Forever One Page 6

  As the last warrior had filed past, Sean strode out and slashed his hand with his knife. His blood joined the warriors’ tribute. He glared first at Vadyn then at the warriors. The Kasar shuffled and continued their low snarls. Vadyn stiffened. He couldn’t help it, but, again Cayla misinterpreted his actions and interrupted his swirling thoughts.

  “Please, Vadyn, not now!” Her angry plea brushed his tormented mind, effectively distracting him. For a moment he fought anger before he signaled with a quick hand thrust for quiet among his restless lieutenants. True, Sean was not a warrior like his father, but he could have been, if he would have accepted Kasar training. Only a few of the soldiers continued complaining before a hard glance shut them up. By warrior tradition, Sean’s blood offering was not considered an honor, but if their leader decided to ignore the deliberate transgression, so would they.

  Cayla’s grief throbbed in his head, continuing the ache that had begun after their disastrous joining. He knew he needed to lead the service, but his unbidden and natural desire to comfort his mate came first. She wouldn’t welcome it though. Well, he longed for any distraction; any would do. He’d rather be doing anything than bidding his friends farewell. Through blurred sight, he gazed at the single covered mound. Tears, a human gift from his blending first with Elizabeth and now Cayla, would be seen as a weakness in the eyes of the Kasar. The el’kota must be strong. Resolve straightened his spine. He snapped his shoulders back and stepped forward in regal composure to continue the proceedings.

  The lids of his hooded eyes closed to mid-point, protecting his gaze from the gritty sand blown by the shifting desert winds, but even with this protection, his vision remained hazy. The gathering breezes swirled the groups’ sullen drab robes. The conflicting winds also sheared through the windows in the tower, blowing out cold, mournful whispers. Ghost cries. He tightened his fists. Despite the roaring grief that he held inside, his growl rolled full and rich over the crowd. “We are gathered here today to help our friends, Quanta and Sabre, begin their journey into the great unknown.” Avoiding the use of their human Christian names, he forced his people to remember his friends as they had been here among them—as one of their own. His voice rose, carried on the winds across the plains. All who assembled heard his words. The high-pitched keening continued among the aged brown females. They chanted the farewell song that would remain until the service concluded even if it took all night. The browns had lived long, delivered life, and had seen much sorrow. They were experts in funeral farewells. Death was a familiar part of life on Kasara.

  Over the centuries, wars, between clans and with outsiders, had taken many lives. Friends, lovers, mates, offspring, and family members were lost, leaving sad memories behind for many funeral ballads. The grieving vibration of the shrill female voices drew the neck hair straight up on every Kasar. At his side, Cayla gave a violent shudder before she leaned further away from him. Obviously, she wanted to be alone with her grief. He let her; he had enough to do dealing with his own.

  “Any who wish to come forward and begin their farewell may do so now.” He stepped back quickly before he lost his composure. A short scuffle announced the approach of the first speaker, Quillian, the white. The honored First Elder of the Council stepped into the flickering torchlight. Dancing shadows brightened the darkness and cocooned the crowd as if inside a great hall.

  Ragged and reedy, Quillian’s diplomatic voice still carried over the masses. “When Quanta and Sabre first arrived here, I was not glad to see them. Shocked and amazed was I to see the el’kota linked to ones such as they.”

  Soft whispering rose as each remembered their first meeting with the couple.

  Vadyn let his mind drift while the aged statesman’s voice droned on. Memories taunted him with bittersweet images. Their trip from Earth had taken eight months by star-flight. Elizabeth’s pregnancy prevented the use of the ship’s dangerous but faster hyper-drive. Eight long months in which the three of them had adjusted to their strange bonding. Thinking back, he realized that Logan had endured the worst of it, for Vadyn had mentally shared his mate with him. Through the mind-link, he knew and felt every intimate experience, past and present, between Logan and Elizabeth from their private memories. The journey had not been easy. At first, the link had threatened to destroy Elizabeth and Logan’s marriage on Earth. Then, at the last moment, Logan had decided it was better to share Elizabeth, mind-linked with Vadyn, than to live a lifetime without her. Such love! Vadyn felt humbled by the man who grew to be like a sibling in his heart.

  During the following months, Logan’s love grew, too, grew to even grudgingly include Vadyn. And Logan had learned to be more like a Kasar warrior even before they arrived on the planet. Vadyn’s heart swelled with pride at his memories. Because of the close confinement onboard ship, the males worked off their aggressions while keeping their bodies toned in the ship’s training arena. Those first sessions, filled with resentment and anger, loosened restrictions until all feelings lay exposed. Raw hurt mingled with sweaty resolve until both males collapsed in exhausted heaps. Neither ever conquered the other. Logan never knew that Vadyn held himself back. A firm love and respect grew between them that now even death could not separate.

  Suddenly the internal sobs threatened his control. How would he survive without Logan’s wise council? Over the years, they had grown closer than brothers. The two had even sought out each other’s company when Elizabeth’s pregnancy mood swings threatened their peace. And Vadyn, so closely connected, experienced her every emotion. He felt the love, the tenderness, and even the desire she felt for Logan.

  Gripping pain bowed him over. Such aching loss swept through him—never to share Logan’s warm presence at his side again, fighting shoulder to shoulder—never to feel the shared passion when the two humans loved in abandonment. He lost his breath. His rigid control threatened failure.

  Steady, warlord. Cayla’s timely warning and her sudden strong grip on his arm brought him back to reality, to the funeral service. He straightened, glanced at her, and winced at the familiar blue of her tear-filled eyes—her father’s eyes. Her gaze widened at his shared thoughts. Horror reflected in her glance, and she dropped her hand. She didn’t want this connection between them. All she felt was the invasion of her privacy. Please, Vadyn, don’t—don’t make this any harder for me than it is.

  Stunned, he stepped away and focused on the ceremony, unable to speak to her even in gratitude for her concern. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. His memories must have pained her, too. Despite her aversion to the mind-link, they shared the throbbing grief as no one else could. And, it was too bad that she didn’t want to include him. Their connection was made unto death. Somehow he would fix this—the doubts she had. He was the el’kota of Kasara, capable of anything. Wasn’t he? He vainly searched the darkening skies for assurance—but found none.

  Time had passed swiftly while he had wandered in the past. Just over the horizon, a rising dust storm gathered, hovering. Now, a gentle brown midwife was speaking. Sera spoke of the birth of Sean. Her voice soothing and gentle, Sera spoke of the awe she had felt at the birthing. She told of how the el’kota’s Quanta had been courageous and strong but still courteous and kind to her strange midwife. Sera smiled at her memories and turned to him with her dark eyes shining with laughter. “The el’kota shouted in the pain he shared with his jewel. He had not been so courageous or strong.” Light tittering came from the female section at the idea of a strong warrior overcome by birthing pains. The assembly crowded closer. Even the stoic Sean, wearing a puzzled frown, stared at him. His face felt tight, and he refused to meet anyone’s gaze. From a distance, he heard Sera’s gentle teasing but didn’t comprehend her words. He strengthened his barriers against Cayla and again wandered lost in his memories, all he had left of his friends.

  Sean was born within a few days after their own arrival on Kasara from Earth. His birth and Vadyn’s strange mind-link to Elizab
eth had caused quite a stir among the Elders. Linking to an alien, a forbidden crime, carried a death sentence, but to be linked to one who was also mated to another was an unspeakable abomination. But to kill one was to kill another—one who was innocent.

  If the Elders punished Vadyn, they would also hurt Elizabeth and her rightful mate, Logan. The concern for the unborn child, even more innocent, finally swayed them. Above all, offspring were sacred to the Kasar, as so few of them had been born in the past decades. All were cherished—even alien ones. The unique circumstances of their bond brought the Elders a long way toward enlightenment with their final decision. Vadyn, warlord of his people, would still rule with the Elders’ consent and blessing. Then, a miracle occurred. By combining warrior strength with human diplomacy and military strategy for the past twenty-five years, Vadyn had become the greatest el’kota in all recorded time. Even the mighty Alliance looked to him for help in planning all their treaties. Bah! Yeah, some great leader he was. He had let his enemies enter and kill his friends, right under his nose. Now, without them, he didn’t know if he even wanted to continue his rule. After all, he wasn’t fit to lead after letting his friends die so brutal a death. Caught in self-recriminations, he welcomed Cayla’s sharp intrusion. Her mind cut through the chaff of his thoughts.

  Do not blame yourself, warlord. There is time for that later. This is their farewell memorial. Remember only the good times now. He straightened without looking down at her. Behind his mind barrier, he hid his admiration. She wouldn’t appreciate knowing that sometimes she acted with more Kasar wisdom than he did. He should be the strong support she needed. She obviously caught the last of his thinking.

  We are strong together. Doubts about their joining might still assail her, but Cayla’s connection eased him. Remember the good times, she said. Ah, yes, there were so many times to remember—painful now but good.

  Unbelievable agony had racked him when Elizabeth had labored to give birth to Sean. All around him, his people bustled about helping Elizabeth while he, the ruler of Kasara, sat in mind-linked pain in an adjacent room. Alone, ostracized by his own people because of the strange bonding, he suffered until Logan’s deep voice cut through his hazy agony. Orders flew.

  Suddenly, Logan knelt at his side. With a strong shoulder under his arm, he raised Vadyn to his feet then he ordered a bed to be placed next to Elizabeth’s. Shocked, the Kasar midwives hesitated in uncertainty. This violated the sanctity of births. Only the female’s mate was allowed to attend outside of the midwives. But Logan had insisted, had shouted Kasar oaths until the gentle females listened. There, kneeling between the two of them, Vadyn and Elizabeth, Logan had clasped each of their hands while the pains grew more intense. Finally, the stubborn Sean made his appearance. Drenched in sweat, Vadyn had unclasped the man’s hand that had held his all night long. He wiped the blood that flowed from the unintended cuts his talons had made in Logan’s flesh. The man had never uttered a word of protest or flinch of pain.

  From that moment on, Logan became the el’kota’s Sabre, the warlord’s sword, always at his side. White scars, healed cuts on Logan’s wrist, became honored marks of connection to the el’kota. None doubted that the human would give his life for the warlord, just as Vadyn would have given his life for Logan and his family. So why hadn’t he? He had been riding like a carefree cub, cavorting with Cayla, oblivious to danger on the day they died. He choked bitterly on his failure and swallowed a snarl. Well, he couldn’t blame Sean for hating him. High-pitched keening reached through his memory fog. At his side, Cayla’s grief flowed in one long drenching wave. She swayed, unable to contain it or to help him now with his.

  To his surprise, the light of dawn was breaking the horizon. The first of Kasara’s twin suns rose; the other glowed just a few moments behind. But their subdued brilliance couldn’t break the dismal storm clouds that still gathered. The funeral farewell had taken all night—passing while he had remained lost in his own retrospection. The Kasar mourners, having spoken, waited for the ending. He glanced at the angry red horizon. The bone-eating sand just waited in hushed anticipation for the storm to unleash its killing fury. He felt Cayla move restlessly against him. She still held that thin shell about her. He dared not penetrate it without offending her. Despite her coldness, he gathered her closer, barely touching her with one arm. She gave a slight head shake and drew back. She couldn’t or wouldn’t speak. The mourning veil beneath her eyes was stained dark by her tears. She held her overwhelming grief in stony silence, but he knew her heart. The new pain of his shared memories tore at her. He reached for her, and whether she liked it or not, he tightened his hand around her cool fingers. This time, she squeezed back and didn’t pull away.

  Over her head, he regarded the slender young man standing stiffly on her other side. Sean’s face remained cold, impassive, but his haunted green eyes were clouded with—confusion? A frown wrinkled his brow as his gaze narrowed on Vadyn. Their gazes connected before his long body stiffened straighter. His lips flattened. Vadyn knew he would not speak a farewell for his parents either.

  It was time to end the ceremony.

  He signaled Cayla with a soft touch to her cheek. As his mate, Kasara’s people expected her to speak. She had to close the proceedings. Finally, after a moment of silent regard, as royal as any queen, her head high, she stepped forward. With pride in her regal grace, he thought she would speak one of the prayers her mother had taught her about the human God. Instead, without a word, she lifted her mother’s slender flute that she had held hidden in the folds of her mourning gown. The same flute Elizabeth had brought from Earth. He remembered it so well. She placed the silver reed under her gossamer veil, licked moisture to her dry lips, then blew over the mouthpiece, giving forth a crystal-clear haunting farewell. For a long time, the stirring notes danced in the expectant air. Finally, only silence greeted the last lingering, mystic trill.

  With his heartbeat filling his ears, Vadyn stepped forward into the reigning silence; the calm before a storm. He drew out the jeweled ceremonial laser and pointed the cold barrel at the fluttering silver-shrouded mound. His friends. Just as they were joined in marriage, they rested together in death. “Into the great unknown, I send their spirits. Quanta and Sabre—my jewel and my sword—my friends. I—we will miss you for all time.” His vision blurred dangerously, his aim wavered, but his fingers refused to tighten on the trigger. This was the end; he would never see them again. Suddenly Cayla’s hand closed gently over his. Cool strength. Together, they fired the shimmering flash that hid the departure of his friends and her parents. He heard the thudding of his heart, echoing with hers. Slowly, the mourners departed. Even their soft shuffling seemed muffled, respectful. No finer farewell ceremony had ever been given. But he stood rooted to the spot in the sand, his arm holding the jeweled laser, finally lowered without Cayla touching him. He had never felt so alone. But his isolation wasn’t all his own.

  Vadyn? He looked down into haunted blue eyes that searched his face. She tightened her grip on his forearm then pulled. Come, let’s go home.

  With that, the fury of the demon-driven sand waited no longer. Stinging sheets of abrasive grit descended on the last mourners, scattering them in blind haste to their protective vehicles. He spared them no thoughts. Work waited at the keep. Somehow the Xeetag had turned traitor to the Alliance and had breached the security net around Kasara. He would uncover the truth of what happened.

  As for the problem of Cayla’s estrangement? Well, just the thought of her had him hardening. Despite what she thought, he would never let her go.

  Chapter 7

  WHILE THE SANDSTORM continued to rage its fury, scouring waves against Vadyn’s stone keep, Cayla paced the confines of her crowded room. Her childhood quarters, filled with the treasures her parents had given her, haunted her with memories, smothered her with grief. How had she gotten so many of them inside these four walls? She knew the answer, though the realiza
tion brought more heaviness to her chest. Love. Her parents’ love showed everywhere she looked.

  They had never hesitated in showing their love for her. Had she given them enough in return? Did they know what a hole their absence left in her life? She knew Vadyn expected her to move her stuff into his quarters, but he could wait. He had issued that command as if he expected her to immediately obey. But, surely, there was time enough for the move. Perhaps there was even a way to sever this relationship, new as it was. A negative roar surged in her mind, and she flinched instinctively. How dare he spy on her all the time.

  Get out! She clenched in tight fisted fury and yelled through their link. Thankfully, he withdrew swiftly. But why did he obey her wishes? After the funeral, he had warned her that he would never give her up. His glare had blazed in his conviction that she was the only thing keeping him tied to sanity. A cold shiver had swept through her at the prospect of Vadyn with his reality shattered, his sanity gone, but it really wasn’t fair that he put such a burden on her. She had enough to deal with. Her parents were truly gone. And Sean’s resentment still ate at her, his hatred a burning guilt that tore at her composure. Did the warlord have to become her responsibility, too?

  A soft knock sounded on her door.

  She slowly opened it with trepidation. But it wasn’t Vadyn. Arrowin, a timid brown, bowed to her. “The el’kota has assigned me as your handmaiden, honored lady. I will help you with your packing.” She raised her head, her liquid dark gaze still reflecting a revered awe. Cayla swallowed her ire. It wasn’t Arrowin’s fault that Vadyn was an insufferable ass. He obviously hadn’t listened when she had told him that she needed time to adjust. Well, she would move when she was good and ready.