Married to the Enemy - 4. Threat Assessed

I got up early while Kertyn slept. Before I got up, I touched his shoulder, shaking him slightly to check if he’d wake up, but he was solidly dreaming, the covers tucked against his neck against the morning chill. There was an old uniform in my closet, clean if a bit musty, from before the last campaign against Verlast.

I had a call to make and the Tuothic should be alerted before I did so. He was cranky when I pulled him away from his wife, but we went way back, so I knew his grumbles were harmless.

“What is it, Zaran?” Markin yawned. “It’s the morning after your Vagal night. You’re supposed to sleep ‘til mid-afternoon so everyone can tease you, not get up at the first turn of the clock.”

His joking was lost on me. I’d had time to consider what I’d learned from my husband the night before. I was grim when I explained about the devotions the filthy Verlast priest had forced Kertyn to participate in.

“I want to know if his father knew about this. My husband deserves to know that the man who took his innocence will be punished. If he knew, and sent his son who had been so recently sullied by such perversion, then I will demand recompense from the Verlast.”

Markin nodded once. “I understand.” He grimaced. “Breaking peace not yet a day old could look bad though.” He was the Tuothic, and it was his duty to think of all our people, but I was growing angrier the longer I thought about the amazement Kertyn showed whenever he was touched, or when I told him he could touch me.

“I don’t care!” I snapped. “Kertyn deserves peace.”

“Was he that upset? Verlast ways are not ours.”

“He’s Nembero now. He was from the moment the treaty promised him to me, yet the priest still touched him, used him. What would you have done, if Balla’s father had allowed such a thing to happen to her before you wed? I won’t stand for it.” I knew he would’ve killed Balla’s father and any other man who had a hand in harming his precious wife. I didn’t love Kertyn, not yet, but we had a chance to make something good out of the marriage forced on us. But not until the stain on the priest’s honor was expunged. I squared my shoulders. “I’m requesting permission to contact the Verlast king now.”

“You do realize it’s still the middle of the night their time,” he pointed out.

“Tough.”

Markin sighed. “Fine. I understand how you feel”—he put a restraining hand on my shoulder—“but remember the men and women whose lives you hold in the balance of this wrong, both Verlast and Nembero.”

I scowled but nodded reluctantly. “I’ll try to avoid restarting the war.” I’d try, but if I had to I’d raze the priest’s temple to the ground with him inside, personally if necessary.

It took a while for the call to go through space. I paced angrily around the communications room, shoving the rolling chairs out of my way whenever I got too close to the conference table. Eventually a shimmering hologram appeared in the front of the room above the receiver.

“Is there a reason why I was summoned at such an ungodly hour?” Kertyn’s father’s voice held all the haughty affront I’d expected from his son. I sent another wordless prayer of thanks to the Nembero gods that hadn’t been so.

“Of course there is.” Markin bowed his head. Tynfor grudgingly accorded him the same hostility, barely holding his neck at the proper angle. “Your son arrived yesterday evening, and the treaty was fulfilled.”

“I was aware of that last night. What has the boy done now?” Tynfor’s eyes narrowed.

“He has done nothing!” I strode forward, standing squarely in front of the Verlast king’s hologram. “It is what was done to him that you must answer for!”

Tynfor reared back. Fear snaked across his narrow features before he smothered it and schooled his expression to a blank mask. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your son informed me that he was kept secluded, except for a Stygianius priest.”

The king spread his hands apart as he leaned forward. “For his own protection, due to his status as Chosen and the purpose the priest assured me he would one day be ready for… but only with daily instruction.”

Daily instruction? “You have to be fucking kidding me!” I roared. “Daily instruction? Did you never check on him, or speak to your son? Did you never find out what that instruction was?”

Tynfor frowned. “Of course not. Tuothic, we have peace between us, yet you allow your man to speak to me in such a way. It is unseemly,” he complained.

“He is not speaking as my warrior, but as your son’s husband,” Markin stated.

“Please.” Tynfor rolled his eyes. “What, is the boy too stupid to understand his place or something?”

Rage threatened to swamp me. My desire to throttle the man until he could no longer speak was near unmanageable. If he’d been in front of me in person, I wouldn’t have controlled it at all.

“Your son’s treatment at the hands of the bastard you allowed close to Kertyn did leave him completely unknowing of how a husband acts, yes, but not because he’s stupid. Kertyn told me of the devotions this priest”—I spat the title out—“forced upon every day. That man used my husband, invaded his body and took his own perverted pleasure for years. Years!” I raged. “Even until the very morning he left for Nembero. Kertyn had no idea what sex was, or how a marriage couple should treat each other, because all he’d ever known in his life was abuse! I had to explain everything to him, just so he’d understand why I was so angry, because he thought I was rejecting him for what you allowed.”

Tynfor raised one eyebrow. “If the priest said they were performing devotions, then undoubtedly that was so. The ways of those dedicated to Stygianius are beyond me. My son was Chosen by the god, and as such, belonged to the priest. He was only given to you because that was the price your priests stated the gods demanded to end the war.” The man’s voice was mild, as if being told his son had been used was of no consequence, like Kertyn was a thing and not a human being.

I staggered back. Markin caught me.

“If the boy is too much trouble, or you feel he is sullied by his duty to his god, then send him back. I severed our ties when he was sent to your planet, but I’m sure Stygianius priests would find him a place.” Tynfor grinned cruelly.

“You bastard son of a bitch.” His expression didn’t change as the old insult washed over him without his understanding, but Markin knew exactly what I said. His jaw was clenched.

“Your son was offered by treaty to the Nembero in marriage. He is no longer a Verlast, and shall never set foot on your planet again. And if you, or any of your people, ever come near him or my planet”—Markin pointed at the hologram— “I will allow Zaran to obliterate Verlast down to its last atom.”

Tynfor’s spots paled.

“Do I make myself clear?” Markin stood regally in front of the Verlast king as he issued his ultimatum.

“Abundantly. Do not contact me again. I have no son, nor any link to your planet.” Tynfor cut the transmission.

I braced myself against the back of a chair, struggling to calm. Marking was little better. He sank into a chair and rubbed his forehead. “That could have gone worse,” he muttered.

“You threatened genocide on an entire planet.”

Markin straightened. “And I meant it. That man was unbelievable. If his people allow him to rule, when he permits such atrocities, then they deserve what he will do to them. Nembero will not be the only planet he attempts to take advantage of, mark my words.”

“Should we send out messages to our allies?” The loose confederation of planets colonized eons ago by human refugees from Earth were all sovereign, but some understood the power and advantages of creating alliances.

“I will speak to my council. You’ve done enough, Zaran, more than anyone should have to.”

I shook my head. “Someone had to be the one in charge, to make those decisions.”

“But now you have a chance to forget what you had no choice in. You did what you had to protect our people, and ensure our survival. You don’t have to be that man anymore. Go, be with your new husband, and teach him all about his new home.”

“Is that an order?” I smiled at Markin.

“Of course. Your Tuothic demands you go to bed so he can get back to his own. And no getting up before the third turning, at least!”

Laughing was the last thing I’d expected to do when I walked out of the communications room. I wished I could tell Kertyn that his father would punish the priest who’d hurt him, but the cold bastard’s reaction was even harsher. I didn’t have to tell him; Kertyn would never go back to Verlast.

He was a Nembero now. I quickened my steps, eager to show him how a Nembero husband woke his partner on their Vagal morn.