Gail Daley's Blog, page 6
December 1, 2019
November 21, 2019
New Space Colony Book in the Works
I started working on Quantum Light, the seventh book in the Space Colony Journals series. I plan for it to be set on Trellya, and this involves creating another planet. Although glimpses of the way the Trellyan’s society functions were shown in some of the other books, this one requires an in-depth look at it. Since I already created it as a theocracy, I decided to base Trellyan society partially on the caste system in India and the Inquisition in the middle ages and how it would transition into a modern space-faring society. This requires a considerable amount of historical research. I’m also doing a much more involved story outline than usual so I can make it consistent with the Trellya I visualize.
To do this, I added Selick, the half-Trellyan half-human girl adopted by Lady Katherine*, to the story as one of the main characters. Her presence enables me to illustrate the prejudices encountered by those considered lower caste individuals. It also gives a reason why Selick’s birth clan would have wanted to get rid of her.
There will be rebels, both those wanting a peaceful changeover and those who advocate violence to change Trellya’s government. Both sides want to liberalize the hold the Magistra have on Trellyan society, but their methods are different.
I always end up working less on my stuff during the holidays, so I am prepared for this book to move slowly at first. I plan on working on some paintings over the Thanksgiving week, as I will be away from my desktop computer. I don’t care what Apple says, writing on the I-pads is more difficult than using the desktop, and I don’t have access to my usual tools such as spell check and my Thesaurus when I use them.
*See The Designer People
September 17, 2019
Review: Agnes & The Hitman
This is a collaboration between Jennifer Crusie & Bob Mayer. It has all of Crusie’s standard zany characters and humor along with Mayer’s action packed hero. The two story styles are a surprisingly good blend.
September 11, 2019
Book Sale
THE HANDFASTING SERIES (books 1 — 5) WILL BE ON SALE UNTIL OCT 1, 2019
or WHILE COPIES LAST. (Titles Included: A Year & A Day, Forever & A Day, All Our Tomorrows, From This Day Forward, and To Love & Honor)
SERIES WILL BE RETIRED ON OCTOBER 1, 2019
THERE ARE A LIMITED NUMBER OF BOOKS STILL AVAILABLE SO DON’T WAIT!
As an author I hate to say this but being able to write a great story doesn’t always mean that story will sell. My Handfasting series, although it is selling, isn’t getting the kind of response the quality of the books merit. I consulted some publishing experts and they informed me that although the stories are great, the titles are sending mixed messages. It was recommended that I target only one of the genres: Science Fiction by changing the titles of the books and the series to appeal to science fiction readers (the genre in which the books belong). In order to prevent confusion to my readers, on October 1, I will be discontinuing the Handfasting Series. In November, I will be repackaging all the books under a new Series title: Space Colony Journals, and each book has been given a title designed to appeal to readers of science fiction. The new series will come out on October 31stin time to join the 6thbook about the O’Teague Clan: Alien Trails.
In order to clear my inventory, I am putting the Handfasting series on sale at discounted prices. All books in the series are discounted. e-books are .99¢. However, because of some distributers differing price requirements, the Paperback book discount prices will start at $8.59 but may be higher depending on which site you choose to buy from.
Links:
E-Books: https://books2read.com/ap/n41KK8/Gail-Daley
or
Gail’s web site: http://www.gaildaleysfineart.com/book-buyers.php
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/author/gaildaley
September 3, 2019
EXCERPT – Tomorrow’s Legacy
A warrior/priestess teams up with a Bard from another world and genetic “designer” children to defeat a dangerous foe and keep their planet from an off planet takeover.
Lady Drusilla O’Teague, 3rd daughter of a powerful line of psychically gifted women, was trained from birth as warrior and Dragon Talker. She distrusts her own feelings because as child she was unable to shield herself from the seesaw emotions of others.
Lucas Lewellyn is an off-world survivor of the Karamine Wars. He is the hereditary Bard of his people with the ability to compel with his voice, but he is untrained in using his powers. He knows when he meets Drusilla that their destinies are linked, but will she admit it?
Their world of Vensoog is in danger. A prince of the Thieves Guild wants the deposits of Azorite—mighty crystals used to power spaceships and found in large quantities on Vensoog. To save their world, Drusilla and Lucas will need the help of “designer” children built by that same Thieves Guild.
Juliette Jones—created in the Guild’s Geno-Lab to be super smart, ruthless, wily and conniving: the perfect spy. But the Guild never realized they had also given her a loving heart.
Lucinda Karns—daughter of a Thieves Guild Lieutenant, she was given enhanced genes to make her the perfect icy thinker and planner, but those genes sparked a need for balance and gave her a moral compass at odds with her masters’ goals.
Violet Ishimara—constructed with a high degree of empathy to be a tool for the Guild, Her alliance with the Vensoog Sand Dragon Jelli gave her the courage to stand up to her masters.
Rupert, the intuitive chemist, and Roderick, the electronic genius—orphaned twins seen by the Guild as tools to turn into weapons, turned out to be a lot tougher than the Guild expected.
Opening Gambit
SOMETHING was wrong on Talkers Isle. Drusilla had known it almost as soon as she stepped off the shuttle yesterday. This Isle had always been one of her favorite places on Vensoog. It’s aura of peace and tranquility had provided solace to her angst-ridden spirit when she first set foot on it as a child. Now, someone or something, had poisoned that aura and Drusilla was going to make them pay for it.
The acute contrast between the atmosphere today and the feeling when she came here years ago as a traumatized child had been just nasty. When she had come as a child, it had been for further training in controlling the impact of the emotions she picked up from the people around her.
Today when Drusilla had come back to Talker’s Isle to bring some of the clan’s security forces here to take the Dragon Talker training, she had looked forward to immersing herself into the Isle’s peaceful aura for a few days. Apparently, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Alright,” Genevieve said, her voice jerking Drusilla out of her brown study. “Enough brooding. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Can’t you feel it?” Drusilla questioned. “This whole place reeksof despair, dissatisfaction and anger.”
“I’m not a Dragon Talker,” her sister reminded her.
“Trust me, something is very wrong here.”
“Have you discussed this bad feeling with Mother Superior?” Genevieve asked.
Drusilla shook her head. “I don’t think she’s well, Genevieve. I don’t want to distress her. I know something is not right though. When I asked for a volunteer to go out to Veiled Isle, it was almost as if the Talkers were hostile to the idea. When I was training here, teachers used to trip over each other to volunteer for a sweet assignment like that.”
Her sister made a face. “Well I don’t think that sour-mouthed old bat who volunteered will be an asset. Why on earth did you choose her?”
“She was the only one to come forward, Genevieve,” Drusilla reminded her. “I can’t force anyone to come out to the Isle, you know that.”
“So, what are you going to do?” Genevieve inquired. She and Gideon were expecting their first child during the Planting Festival, and Drusilla had noticed she had developed a habit of patting her belly protectively. She did it now.
“Someone needs to find out what is going on, but I can’t stay here and root it out. I promised Katherine I would go back to Veiled Isle and help with tutoring Violet and some of the other children while Mistress Leona is laid up. I think I need to talk to Lucas,” Drusilla said thoughtfully. “He’s going to be here for at least eight weeks and he is a trained investigator. Once we know what is wrong, we can decide what steps to take.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Genevieve remarked, reflecting with hidden amusement that over the past year Drusilla seemed to have developed a lot of confidence in Lucas. I do hope he’s on her List because I think they might make a good match after all, she thought. I’ll have to ask Katherine to check when we go back to Veiled Isle.
Drusilla had met Lucas, who was here to take the training, the first day he had arrived on Vensoog with Genevieve’s husband Gideon. Lucas was Gideon’s foster son and he had emigrated with him when Gideon married Genevieve. Gideon’s marriage to Genevieve, as well as that of many of Gideon’s unit who had chosen to take part in the Handfasting, had been necessary to restore a healthy genetic balance to Vensoog.
Although Drusilla and Lucas had been considered too young to participate, the two of them had spent a lot of time together. Lucas had been the first young man to pay her the kind of attention a man gives an attractive woman, and Drusilla had found herself immediately attracted to Lucas as well. His quirky sense of humor and sturdy common sense had appealed to her. He wasn’t bad looking either. Lucas was tall, with a born rider’s broad shouldered, narrow hipped build, but his body showed the promise of the heavy muscles that would come as he aged. Like his foster father Gideon, he had light hair that he kept short soldier fashion, sharp green eyes and clean cut features.
To Drusilla’s bewilderment and secret delight, Lucas had seemed to be charmed by her person and had spent as much of his time with her as he could manage. Lucas hadn’t been annoying but he had made it obvious he wanted her. She sensed he wasn’t going to be patient with her waffling about deciding forever.
For the past several months he had shown all the signs of a man who wanted more than just friendship, and Drusilla knew she was going to have to decide about her relationship with Lucas soon because the Makers were going to give them their Match Lists at the next Planting Festival.
Behind them, she could hear Genevieve’s two foster daughters, Ceridwen and Bronwen playing with a new litter of Quirka pups. Drusilla’s own Quirka, Toula, nuzzled her ear gently in sympathy with her unease. Quirka were native to Vensoog. They were about the size of a human fist, with thick, mottled yellow fur that changed color to match their environment. Originally making their homes in the trees and living on nuts, berries and insects, Quirkas had become avid hunters of the pests and creepy-crawlies who invaded human dwellings. Their main protection against predators was their retractable, venom tipped quills running down the backbone. They had a large bushy tail used for ballast when leaping from tree to tree. One of their chief attractions to humans though was the life bond they developed with certain men and women.
Leaving Genevieve and the children playing with the Quirka pups, she headed for the student dormitory area. Drusilla spotted Lucas’s tall form in one of the dormitory sections kept for temporary training classes. Tomorrow, she knew the incoming class would begin the rigorous conditioning designed to give them the mental and physical stamina needed to turn them into Dragon Talkers. Tonight however they were given free time to settle in.
When she appeared in the doorway, Lucas immediately came toward her. “I need to speak to you,” she said softly, “Outside.”
This caused some good-natured teasing as he ushered her outside.
“Sorry about that,” he said smiling. “Most of them know I’ve got a special feeling for you. They don’t mean anything by it.”
She waved it away. “Look, there’s something funny going on here on the Isle. I can’t stay and root it out, but since you have to be here anyway, I thought maybe you could look around some.”
If he was disappointed at her reason for seeking him out, it didn’t show in his face. “Sure,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a one-armed hug. “I’ll keep an eye on things for you, but I want a real date when we get to the Festival.”
Drusilla almost stamped her foot in exasperation. “Honestly, is that all you can think about? I tell you there might be trouble brewing and you want to talk about our Match Lists?”
“Well, what is going on here on the Isle is important, but then I think we are too.”
“Oh, alright!” she exclaimed. “We can go to the Introductory Ball together, okay?”
“You got it Darling,” he said, managing to plant a quick kiss on her mouth before walking away. “Oh, by the way” he said over his shoulder, “I was going to keep an eye on things anyway; Gideon already gave me a watching brief on it.”
This time she did stamp her foot. How did he always manage to knock her off balance? No one else did that to her because she didn’t allow it. Somehow though, Lucas always managed it. Despite her irritation at falling for his trick, she watched him walk all the way back to the dormitory, unwillingly admiring the effortless way he moved. She couldn’t help but appreciate his cleverness, despite her irritation because he had tricked her again. Somehow, Lucas roused a response in her physically and emotionally in a way she had never allowed another man to do, and darn it, he hadmanaged to kiss her again. Drusilla sighed in exasperation. The problem wasn’t with Lucas, she admitted. If she hadn’t kissed him back every time, he wouldn’t have reason to think she was falling in love with him. The real trouble, Drusilla acknowledged, was she was afraid he was right. She wasn’t exactly proud of her behavior; it wasn’t fair of her to allow him to kiss her and then push him away. It wasn’t Lucas’s fault she was afraid of the emotion growing between them—she knew was leery of her own power and what a loss of control could mean to others around her.
Irritably, she kicked a pebble off the path back to the guest quarters. She had looked forward to the peace and tranquility she had always found here, but she hadn’t found it on this trip. Yes, someone was going to pay for spoiling Talker’s Isle. Drusilla intended to make sure of it.
Pawn To Kings Four
LUCAS’S FIRST morning on Talker’s Isle started with being rousted out at dawn to run along the rocky shoreline. The beaches on Talker’s Isle were not made of smooth sand but of crushed pebbles intersected with up-thrust outcroppings of rocks, ranging from fist-sized stones to boulders. That made running the beach course set up by their instructor something of a hazard. The calisthenics teacher, Senior Talker Marian, plainly expected her new students to have difficulty with the course. To her surprise, Lucas and the rest of Gideon’s people not only ran the course without stumbling, none of them was out of breath when they finished. Some of the ex-military trainees even had energy left afterwards for a little horseplay.
Marian frowned at them when they ended the run. “You are in remarkably good shape,” she said to Tim Morgan, the leader of the group.
He smiled at her. “That little stretch? The courses we ran in training were twice as long and we carried eighty pound packs and weapons when we did it.”
“I see,” she said. “In that case, let’s start with the run most of our classes finish with. Follow me,” and she took off, running up the cliff trail from the shore. For the next hour, she led them up into the rocky hills above the Talker Compound, and then across the Isle and back down to the beach, ending up just outside the complex, where she stopped and ran in place while she took stock of her new class. They were all in wonderful shape, she admitted, admiring Tim Morgan’s physique as he jogged in place. This group might not be exhausted at the end of this run, but at least they now knew they’d had a workout.
“Okay,” she called, “cool down and then go in and have breakfast. Your first class in how to push and pullwill begin in an hour in classroom four. Your teacher will be Senior Talker Terella.”
After breakfast, Lucas was a little surprised when he entered the room for the next class to find no chairs or desks. The teacher, Senior Talker Terella, must have been in her eighties. She was a wizened figure of a woman with thinning white hair twisted into a knot on the top of her head. However, her bright blue eyes were clear and sharp. For this class, they had each been issued a pair loose pants and a sleeveless pullover top. When he entered the room, Lucas was instructed to take off his shoes and stack them over by a row of woven mats piled against one wall. After everyone had taken a mat, they all lined up in rows with the mats at their feet. Terella walked around the class and shifted some of the trainees to different spots, sorting them (apparently) by the amount of room they might take up lying full length. Once she had the class arranged to her satisfaction, the students were told to step onto the mats. Terella began to lead them in some of the weirdest bending and stretching exercises Lucas had ever seen, let alone tried to perform.
When Terella decided it was time for them to start breathing exercises, Lucas was bent over backwards with his hands flat on the floor. Along with several others, he started to straighten up, and was told to stay in the bent backward position.
With his head hanging upside down, Lucas looked across at Morgan who had ended up in the same position across from him, and made a grimace, getting an eye roll in return. Terella laughed.
“You all are wondering why now we do meditation, yes? Well, to become a talker, you must learn to ignore your body’s sensations and work your mind. For the next ten minutes, I will count and you will breathe in and out. One, breathe in, two, breathe in, three, breathe in, one breathe out….”
When she finished this torture, she had them all sit cross-legged on the mat and repeat the same exercise.
Finally, she told them to sit and listen to the sounds around them, identifying each one silently and then to try to locate where it was coming from without opening their eyes. As he did this exercise, Taid’s crystal began to feel uncomfortably warm against Lucas’s skin. So much so that he finally pulled it out and let it lie against the shirt material instead of his bare skin. Terella noticed his discomfort and came by his station on the mat. She bopped him on the back of the head with the back of her hand. “Focus!” she said sharply. “Ignore the pain!”
When she finally allowed them to open their eyes, she explained to them that they had just undergone their first lesson in finding a pull. A pull, she explained is when you use your third eye to locate things close to you. “Later, we will work on doing a pullat a distance,” she said smiling.
Just before the class broke up, she let each of them feel her touch at the edge of their senses. Again, Lucas could feel the crystal heating up. This time he realized he was seeing Terella’s push as a ray of light yellow color that softly touched each student in the class.
When she dismissed the class to go to lunch, she stopped Lucas as he was about to leave. “Are you alright, My Lord?” she asked.
He nodded, hesitating and then he asked, “Has anyone ever reported seeinga push?”
“No,” she replied, “but I can sense you are unusually gifted in some ways. Could you see something when I pushedthe class just now?”
“Yes. A very soft yellow stream of light touched everyone. This heated up too,” he added, indicating the crystal.
“May I touch it?”
When he nodded consent, she touched the crystal with the tip of a finger and then drew back quickly. “There is a great deal of power locked up in this. Where did you get it?”
“It’s a family heirloom. My grandfather left it with a friend to be passed on to me when I was old enough. It’s supposed to help me assume my family legacy,” he said, tucking the now cool crystal back inside his shirt.
“I suggest you be very careful when you open it up,” she warned him. “As I said, it’s very powerful. However, it seems to be tuned to you in some fashion so that should provide some measure of safety. Yellow did you say? Hummm…”
Lucas left, determined to do some research about his grandfather’s gift in his first spare minute. As it happened though, he didn’t have many spare minutes for the rest of the day.
The afternoon teacher was a man named Gerard Colson who insisted they address him as Senior Talker Colson, a formality none of the other teachers had bothered with. Colson was a tall, thin man with a narrow, long-jawed face. A plume of shiny black hair fell romantically over his forehead. It was obvious within the first few minutes of class that the Senior Talker didn’t believe this class had any worthy students.
“To be a Dragon Talker,” Colson stated arrogantly, “you must be able to focus your mind on the dragon’s emotions and tune out distractions. I doubt many of you will be able to do this, especially coming from a military background, but we’ll see.”
The next thing he did was slam a hard pushof embarrassment and unworthiness straight at Lucas whom he apparently thought would be the weakest of the group. Lucas could see a wide black band push outward from Colson, and he could feel the pressure of the pushlike a physical blow. Taid’s gift flashed white hot, and when Lucas instinctively grabbed the front of his shirt to pull the crystal away from his skin, he found he could shove back at the negative feelings. As he pushedback, he could see the black wave beginning to turn grey. Gradually, the grey grew lighter and then began to creep back along the wave toward Colson. Colson staggered, catching himself on the edge of the teacher’s desk in the front of the room.
Giving Lucas a shocked look, Colson abruptly cut off pushbefore the counter wave of light Lucas was generating reached him. He was very careful after that first attempt not to try to overpower Lucas when he pushedat him during the rest of the class. He said nothing about it however. No one had bothered to tell Colson that all the men and women taking this class had first been vetted by Drusilla to make sure they could handle the training. He became visibly more irate as the class progressed.
Lucas found the last class of the day self-defense and weapon handling, in particular, the Force Wand, a relief. Having seen one in action on Fenris, he already knew that a Vensoog Force Wand was made of titanium/steel, covered in the Rainbow tree hardwood.
“This is a standard Force Wand,” the teacher, a tough, wiry woman with a shock of short cut brown hair, informed them. “You will keep this one as long as you are here on Talker’s Isle. Once you graduate, you may want to have one made especially for you.”
“Watch this and do as I show you.” She held hers out with her right hand gripping the center handle, and pressed a raised crystal in the center with her thumb. “Most wands will extend to around four feet, which is the optimum length for close in fighting. Tap the same button twice and it will retract.”
She held one of the ends up so they could see it. “This end carries a knife which can be used for thrusting. I do not recommend using it unless your life is threatened; however, it is useful for cutting free a Dragon caught in rope or sea strands.” She touched another of the raised crystals and a four-inch blade snapped out. She walked up and down the line, making them repeat her actions until she was satisfied they could extend and retract the wand and the blade.
Holding up the wand, which she held by the handle in the middle, she showed them how to move the power dial. “If a Dragon is particularly ornery, or stubborn, we sometimes find it necessary to provide an incentive, so the other end of your wand, is a shock stick. Before we are through, each of you will touch himself with it set on the mildest setting. The maximum setting, designed for use on the larger water dragons, is fatal to humans.”
The class spent the next few minutes playing with the adjustments on that end of the wand. Lucas found even the mild setting unpleasant. He remembered that Lady Katherine had in fact killed two of the thugs attacking her children with her wand, so he was very careful with his. Unfortunately, a couple of the others were seized with the urge to show off, and ended up burned by their own wands. Afterwards, when Lucas asked Senior Talker Loretta why she hadn’t stopped the two students, she smiled. “Some are more hard-headed than others and must learn by doing.”
The class wasn’t just physical. Loretta assigned the students to spend the last half of the class Reading up on the history of the Talkers. Here, Lucas found the Wands had been developed after it had been realized that unscrupulous clansmen would sometimes attempt to strong-arm Dragon Talkers to pushboth people and dragons into committing illegal or sometimes even dangerous acts. If the Talker could fend off most physical attacks, it discouraged this type of coercion.
That evening, Lucas realized he wasn’t going to be able to find any privacy to really open up Taid’s crystal and study its properties; the constant movement and talk of his bunkmates was too distracting and he did notwant an audience when he explored it.
However, he felt what Drusilla had termed the ‘miasma of discontent’ that seemed to pervade the entire island. Even Gideon’s Talker unit had been affected; everyone was short-tempered and seemed to take offense much easier than they had before they came here. Both he and Tim Morgan reported it to Lord Zack on their nightly after hour’s reports.
Lord Zack had been put in charge of security on Veiled Isle, the closest of the Laird’s territories to Talker’s Isle. The rest of the team knew Lucas and Morgan were going out after the trainees’ curfew check, but they knew the pair had been chased with a task to look for something so the class ignored it.
When Gideon had asked him to keep an eye out for anything suspicious on Talker’s Isle, he had been glad to do it. Getting Drusilla to promise him a real date on their first official function during the Festival had just been a bonus. She had kissed him back too; although it was plain her own response bothered her for some reason.
During their third week on the Isle, Colson suddenly began bringing the unit a special morning drink that he said contained unique vitamins and minerals to help them survive the training. When Lucas took his first sip of it, the crystal Taid had given him got very hot against his skin and he was hit by a wave of nausea and a blinding headache. He barely made it to the bathroom and immediately threw up what he had swallowed. Not wanting to make a big deal of it, he hid the nearly full bottle in his footlocker.
His nausea and headache subsided during the usual grueling morning workout. He ate the high-protein breakfast provided for the trainees with a good appetite, suffered through Terella’s meditation exercises, and then went to the second class.
Of the two, he preferred Terella’s teachings to that of Senior Talker Colson. This morning Colson opened class with a discussion about the Clan system of government. Colson’s usual method of teaching them had been to start controversial discussions to distract them while he poked at them with a push. This morning, he kept urging the trainees to agree that it was unfair to exclude certain segments of the population from inheriting property or titles. Lucas could feel the man using an intense pushto generate feelings of resentment and anger. A Push, Lucas had learned in training, was what the Clans of Vensoog called this method used to influence others. Looking around, he could see that most of the class seemed to be allowing themselves to yield to the unpleasant emotions Colson’s pushgenerated. Since he knew Gideon’s people to be both stubborn and hard to influence, Lucas suspected some outside factor had to be involved in their too easy transition to resentment. It had to have been the drink. Taid’s crystal had caused him to throw up, he decided. Obviously, the crystal had the ability to detect harmful materials he ate or drank.
As Colson’s pushgrew stronger, Taid’s crystal began heating up again and Lucas could see the negative emotions being pushedby Colson as dark rays of color that touched everyone and everything. Instinctively, Lucas touched the crystal under his shirt and felt a surge of power lessening the influence behind Colson’s push. Not liking the angry feelings around him, Lucas instinctively pushedback against them hard enough to block it for himself and the others. As he did so, he could see his own pushshifting the dark colored rays to a lighter hue.
Colson glared around, attempting to locate who was causing the change in the atmosphere he had been creating. He finally fixed on Lucas. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, advancing on Lucas with a scowl.
Lucas shrugged and did his best to look innocent. “I don’t know what you mean. I think that the clan system seems to be working just fine, is all.” As he spoke, he again pusheda positive feeling out into the room spreading an even lighter wave of color that touched everyone but Colson. To his astonishment, several of the class who voiced agreement with Colson, now spoke up to disagree with him. Tight-lipped with anger, Colson abruptly ended the lesson.
He was going to have to find out exactly what Taid’s crystal was and how to use it, Lucas decided grimly. Gideon had said it was some kind of psychic teaching tool, but after Terella’s warning, he had been reluctant to explore it without someone to watch his back while he did so. Drusilla was the most experienced psychic he knew and she had asked him to look into things here on the Isle. If he asked her to make an excuse to return they could discuss a time and place for him to really open up the crystal and find out what he needed to learn. At last, he had something to report to Lord Zack. Because of Veiled Isle’s proximity to Talker’s Isle, Gideon had asked Zack to receive any communications about what was wrong on Talker’s Isle.
At least Lucas now had a concrete suspicion to report about what was causing the disaffection on the Isle. Zack could pass the information on to Warlord Gideon.
The next morning before Colson had a chance to bring in any more of his special drink, Lucas told Morgan that he thought there had been something in the ‘vitamin’ cocktail that had helped Colson manipulate the class’s emotions. Morgan frowned, but he had been one of the few in the class Colson hadn’t been able to influence easily and he agreed to tell everyone not to drink it. Morgan had been a staff Sargent in the unit during the war so it was natural for the rest of Gideon’s trainees to obey him.
This time when Colson started a critical discussion of the clan system, the entire class had been forewarned and most of them were able to recognize the pushfor an attempt to influence them and successfully resisted. Those that had difficulty withstanding it were assisted by their companions. Colson left the class after a few biting comments concerning their inability to use what he was attempting to teach them.
That night after lights out, Lucas and Morgan slipped out of the dormitory to contact Zack. They had been giving nightly reports, but until now, there had been nothing but vague feelings of disquiet to report.
“Well, now,” Zack observed when they had reported their suspicions. “I certainly think that stuff needs to be tested. Did you keep any of it?”
“Yes,” Lucas answered. “We both have the bottle that was given out this morning and I have part of yesterdays. How do you want us to get the sample to you?”
“Neither of you can interrupt your training to bring it here without alerting Colson so I think it will be best if I send someone over to you to test it instead,” Zack responded. A thought occurred to him and he grinned. “I’m going to send someone this guy Colson won’t suspect.”
Morgan’s eyebrows rose. “Who did you have in mind?”
Zack’s smile turned feral. “It’s time Lucas got a visit from his girl. Drusilla was just saying that the new Sand Dragon calves should be appearing with their mothers. She was talking about taking the kids on a field trip over there to see them. If she arranges for the trip to happen on your rest day, Lucas can go with her to help ‘supervise’ the kids. Rupert can test the stuff in the bottle while you’re away from the area. No one will suspect a thing.”
“Who is Rupert?” inquired Morgan.
“Rupert is my nephew,” Zack explained. “Katherine had all the kids’ skills and aptitudes tested back on Fenris and I understand he tested out over level three hundred in chemistry. The kid’s good, trust me. He’ll be able to tell if Colson added something like Submit to the drink.”
“A kidtested out over three hundred?” Morgan asked. “That’s master level.”
“It sure is,” Zack said proudly.
“Wow. Well, our next rest day is the day after tomorrow,” responded Morgan. “Having Lady Drusilla come over with the children is a good idea; that way everyone will just think Lucas is getting a booty call.”
“Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Lucas,” Zack said grinning. “Business first—courting later.”
“That covers quite a lot of territory,” Lucas retorted smartly.
The Bard Of Lewellyn
WHEN DRUSILLA and the children arrived to visit Lucas, it did cause some good-natured envy and teasing comments among the trainees, but most members of the unit were fond of Lucas and glad to think his courtship of Drusilla was prospering.
Drusilla had come prepared for the children to learn something from this field trip as well as enjoying a fun picnic outdoors. Besides the large picnic basket, the floater Lucas was pulling held several study tablets, a portable pop up canopy, as well as a folding table and chairs. Rupert had hidden his portable testing gear in with the picnic supplies.
It was unfortunate that they ran into Senior Talker Colson as they were leaving the Talker compound for the rocky beaches where the Dragons nested. An ugly expression crossed his face as he spotted them. Lucas had been proving an obstacle to his plans and he badly wanted to take that young man down a peg or two. After his first attempt to dominate Lucas had failed however, a strong sense of self-preservation had prevented him from trying it again. Pure spite made him decide to take his spleen out on what he thought of as a weak target.
“How dare you bring that monster here,” he shouted, pointing at Violet’s Sand Dragon Jelli in her accustomed place at Violet’s heels. “What if she escapes and attacks someone?”
Violet drew herself up disdainfully and looked him over from his head to his heels. “She isn’t a monster. Jelli won’t attack anyone unless I tell her to do so,” she informed him very much in Katherine’s manner.
“Who taught you manners, girl?” Colson demanded. “How dare you speak to me in that fashion?” He sent an angry pushat the child, trying to frighten her.
Lucas and Drusilla both felt the push, and he stepped forward to intervene, but was checked by Drusilla’s hand on his arm. “Watch,” she said softly and they waited, both of them enjoying Colson’s shock when Violet easily deflected his push.
“Are you responsible for this—this foul mannered child?” Colson asked turning furiously on Drusilla when his attempt to overawe Violet failed.
Drusilla’s eyebrows rose. “Indeed I am, and I can’t agree with you about her manners. Senior Talker Colson, if Lady Violet was truly ill mannered, she would have returned your use of an illicitpushon her quite painfully, but she did not. Shall I convey your apologies to my sister Katherine on your behalf for your attempt to use coercion on one of her children? An action, I might add, that you know very well is against our protocols. Children,” Drusilla’s voice was cool, “this is Senior Talker Colson. He is a teacher here and I am sure he wishes to express his regret for ignoring Talker etiquette by setting such a bad example. I am afraid you will have to excuse us Senior Talker. We are taking a field trip out to see the Sand Dragons. Come along kids.”
She slipped her hand into the one Lucas was holding out to her and turned toward the sounds of the waves crashing onto the rocks, followed obediently by the children. Glancing back, Lucas observed Colson glowering after them in angry impotence. Using some of his new lessons, he scanned Colson’s emotions, reading the man’s powerless rage and hate. He said nothing to Drusilla in front of the children, but he did file it away for future reference.
Once free of the compound, the children raced ahead of them up the hill.
“Why does Colson hate you so much?” Lucas asked her.
Drusilla made a face. “It isn’t just me, it’s all of us. Colson has always had a reputation for—well for developing hero worshipers among some of the students. I was always too close to Mother Liana for him to try it with me, but when Katherine studied here, she discovered that hero worship happened because he was influencing some of the students’ emotions. One of her friends developed such a case on him that she killed herself when he rejected her for another student. Katherine never forgave him and she raised such a stink about it that Mother Liana sent him away to work with the teams exploring Kitzingen. I suppose when he was wounded in the war she had to let him come here.”
The sandy path to the beach where the dragons nested was covered with boulders and small rocks, but a flat area above the cliffs gave a good view of the beach where the dragon cows were teaching their calves to swim. This was important because in the wild the Sand Dragons would swim from Island to Island to find food. Sand Dragons were omnivores, eating a variety of fish, small game, roots and grasses. Hard skin plates resembling scales covered much of their body except their head and underbelly. It had been discovered that like the Quirka the sand dragons were empathetic. If they were exposed to humans as calves they usually developed life-long bonds with them. Like many of the animals native to Vensoog, they could match the color of their coat to their environment.
After setting up the tables and chairs under the portable canopy, Drusilla directed the children to the best place for observation. Jelli lay down sadly beside Violet and put her head in Violet’s lap with a deep sigh. Violet stroked her face and ears consolingly. “I know,” she said softly. “You miss your own mother, don’t you?”
Drusilla knelt beside them. “Does she want to join them?”
Violet shook her head. “She’s just missing her own Mom, but she wouldn’t be welcome down there and she knows it. They aren’t her herd.”
Drusilla patted Violet consolingly on the shoulder. “You are her herd now.”
“Why is that one not swimming?” inquired Roderick, pointing at a Sand Dragon who seemed to be on watch.
“A Sand Dragon herd always has at least one sentinel,” Drusilla explained. “Like the Water Dragons, they need to watch out for the really large Dactyls that hunt them from the air.”
“Are those Dactyls dangerous to humans as well?” Lucas asked.
“Well they can be if they are hungry enough. However, a good hard pushcan drive them away. That’s why Dragon Talkers are in such demand.”
Watched by the curious Dactyls, Rupert had set up his portable testing kit and was explaining to an interested Lucinda how he was going to test the drink in the bottles Lucas handed to him. Both their Dactyls leaned forward to see better as he scanned the water bottles, spreading their hairy wings for balance and cocking their heads to the side in identical gestures of fascination. Dactyls were four legged mammals but they had an additional set of skin covered wings. Unlike Quirka who had short plush coats, the Dactyls fur was long, more like human hair. It was unknown just how intelligent the Vensoog animals were. Although the four Dactyls accompanying the children were small, Dactyls had a wide variety of sizes. Generally, Sand Dragons, Quirka and Dactyls seemed to understand a great deal of human conversation, and were intensely curious about the world around them.
Juliette and Roderick had settled down at the cliff edge beside Violet and Jelli to watch the calves play in the water.
Seeing that the children were now well occupied, Lucas drew Drusilla to the back of the canopy and took out the crystal to show her. “I really need to find out how this works,” he told her, “but I want someone with experience standing by when I open it up.”
She took the green gem in her hands, sending a surface probe into it.
“There is something here,” she admitted, “but it isn’t tuned to me. Here,” she held out the hand holding the gem, “grab onto it with me and try. I’ll anchor you while you do it.”
As soon as his hand touched the gem, a surge of power swept Drusilla up and flung her into a maelstrom of rainbow colored lights. It felt as if the light was actually touching her naked body, leaving her flesh exposed and incredibly sensitive. Frantically she tried to put on the brakes, but only succeeded in slowing down what was happening. Lucas!Her mind screamed reaching for him.
I’m here,his mental voice sounded amazingly calm and he appeared beside her, catching her hand with his own. It’s alright. There’s someone here I want you to meet.
Are you okay? She asked.
He gave a gentle pull and they moved into the heart of the light, where a tall, whitehaired man waited for them.
Taid, this is Drusilla. Drusilla, this is my grandfather, Owen Lewellyn.
The old man he had called Taid peered searchingly into her face. You chose well, he said. Welcome Granddaughter.
What? Who are you?She asked.
The image of Owen Lewellyn laughed. Ah, I see you’re still circling each other. Don’t be afraid of your feelings child.
I cannot stay long Lucas. It is time for you to take my place as the Bard of Lewellyn. The ceremony I performed when you left Gwynedd transferred your heritage to you. It is a powerful one and you were still a child, so I placed a barrier against the power and the teachings until you were old enough to handle them. It is time to release that barrier. He gestured to a wall that had suddenly appeared. It looked as if it was made of river rocks. Taid pointed to a stone in the center. That one, that is the keystone. Touch it and say ‘meddwl agored’, and the wall will come down.
Keeping hold of Drusilla’s hand, Lucas stepped forward, touched the stone and repeated the words. Slowly at first, the stones began to melt and dissolve. A whirlwind of rainbow colored light began to swirl around Lucas, faster and faster, enclosing him. The lights began to look like words, and then sentences written in a foreign language. Lucas stumbled as if he was going to fall and Drusilla stepped into the whirlwind and caught him to steady him. She wobbled too but as she was only being hit by the edge of that storm of knowledge, she could keep them both on their feet. Lucas was receiving the entire load and he sagged against her. Even the edge of it stripped her bare, leaving her whole being raw and sensitized. Her mind and body felt as if their naked bodies were being melded together. She could feel his bare skin pressed against hers and his emotional and sexual arousal just as he felt hers. When his mouth found hers, she answered the need they both felt, opening her lips for his kiss and flinging her arms around his neck. An exquisite tension built between her legs and when he lifted her up against him, she wrapped her legs around his hips. She could feel his swollen shaft against her nether mouth and tightened her legs to bring more pressure. Lucas groaned and rocked her against his engorged manhood, increasing the pleasure they both felt through the psychic link that bound them together. The release came in an intense groundswell of delight that was almost pain, and tiny waves of pleasure echoed through her body for minutes afterward.
When she came back to herself, Drusilla realized Lucas was kneeling, with her on his lap and her legs dangling limply on either side of his. She felt his hand stroking her hair and he pressed a soft kiss on her temple. She buried her face in his neck so she wouldn’t have to look him in the face, but Lucas wasn’t going to allow that. He tilted her chin up so she had to meet his eyes. He was smiling down at her. Hello Darling, he said.
A rush of consternation as well as embarrassment hit Drusilla all at once. Your grandfather—the children—did we just broadcast all that? Are we inside the crystal?
Well, we are sort of inside it, but we’re still sitting under the tree too. He stood and pulled her to her feet. Much as I enjoyed this last part, I think it’s time we got back to the real world.
How?
Close your eyes and concentrate on seeing the crystal.
Obediently Drusilla pictured seeing the crystal in their clasped hands. When she opened her eyes, she was back in the real world and Violet was standing beside them.
Lucas glanced down at himself and then stood up, letting go of her hand as he did. “Ah—I’ll be right back. I need to go and clean up. Or something.” He grabbed a package of hand wipes out of the picnic basket and disappeared around behind a large boulder.
“Are you alright?” Violet asked.
Guiltily Drusilla looked up at the girl. “Oh, Goddess Violet, did you feel all of that? I’m so sorry. It must have been awful—”
Violet shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. As soon as I realized what was happening, Jelli and I shielded all of us.“
“It shouldn’t have happened where you kids could be exposed to it though,” Drusilla said. “I’m so sorry. Katherine is going to kill me—”
“Why is your sister going to kill us?” Lucas had returned.
Drusilla glared at him. “Don’t you realize we pushedeverything that happened out to everyone around us? If Violet hadn’t been able to raise a shield, the children would have lived it right along with us!”
“Allof it?”
“Yes!”
Violet eyed Drusilla critically. “Geeze, don’t be such a drama queen. Jelli helped me shield us so we really didn’t feel anything we shouldn’t.”
“Thank you for your help Violet,” Drusilla said wryly. “You’re quite a kid. Katherine is lucky to have you as a daughter.”
“I’m hungry,” announced Rupert coming up to them. “Can we eat now?”
“That’s a good idea,” Lucas hastily agreed. “While we eat, you can tell me what you found in the bottle.”
“It isn’t pure,” Rupert announced around a mouthful of cold Ostamu, the huge flightless birds raised on Veiled Isle, “But it’s got a lot of the same stuff Submit has in it, so it probably does something similar. I looked up the formula on the City Patrol’s website before we came,” he explained.
Lucas looked over at Drusilla. “I’m going to call Zack. And then I guess we need to talk to Mother Superior when we get back. Colson can’t be allowed to keep drugging trainees.”
She nodded soberly.
Lucas pulled out the com Gideon had given him and contacted the Veiled Isle com center who promised to notify Zack.
WANT TO READ MORE? ORDER HERE
EXCERPT – ALL OUR TOMORROWS
A warrior/priestess teams up with a Bard from another world and genetic “designer” children to defeat a dangerous foe and keep their planet from an off planet takeover.
Lady Drusilla O’Teague, 3rd daughter of a powerful line of psychically gifted women, was trained from birth as warrior and Dragon Talker. She distrusts her own feelings because as child she was unable to shield herself from the seesaw emotions of others.
Lucas Lewellyn is an off-world survivor of the Karamine Wars. He is the hereditary Bard of his people with the ability to compel with his voice, but he is untrained in using his powers. He knows when he meets Drusilla that their destinies are linked, but will she admit it?
Their world of Vensoog is in danger. A prince of the Thieves Guild wants the deposits of Azorite—mighty crystals used to power spaceships and found in large quantities on Vensoog. To save their world, Drusilla and Lucas will need the help of “designer” children built by that same Thieves Guild.
Juliette Jones—created in the Guild’s Geno-Lab to be super smart, ruthless, wily and conniving: the perfect spy. But the Guild never realized they had also given her a loving heart.
Lucinda Karns—daughter of a Thieves Guild Lieutenant, she was given enhanced genes to make her the perfect icy thinker and planner, but those genes sparked a need for balance and gave her a moral compass at odds with her masters’ goals.
Violet Ishimara—constructed with a high degree of empathy to be a tool for the Guild, Her alliance with the Vensoog Sand Dragon Jelli gave her the courage to stand up to her masters.
Rupert, the intuitive chemist, and Roderick, the electronic genius—orphaned twins seen by the Guild as tools to turn into weapons, turned out to be a lot tougher than the Guild expected.
Opening Gambit
SOMETHING was wrong on Talkers Isle. Drusilla had known it almost as soon as she stepped off the shuttle yesterday. This Isle had always been one of her favorite places on Vensoog. It’s aura of peace and tranquility had provided solace to her angst-ridden spirit when she first set foot on it as a child. Now, someone or something, had poisoned that aura and Drusilla was going to make them pay for it.
The acute contrast between the atmosphere today and the feeling when she came here years ago as a traumatized child had been just nasty. When she had come as a child, it had been for further training in controlling the impact of the emotions she picked up from the people around her.
Today when Drusilla had come back to Talker’s Isle to bring some of the clan’s security forces here to take the Dragon Talker training, she had looked forward to immersing herself into the Isle’s peaceful aura for a few days. Apparently, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Alright,” Genevieve said, her voice jerking Drusilla out of her brown study. “Enough brooding. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Can’t you feel it?” Drusilla questioned. “This whole place reeksof despair, dissatisfaction and anger.”
“I’m not a Dragon Talker,” her sister reminded her.
“Trust me, something is very wrong here.”
“Have you discussed this bad feeling with Mother Superior?” Genevieve asked.
Drusilla shook her head. “I don’t think she’s well, Genevieve. I don’t want to distress her. I know something is not right though. When I asked for a volunteer to go out to Veiled Isle, it was almost as if the Talkers were hostile to the idea. When I was training here, teachers used to trip over each other to volunteer for a sweet assignment like that.”
Her sister made a face. “Well I don’t think that sour-mouthed old bat who volunteered will be an asset. Why on earth did you choose her?”
“She was the only one to come forward, Genevieve,” Drusilla reminded her. “I can’t force anyone to come out to the Isle, you know that.”
“So, what are you going to do?” Genevieve inquired. She and Gideon were expecting their first child during the Planting Festival, and Drusilla had noticed she had developed a habit of patting her belly protectively. She did it now.
“Someone needs to find out what is going on, but I can’t stay here and root it out. I promised Katherine I would go back to Veiled Isle and help with tutoring Violet and some of the other children while Mistress Leona is laid up. I think I need to talk to Lucas,” Drusilla said thoughtfully. “He’s going to be here for at least eight weeks and he is a trained investigator. Once we know what is wrong, we can decide what steps to take.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Genevieve remarked, reflecting with hidden amusement that over the past year Drusilla seemed to have developed a lot of confidence in Lucas. I do hope he’s on her List because I think they might make a good match after all, she thought. I’ll have to ask Katherine to check when we go back to Veiled Isle.
Drusilla had met Lucas, who was here to take the training, the first day he had arrived on Vensoog with Genevieve’s husband Gideon. Lucas was Gideon’s foster son and he had emigrated with him when Gideon married Genevieve. Gideon’s marriage to Genevieve, as well as that of many of Gideon’s unit who had chosen to take part in the Handfasting, had been necessary to restore a healthy genetic balance to Vensoog.
Although Drusilla and Lucas had been considered too young to participate, the two of them had spent a lot of time together. Lucas had been the first young man to pay her the kind of attention a man gives an attractive woman, and Drusilla had found herself immediately attracted to Lucas as well. His quirky sense of humor and sturdy common sense had appealed to her. He wasn’t bad looking either. Lucas was tall, with a born rider’s broad shouldered, narrow hipped build, but his body showed the promise of the heavy muscles that would come as he aged. Like his foster father Gideon, he had light hair that he kept short soldier fashion, sharp green eyes and clean cut features.
To Drusilla’s bewilderment and secret delight, Lucas had seemed to be charmed by her person and had spent as much of his time with her as he could manage. Lucas hadn’t been annoying but he had made it obvious he wanted her. She sensed he wasn’t going to be patient with her waffling about deciding forever.
For the past several months he had shown all the signs of a man who wanted more than just friendship, and Drusilla knew she was going to have to decide about her relationship with Lucas soon because the Makers were going to give them their Match Lists at the next Planting Festival.
Behind them, she could hear Genevieve’s two foster daughters, Ceridwen and Bronwen playing with a new litter of Quirka pups. Drusilla’s own Quirka, Toula, nuzzled her ear gently in sympathy with her unease. Quirka were native to Vensoog. They were about the size of a human fist, with thick, mottled yellow fur that changed color to match their environment. Originally making their homes in the trees and living on nuts, berries and insects, Quirkas had become avid hunters of the pests and creepy-crawlies who invaded human dwellings. Their main protection against predators was their retractable, venom tipped quills running down the backbone. They had a large bushy tail used for ballast when leaping from tree to tree. One of their chief attractions to humans though was the life bond they developed with certain men and women.
Leaving Genevieve and the children playing with the Quirka pups, she headed for the student dormitory area. Drusilla spotted Lucas’s tall form in one of the dormitory sections kept for temporary training classes. Tomorrow, she knew the incoming class would begin the rigorous conditioning designed to give them the mental and physical stamina needed to turn them into Dragon Talkers. Tonight however they were given free time to settle in.
When she appeared in the doorway, Lucas immediately came toward her. “I need to speak to you,” she said softly, “Outside.”
This caused some good-natured teasing as he ushered her outside.
“Sorry about that,” he said smiling. “Most of them know I’ve got a special feeling for you. They don’t mean anything by it.”
She waved it away. “Look, there’s something funny going on here on the Isle. I can’t stay and root it out, but since you have to be here anyway, I thought maybe you could look around some.”
If he was disappointed at her reason for seeking him out, it didn’t show in his face. “Sure,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a one-armed hug. “I’ll keep an eye on things for you, but I want a real date when we get to the Festival.”
Drusilla almost stamped her foot in exasperation. “Honestly, is that all you can think about? I tell you there might be trouble brewing and you want to talk about our Match Lists?”
“Well, what is going on here on the Isle is important, but then I think we are too.”
“Oh, alright!” she exclaimed. “We can go to the Introductory Ball together, okay?”
“You got it Darling,” he said, managing to plant a quick kiss on her mouth before walking away. “Oh, by the way” he said over his shoulder, “I was going to keep an eye on things anyway; Gideon already gave me a watching brief on it.”
This time she did stamp her foot. How did he always manage to knock her off balance? No one else did that to her because she didn’t allow it. Somehow though, Lucas always managed it. Despite her irritation at falling for his trick, she watched him walk all the way back to the dormitory, unwillingly admiring the effortless way he moved. She couldn’t help but appreciate his cleverness, despite her irritation because he had tricked her again. Somehow, Lucas roused a response in her physically and emotionally in a way she had never allowed another man to do, and darn it, he hadmanaged to kiss her again. Drusilla sighed in exasperation. The problem wasn’t with Lucas, she admitted. If she hadn’t kissed him back every time, he wouldn’t have reason to think she was falling in love with him. The real trouble, Drusilla acknowledged, was she was afraid he was right. She wasn’t exactly proud of her behavior; it wasn’t fair of her to allow him to kiss her and then push him away. It wasn’t Lucas’s fault she was afraid of the emotion growing between them—she knew was leery of her own power and what a loss of control could mean to others around her.
Irritably, she kicked a pebble off the path back to the guest quarters. She had looked forward to the peace and tranquility she had always found here, but she hadn’t found it on this trip. Yes, someone was going to pay for spoiling Talker’s Isle. Drusilla intended to make sure of it.
Pawn To Kings Four
LUCAS’S FIRST morning on Talker’s Isle started with being rousted out at dawn to run along the rocky shoreline. The beaches on Talker’s Isle were not made of smooth sand but of crushed pebbles intersected with up-thrust outcroppings of rocks, ranging from fist-sized stones to boulders. That made running the beach course set up by their instructor something of a hazard. The calisthenics teacher, Senior Talker Marian, plainly expected her new students to have difficulty with the course. To her surprise, Lucas and the rest of Gideon’s people not only ran the course without stumbling, none of them was out of breath when they finished. Some of the ex-military trainees even had energy left afterwards for a little horseplay.
Marian frowned at them when they ended the run. “You are in remarkably good shape,” she said to Tim Morgan, the leader of the group.
He smiled at her. “That little stretch? The courses we ran in training were twice as long and we carried eighty pound packs and weapons when we did it.”
“I see,” she said. “In that case, let’s start with the run most of our classes finish with. Follow me,” and she took off, running up the cliff trail from the shore. For the next hour, she led them up into the rocky hills above the Talker Compound, and then across the Isle and back down to the beach, ending up just outside the complex, where she stopped and ran in place while she took stock of her new class. They were all in wonderful shape, she admitted, admiring Tim Morgan’s physique as he jogged in place. This group might not be exhausted at the end of this run, but at least they now knew they’d had a workout.
“Okay,” she called, “cool down and then go in and have breakfast. Your first class in how to push and pullwill begin in an hour in classroom four. Your teacher will be Senior Talker Terella.”
After breakfast, Lucas was a little surprised when he entered the room for the next class to find no chairs or desks. The teacher, Senior Talker Terella, must have been in her eighties. She was a wizened figure of a woman with thinning white hair twisted into a knot on the top of her head. However, her bright blue eyes were clear and sharp. For this class, they had each been issued a pair loose pants and a sleeveless pullover top. When he entered the room, Lucas was instructed to take off his shoes and stack them over by a row of woven mats piled against one wall. After everyone had taken a mat, they all lined up in rows with the mats at their feet. Terella walked around the class and shifted some of the trainees to different spots, sorting them (apparently) by the amount of room they might take up lying full length. Once she had the class arranged to her satisfaction, the students were told to step onto the mats. Terella began to lead them in some of the weirdest bending and stretching exercises Lucas had ever seen, let alone tried to perform.
When Terella decided it was time for them to start breathing exercises, Lucas was bent over backwards with his hands flat on the floor. Along with several others, he started to straighten up, and was told to stay in the bent backward position.
With his head hanging upside down, Lucas looked across at Morgan who had ended up in the same position across from him, and made a grimace, getting an eye roll in return. Terella laughed.
“You all are wondering why now we do meditation, yes? Well, to become a talker, you must learn to ignore your body’s sensations and work your mind. For the next ten minutes, I will count and you will breathe in and out. One, breathe in, two, breathe in, three, breathe in, one breathe out….”
When she finished this torture, she had them all sit cross-legged on the mat and repeat the same exercise.
Finally, she told them to sit and listen to the sounds around them, identifying each one silently and then to try to locate where it was coming from without opening their eyes. As he did this exercise, Taid’s crystal began to feel uncomfortably warm against Lucas’s skin. So much so that he finally pulled it out and let it lie against the shirt material instead of his bare skin. Terella noticed his discomfort and came by his station on the mat. She bopped him on the back of the head with the back of her hand. “Focus!” she said sharply. “Ignore the pain!”
When she finally allowed them to open their eyes, she explained to them that they had just undergone their first lesson in finding a pull. A pull, she explained is when you use your third eye to locate things close to you. “Later, we will work on doing a pullat a distance,” she said smiling.
Just before the class broke up, she let each of them feel her touch at the edge of their senses. Again, Lucas could feel the crystal heating up. This time he realized he was seeing Terella’s push as a ray of light yellow color that softly touched each student in the class.
When she dismissed the class to go to lunch, she stopped Lucas as he was about to leave. “Are you alright, My Lord?” she asked.
He nodded, hesitating and then he asked, “Has anyone ever reported seeinga push?”
“No,” she replied, “but I can sense you are unusually gifted in some ways. Could you see something when I pushedthe class just now?”
“Yes. A very soft yellow stream of light touched everyone. This heated up too,” he added, indicating the crystal.
“May I touch it?”
When he nodded consent, she touched the crystal with the tip of a finger and then drew back quickly. “There is a great deal of power locked up in this. Where did you get it?”
“It’s a family heirloom. My grandfather left it with a friend to be passed on to me when I was old enough. It’s supposed to help me assume my family legacy,” he said, tucking the now cool crystal back inside his shirt.
“I suggest you be very careful when you open it up,” she warned him. “As I said, it’s very powerful. However, it seems to be tuned to you in some fashion so that should provide some measure of safety. Yellow did you say? Hummm…”
Lucas left, determined to do some research about his grandfather’s gift in his first spare minute. As it happened though, he didn’t have many spare minutes for the rest of the day.
The afternoon teacher was a man named Gerard Colson who insisted they address him as Senior Talker Colson, a formality none of the other teachers had bothered with. Colson was a tall, thin man with a narrow, long-jawed face. A plume of shiny black hair fell romantically over his forehead. It was obvious within the first few minutes of class that the Senior Talker didn’t believe this class had any worthy students.
“To be a Dragon Talker,” Colson stated arrogantly, “you must be able to focus your mind on the dragon’s emotions and tune out distractions. I doubt many of you will be able to do this, especially coming from a military background, but we’ll see.”
The next thing he did was slam a hard pushof embarrassment and unworthiness straight at Lucas whom he apparently thought would be the weakest of the group. Lucas could see a wide black band push outward from Colson, and he could feel the pressure of the pushlike a physical blow. Taid’s gift flashed white hot, and when Lucas instinctively grabbed the front of his shirt to pull the crystal away from his skin, he found he could shove back at the negative feelings. As he pushedback, he could see the black wave beginning to turn grey. Gradually, the grey grew lighter and then began to creep back along the wave toward Colson. Colson staggered, catching himself on the edge of the teacher’s desk in the front of the room.
Giving Lucas a shocked look, Colson abruptly cut off pushbefore the counter wave of light Lucas was generating reached him. He was very careful after that first attempt not to try to overpower Lucas when he pushedat him during the rest of the class. He said nothing about it however. No one had bothered to tell Colson that all the men and women taking this class had first been vetted by Drusilla to make sure they could handle the training. He became visibly more irate as the class progressed.
Lucas found the last class of the day self-defense and weapon handling, in particular, the Force Wand, a relief. Having seen one in action on Fenris, he already knew that a Vensoog Force Wand was made of titanium/steel, covered in the Rainbow tree hardwood.
“This is a standard Force Wand,” the teacher, a tough, wiry woman with a shock of short cut brown hair, informed them. “You will keep this one as long as you are here on Talker’s Isle. Once you graduate, you may want to have one made especially for you.”
“Watch this and do as I show you.” She held hers out with her right hand gripping the center handle, and pressed a raised crystal in the center with her thumb. “Most wands will extend to around four feet, which is the optimum length for close in fighting. Tap the same button twice and it will retract.”
She held one of the ends up so they could see it. “This end carries a knife which can be used for thrusting. I do not recommend using it unless your life is threatened; however, it is useful for cutting free a Dragon caught in rope or sea strands.” She touched another of the raised crystals and a four-inch blade snapped out. She walked up and down the line, making them repeat her actions until she was satisfied they could extend and retract the wand and the blade.
Holding up the wand, which she held by the handle in the middle, she showed them how to move the power dial. “If a Dragon is particularly ornery, or stubborn, we sometimes find it necessary to provide an incentive, so the other end of your wand, is a shock stick. Before we are through, each of you will touch himself with it set on the mildest setting. The maximum setting, designed for use on the larger water dragons, is fatal to humans.”
The class spent the next few minutes playing with the adjustments on that end of the wand. Lucas found even the mild setting unpleasant. He remembered that Lady Katherine had in fact killed two of the thugs attacking her children with her wand, so he was very careful with his. Unfortunately, a couple of the others were seized with the urge to show off, and ended up burned by their own wands. Afterwards, when Lucas asked Senior Talker Loretta why she hadn’t stopped the two students, she smiled. “Some are more hard-headed than others and must learn by doing.”
The class wasn’t just physical. Loretta assigned the students to spend the last half of the class Reading up on the history of the Talkers. Here, Lucas found the Wands had been developed after it had been realized that unscrupulous clansmen would sometimes attempt to strong-arm Dragon Talkers to pushboth people and dragons into committing illegal or sometimes even dangerous acts. If the Talker could fend off most physical attacks, it discouraged this type of coercion.
That evening, Lucas realized he wasn’t going to be able to find any privacy to really open up Taid’s crystal and study its properties; the constant movement and talk of his bunkmates was too distracting and he did notwant an audience when he explored it.
However, he felt what Drusilla had termed the ‘miasma of discontent’ that seemed to pervade the entire island. Even Gideon’s Talker unit had been affected; everyone was short-tempered and seemed to take offense much easier than they had before they came here. Both he and Tim Morgan reported it to Lord Zack on their nightly after hour’s reports.
Lord Zack had been put in charge of security on Veiled Isle, the closest of the Laird’s territories to Talker’s Isle. The rest of the team knew Lucas and Morgan were going out after the trainees’ curfew check, but they knew the pair had been chased with a task to look for something so the class ignored it.
When Gideon had asked him to keep an eye out for anything suspicious on Talker’s Isle, he had been glad to do it. Getting Drusilla to promise him a real date on their first official function during the Festival had just been a bonus. She had kissed him back too; although it was plain her own response bothered her for some reason.
During their third week on the Isle, Colson suddenly began bringing the unit a special morning drink that he said contained unique vitamins and minerals to help them survive the training. When Lucas took his first sip of it, the crystal Taid had given him got very hot against his skin and he was hit by a wave of nausea and a blinding headache. He barely made it to the bathroom and immediately threw up what he had swallowed. Not wanting to make a big deal of it, he hid the nearly full bottle in his footlocker.
His nausea and headache subsided during the usual grueling morning workout. He ate the high-protein breakfast provided for the trainees with a good appetite, suffered through Terella’s meditation exercises, and then went to the second class.
Of the two, he preferred Terella’s teachings to that of Senior Talker Colson. This morning Colson opened class with a discussion about the Clan system of government. Colson’s usual method of teaching them had been to start controversial discussions to distract them while he poked at them with a push. This morning, he kept urging the trainees to agree that it was unfair to exclude certain segments of the population from inheriting property or titles. Lucas could feel the man using an intense pushto generate feelings of resentment and anger. A Push, Lucas had learned in training, was what the Clans of Vensoog called this method used to influence others. Looking around, he could see that most of the class seemed to be allowing themselves to yield to the unpleasant emotions Colson’s pushgenerated. Since he knew Gideon’s people to be both stubborn and hard to influence, Lucas suspected some outside factor had to be involved in their too easy transition to resentment. It had to have been the drink. Taid’s crystal had caused him to throw up, he decided. Obviously, the crystal had the ability to detect harmful materials he ate or drank.
As Colson’s pushgrew stronger, Taid’s crystal began heating up again and Lucas could see the negative emotions being pushedby Colson as dark rays of color that touched everyone and everything. Instinctively, Lucas touched the crystal under his shirt and felt a surge of power lessening the influence behind Colson’s push. Not liking the angry feelings around him, Lucas instinctively pushedback against them hard enough to block it for himself and the others. As he did so, he could see his own pushshifting the dark colored rays to a lighter hue.
Colson glared around, attempting to locate who was causing the change in the atmosphere he had been creating. He finally fixed on Lucas. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, advancing on Lucas with a scowl.
Lucas shrugged and did his best to look innocent. “I don’t know what you mean. I think that the clan system seems to be working just fine, is all.” As he spoke, he again pusheda positive feeling out into the room spreading an even lighter wave of color that touched everyone but Colson. To his astonishment, several of the class who voiced agreement with Colson, now spoke up to disagree with him. Tight-lipped with anger, Colson abruptly ended the lesson.
He was going to have to find out exactly what Taid’s crystal was and how to use it, Lucas decided grimly. Gideon had said it was some kind of psychic teaching tool, but after Terella’s warning, he had been reluctant to explore it without someone to watch his back while he did so. Drusilla was the most experienced psychic he knew and she had asked him to look into things here on the Isle. If he asked her to make an excuse to return they could discuss a time and place for him to really open up the crystal and find out what he needed to learn. At last, he had something to report to Lord Zack. Because of Veiled Isle’s proximity to Talker’s Isle, Gideon had asked Zack to receive any communications about what was wrong on Talker’s Isle.
At least Lucas now had a concrete suspicion to report about what was causing the disaffection on the Isle. Zack could pass the information on to Warlord Gideon.
The next morning before Colson had a chance to bring in any more of his special drink, Lucas told Morgan that he thought there had been something in the ‘vitamin’ cocktail that had helped Colson manipulate the class’s emotions. Morgan frowned, but he had been one of the few in the class Colson hadn’t been able to influence easily and he agreed to tell everyone not to drink it. Morgan had been a staff Sargent in the unit during the war so it was natural for the rest of Gideon’s trainees to obey him.
This time when Colson started a critical discussion of the clan system, the entire class had been forewarned and most of them were able to recognize the pushfor an attempt to influence them and successfully resisted. Those that had difficulty withstanding it were assisted by their companions. Colson left the class after a few biting comments concerning their inability to use what he was attempting to teach them.
That night after lights out, Lucas and Morgan slipped out of the dormitory to contact Zack. They had been giving nightly reports, but until now, there had been nothing but vague feelings of disquiet to report.
“Well, now,” Zack observed when they had reported their suspicions. “I certainly think that stuff needs to be tested. Did you keep any of it?”
“Yes,” Lucas answered. “We both have the bottle that was given out this morning and I have part of yesterdays. How do you want us to get the sample to you?”
“Neither of you can interrupt your training to bring it here without alerting Colson so I think it will be best if I send someone over to you to test it instead,” Zack responded. A thought occurred to him and he grinned. “I’m going to send someone this guy Colson won’t suspect.”
Morgan’s eyebrows rose. “Who did you have in mind?”
Zack’s smile turned feral. “It’s time Lucas got a visit from his girl. Drusilla was just saying that the new Sand Dragon calves should be appearing with their mothers. She was talking about taking the kids on a field trip over there to see them. If she arranges for the trip to happen on your rest day, Lucas can go with her to help ‘supervise’ the kids. Rupert can test the stuff in the bottle while you’re away from the area. No one will suspect a thing.”
“Who is Rupert?” inquired Morgan.
“Rupert is my nephew,” Zack explained. “Katherine had all the kids’ skills and aptitudes tested back on Fenris and I understand he tested out over level three hundred in chemistry. The kid’s good, trust me. He’ll be able to tell if Colson added something like Submit to the drink.”
“A kidtested out over three hundred?” Morgan asked. “That’s master level.”
“It sure is,” Zack said proudly.
“Wow. Well, our next rest day is the day after tomorrow,” responded Morgan. “Having Lady Drusilla come over with the children is a good idea; that way everyone will just think Lucas is getting a booty call.”
“Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Lucas,” Zack said grinning. “Business first—courting later.”
“That covers quite a lot of territory,” Lucas retorted smartly.
The Bard Of Lewellyn
WHEN DRUSILLA and the children arrived to visit Lucas, it did cause some good-natured envy and teasing comments among the trainees, but most members of the unit were fond of Lucas and glad to think his courtship of Drusilla was prospering.
Drusilla had come prepared for the children to learn something from this field trip as well as enjoying a fun picnic outdoors. Besides the large picnic basket, the floater Lucas was pulling held several study tablets, a portable pop up canopy, as well as a folding table and chairs. Rupert had hidden his portable testing gear in with the picnic supplies.
It was unfortunate that they ran into Senior Talker Colson as they were leaving the Talker compound for the rocky beaches where the Dragons nested. An ugly expression crossed his face as he spotted them. Lucas had been proving an obstacle to his plans and he badly wanted to take that young man down a peg or two. After his first attempt to dominate Lucas had failed however, a strong sense of self-preservation had prevented him from trying it again. Pure spite made him decide to take his spleen out on what he thought of as a weak target.
“How dare you bring that monster here,” he shouted, pointing at Violet’s Sand Dragon Jelli in her accustomed place at Violet’s heels. “What if she escapes and attacks someone?”
Violet drew herself up disdainfully and looked him over from his head to his heels. “She isn’t a monster. Jelli won’t attack anyone unless I tell her to do so,” she informed him very much in Katherine’s manner.
“Who taught you manners, girl?” Colson demanded. “How dare you speak to me in that fashion?” He sent an angry pushat the child, trying to frighten her.
Lucas and Drusilla both felt the push, and he stepped forward to intervene, but was checked by Drusilla’s hand on his arm. “Watch,” she said softly and they waited, both of them enjoying Colson’s shock when Violet easily deflected his push.
“Are you responsible for this—this foul mannered child?” Colson asked turning furiously on Drusilla when his attempt to overawe Violet failed.
Drusilla’s eyebrows rose. “Indeed I am, and I can’t agree with you about her manners. Senior Talker Colson, if Lady Violet was truly ill mannered, she would have returned your use of an illicitpushon her quite painfully, but she did not. Shall I convey your apologies to my sister Katherine on your behalf for your attempt to use coercion on one of her children? An action, I might add, that you know very well is against our protocols. Children,” Drusilla’s voice was cool, “this is Senior Talker Colson. He is a teacher here and I am sure he wishes to express his regret for ignoring Talker etiquette by setting such a bad example. I am afraid you will have to excuse us Senior Talker. We are taking a field trip out to see the Sand Dragons. Come along kids.”
She slipped her hand into the one Lucas was holding out to her and turned toward the sounds of the waves crashing onto the rocks, followed obediently by the children. Glancing back, Lucas observed Colson glowering after them in angry impotence. Using some of his new lessons, he scanned Colson’s emotions, reading the man’s powerless rage and hate. He said nothing to Drusilla in front of the children, but he did file it away for future reference.
Once free of the compound, the children raced ahead of them up the hill.
“Why does Colson hate you so much?” Lucas asked her.
Drusilla made a face. “It isn’t just me, it’s all of us. Colson has always had a reputation for—well for developing hero worshipers among some of the students. I was always too close to Mother Liana for him to try it with me, but when Katherine studied here, she discovered that hero worship happened because he was influencing some of the students’ emotions. One of her friends developed such a case on him that she killed herself when he rejected her for another student. Katherine never forgave him and she raised such a stink about it that Mother Liana sent him away to work with the teams exploring Kitzingen. I suppose when he was wounded in the war she had to let him come here.”
The sandy path to the beach where the dragons nested was covered with boulders and small rocks, but a flat area above the cliffs gave a good view of the beach where the dragon cows were teaching their calves to swim. This was important because in the wild the Sand Dragons would swim from Island to Island to find food. Sand Dragons were omnivores, eating a variety of fish, small game, roots and grasses. Hard skin plates resembling scales covered much of their body except their head and underbelly. It had been discovered that like the Quirka the sand dragons were empathetic. If they were exposed to humans as calves they usually developed life-long bonds with them. Like many of the animals native to Vensoog, they could match the color of their coat to their environment.
After setting up the tables and chairs under the portable canopy, Drusilla directed the children to the best place for observation. Jelli lay down sadly beside Violet and put her head in Violet’s lap with a deep sigh. Violet stroked her face and ears consolingly. “I know,” she said softly. “You miss your own mother, don’t you?”
Drusilla knelt beside them. “Does she want to join them?”
Violet shook her head. “She’s just missing her own Mom, but she wouldn’t be welcome down there and she knows it. They aren’t her herd.”
Drusilla patted Violet consolingly on the shoulder. “You are her herd now.”
“Why is that one not swimming?” inquired Roderick, pointing at a Sand Dragon who seemed to be on watch.
“A Sand Dragon herd always has at least one sentinel,” Drusilla explained. “Like the Water Dragons, they need to watch out for the really large Dactyls that hunt them from the air.”
“Are those Dactyls dangerous to humans as well?” Lucas asked.
“Well they can be if they are hungry enough. However, a good hard pushcan drive them away. That’s why Dragon Talkers are in such demand.”
Watched by the curious Dactyls, Rupert had set up his portable testing kit and was explaining to an interested Lucinda how he was going to test the drink in the bottles Lucas handed to him. Both their Dactyls leaned forward to see better as he scanned the water bottles, spreading their hairy wings for balance and cocking their heads to the side in identical gestures of fascination. Dactyls were four legged mammals but they had an additional set of skin covered wings. Unlike Quirka who had short plush coats, the Dactyls fur was long, more like human hair. It was unknown just how intelligent the Vensoog animals were. Although the four Dactyls accompanying the children were small, Dactyls had a wide variety of sizes. Generally, Sand Dragons, Quirka and Dactyls seemed to understand a great deal of human conversation, and were intensely curious about the world around them.
Juliette and Roderick had settled down at the cliff edge beside Violet and Jelli to watch the calves play in the water.
Seeing that the children were now well occupied, Lucas drew Drusilla to the back of the canopy and took out the crystal to show her. “I really need to find out how this works,” he told her, “but I want someone with experience standing by when I open it up.”
She took the green gem in her hands, sending a surface probe into it.
“There is something here,” she admitted, “but it isn’t tuned to me. Here,” she held out the hand holding the gem, “grab onto it with me and try. I’ll anchor you while you do it.”
As soon as his hand touched the gem, a surge of power swept Drusilla up and flung her into a maelstrom of rainbow colored lights. It felt as if the light was actually touching her naked body, leaving her flesh exposed and incredibly sensitive. Frantically she tried to put on the brakes, but only succeeded in slowing down what was happening. Lucas!Her mind screamed reaching for him.
I’m here,his mental voice sounded amazingly calm and he appeared beside her, catching her hand with his own. It’s alright. There’s someone here I want you to meet.
Are you okay? She asked.
He gave a gentle pull and they moved into the heart of the light, where a tall, whitehaired man waited for them.
Taid, this is Drusilla. Drusilla, this is my grandfather, Owen Lewellyn.
The old man he had called Taid peered searchingly into her face. You chose well, he said. Welcome Granddaughter.
What? Who are you?She asked.
The image of Owen Lewellyn laughed. Ah, I see you’re still circling each other. Don’t be afraid of your feelings child.
I cannot stay long Lucas. It is time for you to take my place as the Bard of Lewellyn. The ceremony I performed when you left Gwynedd transferred your heritage to you. It is a powerful one and you were still a child, so I placed a barrier against the power and the teachings until you were old enough to handle them. It is time to release that barrier. He gestured to a wall that had suddenly appeared. It looked as if it was made of river rocks. Taid pointed to a stone in the center. That one, that is the keystone. Touch it and say ‘meddwl agored’, and the wall will come down.
Keeping hold of Drusilla’s hand, Lucas stepped forward, touched the stone and repeated the words. Slowly at first, the stones began to melt and dissolve. A whirlwind of rainbow colored light began to swirl around Lucas, faster and faster, enclosing him. The lights began to look like words, and then sentences written in a foreign language. Lucas stumbled as if he was going to fall and Drusilla stepped into the whirlwind and caught him to steady him. She wobbled too but as she was only being hit by the edge of that storm of knowledge, she could keep them both on their feet. Lucas was receiving the entire load and he sagged against her. Even the edge of it stripped her bare, leaving her whole being raw and sensitized. Her mind and body felt as if their naked bodies were being melded together. She could feel his bare skin pressed against hers and his emotional and sexual arousal just as he felt hers. When his mouth found hers, she answered the need they both felt, opening her lips for his kiss and flinging her arms around his neck. An exquisite tension built between her legs and when he lifted her up against him, she wrapped her legs around his hips. She could feel his swollen shaft against her nether mouth and tightened her legs to bring more pressure. Lucas groaned and rocked her against his engorged manhood, increasing the pleasure they both felt through the psychic link that bound them together. The release came in an intense groundswell of delight that was almost pain, and tiny waves of pleasure echoed through her body for minutes afterward.
When she came back to herself, Drusilla realized Lucas was kneeling, with her on his lap and her legs dangling limply on either side of his. She felt his hand stroking her hair and he pressed a soft kiss on her temple. She buried her face in his neck so she wouldn’t have to look him in the face, but Lucas wasn’t going to allow that. He tilted her chin up so she had to meet his eyes. He was smiling down at her. Hello Darling, he said.
A rush of consternation as well as embarrassment hit Drusilla all at once. Your grandfather—the children—did we just broadcast all that? Are we inside the crystal?
Well, we are sort of inside it, but we’re still sitting under the tree too. He stood and pulled her to her feet. Much as I enjoyed this last part, I think it’s time we got back to the real world.
How?
Close your eyes and concentrate on seeing the crystal.
Obediently Drusilla pictured seeing the crystal in their clasped hands. When she opened her eyes, she was back in the real world and Violet was standing beside them.
Lucas glanced down at himself and then stood up, letting go of her hand as he did. “Ah—I’ll be right back. I need to go and clean up. Or something.” He grabbed a package of hand wipes out of the picnic basket and disappeared around behind a large boulder.
“Are you alright?” Violet asked.
Guiltily Drusilla looked up at the girl. “Oh, Goddess Violet, did you feel all of that? I’m so sorry. It must have been awful—”
Violet shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. As soon as I realized what was happening, Jelli and I shielded all of us.“
“It shouldn’t have happened where you kids could be exposed to it though,” Drusilla said. “I’m so sorry. Katherine is going to kill me—”
“Why is your sister going to kill us?” Lucas had returned.
Drusilla glared at him. “Don’t you realize we pushedeverything that happened out to everyone around us? If Violet hadn’t been able to raise a shield, the children would have lived it right along with us!”
“Allof it?”
“Yes!”
Violet eyed Drusilla critically. “Geeze, don’t be such a drama queen. Jelli helped me shield us so we really didn’t feel anything we shouldn’t.”
“Thank you for your help Violet,” Drusilla said wryly. “You’re quite a kid. Katherine is lucky to have you as a daughter.”
“I’m hungry,” announced Rupert coming up to them. “Can we eat now?”
“That’s a good idea,” Lucas hastily agreed. “While we eat, you can tell me what you found in the bottle.”
“It isn’t pure,” Rupert announced around a mouthful of cold Ostamu, the huge flightless birds raised on Veiled Isle, “But it’s got a lot of the same stuff Submit has in it, so it probably does something similar. I looked up the formula on the City Patrol’s website before we came,” he explained.
Lucas looked over at Drusilla. “I’m going to call Zack. And then I guess we need to talk to Mother Superior when we get back. Colson can’t be allowed to keep drugging trainees.”
She nodded soberly.
Lucas pulled out the com Gideon had given him and contacted the Veiled Isle com center who promised to notify Zack.
WANT TO READ MORE? ORDER HERE
August 28, 2019
Sale! Save Money! Get Copies of The Handfasting Books While They Last!
I spent a lot time writing the Handfasting series. It’s a science fiction series about a family (Clan) living on an alien planet (Vensoog), and the challenges they face to survive. The books garnered a few sales, but they are not doing as well as their quality merit. I consulted a few experts and I was told that the titles I had used belong in the Romance Category, not science fiction. In actual fact, the books cross both genres, but I was advised to direct my campaign at one or the other of the two genres. I chose Science Fiction, because I felt that is where the books actually belong.
In October, I will be withdrawing the Handfasting series from publication. In order to clear out my inventory I am putting the Handfasting series on sale until October 1, 2019. All e-books will retail for 99¢ on all stores where it is found (Amazon, Kobo, Nook, I-Books, etc) Click here for more information: https://books2read.com/ap/n41KK8/Gail-Daley
The paperback pricing will also be at a discount, but that will vary depending on which site you patronize. My own website Http://www.gaildaleysfineart.com will have the books at $8.59 and you will have the bonus of getting signed copies.
Beginning On November 1, 2019, The series will be retitled Space Colony Journals and all the books (except the last Alien Trails) will receive new titles to better appeal to science fiction readers.
I will have the paperback copies with me during the Friends of Madera County Library Author’s day on October 19, 2019. It is a Saturday. The library is open from 10am-3pm. The library address is 121 N. G Street, Madera, CA 93637. I hope those of you living in Fresno and Madera Counties will join me and the other local authors there. I will also have some advance copies of Alien Trails (book 6 in the Space Colony Journals series) with me.
Handfasting Title Space Colony Journals
A Year & A Day Options of Survival
Forever & A Day Destiny Rising
All Our Tomorrows Tomorrows Legacy
From This Day Forward The Interstellar Jewel Heist
To Love & Honor The Designer People
Alien Trails Alien Trails
August 27, 2019
Excerpt: Destiny Rising
GENEVIEVE, Laird of the O’Teague Clan, stood on the terrace of her room in the original O’Teague Manor and looked towards the spaceport. It couldn’t be seen from here yet she knew it was there and felt its presence like a lead weight on her heart. She grimaced. Today was her last day as an unmarried woman. Tomorrow, the ship Dancing Gryphon would begin unloading its passengers and cargo. Her younger sister Katherine would be bringing down the man who was going to be sharing her life and her bed for the next year. Although she knew and accepted the necessity for the coming Handfasting, she had hidden her inner reluctance from Katherine, whose plan it had been, and from her clan who were depending on her for leadership.
When the Karamine biogenetic weapon struck Vensoog in the final three years of the war killing or sterilizing all the male humans, it had been a devastating blow to the two-hundred-year-old colony. Since the Karaminetes only used the bio-bomb on planets they planned to resettle, the virus had a very short life span and soon dissipated.
Two years later, the treaty declaring peace was signed and the Confederated Worlds began the slow road to recovery. It did not take the Vensoog Clans long to realize they were in deep trouble. The additional loss of most of the men and woman on the five ships supplied to the war effort by the Vensoog Clans had only worsened the problem created by the bioweapon. With no additional children being born, the colony population would die out within three to four generations.
Genevieve’s younger sister Katherine had come up with a solution to the dilemma. The planet needed a fresh supply of healthy sperm to maintain a good genetic balance. Since the Vensoog people shunned the cloning of humans, Katherine had concluded they needed a fresh batch of male colonists. Vensoog had been lucky in that they still had a viable planetary ecosystem; a few planets had simply been burned off, leaving thousands of souls homeless. Since the weapon seemed to have had a very short shelf life, bringing in a fresh supply of genetic material should solve the problem. In accordance with Katherine’s plan, she and her Aunt Corrine had gone to Fenris, where most of the returning soldiers from this area were being decommissioned and offered them a new home, providing they were willing to join one of the Vensoog Clans by entering a ‘Year And A Day’ Handfasting rite with a suitable Vensoog woman. Or if the new immigrant didn’t want to be matched for some reason they could choose to supply sperm or ova (if the soldier happened to be female) for the planetary genetic banks. These Donations would be later developed into embryos and implanted in living volunteers. Tomorrow Katherine and representatives from the other Clans would be returning home with the first round of new immigrants.
To persuade their fellow clanswomen to participate, both Katherine and Genevieve had signed up to be Handfasted. Showing the strength of their confidence and belief in the program by signing up for it inspired the young women of the Clan to participate. Katherine’s Handfasting program, unlike the previous Match program used by the Makers was designed to pair couples not just for genetic diversity, but the personality and lifestyles of the women with their prospective husbands, thus ensuring a happy joining. The couples would be joined for a Year And A Day, after which they could dissolve the union or opt for the ‘Forever And A Day’ Handfasting Ceremony, which was a lifetime commitment. Not all the new immigrants were male, some of the returning soldiers had been women and they too were offered Clan membership. Those immigrants already in committed relationships had been offered full clan membership for their families as well, but they were expected to Donate to the planetary banks. The sperm or ova would later be combined, as the Maker Program deemed suitable to create children. The donors could raise the children if they chose, but the most common situation was for the children to be adopted by childless clan members.
Genevieve had a great deal of faith in her sister’s programming skills, but she knew the kind of bad boy traits she had been attracted to in the past would not make a suitable husband in the long run, and probably not in the short term either. To rule wisely, she needed the kind of man who would prove a good counterbalance for her. She needed and wanted the kind of partnership she had seen in her parents before their deaths. She didn’t need another handsome, selfish charmer in her life. Don’t be such a wuss she chastised herself. This man won’t be like Gregor. You’re older and wiser now and Katherine’s program would have taken into account what she needed wouldn’t it? Genevieve studied the image of Gideon Michaels on her personal com. He certainly didn’t look like a man who depended on his charm or looks to get by. He wasn’t bad looking, but his blunt features held both strength and determination. His face showed none of the wild recklessness that had characterized Gregor Ivanov.
Maybe it would be all right, she thought hopefully. She needed a good, solid man who would come to care for the Clan as much as she did she reminded herself, and going by the steady set of Gideon’s eyes and the firm set of his mouth under that beak of a nose, Katherine had provided that. Genevieve knew that many of the Clan thought she still mourned the loss of the wild young man from the neighboring clan who had so nearly charmed her into marriage. Well, what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them, she thought wryly.
The scent of the river and the soft breeze of the cooling summer night caused eleven years to drop away and she was again that seventeen-year-old girl facing the man she might have loved and refusing to elope with him and abandon her people and Vensoog to the mercies of the Karamites. It had been a shock to realize Gregor didn’t care what happened to her or Clan O’Teague if he wasn’t going to rule. She had stared at him in disbelief and horror when she recognized that he had fully intended to take over the Clan when they married, regulating her to an insignificant nothing. Gregor had apparently intended to use her status as Laird of O’Teague as a steppingstone to conquer the rest of Vensoog and overthrow the current Matriarchal Clan system. When the war disrupted his plans, he had decided to run rather than stay and defend Vensoog from the Karamines.
At the beginning of the war, the Parliamentary Council had announced that as a member of the Confederated Worlds, Vensoog was requested to supply both resources and staffing for five troop ships, which they had done. Genevieve’s father had commanded one of them. The Blackhand, Gregor’s ship in orbit, was not on the list of ships provided by Vensoog. In fact, Genevieve had begun to suspect that the Blackhands crew was responsible for the recent raiding of outlying O’Teague farms. What’s more, she had discovered that Gregor knew something about the raids he wasn’t sharing with his Grand Duke, but she had no proof of anything and she had been reluctant to admit she could have been so wrong about him. When Gregor had come back tonight to ask her to escape with him on the Blackhand, he told her that as first officer he could guarantee her a place aboard ship. She had refused and in the end, she had used her special talentagainst him to keep him from forcing her to go with him. When he realized she meant what she said, he had damned her as he went to join the crew of the shuttle waiting for him. As a final insult, he had shot into her airsled, trapping her ten miles from the nearest homestead and preventing her from warning anyone about the coming raid.
Her youngest sister Drusilla burst in abruptly jerking her thoughts back to the present.
“Aren’t you getting ready yet? We have that banquet in Port Recovery tonight with the other Clan chiefs and we need to leave in about an hour.”
Genevieve smiled at her. Drusilla was turning into a lovely young woman. Drusilla had very ably taken over the management of O’Teague lands while Genevieve had been attending Katherine’s seat in Parliament. She had organized tomorrow’s ceremony and the journey back to Glass Isle. Much tinier than Genevieve, she still had the family red hair and grey eyes.
“I’ll be ready when it’s time. I was just thinking,” Genevieve replied. “Is that what you’re planning to wear?”
“Why not? I’m just the youngest sister, I don’t have to intimidate or impress anyone tonight,” Drusilla replied. At sixteen, her fresh face was bare of makeup, and she had yet to put her short dark red hair into the elaborate hairstyles favored by the elite of the Clans.
“Oh no, you don’t,” retorted her sister. “It’s time you took your place among us as a woman of power. You planned and organized all of this. You should take credit for it. Come on, I think I have a gown that will become you and Mary will dress your hair.”
As the sisters dressed, Genevieve reminded Drusilla she needed to speak privately to LaDoña DeMedici so she could pass on the message Katherine had sent.
“Do you think she will listen?” asked Drusilla doubtfully. “Isn’t it kind of a criticism of Doña Sabina? I mean we’ll be sort of implying she can’t handle the job, aren’t we?”
Genevieve smiled at her approvingly. “That’s a very astute observation. For that reason, I intend to speak to her alone and be as tactful as I can. I intend to hand her the crystal Katherine sent and urge her to listen to it in private. I want everyone to have eyes on you and not notice when I do it.”
Once dressed, the two sisters stood in front of the mirror in Genevieve’s dressing room examining their appearance. For Drusilla’s first public appearance as an adult, Genevieve had put her into brilliant white with a dragon silk, off the shoulder blouse and dressed her dark red hair with small white flowers. The fitted girdle cupping her full breasts was white as were the loose pants and filmy knee-length skirt split up each side to her hips. The only touches of color were the opalescent pendant of the Dragon Talkers, which she was entitled to wear, and a pair of red quartz drop earrings. Drusilla most certainly didn’t look like a child tonight. Her Quirka, Toula who accompanied her everywhere, had been provided with a jeweled collar in matching stones.
Genevieve herself had dressed in her favorite dark green in the same style, and she had wound her fiery red hair into a neat chignon held in place by the golden diadem of her office as Laird. She had been amused when Gorla, her own Quirka had insisted on picking through her jewelry box for a suitable bracelet to wear as a collar.
Seeing the stunned look on her baby sister’s face when she caught her first glimpse of her mirrored image, Genevieve chuckled. “You aren’t a little girl anymore so get used to it, sweetie. Next Planting Festival the Makers will be giving you your Match List and I predict you’ll need to beat the young men off with a stick. I know there isn’t much to choose from right now, but we will be getting some new families joining the clan this time as well as Katherine’s soldiers; perhaps there will be some young men your age. Even if there are no one you like in this round of immigrants, there might be someone in the next wave. This won’t be the last group of displaced colonists to take advantage of our offer you know. Katherine left the program running on Fenris.” She frowned, thinking she still had to choose a suitable clanswoman to administer the program on Fenris as well as the other three planets where displaced refugees were being kept.
“Are you nervous Genevieve? I mean about meeting—ah—Gideon, wasn’t it?” Drusilla asked.
Genevieve’s smile turned wry. “Yes, I am, I suppose. I have a lot of faith in Katherine’s programming skills, but you may not remember that I don’t have a very good track record in choosing men.”
Drusilla glanced at her speculatively, “That wasn’t your fault. I know what he did.”
“I knew what he was doing too,” her sister said grimly. “I just couldn’t seem to break free of him until the last, and I had help to do that, didn’t I?”
Drusilla looked a little self-conscious. “You would have done it on your own eventually. You were fighting it.”
“Yes, but maybe not before he managed to drag me aboard that ship.”
“That wasn’t going to happen,” Drusilla said firmly.
“Well, it’s in the past. Better to forget it and move on,” Genevieve agreed.
The next day, Genevieve and Drusilla waited in the arrival dome in Port Recovery for the first set of the new colonists to arrive. Because she had wanted a look at Lewiston, Genevieve had arranged for them to be there in time to see the DeMedici party arrive.
“He looks like a vid hero,” Drusilla whispered to her as they watched him escort Doña Sabina through the doors.
“Yes,” Genevieve replied dryly, “all flash and no substance.” Just as Gregor had proved to be, she added mentally. If Katherine’s information about Lewiston’s plans was correct though he might prove a much more formidable opponent that Gregor ever was. While they waited, she continued to watch him out of the corner of her eye to see if she could learn more of his intentions.
Their small party watched the first wave of the DeMedici’s leave the dome and the Yang’s arrive. Lewiston and Doña Sabina however, stayed around, obviously waiting on something.
“They look like tough customers,” Drusilla remarked to her after seeing the contingent of men, women and families arriving with Nü-Huang Toshi Ishimara.
“Well, they are soldiers,” Genevieve retorted, “not really surprising they’d look like it. I’m glad Toshi Ishimara recruited families the way we did. Did you happen to notice that there weren’t any children with Lewiston’s group?”
“I wonder, is that because Doña Sabina refused to bring them or because Lewiston didn’t want them?”
“I doubt if she would have refused. It’s more likely Lewiston thought families would be a liability to his plans.”
About a half hour later, Katherine and Zack walked through the doors with the first party of their new clan members.
Genevieve was only a second behind Drusilla in swamping their sister in a welcoming hug.
“We made it,” Katherine declared unnecessarily.
“So I see,” Genevieve retorted. “How was the trip out?”
Katherine made a face. “Space sick as usual for the first three days but it’s gone now.” She gestured a tall bronze-skinned woman holding two toddlers forward. “Jayne, this is my sister Genevieve, your new Laird. Genevieve this is Jayne, who has agreed to take over as governess for my new family.”
Genevieve nodded graciously. “Welcome to Vensoog, Mistress Jayne. I hope you and your children will be happy here.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” the woman replied.
While Katherine was introducing Jayne to the kennel mistress Margie and her new nanny dogs, Genevieve had time to take stock of the men who had followed Katherine off the shuttle. She was uncomfortably aware of Gideon Michaels studying her as well. She was about to take matters into her own hands and introduce herself when Katherine turned back to her.
“Genevieve, may I present Colonel Gideon Michaels, his son Lucas and his niece Jayla?”
Genevieve held out her hand and Gideon bowed over it, brushing it with a kiss. “Lady Genevieve, I am honored to meet you,” he said, retaining his grip on her hand when he rose.
She smiled back at him. “Just Genevieve, please. Since we are to be Handfasted, I suggest we start with first names instead of titles.” She turned to Lucas and Jayla. “These are your wards?”
“Yes, this is Lucas Llewelyn and Jayla Michaels.” He kicked Lucas in the ankle to get his attention since the boy had apparently not heard the introduction; he had been staring dumbstruck at Drusilla ever since he’d seen her.
“What? Oh, pleased to meet you ma’am,” Lucas said, bowing, but his eyes went straight back to Drusilla.
Seeing what had drawn his gaze, Genevieve’s lips twitched, but she turned her attention to Jayla. “Welcome to Vensoog, Lady Jayla,” she said as the girl, having been coached by Katherine on the trip out, dropped a curtsey. “Lord Lucas, I am pleased to meet you. I can see you will be a welcome addition to the Clan.”
She gestured Drusilla forward. “Gideon, this is my youngest sister, Lady Drusilla. Drusilla has been largely responsible for organizing the ceremony this afternoon and the journey back to Glass City we will take later this week.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Drusilla said shyly, blushing when she met Lucas’ openly admiring eyes.
“Excuse me,” Genevieve murmured to Gideon, gently freeing her hand. “Protocol,” as she moved back over to Katherine.
“Lady Genevieve, Lady Drusilla,” Katherine said formally. “This is my fiancée Zackery Jackson,” she said gesturing to the dark, wiry man standing next to her, “and his wards, the Ladies Violet and Lucinda, and his nephews Lord Rupert and Lord Roderick. And this,” she added going to stand behind a young redheaded girl with sharp green eyes, and putting her hands on both the girl’s shoulders, “is my First Daughter, Lady Juliette O’Teague ’NiJones. Everyone, this is my sister, your new Laird, the Lady Genevieve O’Teague, and my younger sister Lady Drusilla.”
Genevieve’s eyebrows rose in surprise because somehow in all the communications Katherine hadn’t yet informed her that she had chosen a First. She held out both hands to Juliette and said, “Welcome to our family, First Daughter. I am so pleased to meet all of you.”
Katherine nodded her thanks. “If you will come with me M’Lady, I’ll present you to some of the other families who landed with us. We can do the formal presentation after everyone has arrived at the Manor house.”
“Didn’t Aunt Corrine come down with you?” asked Drusilla.
“Corrine and Vernal will come down with the last group. I hope you don’t mind, Genevieve, but I invited Captain Heidelberg and his officers to the wedding feast this afternoon, so I hope they will accompany the last landing party,” Katherine added.
Largely thanks to Drusilla’s organization and Katherine’s efficiency, the first group of new O’Teague clansmen went aboard the paddleboat Saucy Salsa, and headed down the channel towards the outer islands less than an hour after they arrived.
Genevieve had been absurdly conscious of Gideon’s presence while she performed her duties as hostess. Finally, to her relief the family was settled in chairs on the deck as the boat made its ponderous way through the traffic. Gorla, her Quirka, had inspected Gideon earlier from Genevieve’s shoulder and seemed to accept him.
“She’s a cute little thing,” he remarked as Gorla preened visibly under his regard.
“Yes, and vain too, I’m afraid. Behave yourself, Gorla!” she scolded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have much time to make you welcome earlier.”
A deep rumble of masculine laughter answered her. “Not to worry,” he said. “I’m just enjoying the sights. It’s been a long time since I had leisure just to look around and not worry about where the next attack was going to come from.”
“You were career military?” Genevieve asked.
“Yes I was, but now I have Lucas and Jayla to care for. I was ready for something different after the war in any case.”
“Well, I can’t promise you no more fighting as we do have the occasional raid from the Wilders in the hills and from a few from Outlaw space ships, but on the whole, we’re a pretty peaceful bunch,” Genevieve said.
Gideon nodded. “I understand from Katherine, that handling those types of incursions will be my primary responsibility?” he asked.
“Yes. Traditionally, the Laird’s spouse does handle security for both the Clan and in Glass Harbor City,” Genevieve responded. “If you are comfortable with the duty, in the O’Teague Clan the Laird’s husband also coordinates Planetary Security, that of Port Recovery and the waterways used for travel with his opposites in the other Clans.”
“At least I won’t be bored,” he said smiling.
“It kept my father pretty busy,” she acknowledged. “I don’t know what types of things interest you yet though but if you want to take on other pursuits, there will be time for them.”
“Perhaps there are some things we can do together?” he asked, reaching for her hand again.
Genevieve put hers into it, enjoying the feel of strength carefully controlled as he clasped hers. “I’m sure we can find something. We will have to return to Port Recovery in a couple of weeks though. There is a Security Council meeting scheduled for six weeks from now. By then all the Clans should have been able to assimilate their new members and we can introduce our new Heads of Security to each other. I probably should warn you that this year it is our clan’s responsibility to chair the meeting of the Security Council.”
“Always?” he asked curiously.
“No, just for this year. The Security Chair position rotates every year. When we first settled here, a rotating schedule was set up so no one clan would be able to establish dominance over the others. The Founders were very concerned about not giving any Clan an excuse to set up a power monopoly. Usually we don’t have so many new members to introduce in a session, but so many of the ten Security Council members went off to war that this time we probably will have at least six new members. I thought if I went with you it would give us some time without the entire clan watching us.”
“Did you say ten members?” he asked curiously. “I thought there were only eight clans.”
“There are, but the Talker’s Guild has a member and so do the Independent Fishers.”
Gideon nodded approvingly. “How long will it take for us to travel back and forth?”
“We have air sleds available which make Port Recovery only about a day’s travel from home. We’ll use one of them,” she said. “I think we should spend the time until the meeting traveling around the Clan territories so you can get to know those of us who didn’t come to meet you,” she added.
He nodded in agreement. “Thank you for arranging some time for us to get to know each other out of the limelight, Genevieve. Seeing the territory is a good idea too. It will give me some idea of what defenses are available and what areas would be likely targets of any Jacks. To design a proper defense against an attack, I really need to see the topography of the area.”
“Jacks?” she asked curiously.
He shrugged. “In the forces, we nicknamed the planetary raiders Jacks because they so often ah—hi-jacked items that didn’t belong to them.”
She grinned at him. “Was that a joke?”
He grinned back at her. “Well, it is a bad pun, I admit, but that’s what we called them.”
She felt herself relax as their mutual laugher broke some of the tension she had been feeling. It was nice to realize her new husband had a sense of humor matching her own. Bless Katherine’s programming, she thought. “Well,” she continued, “after we return from the meeting, we still won’t be totally tied to the Clan territory. We will be returning to Port Recovery each quarter when the Security Council meets. We will be returning for the Planting and Harvest Solstice Celebrations. Those are mainly social functions. Traditionally all the young men and women who have come of age are given a Match List of genetically suitable mates and the celebration provides a time and a place for them to meet young people from other clans. Attending the festivals helps me to keep up with who is who and who is doing what in the other clans.”
He nodded in agreement. “It should help me keep up with things.”
“Your Lucas seemed really taken with my little sister,” Genevieve remarked, changing the subject. She was watching the two of them leaning over the rail as Drusilla pointed out a family of Water Dragons feeding in the shallows on the shore.
“I did notice that,” Gideon agreed. ” I would have said he was struck dumb when he saw her. I’m afraid he hasn’t had much experience around girls his age outside of those in the military academy. I was fortunate to get him a placement there while I was serving, but since he was due to graduate this year, he elected to come with me when I decided to emigrate.”
“Well, Drusilla hasn’t had much experience with young men her age either,” Genevieve remarked. “We lost so many from the fever when the bio-bomb hit us. I reminded her just this week, that next Planting she would be getting her Match List from the Makers—”
“The Makers? What or who is that? You mentioned Match Lists earlier, but I didn’t really understand what it meant,” Gideon said.
“The Makers oversee the genetic tracking program that keeps our colony gene pool healthy,” Genevieve replied. “Every year during the Planting and Harvest Festivals, all men and women who are of age are given a Match List of acceptable breeding partners.”
“Ah—Breeding partners?” he asked incredously.
“Well, the Makers don’t put it that crudely, but that is what it amounts to. The two Festivals are traditionally the time when the eligible candidates from all the clans gather in Port Recovery City. The social aspects ensure the mixing of the population and the lists help to prevent inbreeding within a clan. A lot of myths and misinformation about the Maker program are widely held and many engagements are arranged for couples who meet during Planting and Harvest Festivals simply because of the widespread acceptance that your list has your ideal match somewhere on it.”
Hearing the irony in her voice, he looked at her sharply. “Not true?” he inquired.
Genevieve made a face. “I suppose that is a matter of opinion. I found it to be not true at all when I got my list. And when Katherine was reworking the program to take to Fenris, I learned the Maker program was designed to ensure genetic diversity. It barely gives lip service to the emotional harmony of the couples involved. To give equal weight to each partner’s needs, social status and personal likes and dislikes, Katherine had to re-write that part of the program completely. In my opinion, That misbegotten program has probably created more unhappy marriages than happy ones,” she snorted.
“As I understand it then, you were given such a list the year you turned seventeen?” Gideon pursued, obviously interested in her reasoning. “Do I take it you didn’t like the results?”
“Well, let’s just say I caught one of the men on my list raiding O’Teague land right before the war was declared,” Genevieve replied grimly. “Gregor was from the Ivanov Clan across the channel and anytime he was caught in O’Teague territory, he used the excuse that he was there to court me to be where he wasn’t supposed to be. And he—well let’s just say that I found him to be less than honorable in his treatment of women. Before she left for Fenris I asked Katherine to ensure that her changes were implemented into the Maker program that will be used from now on.”
Gideon looked thoughtful. “They just let you do that?”
“I didn’t ask permission,” Genevieve told him.
Overhearing this last, Zack attempted to turn a laugh into a cough, gave up and howled. Gideon stared at him, puzzled. “What is so funny?”
Still laughing, Zack replied, “Not asking permission for stuff like that must run in the family. Remind me to tell you a story about how I ended up with so many nephews and cousins living on Fenris sometime. I bet your Makers won’t notice any changes to the program either—Katherine’s good.”
Genevieve had seen the outdoor pavilion and other preparations Drusilla had arranged for the arrival and Handfasting ceremony for the new couples, but she felt she was seeing it through new eyes when she showed it to Gideon. Several smaller colorful dome roofs had been fastened together to form a larger area for the Handfasting ceremony and wedding feast. The cupolas were held up with poles wrapped in colorful ribbons. To take advantage of the breeze coming in off the water, no sidewalls had been put up so the entire area was open to the beach. Decorated tables of food with stasis shielding were already laid out for the afternoon and evening meals. Folding chairs had been placed around other tables set up for dining. A leaf-covered arbor for the Handfasting ceremonies itself had been erected off to the side. Behind and a little to the right of the arbor were two smaller tables holding a stack of red and silver braided ribbons, glasses and clear decanters filled with a golden syrup.
Up the hill from the pavilion were a series of larger connected domes enfolding the main house and dormitories. Extensive and fragrant gardens marked with stone paths led up from the rotunda toward the main house. Twenty or thirty smaller, colorful porta domes had been set up to provide privacy for the newlywed couples at secluded spots in the gardens as well. Behind the flower gardens were the acres of fruit trees and a large vegetable garden that supplied the manor with food.
One of the acolytes struck a crystal gong and a single clear note pealed. Everyone quieted, directing their eyes towards the tiny woman who would be officiating at the Handfasting ceremony. She stood under a canopy of green, sunlight filtering down through the leaves. The woman was wearing what Gideon had learned was traditional dress for women on Vensoog, a loose blouse with a vest laced in under her breasts, soft pants and a knee-length split skirt in rainbow shades. The colors made her eyes seem an even more vivid green than the arbor. Her white hair was braided in a coronet around her face. A large multi-colored crystal pendant rested on her breast, and large drops of the same stones were braided into her hair and hung from her ears; she was attended by two slim teenagers similarly dressed but in paler tones.
“Good afternoon,” her voice had a deep bell-like quality. “For those who do not know me, I am High Priestess Arella of Clan O’Teague. I will be performing the Handfasting ceremonies today. Since we have quite a few couples to unite this afternoon, each ritual will be brief. I will ask each couple to come forward and join me under the Greenleaf, we will perform the service, and then you will be free to enjoy the arranged festivities until it is time for the brides to leave for the wedding bower. If there are any here who wish for the Forever and A Day Handfasting, please let me know when you come forward.” Arella consulted the infopad next to her.
“Genevieve and Gideon, please join me.”
When the Laird and her betrothed had joined her, Arella said, “Please turn and face one another. Each of you cross your arms and take the others hands.”
She picked up a thin, braided red and silver cord and laid it over their wrists, allowing the ends to dangle.
“Genevieve, Gideon, your crossed arms and joined hands create the symbol for Infinity. Today, we ask that the Light Of The Divine shine upon this union for a year and a day. In that spirit, I offer a blessing to this Handfasting.”
“Blessed be this Handfasting with the offerings from the East — new beginnings that come each day with the dawn, junction of the heart, soul, body and mind.”
“Blessed be this Handfasting with the offerings of the South — the untroubled heart, the heat of passion, and the tenderness of a loving home.”
“Blessed be this Handfasting with the offerings of the West — the hastening eagerness of a raging river, the softness and pure cleansing of a rainstorm, and faithfulness as deep as the ocean.”
“Blessed be this Handfasting with the offerings of the North — a solid footing on which to build your lives, richness and growth of your home, and the strength to be found by embracing one another at the end of the day.”
Arella wrapped the dangling ends of the cord around the wrists of the bride and groom, binding them together loosely and tying a knot.
“The bonds of this Handfasting are not formed by these ribbons, or even by the knots connecting them. They are formed instead by your vows, by your pledge, to love and honor each other for a year and a day, at which time these vows may be renewed or dissolved by each according to their lights. Genevieve, Gideon, do you agree with the terms of this Handfasting?”
“We agree,” they said in unison, and then Genevieve and Gideon stepped forward, hands still clasped, and kissed. Arella touched the cord and it slid off their hands, still tied. The acolyte a slim teenager in a pale robe stepped forward with a tray holding one of the glass boxes. Arella placed the cord inside the box and gestured for Gideon and Genevieve to each hold opposite ends of the box. The acolyte stepped back returning the tray to the table, where the second acolyte placed another empty box on it.
“By blood this oath is taken, on this day and in this hour,” Arella intoned, touching the box with a small gold wand. Everyone felt the small surge of power. He had been warned to expect it so Gideon held firmly onto his end when the sharp stab of pain in his palm caused a drop of blood to form on his end of the box. Blood from a similar prick on Genevieve’s hand met his in the center. The edges disappeared as the box sealed and their names and the date scrolled across the top in red. Examining his hand later, he found only a small pink scar had formed on his palm.
“This Knot is a symbol of your union. Hold it fast and give it an honored place in your home.”
Genevieve slipped the box into a pocket of her wedding dress and Arella gestured the acolyte to step forward again, this time holding a tray with a clear decanter and two glasses. “For love and fertility,” Arella said, pouring a small amount of golden syrup into the glasses. The two spouts of the decanter enabled both glasses to be filled at once with the same amount of liquid. Genevieve and Gideon each held the glass to the other’s lips as they drank, and then set the glasses back on the tray for the acolyte to take back to the table.
“Thank you Arella.” Genevieve motioned for Lucas and Jayla to come forward. Holding Gideon’s hand, she stepped up beside them.
“The O’Teague presents her new family, my husband Lord Gideon ni’Warlord of Clan O’Teague, his son Lucas and niece Jayla.” She made the announcement and led the way from the arbor to make room for the next couple.
Jayla looked at her. “Why didn’t you say I was your First Daughter, the way Katherine did with Juliette when she introduced her to you,” she demanded.
Genevieve took a deep breath. She would have much preferred not to have this conversation at this time. “I didn’t announce it, because it isn’t true,” she said mildly. “The position of First Daughter is not one that is automatically given by birth or family position. It isn’t just a title either; it requires a lot of hard work and dedication. You and I don’t know each other well enough for either of us to make the decision if you will be cut out for the duties, or even if you want it once you understand the responsibility. I hope that we can become friends as we get to know one another. Perhaps this decision can be brought up later when we know more about each other.”
“You don’t like me,” Jayla declared, a hint of tears in her voice as well as anger.
“Jayla—” Gideon began in annoyance just as Genevieve spoke.
“That isn’t true,” Genevieve said quietly. “I just don’t know you. I hope we will get to like each other very much—”
Jayla dashed tears from her eyes and said stiffly, “May I be excused? I’m tired. I would like to go take a nap.”
“Of course, dear,” Genevieve said calmly, “As soon as dinner is over. You wouldn’t want the other girls to think you are upset about anything, and they will if you leave so early.”
Gideon had opened his mouth again but closed it at a slight shake of Genevieve’s head. They watched Jayla as she stalked off to the table where Zacks children were sitting.
“I beg your pardon,” he said, frustrated. “That was out of line. She just isn’t happy and I don’t know what to do about it.”
Genevieve found herself patting his arm in reassurance. “It’s alright. I expect these last few months have been a lot for her to handle. Didn’t she lose her parents just a few months before you pulled her out of school? Her whole life has been turned upside down. Her parents are gone and so are her friends from school, she has a new father and a new home with new customs. It’s actually reassuring she feels safe enough with you to lash out a little.”
He gave her an odd look. “You’re very understanding,” he said.
“I lost my parents at a young age too and I remember what that was like,” she said. “Oh, I was not as young as Jayla, but a lot of responsibility got dropped on me before I felt I was ready. When mother died in childbirth, suddenly I was Laird with the entire weight of the Clan riding on every decision I made. Unlike Jayla, I didn’t have anyone it was safe to lash out at, but I sure wanted to. Give her time. I’m sure she’ll regain her balance eventually.”
“I hope so,” Gideon returned, looking thoughtful. He didn’t say so, but his memories of his late sister-in-law Celia, made him doubt Jayla would feel any need to change her behavior. He loved his brother’s daughter, but he found her attitude frustrating. Genevieve’s responses to things like Jayla’s behavior had caught him by surprise several times since meeting her. The Vensoog ladies certainly seemed to have gotten different training, perhaps, he thought hopefully, they would be able to pass some of that onto Jayla.
When Zack and Katherine had returned to their table to watch the rest of the ceremonies, Gideon took the opportunity to ask Zack what had been in the syrup they drank during the ceremony.
Zack shrugged. “Payome, I think Katherine called it. She tells me it’s traditional during the ceremony. It’s supposed to make the first night a little easier. Apparently, it’s a mild aphrodisiac with a touch of soother. She says the effects usually last a couple of hours so it won’t wear off before the couple goes to bed.” He grinned, “Since Katherine and I are pretty well at ease with each other, I don’t think we’re going to need it—Vernal and Corrine either, but you might,” he teased Gideon, who snorted and cuffed him affectionately on the shoulder.
Corrine and Vernal chose to become handfasted, opting for the more involved Forever and A Day ceremony. Several couples of the same sex chose to announce their Handfasting at that time as well. As expected, the individual Handfasting ceremonies had taken most of the afternoon and part of the evening, and then any new single members were presented to the Clan.
The wedding feast turned into quite a party. Genevieve and Gideon as hosts presided over the head table attended by Katherine and Zack and Corrine and Vernal. As special witnesses, the Captain and his officers from the Dancing Gryphon had been seated with them. Drusilla had a place there as well, but she was seldom to be found sitting down. She kept jumping up to attend to many small problems that seemed require her attention. She had provided music so the couples could dance with each other as well as games for the children.
To Genevieve’s silent amusement, Lucas seemed to have been designated as Drusilla’s dinner partner instead of sitting with the other children. It’s started already she thought. I’m going to need a big stick to beat them off with before she comes of age. He had been following her around ever since they had been introduced. If Lucas persisted, she would have to ask Drusilla if his attentions were welcome or not.
In a rare quiet moment, Genevieve directed Gideon’s attention to the children’s table because she had noticed tension between Jayla and Zack’s wards.
Gideon sighed. “I’m afraid they didn’t hit it off well,” he admitted. “Jayla has had such a different upbringing, and there were several incidents—just childish nonsense really, but I’m afraid I don’t know much about handling young girls so I expect I wasn’t as sympathetic as she thought I should be.”
“Well, when we arrive at Glass Castle, I’m sure we can find some young ladies who share more of her interests,” she said reassuringly. “In the meantime, perhaps she can accompany Drusilla into city when she is checking on the riverboat loads. Drusilla is older than Jayla, but it might serve.”
He smiled at her. “Thank you. I confess I am getting to my wits end in dealing with her.”
About an hour after the ceremonies had been concluded and the children sent to their rooms, a soft chime sounded. All the brides rose, each handing their groom a small crystal projecting a map to their quarters.
“Give us about twenty minutes or so to prepare before you gentlemen start for the house,” Genevieve told Gideon. “Our efficient Drusilla has seen to it that each crystal will take you to the right room,” she added as she followed Katherine and Corrine out of the pavilion.
New Beginnings
AS GENEVIEVE undressed slowly, she could feel the Payome kicking in causing slow warmth to build between her legs and her nipples felt swollen and sensitive. She picked up the negligee laid out on the bed. The gift of the gowns to all the brides had been her idea, but Drusilla had declared that there was nothing suitable in stores so she had designed them. Genevieve had been busy with Parliament, so other than approving the material and expense of sewing, and knowing Drusilla was a skilled designer she had left the creation of the gowns in her baby sister’s hands. Now Genevieve picked up hers and her mouth dropped open. Great Goddess! Her sixteen-year-old baby sister had designed this?
The material slid sensuously through her hands and along her body as she slipped it on. The loose gown was so thin it felt and looked like a green film and it clung to her skin showing every curve she had. The back started just above her buttocks, the deep vee in front went all the way to her navel and the split on both sides went more than halfway up her thighs. Hastily she picked up the matching robe and donned it. Looking in the mirror, she realized ruefully that the robe’s translucent material didn’t really make much of an improvement towards modesty.
As the door opened and Gideon entered, she caught a brief glimpse of Vernal passing with his head averted. The door slid closed behind Gideon, but he just stood transfixed, running his eyes over her. She could see him swallow and as his heated gaze rose to meet hers and she could feel herself blushing.
“Drusilla designed the gown and robe. All the brides got one. I’m going to have to ask her where she got the idea for the design—”I’m babbling, she thought. What is wrong with me?
Gideon moved forward slowly, raising a hand to thread his fingers through her unbound hair. “You look beautiful. Your hair is like fire,” he said.
“Umm, you like red hair?” she asked inanely. Her prior experience with a man under the influence of Payome led her to expect their first encounter was going to be fast and a little rough.
Gideon surprised her. “Yes, I like your hair,” he said, sliding his hands softly down her arms and bringing her fingers up to his mouth, pressing a kiss on them before laying them on the front of his shirt.
“Why don’t you help me undress,” he suggested, moving his hands back up to her shoulders and neck so he could cup her face for a kiss. The kiss was gentle and soft, giving her plenty of time to accustom herself to his mouth.
Obediently, Genevieve found herself sliding the buttons open on his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders even as she felt her lips parting for him. As Gideon continued his slow, gentle assault on her senses, she felt a deep, powerful need began to build. Subliminally she knew part of the sexual heat she was feeling was due to the Payome, but it had been years since she had been with a man, and her body was waking up and remembering feelings she thought she had put away forever.
Gideon’s skin was slightly rough under her hands, and a light sprinkling of blond hair on his chest made its way down his stomach, disappearing into his trousers. She felt the urge to see and feel more of him, but hesitated to begin to unfasten his pants, so instead she moved closer to him, sliding her arms around his neck and returning his kiss.
As their bodies touched, she could feel the iron control he was exercising to keep from moving too fast for her. When her hips touched his, she felt his arousal and he made a deep guttural sound of pleasure. For just an instant his control slipped, the kiss deepened and his hand tightened on her buttocks, pressing her harder against his swollen shaft.
Not completely in control after all, Genevieve thought naughtily, reaching for the fastening of his trousers.
The climax of their lovemaking was series of fierce and intense waves of pleasure. Afterward, when he collapsed atop her she could still feel faint tremors of pleasure running through her. Absently, she ran her hand through his thick waves blond hair and he turned to look at her anxiously. His expression relaxed when he saw she was smiling faintly at him.
“I think I saw some wine and finger foods on the terrace under a stasis field if you’re hungry,” Genevieve said.
“Not for food,” Gideon said.
“Me neither,” Genevieve admitted, reaching for him, wondering if the second time could possibly be as good as the first.
Gorla, her Quirka, woke her just as the sun was rising by bouncing off the balcony rail onto her pillow. Her quills rose as she discovered Gideon sprawled in sleep next to her mistress, but after sniffing his hair, she appeared to accept his presence in Genevieve’s bed. The small foxlike pet had disliked Gregor intensely, Genevieve remembered, and the feeling had been mutual.
Carefully so as not to waken her new husband, Genevieve slid out of bed and opened the stasis field long enough to take out a couple of Gorla’s favorite finger sandwiches before she made her way to the bathroom. Gorla’s fur rippled with pleasure as it changed color to match the food set out.
Putting her hair up to keep it dry, Genevieve eyed her reflection in the mirror. She certainly looked like a woman who had enjoyed her wedding night, she reflected ruefully. Her body was sore in a couple of unaccustomed places too. Strange that Gorla had accepted Gideon so readily, she mused. Comparing the two men was useless because they were so different, Genevieve thought. She was going to have to remember to thank her sister privately for ensuring this relationship was so much better than her last one. Everything about Gideon was different from Gregor not just Gorla’s response to him and his to her. Gideon had seemed determined that she should enjoy their sexual encounters as much as he had. Had they really made love four or five times? She couldn’t remember Gregor being particularly interested in her reactions to sex at all other than to make sure she was available for it.
Genevieve was so lost in thought she jumped in surprise nearly slipping and falling on the slippery floor when the shower door opened and Gideon stepped in. He caught her against his body, easily keeping her from falling.
“Didn’t mean to scare you to death,” he said laughing. “I thought we could wash each other’s backs.”
Genevieve was laughing too. “I’m not used to having company in the shower. I thought you were still asleep and I was trying not to wake you.”
“Well, your Quirka wasn’t so thoughtful; she wanted more food out of the stasis cube, so she tickled me until I woke up and got it for her. I hope you don’t mind. Katherine told us they pretty much eat anything.”
“Little glutton; I fed her too,” Genevieve said indulgently. She handed him a soapy sponge as he talked, and he began running it over her body.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Genevieve grabbed a second sponge and began doing the same to him. “You don’t get it all your own way this time. I get to play too.”
Excerpt: Forever & A Day
GENEVIEVE, Laird of the O’Teague Clan, stood on the terrace of her room in the original O’Teague Manor and looked towards the spaceport. It couldn’t be seen from here yet she knew it was there and felt its presence like a lead weight on her heart. She grimaced. Today was her last day as an unmarried woman. Tomorrow, the ship Dancing Gryphon would begin unloading its passengers and cargo. Her younger sister Katherine would be bringing down the man who was going to be sharing her life and her bed for the next year. Although she knew and accepted the necessity for the coming Handfasting, she had hidden her inner reluctance from Katherine, whose plan it had been, and from her clan who were depending on her for leadership.
When the Karamine biogenetic weapon struck Vensoog in the final three years of the war killing or sterilizing all the male humans, it had been a devastating blow to the two-hundred-year-old colony. Since the Karaminetes only used the bio-bomb on planets they planned to resettle, the virus had a very short life span and soon dissipated.
Two years later, the treaty declaring peace was signed and the Confederated Worlds began the slow road to recovery. It did not take the Vensoog Clans long to realize they were in deep trouble. The additional loss of most of the men and woman on the five ships supplied to the war effort by the Vensoog Clans had only worsened the problem created by the bioweapon. With no additional children being born, the colony population would die out within three to four generations.
Genevieve’s younger sister Katherine had come up with a solution to the dilemma. The planet needed a fresh supply of healthy sperm to maintain a good genetic balance. Since the Vensoog people shunned the cloning of humans, Katherine had concluded they needed a fresh batch of male colonists. Vensoog had been lucky in that they still had a viable planetary ecosystem; a few planets had simply been burned off, leaving thousands of souls homeless. Since the weapon seemed to have had a very short shelf life, bringing in a fresh supply of genetic material should solve the problem. In accordance with Katherine’s plan, she and her Aunt Corrine had gone to Fenris, where most of the returning soldiers from this area were being decommissioned and offered them a new home, providing they were willing to join one of the Vensoog Clans by entering a ‘Year And A Day’ Handfasting rite with a suitable Vensoog woman. Or if the new immigrant didn’t want to be matched for some reason they could choose to supply sperm or ova (if the soldier happened to be female) for the planetary genetic banks. These Donations would be later developed into embryos and implanted in living volunteers. Tomorrow Katherine and representatives from the other Clans would be returning home with the first round of new immigrants.
To persuade their fellow clanswomen to participate, both Katherine and Genevieve had signed up to be Handfasted. Showing the strength of their confidence and belief in the program by signing up for it inspired the young women of the Clan to participate. Katherine’s Handfasting program, unlike the previous Match program used by the Makers was designed to pair couples not just for genetic diversity, but the personality and lifestyles of the women with their prospective husbands, thus ensuring a happy joining. The couples would be joined for a Year And A Day, after which they could dissolve the union or opt for the ‘Forever And A Day’ Handfasting Ceremony, which was a lifetime commitment. Not all the new immigrants were male, some of the returning soldiers had been women and they too were offered Clan membership. Those immigrants already in committed relationships had been offered full clan membership for their families as well, but they were expected to Donate to the planetary banks. The sperm or ova would later be combined, as the Maker Program deemed suitable to create children. The donors could raise the children if they chose, but the most common situation was for the children to be adopted by childless clan members.
Genevieve had a great deal of faith in her sister’s programming skills, but she knew the kind of bad boy traits she had been attracted to in the past would not make a suitable husband in the long run, and probably not in the short term either. To rule wisely, she needed the kind of man who would prove a good counterbalance for her. She needed and wanted the kind of partnership she had seen in her parents before their deaths. She didn’t need another handsome, selfish charmer in her life. Don’t be such a wuss she chastised herself. This man won’t be like Gregor. You’re older and wiser now and Katherine’s program would have taken into account what she needed wouldn’t it? Genevieve studied the image of Gideon Michaels on her personal com. He certainly didn’t look like a man who depended on his charm or looks to get by. He wasn’t bad looking, but his blunt features held both strength and determination. His face showed none of the wild recklessness that had characterized Gregor Ivanov.
Maybe it would be all right, she thought hopefully. She needed a good, solid man who would come to care for the Clan as much as she did she reminded herself, and going by the steady set of Gideon’s eyes and the firm set of his mouth under that beak of a nose, Katherine had provided that. Genevieve knew that many of the Clan thought she still mourned the loss of the wild young man from the neighboring clan who had so nearly charmed her into marriage. Well, what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them, she thought wryly.
The scent of the river and the soft breeze of the cooling summer night caused eleven years to drop away and she was again that seventeen-year-old girl facing the man she might have loved and refusing to elope with him and abandon her people and Vensoog to the mercies of the Karamites. It had been a shock to realize Gregor didn’t care what happened to her or Clan O’Teague if he wasn’t going to rule. She had stared at him in disbelief and horror when she recognized that he had fully intended to take over the Clan when they married, regulating her to an insignificant nothing. Gregor had apparently intended to use her status as Laird of O’Teague as a steppingstone to conquer the rest of Vensoog and overthrow the current Matriarchal Clan system. When the war disrupted his plans, he had decided to run rather than stay and defend Vensoog from the Karamines.
At the beginning of the war, the Parliamentary Council had announced that as a member of the Confederated Worlds, Vensoog was requested to supply both resources and staffing for five troop ships, which they had done. Genevieve’s father had commanded one of them. The Blackhand, Gregor’s ship in orbit, was not on the list of ships provided by Vensoog. In fact, Genevieve had begun to suspect that the Blackhands crew was responsible for the recent raiding of outlying O’Teague farms. What’s more, she had discovered that Gregor knew something about the raids he wasn’t sharing with his Grand Duke, but she had no proof of anything and she had been reluctant to admit she could have been so wrong about him. When Gregor had come back tonight to ask her to escape with him on the Blackhand, he told her that as first officer he could guarantee her a place aboard ship. She had refused and in the end, she had used her special talentagainst him to keep him from forcing her to go with him. When he realized she meant what she said, he had damned her as he went to join the crew of the shuttle waiting for him. As a final insult, he had shot into her airsled, trapping her ten miles from the nearest homestead and preventing her from warning anyone about the coming raid.
Her youngest sister Drusilla burst in abruptly jerking her thoughts back to the present.
“Aren’t you getting ready yet? We have that banquet in Port Recovery tonight with the other Clan chiefs and we need to leave in about an hour.”
Genevieve smiled at her. Drusilla was turning into a lovely young woman. Drusilla had very ably taken over the management of O’Teague lands while Genevieve had been attending Katherine’s seat in Parliament. She had organized tomorrow’s ceremony and the journey back to Glass Isle. Much tinier than Genevieve, she still had the family red hair and grey eyes.
“I’ll be ready when it’s time. I was just thinking,” Genevieve replied. “Is that what you’re planning to wear?”
“Why not? I’m just the youngest sister, I don’t have to intimidate or impress anyone tonight,” Drusilla replied. At sixteen, her fresh face was bare of makeup, and she had yet to put her short dark red hair into the elaborate hairstyles favored by the elite of the Clans.
“Oh no, you don’t,” retorted her sister. “It’s time you took your place among us as a woman of power. You planned and organized all of this. You should take credit for it. Come on, I think I have a gown that will become you and Mary will dress your hair.”
As the sisters dressed, Genevieve reminded Drusilla she needed to speak privately to LaDoña DeMedici so she could pass on the message Katherine had sent.
“Do you think she will listen?” asked Drusilla doubtfully. “Isn’t it kind of a criticism of Doña Sabina? I mean we’ll be sort of implying she can’t handle the job, aren’t we?”
Genevieve smiled at her approvingly. “That’s a very astute observation. For that reason, I intend to speak to her alone and be as tactful as I can. I intend to hand her the crystal Katherine sent and urge her to listen to it in private. I want everyone to have eyes on you and not notice when I do it.”
Once dressed, the two sisters stood in front of the mirror in Genevieve’s dressing room examining their appearance. For Drusilla’s first public appearance as an adult, Genevieve had put her into brilliant white with a dragon silk, off the shoulder blouse and dressed her dark red hair with small white flowers. The fitted girdle cupping her full breasts was white as were the loose pants and filmy knee-length skirt split up each side to her hips. The only touches of color were the opalescent pendant of the Dragon Talkers, which she was entitled to wear, and a pair of red quartz drop earrings. Drusilla most certainly didn’t look like a child tonight. Her Quirka, Toula who accompanied her everywhere, had been provided with a jeweled collar in matching stones.
Genevieve herself had dressed in her favorite dark green in the same style, and she had wound her fiery red hair into a neat chignon held in place by the golden diadem of her office as Laird. She had been amused when Gorla, her own Quirka had insisted on picking through her jewelry box for a suitable bracelet to wear as a collar.
Seeing the stunned look on her baby sister’s face when she caught her first glimpse of her mirrored image, Genevieve chuckled. “You aren’t a little girl anymore so get used to it, sweetie. Next Planting Festival the Makers will be giving you your Match List and I predict you’ll need to beat the young men off with a stick. I know there isn’t much to choose from right now, but we will be getting some new families joining the clan this time as well as Katherine’s soldiers; perhaps there will be some young men your age. Even if there are no one you like in this round of immigrants, there might be someone in the next wave. This won’t be the last group of displaced colonists to take advantage of our offer you know. Katherine left the program running on Fenris.” She frowned, thinking she still had to choose a suitable clanswoman to administer the program on Fenris as well as the other three planets where displaced refugees were being kept.
“Are you nervous Genevieve? I mean about meeting—ah—Gideon, wasn’t it?” Drusilla asked.
Genevieve’s smile turned wry. “Yes, I am, I suppose. I have a lot of faith in Katherine’s programming skills, but you may not remember that I don’t have a very good track record in choosing men.”
Drusilla glanced at her speculatively, “That wasn’t your fault. I know what he did.”
“I knew what he was doing too,” her sister said grimly. “I just couldn’t seem to break free of him until the last, and I had help to do that, didn’t I?”
Drusilla looked a little self-conscious. “You would have done it on your own eventually. You were fighting it.”
“Yes, but maybe not before he managed to drag me aboard that ship.”
“That wasn’t going to happen,” Drusilla said firmly.
“Well, it’s in the past. Better to forget it and move on,” Genevieve agreed.
The next day, Genevieve and Drusilla waited in the arrival dome in Port Recovery for the first set of the new colonists to arrive. Because she had wanted a look at Lewiston, Genevieve had arranged for them to be there in time to see the DeMedici party arrive.
“He looks like a vid hero,” Drusilla whispered to her as they watched him escort Doña Sabina through the doors.
“Yes,” Genevieve replied dryly, “all flash and no substance.” Just as Gregor had proved to be, she added mentally. If Katherine’s information about Lewiston’s plans was correct though he might prove a much more formidable opponent that Gregor ever was. While they waited, she continued to watch him out of the corner of her eye to see if she could learn more of his intentions.
Their small party watched the first wave of the DeMedici’s leave the dome and the Yang’s arrive. Lewiston and Doña Sabina however, stayed around, obviously waiting on something.
“They look like tough customers,” Drusilla remarked to her after seeing the contingent of men, women and families arriving with Nü-Huang Toshi Ishimara.
“Well, they are soldiers,” Genevieve retorted, “not really surprising they’d look like it. I’m glad Toshi Ishimara recruited families the way we did. Did you happen to notice that there weren’t any children with Lewiston’s group?”
“I wonder, is that because Doña Sabina refused to bring them or because Lewiston didn’t want them?”
“I doubt if she would have refused. It’s more likely Lewiston thought families would be a liability to his plans.”
About a half hour later, Katherine and Zack walked through the doors with the first party of their new clan members.
Genevieve was only a second behind Drusilla in swamping their sister in a welcoming hug.
“We made it,” Katherine declared unnecessarily.
“So I see,” Genevieve retorted. “How was the trip out?”
Katherine made a face. “Space sick as usual for the first three days but it’s gone now.” She gestured a tall bronze-skinned woman holding two toddlers forward. “Jayne, this is my sister Genevieve, your new Laird. Genevieve this is Jayne, who has agreed to take over as governess for my new family.”
Genevieve nodded graciously. “Welcome to Vensoog, Mistress Jayne. I hope you and your children will be happy here.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” the woman replied.
While Katherine was introducing Jayne to the kennel mistress Margie and her new nanny dogs, Genevieve had time to take stock of the men who had followed Katherine off the shuttle. She was uncomfortably aware of Gideon Michaels studying her as well. She was about to take matters into her own hands and introduce herself when Katherine turned back to her.
“Genevieve, may I present Colonel Gideon Michaels, his son Lucas and his niece Jayla?”
Genevieve held out her hand and Gideon bowed over it, brushing it with a kiss. “Lady Genevieve, I am honored to meet you,” he said, retaining his grip on her hand when he rose.
She smiled back at him. “Just Genevieve, please. Since we are to be Handfasted, I suggest we start with first names instead of titles.” She turned to Lucas and Jayla. “These are your wards?”
“Yes, this is Lucas Llewelyn and Jayla Michaels.” He kicked Lucas in the ankle to get his attention since the boy had apparently not heard the introduction; he had been staring dumbstruck at Drusilla ever since he’d seen her.
“What? Oh, pleased to meet you ma’am,” Lucas said, bowing, but his eyes went straight back to Drusilla.
Seeing what had drawn his gaze, Genevieve’s lips twitched, but she turned her attention to Jayla. “Welcome to Vensoog, Lady Jayla,” she said as the girl, having been coached by Katherine on the trip out, dropped a curtsey. “Lord Lucas, I am pleased to meet you. I can see you will be a welcome addition to the Clan.”
She gestured Drusilla forward. “Gideon, this is my youngest sister, Lady Drusilla. Drusilla has been largely responsible for organizing the ceremony this afternoon and the journey back to Glass City we will take later this week.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Drusilla said shyly, blushing when she met Lucas’ openly admiring eyes.
“Excuse me,” Genevieve murmured to Gideon, gently freeing her hand. “Protocol,” as she moved back over to Katherine.
“Lady Genevieve, Lady Drusilla,” Katherine said formally. “This is my fiancée Zackery Jackson,” she said gesturing to the dark, wiry man standing next to her, “and his wards, the Ladies Violet and Lucinda, and his nephews Lord Rupert and Lord Roderick. And this,” she added going to stand behind a young redheaded girl with sharp green eyes, and putting her hands on both the girl’s shoulders, “is my First Daughter, Lady Juliette O’Teague ’NiJones. Everyone, this is my sister, your new Laird, the Lady Genevieve O’Teague, and my younger sister Lady Drusilla.”
Genevieve’s eyebrows rose in surprise because somehow in all the communications Katherine hadn’t yet informed her that she had chosen a First. She held out both hands to Juliette and said, “Welcome to our family, First Daughter. I am so pleased to meet all of you.”
Katherine nodded her thanks. “If you will come with me M’Lady, I’ll present you to some of the other families who landed with us. We can do the formal presentation after everyone has arrived at the Manor house.”
“Didn’t Aunt Corrine come down with you?” asked Drusilla.
“Corrine and Vernal will come down with the last group. I hope you don’t mind, Genevieve, but I invited Captain Heidelberg and his officers to the wedding feast this afternoon, so I hope they will accompany the last landing party,” Katherine added.
Largely thanks to Drusilla’s organization and Katherine’s efficiency, the first group of new O’Teague clansmen went aboard the paddleboat Saucy Salsa, and headed down the channel towards the outer islands less than an hour after they arrived.
Genevieve had been absurdly conscious of Gideon’s presence while she performed her duties as hostess. Finally, to her relief the family was settled in chairs on the deck as the boat made its ponderous way through the traffic. Gorla, her Quirka, had inspected Gideon earlier from Genevieve’s shoulder and seemed to accept him.
“She’s a cute little thing,” he remarked as Gorla preened visibly under his regard.
“Yes, and vain too, I’m afraid. Behave yourself, Gorla!” she scolded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have much time to make you welcome earlier.”
A deep rumble of masculine laughter answered her. “Not to worry,” he said. “I’m just enjoying the sights. It’s been a long time since I had leisure just to look around and not worry about where the next attack was going to come from.”
“You were career military?” Genevieve asked.
“Yes I was, but now I have Lucas and Jayla to care for. I was ready for something different after the war in any case.”
“Well, I can’t promise you no more fighting as we do have the occasional raid from the Wilders in the hills and from a few from Outlaw space ships, but on the whole, we’re a pretty peaceful bunch,” Genevieve said.
Gideon nodded. “I understand from Katherine, that handling those types of incursions will be my primary responsibility?” he asked.
“Yes. Traditionally, the Laird’s spouse does handle security for both the Clan and in Glass Harbor City,” Genevieve responded. “If you are comfortable with the duty, in the O’Teague Clan the Laird’s husband also coordinates Planetary Security, that of Port Recovery and the waterways used for travel with his opposites in the other Clans.”
“At least I won’t be bored,” he said smiling.
“It kept my father pretty busy,” she acknowledged. “I don’t know what types of things interest you yet though but if you want to take on other pursuits, there will be time for them.”
“Perhaps there are some things we can do together?” he asked, reaching for her hand again.
Genevieve put hers into it, enjoying the feel of strength carefully controlled as he clasped hers. “I’m sure we can find something. We will have to return to Port Recovery in a couple of weeks though. There is a Security Council meeting scheduled for six weeks from now. By then all the Clans should have been able to assimilate their new members and we can introduce our new Heads of Security to each other. I probably should warn you that this year it is our clan’s responsibility to chair the meeting of the Security Council.”
“Always?” he asked curiously.
“No, just for this year. The Security Chair position rotates every year. When we first settled here, a rotating schedule was set up so no one clan would be able to establish dominance over the others. The Founders were very concerned about not giving any Clan an excuse to set up a power monopoly. Usually we don’t have so many new members to introduce in a session, but so many of the ten Security Council members went off to war that this time we probably will have at least six new members. I thought if I went with you it would give us some time without the entire clan watching us.”
“Did you say ten members?” he asked curiously. “I thought there were only eight clans.”
“There are, but the Talker’s Guild has a member and so do the Independent Fishers.”
Gideon nodded approvingly. “How long will it take for us to travel back and forth?”
“We have air sleds available which make Port Recovery only about a day’s travel from home. We’ll use one of them,” she said. “I think we should spend the time until the meeting traveling around the Clan territories so you can get to know those of us who didn’t come to meet you,” she added.
He nodded in agreement. “Thank you for arranging some time for us to get to know each other out of the limelight, Genevieve. Seeing the territory is a good idea too. It will give me some idea of what defenses are available and what areas would be likely targets of any Jacks. To design a proper defense against an attack, I really need to see the topography of the area.”
“Jacks?” she asked curiously.
He shrugged. “In the forces, we nicknamed the planetary raiders Jacks because they so often ah—hi-jacked items that didn’t belong to them.”
She grinned at him. “Was that a joke?”
He grinned back at her. “Well, it is a bad pun, I admit, but that’s what we called them.”
She felt herself relax as their mutual laugher broke some of the tension she had been feeling. It was nice to realize her new husband had a sense of humor matching her own. Bless Katherine’s programming, she thought. “Well,” she continued, “after we return from the meeting, we still won’t be totally tied to the Clan territory. We will be returning to Port Recovery each quarter when the Security Council meets. We will be returning for the Planting and Harvest Solstice Celebrations. Those are mainly social functions. Traditionally all the young men and women who have come of age are given a Match List of genetically suitable mates and the celebration provides a time and a place for them to meet young people from other clans. Attending the festivals helps me to keep up with who is who and who is doing what in the other clans.”
He nodded in agreement. “It should help me keep up with things.”
“Your Lucas seemed really taken with my little sister,” Genevieve remarked, changing the subject. She was watching the two of them leaning over the rail as Drusilla pointed out a family of Water Dragons feeding in the shallows on the shore.
“I did notice that,” Gideon agreed. ” I would have said he was struck dumb when he saw her. I’m afraid he hasn’t had much experience around girls his age outside of those in the military academy. I was fortunate to get him a placement there while I was serving, but since he was due to graduate this year, he elected to come with me when I decided to emigrate.”
“Well, Drusilla hasn’t had much experience with young men her age either,” Genevieve remarked. “We lost so many from the fever when the bio-bomb hit us. I reminded her just this week, that next Planting she would be getting her Match List from the Makers—”
“The Makers? What or who is that? You mentioned Match Lists earlier, but I didn’t really understand what it meant,” Gideon said.
“The Makers oversee the genetic tracking program that keeps our colony gene pool healthy,” Genevieve replied. “Every year during the Planting and Harvest Festivals, all men and women who are of age are given a Match List of acceptable breeding partners.”
“Ah—Breeding partners?” he asked incredously.
“Well, the Makers don’t put it that crudely, but that is what it amounts to. The two Festivals are traditionally the time when the eligible candidates from all the clans gather in Port Recovery City. The social aspects ensure the mixing of the population and the lists help to prevent inbreeding within a clan. A lot of myths and misinformation about the Maker program are widely held and many engagements are arranged for couples who meet during Planting and Harvest Festivals simply because of the widespread acceptance that your list has your ideal match somewhere on it.”
Hearing the irony in her voice, he looked at her sharply. “Not true?” he inquired.
Genevieve made a face. “I suppose that is a matter of opinion. I found it to be not true at all when I got my list. And when Katherine was reworking the program to take to Fenris, I learned the Maker program was designed to ensure genetic diversity. It barely gives lip service to the emotional harmony of the couples involved. To give equal weight to each partner’s needs, social status and personal likes and dislikes, Katherine had to re-write that part of the program completely. In my opinion, That misbegotten program has probably created more unhappy marriages than happy ones,” she snorted.
“As I understand it then, you were given such a list the year you turned seventeen?” Gideon pursued, obviously interested in her reasoning. “Do I take it you didn’t like the results?”
“Well, let’s just say I caught one of the men on my list raiding O’Teague land right before the war was declared,” Genevieve replied grimly. “Gregor was from the Ivanov Clan across the channel and anytime he was caught in O’Teague territory, he used the excuse that he was there to court me to be where he wasn’t supposed to be. And he—well let’s just say that I found him to be less than honorable in his treatment of women. Before she left for Fenris I asked Katherine to ensure that her changes were implemented into the Maker program that will be used from now on.”
Gideon looked thoughtful. “They just let you do that?”
“I didn’t ask permission,” Genevieve told him.
Overhearing this last, Zack attempted to turn a laugh into a cough, gave up and howled. Gideon stared at him, puzzled. “What is so funny?”
Still laughing, Zack replied, “Not asking permission for stuff like that must run in the family. Remind me to tell you a story about how I ended up with so many nephews and cousins living on Fenris sometime. I bet your Makers won’t notice any changes to the program either—Katherine’s good.”
Genevieve had seen the outdoor pavilion and other preparations Drusilla had arranged for the arrival and Handfasting ceremony for the new couples, but she felt she was seeing it through new eyes when she showed it to Gideon. Several smaller colorful dome roofs had been fastened together to form a larger area for the Handfasting ceremony and wedding feast. The cupolas were held up with poles wrapped in colorful ribbons. To take advantage of the breeze coming in off the water, no sidewalls had been put up so the entire area was open to the beach. Decorated tables of food with stasis shielding were already laid out for the afternoon and evening meals. Folding chairs had been placed around other tables set up for dining. A leaf-covered arbor for the Handfasting ceremonies itself had been erected off to the side. Behind and a little to the right of the arbor were two smaller tables holding a stack of red and silver braided ribbons, glasses and clear decanters filled with a golden syrup.
Up the hill from the pavilion were a series of larger connected domes enfolding the main house and dormitories. Extensive and fragrant gardens marked with stone paths led up from the rotunda toward the main house. Twenty or thirty smaller, colorful porta domes had been set up to provide privacy for the newlywed couples at secluded spots in the gardens as well. Behind the flower gardens were the acres of fruit trees and a large vegetable garden that supplied the manor with food.
One of the acolytes struck a crystal gong and a single clear note pealed. Everyone quieted, directing their eyes towards the tiny woman who would be officiating at the Handfasting ceremony. She stood under a canopy of green, sunlight filtering down through the leaves. The woman was wearing what Gideon had learned was traditional dress for women on Vensoog, a loose blouse with a vest laced in under her breasts, soft pants and a knee-length split skirt in rainbow shades. The colors made her eyes seem an even more vivid green than the arbor. Her white hair was braided in a coronet around her face. A large multi-colored crystal pendant rested on her breast, and large drops of the same stones were braided into her hair and hung from her ears; she was attended by two slim teenagers similarly dressed but in paler tones.
“Good afternoon,” her voice had a deep bell-like quality. “For those who do not know me, I am High Priestess Arella of Clan O’Teague. I will be performing the Handfasting ceremonies today. Since we have quite a few couples to unite this afternoon, each ritual will be brief. I will ask each couple to come forward and join me under the Greenleaf, we will perform the service, and then you will be free to enjoy the arranged festivities until it is time for the brides to leave for the wedding bower. If there are any here who wish for the Forever and A Day Handfasting, please let me know when you come forward.” Arella consulted the infopad next to her.
“Genevieve and Gideon, please join me.”
When the Laird and her betrothed had joined her, Arella said, “Please turn and face one another. Each of you cross your arms and take the others hands.”
She picked up a thin, braided red and silver cord and laid it over their wrists, allowing the ends to dangle.
“Genevieve, Gideon, your crossed arms and joined hands create the symbol for Infinity. Today, we ask that the Light Of The Divine shine upon this union for a year and a day. In that spirit, I offer a blessing to this Handfasting.”
“Blessed be this Handfasting with the offerings from the East — new beginnings that come each day with the dawn, junction of the heart, soul, body and mind.”
“Blessed be this Handfasting with the offerings of the South — the untroubled heart, the heat of passion, and the tenderness of a loving home.”
“Blessed be this Handfasting with the offerings of the West — the hastening eagerness of a raging river, the softness and pure cleansing of a rainstorm, and faithfulness as deep as the ocean.”
“Blessed be this Handfasting with the offerings of the North — a solid footing on which to build your lives, richness and growth of your home, and the strength to be found by embracing one another at the end of the day.”
Arella wrapped the dangling ends of the cord around the wrists of the bride and groom, binding them together loosely and tying a knot.
“The bonds of this Handfasting are not formed by these ribbons, or even by the knots connecting them. They are formed instead by your vows, by your pledge, to love and honor each other for a year and a day, at which time these vows may be renewed or dissolved by each according to their lights. Genevieve, Gideon, do you agree with the terms of this Handfasting?”
“We agree,” they said in unison, and then Genevieve and Gideon stepped forward, hands still clasped, and kissed. Arella touched the cord and it slid off their hands, still tied. The acolyte a slim teenager in a pale robe stepped forward with a tray holding one of the glass boxes. Arella placed the cord inside the box and gestured for Gideon and Genevieve to each hold opposite ends of the box. The acolyte stepped back returning the tray to the table, where the second acolyte placed another empty box on it.
“By blood this oath is taken, on this day and in this hour,” Arella intoned, touching the box with a small gold wand. Everyone felt the small surge of power. He had been warned to expect it so Gideon held firmly onto his end when the sharp stab of pain in his palm caused a drop of blood to form on his end of the box. Blood from a similar prick on Genevieve’s hand met his in the center. The edges disappeared as the box sealed and their names and the date scrolled across the top in red. Examining his hand later, he found only a small pink scar had formed on his palm.
“This Knot is a symbol of your union. Hold it fast and give it an honored place in your home.”
Genevieve slipped the box into a pocket of her wedding dress and Arella gestured the acolyte to step forward again, this time holding a tray with a clear decanter and two glasses. “For love and fertility,” Arella said, pouring a small amount of golden syrup into the glasses. The two spouts of the decanter enabled both glasses to be filled at once with the same amount of liquid. Genevieve and Gideon each held the glass to the other’s lips as they drank, and then set the glasses back on the tray for the acolyte to take back to the table.
“Thank you Arella.” Genevieve motioned for Lucas and Jayla to come forward. Holding Gideon’s hand, she stepped up beside them.
“The O’Teague presents her new family, my husband Lord Gideon ni’Warlord of Clan O’Teague, his son Lucas and niece Jayla.” She made the announcement and led the way from the arbor to make room for the next couple.
Jayla looked at her. “Why didn’t you say I was your First Daughter, the way Katherine did with Juliette when she introduced her to you,” she demanded.
Genevieve took a deep breath. She would have much preferred not to have this conversation at this time. “I didn’t announce it, because it isn’t true,” she said mildly. “The position of First Daughter is not one that is automatically given by birth or family position. It isn’t just a title either; it requires a lot of hard work and dedication. You and I don’t know each other well enough for either of us to make the decision if you will be cut out for the duties, or even if you want it once you understand the responsibility. I hope that we can become friends as we get to know one another. Perhaps this decision can be brought up later when we know more about each other.”
“You don’t like me,” Jayla declared, a hint of tears in her voice as well as anger.
“Jayla—” Gideon began in annoyance just as Genevieve spoke.
“That isn’t true,” Genevieve said quietly. “I just don’t know you. I hope we will get to like each other very much—”
Jayla dashed tears from her eyes and said stiffly, “May I be excused? I’m tired. I would like to go take a nap.”
“Of course, dear,” Genevieve said calmly, “As soon as dinner is over. You wouldn’t want the other girls to think you are upset about anything, and they will if you leave so early.”
Gideon had opened his mouth again but closed it at a slight shake of Genevieve’s head. They watched Jayla as she stalked off to the table where Zacks children were sitting.
“I beg your pardon,” he said, frustrated. “That was out of line. She just isn’t happy and I don’t know what to do about it.”
Genevieve found herself patting his arm in reassurance. “It’s alright. I expect these last few months have been a lot for her to handle. Didn’t she lose her parents just a few months before you pulled her out of school? Her whole life has been turned upside down. Her parents are gone and so are her friends from school, she has a new father and a new home with new customs. It’s actually reassuring she feels safe enough with you to lash out a little.”
He gave her an odd look. “You’re very understanding,” he said.
“I lost my parents at a young age too and I remember what that was like,” she said. “Oh, I was not as young as Jayla, but a lot of responsibility got dropped on me before I felt I was ready. When mother died in childbirth, suddenly I was Laird with the entire weight of the Clan riding on every decision I made. Unlike Jayla, I didn’t have anyone it was safe to lash out at, but I sure wanted to. Give her time. I’m sure she’ll regain her balance eventually.”
“I hope so,” Gideon returned, looking thoughtful. He didn’t say so, but his memories of his late sister-in-law Celia, made him doubt Jayla would feel any need to change her behavior. He loved his brother’s daughter, but he found her attitude frustrating. Genevieve’s responses to things like Jayla’s behavior had caught him by surprise several times since meeting her. The Vensoog ladies certainly seemed to have gotten different training, perhaps, he thought hopefully, they would be able to pass some of that onto Jayla.
When Zack and Katherine had returned to their table to watch the rest of the ceremonies, Gideon took the opportunity to ask Zack what had been in the syrup they drank during the ceremony.
Zack shrugged. “Payome, I think Katherine called it. She tells me it’s traditional during the ceremony. It’s supposed to make the first night a little easier. Apparently, it’s a mild aphrodisiac with a touch of soother. She says the effects usually last a couple of hours so it won’t wear off before the couple goes to bed.” He grinned, “Since Katherine and I are pretty well at ease with each other, I don’t think we’re going to need it—Vernal and Corrine either, but you might,” he teased Gideon, who snorted and cuffed him affectionately on the shoulder.
Corrine and Vernal chose to become handfasted, opting for the more involved Forever and A Day ceremony. Several couples of the same sex chose to announce their Handfasting at that time as well. As expected, the individual Handfasting ceremonies had taken most of the afternoon and part of the evening, and then any new single members were presented to the Clan.
The wedding feast turned into quite a party. Genevieve and Gideon as hosts presided over the head table attended by Katherine and Zack and Corrine and Vernal. As special witnesses, the Captain and his officers from the Dancing Gryphon had been seated with them. Drusilla had a place there as well, but she was seldom to be found sitting down. She kept jumping up to attend to many small problems that seemed require her attention. She had provided music so the couples could dance with each other as well as games for the children.
To Genevieve’s silent amusement, Lucas seemed to have been designated as Drusilla’s dinner partner instead of sitting with the other children. It’s started already she thought. I’m going to need a big stick to beat them off with before she comes of age. He had been following her around ever since they had been introduced. If Lucas persisted, she would have to ask Drusilla if his attentions were welcome or not.
In a rare quiet moment, Genevieve directed Gideon’s attention to the children’s table because she had noticed tension between Jayla and Zack’s wards.
Gideon sighed. “I’m afraid they didn’t hit it off well,” he admitted. “Jayla has had such a different upbringing, and there were several incidents—just childish nonsense really, but I’m afraid I don’t know much about handling young girls so I expect I wasn’t as sympathetic as she thought I should be.”
“Well, when we arrive at Glass Castle, I’m sure we can find some young ladies who share more of her interests,” she said reassuringly. “In the meantime, perhaps she can accompany Drusilla into city when she is checking on the riverboat loads. Drusilla is older than Jayla, but it might serve.”
He smiled at her. “Thank you. I confess I am getting to my wits end in dealing with her.”
About an hour after the ceremonies had been concluded and the children sent to their rooms, a soft chime sounded. All the brides rose, each handing their groom a small crystal projecting a map to their quarters.
“Give us about twenty minutes or so to prepare before you gentlemen start for the house,” Genevieve told Gideon. “Our efficient Drusilla has seen to it that each crystal will take you to the right room,” she added as she followed Katherine and Corrine out of the pavilion.
New Beginnings
AS GENEVIEVE undressed slowly, she could feel the Payome kicking in causing slow warmth to build between her legs and her nipples felt swollen and sensitive. She picked up the negligee laid out on the bed. The gift of the gowns to all the brides had been her idea, but Drusilla had declared that there was nothing suitable in stores so she had designed them. Genevieve had been busy with Parliament, so other than approving the material and expense of sewing, and knowing Drusilla was a skilled designer she had left the creation of the gowns in her baby sister’s hands. Now Genevieve picked up hers and her mouth dropped open. Great Goddess! Her sixteen-year-old baby sister had designed this?
The material slid sensuously through her hands and along her body as she slipped it on. The loose gown was so thin it felt and looked like a green film and it clung to her skin showing every curve she had. The back started just above her buttocks, the deep vee in front went all the way to her navel and the split on both sides went more than halfway up her thighs. Hastily she picked up the matching robe and donned it. Looking in the mirror, she realized ruefully that the robe’s translucent material didn’t really make much of an improvement towards modesty.
As the door opened and Gideon entered, she caught a brief glimpse of Vernal passing with his head averted. The door slid closed behind Gideon, but he just stood transfixed, running his eyes over her. She could see him swallow and as his heated gaze rose to meet hers and she could feel herself blushing.
“Drusilla designed the gown and robe. All the brides got one. I’m going to have to ask her where she got the idea for the design—”I’m babbling, she thought. What is wrong with me?
Gideon moved forward slowly, raising a hand to thread his fingers through her unbound hair. “You look beautiful. Your hair is like fire,” he said.
“Umm, you like red hair?” she asked inanely. Her prior experience with a man under the influence of Payome led her to expect their first encounter was going to be fast and a little rough.
Gideon surprised her. “Yes, I like your hair,” he said, sliding his hands softly down her arms and bringing her fingers up to his mouth, pressing a kiss on them before laying them on the front of his shirt.
“Why don’t you help me undress,” he suggested, moving his hands back up to her shoulders and neck so he could cup her face for a kiss. The kiss was gentle and soft, giving her plenty of time to accustom herself to his mouth.
Obediently, Genevieve found herself sliding the buttons open on his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders even as she felt her lips parting for him. As Gideon continued his slow, gentle assault on her senses, she felt a deep, powerful need began to build. Subliminally she knew part of the sexual heat she was feeling was due to the Payome, but it had been years since she had been with a man, and her body was waking up and remembering feelings she thought she had put away forever.
Gideon’s skin was slightly rough under her hands, and a light sprinkling of blond hair on his chest made its way down his stomach, disappearing into his trousers. She felt the urge to see and feel more of him, but hesitated to begin to unfasten his pants, so instead she moved closer to him, sliding her arms around his neck and returning his kiss.
As their bodies touched, she could feel the iron control he was exercising to keep from moving too fast for her. When her hips touched his, she felt his arousal and he made a deep guttural sound of pleasure. For just an instant his control slipped, the kiss deepened and his hand tightened on her buttocks, pressing her harder against his swollen shaft.
Not completely in control after all, Genevieve thought naughtily, reaching for the fastening of his trousers.
The climax of their lovemaking was series of fierce and intense waves of pleasure. Afterward, when he collapsed atop her she could still feel faint tremors of pleasure running through her. Absently, she ran her hand through his thick waves blond hair and he turned to look at her anxiously. His expression relaxed when he saw she was smiling faintly at him.
“I think I saw some wine and finger foods on the terrace under a stasis field if you’re hungry,” Genevieve said.
“Not for food,” Gideon said.
“Me neither,” Genevieve admitted, reaching for him, wondering if the second time could possibly be as good as the first.
Gorla, her Quirka, woke her just as the sun was rising by bouncing off the balcony rail onto her pillow. Her quills rose as she discovered Gideon sprawled in sleep next to her mistress, but after sniffing his hair, she appeared to accept his presence in Genevieve’s bed. The small foxlike pet had disliked Gregor intensely, Genevieve remembered, and the feeling had been mutual.
Carefully so as not to waken her new husband, Genevieve slid out of bed and opened the stasis field long enough to take out a couple of Gorla’s favorite finger sandwiches before she made her way to the bathroom. Gorla’s fur rippled with pleasure as it changed color to match the food set out.
Putting her hair up to keep it dry, Genevieve eyed her reflection in the mirror. She certainly looked like a woman who had enjoyed her wedding night, she reflected ruefully. Her body was sore in a couple of unaccustomed places too. Strange that Gorla had accepted Gideon so readily, she mused. Comparing the two men was useless because they were so different, Genevieve thought. She was going to have to remember to thank her sister privately for ensuring this relationship was so much better than her last one. Everything about Gideon was different from Gregor not just Gorla’s response to him and his to her. Gideon had seemed determined that she should enjoy their sexual encounters as much as he had. Had they really made love four or five times? She couldn’t remember Gregor being particularly interested in her reactions to sex at all other than to make sure she was available for it.
Genevieve was so lost in thought she jumped in surprise nearly slipping and falling on the slippery floor when the shower door opened and Gideon stepped in. He caught her against his body, easily keeping her from falling.
“Didn’t mean to scare you to death,” he said laughing. “I thought we could wash each other’s backs.”
Genevieve was laughing too. “I’m not used to having company in the shower. I thought you were still asleep and I was trying not to wake you.”
“Well, your Quirka wasn’t so thoughtful; she wanted more food out of the stasis cube, so she tickled me until I woke up and got it for her. I hope you don’t mind. Katherine told us they pretty much eat anything.”
“Little glutton; I fed her too,” Genevieve said indulgently. She handed him a soapy sponge as he talked, and he began running it over her body.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Genevieve grabbed a second sponge and began doing the same to him. “You don’t get it all your own way this time. I get to play too.”
August 14, 2019
ARE YOU A PET PERSON?
Why am I putting this out this now? Well, I just realized that I missed re-posting it this spring. It’s summer now but the need is still great. Here in the San Joaquin valley the summer heat is upon us and many pets are left outside to suffer in the heat. Please leave water out and provide shade if you can’t bring your pets inside, or if you do, for ferals or those animals with less caring owners.
in Pet Rescue Circles, Spring is known as “the killing season”. Hundreds of thousands of kittens, cats, dogs and puppies are put to death each year, but the number doubles during the spring due to so many being born. It’s time to ask yourself: is your pet a member of your family? Would you get rid of your child or your mother because you were moving, and the apartment or house didn’t allow them? If the answer is yes, you don’t deserve to have pets. Sorry if this offends you, but it’s my opinion and I’m not ashamed of it.
I’ve always been a pet person. I grew up a pet person. Not an educated cat or dog person, although I wasn’t aware of it at the time. Does this mean I never went to School? On the contrary. What is a “pet person?”, an “educated pet Person? A real pet person greets the cat or dog upon entering a house; if a human is out walking the dog they usually speak to the pet first; they remember who the person is by what kind of dog or cat they live with; and above all, they would no more dream of getting rid of a cat or dog because they were moving and it was inconvenient to keep them or because they suddenly didn’t match their decorator scheme, than they would get rid of Old Aunt Hattie because she makes horrid apple pies. To them, pets are members of the family, just like their spouses and children. An educated pet person is pretty much the same, but an educated dog person does have a few other characteristics. They can tell you what a puppy mill is, how to obtain information about dog breeders, they may even have the phone number of the American or United Kennel Club and not be too intimidated to use it if they want information. An educated cat person doesn’t let their cats risk their lives out of doors unless they are supervised.
Growing up my family always had a dog and usually a cat. The cats were useful; they diligently hunted vermin, and where they held sway no mice or rats ate the rubber fittings out of the washer or dryer in a garage . They were regarded as an extension of our family; the dogs were—er—dog-kin, as it were. The cats were too sure of their superiority to claim kinship to us.
I was born into a home with two dogs; a lovely, russet cocker spaniel appropriately named Lady (short for Lady Bug) who belonged to my mother and stuck like Velcro to her. We also owned a handsome German Shepard named Colonel, whom my father had obtained from another worker at Douglas Air Base. Despite his military name, our Colonel loved children and had to be removed from the room if my mother wished to discipline me for some childish infraction. He once refused to let a stranger into the front yard when I was playing there (the stranger later proved to be my father’s long-lost younger brother whom he hadn’t seen since the brother was about five).
Our dogs slept in the house, or in the case of my grandmother, in her bed. She claimed a warm Chihuahua kept her blood pressure down, prevented arthritis and lowered her blood pressure. My father would retort that there was no scientific basis for such a claim and that persons who lay down with dogs got up with fleas. He has since been proven wrong about the blood pressure; Doctors now agree that stroking animals DOES lower blood pressure. It’s too bad Granny is no longer with us to rub it in to my father (also passed away—so I can suppose she does this in the afterlife) that she was right, and he was wrong.
I believe my parents aversion to having the dogs sleep with them began with my mother, who once had the unenviable task of assisting my 9-year-old self to remove the residue when I decided to emulate my Grandmother and take one of her Chihuahua pups to bed with me. Since the puppy wasn’t yet housebroken, was too small to get down off the bed, and I didn’t wake up to put her out as I’d promised, you can imagine the messy, smelly result.
My mother’s Chihuahua was brown, with seal points and great dark eyes. She slept in a box by my mother’s bed on a heating pad, whose cover was lovingly washed each week with the household laundry. During the day, she slept on my mother’s lap when she wasn’t eating. Minimal activity and a voracious appetite soon meant that Fifi lost her girlish figure and resembled and overstuffed balloon. She also put my mother’s legs to sleep.
My father’s oversize red Chihuahua, Jiggs, had a divided allegiance. By day he was my father’s shadow on construction sites, going fearlessly up ladders onto roofs, drinking cold coffee out of my father’s cup when he wasn’t looking, and fiercely defending the open windows of the work truck when he was left on guard if my father had to enter a store where dogs weren’t welcomed. By night, he joined my Grandmother and his father and mother in a snoring contest.
As I said, although we loved our pets, we weren’t educated enough to confine our cats to the house, or to get our male (a handsome black cat named Merlin) neutered (my father in misplaced sympathy, refused to have this done because he thought it would make Merlin less of a Tom), so the dogs in the neighborhood lived in fear of him and of our female, Tabby, whose father had been the terror of the neighborhood in his day. Sadly, ourignorance meant that Merlin sired countless kittens, thus contributing to the untimely deaths of his progeny.
Between Colonel, Lady and the Chihuahua’s came the very first dog who considered himself mydog. He was a Sheltie my father rescued from the local dog pound. I was persuaded to call him Laddie once I was convinced that it would be wrong to name a male dog Lassie. Little did my parents or I know of the great cross-dressing hoax perpetrated on unsuspecting America by Hollywood; the real Lassie was, in fact, not a Lassie at all but a Lad. I remember Laddie as the most loving of companions. He would sit patiently through my 4-year old attempts at brushing him. He put up with sand crabs from the beach being given a ride on his back, and herded me back from the water if he thought I was going out too far. He also lent an industrious paw to the excavating of various sand castles.
Despite the parade of Chihuahua’s and other small dogs that my family collected, I didn’t find another dog who accepted me as his person until after I graduated from High School. He was a Terrier/Poodle mix who was born to my mother’s pocket-size terrier. I christened him Maxwell because his personality reminded me of a naughty computer in a science fiction book I was reading at the time. For the next 17 years, he was my constant companion. Max had medium-long, soft red fur with a blond fuzzy undercoat. He was a true terrier; determined, fierce in battle, always ready for adventure, and endlessly faithful. Like all terriers, he obeyed me only when hethought it was warranted. He loved to play fetch. He once wore the pads of his feet raw chasing a stick thrown by my husband’s younger brother. As far as he was concerned, any dog bigger than he was had better be able to prove it. Surprisingly, he never got even a scratch out of all the fights he started. When I got married, he took to hunting with my husband as if born to it; flushing pheasant out from under bushes and chasing ducks at the slough.
His influence was great; I once decided a potential boyfriend just wouldn’t do because Max didn’t like him. If the truth be told the feeling was mutual. Max expressed his displeasure by attempting the hike his leg on the young man at every opportunity, and when the young man had the audacity to state that dogs belonged outside it was the end. Max was tenacious. When he laid a tooth on a stick, you could literally lift the stick off the ground with him attached if he wasn’t ready to let it go.
My new husband was a hunter, so one of our first mutual purchase after a waterbed was a hunting dog. At first, Vernon attempted to perpetrate to me the myth (passed on in urtro to apprentice hunters) that if a hunting dog became a pet he would be unable to attend to business properly when taken out in the field. I suspect this myth originated with someone’s poorly trained hunting dog and reverberated down through unsuspecting junior hunters because hunting is an apprentice sport; either you learn it as a child from your male relatives or are introduced to it as an adult by a friend/spouse. At any rate, after I explained that no dog who lived with us was going to be isolated we decided on a Brittany.
Brittanies are sweet, loving companions. They are also fierce hunters and will go all day and be ready to go the next morning despite any stiffness or injury. Besides, they’re beautiful with their orange and white coats criss-crossing a brushy field, freezing on point, or flashing back in a retrieve. As an artist, I fell in love with their gorgeous fall-colored coats and with their equally gorgeous personalities. My husband, always a sucker for red-heads, also fell in love with their hunting ability.
Being “uneducated dog people” after deciding on a hunting dog breed, we searched the want ads in the local paper for Brittiany puppies. Because no one had ever made a movie popularizing them, most Brittany’s obtained even from so-called “back yard breeders’ (meaning they have never heard of genetics or breeding for the better of the breed) still come from good stock.
We named our first Brittany Duchess. I nicknamed her “baby alligator” because she never found ANYTHING she wouldn’t chew. Everyone in the house (apart from my mother who put hers in a drawer) lost at least one pair of shoes. When scolded for leaving a puddle in the floor, she ran to my husband and complained loudly about my behavior.
We have had a variety of Brittanies over the years. My husband and I discovered Brittanies are large dogs disguised in a medium dog package. They have endless energy and find unorthodox ways of amusing themselves if they are not kept occupied. We once made the mistake of leaving an 8-month-old puppy alone in the house while we walked to neighborhood fair. When we returned three hours later, we found he had occupied himself in our absence with the destruction of a footstool. The entire living room was covered in shredded foam and upholstery fabric. We also learned to tolerate a game we called “freeway” which consisted of dogs chasing each other through the house sometimes in pursuit of a thrown tennis ball, but also just for the sheer joy of running.
During this time I was learning to be an educated dog person. By sheer chance I picked up a copy of a dog magazine at a local pet store and my education began. About this time, we also obtained our first Brittany from a regular breeder and were astonished by the catechism he put us through, never having encountered it before. Apparently, we passed muster because we were allowed to depart with a puppy. From my reading, I later learned that responsible breeders ALWAYS want to know how you are going to raise “their” puppy, what kind of yard you have, how much you know about the breed, etc. The pup we got was beautiful and energetic with a firmer temperament than those we had obtained from our backyard breeders. Of course, he also devoured stuffed animals, climbed the tree in the backyard (I have pictures) and chased rats in the garage through my husband’s floor-to-ceiling storage shelves. He’s a Brittany.
After I lost Maxwell to old age, it was several years before I again found a dog who would claim me. Her name was Missy Shep (she was border collie and something very hairy—I suspect Samoyed from her smile). My husband found her shivering out by the equipment at one of his commercial pool sites early one fall morning. When no one claimed her (it was a “no pets” complex) we kept her. She learned to sit up when she was a few weeks old and if you opened the refrigerator, she came and “uped” for you, which made it very hard to resist giving her a treat. When she got large enough for it to become a chore to give her a bath in our tub, I took her in to be groomed. When I picked her up, the groomers gave me the kind of look parents give one another when a child is spoiled rotten. They explained that they had to teach her that she couldn’t lie down either in the tub or on the grooming table. Of course, I knew she did this; it was one of the reasons I had taken her there instead of grooming her myself. Since she now weighed about 50 pounds I had concluded it was easier to give in and let her lie down. She preferred a pillow under her head when she was brushed also.
I also educated my son to become a dog person (an educated one I hope). His Brittany was a sweet, liver and white miss who liked to sit in laps and cuddle. She slept in his room by his bed. Like all Brittanies she had less-than-perfect night vision and once woke the entire house by shrilly sounding an alarm when I entered his room after he was asleep. I don’t know why Brittanys night vision is so poor, but I suspect it may be because upland game birds are usually hunted in the daylight. However, after years of being barked at by our own dogs when we made midnight trips to the bathroom, we learned to leave lights on for them at night. After Anna passed away from old age, Andrew became a cat person, although he tolerates dogs he is familiar with.
My baby girl passed away several years ago just after Christmas. She developed a bladder blockage and when the vet explained she might not survive the expensive surgery because of her age, I said goodbye to her in the vets office with her head in my lap. I mourned her loss for almost a year; I put old dog tags on our Christmas tree as a part of the decorations. It was almost the next fall before I could bring myself to take it down. It was like saying goodbye a second time.
