura Prime. Every warrior’s birth is also recorded on Fortress.
Afterward, each year of our life is numbered in Solar Prime years, not Galactic
Standard.

“You were abducted from your home world by
slave traders who prey on unprotected worlds within Alliance borders. Your
planet, Earth, is almost certainly compatible with Galactic Standard.” Kern
cocked his head as his eyes narrowed. “Lydia, how many hour units are in an
Earth day?”

“Twenty-four,” she answered, shrugging nonchalantly.

“There are twenty-two to twenty-six hourly
units in a Galactic Standard day. How many Earth days are in a year?”

Lydia frowned, thinking about her answer.
She decided to skip mentioning anything about a leap year. “Three hundred and sixty-five
days.”

Kern’s expression was thoughtful as his
pacing slowed. “A Galactic Standard year is between three hundred and sixty and
three hundred and seventy days. For example, there are three hundred and sixty-two
days in a year on Fortress.” He came to a stop and smiled. “Similarly, there
are twenty-five hourly units in a Solar Prime day and thirty days in a Prime
monthly unit. However, it takes Taura Prime five hundred and forty days or
eighteen monthly units to make one complete orbit around its sun.”

“Huh?” Lydia couldn’t begin to do the math.
“So how old…in Earth years or Galactic Standard are you?”

“I am thirty-eight years past birth, Solar
Prime. My age converted to Galactic Standard is fifty-seven.”

Lydia sucked in a surprised breath. Slowly
exhaling, she muttered, “You look really hot for your age.”

Kern leered at her, his expression filled
with promise as he joined her on the couch. He gathered her up in a strong
embrace, pressing her breasts against his hard chest while lowering his head to
bring his lips close to hers.

Before he could kiss her, Lydia brought her
hand up and placed her index finger on his lips to stop him.

“Not so fast,” she blurted. “You haven’t
told me about the younger ones, the non-blades. How old are they?”

Despite her finger, his lips drew up in a
broad grin. “They’re fifteen when they travel to Fortress,” he quipped, teasing
her. When she gave him her best scowl he relented. “They’re over twenty-two
years in age. Young warriors sixteen years past birth are twenty-four years
old, Lydia. Now that you know their age in Earth years, do you still think of
them as children?”

Lydia pulled back and Kern groaned in
disappointment as he let her loose.

“I understand what you’re saying, but when
I see them, the ones you say are twenty-two, they look so…innocent.”

Kern’s mighty body shook with laughter.
Thinking he was amused at her expense, Lydia’s anger boiled to the surface.

“Don’t make fun of me, Kern. This is all
new and I have no other way to make sense of it, except to compare them to
humans. When the men I knew back on Earth were twenty-two, I can guarantee you
they looked and acted a lot different than your young warriors. And you expect
me to believe they change into grown men…bladed warriors…or whatever you want
to call them…in one year…Galactic Prime or Solar something?”

“Solar Prime,” Kern mumbled.

“Whatever!”

Kern’s scowl was firmly back in place as he
glared at her.

“Warriors aren’t human, Lydia. We age
slower and live longer. Even our Tauran males don’t grow to manhood in the way
we do. But I can promise you, when we turn sixteen…” He paused when Lydia shot
him a challenging look. “When we are twenty-four years old and our blades
emerge, Tauran law and moral code deem us legally and physically mature in
every way. I’ll find a way to prove this fact to you, my mate.” His glare faded
as he searched her face, so obvious in his desire to gain her approval.

Lydia didn’t know how to respond. All she
could manage were a few quick nods before Kern wrapped his massive arms around
her once more. A second later, his kiss wiped away all thoughts of time
calculations from her mind.

Later that evening Kern made every effort
to explain why the work the teachers did was so important. They were vital to
the survival of all the newly-bladed warriors. If not for the teachers every warrior
completing the change from youth to manhood would be lost to a type of madness
called the rage. He insisted on her accompanying him the next morning to the citadel
within the fortress compound. Since Lydia was restricted to their housing area
when Kern was away, it was an adventure of sorts for her.

She compared their home in Capital City to
an Earth-style apartment. It was one of several in a sprawling complex covering
many acres of land. There were parks, schools, markets, professional offices
and various businesses. It was the Tauran equivalent of suburbia, in many ways.
The major difference was the lack of individual transportation. There were no
personal automobiles. The residents walked most places. Public transportation
over longer distances was by rail. It reminded Lydia of Disney World’s monorail,
but bigger and much faster.

Once they were on the rail, Kern pointed
out a few landmarks as they headed toward the fortress compound. She was
surprised to see farms and large fields of crops interspersed between housing
areas, all perfectly maintained. The rail slowed as they neared their
destination and Kern pointed to a group of males working in one of the fields.

“They’re gathering baskets full of tarrow root.”

Lydia smiled as she watched them work.
Fried tarrow root strips were her favorite. They tasted like french fries. Well,
green ones, anyway. She had a habit of eating most of the Tauran food with her
eyes closed. It seemed to help. She noticed all the large males carrying the
heavily loaded baskets were youthful warriors. However, they towered over the
older Tauran males who walked with them.

“Child labor?” she taunted, glancing at her
handsome mate.

“It was one of my favorite chores when I
was their age,” Kern defended. He seemed disappointed by her attitude. “They
compete for the chance to exercise in the fields. It’s part of the schooling.”

“Oh,” Lydia muttered. Well, in all
fairness, it didn’t seem as if the Taurans indulged in any organized sports
like football or basketball. Schooling was serious business to them, no
distractions allowed. “So since they’re here on Fortress right now that means
they’re at least twenty-two years old, right?”

Kern just nodded and growled softly.

In size and development, they seemed much,
much older, but the way they threw several of the tarrow roots at each other
made them appear a lot younger.

 “Yes,” he answered finally. Her mate’s
deep voice was clipped, indicating his disapproval.

Lydia tried to keep a straight face. She
often teased Kern about his own playful ways, something her warrior always
denied having, but she knew better. Kern and Braedon would often go at each
other like children. They taunted and tormented one another mercilessly. If the
two became unruly indoors, she or Takoora would step in and send them outside.
Once out of the apartment, the two would make up and immediately go in search
of some other hapless Tauran victim to torment. When he was bored, her mate
could be a menace.

 Lydia dismissed the behavior as some kind
of instinctual male bonding thing the warriors never outgrew. And judging from
what she learned by talking with many of the other mated females, all warriors
acted the same way. They were frisky, in and out of bed.

The rail slowed to a gradual stop. Lydia
had seen pictures of the actual fortress, but to see it in person was truly
spectacular. To her it appeared to be a cross between a castle and a fort. A
thick tall wall made of huge slabs of black granite encircled the entire
perimeter. From her vantage point, she could see the top half of the fortress.
In a way, it was just a fortified enclosure, which surrounded the massive citadel
standing tall and proud within the center. Cinderella’s castle it wasn’t. She
thought it resembled Hollywood’s version of Dracula’s instead. She prayed Kern
wasn’t thinking about taking her inside the creepy-looking structure.