Legend Beyond The Stars Page 19

  Alana yanked her hand out from under his and Tarak experienced an immediate sense of loss. His female tilted her chin and took a deep breath, before saying, “We have been discussing our situation.”

  “We?” Tarak eyed his men who avoided his gaze and tried to look innocent.

  “Not them.” Alana waved a hand in dismissal.

  Tarak grinned at the chagrin on his men’s faces.

  ”Us, of course.” She indicated her circle of silent friends who regarded him with varying degrees of caution. “If, and I say if because it is by no means certain we will be staying here indefinitely. In the event we may be here some time, we believe it will be best for our mental health if we achieved a balanced compromise with our way of life and yours.”

  Barid at his side, gasped. Tarak ignored him and his female’s provocative comment regarding the length of their stay and pondered her words. That they were directly in line with his thoughts was something he no longer wondered at. Keeping these females busy working on maintaining as much normality for themselves as possible would not only keep them out of trouble but give them a goal to work towards.

  Still, it would not do, to agree too quickly with his slave. But if he did agree, he would be rid of this unwanted crowd a lot sooner. Then he and Alana would be alone. He stroked his chin while some very pleasant thoughts drifted through his mind. Alana shifted her weight from one booted foot to the other.

  “What are your thoughts?” Tarak turned towards his warriors. He sighed as they remained silent. “Well, Casis? Wray? The rest of you, surely you have an opinion?”

  Wray cleared his throat and smiled in a fatuous way at Jessamine, who fluttered her lashes in return. “If it makes our female happy, I do not see the harm.”

  Tarak repressed a grin. It was obvious his warriors were no longer capable of thinking with their brains. He could not blame them after so many bleak years. Years spent in battle and war, watching comrades fall and their families waste away. His mouth tightened.

  Let them have their last moments of pleasure. Let them give what they can to these females. It was little enough.

  ”Agreed,” he said curtly. “Do as you will, Alana. As long as it will not cause us anger or distress, you may organise your life here as you wish.”

  “Do you think this is wise, Tarak?” Barid murmured. “Your father …”

  “My father, what?” Tarak swung round to fix a gimlet stare on the older man. “I will not repeat myself again, Barid. These females are under my protection. My orders for all to do with them, are law.”

  “This is most unusual. But your word will be obeyed,” said Barid, his face turning a greyish hue.

  Tarak looked from one to the other absorbing the way his Alana stood as straight as any soldier, her jaw firm with determination, her life energy strong and vibrant. She wore her aura of command with ease, her gaze steady and direct. In sharp contrast, Barid shuffled his feet, eyes wide, his brow furrowed as if both uneasy and unsure where this female fitted into the Darkon’s rigid conventions.

  Within a few sectons of Barid leaving this room, Tarak knew his father would be listening to the older man’s report and wondering over how much influence these females exerted over his warriors, over himself. No matter, for what the future held for him, he would ensure his Alana and the other females would be safe.

  Barid muttered a formal farewell and crossed to the door, where he paused and looked back at Alana once more before finally departing.

  “Who exactly is he, Tarak?” Alana asked after the door closed.

  ”He is a member of the Darkon High Council, an advisor and, I hope, my ally.” Tarak smiled sadly. “Lord Barid was also the father of someone I called a friend a long time ago.”

  He rolled his shoulders to shrug off the memories, took Alana’s hand in his and wandered over to the group of women. “Perhaps you will explain your plans to me. I will need to ascertain who will best be able to assist you once we are gone.”

  Immediately Alana pounced on his words. He clenched his jaw at his carelessness. It had not been his intention to broach this subject until the time to leave was upon him.

  “Gone? Gone where? And when?”

  Tarak waved a casual hand. “A small mission. You do not need to know the details.”

  “Now that’s where you are so wrong!” Alana narrowed her eyes at him. “If this concerns us, then we have the right to know what is going on.”

  “It may come as a surprise to you but not everything in this universe concerns you,” Tarak snapped in defence. The other women now glared at him with suspicion and his men glared at him in reproach.

  By the hem of Cercis’ cloak, this was too much. Was he not the one in charge here?

  He dropped Alana’s hand, crossed his arms across his chest and chin jutting, he glowered back at her.

  “That is not what I meant!” Colour bloomed over her cheeks.

  With interest he watched her take a deep breath which lifted her pert breasts in a way that sent a shaft of need wrenching through his groin.

  She peered up at him through fluttering lashes. “Naturally as our only protectors we would be concerned to be left alone in an alien environment.”

  Tarak laughed uproariously, ignored how everyone gaped at him. His former irritation vanished. He grinned good humouredly at Alana. Tapping her tilted chin, he teased, “Aaaah, so you admit your need of us.”

  “Only in so far as we might need a certain amount of security until we find our feet. It has nothing to do with you personally,” Alana ground out in a gruff voice. She flicked a piece of lint off her sleeve with studied nonchalance.

  He cast a puzzled glance at Alana’s boots then dismissed this comment as irrelevant. He sighed and thumped his chest dramatically. “You wound me deeply.”

  A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “I doubt it. No seriously, Tarak, you do see we need to be kept advised of the situation? None of us feel comfortable here.”

  His amusement fled and he frowned. “Your quarters will be comfortable. You will be free to do and go where you wish within the confines of the city. I have decreed this to be so.”

  “We realise this but what we are talking about is a sixth sense of danger. A feeling which tells us all is not well.” She placed her hand on his arm and searched his face.

  “You need not fear anything here, my Alana. I have given you my word,” he said simply, his gaze upon her firm and steady.

  Alana swallowed the lump in her throat engendered by his earnest expression. She pushed her doubts to the back of her mind. It was obvious the Tarak believed his orders would be upheld but she had not survived several battles by ignoring her sixth sense. There were definite undercurrents here. She swore she could smell the stink of treachery leeching from the cold, stone walls.

  She would keep her eyes and ears open, ensure the other women did the same, while maintaining an appearance of compliance. It was possible the long war and the heavy toll on the survivors was the only thing responsible for the niggling feeling at the back of her neck.

  It was also possible there was something else going on here. Tarak and his men leaving on a mission would be the perfect opportunity to do some investigations. It would also keep her mind off one small problem caused by his absence.

  I will miss him.

  Damnit.

  Alana glared at his back as he strode over to his First Officer, who had entered the room and after casting the women a quick glance, stood ramrod straight waiting near the entrance for his Commander’s attention. She twitched her shoulders to relieve some of her tension and was glad when Elise called out to her. Soon she had the women organised with specific tasks. They were certainly enthusiastic enough and keen to establish some form of normality into their lives. Even for the short term.

  The women, chatting with animated high voices, left the room. Alana gazed with affection after them. The warriors rose as if in one body and hurried after them. Surprised, she noticed how Magar’s gaze followed the wo
men and frowned. Had one of the women captured his attention? He had shown no interest in any of them previously keeping his dealings with them to a strict minimum. She hoped he was not attracted to one who had already been claimed.

  Aaaah! Alana rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at the far wall. Here she was already thinking about ‘claiming’ as if it was acceptable behaviour. She was a free citizen of Earth and would not be sucked into alien beliefs. Too bad if their chief proponent was a man who rocked her world, she would maintain her independence if it was the last thing she did.

  Across the room she met Tarak’s dark eyes and sighed, her heart doing a quick loop-de-loop at the urgent message in them. Yes, oh yes! Her nipples hardened and puckered beneath her flight suit. They ached for his touch. She watched him conclude his conversation with Magar and after nodding in farewell, stroll to her side. At the touch of his fingers as they slid with gentle tenderness along the side of her face and over her hair to rest at the nape of her neck, she tilted her face. She rose on tiptoe to brush her mouth against his lips, all thoughts of Tarak’s second-in-command forgotten.

  It was only later her curiosity returned, as she wriggled closer to Tarak’s warm body and his arm, hard and strong tightened around her waist with reassuring strength. Contentment washed over her like the warm waves of the Pacific Ocean lapping the soft sands of Airlie Beach. She kissed the expanse of skin so handily available. Her fingers tripped over Tarak’s taut muscles which rippled in response to her touch. He stirred and turned to her, his face nuzzling the crook of her neck and his lips lazily trailed a tingle of sensation over her shoulders. Eyes still closed, she quivered and smiled. “Tarak?”

  ”Mmmm?”

  “I was wondering about your First Officer. Do you know whether he likes any of my friends? If so, then there may be trouble as all of them have paired off with Darkon men apart of course for Elise. That would definitely not do. I consider her too young to become involved with such an older and complicated man.”

  “Do not trouble yourself, my Alana. Unthinkable to suggest my friend Magar is too old to find a mate.” Tarak’s snort of mild outrage ruffled her hair causing it to blow across her eyes.

  Alana impatiently flicked it aside and evaded his searching lips. “Perhaps but he is definitely too old for Elise, not that he has shown any interest in her previously. So it has to be one of the others.” She sat up, ignoring Tarak’s sigh. “The last thing both you and I need is a bunch of blokes fighting over a girl.”

  “There will be no fighting.”

  “How can you say that? So now you can see into the future?”

  Irritated, Tarak grabbed her waist, dragging her onto the bed and neatly pinned her as he settled his heavy body over hers.

  “Forget this talk of fighting. I have it all under control. Do not let us spend our last hours together arguing about useless matters.”

  “I do not consider my friends’ well-being to be useless,” Alana hissed as she glared into the face so close to hers. Hurt pierced her heart at the import of his words. So he was leaving her. As all good soldiers knew, the best method of defence was attack. “And what’s all this about our last hours together? You sound as if you don’t intend to return.”

  “You are a warrior. You know there is always risk,” he murmured evasively.

  “What I know is you’re not telling me everything. You don’t intend to come back, do you? You’re going to leave me here? I mean us. All of us. Like all men, you’ve had your fun and now it’s goodbye and hello freedom again.” Alana closed her eyes so he could not see how his words shattered her heart.

  “Look at me Alana.” He smoothed her hair from her forehead, lightly tapped her nose. When she opened her eyes, he continued, “I must do my duty. I will be taking only those who choose to go with me. Our mission is to make contact and enlist the support of renegade Darkon warriors. Together we will launch a final attack on the garrison of Elite Forces. It is unfortunate the headquarters of their leader is unknown to us. I admit our chances of return are not good.”

  “I could go with you. I can fight,” she whispered.

  Panic and admiration twisted his gut. Face impassive, Tarak smiled. “Aaaah, my little warrior. We both know you cannot leave the other women. They will need you when the end comes.”

  Fear stole her breath. “The end?”

  “The Darkon race is doomed. Should we fail in our attack, this last outpost will be overrun by Elite Forces and that rabble. Those not killed by the hostilities will spend the remainder of their days imprisoned, subjected to torture. I dare not think of your fate.” Tarak leaned back on the bed, his jaw clenched so hard a pulse ticked beside his thinned mouth.

  “So this fate is going to be worse than being your slave?” she challenged.

  His eyes were cool and fathomless as they met her ironic gaze. “Yes.”

  This simple response took her breath away. She swallowed.

  “Well, I won’t let it end this way,” Alana vowed fiercely. Whether she was speaking of the women’s fate as prisoners or Tarak’s death in battle, she did not dare to acknowledge to herself. Both were scenarios too awful to contemplate. All she knew was that somehow, she had to find some solutions. And quickly.

  Tarak rose to his feet. “Come. It is time to dress. We are required to be present at my father’s table and it would not be wise to keep him waiting too long.”

  “How long do we have until you leave?”

  “Not long enough, my Alana.” He held out his hand.

  Alana grasped it firmly and tugged hard.

  “Then we had better not waste any more of it, had we?” She grinned at him, her chin tilted in a challenge, Tarak was only too happy to accept.

  * * *

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was close to midnight by Alana’s watch before they left the Royal hall after a long drawn out meal (thankfully containing several meat dishes). A meal she found to be both uncomfortable and interesting. Interesting in her certainty of the intrigue she sensed existed within those cold stone walls. Uncomfortable with the cold glances Lord Rajan had bestowed upon her from time to time.

  A shiver of warning crawled through her mind when she recalled those tense moments. It had been more than irritation at being kept waiting so long.

  Again.

  She grinned in the darkness. On the whole she had been relieved to finally leave although the ordeal had been lightened by an addition to the leader’s table of his brother, Tarak’s uncle, Lord Atolo.

  Another interesting man, mused Alana while she walked with Tarak past the main entrance and clattered down the steps. Atolo obviously prided himself on his appearance. She had not missed how pristine white his tunic had been, the gold braid edging, how his carefully groomed long white hair was tied back from his face with a jewelled clip at the base of his neck. Precious stones sparkled and glinted, dazzling to the eye when he waved his expressive hands whenever he spoke. He appeared to be a pleasant, genial man who displayed an open curiosity and genuine interest in Alana. He also appeared to have the talent of diverting his older brother’s prickly temper, and had smiled at Alana when he channelled the conversation onto more pleasant topics.

  Tarak’s lack of response to his uncle puzzled her. Alana was sure he viewed the older man with a measure of distaste.

  As she walked with Tarak along the wide empty street towards the building where the other women were quartered, she worried over the complexities of the politics of his family. She had gained the distinct impression her presence threatened Lord Rajan. She frowned. Did he think she would somehow sway his son from doing his duty?

  Surely not.

  A soldier herself, she saw only too clearly how limited Tarak’s options were in this war.

  As the only surviving son of a leader of an entire race, his duty and responsibilities could not be taken lightly. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was Tarak’s sense of responsibility to his people.

  He would
not walk away from his duty.

  His father could have no doubts about his son’s loyalty.

  The snarky, sarcastic comments Lord Rajan had thrown at his son every now and then, which Tarak ignored, had startled her. Why was the leader so resentful? Of course, his motivation could be nothing more sinister than bitterness at having lost his wife and other children, perhaps even a favourite son, to the long war.

  Her thoughts swivelled back to Lord Atolo. Could he be the one plotting against his king? Did his pleasant demeanour mask the face of a traitor? Buy why? What could he possibly win by betraying his family? From all accounts, the rest of the universe wanted the entire Darkon people obliterated. By betraying his people, he would be ruler of nothing and no one and no doubt would also lose his life.

  She made a mental note to question Tarak about his reservations towards his uncle.

  It annoyed her that Tarak had apparently accepted the grim future before him. Not that she could blame him.

  She knew only too well, some orders came with a very high price.

  If there was to be a far different outcome not just for Tarak and his people but also for her and her friends, it was going to be up to her to do something about it. She needed more information about the Darkon’s dark history. Perhaps the solution to everyone’s problems lay in the Darkon’s past?

  Could she be jumping at shadows? Perhaps the tension here was only caused by a clash of personalities. And why the hell, was she so concerned? She had enough problems with looking after her band of women, so why heap more onto her overladen plate?

  Alana shied away from the answer.

  Tarak squeezed her hand. The warmth of his touch sent a glow of energy surging through her veins and muddled her thoughts.

  These poor aliens just hadn’t realised what they were letting themselves in for when they had dragged Earth women into this mess they had created.

  She snorted. Typical males.

  And as usual, it was going to be up to the women to clean up after them.

  The most pressing need was to take some time out and relax. As soon as Tarak left, she would forge ahead with her investigations. She would make her plans. There was no way she was going to sit tight here, wait for some ghastly fate to come knocking at her door.