Marauder Page 10

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was somewhere in the English countryside,” Thea whispered.

  The impression was accurate, but Rex knew it wouldn’t last. The side door to the house flew open and Goftar strode out into the yard. His face darkened from greenish tan to lime green and a broad smile spread across his lips. The deepening hue was especially apparent on his hairless head. He jogged over to where they stood beside the shuttle. “It has been much too long, my friend.” He drew Rex into a friendly hug, clearly pleased to see him.

  “I agree. My last visit was so brief and busy, I wasn’t able to pull myself away.”

  “You work too hard.” Goftar’s yellow gaze landed on Thea and lingered. “Introduce me to your friend.”

  Rex moved closer to Thea, feeling strangely protective. “Goftar, this is Thea. She doesn’t speak Standard, but she’s semi-fluent in Rodyte.” Rex switched to Rodyte as he continued, “Thea, this is Goftar, one of my oldest and dearest friends.”

  Goftar’s gaze narrowed and his head tilted to one side, and then the other. His lips parted and his tongue extended as he inhaled deeply through his mouth. He was scenting Thea, and Rex didn’t like it, though he wasn’t sure why. Goftar was happily mated and had been for many years.

  “What species are you?” Goftar asked her directly, easily switching to Rodyte. “Your scent is unusual.”

  Thea looked at Rex, brow furrowed, gaze wary.

  “He’s just curious about you,” Rex assured her. “He’s never encountered a human before.”

  “Human?” Intense interest suddenly lit Goftar’s gaze. “You’re from Earth? I have heard such stories about your planet.” His head shifted toward Rex as he asked, “Are they really in league with the Evonti?”

  “Their association with the Evonti was unintentional and it has been completely severed.”

  “We were tricked by those bastards,” Thea asserted. “We never would have assisted them if we’d known what they were doing.”

  “I see.” Goftar let the subject drop, but it was obvious he wasn’t convinced of her innocence. He motioned them both toward the house, but his gaze remained somewhat wary.

  Lanae awaited them in the kitchen where she had drinks and finger foods waiting, as if they were visiting dignitaries. Her dark brown hair was braided down the back of her head, and though she was half Rodyte, her eyes had no visible phitons. Rex knew from experience that the transparent rings would still glow when she was angry or upset. She greeted him with a firm hug and even hugged Thea after he introduced her.

  “There’s still a few minutes before you need to depart.” Lanae indicated the waiting refreshments. “Have a nibble and tell me all the news.”

  With some hesitation Thea joined him at the table and accepted a cup of ortrota punch. “Before we depart for where?” she asked softly before Rex could oblige their hostess.

  “Dr. Foronti agreed to meet with Rex, but he has to come alone, or with me as escort and no one else,” Goftar explained. “Sorry, lamb, if we bring you along, the good doctor will slam the door in our faces. He’s the touchy sort. We really are lucky that he agreed to see us at all.”

  “You’ll stay here with me,” Lanae reached over and patted her arm as she offered Thea a friendly smile. “We can’t gossip about our men unless they leave.” She punctuated the statement with a wink.

  Thea smiled instead of insisting that he wasn’t her man, but Rex didn’t read too much into the reaction. She was obviously a bit overwhelmed by the outgoing couple.

  “So how is our wayward son?” Goftar prompted. “Has he been behaving, or do I need to come to your ship and straighten him out?”

  “I made him head of security. He must be doing something right.”

  “Head of security?” Goftar sounded almost wistful. “I still can’t believe the changes you’ve wrought in our rebellious son. He is not the same person who left here six years ago.”

  “He just needed a constructive way of expressing his anger,” Rex reminded. “I understood how that felt.”

  “We better get moving,” Goftar said. “He won’t even answer the door if we’re late.”

  With a nod, Rex pushed back from the table and stood. “Lanae will take good care of you, and we shouldn’t be gone long.”

  Thea nodded and the hesitation in her expression gradually morphed into a wily sort of anticipation. Rex hesitated. Could he trust these two females alone together? They both had a tendency to cause trouble.

  Apparently guessing Rex’s thoughts, Goftar touched his arm. “My mate will be on her best behavior. She promised me she would.”

  Even if that were true, he hated to leave Thea unsupervised. But there was no other option. The overlord desperately wanted these seedlings and it was Rex’s job to provide them.

  Chapter Six

  Isolaund raised a mug of anttis brew to her lips and gently blew on the steaming beverage. The tea was hot, but mostly she was stalling, searching for just the right words to convince her stubborn brother to assist her. They sat at an oblong table in the small eating area adjacent to her bedchamber. The Sarronti generally ate together in large common rooms, so meals were also a time for socializing and entertainment.

  Space was a luxury in the underground warrens the Sarronti called home. For most, the only private living space they desired was their bedchamber. Isolaund was one of the exceptions. Her four-room suite was large and lavish as befitted her station.

  Since the beginning of recorded history, there had been a ruling class among the Sarronti. The Ayrontu, the aristocracy. The designation still existed and in many ways still ruled, but their power was now filtered through the Guiding Council. The seven-member panel consisted of one representative from each of the six designations and the high councilor. This gave those from lesser designations a voice for the very first time. Isolaund thought it inefficient and cumbersome. She longed for the way things had been in her youth.

  The common teachings had also “evolved” over the past twenty cycles. Instead of reinforcing ranks and social positions, the new generation was being encouraged to believe that everyone was the same. That designations no longer mattered. How ridiculous. Designations were not only social stratum, they also maximized potential, temperament and intellect.

  And of these radical new changes, the attitude toward aggression was worst of all. Violence was only tolerated in defense of the weak, or to protect their precious planet. The Sarronti had never been particularly warlike, but they had a well-trained army for a reason. When they were threatened, they often struck first, destroying their enemy, and ensuring that others were too frightened to challenge them. The approach was direct and efficient. So why were others so determined to unravel the very fabric of their society?

  The Guiding Council wanted peace, they believed in diplomacy over force, tolerance over ambition. Isolaund shivered, finding their attitudes cowardly. Despite the new focus on community, and self-expression, Isolaund preferred the company of herself and her battle cats to the incessant chatter of those with lower designations, so she spent much of her time alone.

  “I know why you invited me here and you’re wasting your time.” Indrex’s tone snapped with finality and he sat stiffly, hands firmly clasping the arms of his tall-backed chair. He hadn’t touched the food piled on the plate in front of him or even the spiced wine she knew he favored. Three of his elegant fingers were adorned with rings, the colored stones large and reflective. His features were sculpted, cheekbones high, nose straight, jawline firm. As always, his hair was immaculate, falling to his shoulders, a shiny sheet of pale blue. His clothing was colorful and richly decorated, indicating his high station and superior breeding.

  The Ayrontu might be refined and sophisticated, but they were also stubborn, sometimes irrationally so. “They call themselves Outcasts,” she reminded him. “They’re fugitives and criminals. They’re proud of the fact that they’ve been driven out, that they don’t belong anywhere.”

  “Acco
rding to them, they belong on the surface of our planet,” he sounded almost amused by the fact. What was wrong with him? “One of them attempted to dream-share with you. Did he not warn the others that we are here?”

  “He tried, but he was confused by the images he was able to siphon off,” she admitted with a sigh. “I’m trying to contact him directly, so I can make our expectations crystal clear.”

  “As long as they stay above, I see no reason to take any further action. The other committee members agree with me.”

  Immediately incensed, Isolaund leaned forward, her voice low yet harsh, “That’s a coward’s response. If we don’t deal with them now—like a blood-sucking leech—they’ll be that much harder to dislodge later.”

  “We have lived within this planet for centuries. They are not the first society to choose our world and it’s unlikely they’ll be the last. Some sun-dwellers were worthy of interaction while others had to be motivated to leave.”

  “Our recent ‘motivations’ have been so ineffective, we might as well not have bothered. The Lynerians left because their mission ended and they had no reason to stay, not because of your stern warnings or the one measly ship you blew up.”

  “My colleagues and I disagree.” He raised his chin, making him look even haughtier than usual. “The Lynerian negotiation is an example of shrewd diplomacy.”

  “Dear Goddess, you’re deluded.” She slapped both hands on the table as she rose up out of her chair. “What about the Roritons? They not only burned massive areas of forest, they invaded the underground itself. How do you justify the slaughter of males and the enslavement of females and children? We lost thousands to those bastards before General Alonov convinced your precious committee to attack. If we’d struck first, as we have always done, all of those lives would have been spared.”

  “The Roriton situation was unfortunate, but—”

  “Unfortunate?” She spun away from the table and stalked toward the massive fireplace, no longer able to look at her brother. “I saw some of what those monsters did to their prisoners. It was unspeakable, and every vile act was preventable.”

  “The Outcasts are not the Roritons,” he objected. “We must determine which category they fall into, those we tolerate, or those we destroy. As of right now, they have not been aggressive.”

  “They are mercenaries. Humanoids don’t come any more aggressive than that.” She turned her head and glared at him. “Besides, they have already killed two of my karrons. One was Certice’s sister.”

  “And whose fault is that?” His brows raised in challenge. “The only reason the Outcasts know of our existence is because your battle cats have misbehaved. And so have you. If two of your cats are dead, the only one at fault is you.”

  She was too angry to speak, so she stared into the holographic fire, allowing the destructive beauty to calm her. This conversation was clearly a waste of time.

  Long moments later she heard the soft clink and scrape of flatware. The worthless bastard was eating her food! If she tossed him out on his cowardly ass, he’d just say she was wasteful and rude.

  Slowly, she turned around, arms folded over her chest. “Seven weeks.” She shook her head in disgust. “You’ve only been on the Guiding Council for seven weeks and already you sound like a bureaucrat.” She let her disdain for the vocation shape the word.

  He shrugged, obviously unconcerned with her displeasure. “The Outcasts were the primary topic of debate for the entire meeting last night, and the conclusion was unanimous. We gain nothing by confronting them.”

  “How can you say that?” Anger propelled her back to the table. “Are the councilors really so myopic?” She paced beside the table, iridescent hair streaming out behind her. “The Outcasts are not like the Lynerians. They’re not using our planet as a temporary outpost. The Outcasts intend to stay, to increase their numbers and establish a dynasty. They brought along mates, for Creator’s sake! How can you just sit there?”

  “You’re getting yourself all worked up over nothing,” Indrex insisted. “There are a few thousand of them, at most. We have one hundred times that number.”

  “There are six thousand of them, which means it’s more like fifty to one.”

  “I’ll still take those odds.” Again he shrugged and she wanted to pummel his face until he was an unrecognizable and very bloody mess. “We have nothing to fear from the Outcasts, and they have nothing to fear from us.”

  She returned to her side of the table, but gripped the back of her chair instead of sitting down. Anger and frustration pulsed through her like the inescapable throb of a rotting tooth. “I’d really hoped that you’d see reason so I wouldn’t have to go down this path.”

  He rolled his eyes, foolishly thinking she was being melodramatic. “Which dark and scary path are you hoping to avoid?”

  “The one controlled by Toxyn Jow.”

  Tension rolled through his body and his crystalline gaze narrowed on her face. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Of course I would.” Toxyn was a distant cousin, so he also had a blood claim to the Ayrontu seat. All three had been born within the span of three season cycles, so they’d been trained by the same masters and educated together. Down through the cycles, Toxyn became Indrex’s fiercest rival, a rivalry that survived to this day. “His claim to the Ayrontu seat is just as valid as yours.”

  Indrex glared. “I won the vote, and every member of the committee approved my appointment. The Ayrontu seat is mine!”

  “Only because Toxyn didn’t run. You know damn well he has more support than you. He saw his life path taking him in a different direction at the time. Well, his attitude has changed.”

  “Thanks to you, no doubt.” Indrex kicked his chair backward as he stood. The heavy wood toppled over with a resounding thud.

  Isolaund shrugged, mocking his earlier nonchalance. “If I put my support behind Toxyn—with the understanding that he would in turn support me—you’d be out on your ass by nightfall.”

  “He is ruthless and selfishly ambitious.” Indrex shook his head, fists clenched at his sides. “He lacks the self-control needed for governance.”

  “Well, I happen to feel that the Guiding Council possesses an overabundance of control right now. I think Toxyn is exactly what Sarronti leadership needs.”

  “This is extortion,” he sneered.

  “I prefer to think of it as motivation.” A part of her secretly hoped he’d refuse. Her goals would be easier to reach if Indrex gave in, but the journey would be infinitely more interesting if she turned to Toxyn.

  Indrex glared at her for a long moment, nose twitching. “I must meditate on the alternatives. Do not do anything rash until I give you my answer.”

  “You have until morning, and then I set my other plan in motion.”

  Without another word, her brother stormed out.

  Isolaund shook her head, frustrated but not surprised. Indrex had always been too much like their peace-loving father. She, on the other hand, was a warrior at heart, untamed and self-reliant. All traits she’d inherited from their quick-tempered and often brutal mother. Toxyn was also a product of their mother’s bloodline, and shared Isolaund’s propensity for direct action rather than diplomacy.

  “Gauging from the look on your face, that didn’t go well.” As if summoned by her troubled thoughts, Toxyn strode into the room. Dressed in the protective garments of the Sarronti military, he looked particularly fierce. His smooth teal hair gleamed in the simulated firelight and his eyes flashed with pale green intensity. It was unusual for Sarronti eyes to have any color at all. The anomaly hinted at a non-Sarronti somewhere in his bloodline. “Indrex looked even angrier than you do. Did you tell him about our plan?”

  Their “plan” had yet to be solidified, so she wasn’t sure which strategy he was referencing. “I gave him until morning to see reason.”

  “He won’t. You know he won’t. Why waste even one more night?” He sprawled in her chair, one leg draped over the arm. His green-tinge
d gaze swept the length of her body before focusing on her face. She tensed, already hating where this was headed. “I’ll probably have to kill him. Have you accepted that?”

  “If it becomes necessary, I won’t stand in your way. However...” She sucked in a deep breath as trepidation washed over her. She’d known her next move was likely inevitable, but she hadn’t expected to make it this quickly.

  “However?” he obliged.

  “I know of another way, a way that will solidify your claim to the Ayrontu seat on the committee without garnering the resentment and mistrust sure to accompany an assassination.”

  His booted foot began to swing, but his gaze sharpened, becoming even more penetrating. “I’m listening.”

  “Only six families remain in the Ayrontu caste. In centuries past a match between you and I might have been discouraged, but such is no longer the case. My mother brought up your name more than once as a possible mate.”

  “You want me to mate with you?” His gaze repeated the insolent sweep of her body with much more attention this time. “I wouldn’t mind bedding you a time or two, but soul bonding is permanent.”

  “I’m aware,” she said between clenched teeth. How dare he suggest she spread her thighs for him as payment for his cooperation? She’d been too annoyed by the suggestion the day before to really think about it. The more she’d considered it today, the more insulting she found the concept. Becoming his mate would involve the same act, but at least she’d have the security of their union, which gave her rights and powers she couldn’t possess as an unbound female.

  “Lose the dress. I want to see what you’re offering.”

  She just glared at him for a moment. Her maidservant could return at any moment to clear— Her maidservant. Of course. Every male that saw Arrista wanted her. Surely this shallow bastard would be the same. “You can see my shape quite clearly. I will not remove my gown.”