Forbidden Words

by

Ann Marie Olson

Story © 2000 Ann Marie Olson

CHAPTER 1

      "This is the third time in as many months you've come up short, Master Sergeant renSime Dorityan." the young lord tapped her stylus against the wax tablet. "One more and I'm going to have to put you on report."
      "I can pay for it." he narrowed his eyes at her, momentarily forgetting he wasn't supposed to be speaking like a lord. Fortunately she either didn't notice or care and Dorityan simply kicked himself for his lapse. "Meanin' m'lord if there be some kinda problem, I can but not fix it." he exaggerated the speech patterns of a renSime. Dorityan hated the way it sounded, but knew if even once, someone who mattered caught his slip, he would be dead within hours.
      Sharm Lord Avilan's tremendous gift of well over five year's base selyn use when he was a young and brash private had quietly multiplied under Dorityan's watchful eye for over thirty years. Now, if only Dorityan weren't a renSime it would be a small fortune. As it was, the only thing he ever got out of all that selyn was a large quantity of highly dangerous bad habits.
      "I'll take him." lord Triana's whining soprano bit at his ears.
      This is not what I want. he leaned against the desk. "But, m'lord. Iffn' its no differ'nt to ye, ye'r busy." Dorityan chose his words carefully.
      "No, Triana. I think Dorityan should at least suffer some consequence for his wrongdoing." lord Ilyra tapped the stylus again. It was almost as annoying a habit as some people had of chewing on their tentacles, almost. "I'll give him to lord Galina."
      "No, no. Don't be doin' nothing like that." Dorityan put as much fear and shock into his nager as he could. "I don't want to be messin' with her."
      Lord Ilyra chuckled darkly. "Perfect. Through the door on your right, Master Seargent Dorityan."
      Lord Triana's eyes narrowed and Dorityan didn't have to fake the fear he felt under her gaze. "At your will, my lord." he bowed from the waist.
      "Of course." lord Triana said, not even bothering to complete the formula. "Next time, renSime Dorityan, don't even both to show up if you're going to be early."
      "No, no, of course not." his voice shook. "At your will, my lords." he scurried off to the indicated door before he could get into any more trouble.

      Smoothing the wrinkles out of her long skirts, lord Galina stood. It had been a very long day. With lord Triana watching the desk, all she had gotten was the losers and failures of Sergei. Admittedly, she wasn't a very good lord, but renSime after renSime had come through the door scowling and angry. Stretching, she let her abused tentacles reach for the tiled ceiling.
      One of the light panels in the corner was dimmed. Hopefully Ilyra will be in here tomorrow. Galina thought, knowing nothing she could say would get it replaced. At least the renSimes left in a better mood than they arrived. She straightened out one edge of the cream blanket which had come out from under the cushion on the lounge in the corner.
      Consulting her time sense, Galina realized it was almost time to quit for the day. Only emergency staff ever stayed past official dusk and it was already quarter to six. Close enough. she sat back down at her desk and slid a book out from its hiding place beneath the pencil drawer.
      Laboriously picking her way through the High Simelan, Galina soon found herself nodding agreement with the author. Indeed, what would it be like for everyone to be able to follow their dreams? What would it be like for people to be free, everyone, not just a handful of highly lucky people who were born with the right genes? Galina slipped one of her dorsals between the pages and leaned back in her chair.
      In her imagination, Galina saw herself holding hands with her lover, walking alongside the Moskva river. The breeze was cool and tinged with the first frost of the year. They laughed together as their son chased the ducks into the water, throwing handfuls of stale bread at the birds. There were other couples out in the slanting, golden rays of the sun. They were of all kinds. Lord or ordinary, beautiful or not, only the looks of love on their faces for their partners were the same.
      With a sigh, Galina ran her fingers through her coarse black hair and opened her eyes.
      "Iffn you read too mucha that there trash, ye'll rot yer brains." Dorityan's grin almost made his eyes disappear into the dark creases of his face. Galina gasped in horrified shock and slammed the book on her dorsal.
      "Ow!" she opened it again and gingery retracted the digit. It was already throbbing with pain.
      "I'm sorry." Dorityan came around the desk and gently kissed it. "I didn't mean to scare you." his deep brown eyes held true remorse.
      "I'll be all right." she turned her face away shyly. Quite well she knew, hers was a face which held little fascination for men of any variety. His touch on her tentacle though was more than a bit distracting. She pulled it away. Nervously, she plucked at the heavy grey wool of her skirt. It was pilling and worn in places. She covered one of the tiny tears in the fabric with a fold, exposing two more. "What are you doing here again, so soon." Galina had not meant to count the days since the last time she had zlinned the fascinating renSime, but still knew it had only been twenty four days.
      "I came up short again." he sat on the edge of the desk, looking down at her. The white bands on his forearms from where his bracers protected them from the sun were stark in contrast with the deep tan of his upper arms.
      Reminded of her duty, Galina held out her hands to him.
      "I think I would rather some place more comfortable, if you don't mind." it almost seemed as if he let one eye droop into a wink. Galina truly had no idea what he wanted of her. When they had first met, Dorityan seemed like any other renSime; coarse, abrasive, pig ignorant and about as smart as a tree stump.
      That had been over three years ago and the only thing he had relented on was his abuse of Russian. "How many other people know you can speak like a lord?"
      "Obviously none." his hand was warm in hers as he brought her to her feet.
      "How so?" she let him lead her across the room, as if he were the lord and she the renSime.
      "My lord." he nodded for her to take her place on the chair at the side of the lounge. The hard wood of the edge of the seat bit into the back of her thighs.

      Dorityan was not about to answer Galina's question. If she knew the hold she had on him, there was no way she could refuse to turn him in. As it was, only her ignorance had saved both of them. Or perhaps it was time to tell her, "If anyone else knew, I would be dead." He looked straight into her mahogany eyes, trying to glean her reaction from her looks and not her nager. More years ago than he wanted to think of, Dorityan learned the folly of trusting his Sime senses around a lord.
      Galina's eyes went wide and startled with the information. "They wouldn't." she gasped.
      Internally, Dorityan breathed a sigh of relief. She seemed entirely too honest to let in on all of it, but at least in this she would be safe. Galina was so very young and innocent. Cautiously, he let himself stroke the side of her face. "Indeed they would, my lord." his hand quivered as she failed to pull away. Her skin was even softer than he had imagined it would be, even stretched taut across her high cheekbones with her nervousness.
      "Why?" her hand came up and rested over his. Dorityan had to sit. His heart was pounding with the simple contact, so different from the impersonal grasp for transfer.
      "Because renSimes are not supposed to be able to speak Russian correctly." Dorityan let his field twine with hers. The forbidden pleasure was like molten honey, sweeter and richer than anything else in the world. Her distraction by their speech hid his actions beneath her confusion. Before she could catch him at, he focused on a lose thread at the edge of the brightly colored quilt at the foot of the lounge to distract himself.
      "You are also older than almost all the other renSimes." she rubbed her face against his hand.
      He wanted to ask, 'Do you mind?' but figured flirting was the farthest thing from her thoughts. "True." Dorityan sighed as he thought of all the youngsters he had watched come into the ranks, marry, produce children and then die before their fortieth birthday. Most of them dead by 'accident', he couldn't help but grimace. "Please don't tell anyone."
      "I would never have thought to." her eyes didn't shift away from his a millimeter.
      Safe he knew.
      "Have you ever thought of retiring?" her hand traced down over his arm. Unaccountably her fingertips snagged on the openings to his dorsal sheaths and Dorityan realized she had never in her life caressed another Sime. Galina pulled back her hand as if burned and turned her face away from his touch.
      "RenSimes don't live long past retirement." he let her lean away from him. The words were more true than she probably wanted to know. More than one of his old friends had died shortly after retirement, due to 'transfer difficulties'. Dorityan had no desire to risk it. "Besides, I like my work." which was true enough as far as it went. He could be doing far worse things to be earning his monthly selyn. I'd much rather sell my strong right arm than sell my selyn. he pitied the way Galina had to whore her spirit to earn her keep. At least I had a choice in the matter.
      "Lets get on with it, shall we?" he asked simply, not wishing to intrude any more than he had to on what little privacy Galina did have in her life.

      After Dorityan's surprising caress, his callous approach to transfer made all her tentacles want to retreat. The one she had injured still throbbed, particularly crammed inside its sheath with her reluctance to simply treat Dorityan like any other renSime. "I think I would like a few moments to get myself settled, if you don't mind?" Galina knew Dorityan was not anywhere near attrition. Only renSimes who were on the breeding schedule were allowed to go so far into need.
      "Not at all, my lass." he grinned, not at all showing the need obvious from the state of his roniplin glands. "Take your time, if you wish." his hand came to rest on her knee. His fingers were browned by the sun. At some time his left forefinger had been broken and set awry. It gave his hand even more character than the lines of scars and heavy calluses from training. She rested her hand on his, feeling the deep lines on his knuckles catch at her soft skin. "Ye like te touch, don't ye?"
      This time she didn't pull away. "Don't you?" she dared to ask.
      "Not te many lords be wantin' to tech a renSime." his wry grin twisted at the lines around his mouth. "We're not to be puttin us over us selves."
      "Don't, Dorityan." her mind hurt. "Please." she caught his eyes. He looked away first. His short hair was greyed at the temples, streaking back to the black stubble over his ears. Even in this he had style, not simply content with shaving it every month to an even length.
      His laughter was so rough it felt as if it would tear her skin. "I am a renSime, Galina." the corner of his mouth turned down. "Did you expect anything else?"
      "No" she grimaced, not sure now of what she had wanted. "I prefer it when you speak to me normally, though."
      He snorted in disgust. "What is normal, lass?" his dorsals stroked over her tentacle sheathes.
      "Not this." she pulled away suddenly. Her stomach had contracted with the obscene gesture. Having another Sime's tentacles on her arms so intimately was vile. Or at least that is what Galina told herself. A chill washed over her arms, making her shiver.
      "Yer cold." Dorityan pulled a shawl off the back of the lounge and draped it over her shoulders gently. Her chill had nothing to do with the temperature, but still she didn't refuse it. Galina tucked the ends of the woven drape into the waistband of her skirt. The tasseled fringe tickled the inside of her elbows. "Better?"
      How could she say no? Galina tried to smile at Dorityan. "I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you, Dorityan." Galina tried too get this appointment back on track.
      "Then let me cosset you, lass. I'm an old renSime who don't know no better." his smile took the sting from his grammar. "Yer too pretty fer me to give up the chance."
      "You flatter me, Dorityan." she twisted one of the soft tassels between two of her ventrals.
      "If ye'll let me." he chuckled softly. "Yer well worth flattering."
      "And flattery is all it is." she tried to sound stern and disapproving. Even her instructors had told her that her greatest strength was in keeping people at nager's reach. "I'm far from beautiful."
      "Not with hair the color of a raven's wing and eyes as dark as the wood of my spear." his hand beneath her chin made her look at him again. There was no way a renSime could lie to her, but even still she had a hard time believing him. "Yer blushes outshine the crimson dawn in fall against the pale cast of yer moon lit face." A shiver went up her spine at Dorityan's honeyed words. No one had ever spoken such sweet words to her, not even her partner, sharm lord Racinda. "I can feel your pulse flutter beneath my fingertips, no matter how hard you hold your field against me."
      "Stop it!" she pulled back, aghast at her own reaction.
      "At your will, my lord." he held out his hands to her, again all proper and subservient renSime. His twining tentacles, however were not regulation. They danced and beckoned to her, promising her something she had no name for but could almost zlin at the edge of her mind.
      "Don't tease." she clenched her hands to her chest. Those strong hands, reaching for her, turned palm down in utter submission.
      "I don't." he said simply, letting his handling tentacles retract. "Your choice, my lord."

      Dorityan gave up. It isn't working. In the past he had gotten a few of the younger lords to relax enough with his teasing they at least would treat the occasion as something more than a simple chore. Why did Pyotr have to drop the round bale on his foot this week? he whined at fate. Normally Dorityan hated having to come in for transfer early, but he couldn't let any of his troopers take the selyn hit for excessive augmentation when he himself could well afford it.
      Normally he could smooth out a small shortage by simply going closer to hard need than the schedule called for, but the 200 kilo bale of hay had not been going to remove itself from Pyotr's foot without help. He sighed, "Come on wit ye, lets be gettin this over wit." He didn't even want to have her remember his overtures now. Dorityan would never take selyn from Galina again if he could help it, much less anything else.
      "Do you really want to be so abrupt?" Galina reversed course so rapidly Dorityan stumbled.
      "No" slipped out before he could stop it. Ye'd think I were still sixteen. he grumbled to himself. "I meant to say, I am at your will, m'lord Galina."
      "Of course you are?" One of her dark eyebrows raised. "Although now I don't know how much of a hurry I am in."
      Dorityan felt his heart sink into his feet. This was not what he wanted. Retrieving his hands, he carefully checked to be certain he was not showing the need eating at him. While a renSime couldn't consciously control himself to the degree a lord could, Dorityan certainly did not wish to appear out of control. It was very much like trying to draw a picture of someone he had only zlinned, but with age came experience. Dorityan had plenty of age, at least in his own opinion. "I have work to do this evening." he thought of having to sort his socks.
      "How did you end up short three months running?" she reached out for him this time. Insects crawled up his arms as Dorityan resisted pulling away, or perhaps it was simply how light her touch was.
      "Various disasters." he shrugged, not at all wanting to talk about it. "Nothing to bother a lord about."
      "You aren't a bother, Dorityan."
      He snorted. "Come on, m'lord."
      "So be it." Galina shook her head, probably quite glad to be rid of him. The resulting transfer was as dull and bland as so many of them had been. Admittedly Galina didn't knock him around, but still it was about as exciting as the sock sorting with which he had begged off her company.
      It was so bad, Dorityan hardly even felt emotionally let down afterwards, even with his decision not to see Galina again. He had been so very lonely, for so many years, it probably should have stung horribly to have to withdraw again into his indifferent shell but all Dorityan felt was numb.
      "Thank you, my lord Galina. At your will and by the will of Sergei, my arm and my heart are at thy service." he bowed his head in subservience to Galina as the personal representative of the Sergei Demense at this very moment. He knelt at her feet.
      The cool stone bit into his knees as his weight came to rest. Her hand rested on the back of neck in a caress Dorityan would have given anything to press back against. Delicate long fingers caressed the sensitive nape of his neck, forcing him to concentrate on the slightly larger bit of sand digging in under his left kneecap lest his field respond to Galina's touch. "Be well and do your best, Master Sargent renSime Dorityan Sergei." Galina's soft lips brushed the short hairs at the base of Dorityan's skull.
      Pain blinded him momentarily as he drove his fingers and tentacles into the muscles of his thighs. The pain was good. It distracted him. What Dorityan wanted was wrong. He wanted Galina and he had known it since he met her. Finally the door closed behind her. Shaking, he let his muscles relax. As the pain faded from his legs, the bands around his heart clamped down with the force of a vice.
      Her heart shaped face and pale skin haunted his vision. Panting with the efforts of his denial, Dorityan finally managed to rise to his feet. Looking around, Dorityan noticed the book Galina had forgotten on the table. Peace and Freedom, he finally noted the title. With a wry grin he opened it and flipped through the crudely bound pages. His own handwriting glared back at him from across the gulf of years. Dorityan had written the thing over twenty years ago, when he had been young and headstrong, still dreaming of changing the world. Now his own words mocked him and chided him for the callow child he had been.
      Possession of such a book would have been the iron tipped lash and twenty four hours of attrition for lord Galina if she had gotten caught in possession of it. Merely being able to read it, much less write it would have been death by the Hunt for Dorityan if anyone had known of either.

CHAPTER 2

      In a panic, Galina ran back to the transfer room. I forgot the shenned book! her heart pounded. She had almost made it back to her tiny cubicle immediately above the sharm when she remembered it. Praying no one would find it before she could hide it, she hit her highest level of augmentation as she raced down the dimly lit hall. True dusk was hardly more than an hour later than official sunset this evening and the last fading rays of the sun glimmered in the dust motes from the rushes strewn on the floor.
      They made it slick beneath her smooth soled boots. The door to the reception area opened too fast for her to stop. With a crash, she collided with the heavy oak. Stars drifted before her eyes as she finally managed to look up into Dorityan's startled eyes. He winked quickly and offered her a hand. The grin on his face and the lilt to his nager told her exactly what the wink meant.
      Galina squeezed his calloused hand as he lifted her to her feet.
      "If'n yer gonna be flittin through the hall liken' ye just did, yer not gonna be makin' yer month a'tall." his tentacle slid briefly across the back of her hand before he released it.
      "I don't want you to tell me such things." she snarled, embarrassed at having acted the idiot.
      "At your will, my lord Galina." his face and field went cold and remote. It was like he had put up a steel wall between them. Dorityan bowed formally.
      "Be well and do your best, renSime Dorityan." Galina tried to put her apology into her words for fear he was not zlinning. He straightened, but still had his eyes lowered. "Come now, Dorityan. I am sorry for snapping at you."
      "You don't not got to be apologizing to no renSime, m'lord." he looked up and his eyes blazed in fury.
      With a gasp, Galina stepped back and clenched her hands together behind herself. She shook her head no. Heart pounding again, this time for no reason she could tell, Galina simply stared at him, wishing she knew what to say.
      "Don't you be messin' yer head wit it." Dorityan grimaced and turned away.
      Of its own accord, Galina found her hand reaching out to catch Dorityan by the shoulder. Her thumb slid down inside his tunic and she felt the cool slickness of heavy scar tissue. "What happened to you?" she asked, knowing no normal punishment would have left such extensive damage.
      "Not a thing for ye to be thinkin about, m'lord." he shrugged off her touch. A flare of remembered pain burned her hand before it slipped off his shoulder.
      "Why didn't you get it healed properly?" she blocked his escape.
      "Ye are the nosy one." he snorted, his dark eyes returning to their normal rich brown from the black of his anger. "Let's just be leavin' it at my gettin' in the way of a bear."
      "If you wish." she wished she could help. Gently she turned him around by the shoulders. He relented, his muscles and nager screaming for her to leave him alone. Unwilling submission to orders had every muscle in his body trembling. Slowly, she extended her laterals and let her hands trace over Dorityan's back. "These are whip scars." she hissed, recognizing what had caused the damage. In some places, almost a cent deep, there were gouges taken out of the muscles of his back. His field twisted around the damaged nerves from his shoulders all the way down to his buttocks. It was so faint she would have never noticed it if she hadn't been zlinning for it, but it was there.
      "Yes" he tipped his head back. Dorityan's tentacles twined around his fingers, wrapping them so tightly they whitened with the pressure. "Happy?"
      "Of course not." she rested her hand on his neck, caressing the taut cords with her fingers and thumb. One of her dorsals reached up and ran through his soft, short hair.
      "But now ye know." he shivered under her touch, field flaring with shame and fear.
      "You've never done anything to deserve a beating like this." Galina was almost close enough now to feel the heat rising off his body. "You wouldn't be the Master Sargent if you did." since the Master Sargent position was only given to a renSime with a perfect record.
      "As I but told ye, got in the way of'n a bear." a trickle of sweat made Galina's thumb slick against Dorityan's neck. "Ye be done wit me, m'lord?" his heard beat so fast Galina could almost feel it in her own chest.
      "Certainly, Dorityan."

      With shaking hands, Dorityan pulled the pipe from his tunic pocket. It took him three tries before he got it packed to his satisfaction. Finally he got it lit and drawing correctly. The thick, heavy smoke bit at his throat. The sweet, musty scent was heavenly as he inhaled the rich drug. Blowing a perfectly round smoke ring, he looked up at the ceiling. One of the tiles was cracked and faded.
      Finally it hit and Dorityan sighed in relief. The remembered pain from the time he had been nearly beaten to death faded back into the past where it belonged. He clamped the stem of his pipe between his teeth and made his way back to the barracks.
      The practice yard was empty but for the few hardy souls waiting to practice their night combat. The last light of the sun faded from the snow remaining in the lee of the high stone walls. Letting himself zlin, he sat on a bench at the edge of the yard. Often Dorityan wondered if any of the youngsters were his, or his grandchildren now.
      Old Sharm Lord Sergei had bred two fine sons and a daughter by Dorityan out of his beloved wife Tanya. A single tear tracked down his face at the memory of his beautiful Tanya. She had been as blond haired and blue eyed as any lord. With a ready laugh and smile that never seemed to leave her face. Even when the sharm guards had come for their children on their second birthday.
      Even when her heart had failed her, only days after her thirtieth birthday, she had had one last smile for him. Tanya had told him, "Take care of Sergei for me." and died in his arms. He had wanted to howl with the loss, but the memory of her last wish had kept him going long enough to be able to finally understand. Certainly Tanya had loved him, but to her, Sergei was all. At one time, Dorityan had been so dedicated. His experience with the rogue Inducted, Ikanir, had opened a crack for him to question what he had always known to be right, long before Tanya had died. After her death, Dorityan had stopped fighting fate and simply waited to die.
      At last, only a few years ago, he had met another beautiful young woman. Again, a woman totally dedicated to Sergei. This time though, his heart had chosen wrong.
      The heat of the burning hemp was fading as his pipe had gone out from neglect. Absently, Dorityan lit it again, watching the new youngster trying to manage to catch the old Corporal Pyotr in the dark. A grin reached his face as Pyotr lured the lass right into the rock hard snowbank. Her swearing at this result almost turned the ice to steam.
      Dorityan only realized he had laughed out loud, when she turned to him. His teeth closed on the pipe stem with a clack as he finally, clearly, zlinned her nager. She had the exact same, light on snowfield feel, as Tanya. Blue-grey smoke drifted towards the stars overhead as he sat, stunned. Finally he turned his attention away, focusing on the new main office for Sergei. The lights were still on. I can't do this anymore.

      A faint trickle of light spilled out into the hallway through the partially open door. Dorityan nodded to Ivan and Anata, flicking a tentacle at the bit of lint marring the breast of Anata's vest. She blushed furiously and brushed it off. "Better." he whispered under his breath. Holding his head high, he took a deep breath and entered Sharm Lord Sergei's office.
      After closing the door behind himself, he set himself at parade rest, waiting for permission to speak. The scratching of his Lord's quill pen was shockingly loud, even over the hiss and pop of the fire on the hearth. "At ease Master Seargent Dorityan." Sharm Lord Diomid looked askance at his bare arms. "There is a problem in the barracks?"
      "No, my Lord Sergei." a trickle of sweat ran down his face as he looked at Sharm Lord Diomid's bracelets. They glimmered in the overhead lights, a promise of harm if he even thought of trying to get his tentacles on those forearms. Once in his life, Dorityan had transfer from a Sharm Lord, although he hadn't known it at the time, and it was an experience he could never forget. "I wish to report a crime." his choice of words was damning enough as he knelt before the desk.
      "I see." his Lord's voice dropped so low Dorityan could feel it through his knees on the floor. In utter submission, he splayed his hands and tentacles on the smooth surface of the desk. The air shifted as Sharm Lord Sergei stood, sending a shiver up Dorityan's spine as the breeze brushed his exposed laterals. For an instant his stomach clenched as he couldn't help but think of Sharm Lord Diomid crushing the far too delicate organs against the oak desk. "And what is the extent of the crime?" frighteningly enough, Sharm Lord Diomid did not allow him to pull at least his laterals back.
      The wording sent a shock of terror through him. Now there was no turning back. "The crimes are many in number." he spoke in High Simelan, damning himself beyond all redemption. Continuing, he listed the books he had written, shifting to Low Simelan to prove his error there. Perhaps if I tell him everything, he will not pull my involvement with Galina from my mind.

      Galina jumped to her feet. The stone was cold beneath them. Before she knew it, two of the renSime guards had opened the door. Without even waiting for her to grab a robe, they prodded her out the door. A single trickle of sweat, or possibly blood, traced down her back from where they prodded her with their spears. Naked, she shivered in the draft coming down the hallway.
      Once, she slipped on the rushes and now she knew the wetness tracing down her back was blood. The fire along her shoulder blade from the ten cent long cut reminded her how very sharp the renSime's spears were. Without even giving her a chance to catch her breath, she was shoved into a brightly lit room.
      Unable to see, she zlinned. A thousand staring eyes looked at her from a field of cool mist. He said it was hidden. her pulse raced in panic. Only one person she had ever zlinned had a field with eyes, Sharm Lord Diomid!

      "And just what was hidden, lord Galina?" Sharm Lord Diomid's deep baritone wrenched Dorityan back from the horror of seeing Galina brought before them a prisoner. Crimson blood traced down her back from almost ten cuts and nicks on the smooth skin of her back. With the cry of a trapped animal, Galina scurried backwards, heedless of the damage she was taking from the razor sharp spears of the guards. Damn it all to hell. Dorityan cursed as he realized Sharm Lord Sergei must have plucked Galina's complicity from Dorityan's mind without even a breath of physical contact. He hadn't even known Sharm Lord Diomid had called for her, but obviously he had simply commanded the guards at the door to do it mentally. Dorityan himself had felt the touch of Sharm Lord Sergei's mind, both the old one and the new, many times and knew quite well the strength of the line.
      Both Ivan and Anata were trying to keep the flat of their blades against her skin, but her struggles drove the edges deep into her skin. "I did it." Dorityan waved the guards back. Automatically, they stood back, flanking the door. Galina huddled against it, sobbing.
      "Dorityan is no longer your Master Seargent." the Sharm Lord stood again behind his desk, looking far too formidable for Dorityan's taste, despite his lack of height. Although hearing the fact he no longer held any rank crushed Dorityan's spirit like nothing else could. All his life he had been loyal to Sergei, in deed, if not in thought and word. The salty taste of his own blood filled his mouth as he bit at his lip, trying not to break down with the breaking of his heart. "Bring her to me." the four words did what even his self imposed disgrace could not.
      "No!" he withdrew his exposed tentacles and stood between Galina and the Sharm Lord. Sheer terror tried to drive him to his knees. The Sharm Lord's focused attention did. Despite the hammer blow of the Sharm Lord's field between his eyes, Dorityan looked up into the blue grey eyes of his ex-liege lord and snarled in one last act of defiance.

      Galina saw Dorityan collapse completely under the weight of Sharm Lord Diomid's displeasure at Dorityan's defiance. He tried to defend me. she felt her own field stall in shock. Then she zlinned Dorityan, even through Sharm Lord Diomid's unbearably heavy field and threw herself on Dorityan's form. Already Selyn circulation had stopped in his body. His heart slowed and faltered.
      Throwing herself into the fray, she called to Dorityan with her heart and mind. Thinking of his so sweet and kind teasing of her, she reached for his spirit. Why had she never before noted how very handsome he was, with his kind face and full lips, now still beneath her own? Life finally returned as she poured Selyn through him, trying to match Dorityan's normal rhythms. Unthinkingly, she caressed his arms with her tentacles, this time not caring how perverse it must have seemed for one Sime to be caressing another. His tentacles were beautiful as they came out to twine with hers.
      The soft skin covering them was like velvet, so much like hers and so unlike, with the knife sharpness of a renSime's touch. With a sob of release, she wrapped him in her field, holding him safe from the Sharm Lord as best she could, no matter how poor that best may have been.
      "You love each other." the disgust was plain in the Sharm Lord's voice. "Out" he dismissed the guards, but before they could leave, "Send for Lord and Ruler Vayer and Sharm Lord Fatima, if you would. Lord Fatima is welcome as well."

      Dorityan screamed as fire laced through his brain, tracing through every shadow and corridor of his mind. Fears, loves and treason were all exposed to the alien ripping through his head. Agony even greater than his beating at Ikanir's hands tried to rip his soul from his body. "Enough" he heard a man's silken tenor say with more than a trace of disgust.
      Panting, Dorityan fell back against the surprisingly soft cushions beneath him. He blinked the stinging sweat from his eyes and tried to look around. The room was a dark blur, even to zlinning. A crushing headache made him retch. Smooth, long fingered hands held him up. His stomach emptied itself into a basin provided for the purpose. Grateful for even the small favor of not disgracing himself in this one last way, he tried to raise his hand to touch his benefactor. It shook and trembled like the last aspen leaves of fall. "Easy" the same soft voice told him.
      Startled, he looked up into the most exquisite silver eyes he had ever seen. The man had a long, slender face with almost inhumanly high cheekbones, a knife sharp nose like the prow of a ship and a fine, pointed chin all framed in long white blond hair. He turned and with a voice like the crack of a whip, "You don't have to torture the man."
      "He's earned death by the Hunt at least twenty times over, Nashen." a very tall, very large man with silvered hair down to the floor and heavily lined features said. Ice blue eyes turned to him and Dorityan whimpered in absolute terror. Sharm Lord Arkay was the man his nurses had all told him would get him if he were bad. Now Dorityan knew he didn't stand a chance. "As has lord Galina."
      "No" Sharm Lord Diomid put his hand on Sharm Lord Arkay's shoulder. "We will not Hunt Galina. She did nothing wrong."
      "No?" the old terror of renSimes turned to Sharm Lord Sergei. "The book was hers."
      "That is not enough for a Hunt." a tall, black haired and surprisingly bearded man turned to him.
      "Lord Vayer." Dorityan cried out, reaching for him. "Don't Hunt her." he begged for Galina's life. "Take me, but don't Hunt her." he was willing to be run to death from now to eternity if only it would save Galina from a similar fate. "She didn't know how wrong she was."
      In horror, Dorityan watched as Sharm Lord Arkay reached forth his hand, "She will know."
      "Don't do it, Arkay." the silver eyed man turned to the old Sharm Lord. "Let her keep her innocence."
      "As you wish, Alamir." surprisingly, Sharm Lord Arkay dropped his hand from Galina, cowering in fear. "You will ..."
      "No, this is my place." Lord Vayer took lord Galina in a deceptively delicate grasp. But it must have been excruciatingly painful from the way her face turned even paler. Veins stood out stark beneath her fair skin. "Will you submit willingly, or will you be Hunted alongside Dorityan."
      "No" Dorityan lept to his feet, despite the fact it made his head feel like it was going to fall off. "Don't kill her. Do anything you like to me, but don't kill her."
      "No, Dorityan, please." her eyes were like two bottomless holes in her face. "I'll take the punishment for you."
      Lord Vayer closed his eyes and sighed. "I can't do it."
      "You have to." Sharm Lord Arkay's bracelets rang down onto his wrists. The pain of it made Dorityan's knees give way again. "We have to keep discipline in Russia."
      "By killing these two? Neither is violent, nor has either one killed. And, I would guess, even Dorityan's crimes were not such that anyone else was harmed as a result of them, true?" the silver haired man's arms were around him, holding him close.
      "I won't lie. No, nothing Dorityan has done has harmed another directly. Even his treasonous writings were all in High Simelan." Sharm Lord Arkay's expression actually softened. "What would you have me do? We can not let Dorityan have access to the renSime cadre again."
      "I'll take him with me, as my own personal guard. Let her stay here."
      "What am I supposed to do with her?" Sharm Lord Sergei glared at Galina. "I don't dare let her get close to the renSimes again now that she knows they are people like us, Lord Fatima."
      "Has that hurt anyone so far?" the man behind him, who must obviously be Lord Fatima, asked plainly.
      "Not yet, but it will." Sharm Lord Diomid pulled Galina to her feet roughly.
      "Don't be so rough with her, Diomid." Lord Fatima gently pulled Galina into his embrace with Dorityan. "As long as they continue to be discrete, I think Fatima can manage them. She has advantages in keeping her children in line."
      Dorityan felt Galina shiver against him. Tentatively at first, then with Lord Fatima's encouragement, he wrapped his arms around her for the first time. As if he had come home, she fitted against him so very perfectly.
      Sharm Lord Diomid threw his hands in the air, making his bracelets jangle madly. "Whatever you want, Nashen. It isn't like I can say no to you anymore than I can to Kirina. And I am certainly no ogre to want to Hunt people."
      "We can't just let them go free, Nashen." Lord Vayer's eyes darkened. "Both of them have committed high treason. They have to be punished."
      "No, let Fatima try to manage them first." Nashen's presence was as warm and supporting as any Dorityan had ever felt. He wondered again why someone, the ruler of an entire Demense, was going to such effort for the two of them. "I can not see love punished, Dorityan. It is not my way, nor the way of Fatima." he spoke for Dorityan's ears alone. "Besides, if you make a public spectacle of this indiscretion, then you will have to tell why we are having a Hunt after so many years without. The trial will cause more harm than the crimes."
      "True enough." Lord Vayer sighed heavily. "I have never called for a Hunt."
      "I have, too many times." Sharm Lord Arkay's eyes greyed. "Thank you for the reminders, Nashen. I had not wished to return to those days. As Dorityan's treason only came to light after his confession, I think that finding the three books he had written and placing them under our control will be enough. Although if, somehow, we see an increase in the level of unrest we will have to rethink our position."
      "If we do have problems, perhaps Dorityan may be the only one to be able to defuse them." Lord Nashen's voice sounded almost amused. "It would be clever to have a tool to use against Maryam's demagoguery. Besides, if nothing else I would absolutely love to have a renSime who doesn't murder Russian every time he opens his mouth." Lord Nashen's soft chuckle was one of the most wonderful things Dorityan had ever heard in his life.
      "I am entirely at your will, both in word and deed, my Lord Fatima." Dorityan said with an honesty he had not known since that day over thirty years before.

CHAPTER 3

      The morning breeze cut through Galina's lightweight tunic and shirt like a knife. Only her heavy woolen skirts saved her from having to augment to keep from freezing. For a moment, she simply watched as Dorityan took his place at the head of the Sergei renSime cadre one last time. The paired flags of Russia and Sergei stirred restlessly on their standards, the heavy red and white silk rustling in the shifting air.
      Dorityan himself was a splendid figure of a man, no matter how much Galina might have wanted to deny it. Heavier, with age and life long hard work, than any other Sime Galina had ever seen, his broad shoulders seemed to strain at the seams of his well worn shirt beneath his uniform vest. She tried to imagine what he would look like in the black of Fatima rather than the white of Sergei, and couldn't manage it.
      "I would like to present to you, your new Master Seargent, formerly Seargent renSime Khristov Sergei." Diomid raised his hands over the still troops. "Master Seargent renSime Dorityan Sergei has chosen to retire to Fatima, to live out his life in peace." The word mir or 'peace', seemed ominously foreshadowing. "We are all pleased at his long service to Sergei and Russia as a whole. He served Sharm Lord Vanya Sergei from the moment he left his schooling. He served through Lord and Ruler Vayer's regency of Sergei with all the honor anyone could wish. He has been our servant and stood by our side as steadfastly as our Mother could ever wish. He was present at the birth of the Azov Hegemony and may he live to serve in peace through its glory." Sharm Lord Sergei completed his remarks in this seemingly interminable ceremony. His horse stamped his iron shod hooves impatiently on the flagstones, striking sparks from them, seemingly in emphasis.
      Lord Fatima came to the fore, his much higher tenor seeming almost childish after Sharm Lord Diomid's heavy baritone. "Master Seargent renSime Dorityan Sergei spent his life in honorable service of Sergei and his country, now let us honor him in his new role as Chief of Staff in Camera for Fatima!" Which was simply a fancy term for a special agent directly bound to the head of a Demense, although even Galina wouldn't have known of that if she had not been present when the combined heads of Sergei and Fatima had decided on it. When Lord Fatima let his hand rest on Dorityan's shoulder and nodded to the troops, they cheered as loudly as anyone could wish.
      The noise startled Lord Fatima's mare, and she began to sidle. Dorityan easily rested his hand on her neck, calming her instantly. The gesture caused the cheers to grow. Even from here, Galina could see the tears sparkle in Dorityan's eyes as he handed his spear to the new Master Seargent Khristov. She could almost feel the silky smooth wood slide beneath her own fingers and tentacles as Dorityan passed on his badge of authority.
      Now the cheers were silent as Dorityan looked over what had been his troops. "I been honored and glad te lead ye for over ten years. Ye will always be the pride of our mat', Rodina, and hope fer our future. Guard our father, Sergei, and love him wit all yer heart. He'll not be leavin' ye nor be shunnin' ye as long as yer faith and hope guard him wit yer arm and steel. Be well and do yer best!"
      "At Her will and the will of Sharm Lord Diomid!" the troops called back in final tribute to their beloved leader. Galina could hear more than a few voices crack in the ranks at the sudden change in the normally smooth procession of their lives. Or perhaps the swell of emotion was simply for the loss of a man they had known so intimately for so very long.
      She could see Dorityan's hand clench and release on air, as if missing the feel of his spear, which he had carried for so long. It would be returned to him, as it was only symbolic to have given it to Khristov, but for now its absence made Dorityan almost seem alone in the world, despite the nearness of his new liege and the ranks of troops arrayed before him.

      Now the tears he had held back came to the fore. The now almost black wood of the shaft of his spear blurred and he thought he could feel its comforting weight in his hand. For a moment the sun cleared the clouds, striking off the blade, turning it into a brilliant echo of the sun itself. Dorityan took a deep breath and got control of himself again. He looked over the ranks of those who had been his family to see Galina's face, a burning brand beneath her sweep of raven's wing hair.
      His vision cleared and he could see his own sadness reflected in the faces of the people facing him. They were all so much younger, even Khristov. Perhaps it was time to move on Dorityan now understood why so few renSime guards who retired lived much beyond the event. Lord Fatima's hand resting on his shoulder felt so very right it astonished Dorityan. It was as if he were truly happy to have Dorityan, not simply as a way to keep a problem from exploding beyond control.
      "I am happy to have you, Dorityan." Lord Fatima's voice was pitched to reach Dorityan's ears alone, but still it held a warmth Dorityan had never thought to hear from one of the great nobles he had spent his life serving in near silence. "Truly, Fatima is different. Give her a chance."
      As the new Master Seargent renSime Khristov gave his first commands, reforming the square to paired lines, the noise allowed Dorityan to respond in relative security, "I am entirely at your will and command, my Lord Fatima."
      "You have no idea what music it is to my ears to hear you speak, renSime Dorityan. Thank you." there was a slight chuckle to Lord Fatima's tone and Dorityan looked up at him out of the corner of his eye. Suppressed laughter made his silver eyes almost as bright as sunlight off polished metal.
      "Then I will please your ears with my honeyed words as best my poor tongue may manage." he spoke in High Simelan, knowing full well the rhythms and cadence were as perfect as only thousands of hours of practice could create. The old sharm lord who had taught him the language had been a freeholder and true bastard, most likely of Kirov, who had been expelled from his Demense for illicit poetry and unnamed for his refusal to no longer write the words of his heart.
      "If only you were noble, Dorityan." Lord Fatima's hand caressed his hair, as one would caress a hound or a cat. Dorityan was used to it, but still between the words and the gesture he couldn't turn his mind from wrenching pain they evoked before it reflected in his nager. "I'm sorry, Dorityan. I didn't mean to offend."
      "My Lord need not deny himself for the sake of this small one. I am at your will and at your command, both in my innermost heart and my outermost hand, my Lord Fatima." the ritual words of the Way of the Rus calmed him in their familiarity if nothing else. What he had truly wished to say was to rail at the injustice of being born with a mind yet denied all use of it by his body. Yet justice was not the way of the world and fate was not to be denied.
      "When we are alone, Dorityan, I would prefer it if you speak your mind. It is not the Way of Peace to deny your humanity despite my possession of your body." Lord Fatima's silver eyes seemed to bore right through Dorityan before he turned away. "You can ride, I would guess?"
      "Yes, my Lord." he bowed his head away from the intimacy of their prior conversation.

      To say that Galina was terrified would have been the understatement of the Azov Hegemony. If only I had Dorityan here with me. she knew he would not truly be able to do anything physical to help, but his presence often calmed her when nothing else would. She smoothed her skirts nervously, twining her tentacles in their folds. The rich black wool was perfect, with not a snag or a stain to be found, but still her fears placed flaws in it invisible to human eyes.
      "Come in." she blinked in surprise at the timid knock on the door. Usually renSimes simply entered, not even announcing their arrival at all. A tall, dark haired woman peered around the doorframe, not afraid, but simply curious. "Come on." Galina couldn't help but smile. She set her public field to simple acceptance and welcome.
      "Pleased to be meetin' ye, m'lord." the renSime's voice quavered with the hardest need Galina had ever zlinned in a renSime. "Me name's Inara, m'lord." her arms still held the deep imprints of bracers, outlining her roniplin glands in angry red against the white of the skin of her forearms.
      "Please be seated, Inara." Galina rose to her feet, nodding towards the lounge against the wall. "I'm afraid I'm new here and I don't know what you would prefer."
      "I'd be wantin' to hurry a bit. Me mate's gonna be wantin me when he's done wit lord Kharin." her shiver of suppressed desire smoothed away under Galina's easy shift to the first stages of promise. The words sank in then and Galina had a hard time maintaining her composure. They sent me half of a mating pair as my first transfer! The level of trust in her abilities shown by such a thing was enormous. When renSimes were allowed to produce children they were given transfer by the best lords in a Demense. Never before had Galina been given such responsibility.
      Galina remembered Dorityan's attempt to draw out his last transfer. "Come here, my lass." she went to the lounge and leaned against the headboard. "I'll be wantin' to please you, little one." she exaggerated the drawl of a renGen, letting the first thrill of Gen desire show through the simple promise she had begun with. Inara's eyes widened and darkened.
      "Oh ye are a pretty one." Inara purred, stalking across the floor. "Don't ye be afraid." the dark pit of need snapped into clear focus to Galina's senses. She let a shiver of her own fear of failure color her public field, drawing Inara's instincts to the fore.
      With the ease of a cat, Inara slipped onto the lounge, coming to rest on Galina's lap. As if it were a ray of sun peeking through overcast, Galina let her promise focus over Inara a little bit at a time. The tentativeness of the gesture teased a growl from Inara's throat.
      Easily, Galina let her own show drive Inara's body into healing itself, driving the renSime even harder into need. As the darkness peaked, their tentacles intertwined and with a brilliant flash of light and heat, Inara grasped the Gen she thought she held and pulled the life into her.
      The very sharp sweetness of life renewed coursed through both of them. For a long moment, Galina simply held the renSime, caressing her arms with her own tentacles, sharing the aftermath of the exquisite transfer. For while Galina certainly enjoyed her own personal transfers, there was something so ineffably wonderful about being able to pleasure the renSimes she served with such ease.

      Dorityan couldn't help but gape in awe. From the thick wool covers on the bed to the fine glass pen across the rich cream parchment on the desk, there was not one implement or piece of furniture which was not of the finest the Demense could provide.
      "Will this be suitable? I am afraid I can not let you continue in the barracks." Lord Fatima's voice held that edge of humor which Dorityan was coming to learn was a normal part of the man's outlook on life.
      "This is part of the Fatima suite." he finally managed to stutter out past his shock, entirely forgetting who he was talking with.
      "Indeed. Our rooms are through that door." Lord Fatima pointed to the brass bound oak portal. "I'm afraid there is no lock, on either side, but then Fatima has always trusted her Chief when she has had one."
      "Then Fatima," he almost stumbled over the name, "has had this sort of thing happen before?"
      "Yes." Lord Fatima smiled. "We are stricter than the other Demense with our renSimes and Gens, but at least once or twice a generation we get one like you. You'll be expected to learn Arabic as well as the languages you already command. You do know Low Simelan and sharm Gen, do you not?"
      "My Low Simelan is not as good as it could be, my Lord." the promise of continued learning was sweeter than any drug Dorityan had ever indulged, almost drowning out his desire for Galina's presence to share his good fortune. "My sharm Gen is passable, although I have had rare opportunity to practice the dialect." it often sounded much like the Russian the renSimes spoke, but the intonations and written form were wildly different.
      "You'll be getting the chance to practice, at least the written form. I expect I will not have to encourage you to study the works of your predecessors and hopefully add to them." he waved at the wealth of books lining one wall of the room. Dorityan had certainly heard of the great libraries of Kirov and Fatima, but he couldn't imagine they could hold more than the over fifty volumes in the bookcases facing him. "If you wish, with a suitable escort and garments, you may select works from the sharm library."
      His jaw dropped. "There are more?" Dorityan stared at Lord Fatima.
      "This is only a tiny fraction of the works Fatima has garnered over the years." Lord Fatima laughed out loud. "You must feel as if you have been thrown through a looking glass. I'll expect you ready to get to work at exactly half an hour past noon. Until then, please try to remember the real world does exist outside of dusty old books." and with that, he let himself out before Dorityan could recover his wits to hold the door for him.

      Galina was exhausted. Not only had she started her day with such an auspicious beginning as not one, but two fertility transfers, but had also assisted in a changeover and had actually given first transfer to the new renSime. For at least ten minutes after all the excitement was over, she simply sat on the edge of her desk and stared at the floor.
      After pulling herself together, she struggled to her feet. One more thing she walked out of her office and went to the reception desk. "Could you please tell me where my assigned rooms are?" Galina gave a rather worn smile to the hook nosed older lord sorting out a stack of transfer assignments.
      "It'll be no problem." he sorted through another pile of wax tablets. "Here it is." he pulled, "Special assignments." his long, dark finger ran down the list coming to the end, then his field rang with shock. "Oh my, I am sorry, my lord Galina. I didn't know."
      "Didn't know what?" she rested her hip on the edge of the desk and looked at the writing. Much to her surprise it was not in Cyrillic or Simelan script, but some unknown alphabet which seemed to be mostly made up of long squiggles with occasional dots and lines going up and down through it.
      Rather than answering her, the hawk faced man gestured her towards the door. His command to the renSime guards was as unintelligible as the script, but the guard bowed hastily and extended her tentacles for approval.
      At least the gesture was familiar, "Be well, renSime guard." Galina delicately stroked her field over the renSime's tentacles in acceptance of the respect given by the gesture.
      "At yer will, m'lord." she bowed again and stood aside for Galina to leave the room. Galina had to assume the renSime would show her the way from behind, as that seemed to be the only option available. With deft nudges from the guard's field, they made their way through the maze of the town house, gradually proceeding both up and to the east. If I weren't Sime, I'd be horribly lost. she looked around at the tapestries and mosaics on the wall. Strangely enough, they all looked like they were decorated with the odd script on the tablets she had seen.
      A cold breeze wafted down the hallway before Galina realized how far up they had come. The black clad guards looked more than normally threatening stationed at the next door. The guard following her indicated the door they stood before and Galina had to force herself not to turn and question the renSime. Rather she simply walked through the opened door.
      The door closed behind her. Before she could wave up the lights, Dorityan's quicksilver field shot through the darkness. Her heart raced. This is it. the smooth wood was warm against the palms of her hands.
      "If you wish to leave, I will not stop you." the now faint lights made Dorityan's sun darkened skin look almost black. "You did not have to stand up for me, my lord Galina." his voice trembled as if he were holding back some emotion she dared not zlin for fear of actually knowing what Dorityan felt.
      "I did." she set one foot in front of the other, forcing herself to move away from the security of possible escape. "I ..." she shook her head, her mouth unable to form the words.
      The silvery feel of Dorityan stilled and quieted. Galina knew it was impossible for a renSime to consciously control their field, but it seemed Dorityan had some way of at least shielding his innermost thoughts and feelings. "What is it, my lord?"
      "Why are you so formal, Dorityan?" she drank in his heavy features, imprinting them on her mind in case he decided to send her away. The silver traces at his temples seemed to almost glow in the near darkness, reflecting the lights of his nager.
      "I could ask you the same thing," he paused for long enough she could hear her pulse pound in her own ears, "Galina." Hearing her bare name on Dorityan's tongue sent a shock of thrilled recognition through her soul.
      "I did not know your bare name was so formal." daringly, she stroked her fingers over the back of his hand.
      "At one time, there were those who called me Dori." he smiled wryly. "It has been many years," his field darkened in obvious sorrow, "but still I hold fond memories of that time."
      "Who was it who called you Dori?" Galina could feel the heat rising from his body. The scents of leather and sweat were faint, overlain by many things Galina could not recognize.
      "Those I shared my youth with, and Tanya." his voice caught on the name. At her unspoken question, "She was my wife."
      "I'm so very sorry, Dori." there was little more she could say. "I can tell you loved her."
      "And still do, Galina." he sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment. "Tanya has been gone for long over a decade, but I do still care for her and will till the day I die."
      "Then why did you try to save me?" she felt excluded by his contemplation of his wife.
      "Because love for one does not diminish love for another, Galina." his words froze her in her tracks. The quote from Mikhail Chernoye reminded her of how very different Dorityan was from other renSimes. Even most of the nobility were not conversant with the controversial poet, condemned and damned for his treason to the state by his own forbidden words.

CHAPTER 4

      Waking to find a warm, smooth body in his arms was so unfamiliar at this point in his life, Dorityan snorted in surprise. Finally his horrible headache had receded, although he knew if he were under any additional stress it would return in unholy fury. Galina woke almost as suddenly as he had, uncomfortably clenching her tentacles around his arms.
      "Easy, lass." he tried to shift her grip to a more suitable position.
      "Sorry, Dori." she relaxed her hold, now slowly stroking his forearms. This was far more than comfortable and he sighed at the warm touch.
      "Tis all right. Ye didn't know." his words slurred back to the dialect of his childhood in his relaxation at her touch. "Ye feel delightful, m'lass." he nuzzled her neck. Thick dark hair tickled his nose, reminding him of their physical differences, but at the moment he simply enjoyed her warmth and closeness.
      "You would think I would know better." her bitterness was so strong Dorityan could taste it at the back of his throat.
      "Not if ye've not been wit another Sime." he let his tentacles twine with hers. Dorityan had never known anything else. To him the very idea of intimate contact with the opposite larity was not even a concept he could entertain.
      "They feel so different than in transfer." her bitterness receded, to be replaced with a shyness almost as palpable. "Softer and more welcoming."
      "There's no desperation now." the velvet of her tentacles against his own was almost enough to make a lie of his words. "We have time. Relax here for a while." he stroked his cheek against her soft neck.
      "I would love to."

      For the last time this evening, Dorityan yanked his tentacles back into his bracers. In addition to the disorientation caused by the steel inlay on the sides of his new bracers, the fit on them was not quite perfect. His laterals hit the padded stops again as they tried to escape their torment and he hissed in pain.
      "What is it, Dorityan?" Lord Fatima rested his hand on the slick, hard leather.
      Unable to quite suppress a yelp, Dorityan did manage to not pull his arm away, although the effort caused stars to appear in his eyes. "It will pass, my Lord." he did not wish to complain of such a minor thing. While the other renSimes on the docks worked bare armed, his status as a guard and protector did not allow Dorityan any such luxury. His old bracers had fit well enough he could forget their presence for most of the time, but the new black ones were rubbing him raw even though it was not the last week of the month. "I think if I shim them better, they'll not rub so much."
      "No, Dori." somehow Lord Fatima had wheedled his nickname out of him within hours of their working together to keep the cleaning of the warehouses running smoothly for the opening of the trading season. "Give." the voice of command was unmistakable.
      "At your will." he bowed his head respectfully. Lord Fatima's manner was such that Dorityan couldn't even think of truly denying him anything he asked for. They stood under an overhang and Dorityan offered his forearms in their bracers for inspection.
      Surprisingly, Lord Fatima slid his tentacles into the catches and slipped them off. Dorityan could remove them himself, but it was an effort that usually took at least fifteen minutes to achieve. As the cool, damp air hit the open sores where the misfitting leather had bitten into the soft skin around his tentacle sheathes, he couldn't help but whimper in pain.
      "By the ..." Lord Fatima bit off his oath. "Dori, don't hide things like this from me. Do you understand me?" his eyes were dark with a concern Dorityan had never thought to see from one of the nobles he had worked with, sometimes on a daily basis. Even Karola, when she had been ascended, never had returned for him and held no care like this.
      "I understand you, my Lord. But I have to wear them for my work." he bit his lip over the protest as soon as it was uttered. "I mean, I will adjust them to get them to fit, my Lord." The cool misting rain felt exquisite as it drifted in under the awning. His tentacles stretched and twined in the damp mist, even his laterals.
      "No, Dori." Lord Fatima caught his chin and forced him to look up. "I will have proper ones made for you. Where did you find these?"
      "They are a standard size eight, my Lord." unfortunately Dori was almost an eight and a half, which was not a standard issue size. He had to shim them to get them to fit, and there hadn't been time to do a proper job. "I found them in the armory, where the extras were kept."
      "Very good thinking, not to wish to disturb the armorer. However, I don't want you injured for the lack of proper equipment." his words bit into Dorityan with a shame he never thought he could feel again. Wanting to please the tall, slender Lord Fatima had become a very important thing to Dorityan. "Tomorrow, you'll go bare. I don't think anyone is going to attack me in my own offices. I'll be going into seclusion by the end of the week. After that, the armorer should have a pair of custom bracers ready for your inspection."
      Dorityan gasped in shock. Only lords had custom fitted bracers. Although he had to ask, "When I put in the requisition, which style should they be in?" He didn't dare ask for the open design of a lord's bracers.
      A grin spread across Lord Fatima's face. "You would probably try to lie to me if you were to say you would be content with closed bracers."
      "Lord Fatima." Dorityan blurted out. "I wouldn't ask for open ones."
      "I know. That is why I will be putting in the request myself for open ones." Lord Fatima gave him one of those soft chuckles. "I do not think you would ever be a danger to a Gen or yourself in them."
      The level of trust this implied was astonishing. The reason combative renSimes wore closed bracers was so they could not kill. Closed bracers could not be gotten out of easily, and were designed such that only the handling tentacles could be exposed. "My heart and soul are at your will, Lord Fatima." Dorityan slid his wrists under Lord Fatima's hands.
      "As long as it is your choice." Lord Fatima's long fingers traced over the angry, weeping red sores on his arms, encouraging them to heal with unnatural speed. Soon all that was left was thin, tender, but healed skin.
      "It is." being given a choice, was what Dorityan had desired all his life.

      Galina paced the length of the room. Dori was only a day behind her now in his cycle. Sharm lord Famir had been quite delightful yesterday, if too young to be able to truly consummate the transfer, leaving Galina in a rather uncomfortable state. Now, as she waited for Dori to return with Lord Fatima Galina wondered if she had done the right thing.
      The heavy oak chair creaked under even her slight weight as she threw herself into its embrace. You are an idiot Galina wasn't sure if she was referring to her own nervousness, or Dori's insistence on working up to the last minute. "If anything happened to him on the docks ..." she fretted, pulling at a loose thread on the padded arm of the chair.
      "Lord Fatima was there, as were two lords." his voice startled her from the doorway. It was far tighter than Galina had ever heard it before. Deep lines etched themselves even further into his already weather darkened skin, forming grooves around his eyes and mouth that looked as if they would reach the bones beneath. "But it is good to hear you were concerned." dark circles beneath his eyes made them look even more remote than his usual reserve. "I am sorry if I sound distant, Galina. It is simply the stresses of need. If I am too much trouble I will go to one of your companions."
      "No, don't go." she stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her deep blue dressing gown. Being a lord, Galina had been in seclusion after her transfer with Famir. For a moment, her eyes flashed on Dorityan's new bracers. It wasn't the fact they were black, but rather the way he held them open which seemed so very wrong. Ruthlessly she repressed her quiver of fear before it could show in her public field. "Let me help you out of those." she held out her hands to him.
      "If you wish." his smile did not reach his eyes, although Galina could zlin his attempt.
      "I've not done this much." she dropped her eyes shyly. "I was never classified as having the potential to justify expanding my training as a fighter." Dori's skin was silky smooth near his tentacle sheathes compared to the rough callouses where the bracers normally rested againt his forearms. Although running her own tentacles in and amongst his to release the catches, seemed far more intimate than even the nights they had spent sleeping together. "You're farther into need than you should be, Dorityan." Galina tried to get some distance between them again.
      "It is as Lord Fatima wills." he said softly, as if he were speaking of a God and not a man. The resonance of unquestioning obedience in the words was shocking. Almost as shocking as how far into need he was when Galina finally zlinned its depths. He was even deeper than the few fertility transfers she had given. "Did he want you to go this far?" she let her public field shift to showing her concern and caring.
      "Yes" Dori said simply, letting his head rock back. "This feels so very good, Galina. Better than words could ever portray. I think you don't know what it is to live for years with having true need withheld."
      "There are times when I wish I didn't know." she reacted to his words with a start of fear. "How can you like the cold emptiness of need?"
      "Because it is only from the depths of need one can feel the true warmth of life, Galina." he looked down at her, eyes pitch black as he saw purely with his Sime senses and not with his eyes. "I have felt this fewer than a dozen times in my life, where I could truly indulge the sensations. Let me savor it." his voice held completely unexpected pleading.
      "What do you wish, Dorityan?" Galina was completely befuddled and confused by this point. There were depths to him she feared she would never reach.
      "I would have you, Galina." this time the smile did reach his darkened eyes. "I would have you as the heart of pine tastes the sweetness of winter's fire."
      Galina could barely understand the words as Dorityan gave them their poetic cadence, but their sheer beauty stilled her breath. Her body responded as if she truly were Gen, with the deepest, richest desire to give she had ever zlinned, either perceiving or displaying. As if a single star glimmered across a winter's meadow, Dorityan's life slowly receeded before the voracious darkness of need.
      "Come to me, my sweet mistress." his words could have as well been to Lady Death as to her. "I would dance with thee through night's mockery."
      Silently, Galina allowed herself to be swept up into Dorityan's arms. As if an invisible orchestra were playing in the background, he led her through the intricate steps of the latest pairs dance with a grace and ease she would have never imagined. He was so very good at it, Galina thought for a brief moment she could actually hear the musicians in the background. Finally the last measures came, and she looked up into Dorityan's dark eyes in wonder.
      They paused together after the final step. Galina could feel Dorityan's heart race beneath her hand on his back. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he leaned down as if to kiss her.
      "No!" she shouted, pulling away. It was all too much. She wanted to taste his lips and yet her fear of becoming too close won. It is unnatural she clenched her will over her desire for Dorityan's touch. When they had been merely sleeping together, Galina could separate herself from her longing to have more of Dorityan than the touch of his hands. But now, if they were both post, she knew there would be no turning back.

      Dorityan knew he should not go out in his current state, but had to get away to think. Galina's rejection at the final moment chiseled deep groves into his bones with the harshness of its blade. Unthinkingly, he grabbed his bracers from their hook near the door. Slipping them on, he hurried down to the courtyard. The shadows near the foregate protected him from possibly curious passerby.
      Need clenched at his gut with talons of midnight dark steel. The unfamiliar sensation wrenched at his self control. I will not hunt. Dorityan well knew the foolishness of even trying to lay his laterals on a Gen of any sort. Besides, it was not a Gen he wanted. His eyes wandered up to the blind eyes of darkened windows facing the yard. A messenger in Azov green clattered up to the main doors of the Fatima town house.
      His horse was sweat streaked and panting, despite the coolness of the air. A stableman came to lead the trembling animal away when the yard exploded into a fury of yipping and calling people. They rushed for the open door.
      The doorman fell beneath their feet as Dorityan ran towards them. A bright flare of sheer pain and shock shattered the ambient above and beyond the pure tumult of the raiders' high emotions. Unable to zlin for the blinding of his Sime senses, Dorityan withdrew into the real world. As he bolted through the door, he tripped over the still body of the doorman. Coming back to his feet he looked back momentarily to confirm the poor lad's death.
      Damn he ran down the hall, trying to trace the progress of the raiders. Doors slammed down the hallway. The sharm! Careless for how far into attrition it would take him, Dorityan bolted for the passthrough to the blast doors.
      Laterals extended through his open bracers, Dorityan zlinned the lack of steel between himself and the sharm. Even the secondary doors were still open. "Close the damned doors!" he screamed, trying to prod the guards into some sort of reasonable action beyond merely saving their own lives. None of them listened. With one final burst of speed, Dorityan slammed into the last set. They swung shut before the force of his body. The green Mir banner toppled from its standard.
      Taking up the steel rod, Dorityan let the heavy green and gold cloth slide to the floor. Steel skirled down its length as he deflected a sword blow meant for his heart. The butt end struck home, however, dropping Dorityan's assailant.
      Blinded by fury, Dorityan felled opponent after opponent, heedless of the death surrounding himself. Finally there was only one left standing.
      "I'll kill you if it's the last thing I do." blue eyes glared from behind the noseguard of an old fashioned bone and wood helm. Her arms were bare.
      Shen! Dorityan backpedaled, realizing this was no Sime he faced.
      "Yes, little one." sweet promise teased the need within him, overwhelming the stink of death surrounding him. "I can give you your wildest dreams." the voice purred.
      "NO!" he screamed. Ribs cracked beneath Dorityan's wild blow. Pain sheeted through the ambient, firing his desperate desire for transfer. "I WILL not!" he pulled his tentacles back, locking his laterals to his arms with his own bracers.
      Falling on the Gen's still form, Dorityan forced himself to pull his strike. There was another shock of pain, then the Gen was still between his knees. Panting, Dorityan felt the sticky wetness of blood seep through his woolen pants. The smells finally reached his awareness, and his stomach clenched, despite his not having eaten for the past two days.
      Struggling with himself, Dorityan didn't hear or see the rest of the guard contingent arrive. All he knew was the warm life he held beneath his own hands. Hissing, he leaped back, trying to get away from the temptation.
      "Easy, Dori." Lord Fatima caught him. One of the other guards lunged for the unconscious Gen. With a snap, she stopped dead, frozen in place.
      "Don't do that." Sharm Lord Arkay's deep voice rumbled.
      The guard shook her head and backed away from the carnage. "Everyone out of here." Dorityan straightened out of Lord Fatima's arms. "This is no place for renSimes." except the dead he noted the fallen guards sadly. The raiders had managed to down over five of Fatima's best guards here, and heaven only knew how many more they had taken on the way in.
      Slowly, Dorityan looked around, noting all the raiders had been Gen. They didn't stand a chance Dorityan snorted, setting aside the standard he had been using as a makeshift quarterstaff. "I am sorry if I damaged it beyond repair." he wiped his hands on his pants again. They were still sticky, and Dorityan did not want to look and see with what.
      "I think the one I took was the leader. She should still be alive." his voice quavered despite all Dorityan could do to still it. "At least I tried not to murder her."
      "She'll come around as soon as I let her, Dorityan." Sharm Lord Arkay's voice held the deepest respect Dorityan had ever heard and he dared look the man full in the face. "You are to be commended for your quick thinking and extraordinary control. Thank you, renSime Dorityan." the manner of address made him flinch involuntarily. It was as if this were something only lords could deal with.
      "Most renSimes don't have your experience, Dorityan." Sharm Lord Arkay told him. A shiver ran up Dorityan's spine at the memory of the last time he had met Sharm Lord Fatima's eyes and he turned away. Without the even slight support of the contact between them, Dorityan's knees buckled.
      "I'm sorry." his voice cracked. "My Lords." he couldn't seem to rise again. His body felt as numb as if he had slept in a snow bank all night, yet he was not shivering. It was as if ice had taken the place of his blood.
      "Damn. His body is shutting down with shock." Sharm Lord Arkay's voice came from far farther away than Dorityan remembered him standing. "I can't do it, Nashen."
      "I can." the wonderful tenor of his liege responded. "But I would rather it were Galina."
      "No, NO!" Dorityan shouted, trying to scurry away. "Not her."
      "Then would you have me?" the question was so out of place Dorityan could only gape. Of course he would take the best Lord the in the Demense. "We are not so formal at Fatima as to assume you would wish to have transfer with the head of the Demense."
      "I do." he managed to look into his Lord's silver eyes. They held a welcome even Galina couldn't match. With a gentle cry of homecoming, Dorityan reached for Lord Fatima's hands. This is my home he thought as his laterals seated. With the brightest flash of selyn Dorityan had ever zlinned, life filled the darkness of need within him, as fast and as hot as he could have ever imagined.
      As sweet as the finest of apples and honey, Lord Fatima's lips softened beneath his own in a gentle kiss. There was no lust behind it, but merely homecoming and welcome.

CHAPTER 5

      Being post and having escaped the gentle hands of Lady Death yet again, was making Dorityan's body more than slightly unruly. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on how horrible his surroundings were. It was not working with Lord Fatima's so very alive hands stroking his arms. Normally Dorityan had absolutely no interest in other males, but at the moment his hormones were screaming for any possible escape.
      "I do not wish to give offense, my Lord, but I am quite afraid I will do so if you continue as you are." his voice sounded strangled even to his own ears. The fact this was the person he had just accepted transfer from was some help, but not as much as he would have wished.
      "Do you wish to return to your rooms, Dori?" Lord Fatima stepped back slowly.
      "No" he shook his head. "I'll be all right in a few. I would wish to help out as much here as I possibly can."
      "Then tell us what happened." Sharm Lord Arkay seemed to understand the trap Dorityan was held in.
      Concentrating firmly on the events of the evening, Dorityan told them everything he had seen. From the Azov messenger arriving on the exhausted Trakh gelding to his near kill of the raider's leader. "I refused to kill her."
      "And you did right. It would not have been successful." the Sharm Lord's deep voice held an edge of bitterness. "She would have killed you if she could have convinced you to make contact with your laterals. I'm surprised she didn't try to tempt you.
      "She did." Dorityan shivered at the memory of how very sweet her field had been.
      "I am truly impressed, Dorityan." his ice blue eyes held an edge of amusement, overlain with a great sorrow. "She could not have refrained from killing any more than I could."
      "Oh" Dorityan stepped back towards Lord Fatima. "Well, I don't think I would have even thought to try to touch you, my Lord." he bowed his head respectfully.
      "There are times when that does get tiresome, Dorityan." he stepped forward, towering over Dorityan, although Dorityan knew he was not a short man. Between the two Lords Fatima he felt decidedly undertall. Before he could move away, Sharm Lord Arkay's hand landed on his shoulder. A wash of cool, living fog wrapped around him for an instant and Dorityan moaned at the sensuous pleasure of the contact.
      "I don't think I would be refusing such a thing if it were offered again." he gasped as the sensation receded. "You do feel wonderful."
      "I would agree with you." Lord Fatima chuckled. "Lets get this all cleaned up, shall we? Please go ask for sharm lords Galin, Hamir and Torev, if you would, Chief Dorityan."
      "At your will, my Lord Fatima."

      Galina couldn't bring herself to leave. He'll be back. she promised herself. "Why did I back away?" she told the pillow she had hugged to her chest. Finally when she couldn't stand the waiting anymore and the visions of Dorityan hurt, lost or simply overwhelmed with need grew too strong, she stood up. After setting the pillow in the chair, as if it were a small child in her care, she stripped off her dressing robe and headed for the closet. The first warning she had of the door being open was a cold draft twining about her legs.
      Turning, she saw Dorityan standing in the doorway. His eyes were wide and dark as he stared at her for a brief moment. For some reason she placed the robe in front of herself. He swallowed heavily and blinked, before turning away. Blushing furiously, "I have to take a shower." he scurried across the room with none of his normal grace.
      An overpowering wave of pure lust spiked through his nager, which from its strength and his reaction, clearly indicated he was as post as Galina had ever zlinned. "Who was it?" she snapped, jumping between him and the door to the bathroom, dropping her robe in her haste.
      "Some raiders breached the defenses." his voice shook. Now she could smell the stomach turning stench of old blood and saw the stains on his breeches.
      "Are you all right?" her throat tightened in fear he had been harmed, making her squeak like a little girl.
      "I'm fine." he gasped, backing away from her. "Fine."
      "Then why are you so upset?" she stepped forward, wanting to touch him to be sure. As she reached for him, he skittered backwards, holding his hands in front of him.
      "I'm not." his voice cracked. His tentacles twined with his fingers hard enough to whiten them. "I'm fine."
      The total absence of his normal silver tongue scared Galina. "Hold still." she tried to grab his face so she could look into his eyes. As she touched his jaw, his skin burned under her hand and she drew away, startled.
      "I have to get in there." he bolted too quickly for her to catch him again.
      "No you don't." she tore after him before he could close the door. "You were injured."
      "I wasn't." he backed away towards the deep sunken tub. "I'm fine."
      "Not if you keep saying that." she stomped her foot in annoyance. "You normally use at least twenty words to say good morning."
      His eyes flickered up towards her face. She could see the sweat beading on his brow. "I'm fine." he backed up until his heels pressed against the black and silver marble tiles of the bath. "Let me get a shower and I'll tell you what happened."
      This sounded slightly more like the Dorityan she knew, but still she could zlin the darkness of pain edge his nager. "You are hurt." she could almost feel the ache in her own body. "Let me help you." she stepped forward again.
      With a resounding crash, Dorityan fell backwards. Only his speed as a renSime saved him from a nasty crack on the head, although it seemed his behind was nowhere near as lucky. "Now I know you've hurt yourself." she glared at him for all this silliness. "What in shen is wrong with you?" she snarled then covered her mouth with her hand. Embarrassed at the way the horrid oath had slipped out, she turned away momentarily.
      There was a scrabble in the bathtub and by the time she turned around again he was standing, looking aghast.
      "I'm sorry." she ducked her head. "I've always had a foul mouth when I wasn't careful." she blushed furiously. He looked so ridiculous standing in the tub, fully clothed with his hands held in front of himself again, she giggled at the sight.
      Now he really looked offended. "What are you laughing at? And why don't you put on some clothes?"
      This was too much. Galina laughed. "I was going to ask you why don't you take off yours? They look rather uncomfortable." She finally figured out why his hands were in such an awkward position and grinned even more broadly. No wonder he lost his glib tongue.
      His jaw dropped and he stared at her in blank incomprehension. Although it was absolutely impossible to tell if his pupils were dilated properly. With a wave she upped the lights. They pinned and then dilated to their widest expanse. Black eyed, he simply licked his lips. Dorityan's appreciation of her body was obvious to even a rock at this point. Not that hers was any less extreme, simply less noticeable.
      Casually she slipped a towel off the rail and wrapped it around her body.
      "Thank you." he breathed. "I do appreciate it. Now may I take a shower?" his eyebrow arched.
      "You don't have to ask me permission. Although as it seems you might well have taken a blow to the head I am afraid I'll have to keep an eye on you." she smiled wickedly.
      "No." he pointed towards the door. "Out."
      The regression to monosyllables tickled Galina into another laugh. She let the towel slip a few cents, watching his eyes follow the black cotton cloth with avid interest. Dorityan scowled. "We are not hand fasted and I am not going to take advantage of your state. Now get out of here!" he barked.
      "Then what were you planning on earlier, Dori?" the towel slid another centimeter lower.
      "I simply wished for a kiss, my lady." he stepped out of the tub with as much hauteur as a sixty year old sharm lord. "That was all."
      "Are you sure?" she purred, allowing her scant garment to reveal the edge of one aureole.
      "Cover yourself, Galina." he snapped, turning around.
      "We've been sleeping together for over three weeks, Dori." she pulled it up anyway.
      "Neither of us were post." he slipped his bracers off and hung them on a hook beside the cabinet on the wall. "Now we both are." Dorityan struggled with his boots, biting off more than a few unintelligible curses.
      "Let me help with those." she knelt in front of him. The wayward towel decided gravity was its best friend at that particular moment. It pooled about her feet as she leaned forward to grasp Dorityan's heel. Shrugging, she simply tried to pull the footwear loose. It was like trying to undress a statue. "If you wouldn't mind helping." she groused.
      What he said sounded vaguely affirmative, although what language it was in was anyone's best guess. From the vulgarity of it, it sounded like English. Or at least she assumed it was affirmative, as now Dorityan at least didn't resist the removal of his boots.
      In the process, Galina realized she had gotten a rather vile combination of boot polish and dried blood on her hands. "Yuck." she scraped them together, only succeeding in spreading it around. A stray lock of hair tickled her nose, and before she could stop herself, she brushed it away. The acrid smell of polish and the sickly sweet smell of dead animal assaulted her nose before she realized she had only managed to get the stuff on her face.
      "Yer but makin' it werse." he drawled, the first signs of his normal amusement at the world returning. "I'm but thinkin' I'm gonna' be havin' te be cleanin' them afore I go te duty temorrow."
      "You are not coming to bed like you are, either, Dorityan." she snarled, frustrated that now he was amused.
      "I'll be sleepin' on the lounge, m'lass." his dark eyes were soft with respect. This was not what Galina wanted.
      "No you won't." she waved her dirty, smelly finger in his face. "Did yer nurse be techin' ye to not be good te a lady?"
      Dorityan blinked, startled speechless. "Certainly not, my raven winged beauty." he slipped into High Simelan as if he were born to it. "If it is truly your desire to have such an elderly and worn specimen as myself to rest beside you, far be it from myself to deny you the scant pleasures of your wishes."
      "My wish is for you to forgive me for being a silly chit earlier in the evening." she rested her hand on his knee. "I am sorry for being an idiot."
      "I pushed ye too fast." he shook his head. A smile traced his lips, lighting those glorious dark eyes with soft amusement. "I am sorry for trying to get ye te my bed afore the 'fasting, although I had not honestly meant it fer tenight."
      "Then I am even more sorry I pulled away." she slowly crawled up Dorityan's front, and gently kissed him on the lips. For a brief moment, he simply sat there. Then with a deep moan, his lips softened beneath hers. The buttons and decorations of the breast of his tunic were cool and hard against her chest as his arms gathered her in closer.

      "Shower." Dorityan tried to force his arms to release her smooth body. They didn't seem to want to work. Her warm, lithe body molded to his own as she slid into his lap. Without a stitch of clothes on, he couldn't help but think of how very beautifully her fair skin contrasted with the black wool of his uniform.
      "Only if you promise not to sleep on the couch." her fingers worked their way into his tunic. This was totally unfair. Dorityan's skin itched with wanting to be clean.
      "I'll not be takin' yer maidenhead m'lady. No matter how much ye may want it." he was not going to ruin this poor girl with his own depraved desires.
      "Too late, by many years, Dori." she chuckled softly, strangely enough not seeming at all embarrassed about it.
      Stunned, he leaned back. "Who were the backguard who ruined se fine a lass as yerself?" He quivered with anger at anyone having taken advantage of Galina and then leaving her.
      "It wasn't like that at all Dori." she protested. "He was a sweet young man."
      "Then why did he not marry you?" he scowled, now desperately afraid he had stolen her from mate and house.
      "Because we were simply friends." her brows knitted. "We were both far too young to marry. I know renSimes marry far younger and more often than lords, but I don't understand."
      "Ye mean ye didn't wait to find yer love before ye slept with a man?" he felt his whole body shake with the unnaturalness of it all. Of course he knew the nobility had different mores and standards in such things. Acting as personal guard for two generations of Sergei had long since disabused him of the notion of sexual faithfulness among them. But this was Galina, his own love, in his arms speaking so blithely of simply bedding someone for pleasure outside of a committed relationship.
      "No," she stopped. Dorityan could almost hear the words, 'of course not', although she did not say them. He took a deep breath and focused on Galina. She looked so dreadfully confused. Tentatively, he pulled her closer again. When she didn't resist, he rested his chin on her head. For a long while he held her on his lap, trying to sort out his thoughts despite her warm presence in his arms.
      His sigh ruffled her thick, black hair. "Lets take our showers and get everything sorted out. I can't think straight while I am so filthy."
      "At least that way I get to see your body when I am in a state to appreciate it." she completely misinterpreted Dorityan's words.
      "I had meant for us to take separate showers." he couldn't help but watch her hands with avid fascination as they slid his tunic off. When she reached for the lacing on his breeches though, it was too much. He stood up.
      Galina yelped. Before she could hit the cold floor, Dorityan caught her under the arms. This was not a good position for his hands. His thumbs slid down across her soft flesh before he could catch himself. "Hmmmm, feels good." her back arched. Refusing to drop her again, he set Galina firmly on her feet.
      Blushing furiously, he slipped his shirt from the waist of his pants and slid it over his head. When the black wool cleared his face, he looked down to see Galina staring intently at his chest. "Ye had been a mite more shy earlier." he almost wished she were again.
      "I decided it didn't matter what larity you were." her warm hand pressed over his heart. It felt as if she had pressed a brand to his skin, he was so incredibly aware of her touch. Dorityan's breath hissed through his teeth at the pleasure of it.
      "I'm not going to be able to sleep with ye like an unchanged child, tenight, Galina." he warned her one last time.
      "I know." her breath was as warm and sweet as the winds of heaven against his chest as she nestled against him again.

      Dorityan managed one small victory. He did get his shower, alone. Now he waited. The seconds inched by like hours. He prayed for Lord Fatima to call him from the fate in store for him. It wasn't as if he didn't want Galina, far from it. He wanted her like no one else since Tanya. His very body and soul ached for wanting to please her.
      But not like two beasts of the fields! he snarled inside his mind. Only untamed animals rutted at the whims of the seasons and their bodies. With a growl, he threw off the bedclothes and reached for a robe.
      "No, Dori." Galina stood, backlit in the doorway to the bathroom. Steam swirled around her, forming a halo of light and mist. "I would at least see you once." her voice held resignation.
      Slowly, he stood, raising his eyes to hers gradually. Thou art so very beautiful, my love. Fair beyond words of heaven's angels. he wished he were the hands of the mist surrounding her.
      "You are so exquisitely beautiful, Dorityan." she could not see his scars or his age thickened body for her fascination.
      "I would not force you to lie, my love." his hand clenched in the wool of the dressing gown, forcing himself not to cover the evidence of his desires.
      "I would not lie about such a thing." Galina waved the lights up to the faint glow of dawn before sunbreak. "Nor would I have to looking at you." Her eyes were wide and dark in the low light. "But I will not force myself on you with a trick. If you wish to sleep alone, I certainly have no right to force you to do otherwise."
      "I ..." he was going to say he did prefer to sleep alone, and then he saw a single tear spill down her face. "No, come to me, Galina." he held out his arms to her. "Thou art certainly too fair for my poor will to resist your charms 'till morn, yet half a world part us."

CHAPTER 6

      Galina stretched, feeling every muscle and nerve revel in their satiation. The morning sun pooled and trickled over the bedding. Even through her closed eyelids, she could still see Dorityan's exquisite body next to her.
      Rolling over, she reached for him and found nothing!
      It couldn't be. She opened her eyes. The imprint of his weight remained in the thick, soft featherbed. Her heart pounded. As she rose up on her elbow, a thin sheet of parchment drifted towards the floor. It fluttered from side to side, like a boat adrift on the river without a rudder. Hastily she grabbed it as it tried to slither under the bedframe.
      Her thumb smudged the soft charcoal marks. "I could not bear to wake thee, light of my heart. Forgive my hasty exit as the Firebird forgave her unruly suitor. I will ask thy lord for thy hand. Please be willing to consider my suit as I love thee beyond all measure. Dorityan."
      "That arrogant, conniving, heavy handed ..." her curses trailed off into muttering about the impossibility of the man. "How dare he think one night, one night without even the grace to wake with me, gives him the idea I would marry him." she stormed towards the door leading towards the Fatima suite. Never before had she dared to knock on it, but this morning there was no holding her back.
      "Get back in there you idiot renSime!" Lord Fatima's voice was shriller than even her own and Galina stopped in utter astonishment. Blinking, she stood stock still as Dorityan came through the now open door, in mid air. With the grace of a cat, he managed to land on his feet, but still he turned back to the doorway.
      "She's right there, Dorityan." Lord Fatima came through the door, not wearing a great deal besides his long silver hair and a scowl fit to frighten small children. Galina wanted to cheer. Her grin seemed to rub off on Lord Fatima, as he winked at her when Dori turned to her. Dorityan's fiddling around, as he tried not to turn his back on Lord Fatima and still look at Galina was ridiculous. He almost tripped over one of the loose rugs on the hard wood floor, only saving himself from a fall by wild flailing of his arms.
      Arkay snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned against the doorframe. "You didn't even manage to get your tunic buttoned correctly, Dorityan." For a moment, all Galina could do was stare at the absolutely gorgeous Sharm Lord. Dressed, Sharm Lord Arkay was not anywhere near as spectacular, she noted absently. "And you, are drooling, Galina." he winked.
      Dori was trying to unbutton his tunic. When he finally managed the task, he began to rebutton it. This time it was two holes off. Galina snickered. He stuck his tongue out at her. "That was last night, lover." she grinned, thinking of his deftness in said department.
      "Oh Gods." he sat on the floor. "What did I ever do to deserve this?" Dorityan rubbed his temples with his tentacles.
      "Tried to go on duty while you are still in seclusion." Lord Fatima's sense of humor still held its edge. "Now, if you show up before tomorrow morning for duty, I won't be so kind as to return you to Galina with your clothes still on."
      "What?!" he squeaked and then clutched his throat. "I mean, at your will, my Lord."
      "Foolishness, Dorityan." Arkay clucked. "You are in no condition to stand duty. I'm surprised you managed to get your trousers on." his pointed look was embarrassing even to Galina. "Be well and do your best, I'm sure lord Galina will enjoy it." the grin on his face could only be described as a smirk.
      "Ease off, Arkay." Lord Fatima glared at his partner. "Seriously, Dorityan. With you going all the way into hard need before transfer, I don't expect you to be able to think straight right after, or right before, for that much matter, transfer."
      "But ... but ..." Dorityan struggled to his feet. Galina slid under his arm, wrapping hers around his back. He looked down at her, completely befuddled.
      "If I had been thinking straight myself yesterday, I would have sent you away." as he stood with his Sharm Lord the last imbalance in the fields eased. When they were together, Galina noted they meshed perfectly. Dori seemed to notice it as well, and relaxed against her.
      "I would, then, but like to ask for lord Galina's hand in marriage, my Lord Fatima." he kissed the top of her head.
      "Wait one minute, Dori." she protested, sliding out of his embrace. "Don't I have any say in the matter?"
      "Well, I thought, after last night, well, I thought you would of course ..." he sputtered.
      "Of course nothing, Dorityan." she glared up into his dark eyes. "I am my own person renSime Dorityan. Just because we had a wonderful time last night, doesn't give you ownership."
      "I didn't think it did." he straightened up self-consciously. Now smoothly, he rebuttoned his tunic, this time getting it straight. "I thought you loved me."
      "You sound like a bad stage play." she snapped, trying to figure out why now, of all times, he was going on like this. Last night had been bad enough, but now, in front of the Lords Fatima it was intolerable. "Give it all some time."
      "But if you got pregnant, I don't want our child to be born without a father." his face was so red it outshone the morning sun.
      "Dori," Lord Fatima took a deep breath, but looked straight at Galina, "renSimes are not cross fertile with lords." His sharp look was a reminder. Thinking of the horrid images of deformed and still born children Galina had seen when the subject had come up in her schooling, she shivered in atavistic fear. She never wanted to deal with a monster like that. Nodding her head, Galina thanked him silently for the reminder.
      Although when she looked up, she saw Dorityan's teeth bared in fury. His quicksilver field struck out in uncontrollable rage. "You lie, my Lord Fatima." he snarled.
      "No, Dori." he closed his eyes sadly. "I do not." he looked directly into Dorityan's eyes. "Perhaps in the times of the histories, there were cases where a few, very few, healthy offspring were born of such crosses, but no longer."
      "He's telling the truth, Dorityan. I have seen the results of such attempts." she swallowed heavily, trying to drive the images from her mind. "Much as I would love to bear your child, I'm afraid it is not to be."
      "Then I can not wed you, my love." he tried to stalk out the door again.
      "No you don't." she barred it and leaned against it. "You are not walking out on me again." Lord Fatima's snicker didn't help. "Now, take off your clothes."
      "Galina" he yelped. "I can't."
      "Your hands aren't broken." she glared at him. "Do it." This time Sharm Lord Arkay snickered as well. Dori turned to the two in the doorway. Galina grabbed his tunic by the shoulders. "If you don't unbutton this, I'm going to rip it off."
      The speed with which he undid the buttons again and unlaced his tunic was incredible. Soon she had him as bare as the rest of the people in the room. "Now, you aren't going anywhere but back to bed." His blushes reached from his nape to his heels as he took to them and dove into the bed.
      Surprisingly enough, Lord Fatima could whistle and did so as he retrieved Dorityan's clothes from the floor. "I'll keep these until this evening, lord Galina." and while the tune was not familiar, from Sharm Lord Arkay's grin it was probably rather bawdy.
      "Good idea." she curtseyed to the two Lords Fatima. "Now I think Dorityan and I have a few things to discuss."
      "But that is my last clean uniform." Dori protested from under the blankets.
      "That was my intent." she slid under the coverlet with him.
      "But we aren't married." his voice was muffled.
      "So" she stroked his hip. "Hasn't stopped us yet, despite your attempts otherwise." The door clicked shut behind the Lords Fatima. "You can stop hiding now, although neither Lord nor Sharm Lord Fatima give a damn about clothes." her frustration with this foolishness had only been exacerbated by Lord Fatima's reminder. "Both of them were wearing little more than their hair."
      "In their cases it is certainly enough to cover them properly." he bundled the sheet up under his chin as he sat up warily.
      "Dorityan." she felt tears choke her. "If you don't stop this nonsense, I'm going to be furious with you."
      "What nonsense?" he covered her up as well.
      "There is no one else here but you and I, and you still try to cover me up." she yanked the blankets onto the floor. "Is there something wrong with my body?"
      "It is arousing." he stuck his nose in the air, refusing to look in her direction.
      "What a look." she grumbled. "You act and sound as if there were something wrong with being aroused at the sight of me."
      "It's shameful." he covered his face with his hands.
      "Look at me Dori." she pleaded. "I know my face is not beautiful, nor my voice or my words, but at least my body is young and healthy."

      Dorityan forgot all about his discomfiture. "Oh, love. I'm sorry if my fretting led ye te believe ye were less than exquisite in my eyes." he took her slender body in his arms. He knew it was wrong, his upbringing and his past could let him think no other, but her form and soul were such he could not help himself. "If ye do not feel I am an imposition or a ravisher of yer innocence, I shall simply have te still my trepidations." there were times when he could not help but slur some of his words and it irritated him beyond all measure.
      Her cheerful laugh did not help any. "Oh, Dori. I love the way you speak when you're not trying to impress anyone."
      "I would impress you if anyone, though my slender graces would allow such a thing." he shifted back to High Simelan to remove the annoying burr from his tongue.
      "You know I can't understand half of what you say, when you talk to me like that." her eyes were bright with laughter. "Not that I am complaining, mind you. I find it far sweeter than the finest mead." Galina's tongue and field wrapped around the rhythmic cadences with a delicacy to make Dorityan gasp. "Not very good at it, am I?" her black hair covered her reddened cheeks, tracing them with shadows of blackest night.
      "Thy words art as fair as thy glowing countenance." he teased her gently with his play on glow, as if it were the ruddy embers of a dying fire.
      "Ye be flatterin' me, luv o'me light." her renGen drawl rang with the beauty of the maidens locked behind the steel doors of the sharm as her glance and her nager wrapped him the warmest mist imaginable. He drank both in, eyes and laterals questing for her very spirit. "I be thinkin' ye be likin' such words from meself." the lilting song teased the threads of desire into a blanket surrounding them with ruby light. Speechless, Dorityan simply caressed her joyous face. Her fine, white skin glowed with health and life. "Kiss me ye fool, I would have yer hand and heart as mine te hold 'till winter's warmth thaws the steppes and summer's chill frees the Ice Maiden from her doom."
      He groaned, crushing her against him, kissing her soft lips till no force on earth could part them again. "I love you, my Galina." he looked into her dark eyes, praying she would not reject him again. Her harsh words refusing his suit had stung like a lance to his heart.
      "Then, pray do, my beloved Dorityan." she begged of him. Torn, his hand shook. "Don't refuse me, please." the echo of his own thoughts ripped through him like lightning.
      "I can not refuse thee, my love. I would but fuse thee and me to become one whole." he tried to put his fears and his desires into mere words, no matter how faint an echo they could only be of his true feelings.
      "As our love be true, what need have we of simple words to bind us?" her light held no shadows but the purest light of the noonday sun.
      "Ye win, my love." he smiled, knowing when he had been beaten. "And what shall be my forfeit?"
      "Warm me and hold me, as the stallion does his mare." her hand traced through the thick, greying hair upon his chest.
      "This stallion be far past his prime." he regretted the difference in their ages with a viper's sting at the reminder.
      "Not my beautiful burgundy one." her hand slid down and around his thickened waist. "His age is as that of the fruit of the vine, not the water of the spring."
      "Ye've been readin' my books." he chuckled softly, recognizing the reference.
      "So I have." she grinned. "Want to know what else I've been reading?" and she proceeded to show him in exacting detail what she had learned from no book but simply her own joy and love of life.

      Dorityan knew he had a silly grin on his face, but seemed entirely unable to do anything about it. Lord Fatima laughed out loud the moment he presented himself for duty and he quickly checked his dressing. There was nothing amiss.
      "Sharm Lord Arkay will be joining us today as we trace the origin of the messenger. I'm afraid he died yesterday, without recovering enough of a mind for Arkay to be able to sift through it without possibly injuring the man further." he grimaced, mood shifting even faster than Dorityan was used to from the man.
      "I didn't want to harm him for fear he truly was of Azov." Sharm Lord Arkay's sleeves were so long they reached the tips of his fingers. "We will be going outside, and I have no desire to be stared at." he looked at Dorityan cautiously. Then he slid one of them back and Dorityan was reminded of the reason for the Sharm Lord's reticence.
      "You have nothing to fear from me in that regard." Dorityan held out his own hands, showing the many scars he himself carried.
      "I know Dorityan. I've seen your back." his ice blue eyes showed respect and understanding. "But there are those who would turn away from such as you and I." Even Sharm Lord Arkay's normally overwhelming field was quiet and still.
      "Do you wish other attendants?" Dorityan tried to remember who in Fatima he knew and would trust at his back.
      "No, I've seen you fight." Lord Fatima winked. "Among the three of us we could take a small army."
      "Let us hope it doesn't come to that." a shiver crawled up Dorityan's spine.

CHAPTER 7

      Arkay's focused attention was eerily familiar. It's not the way he examined me. Dorityan zlinned the Sharm Lord probably more intently than he really should have.
      "RenSime Dorityan." Sharm Lord Fatima reared back, his field spiraling around him. Overcome by curiosity, Dorityan allowed his laterals out to investigate his hypothesis. The dark storm clouds danced with deadly lightning. Tendrils of electrical fire twined with the sense of a great winged figure arising out of the mist. Its eyes were familiar.
      "You are Sharm Lord Diomid's kin." at his words, the winged figure blazed into light. Unable to zlin, Dorityan shook his head. Why did I do that? he wondered at his foolhardiness in forgetting just who and what Sharm Lord Arkay was. Kneeling in abject apology, "I am so very sorry, my Lord Fatima. I am afraid I forgot myself." Dorityan's heart was in his mirror polished boots. As he looked down he could see the two of them exchange a startled glance. The trick of looking for reflections in his boots was a long standing one for Dorityan.
      "As I am certain your indiscretions was a result of my own favorite flaw, I certainly can't be unforgiving." Sharm Lord Arkay chuckled. "However, I would prefer you to keep your curiosity within bounds when we are in public."
      The correction stung all the worse for the fact it was so kindly given. Never before had Dorityan done such a thing. "It will not happen again, Sharm Lord Arkay Fatima." he vowed.
      "I would appreciate it if you would come and share your insights with us some evening you are free however, Dorityan." Sharm Lord Arkay's stunning offer loosened yet another part of Dorityan's armor to fall away into dust. "It would be good to speak with another of my own age." he smiled wryly.
      "Dorityan is the same age as Karola and myself." One of Lord Fatima's eyebrows arched like a jumping fish at his surprise.
      "Only in years." the proffered hand was as heavy and scarred as his own, although as Dorityan took it, Sharm Lord Arkay's grasp almost swallowed his own dark fingers whole. For the first time in his life, when he was fully healthy, Dorityan touched a Gen of any variety. Even though Dorityan was high field, the overwhelming potential of the second most powerful Sharm Lord in Russia almost washed away Dorityan's mind. He could feel every single bracelet on Sharm Lord Arkay's heavy wrist, threatening Dorityan's very life with their metallic clamor. As Sharm Lord Arkay raised him to his feet, they slid along the Sharm Lord's arm, brushing over the sensitized nerves.
      His breath rasped in his throat as he stood, blinded by the sensations washing over him. Sharm Lord Arkay slowly released his hand. As only their fingertips touched, Dorityan clasped them for a brief instant. Actinic fire ripped through his body and mind. By force of will, Dorityan made his knees support him and looked into Arkay's ice blue eyes. "You are so very wonderful, Sharm Lord Arkay."
      "He's my partner you're flirting with, Dori." Lord Fatima's field came between them, breaking off the final contact. "And you are quite correct."
      Dorityan hadn't meant the words flirtatiously and flushed at the comment. "I meant it quite literally. I would never dream of coming between you two."
      "I know, or I never would have allowed it." Sharm Lord Arkay settled his bracelets down about his wrists again. "Let us be off."

      The clatter of horses' hooves on the cobbles faded to the dull thudding of steel biting into the soft earth of the newly greening spring turf. Sunlight flashed off a hidden stream. The steady movement of their mounts tried to lull Dorityan into a sense of complacency.
      The silence surrounding them grew. There is something wrong Dorityan looked for the raucous mockers who would not be deterred by the party's calm passing. His field must have given his concern away for both Lords Fatima stopped and turned to him. A dark clad figure crashed through the bushes behind them. This time zlinning, he spotted the discrepancy immediately. "Gen" he hissed, kneeing his horse forward.
      Lord Fatima's mare spooked. She backed away from Dorityan, straight for the intruder."Mira, no!" Sharm Lord Arkay barked. The mare bucked, almost unseating her rider. The stranger leaped forward, grasping for Lord Fatima. Lightning crackled through the air. The mare bolted, leaving Lord Fatima behind.
      Now there were three people on top of Lord Fatima. Sharm Lord Arkay backed away, trying to get room to maneuver.
      Heedless of the risk to himself, Dorityan vaulted from his horse's back. With a backhanded swipe, his armored wrist cracked the skull of a filthy, unshaven renSime. Pain shattered the ambient as the creature fell across Lord Fatima. A blond female looked over Dorityan's shoulder, her mouth open in a silent scream. Blood burst out of her mouth, turning black as Dorityan looked at it.
      The unconcious renSime across Lord Fatima was thrown into the bushes. Before he could see it, Lord Fatima had grabbed the remaining person, a Gen this time. "No!" Dorityan shouted, placing his hands over Nashen's bracers. They snapped shut as Nashen's laterals retreated instinctively from the danger. The stink of burning flesh and hair reached Dorityan's nose. His hands burned and clenched against his will on Nashen's bracers.
      The alien drew back his fist. Dorityan stared the Gen in the eyes, trying to will against hope the blow would never land. His hands were trapped. The stranger slumped with a crunch of bones collasing under their own weight.
      "Don't kill that one." Dorityan hissed against the pain of his burns as Sharm Lord Arkay turned his attention to the unconcious renSime. "Try to find out what happened." his vision blurred as he struggled against unconciousness himself. "Scan his mind for clues." blackness took him.

      The ordinary people of Fatima were certainly different. Galina couldn't help but blink in astonishment at the young renGen holding out his hands to her. "Well, if yer gonna be thet way about it." the ink stains stood out in stark contrast to the young man's startlingly fair skin. Most of the Fatima children, as she had found they preferred to be called, were dark haired and eyed.
      "I didn't mean to insult you." she tried to cover for her gaffe.
      "Then why fer did ye come onte me like a hunk o' meat?" he sat on the edge of the desk with a thump.
      "Because I thought you would want to get back to what ever it was you were doing before I interrupted." someone, somewhere had said the Fatima renGens were timid compared to the others. Galina really wished she could find whoever that was and give them a good drubbing. "I am sorry if I am unfamiliar with your customs."
      "Thas all righ'. I fergot as well." he grinned, showing a fine set of brilliantly white teeth. "Come along wit ye, lassie. I'll be showin ye how things be done about our lady Fatima." his voice held a wheedle Galina recognized from many other young men hoping to get under her skirts.
      "Na Domi, don't ye be thinking yer gonna bed the lord." a voice came through the cracked open door. Galina gasped as she realized she had forgotten to close it behind them. "Na then lassie, Domi there tries this wit ever' new un. I made sure te door was opened jest a mite to ketch an ear on ye. Yer jest his latest try affer his girl done kicked him up te stairs fer fun."
      After unmangling that last sentence, Galina chuckled at the image of someone playing cat and mouse with an ex-lover on the sharm stairs, of which there were always many. "I'll keep it in mind, Lissen." she eyed the now furiously blushing young Domi. "Your name isn't Fatima." she slid around the desk, her skirts swishing in hushed echoes of her internal laughter.
      "Nah, me nurse at Maryam done traded me off as a 'maker." only his nager let Galina in on the last word as an elision of 'troublemaker'.
      "They done do that te all the Faithful, Domi. Don't be gevin' her none o' yer 'talk." Lissen chided, leaning against the doorframe. "Ye be good fer the lord, an mebbe she'll be comin' back more'n oncet or twice."
      "I'll be gevin her a likkin te be comin' back." he grinned wickedly. There was absolutely no hidden fear in his nager. Only a sharp, almost painful desire to give up his selyn. None of the renGens Galina had ever zlinned before were like this. With a heavy lidded smile, Domi slithered up to her like a giant cat. Galina almost stepped away from him. Not eve