Stud (38 page)

“Even in Reltan they’re pretty fierce but blow themselves out quickly. I’ve heard these mountain storms are more violent, though.”

Tarq nodded as though this confirmed his suspicions. “Kotcamp says he saw a vrelnot flying down below, but it never came up this high.”

“It’s probably best that we didn’t have a campfire. Would’ve been nice, though. I really enjoyed sitting around the fire, talking and watching you make arrowheads.”

“We’ll probably miss a lot of things about that cave before we’re through, but everything will be better when we get to Noklar.”

Lucy nodded her agreement, but wasn’t convinced. Some of the best times of her life had happened while living in that cave with their little band of alien outcasts. Reaching Noklar would put an end to all that, along with several other things she’d miss—like sitting with Tarq’s arm around her while the storm raged outside. She closed her eyes, committing to memory every nuance of this moment—Tarq so solid and strong beside her, his chest the perfect resting place for her head, the howl of the wind, the flashes of lightning that lit up the mountainside beyond—storing them up for comfort in the lonely times ahead.

What would he say if she told him how much she loved him? Doubtless he’d heard similar declarations from countless other women—women who, like herself, never wanted to let him go. Did he realize how many broken hearts he’d left behind him along with all of those babies? If so, he evidently deemed it worthwhile in order to perpetuate the Zetithian species, just as he deemed it worthwhile to prostitute himself. Jublansk was probably right when she’d said he enjoyed what he did. Lucy had never doubted that he derived pleasure from mating with her, even though she wasn’t as beautiful or shapely as someone like, say, Natasha. Apparently it didn’t matter to him. He could pretend to love anyone.

And he did it so well. If Lucy hadn’t known better, she would have believed his every word and every loving gesture. Her eyes filled with tears as she wrestled with the pitfalls of falling in love with such an excellent actor. Not only did he have everyone else convinced that he loved her, he’d also gone a long way toward convincing her. If only it were true.

But it couldn’t be. Generally speaking, men didn’t fall in love with Lucy, no matter how much they liked her chocolate pie, and she couldn’t blame it all on her father’s irascible behavior. Though both Walkuta and Tarq had said Vertigan was interested, Lucy still hadn’t seen any evidence of it and wasn’t sure she believed it—and even if he had been, it was only due to a lack of options. Vertigan had been living in the mountains without female companionship for at least three months prior to their arrival. Desperation was undoubtedly a factor, not unlike Tarq’s physiological reaction to her pregnancy. It had nothing to do with her as a person.

The storm raged on, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil in her heart. Tears as heavy as rain poured down her cheeks as she asked herself if she loved Tarq as a person and not just for what he was. She would spend the rest of her life pondering this difficult question; her only wish was that she could do it with him by her side, just as he was now.

“Morning will be here before you know it, Lucy. Think you could go back to sleep for a while?”

Of course. Her presence by his side was distracting him from his duties as sentry. It was thoughtless of her to sit there crying, which likely made her scent that much stronger. “Probably not,” she said at last. “But I guess I should try. By tomorrow night, I’m sure I’ll wish I had.”

He gave her another squeeze, brushing her hair with a kiss. “Vertigan has the next watch, so I’ll be back with you soon.”

“Okay.” She got to her feet, forcing herself to keep from drawing attention to her tears by wiping them away. Bless him; he even made it sound as though being with her was the part he looked forward to most. Oh, yes, he played the part of a loving husband all too well. She permitted herself a brief touch on his shoulder when she wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him and kiss him endlessly. Instead, she pressed the fingers that had touched him to her lips as she walked away.

“Not feeling well?” Vertigan’s voice sounded out of the nearby darkness as Lucy settled back down to wait for Tarq. “Or is the storm keeping you awake?”

“The storm mostly,” she replied.

“Do you need…?” Vertigan didn’t finish his question, but given all she’d heard, Lucy had a sneaking suspicion she knew what he’d been about to say. “Are you afraid?”

It was as good an excuse as any. “Sort of, but I’ll be okay. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I do,” he said. “Worry about you, that is. I should have thought about what it would be like for you to give birth out here in the wilderness. But I…” He blew out a pent-up breath. “Let’s just say I wasn’t anxious to leave the cave because the closer we get to Noklar, the closer I’ll be to never seeing you again.”

“I won’t be—” Lucy caught herself just in time, thankful he couldn’t see her expression of dismay. “What I mean is, once we get through this, I’ll probably visit my family now and then. And I’d like to keep in touch with Nat.” Swallowing hard, she tried to think of what else to say. How much easier would it be to simply tell him the truth? “So I’ll be around.”

“True. But it won’t be the same.”

“Nothing ever is.” Everything would change once they reached the spaceport. Tarq would meet up with his friends and she would never see him again. She would probably see Vertigan though. Forcing a laugh, she added, “Not sure we’d want it to be. Or do you think you’ll look back on the time you spent here in the mountains as ‘the good old days’?”

“That depends on what happens next.”

If her suspicions were correct, Vertigan would probably be pleased with the turn of events. Tarq would break her foolish heart and Vertigan would be there to pick up the pieces. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I guess we will.”

Lucy knew she had to end this conversation before she broke down and told him everything. She wasn’t quite ready for that. “Good night then.”

“Sleep well. I’ll be taking the next watch, and I promise to do my best to keep you safe.”

She thanked him but knew that though he might be able to shield her from the weather and the vrelnots, for the heartache that lay ahead, there was no protection.

Chapter 25

The next several days were spent dodging storms and rockslides. “And to think, we were worried about vrelnots,��� Terufen grumbled as Kotcamp pulled him to his feet for the fifth time in as many hours. Tarq had assumed that Terufen would have less trouble than the others navigating through loose stones, but his flipper-like feet only gripped the rocks, not the mud beneath them. As a result, he was skidding more than he was standing. Tarq was about to offer to carry him when Kotcamp transformed into an ape-like creature with broad shoulders and long hairy arms.

“The better to carry you,” Kotcamp said as he hoisted Terufen onto his back.

Terufen beamed. “Ah ha! He even comes with a Herpatronian feature. I
like
it!”

“You wouldn’t like me if I really
was
a Herpatronian,” Kotcamp said with a shake of his round, snub-nosed head. “Nasty, hateful creatures as a rule. Not friendly at all.”

“None of that, now,” Traldeck scolded. “That’s the kind of attitude that got us all kicked out of Yalka.”

Kotcamp shifted Terufen up onto his shoulders. “If they were kicking out Herpatronians, I probably would’ve helped them. About got the shit beat out of me by one of them once. Had to turn myself into one just to defend myself.”

“And what happened then?” Lucy prompted.

“I beat the shit out of him,” Kotcamp replied. “He wasn’t much of a pugilist, really. Very erratic with his punches. Longer arms, though. Gave him the advantage until I evened up the odds.”

Lucy chuckled along with everyone else and it warmed Tarq’s heart to hear her laughter—something he hadn’t heard for several days. Granted, there hadn’t been much to smile about, but even when they camped for the night, she’d been very subdued. Not having the chance to exchange more than a few words with her during the day didn’t help matters, and it left him wondering if he was somehow responsible for her mood. In the evenings, she was understandably tired, and with the others sleeping so closely nearby, sex was out of the question. Mornings were the worst. Silent to the point of surliness, she ate very little and frequently withdrew from the group, going off on her own with only the dog for company. Tarq was worried about her; he just didn’t know what to do about it.

They marched on. The day was fine for a change, the sky a clear blue with puffy white clouds and no hint of a storm. Birds—small ones—sang as they soared overhead, and the crisp air was seasoned with the scent of herbs. The terrain had changed slightly, becoming more rocky and open with no trees to speak of; only coarse grasses and a few shrubby plants dotted the mountainside.

That morning they came upon a grazing herd of what Vertigan identified as qualskins, goatlike animals with thick brown pelts and long, flowing tails. The flock scattered quickly, but Kotcamp was able to bring down one of the smaller ones with his bola. Traldeck gutted it, leaving the entrails for Rufus, who wolfed them down with gusto.

Fresh meat was certainly a plus after days of eating dried dranik, but what was more encouraging was that they had finally turned east. Tarq could see open sky out beyond the mountains now, as opposed to the endless peaks they’d seen when traveling north or south, and beneath that open sky lay the river valley.

Later that afternoon, Rufus returned from a scouting mission and reported to Vertigan that he’d found a campsite up ahead that would provide cover in the event of a storm. Upon their arrival, they found an outcropping of rock with a sheltered place beneath it, which, though relatively deep, had a ceiling barely high enough for Tarq to stand upright. Vines covered with large purple blossoms cascaded down from the overhang, forming a curtain that partially blocked the interior from view.

Though not nearly as well protected as their first location had been, it was still better than lying out in the open with nothing but boughs of cripwood to camouflage their sleeping forms, which was how they’d spent the previous night. If a vrelnot was ever going to attack them, that would have been the time, Tarq decided. Even when he was off watch, he had slept fitfully with his bow in one hand, an arrow already nocked, while the other rested on Lucy’s hip. The only explanation for their safety was the ritual Walkuta performed each evening.

She was in the process of blessing or protecting or sanctifying—Tarq wasn’t sure which applied—their current site when Lucy scampered off once again.

Tarq watched her go, muttering, “What is
wrong
with her?”

Natasha snorted a laugh. “Wake up, birdbrain. She’s pregnant.”

“So?”

“You know… morning sickness?”

Tarq shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Natasha gaped at him as though he’d lost what was left of his mind. “She’s probably just over the hill there puking her guts out.”

Tarq was horrified. “Being pregnant makes her
sick
?”

“I’m guessing he’s never had a pregnant wife before, let alone a human one,” Bratol said with an air of diplomacy. “I would imagine that Zetithian women do not suffer that misery.”

“Not that I’ve ever heard,” Tarq said. He stood facing the direction that Lucy had gone and, sure enough, she was quite pale when she came back into view. “But that explains a lot.”

“I was
never
ill when I was expecting,” Crilla said smugly. “Had no problems whatsoever.”

“No, you didn’t,” Faletok grumbled. “That distinctive pleasure was left for me to enjoy.”

Natasha crowed with laughter. “Are you saying that Vetlan
men
get morning sickness?”

Faletok’s droopy-eyed expression was even more dismal than usual. “Every morning and every night. It’s a pheromone that pregnant Vetlas produce. Made me swear off sex entirely for a couple of years.”

Traldeck was smiling. “Built-in birth control.”

“And quite effective,” Crilla said with a nod. “But he got over it.”

“To my everlasting regret,” Faletok mourned. “That last child was a royal pain in the—”

“What’d I miss?” Lucy asked as she rejoined the party.

“A discussion about morning sickness,” Tarq snapped. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt bad?”

Lucy shrugged. “It’s a perfectly normal symptom, and there’s nothing you can do about it anyway. I’ll be better in a couple of months.”

“
A couple of months
!” Tarq was beside himself. “You’ll—you’ll
die
if you can’t keep any food down. How have humans managed to survive?”

Walkuta waved her hands for silence. “I believe I can help.”

Lucy shuddered. “If you’re going to suggest that I drink cripwood tea, I don’t want to hear it. That stuff makes me gag even when I’m
not
nauseated.” Addressing Tarq, she went on, “And I won’t die. Like I said, it’s
normal
for me to feel this way.”