Page 2 of Warrior's Captive
“How much do you recall of what was done to you?” Vykhan asked.
Tai’ri controlled his body’s physiological response. Faint perspiration, a tremble of adrenaline through his limbs as his muscles tensed for battle. Ached for battle. He had to allow himself to berescued.There had been no cleansing fight, no blood. Little honor.
“Wasn’t conscious all the time.” Something had been done.The antiseptic scent of a low tech medical bay assaulted his nostrils as he woke after fumes released into his pen rendered him unconscious.
Ibukay sighed and took a seat on the divan in the center of the room. Her shoulders slumped in an uncharacteristic display of weariness. ABdakhun, youngest daughter of their Province ruler and trained to a level of poise and control at all times. Something troubled her.
Tai’ri approached, crouching in front of her. “What’s wrong,yadoana? Don’t trouble yourself for me.”
He’d protected and obeyed this female since she was a small girl and Vykhan first recruited him. She was as dear to him as any of his blood sisters, though he’d never be familiar with her in a way that would disrespect her rank over him. He couldn’t ignore her, or any female’s, distress. Wasn’t made like that.
She looked up, a sheen glittering in her eyes. Her cropped shoulder length hair was more tousled than usual, something he hadn’t noticed until now, and her face was thinner.
Tai’ri’s brows drew together. He glanced up at Vykhan. “Has she not been eating? Who’s been caring for her?”
Vykhan gave him a look, and Tai’ri subsided.
“It’s not his fault,” she replied hotly. “And you know what a nag he is. We’ve been looking for you for months. We thought you were—” she stopped talking, composed herself and straightened her back. “Tai’ri . . . they took your seed.”
The words made no sense. “What?”
“The times you told us you were unconscious and awoke in a med bay,” Vykhan said, a flash of something akin to pity in his eyes. Not quite pity, because Haeemah's Precepts wouldn't allow it. Not when life was always to be celebrated. If one lived, there was hope. “That must have been when they operated on you. Your genetic material was extracted and used to impregnate at least one human woman. We don’t think more than one. The others have undergone testing as well.”
Tai’ri stilled, staring at him as if he was speaking an Earth language. Or hissing like one of the odd snake warriors. “I don’t understand.”
She reached out and took his hand, gaze soft with compassion. “You are the genetic father of an unborn halfling, Tai’ri. The mother is one of the females who was imprisoned in a pen near yours.”
Vykhan was at his side in a flash. “Breathe.”
Tai’ri didn’t recall bending over, gasping as a powerful clamp seized his insides. Vykhan’s chant slid through his mind like water through open fingers. He caught them, held on as the words settled into his gut.
Incandescent joy. Black, searing grief.
Rage.
The chant crashed through his mind, Vykhan initiating a mental link which he rarely did. Established during training, it enabled theirAdekhanto guide them when mere words and demonstrations would not do. It only worked in proximity.
When Tai’ri returned to himself, he realized he was grasping Vykhan’s hand, crushing it under the strength of his emotions. Vykhan said nothing, ignored what must have been searing pain as bones creaked.
“You have a few choices to make,” Ibukay said from several feet away. She must have moved, or Vykhan must have moved her, when Tai’ri blanked. Her warriors were devoted to her, but each of them was dangerous when not in control. Despite Haeemah’s Precepts of non-violence, they were all trained to kill. Because sometimes death was required to ensure peace and Silence.
“There is only one choice,” Vykhan said.
“Vykhan.” Steel in her tone, a warning.
“Does the female have a choice?” Vykhan asked pointedly.
“Yes, yes she does. She does not have to carry the child to full term.”
Vykhan stood, facing theirBdakhun. “She is already full term. In human gestation she will give birth in four to six weeks.”
Tai’ri straightened, feeling like an old warrior, but squared his shoulders and waited until the feeling of being repeatedly punched in the stomach resided.
“Has she . . . has she asked for an induction?” Technology had all but eradicated the need for such procedures centuries ago. But considering his family’s generation’s long calling, he understood more than most males about such things. “They’re so small at this stage.” So small. His babyyadoanahad barely fit in the palm of his hand, half-formed, perfect limbs as fragile as brittle stems. Eyes that never opened. First tears never shed. A voice never raised in an angry cry.
She had been silent when she slipped into the world, and silent when she slipped away again.
A feral growl rumbled in his chest, but Tai’ri controlled himself immediately. There was no time for old grief. No time for the old, aching guilt. Normally, he had better control than this. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t the first time a mission had cost him. He’d been tortured, beaten, enslaved . . . none of it had touched his heart until now.
