The Kindred Warrior's Captive Bride: A Kindred Tales PLUS Length Novel Page 3

  On the genteel world of Title One, women were forbidden to hold a formal job, so her mother was left with five hungry mouths to feed and no way to feed them.

  As the oldest, Lan’ara did the best she could to help out. She picked burnah berries when they were in season and stayed up late into the night with her mother, both of them doing their finest needlework to sell at the market. They had taken in washing from all over the town and sold fresh-baked gerla-wheat bread—her mother’s specialty—and made jams and jellies to sell when they could afford the sugar syrup to make them.

  But even with all their hard work, Lan’ara and her mother couldn’t make enough between them to feed her four little brothers. They cried at night because their bellies ached with hunger. Lan’ara’s heart ached in turn as she watched her mother turn into a ghost of her former self, working her fingers to the bone to try and make ends meet.

  So when the scout from the Twyleth Tigg Academy saw her at the market, selling the few scanty jars of burnah berry jam they’d managed to eek out of the latest berry crop, Lan’ara didn’t turn away as she most certainly would have done when her father was still alive.

  “You’re a pretty one, my dear,” the man said to her, his sharp gray eyes sliding over her figure and taking in her face. “Those big dark eyes with the golden flecks—most unusual. And you’re ripe enough—nice heavy breasts to make milk enough to feed plenty of babies and good round child-bearing hips—though I can tell you’ve not had enough to eat in many a day.”

  In the past, Lan’ara would have turned up her nose with frosty dignity and left at once—or maybe even slapped the man for his impertinence. How dare he critique her body in such crude terms? And right to her face?

  But now she only listened quietly as the Twyleth scout talked about her most intimate features.

  “That lovely, creamy brown skin of yours,” he went on. “That’s rare, it is. I’ve never seen the like.”

  “My mother’s mother was taken from a planet called Earth,” Lan’ara explained quietly. “Many people there have my same coloring.”

  “But none here do. With such rare beauty I’m surprised you’re not whoring yourself out instead of trying to eek out a living selling jam.” He gave her a sharp look.

  “Oh, no, Sir—I would never!” Lan’ara felt the blood rush to her cheeks at the very thought.

  “I thought not. You have a look of modesty about you. You’re a good girl—a chaste girl. You’ve never had a cock between your thighs, I’ll warrant.”

  Her cheeks got even hotter as she cast down her eyes and gave her head a quick shake. Even speaking of such things was horribly embarrassing. She wished she could slap the man or run away, but she knew she could not.

  Yes,” he went on, nodding as though he was confirming his first opinion. “I think you’ll do nicely.”

  “Do for what, Sir?” Lan’ara asked meekly, though she knew well enough what he was getting at.

  “For a Twyleth Tigg Bride, of course!” the scout exclaimed, frowning. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen any of our scouts roaming around before. We buy girls from your town quite often for they’re known to be both chaste and fertile when the time comes.”

  Lan’ara had known a few, of course. A year or two before, a girl named Ra’chell who had been one of her best friends had been sold by her parents in order to get money to make it through a long, hard winter. Ra’chell had cried and begged to stay but her father had sold her with a stony look on his face, despite her mother’s weeping.

  “We must have money to feed the other children, woman!” he’d shouted when she tugged on his arm and begged him not to sell their daughter. “She’s old enough to be wed so cease your mewling.”

  The scout had led Ra’chell away, tears still streaming down her cheeks, and Lan’ara had never seen her again.

  She had run straight home then, and told her mother all about it, her eyes full of tears as she poured out the tale.

  “Oh, my dear!” Her mother had hugged Lan’ara tight.

  “They sold her!” Lan’ara couldn’t get over it. “Her own parents! Sold her to that man to take away and sell to someone else as their bride!”

  Her mother had understood without being told what Lan’ara was asking. She had tilted Lan’ara’s chin up and looked into her eyes seriously.

  “That will never happen to you, Lanni my sweet,” she said, using the old childhood nickname that Lan’ara had outgrown not that long ago. “I will never sell any of my children. No matter what—this I vow to you.”

  Lan’ara had hugged her tight, feeling warm and protected, feeling safe in the circle of her mother’s arms and the comfort of their well-to-do home. Ra’chell’s parents had been poor—they’d had no choice in the matter. But Lan’ara’s father was the supervisor of the best silk mill in town. Her parents would never have to resort to selling her—she was safe from such a sad fate, she told herself. Safe from being sold.

  But now that fate has come upon me. And I go towards it willingly, Lan’ara thought as she looked at the sharp-eyed scout.

  She felt oddly separated from herself as she asked if he would like to come and speak to her mother. It was as though her mind was floating a few feet above her body, watching as she led the Twyleth Tigg scout to their house, carefully picking her way over the rocks in the road as daintily as any fine lady.

  “A fine enough dwelling,” he remarked when they got there. “I’m surprised you think your parents will be interested in my proposition.”

  “My father. He…died.” The words still stuck in Lan’ara’s throat. It had been over a year ago but she still missed him—her big, happy, laughing father who had been so strong—too strong, she’d always thought, to ever get hurt…to ever die.

  “Ah.” The scout nodded knowingly. “I see. No wonder you were selling jam.”

  “There is little else a female can do to make ends meet,” Lan’ara pointed out. “My mother and I, we do our best, Sir. But I have four little brothers—all too young to work.”

  “Mmm, I see.” He gave her another sharp look. “No wonder you invited me to your home instead of running the other way like most girls when they see me.”

  “My mother won’t want to sell me,” Lan’ara said, still with that strange, detached feeling. “But I’ll go with you willingly if only you’ll give her enough to get by until my brothers are old enough to work and can help make ends meet.”

  He nodded.

  “Well, I think we can manage that. You’re quite a beauty with your buxom curves and long hair. Not to mention, that rare, creamy brown skin tone will be much admired. Yes, you’ll fetch quite a fair price once we give you some training in deportment and how to please a man.”

  Lan’ara nodded meekly though his words turned her stomach.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said. “Let me fetch my mother.”

  Her mother, of course, didn’t want to let her go.

  “Not for any price!” she cried, holding Lan’ara tight to her as Lan’ara’s four little brothers watched with wide eyes from the porch. “My Lanni, I swore I’d never sell you. Never!”

  “Mother, you need the money,” Lan’ara protested. “This gentle-male has promised to give you enough to live on until Jordie and Howie are old enough to earn.”

  “But Lanni…” Her mother’s dark, gold-flecked eyes, so like her own, were filled with tears.

  “There’s no other way. You know it and I know it,” Lan’ara said gently, though inside her heart was breaking. “Please, let me go and take the money. Otherwise we’ll all starve this winter—you know we barely made it through the last and that was back when you still had a bit of savings that Da had put by.”

  She saw the truth register in her mother’s eyes, but there was stubbornness there too. She looked at the scout.

  “What will happen to my daughter, if I let you take her to that fancy academy of yours?” she demanded harshly, keeping her arms wrapped firmly around Lan’ara as she spoke.

  �
�She’ll be trained in all the social graces. Dancing, deportment, light conversation pleasing to a man,” the scout said blandly. “After four years she’ll be displayed at our annual Display of Beauty Ball and bid on by nobles and rich merchants from all over the galaxy. She may end up as a love slave or a concubine but with beauty like hers, it’s possible she could become a second or even a first wife—maybe even to a very important man.”

  “A love slave,” her mother whispered, horror filling her eyes.

  “Or a wife,” Lan’ara said quickly. “Please Mother, it won’t be so bad a life. And I’ll do it gladly as long as I know you and the little ones are safe and well-fed back here at home.”

  “But my Lanni—if you go, I’ll never see you again!”

  “That’s not true,” Lan’ara protested, though she feared very much that it was. “Maybe the man who marries me will be kind. Maybe he’ll let me come back for a visit.”

  She looked to the scout for confirmation of her words and he shrugged diffidently.

  “That’s always a possibility.”

  “See?” Lan’ara tried to make her voice light, though she could feel tears tightening her throat. “It’s not so bad! I’ll go and become a rich man’s wife and you and my little brothers will be safe and well at home. Please, Mother.”

  “Oh, my Lanni…” Her mother hugged her fierce and hard. “You’re truly determined to do this, aren’t you?”

  “I am.” Lan’ara nodded as she hugged her back.

  “I don’t want to let you go.” her mother’s tears were hot on Lan’ara’s cheek. “If there was any other way…”

  “There’s not,” Lan’ara murmured back. “You know there isn’t. Please, Mother.”

  They had signed the papers that very day. A large sum of money was deposited into her mother’s account and Lan’ara went with the scout. But not before her mother hugged her one last time.

  “I love you,” her mother whispered in her ear. “I love you forever my Lanni…my good girl.”

  “I love you forever too,” Lan’ara told her. “And I’ll be back someday soon for a visit—you’ll see.”

  But the visit was not to be. When she had been at the Twyleth Tigg Academy only six months, Lan’ara had been given terrible news. A fire had swept through her hometown, burning many of the houses to the ground. Her old dwelling had been among them and her mother and brothers were gone.

  “You may take comfort in the fact that it was the smoke and not the fire which killed them,” wrote her great aunt, who had taken it upon herself to inform Lan’ara of the tragedy. “For they were found dead in their beds, not a one of them burned a bit, though the top floor of the house was in ashes before the fire brigade could put out the blaze.”

  The same great aunt had offered to let Lan’ara come live with her, “if you can get out of that blasted fancy school,” but she was elderly and set in her ways, and Lan’ara knew she didn’t really want the bother of caring for a younger relation. Besides, she was under contract to the Twyleth Tigg Academy and nothing but her own death could break the oath she had sworn…

  Nothing but being abducted and sold on an alien world to a strange man, that is, she thought now, as she looked up at her new owner. Who was this man, with his wild dark hair and his strange bronze eyes? He was tall—so tall she had to crane her neck to see him—and his body was heavy with muscle.

  Would he want to put her in a pot and make her into stew? Or breed her and force her to bear his child, as the awful three-headed creature who had been bidding on her had declared he wished to do?

  Lan’ara had no idea. She only knew she was now in the strange man’s power and she could only pray he would be kind instead of cruel.

  “Please,” she whispered as she looked up at him. “Please, my Lord—don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything you like, I swear. Only don’t hurt me.”

  Three

  The girl’s words stung Need like a needle-bee. He looked at her, kneeling in the dust before him, her torn gown clutched around her and still not covering her full breasts and bare sex, and felt something twist in his heart.

  She was a rare beauty—he could see that now that the haze of red Rage had cleared from his vision. Her gold-flecked eyes were gorgeous and she had a waterfall of long, curly hair that was black streaked with gold.

  Her creamy brown skin was a rare shade he had only seen once before—when he had taken his mate to the Mother Ship to try and save her. There had been females with this girl’s skin color there, he remembered. They were brides from Earth, the small planet the Kindred there were protecting.

  Maybe it was the memory of trying to save Cleah that made him savage but suddenly he wanted nothing more than to get rid of the girl and never see her again.

  “Get up,” he said roughly. “On your feet. You need to get away from this damned auction block if you want to stay free.”

  “Get…get away?” She looked up at him, clearly not understanding.

  “Yes, get away,” Need said impatiently. “Come on—let’s go.”

  The girl got painfully to her feet—an operation which made her torn gown gape even more. Her creamy breasts and bare sex were plainly visible, drawing a lot of stares from the males in the crowd.

  For some reason, her beauty made him angrier than ever.

  “Here.” Need yanked his own shirt over his head and thrust it at her. “Cover yourself.”

  Instead of putting it on, the girl clutched the garment to her chest. She was still looking up at him with mute terror, not moving.

  “Come on!” Need caught her under one arm and jerked hard to get her going.

  She gave a cry of pain and tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t reproach him or protest the rough treatment. Shame filled him but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

  Relentlessly, he towed her away from the auction block and stage where the slaver was already crying out his next sale. The girl stumbled along behind him, trying to keep pace with his long strides, her bare feet kicking up the dust as they went.

  When they reached the edge of the marketplace, Need dragged her to the side of a building so that they were out of the crowd. Then he dropped her arm as though the touch of her flesh burned him. He took a step back and crossed his arms over his bare chest.

  “Very well,” he told her. “You’re free now. Go.”

  “Wh-what?” She didn’t seem to understand him.

  “I said you’re free.” He made a shooing motion with one hand—a flick of his fingers. “So go. Leave. Get out of here.”

  She shook her head.

  “I don’t understand, my Lord. You just paid…paid forty thousand credits for me.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Need ground his teeth. “You cost me my entire savings, girl.”

  “I did?” Her eyes widened. “But then…don’t you want to keep me? I mean…you bought me.”

  “I’ve taken a vow never to be with a female again,” he said stiffly, though he had no idea why he was telling her such an intimate detail about himself. “They’re nothing but trouble—nothing but heartache.”

  She shook her head, her dark eyes confused.

  “But if you hate females, why would you spend all your savings to buy me, my Lord?”

  Need didn’t really have an answer to that question. He remembered the voice shouting in his ear for him to buy the girl, but even that didn’t account for his willingness to part with such an obscenely large amount of credit to free a female he didn’t know or care for.

  Or want to care for, he thought angrily.

  “I’m Kindred,” he said at last, speaking stiffly, reaching for the only explanation he could find. “My people worship the Goddess—the Mother of All Life. They don’t believe in allowing females to be hurt or mistreated. That’s all.”

  “Your people sound very kind,” the girl said cautiously.

  Need shrugged uncomfortably. He didn’t want to think about the way he had ignored his heritage as long as possible—didn’t want to explai
n that he had turned his back on the Goddess when she turned her back on him. When she had taken Cleah and his son from him.

  “Just go,” he told the girl. “I told you—you’re free now. So go.”

  “But…” She looked around the dusty marketplace. “Go where, my Lord?”

  “Stop calling me that! I’m not your lord and master,” Need said savagely. “I don’t want a slave girl or a concubine or anything like that. I only bought you to set you free. So go.”

  He nearly shouted the last word in her face. The girl flinched back from him, her gold-flecked eyes filling with fear.

  “Yes, my Lord,” she whispered and began moving away from him at a ragged pace.

  Need watched her go, his heart burning in his chest. He couldn’t help noticing how small she looked—how helpless. She shuffled along as though she was in pain—as though every step she took hurt her. Her gown was split in the back too and he could plainly see the firm globes of her buttocks, but that wasn’t what drew his eye. It was the smear of dark blood he could see on her creamy brown inner thigh as she limped along that made him look twice.

  Blood, he thought and at that moment, he saw the two Torgians that had been bidding on her earlier appear as though from out of nowhere.

  “Well now, girlie,” one of them snarled, coming right up to the little female. “And what might you be doing here, all alone?” He licked his three sharp rows of serrated teeth as he spoke, the dark fin that rose from the back of his thick neck growing red with blood-lust.

  “I…please, I don’t want any trouble.” The girl stumbled backwards, her eyes filled with terror. She was still clutching Need’s shirt to her chest, holding it as though it was some kind of shield that might protect her from the Torgian male’s advances.

  “We don’t want trouble either, girlie,” the second Torgian said.

  He moved quickly, getting around behind her so that she was trapped between himself and his friend—cutting off her escape.