Chapter Eleven

Drak was stewing as he escorted Noelle back along the corridor to the stairs. He wasn’t certain who he was most pissed off with—his son or Noelle.

He supposed both.

But he was having some difficulty swallowing that his son had tried to filch his woman when Terl hadn’t shown that he was particularly aggressive and had never defied him before.

It was almost as impossible to imagine Noelle seducing his son. She’d yielded to him every time he had initiated intimacy, but she certainly hadn’t sought him out and he rather thought she would have if she was that type of woman.

She couldn’t possibly prefer a male that was barely old enough to be considered a man!

So if what he thought he’d seen wasn’t what he’d thought, what was it?

“It wasn’t what you thought,” Noelle said, almost as if she read his thoughts.

“How would you know what I think? Do you read minds?”

Noelle considered just allowing the subject to drop, but she couldn’t see doing that when it seemed to her that the incident might have caused friction between father and son. “We were studying the drawing I did and I said something and we just happened to glance at each other at the same time. I didn’t realize he was so close and obviously he didn’t either.”

“What did you say that made him glance at you?”

“I don’t remember,” Noelle lied. She glanced up at Drak to see how he took it and realized he didn’t believe her—not that part anyway. “Ok, so I said if I was still here in the spring ….”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Drak said quickly.

“That’s what he said, but exactly how am I supposed to know how long I’ll be here when nobody told me?”

Drak stopped and looked down at her with a mixture of annoyance, amusement, and curiosity … as if he was trying to figure out how she could be so dense! After studying her for a long moment, he shook his head and resumed walking, tugging her along with him as he had before.

Noelle gaped at him as it slowly sank in that she had no idea whether or not they ever intended to return her to her people again. She didn’t know where or when or how or why she’d gotten the idea that they would eventually take her home and let her go, but it dawned on her then that she’d made a baseless assumption … because they had all assumed that the women of this species lived alone on their new colony world. And when she’d discovered there were men of the same species on the sister planet, she’d decided they must have a reason for living on separate planets and that the men must only hold the women in captivity briefly and then return them.

Otherwise wouldn’t there be women on this planet?

Faulty reasoning or not, it was that assumption that had made it possible for her to remain calm and assume a positive attitude about her situation. Not that she would’ve tried to fight anyway. That only provoked men’s aggressive tendencies and in a contest of strength between a man and a woman the woman always lost. The only option to that sort of thing in her situation was to comply and hope yielding would prevent the male from deciding to break her instead. Unfortunately, that didn’t always work, but a woman stood a better chance at soothing the savage beast than overwhelming him with superior strength.

And there was no sense in lying to herself about it. He hadn’t had to rape her.

She’d realized as soon as she’d calmed down from her original fright that he was a damned fine looking specimen and he had lulled her fears of assault both by distancing himself and by not forcing himself on her. By the time he’d gotten around to having sex with her she’d been willing. It hadn’t been an act of self-preservation. She’d been pretty damned wound up and ready to test the waters.

Her interest in him had developed into something unexpected, probably something it shouldn’t have.

Unless one considered the possibility of psychological effects from being captured.

Truthfully, as far as they’d been able to ascertain, the reaction women had of developing affection for their captors was as primitive as the male propensity toward aggression when it came to sex. Self-control was a civilized veneer that was so thin it didn’t take much to over set the balance and step over the line onto the wild side.

So she knew she couldn’t actually trust her feelings toward Drak. She did find him physically attractive and she’d seen a good bit to admire about him beyond that in the way he behaved toward others and the respect his men clearly felt for him.

But she was still a captive and her primitive instincts for survival were in play.

Maybe she truly felt an emotional bond developing and maybe it was all in her head.

In any case, all she could really do was to play and along and make the best of the situation while she waited for it to be resolved.

She couldn’t leave. She knew she wouldn’t survive five minutes on this hostile world on her own and she didn’t know that she could find the ship that had brought her or pilot it if she did. The colonists might or might not try to mount a rescue mission once they found out where she was.

Otherwise, all she could do was wait to be released and, right or wrong, she’d convinced herself that was not just a possibility but a likelihood.

She’d figured, while she waited, she might as well make the most of her situation and further her understanding of these ‘neighbors’ both from a scientific standpoint and from a political one. They needed to understand the customs and thought processes of these people in order to promote peace between them and enable the colony to thrive.

She supposed that misconception had been bolstered by Terl’s somewhat insulting statement that Drak was trying to find some use for her since he had no interest in breeding her—that and Kadin’s earlier comment that had been very insulting.

Well, Drak himself had said he was trying to think of a use for her.

So, evidently the use he’d decided to try was to see if she was technologically savvy enough to figure out how his ‘treasures’ worked and fix any that could be fixed.

She tried not to feel insulted that he considered her brain more desirable, apparently, than he did her as a woman.

She was relieved he’d decided he didn’t care to breed her!

Because she sure as hell didn’t want to be bred by him!

She was pretty sure he couldn’t breed her even though one of the requirements of being a colonist was to dispense with birth control for the first couple of years and limit the use of it thereafter—What was the use in building a colony, after all, if they had no progeny to leave it to after them? They weren’t the same species even if there didn’t appear to be much difference physically and that made crossbreeding an unlikely possibility.

She couldn’t be certain, though, could she? Unlikely didn’t mean it was impossible.

Could she really afford to ignore that and just keep hoping for the best?

But what else could she do?

She wasn’t on the same planet as the other colonists! It wasn’t as if all she had to do was sneak out and run to the colony and bolt the damned door!

If she could get clean away, escape and actually reach the colony, even if he came after her—and she couldn’t see that she was valuable enough to him for him to do that—she’d be safe because she was sure they didn’t have the technology to breach the colony’s security features.

The question was, was there any possibility in hell that she could pull that off?

Noelle was so deep in thought that when Drak stopped her and opened a door panel, pulling her through, she was completely disoriented when she discovered it wasn’t the same door they’d gone through when they’d headed down.

She didn’t recognize anything about the portion of the castle she saw when they emerged.

But maybe it was just the different perspective?

She realized almost as soon as he turned down a narrow corridor that it wasn’t her viewpoint that was at fault. They hadn’t emerged from the same door they’d used when they’d gone down. They weren’t even on the same floor.

Apparently, she’d missed a landing.

Drak escorted her to a door that led directly into the great hall. A meal seemed to be in full swing—or possibly a party. It was hard to say. The men seemed to have been partying almost non-stop since they’d returned from the raid.

She’d assumed that from the level of noise that filtered up to the room where she’d been staying but maybe they were always that noisy? After all there were a lot of people—the room was huge but still full enough to be crowded.

Drak led her to the same area where she’d been taken before—a seat before the enormous fireplace that was used to sort of heat the room.

She actually thought the people generated as much or more of the heat.

This time, however, there was a table set up.

Drak looked around when they reached the table. Spying a chair close at hand, he grabbed it and shoved it up to the table opposite his own chair.

The unfortunate man who’d been using the chair failed to notice Drak had taken his chair when he stood up. He sprawled on the floor when he made to return to the seat and everyone within view laughed uproariously.

Noelle had a hard time refraining from joining them, but she thought her own reaction was more from shock than actual amusement.

The man scrambled to his feet with a roar of fury and whirled to see who’d snatched his chair out from under him.

The expression on his face when he met Drak’s cool look was almost more comical than the fall. It instantly deflated his anger. “My lord!”

“Yes?” Drak responded coolly.

The man grinned a little sickly. “I beg your pardon.”

Drak nodded imperiously and moved to his own chair. “Send someone to fetch my dinner and my woman’s.”

The man blinked at him rapidly and finally nodded, turned, and staggered off.

Drak propped an arm on the table, supporting his chin with his fist as he watched the man’s progress. “I wonder if he will make it to the kitchen,” he muttered.

Apparently he was sober enough to realize he’d been given a task he was expected to complete. He appeared to be lost for a little while, but he finally managed to collar a server and sent the youth back in the direction he’d come from.

When Drak returned his attention to his companion, he discovered a look on her face as she surveyed the great hall that he could only interpret as revulsion.

Surprised and vaguely insulted, he turned to study the room himself, searching for what she’d seen that she found disgusting.

He didn’t see anything in particular and glanced toward Noelle again. She was studying the table top, her hands in her lap, but as he looked at her, she transferred her gaze to the floor and then the occupants of the room, flicking a glance at first one and then another.

Still somewhat insulted and confused, he focused on trying to see whatever it was that she was looking at and, slowly, his vision adjusted until he was seeing what he generally ignored.

Filth.

And, almost as if the expansion of his vision to see what he’d previously ignored enabled his other senses to expand, he began to notice the unpleasant smells that surrounded them—and felt his ears begin to vibrate from the excessive noise.

This, he realized, abruptly feeling as if he’d stepped out of his own body and become an observer rather than a participant, was what Noelle saw, heard, and smelled as an outsider.

He abruptly fully understood why she was repulsed.

And he was angry that she had the audacity to judge them!

Who was she to judge them!

An outsider! An alien being who clearly thought she was better than them!

He was still angry enough when the boy finally arrived with food and drink for him and his companion that he it took all he could do to refrain from knocking the boy flat when he discovered the tray used to bring his food looked as filthy as the floor!

Instead, after struggling with his temper for a few moments, he dismissed it. Lifting his mug, he drank deeply.

Noelle, he saw, hadn’t touched either the food or the drink.

Feeling his gaze, she glanced at him, reddened, and then began to pick carefully at the food.

Drak brooded over it for a while, still angry, wrestling with the urge to pick a fight so that he could tell her what he thought about her superior attitude.

He was still more than a little miffed at catching her virtually in the act of kissing his eldest son if it came to that—her lame explanation be damned!

He wasn’t in the habit, however, of allowing his temper to gain the upper hand. On the battlefield, it could mean a swift and ignominious death. Politically, a habit of allowing his temper to overrule good judgment could end up costing him his realm.

Instead, he focused on his food—ignoring the dirt as he generally did, although it was harder now that it had been brought to his attention. He was also careful to go easy on the brew in his mug and not drink enough to muddle his thinking.

The food and drink soothed his temper as he filled his empty belly and as his anger cooled, he studied his surroundings with a little less bias than before.

It was filthy. There was no getting around that or even excusing it on the grounds that it simply couldn’t be helped and therefore had to be accepted. They were crowded, but that just made it all the worse that no one made any attempt to clean up the mess they made. The servants were no better. Clearly, they only made the minimum effort to serve, bringing the food and drink when necessary and collecting the mugs, plates and utensils afterward but very little beyond that.

Nothing that was spilled on the floor was cleaned up beyond what the rodents, insects, and hunting maks took care of.

He could recall his father saying all creatures needed to eat.

And his mother, who’d provoked the comment by her complaints, pointing out that they didn’t have to feed underfoot. The scraps could be gathered in another place to feed them where the stench wouldn’t be so overwhelming and disgusting.

And if the maks weren’t allowed to roam the hall in search of food they wouldn’t be pissing and defecating all over the place and adding to the stench.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to clean things up a little?

For his own comfort.

* * * *

Noelle was torn between absolute fascination as she studied the hall and its occupants and horror and disgust. She’d heard about primitive societal behavior—from Monica—and before that from Grandmother, who’d had an interest in history that coincided with her interest in her family line. She’d even read about some of the customs and behavior of early man, but she’d never imagined what the reality of it must have been like.

Of course this wasn’t Earth and these weren’t the people who’d occupied that time. She was certain there were as many differences as there were similarities, but the filth—well, she’d read about the grossly unsanitary conditions of mankind’s civilization—and apparently mankind weren’t the only ones that had taken a while to elevate themselves from lower animals in that respect. Right up until the twenty first century, in the poor countries, diseases ran rampant because of the horribly unsanitary conditions.

Ignorance played a huge part in that. They apparently didn’t know that living in their own filth would make them vulnerable to diseases and weaken them at the same time. She was inclined to think laziness also played a part, but that was harder to determine since survival depended on finding or growing enough food to eat and that was pretty much a full time job—not really leaving a lot of time or energy for cleaning.

She supposed that could be said to be true about this species, as well. Terl had said they were only able to grow food during a very short growing season and that meant that they must spend a lot of time hunting food to supplement. Men were prone to be more muscular—at least human men and that was certainly true of Drak so she thought she could assume it was true of the others, as well. And muscle required more calories for maintenance.

Of course, they seemed to conserve their energy when they weren’t out hunting.

But maybe that was a class thing? Maybe the warrior class was too good to stoop to cleaning? And there didn’t seem to be much of a servant class.

The women, apparently, weren’t expected to do anything but adorn their beds and breed.

“What do you think?”

Startled out of her thoughts, Noelle merely stared at Drak blankly. “About what?”

He gave her a look. “As an … outsider, what do you think?”

Noelle felt her face heating. “Actually, I’m a scientist—so even though this isn’t really my field, I’m try to just observe and collect data—and not make conclusions until there’s enough data to suggest a trend … if you know what I mean.” She smiled at him with an effort.

“Actually, no. I do not know what you mean.”

Noelle blinked at him. “Well, it’s just guessing, you know, until you’ve gathered enough facts to arrive at a … uh … factual conclusion.”

“So what are your preliminary notes?” he asked with patently false pleasantness.

Noelle cringed inside, frantically searching her mind for an escape. She cleared her throat uneasily when nothing immediately came to mind, struggling to fight down another blush of self-consciousness and trying to figure out if her observations might be construed as insulting to him or not. She supposed that depended, largely, on her tone. It could certainly be taken that way, she knew, if she wasn’t careful, but if she didn’t allow a judgmental note to enter her voice, then he surely wouldn’t think she was being insulting?

Or think she was trying to be.

“Well, as I said, this isn’t really my area. There does seem to be an issue with sanitation ….”

Drak looked at her blankly when she threw in the English word.

Noelle decided she didn’t actually want to explain it to him on second thought. She was pretty sure she’d be insulted if anybody looked at her place and said ‘My god! It’s so nasty!’

Trying to think of something to distract him, she fortuitously recalled her visit to his treasure room and the things she’d seen there. “I was wondering if I might be able to talk to that … uh … teller you mentioned that keeps the stories of the tribe? I was really interested in the legend about the two worlds. I think, if it’s true that explains the regression I see here.

“I mean this stage of development is strongly reminiscent of the medieval period on my home world, Earth, as far as I can see, but that was early in man’s development. Relatively early and it seems to me—from the technology—that your people were much more developed at one time and must have suffered a serious setback.

“I was just wondering, since it seems that must have happened a very long time ago, why it was that your civilization hadn’t caught up again.

“But maybe that’s because the women don’t live here? I’m pretty sure most of the advances we made on Earth was because of women—because women like to have a comfortable nest, if you know what I mean, and men don’t seem to care much about whether they’re physically comfortable or not. Or … uh … they’re able to be comfortable in far less … uh … comfortable circumstances.”

Oh my god! Somebody sew my mouth shut! This is getting worse and worse!

“There were similar incidents on Earth throughout its long history—nothing on this scale, of course, but that wiped out earlier attempts to build a civilization …. So I sort of have some examples to compare this with. Well, what I mean is the people who know far more about this sort of thing than I do would be able to take the data I collected and use it to come to a better understanding ….”

Drak emptied his cup and set it on the table with a resounding thunk, shoved his chair back and got up. Before Noelle could bound to her feet, he reached her, lifted her straight up from her chair and tossed her across one shoulder.

She nearly lost the little food she’d been able to consume when she landed on that broad blade belly first.

Hoot’s and catcalls followed them across the great hall and all the way up the stairs.