Hive War by David VanDyke & B. V. Larson

Author:David VanDyke & B. V. Larson [VanDyke, David & Larson, B. V.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Iron Tower Press
Published: 2018-08-25T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

With the Bortoks, at the Mak Deen’s encampment

Within the hour, Straker was married again, at least according to the laws of the Bortoks. In his own mind, he didn’t consider himself wed to anyone but Carla, but at the same time he had to acknowledge that he’d made a pact, a commitment, to the Mak Deen and to Zurenia.

He rationalized it by telling himself that his heart would only ever belong to Carla, but the fate of millions was worth making this sacrifice. The trick would be rationalizing it to Carla. Like most women he’d known, she believed the worst about men’s lusts.

When the ceremony was over, the Bortoks carried the bride and groom, cheering, to a luxurious pavilion. There, they deposited them at the doorway.

“Enjoy your marriage bed,” Nazeer said, straightfaced. “She is a virgin, so be kind.”

Straker merely raised his eyebrows. What could he say to that? Besides, it wasn’t any of the Mak Deen’s business what went on between a man and his new wife. Nazeer had twisted Straker’s arm on this, so he didn’t get to dictate terms.

But he tried. “We will see the bloody furs at dawn,” Nazeer said.

Bloody furs? Straker racked his memory. Some Old Earth cultures expected the new couple to hang bloody sheets out the window after consummation, to prove the bride’s maidenhood had been ended.

Straker nodded. “You shall have them. But first, a custom from my own people.” He turned and swept up Zurenia in his arms, carrying her across the threshold.

Behind him, Nazeer drew the curtain.

Within, Straker saw the pavilion was divided into concentric rings of hangings. His feet sank into soft layers of fur. He resolved not to look too closely at the furs, in case any were of the fur people. He already felt damned by this deal with the devil; he could hardly be damned further.

Instead, he set Zurenia down. She was short and slim for a Bortok, but still overtopped him by several centimeters even after she kicked off her wedding sandals.

She took his hand, her face glowing. “Come, husband. Let us partake of the delights of our bodies.”

Straker led her inward to the center, to a pile of furs that formed a bed. Here, the sounds of the camp were muffled by the many thick hangings. Light leaked in from small screened panels in the roof, but there was barely enough to see.

“You don’t strike me as a virgin,” Straker said in a low voice.

Zurenia smiled, sloe-eyed as she drew off her heavy golden headdress, revealing lovely black eyes and dark hair framing a high, intelligent forehead. “I will not strike you at all, unless you wish it, my Azaltar.”

Straker took that as confirmation. The Mak Deen’s sister looked to be much more experienced than commonly acknowledged. Nazeer couldn’t be so naïve, so he was playing this for the public. For some reason, that made him feel a lot better. It would still be cheating on Carla, technically, but at least he wasn’t deflowering some poor young girl in the process.

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