Captured: Warriors of Hir, Book 1 (17 page)

Six
teen

Ke’lar was pacing in the soaring entrance hall when she and Ra’kur arrived and two uniformed g’hir stood at attention outside the dining room. Their uniforms didn’t mean anything to Jenna but by the way Ra’kur glowered they obviously did to him. Ke’lar and Ra’kur exchanged a look and his brother sent a tense glance at the dining hall’s archway.

Ra’kur’s jaw hardened. Jenna had to hurry to keep up with his long strides as he headed that way.

Inside the hall Rotin was seated at the long gleaming wood table with another older man, one dressed smartly in tunic and pants, a fancy-looking sash over his shoulder to cross his chest. There were more uniformed guards here too, standing at attention at the far end of the hall, and it was easy to guess they belonged to his man.

She barely knew her new father-in-law but she could tell right off he wasn’t happy about having this guy here either.

The sashed g’hir man stood and turned as soon as she and Ra’kur entered, and he stared unabashedly at her.

“They told me,” he said, his eyes fixed on her. “They told me, but I did not believe . . .”

“Hello,” she said uneasily when he trailed off. “I’m Jenna.”

The man’s mouth curved into a smile and he reminded her a lot of the guy in Hendersonville who’d sold her that truck right out of college. Pap called it death on wheels and hollered holy hell till they took it back and he issued her a refund. 

“Greetings, Mata, I am—”

“What are you doing here, Mirak?” Ra’kur demanded.

“I have come to welcome your mate to Hir, of course.” He offered Jenna a short bow. “I am, Mirak of the Betari enclosure. I am also a member of the Hir’s ruling council.”

“Do males make a habit of visiting the Matas of rival clans now?” Ra’kur folded his arms. “Things must have changed a great deal in my absence.”

“None of the enclosures can afford to be rivals these days,” Mirak said sharply.  “Our people are a generation from virtual extinction.”

“I know why you are here, Mirak,” Ra’kur snarled.

“He is concerned that I have come to steal you away,” Mirak said to Jenna with a shrug that revealed some bitterness. “But my few guards are no match for an enclosure full of enraged Erah clanbrothers. I am long past my prime and my own mate, Esiri, long dead. I certainly do not come here to lure you away with
my
charms.”

“You have a son,” Ra’kur pointed out. “And many clanbrothers, do you not? And my mate is very beautiful.”

“No offense to you, Mata, but my Esiri was far more so—at least in my eyes.” He cleared his throat. “In any case, no, I have not come to make some foolhardy attempt at stealing your mate. I have come to warn you.”

Ra’kur and Rotin exchanged a glance.

“
You
wish to warn me?” Ra’kur scoffed. “Warn me about what?”

“That while I have no interest in tearing this lovely female from you,” he said with a nod at Jenna, “others do.”

Ra’kur’s gaze narrowed. “I already know this. You have wasted my time—and your own—in coming here to tell me so.”

“Others”—Mirak’s face was grave—“on the ruling council.”

Ra’kur blinked and his fangs flashed. “They have no right!”

Mirak inclined his head a little. “Agreed.”

“Hold on a damned minute!” Jenna broke in. “What the hell are you two talking about?”

Mirak met her gaze. “After what I can imagine was a long and exhaustive search, a son of the Erah clan has returned with a mate from a people not before seen. Not just a compatible mate but a very attractive and plainly intelligent one. Word reached the ruling council of you, Mata, before you left the surgical bay.” Mirak folded his hands in front of him. “My esteemed colleagues have been gathering intelligence on you ever since and, sad but true, many of the hospital staff have cooperated in this fact-finding.”

“Okay,” Jenna gritted out. “They know my blood type. Hurrah for them. What do they want?”

“You. Or more accurately”—Mirak raised his eyebrows—“more like you.”

Jenna felt herself blanch.  “An invasion. You’re talking about going to Earth and taking women by force.”

Mirak gave a nod. “We have allied with other species but since none have been compatible candidates, intermating has never been an issue before. Now it has suddenly become a vital—no, a crucial—problem to be addressed.”

Jenna wet her lips. “But Ra’kur and I can’t—”

“The ruling council has already been apprised that breeding with your kind will not be possible,” Mirak interrupted. “Some are opposed to bringing human females here in any great number even without the chance of offspring. But when it becomes public knowledge that our males have hope of a lifemate of their own . . .” A shadow passed over Mirak’s face. “It did occur to one of the ruling council—whom I will not name now—that human children, along with a large-scale importation of females, might too prove to be a boon to our society.”

“That’s despicable,” she managed. “That’s appalling.”

“I would rather not see it come to that,” Mirak said, straightening. “I would not have the g’hir people descend into the despicable echelon of
slavers
. And so I have come to propose an alliance between my clan and yours, Ra’kur. I will use all of my influence as well as commit the forces of my own clanbrothers to defend your lifemate.”

“How generous,” Ra’kur sneered. “Or it would be if I didn’t already know the price of this  . . . alliance.”

“More like me,” Jenna said bitterly.

“Mates for my clanbrothers,” Mirak agreed. He glanced between Ra’kur and his father. “And yours.” He spread his hands. “We will unite and coordinate our efforts. We will limit the importation of human females to a few hundred and forbid any child from being taken from their world.”

“Why would I share anything with
you
?” Ra’kur demanded. “If I wanted to use that information for gain, to exploit Jenna’s world and gather females from it, why not do it solely for my own enclosure? Why would I ever help yours?”

“As you can see, Mata,” Mirak said with a sigh. “The animosity between our clans is longstanding and deep.” He narrowed his gaze at Ra’kur. “You must know that every human female you bring home increases the chances another clan will raid your lands, smash your enclosure, steal your females. And the answer to your question, Warrior, is that I have a great deal of influence. I can provide you the support and protection that you need if you wish to bring more here. As well as,” he indicated Jenna with a nod of his head, “keep what you already have.”

Ra’kur bared his fangs. “Get out!”

“Consider carefully,” Mirak warned sharply, “before you reject my offer. There are some on the ruling council who have already suggested the information be taken from you—willing or not. Do you think the others will hesitate to take your mate from you as well?”

Ra’kur stepped forward, his hands curled into fists. “I will not ask you again.”

Mirak’s own fangs flashed and the guards at the end of the hall tensed. After a moment he took a step back. “Consider what I have said, son of the Erah—and my offer. I hope your clan chooses wisely.” He met Jenna’s gaze and inclined his head. “Good day, Mata. I look forward our next meeting.”

“That makes one of us,” Jenna said coldly.

He gave a half-smile. “And spirited too. I very much regret you are not mate to my son. You may well be worth the trouble of a clan war.” He glanced at Ra’kur. “And I am not the only one who thinks you so.”

Ke’lar and other Erah clanbrothers formed up behind Mirak and his escort when they stepped into the entrance hall, making it clear that their welcome had just been worn out.

“How could you have let him come here, Father?” Ra’kur demanded.

“What could I have done?” The elder g’hir asked wearily. “He is on the ruling council and stated on his approach he came on official business. The Erah had no reason—or right—to bar him entry to the enclosure.”

“Can they really do this?” Jenna asked tightly. “Take me away from here against my will?”

“No!” Ra’kur growled.

Rotin looked away. “Of course not.”

Her knees were shaking and Jenna sank down into one of the chairs.

“Jenna?” Ra’kur frowned. “Are you all right?”

She swallowed hard and nodded. In truth though, the whole thing made her sick to her stomach.

“You don’t have anything to fear,” he said softly. He cupped her face in his warm, broad palm. “I will never let anyone take you away from me.”

She gave a faint smile. “I know.”  She searched his eyes. “It’s other women I’m worried about now.”

“I will not give Mirak that information,” he promised. “I will not make a pact with him.”

But she could read in his eyes the truth; a confrontation was coming and there was no avoiding it.

But we have today. We have right now and I’ll be damned if I’m going to waste it.

She stood. “Come on, you wanted to show me the orchards, remember?”

Hand in hand they walked into the courtyard and Jenna frowned to see another group of g’hir waiting there. They weren’t wearing uniforms like Mirak’s guards but the transport and its extended ramp bespoke of their recent arrival.

“More uninvited guests?” Jenna asked quietly. “We just got rid of Mirak.”

“Well, I do not know about anyone else”—Si’hala stepped forward from the group of now offended-looking g’hir warriors, and put her well-manicured hand on her hip—“but we
were
invited.”

Seven
teen

Jenna’s face went hot.

Damn it, I keep forgetting how much better they can hear!

“Have we arrived at a bad time?” Si’hala took in Jenna’s riding clothes with raised eyebrows.

“We did signal ahead to request entrance to the enclosure,” Lihr said, frowning. “But if that permission was relayed in error, we can return another day . . .”

“We mean no offense.” Flushing, Ra’kur inclined his head to Si’hala and Lihr. “We bid the Yir clan welcome to the Erah enclosure.”

Si’hala exchanged a look with her mate, Lihr, and from the glances the Yir group was sending her way Jenna knew they were waiting for her to do something here. Jenna wasn’t sure how to handle this like g’hir would but she could show some human hospitality at least.

“I’m glad you’re here too. I’m really happy to see you again, Si’hala.” She offered the Yir group a chagrined smile and spread her hands. “Look, I’ll be honest, I don’t know what a g’hir would do to make you feel welcome but back home I’d suggest y’all come inside so I can fetch you up some sweet iced tea.”

“
Ice
tea?” Si’hala raised her eyebrows. “How does one make tea from
ice
?”

“No, it’s tea,” Jenna assured. “Just cold ’cause
it has lots of ice. And sugar.”

The visitors stared at her with glowing eyes.

“It is a beverage offered to honored guests,” Ra’kur supplied. “As well as one shared by friends. Apparently there is some skill needed in preparing it to the human elders’ satisfaction.”

Lihr inclined his head. “I would like to sample this cold tea, Mata.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t actually intended to serve them iced tea. “Okay, well . . .” Jenna looked at Ra’kur and gave a shrug. “Point me toward the kitchen and I’ll try to figure out how to make some.”

Si’hala stepped forward. “I will go with you, Jenna.”

“To the
kitchen
?” Lihr wondered, his brow creased as he regarded his mate.

“Oh, why not?” she asked brightly, her many jeweled rings sparking in the sunlight as she gave an airy wave. “It might be fun. Perhaps I can be of help.”

From the look on Lihr’s face Jenna could guess that Si’hala’s interests didn’t usually include much in the way of domestic tasks.

“Ra’kur, why don’t you take them into the dining hall?” Jenna suggested with a nod toward the Yir men. “And I’ll try to figure out how to make iced tea in time for lun— uh, midmeal.”

The kitchen was located not far from the main house’s dining hall but it was Jenna’s first time inside it. Considering that it sometimes had to serve thousands of guests the space was huge and seemed to be well staffed.

Their arrival there had the cooks—all male, of course—staring wide-eyed.

Jenna caught the attention of the head chef, Tharin.  She explained what she needed and he regarded her with the interested eyes of a professional eager to learn any new culinary skills.

The Erah kitchen had a number of different teas on hand. The challenge would be to find one most like black tea and, since the g’hir had a number of different sweeteners—but not sugar—she would have to figure out which one would suit best.

The kitchen staff stole curious glances at them as Jenna oversaw the brewing, icing, and sweetening of the available options. In the end Jenna came up with four different brews and chose two sweeteners she thought would work.

Those two were way too tart, but a third, sweetened with something called cali syrup, was pretty close.

Si’hala was delighted to be included in the sampling but took a sip of the fourth option and grimaced. “Well, it is certainly
sweet
!”

“Back home it gets real hot in summer.” Actually Jenna thought this one the closest of the four. “It’s gotta be super sweet because the ice melts fast and that makes it just perfect.”

Both Tharin and Si’hala, glasses still in hand, regarded her with doubtful looks.

“You know, because it’s spring here,” Jenna said, “and a heck of a lot cooler, maybe we go with that third one?”

The two gave quick nods of agreement and Tharin gave orders to his staff to start enough tea brewing to serve the new beverage at midmeal. Jenna suddenly wondered how cali syrup would hold up in baking.

“I suppose midmeal will be served soon,” Si’hala commented.

“Yeah, I’m getting hungry too.” Si’hala was looking at her expectantly and Jenna sighed. “Okay, look, I’m sure I’m supposed to know what to do with a guest, but plain fact is, I don’t. What should I be doing right now?”

Si’hala gave her an amused look. “You might offer me a place to refresh my appearance before midmeal.”

“Oh, okay.” Si’hala already looked perfect, of course, but
she
should certainly change into something more suitable than riding clothes. “Let’s go to my quarters and you can fix yourself up there.”

Si’hala’s bright green eyes took in everything as she followed Jenna upstairs. “It is a fine house. I am sure you will be happy here when you take your place as clanmother.”

“Yeah, it’s nice.” She led Si’hala into her bathroom and the carved wooden vanity there. The clan, thrilled to have a new female, had provided her with a rainbow of cosmetics, a number of perfumes, and all sorts of hair doodads, way more girl stuff than she’d ever had before. “Help yourself.”

“Thank you,” Si’hala said, gracefully taking a seat at the vanity. The g’hir woman sought Jenna’s gaze in the reflection and her face took on an expression of concern. “I hope your arrival to the enclosure went well? That the Erah clan have made you feel welcome?”

“Absolutely,” Jenna said, shifting her weight. “They went all out—feast, streamers, the works.”

Si’hala took up an applicator and lightly touched up her already perfect eye makeup. “If you are unhappy here, I am sure you will find there is no end to the suitors you can command.”

“I’m happy with Ra’kur,” Jenna snapped.

Si’hala’s brow creased and she met Jenna’s gaze in the reflection again. “It is not my intention to give offense. I just thought if you were unhappy—there are so few females, especially of my own age, and I especially do not wish to lose your friendship. I only meant to help, Jenna.”

Seeing the anxiety in Si’hala’s face made her think of how her girlfriends had been in Asheville making the most of their twenties while she was moving back to Brittle Bridge to take care of Pap. The responsibility of it put her in a different place in life, creating a gulf that ultimately saw those friendships fade to nothing. It made her different, lonely, and recognizing that same loneliness in Si’hala’s eyes now, she softened.

“And I wouldn’t want to lose yours. I’m okay here, really.” Jenna offered a smile. “Still, it’s always nice to hear that you have options, right?”

Si’hala smiled back. “I think you have many, many options.”

“You probably had a lot of suitors, huh?” Jenna gave a short laugh. “You must have been the g’hirs’ version of Helen of Troy.”

Si’hala’s eyebrows rose. “Helen of Troy?”

“She was supposed to be the most beautiful woman on my world.”

“It is a compliment then?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Jenna assured. “Nations went to war over who she would be uh—mated to. She had tons of men after her.”

“As must you have had.”

Jenna regarded her own reflection, her too-round face, her chocolate brown eyes and hair. “I’m actually considered pretty ordinary for a human.”

“But your eyes are so unusual!” Si’hala exclaimed. “Russet with flecks of gold and green throughout. Such smooth, delicate features and your hair alight with a thousand strands of gold and red. Does Ra’kur not tell you how beautiful you are?”

Jenna blinked. “He does but . . . I mean, to me my eyes are just plain brown, my hair is brown too. It has a couple highlights but nothing anyone would notice. I didn’t realize I looked any different to him than I do to myself.”

“Well, then humans are especially lovely to us then. You look . . . almost supernatural.” The g’hir woman’s glance went over her and her mouth curved a little. “
Short
, mind you, but still stunning.”

“Thanks,” Jenna said wryly. “I’m having some trouble getting used to the men staring at me.”

“Of course they stare. They see so few females and none like you.” Si’hala tilted her head, regarding her with radiant alien eyes. “How do g’hir look to humans?”

Jenna thought about falling backwards onto the snow the first time she saw Ra’kur, screaming as she scrambled to get away.

“A little frightening at first,” she admitted. “You’re so different from us. The g’hir look beautiful to me now.”

“Well, since we are so new to you I do not mind confiding that I would have once been called ordinary looking.”

“Uh, I find
that
a little hard to believe.”

Si’hala smiled and gave a half shrug. “It is all in how you value yourself, how you carry yourself. Act as if you believe you are beautiful and you
are
beautiful.”

“It must be difficult in a way,” Jenna said slowly. “To be one of so few women left.”

“At no other time in our history would I be so rare, so desired, and mostly I have enjoyed the attention.” Si’hala’s smile faded. “But my clan pushed me to start considering an alliance when I was only fourteen summers. The wealthiest and most prominent clans sent sons for my consideration. They offered bribes.” Her face clouded. “Some made threats against my enclosure if I did not choose one of their clanbrothers. I was well educated, I play a number of musical instruments, but none of that mattered. I could be dull as dirt, a talentless fool, and it would not have mattered. All of my worth lay in my appearance, my value as a fertile mate.”

“That’s awful,” Jenna said.

“And
I
was awful,” Si’hala said with a wry smile. “I was scared but I was also haughty, rude, spoiled. When Lihr came to court me I treated him terribly.” She gave a laugh. “I was obnoxious—even for me!—and one night he stood up in the middle of our evening meal and told me so. He said he had no wish to spend his life with a miserable brat like me, no matter how pretty I was, and he walked out.”

“Wow,” Jenna said, her estimation of Lihr going up several notches. “What did you do?”

“Well, I could not believe it! Who was this male to treat me so? But I could not stop thinking about him. To him it was not enough that I should be pretty and female. He wanted more from me, from his mate, he wanted heart and mind and”—she laughed again—“good manners! He among all of them wanted something more of me than my breeding ability, than my looks.  Dozens of upon dozens of males called to me,” Si’hala smiled, “but only Lihr’s roar called to my heart.”

“What about . . . well, children? They must be pressuring you, all g’hir women, to have as many children as they can.”

Si’hala dropped her gaze. “Lihr tries to shield me from the worst of it, but it is always there, following me from room to room like a wraith—When will she have a child? Will she give us daughters or only sons?  We have not been mates long and I am young, the doctors assure me I am fertile. The Yir hope I will bear a child to him every year.”