CHAPTER FOUR—CALDER FEV’ROSK

We awoke to the light streaming in through the stained-glass window, situated high, near the roofbeams, and casting glittering beams of color over our faces. I saw her smile and stretch her arms up high over her head, turning herself toward me so that she might rest her head on my chest. I cradled her, watched her as she pulled herself from the throes of slumber to join the waking world, and memorized the delicate lines of her face.

She threw the blankets off and sat upright, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as she yawned. “I am hungry,” she announced, and I pretended to object being drawn away from my bed.

The village was a bustle of activity, and I could hear the people going about their day even through the walls of brick and wood and stone. Something warmed me from the inside out, to be here in my home, with my wife. She fetched her golden gown and stepped into it, wiggling until she’d gotten it over her hips, and slipping her arms into the sleeves. She laced up the front of it and proffered a smile. “We need to get you something else to wear,” I said, my eyes sweeping over her from top to bottom.

After I’d dressed, the two of us climbed down from the loft and I stamped out the embers in the fire pit. “Come,” I said to her, unlatching the front door and holding it open for my lady, “we shall go to the market.”

~ * ~

It was not a long journey, to be sure, but we went at a leisurely pace, passing by the houses of my neighbors so that Lore could admire the flowers and greenery that had begun to peek out of the earth with the onset of day. “How strange,” she said, as we weaved our way through the packed dirt path that cut through the grass. “Last night it looked so barren.”

“The plants burrow down into the ground, or close themselves up in their leaves, for the Winternight,” I said. “I have often maintained that this planet was really two world: the day and the night. The day is warm and ripe—an excellent place to live and thrive. But the night…during the night, the air alone can kill you. To say nothing of the beasts that roam it, plucking off whatever creature was foolish enough to be caught out of doors.”

“I do not understand how any sentient beings could evolve here,” she asserted, hooking her arm through mine.

“Well, and they did not,” I said. “Remember, this is not the Qeteshi home planet. That one, legend has it, was utterly destroyed.”

“And do you think that the extinction of your women has something to do with the planet?”

“That I could not say.” We walked quietly for a moment, and I bent my head in contemplation. “But I think it is, yes,” I said. “I can think of nothing else. We were not attacked; the men did not fall ill.”

“This sickness,” she said, “What was it like, for the women?”

“A fever, at first,” I replied, “then intense lower abdominal pain that often resulted in tumors the size of my fist. Many of them stopped eating—they starved to death—as a result of the tumor. Surgical intervention prolonged life but did not save it.” I shook my head. “I wish I knew more.”

“Could it happen to me, do you think?” She asked, a question I am ashamed to admit I had not considered. “If I were to stay here, with you. Do you think it could happen to me?”

I stopped us in our tracks and peered down into her beautiful face, lifting a hand to brush my fingertips across the smooth plane of her cheek. “I do not know,” I said, my voice hovering just above a whisper. “I do not think you will fall ill, but I do not know. None of the Europax have fallen ill. But neither have their unions with my men born any fruit. I do not know if the two are connected—as you can plainly see, there is much I do not know.”

She gave a subtle nod of her head, and we continued on, content to let the frightening prospect of more illness and more death fall to the wayside.

The market was a bustle of activity, and I watched her face as she took it all in, delighting in the cornucopia of colors, smells, and music that the market had to offer. The spire was the fermata’s dot, and the market was the first half circle around it with two lines of stalls and cobble stone pathways between it.

Brightly colored rugs and tapestries were hung all over one of the stalls, while the one next to it was overflowing with pots of beans and spices. Across from that, displays of copper and brassware, and next to that, baskets of fresh fruits and vegetables. Lorelei brushed her fingers over strand after strand of glass beads and shell necklaces, before she turned around at the urging of a shopkeeper in the stall opposite. He offered her a free sample of a dried danse fruit, and she popped it into her mouth, mmming her satisfaction as she thanked him for the food.

“Come,” I said, and drew her further down the line, weaving in and out of the Qeteshi men and Europax women who were in the market to buy, sell, or trade. The air smelled sweetly of incense and spices, and I drew my lady into a stall that sold fabrics and ready-made clothing. There was a black haired Europax woman running the stall, and she was wearing an example of her craftsmanship: Her pants were worn high on the waist and cropped mid-calf; her top had sleeves that came down to her elbow, but ended just below her ribcage; and finally, she wore a beautifully woven length silk draped elaborately around her body, hanging over her left shoulder. The colors were black and gold, and the effect was rather stunning, I thought.

“What do you think?” I asked Lore, as she looked through some of the garments.

“I think they are lovely,” she said, and the Europax smiled.

“Thank you,” the shopkeeper said. “We weave them by hand, my husband and I. May I make a suggestion for you, my lady?”

“By all means,” Lore agreed.

The shopkeeper disappeared at the back of the stall and returned a moment later with a set of folded items in her arms. She placed them on the display table and presented them to Lorelei one by one.

“This is one of my favorite sets,” she said, holding up a cap sleeved top in royal blue with tiny golden flowers, and matching drawstring pants. Then she held the decorative fabric up for Lore to admire: It was royal blue that faded into a rich green with golden flowers embroidered along the edges. It was truly a work of art. “And I believe, my lady, it would quite compliment your coloring.”

“Oh, it’s perfect,” Lore said, rubbing the fabric gently between her thumb and index finger.

“We’ll take it,” I said, smiling. “How much?”

“Please,” she said, and pressed the garment into Lorelei’s arms. “Allow it to be a wedding gift, from my husband and myself to our King and his new Queen.”

~ * ~

We returned to the spire, having purchased not only the clothing, but a box of dried melon, a set of golden bangles, royal blue slippers, and saccharine sweet perfume that Lorelei seemed to enjoy for some reason, and we retreated to our private quarters to bathe, dress, and begin the day as leaders of this village.

It all seemed strangely normal, as though this were a day in a string of days that was our shared life together. We met with the treasurer to go over the costs of freeing the women, and how much Lorelei expected she could reasonably have returned. “Think about it like a loan,” she offered, altogether more optimistic than I thought she had a right to be, “and think about putting interesting on it, say ten percent? That seems fair, does it not?”

The treasurer and I exchanged a set of dubious glances, but perhaps she had more sway with her Echelon cohorts than I was giving her credit for. Then we met with the market director to discuss real estate space, and finally with the director of the mating program, a Europax woman who lived and worked among us but had not, herself, taken a mate. She reported her findings—dismal, to say the very least—and indicated that she had recently sent her status report back to the Echelon and was awaiting further instruction.

“Is there a scenario,” I broached gently, “wherein the program is terminated?”

“We are a long ways away from that,” came her tepid reply, and it was not what I wanted to hear. “First, there will be medical intervention. There is a lot we still can do.”

When she left, Lorelei took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “It is not yet time to worry about the future of your people,” she said, and I nodded.

The day was only just beginning to wane when Waelden indicated that the Quarter Moon coterie had returned to the surface of the planet, and I donned my crown before marching out with of the spire with Lorelei and a smattering of armed guards in tow. We came out of the main entrance of the spire and were greeted by a small collection of Keldeeri, including Garrick Thassian himself. There were four women with him, all of whom were kneeling at his feet. They were naked, save for strings of delicate chain links that they wore around their necks. They all held the same position: their knees were splayed wide, and they sat back on their heels; their fingers were laced together and clasped behind their necks, their elbows winged out to the sides. And their eyes were cast down to the packed dirt beneath them. I glanced at Lorelei, who was red with rage at the sight of them.

“Let them rise,” she shouted, “this instant. I will not have them so humiliated.”

“They are not humiliated, highness,” Garrick asserted, “they are simply well trained.”

“I want them on their feet—Calder, we must get them something to wear.”

Garrick grinned. “You heard your mistress. Rise.” And all four of them did.

“What are your names?” I asked, even as my Lorelei marched right up to them. She approached the first—a young Europax with flaxen hair that hung to her waist—and slid a finger underneath her chin to get her to make eye contact with her.

“Tierney,” she said, and drew the girl into her arms. “This is Tierny Mafaren,” Lore said to me. Tierney said nothing, did not even raise her arms to embrace Lore back, but she did give a barely perceptible nod to indicate that, yes, that was her name.

Lore moved on to the next woman in line, whom she hugged, and who hugged her back. The woman was plump and pretty, with narrow eyes and dark hair. “Sara Yve,” Lore said. “This is Sara Yve.” Sara was clinging to her, not wanting to let her go, and Lore let her hold her for a long stretch of silence. But when she approached the next girl, she furrowed her brow.

“I do not know this woman,” she said, before examining the last girl in the line, “or this one. Where are Teldara Kinesse and Ciara Zehr?” She had fire in her eyes, and she was standing mere inches away from Garrick, who was the same height that she was. But the force of her personality nearly dwarfed him where he stood.

“Unfortunately,” the little man hissed, “we were unable to procure Slaves Kinesse and Zehr. They were sold off at auction and have been sent to their new homes.”

“We had a deal,” I asserted, marching up to stand behind Lore. “We had a deal for four specific slaves, and you have broken your word.”

“Five slaves, actually,” Garrick said, and looked intently at Lore with his reptilian eyes before trailing a finger over her cheek. She jerked her head back. “Let us not forget that your little bride was to be breeding stock on Keldeer.”

“I want my friends back, Thassian.”

“Two out of four really isn’t all that bad, considering.”

“Bullshit—I want my friends back.”

He looked pointedly away from her and up at me. “Will you kindly explain to the little woman that business is business?”

“What can you do,” I asked, “to ascertain the whereabouts of the remaining women—what are their names?”

“Teldara Kinesse and Ciara Zehr,” she said, her hands balled into fists at her side.

“Very little, I’m afraid. But look at the two beauties I brought in their stead.” Garrick snapped his fingers and the other two women scurried to his side. One was a Europax, with short dark hair; the other was of an unrecognizable species, humanoid, with white hair cropped short and tiny ears that came to a point. She was no more than five feet tall, if that, and she was a tiny wisp of a creature. “A Europax and a Pyrtan. Do you have any idea how expensive Pyrtan pussy is? I am doing you a favor.”

Lorelei was glancing desperately between the two strangers before she turned a pair of pleading green eyes on me. She did not know what to do. Neither did I, for that matter. I certainly could not ask my people to spend even more of our limited resources for two extra women, nor did we have any leads to go on to find them.

“Unacceptable,” I finally said, not wanting to let the strange silence go on for any longer. “These women were not a part of our bargain.”

“Pity,” Garrick said, propping one hand up on his hip. “They are a package deal, my liege. It’s an all-or-nothing kind of day.” The scoundrel’s grin looked more like a grimace, impeded as it was by his pronounced mandibles.

“We will take them,” Lore interjected, glancing at me for permission for her sudden show of strength. I sighed and gave a slow shake of my head—if we took these two strangers, her friends were lost. “We will take them.”

“Excellent. I am so pleased that we were able to come to an accord.”

“Waelden is standing by in the Spire to transfer the credits.” I turned around to look at one of the Qeteshi warriors behind me, and I canted my chin to send him off to alert Waelden. Garrick lifted his arm and swiped his fingers across a small screen thereon.

“How does your civilization even use credits?” He asked, sneering as he looked around. “You are all so very…primitive.”

“Our home planet was destroyed,” I said flatly, “this is a settlement. We used to have all the same fancy gadgets that you do, and our credit reserve is an old stockpile from over two centuries ago.”

“Ah,” came his absent response. He didn’t much care about anything except for his money. The air was quiet and tense between us until Garrick dropped his hands to the side and tilted his head back. “I am waiting!” He shouted to the heavens, and I clenched my jaw to keep myself from beating him to a bloody pulp.

The Qeteshi warrior returned to his spot in the formation and gave a sharp nod of his head to indicate that it was done. “The transfer is complete, Thassian,” I said. “Give us the girls.”

Garrick smiled, showing his sharply pointed teeth, and checked the screen on his arm. “Wonderful,” he said, turned the screen off, and administered a dismissive gesture with both hands. Without giving it a second thought, the girls darted forward until they were safely behind the line of warriors. “It has been such a pleasure doing business with you,” he said, a glint in his bulbous, yellow eyes. “Particularly you, my lady.” Lore was impassive, standing as tall as her stature would allow. “You are quite extraordinary. From a slave to a queen to a savior in a matter of days.”

Garrick turned on his heel to head out of the village. “I should like to see what you might accomplish on the arm of someone with more power, or at the very least more technology.” He waggled his fingers in a wave, not turning around to look back. “Some other time, perhaps.” And with that, he and his men were gone.

In that instant, all of the pomp and air went out of Lorelei, and she darted toward the women, staring intently into the faces of the girls she knew. “Are you all right?” She asked. “Are you hurt?”

“We are all right,” Sara Yve said, gripping Tierney Mafaren’s hand.

“Come inside,” Lore said, gesturing to the strangers as well. “We will get you some clothes and something to eat. Come, come.”

My Queen led her people into the Spire, a contingent of Qeteshi guards at their heels, and I was left to bring up the end of the train.