The Consort (Tellaran Series) (4 page)

Please . . .

“I do choose her,” Jazan said proudly.

“First Imperial Daughter, do you choose Jazan of the Az’rayah?” 

Alari opened her mouth to reply with the ritual words of declaration to name him in return but then, as if another spoke through her, she cried: “No!”

She saw the astonishment of the court, felt the sudden stillness in Jazan beside her, saw the High Priestess blink.

Alari turned her head to meet his sky blue gaze.

“I choose Commander Kyndan Maere of the Tellaran Fleet!”

There was an instant of shocked silence then the eyes of everyone—the empress, the priestesses, the court, the warrior at the princess’ side—turned toward him.

“What?” Kyndan blurted.

He sought Kinara’s gaze and Aidar’s as well only to find his sister and brother-in-law equally stunned.

“Daughter,” the empress hissed. “Answer High Priestess Celara proper—”

The High Priestess, possibly the only one in all the Empire with the power to do so, held up her hand to silence the empress. 

“Princess Alari has declared for this”—Celara glanced at Kyndan—“man.” The High Priestess tilted her head to regard the scowling Jazan. “Jazan of the Az’rayah, do you cede your claim?”

“
He
is no warrior! He is not even
Az-kye
!” Jazan spat. “I see what game you play at,” he snarled at Alari and her lips went white. “You think I will not meet this Tellaran filth in the Circle.” He addressed the High Priestess. “I do
not
cede!”

“
Filth?
” Kyndan stepped forward, no doubt blowing all those weeks of nicey-nice diplomatic talks to dust. Kinara tried unsuccessfully to pull him back but he shook off her hold. “What the hell is going on?”

The eyes of the court were on him but right now he didn’t give a damn about their stupid protocols. 

He glared at them. “Is one of you going to festering
answer
me?”

The empress’ black eyes narrowed at him then she gave Aidar a short nod.

Aidar stepped forward. “Commander Kyndan Maere of the Tellaran Fleet,” he said. “First Imperial Daughter Alari has chosen you.”

“Chosen me?” Kyndan demanded. “What do you mean, chosen me?”

Aidar looked at him levelly. “To be her mate.”

Kyndan’s gaze snapped to Alari. “She did
what
?”

Her dark eyes met his, her mouth parted but she didn’t speak. 

“Kyndan Maere,” Aidar said, wresting his attention back. “Jazan of the Az’rayah has not relinquished his claim.”

“Yeah,” Kyndan said impatiently, tearing his eyes away from Alari. “I heard that.  What does it
mean
?”

“He will take challenge for her.”

Kyndan felt his face heating with annoyance.

“He will fight for her,” Aidar clarified.

“Fight
me
for her, you mean.” 

The guy was as big as a sular that’d fed on nothing but growth stims. Then Alari’s dark eyes met his again and Kyndan struggled against the urge to shove past them all, to stand between her and that hulking brute.

Kyndan held Alari’s gaze for a long moment.

“So what you’re saying is that if we fight and I win,” Kyndan said finally, “she marries me instead.”

“Yes,” Aidar answered.

Kyndan addressed the empress. “If I lose, will it affect the peace talks with the Tellarans?”

“Kyndan,” Kinara whispered frantically. “Oh, gods, don’t do this! Please, you don’t—”

Empress Azara shot his sister a look and she fell silent.

“No, it will not,” Azara said. “But as Jazan of the Az’rayah has said, you are not Az-kye.
You
are not a warrior.” She gave him a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “A Tellaran is not capable of acting as a warrior would and we do not expect such of you.”

Kyndan’s nostrils flared. All those months being regarded as less than an insect, all the abuse, the humiliations he’d suffered as slave on this world because the festering
Az-kye
thought themselves superior to Tellarans. The burning frustration of seeing his crew treated the same, the powerless rage of that year, seared through his mind in a flash of red.

The empress addressed the High Priestess. “This man is unworthy. Continue with—”

Kyndan’s fists clenched. “
The fuck I am!
”

His crude shout echoed through the arched hall of the Az-kye palace. Kyndan saw Aidar go pale; he heard the scandalized gasps of the court but he was past caring about any of that. 

“I am a
Tellaran
warrior. She chose
me
,” Kyndan said, jerking his chin at Alari. “You want a fight, Az-kye?” he demanded, narrowing his gaze at Jazan and bared his teeth.  “I’ll
give
you one!”

Jazan’s eyes went cold and cruel. “Then I will take challenge now.”

Aidar addressed the High Priestess urgently. “Commander Maere does not know the rules of the Circle. He must be allowed time to prepare. You must allow a month at minimum.”

“A month?” Jazan exclaimed, then turned his eyes to the High Priestess.  “You cannot allow such!”

The High Priestess addressed Kyndan, her eyes regretful. “If you would claim yourself worthy, Tellaran warrior, then you must be worthy now. I will allow you an hour to prepare yourself.”

“You deem
him
worthy to be mated to an Imperial Daughter?” the empress demanded with an outraged gesture at Kyndan.

“I do not have to.” Celara raised her eyebrows. “Your daughter did when she named him, Imperial Majesty.” The High Priestess touched Alari’s arm. “You will be under my protection until challenge is decided, child.”

Alari’s face had blanched and she sent him a pleading gaze, shaking her head ever so slightly.

He wet his lips. Was she regretting her hasty choice, then?

“Hold on,” Kyndan said. “She and I need to talk alone first.”

Jazan moved between them like an eclipse, a wall of black animal skins and muscle.

“You will
never
speak to her alone, Tellaran,” Jazan snarled. “And in an hour I will kill you in the Circle.”

The Az-kye warrior stalked off. With a final look of distaste in his direction, the empress whirled on her heel to stride away, her attendants flying after her. The High Priestess drew the princess along as the court exchanged shocked, excited whispers.

Alari looked over her shoulder at him, her dark eyes wide with horror. 

“Oh, fuck me,” Kyndan managed. “It’s a fight to the death?”

A little less than an hour later Kyndan stood barefoot and dressed in only a loincloth, awkwardly gripping the Az-kye sword Aidar had found for him.

So much for dignified . . .

“You could have spoken up,” he said to Aidar.

Aidar looked at him impatiently. “We did
all
speak up for you! Why did you not refuse? Why did you not listen when my mate begged you not do this? The Empress Azara-behn the Heart of Heaven’s Children
herself
excused you. And did you insist to undertake this fool thing I sought to give you time to train and you did not even plead for that!”

Kyndan looked at the wicked sharp blade in his hand, flashing in the light of the warrior’s prep room as he turned it this way and that. “So I have to kill him?”

“Or he will kill you.”

“Actually kill him?”

“Or
he
will kill
you
!”

Kyndan shook his head. “Why the hell did she do it anyway?  Why choose
me
?
Why not an Az-kye warrior? Gods, there were dozens there.”

“It was a scandal, an affront to Jazan and his clan, that she should name another just before the final vows,” Aidar said. “It is generations since such was done but the First Imperial Daughter has the right to name any man not already mated or betrothed.” His head came up, his dark eyes suddenly hopeful.  “Are you betrothed, Kyndan?”

“Sorry, no.”

Aidar sighed. “A shame. But any warrior the princess could name, Jazan of the Az’rayah could fight and defeat. I cannot but believe she thought he would not agree to the Challenge. Truly, it is unseemly that he has.”

“Because it’s beneath him to fight me,” Kyndan said tightly.  “Because it shames him to have to fight a Tellaran.”

“Yes,” Aidar said bluntly.

“So she names me because she thinks it’s a solid out for her and no one has to fight. At least she wasn’t trying to get me killed when she did it.” Kyndan tried a practice swipe with the blade. “Well, that’ll make marrying her a smidge less awkward for me.”

“I hope you survive to do so,” Aidar said solemnly.

Kyndan’s brow creased. “Have you ever thought of becoming a Fleet Counselor?  You have a real talent for inspiring positive thinking.”

Aidar gave a nod. “It lifts my heart that your humor has not left you.”

“Aidar,” Kyndan said, lowering the sword. “Why don’t you use this time to tell me how I
can
win, rather than tell how sorry you are that I’m not going to?”

Aidar shifted his weight.

Kyndan blew his breath out. “Okay, how about this?  How would
you
win, if you had to fight him?”

Aidar considered. “He is taller, his reach longer, and he is extremely well trained.  Jazan is a warrior mighty enough to be the empress’ choice to sire a ruler . . .” 

“Okay,” Kyndan gritted out as Aidar trailed off.  “He can beat the snot out of me.  We
know
that. Does he have any weaknesses?”

Aidar looked grim. “Jazan is intelligent and well versed in strategy. He is renowned to be fearless in combat and his clan is an ancient and mighty one.”

“The perfect warrior,” Kyndan murmured. “And the perfect mate for an Az-kye princess . . .”

Maybe he should get out of this. He probably still could. Go to the High Priestess, complain that he didn’t know it would be a death match, say he had reconsidered. Claim that
he
, a lowly Tellaran, could never be worthy of being the mate of the First Imperial Daughter.

But then she’d marry Jazan.

And she’s terrified of him.

It was in the way she looked at Jazan, the way she tried to make her delicate form even smaller as soon as she took her place beside him.

The Az-kye had strict gender roles but it was essentially a matriarchal society. She was a woman where women had the advantage. She was an Imperial princess. For gods’ sake, she was heiress to the Az-kye throne itself. What could
she
have to fear?

None of this was his problem anyway. The whole thing was an internal Az-kye matter. She’d tried to get out of an arranged marriage she didn’t want and it didn’t work. She’d figure something out. And if she had to marry this guy, she really had the upper hand here, didn’t she?

He should hand over the sword and get the hell out of here. Put the dress uniform—which was uncomfortable but at least covered his ass—back on and walk away from this fight. The peace talks would go forward with the empress’ blessing and Princess Alari would get the ideal Az-kye mate.

Alari.

He hadn’t even known her name when her eyes first met his.

Eyes as dark, deep and soft as a summer night . . .

Kyndan tightened his grip on the sword.

“Okay, he’s Ren’thar in mortal form,” Kyndan said with a dry reference to the Az-kye’s warrior god. “What’s Ren’thar’s weakness?”

Aidar’s brow creased.  “His mate, Lashima.”

“Goddess of Love.” Kyndan studied Aidar. “You know Az-kyes a hell of a lot better than I do. You saw them together. Do you think Jazan loves Alari?”

Aidar gave a snort. “I think Jazan a warrior who loves himself alone. He would not force a woman to be his mate if she named another, did he love her.”

“Did you love Kinara when you married her?” Kyndan asked suddenly. Kinara had agreed to be Aidar’s mate to win freedom for her enslaved crew, Nisara and Tedah among them. But Kyndan had never really thought about why Aidar had married a Tellaran slave.

Aidar’s dark eyes were lit from within. “With such depth I cannot even speak to it.”

“That’s good,” Kyndan said quietly. He tilted his head. “So if I marry Alari I’ll become part of the Imperial family, right?”

“Yes.”

“And once I’m the princess’ consort you’ll have to bow to me, won’t you?”

Aidar’s face mouth twitched in amusement. “I would.”

“Don’t worry, Aidar.” Kyndan grinned. “I’ll make sure you’re front and center for the wedding.”

“First rule of combat is to know you are going to win.” 

Kyndan recalled hearing Lieutenant Deril say that on his first day at the academy. The man was a windbag but he knew his stuff.

“Have confidence that, no matter what
,” he’d said to the class, his Leman accent giving his words a clipped, harsh tone,
“you will prevail.”

Kyndan stepped into the arena, his heart hammering in his chest. He’d learned long ago at the academy how to get out of his own way, to go beyond the fear, how to trust himself and his training to handle anything he came up against.

I will win. 

I just need to figure out
how
. . .

The circular arena had a dirt floor and was surrounded on all sides with stands for an audience. In the center, brightly lit from above and marked with stones to show the boundary, was the Circle. He couldn’t cross the stone boundary by more than a step; to do so meant being cut down by warriors who waited outside in case of such an occurrence.

Run, you shame your clan and they kill you anyway.

Once Kyndan stepped inside the Circle he would win or he would die.

At least it’s a nice turnout.

The stands were more dimly lit, filled to capacity and then some. There were many more outside who pressed forward at the arched exits, peering in from the corridors outside. The empress was easy to pick out; she commanded the very center of the stands and sat surrounded by her advisors and attendants.

He spotted Kinara and Aidar on the right. Tedah was there with them, Lianna at his side. The three looked grim but Kinara looked sick with fear. He’d asked Aidar to keep Kinara outside. In her condition she didn’t need to be watching this, but clearly his brother-in-law had lost that argument.

Knowing Kinara, Aidar probably lost a lot of arguments.

A single other light burned as brightly as the one lighting the Circle. Directed down it illuminated an observation balcony over the space.

Alari stood there, alone.

Her posture was straight, her head held high, but she gripped the rails so tightly even from here Kyndan could see the tension. 

Jazan entered at the same time from the other side of the arena.  Dressed as Kyndan was, in loincloth alone, the man was a mass of muscle and scars.

With Kyndan her chosen, Jazan was the challenger. As such, Jazan went first to stand in front of Alari. She said something to him but from where Kyndan stood he could not make it out.

Whatever it was, made the warrior’s lip curl and he stalked away to take up his place in the Circle opposite from where Alari stood.

As her chosen, Kyndan went second to stand before her. He would start the fight from this position, standing in front of her, standing as her protector.

She looked so fragile up there, so alone. It wasn’t right that Alari should have to watch this with no one to comfort her. She deserved better care.

Kyndan gave a bemused half smile as he took up position beneath her.
When did I start thinking of her as mine?

“Tell them,” she said hoarsely. Her dark eyes were wide as she looked down at him, her lower lip trembling. “Tell them you do not wish for this challenge. He will let you go. He will let you live.”

Kyndan had been in battle. He’d been in simulations at the academy where they messed with your brain so bad that you didn’t even realize it wasn’t real, just to test you. And when he’d entered the Fleet he’d accepted the possibility that he might die but he wasn’t really willing to.

He’d always held something back.

But this wasn’t a fight for ideals or territory or because he was ordered by some data pusher back at Central Command. If he lost here Alari was going to spend her life with that brute.

This was for
her
.

And he wasn’t going to hold anything back this time.

“I’ll be a good mate,” he said simply then he turned to face Jazan.