Page 12 of Ren: Warlord Brides
“No. Us Mahdfel do not have a good concept of credit or money, I find. I think the complexities of the financials point to a Sangrin agent.”
Ren found the male’s logic short-sighted. Dangerously so. An even mix of Mahdfel and civilians comprised the Sangrin Council. To exonerate half the suspects based on faulty logic was careless. “You have a blind spot. We are trained to maximize resources, and credit is just another resource.”
Oran gazed out the window. “Incorrect. A prudent warrior will maximize the resources on hand, but how often is the cost of furnishing an endless supply of weapons, armor, and vehicles discussed? Food? Fuel? We do not consider this.”
“When I left my father’s clan, I learned the value of things.” Repairing the junkyard ship. Equipment. Tools. Food. Clean water. Everything cost credits. He had never considered the credits in his account until they stopped replenishing themselves. Ren continued, “I am not the only one. Now, among those names you excluded, who is sympathetic?”
“They would not. Such research was dishonorable,” Oran said with bluster.
“Oh,dishonorable. Surely, no warrior has ever behaved dishonorably,” Ren said in a dry tone.
“Yes, you have some experience with that,” Oran replied slowly.
Ren fought to keep his expression neutral while his tail tightened around his leg. Oran did not know what he had done. No one knew. Surely the male spoke of his previous warlord, the one who lied and sent Havik’s mate away, then sent all the perceived inferior mates away. The warlord had corrupted the entire clan. He was glad to have escaped the toxic environment.
“What does Paax hope to accomplish with this? He will turn the Council against him completely. The clans are already divided over him,” Oran said.
Ren knew of the warlord’s rise to power, how he poisoned his brother—Omas, the previous warlord—with a serum that made him unstable and defeated him in combat. Some whispered that Paax poisoned the blade that ended Omas. Others claimed Paax injected himself with a serum to give him additional strength and stamina. How else could a scrawny scientist defeat the fiercest warrior in the clan? Trickery.
Or guile, which Ren preferred. He saw nothing wrong in using one’s wits to triumph over brawn. “It is not my place to question the warlord’s reasons,” he said.
Oran leaned forward, delight sparking in his eyes. “Interesting. That was a lie, but your heart was steady. You are a very practiced liar.”
Ren bit back his natural impulse to quip that if Oran grew up on Rolusdreus, he’d be a good liar, too, but he refused to be distracted by the politician. He said, “It is not unreasonable to want answers. The warlord endangered his crew answering the distress call. A warrior and his mate are dead. A child is orphaned. Does the child not deserve answers?”
“Tell Paax that the Council will handle the matter. His investigation is unnecessary.”
“I expect he will disagree.”
“Stubborn male,” Oran said.
Unsure if the older male referred to Paax or himself, Ren continued. “I find it perplexing that I continue to explain to you that the Council’s action, sanctioned or not, put all clans, every male and their mates, their sons, at risk. Why do you refuse to answer my one question? Who is sympathetic to the research conducted onSRV-P11?”
Oran narrowed his eyes, pinning Ren in place, and he felt a stab of sympathy for Lorran. “A new invasion is coming. Paax’s meddling will divide the Council and our clans. Without a unified fleet, we will fail to repeal the Suhlik. They will be unified. They will not squabble among themselves about sanctioned research.”
“So we throw sand in the eyes of our opponent because they would do the same?” Ren recalled the countless hours he spent under the unforgiving Rolusdreus sun, sparring with males larger and stronger than himself. He had used every advantage at his disposal, including tossing sand at his opponents. They cried foul, but the Suhlik would not fight with honor.
“We are of the same mind. I do believe that we should prepare ourselves, but I will not compromise on principles,” Oran said. “You should consider Wrex, though I do not think the male capable of subterfuge.”
Ren knew. His research uncovered Oran’s unpopular standing in the Council. The male was upright and righteous to the point of being insufferable, at least in the session recordings.
“Are you mated?” Oran asked.
“My mate returned to Earth,” Ren answered. He had been matched. That was easy information to uncover, and he assumed the male had done his research. He felt no need to explain further.
Oran waited, as if Ren would divulge his secrets in the silence. He knew that trick and he could outwait the politician.
“I am resigning my position,” Oran said. “My grandsons, you see. I joined the Council to shape a better world for my sons, but it took all my time. I missed their adolescence, and now they are all mated with sons of their own.”
“Many congratulations. A family is a gift,” Ren replied. “Do you know the male named Caldar?”
Recognition flickered across Oran’s face. He must have realized because he did not try to deny a connection. “A clan-less male. Useful in his way. Has he returned to the system?”
Ren folded his tablet and slipped it into a pocket. “Thank you for your time. Our conversation has been productive.”
“Do not waste too much time appeasing Paax’s sense of righteous indignation. He is not one to enforce moral standards in others.”
“I will share your sentiments,” Ren answered.
