Chapter 12

Lise

“Where is the flycam?” I’d completely forgotten about it. Conveniently. But it was issued to me, and Earth Life News and Galactic Report would want it back. Flycams were expensive. The cost of it would come out of my salary.

Pal-Adrik reached into his pouch and held the device out to me. It looked small in his huge palm. “I turned it off.”

I took it, but didn’t turn it on immediately. “Thanks. For not crushing it, that is.”

“It does not belong to me. Nor is it doing harm to my people.” He crossed his arms. “I have no reason to destroy it.”

The sun—or rather, Skrah, the closest star—was so bright. It had to be late morning. The intensity had me shading my eyes. But the warlord looked like a gilded statue, gleaming in the star’s light. Everyone else in the lane looked at him with near reverence as they gave him plenty of room. No one wanted to crowd the warlord.

But then he looked at me. His eyes softened and his mouth almost smiled. For a second, it felt as though he saw only me and the rest of the world dropped away. That’s how I felt looking at him. “Come. I want you to meet someone.”

I turned the flycam back on as he led me out of the town area and into a huge field of blue-green grasses. Those huge beasts ambled there—the ugris. They were graceful in their own way, moving over the ground as if they were born from it. The warlord was taking me toward a massive sheltered barn. It had no doors, but only a large, arched opening.

Inside lay a bloated, huffing ugris. “You remember Besi.” She let out a loud, watery snort when she saw the warlord, but didn’t seem to mind when he placed a hand on her enormous belly. “This one has no problems with her fertility.”

“Oh.” I eyed the purple, segmented plates of the creature, whose heavy breathing sounded labored. “She’s pregnant.”

“Very,” he replied. “She’s due to have her calf in about four and a half standard galactic days, or six of Mitra’s standard rotations.” He took a long stick tipped with a wide pad off the wall and began rubbing it over Besi. It appeared to have some oil on it, as the beast’s hide began to shine, and she made happy, snuffling noises.

“Poor thing.” I took a chance and rubbed her head, above her snout, directing the flycam back a few feet so it didn’t spook the ugris. “You look so uncomfortable.”

“I haven’t seen her this moody before,” the warlord said. “With her previous calves, she was feistier. But she’s healthy. Nothing wrong with her or the calf. We monitor her, and the rest of the herd, day and night.”

More than his words, his expression and demeanor when taking care of the ugris was remarkable to me. He was like a doting parent himself, tending to Besi as she prepared to birth her calf. I rubbed circles in the space between her six eyes, which closed gently. The huge animal let out a contented sigh. “Why did you bring me here?”

“To show you that the creature that almost crushed you and the Nugget is not to be feared,” he replied. “She is a gentle creature, and was very distraught over that. It took hours to calm her.”

I smiled, no longer seeing anything scary or even ugly about the ugris. She was a sweetheart, who was obviously quite bonded with the warlord. “It’s just Nugget,” I said. “Not ‘the Nugget.’”

“Then what is he?”

“He’s a cat. Didn’t I say that?” I asked, confused. “He’s a cat and his name is Nugget.”

“Oh.” He put away the ugris rubbing stick and faced me. “I misunderstood.”

“It’s fine. He’s an earth species and I know Mitra has a policy against alien species, so I’m thankful you allowed me to bring him. And he wasn’t supposed to get out of his carry case. And I really shouldn’t have blindly run after him like that.” I was second-guessing bringing Nugget here, for sure. I had no idea how dangerous it would be for him outside the walls of our house. I looked at Besi and patted her head again. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

“She forgives you.”

I looked at him in surprise. “Does she understand language?”

A fond smile curved the warlord’s lips. “No, but I understand her, and I know she’s over it.”

“I know what you mean.” I smiled widely. “I know my pet like that, too.”

Our gazes met in a surprise clash of kinship. Both of us had animals we loved, and that was a remarkable thing, considering we had nothing else in common at all.

His eyes shone. “A wise female.”

I shrugged one shoulder. Okay, it was a little flirty. “You have a pretty good head on your shoulders, too, Warlord.”

“Sometimes.” He shook his head and seemed to force his expression to neutral as he gestured for us to leave the barn. “I will show you the other plants that grow along the river. Some you must use caution around, but most are harmless.”

And so, for the rest of the day, the warlord showed me around his Thrail. He pointed out any and every potentially hazardous thing. It was as if he expected that, should I come across something dangerous, I would, naturally, harm myself. I couldn’t blame him. My track record on Mitra wasn’t great.

We got food from an attendant who was used to bringing the daytime meal to the warlord. In this case, there were two kebabs wrapped in flatbread and a large canteen of brewed tea.

“No ale?” I asked, teasingly. We sat on the ground beside the river, in a place where fishing was plentiful at certain times of the year. Presently, there were no fish, and so we had the small pier area to ourselves.

“No ale until the day is done,” he replied. “And even then, I do not indulge heavily like my warriors.”

“Why not? You earn a chance to relax now and then, too.”

He shook his head, sending his brakas gliding back and forth between his horns. “I am the warlord. I must always be alert and vigilant.”

I winced. “You sleep, right?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” He sighed. “But only because my body demands it. I cannot serve my people if I am weak.”

He made sleeping sound like a weakness. I glanced up at the flycam, which was discreetly recording us, and couldn’t help but think how women—and a solid contingent of men—back on Earth were going to swoon over this warlord when they saw this stuff. He was so stoic, so proud, everyone with a wisp of romance in their system would be smitten with him. “I doubt you are weak, even in your sleep, Warlord.”

His gaze turned distant as his dark eyes looked out upon the river and the mountains beyond. “I am weak,” he said quietly. “As all mortal beings are. The only thing that keeps my people from believing otherwise is my will to shield them from it.”

I wondered why he felt the need to do that, but before I could ask any more questions about it, he got up and signaled that we were to move on. He didn’t like this talk. I could see that on his face, but he added, with a rueful and somewhat longing expression, “One day, I will be replaced and a new warlord will live in my home. I will move into the hall of elders and finally admit to being nearsighted and having a sore back.”

“You’re nearsighted?” I burst out.

He smiled enigmatically. “Of course, not. Warlords have perfect eyesight.”

He strode off with me and the flycam trailing behind.

Me with so many questions and the flycam (hopefully) running low on power.

My tour of Thrail Tyvor ended in the late afternoon with the warlord leaving me at my house. He crossed his arms and gazed down at me. “You should have sufficient material from me for your story. And be able to navigate the Thrail without injury. Hopefully.”

I mirrored his stance. “I’m not as accident-prone as I seem.” My track record here wasn’t great, but still.

He raised one brow. “Then I won’t expect to carry you to safety for the remainder of your stay here.”

“No.” A laugh came out of my lips. “You’re very good at it, though.”

He smiled. “I am glad you think so. I’ll leave you now.”

“Warlord,” I said, before he turned away. “Thank you for today. For the clothes and…everything. I had a wonderful time.” It was so true. I could have added: I had more fun in just today than I’ve had in entire relationships. You’re exciting and interesting and I’d love to see you again.

But I didn’t.

“Goodbye, Lise.” He stepped away from my door with a nod and strode off. I leaned against my door, watching his retreating form with a sigh. The flycam even looked disappointed to see him go.

I didn’t know what I expected that evening in the dining hall. I sat at my usual table with my padbook and meal, having gotten there early. He walked by without even a glance. Maybe he didn’t see me, but I was still there when he left with his warriors, and that time he did see me.

His gaze moved to me, his expression neutral and distant. He gave the slightest nod before leaving. He didn’t pause. Not even a break in his step.

I sat there with my half-eaten meal feeling numb around the edges. Okay. Deep breath. So I completely misjudged the situation. Got swept away in the moment. Not the first time it had happened, although it was the first time with a person I was supposed to be interviewing. Not very professional of me. And pretty foolish. He was the warlord.

Still… I fingered the green gem hanging around my neck. His mother’s necklace. Yaran must have seen something going on between us to lend me this piece of jewelry, so it couldn’t have been all my imagination. Even if he did have some “extra” feelings about me, he knew I wasn’t staying on Mitra. Being a pragmatic sort of guy, there would be no point in pursuing anything. None.

I frowned at my padbook and focused on the words there. I was here to write a story and a weekly column—not romance the warlord. It was time I got to work.