“Did you never leave them? See more of the Empire?” The question came from Elder Hilek, seated at the rear of the cave and carving a sarlag bone into a ceremonial knife.
“I did on occasion—when I was between contracts or during a rest season. I have seen great cities that covered entire planets, and I have seen oceans with monsters far larger than the paxha. I have seen planets so thick with plants that the very air seemed alive. I have dined with kings and broken bread with the poorest miners.”
“And you never wished to return home?”
He had, so many times, but he had known that he was no longer welcome.
“I did not believe that it was an option,” he said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
Shinall sat back on his heels. “What happened to Akhalt—it was tragic, but it was not your fault. We all knew that he was just as restless as you were. We should not have allowed our sorrow, and our guilt, to chase you away.”
“Your guilt?”
The Elder sighed again. “We should not have allowed the two of you to go to Port Eyeja alone. We should have forbidden you to make the trip or we should have sent other warriors with you. We were too busy debating about whether we should relax our stance on interaction with the Empire to consider more local dangers.”
Baralt considered Shinall’s words. While he appreciated that the Elders might have had second thoughts, it was too late, and too much had changed.
“I am not sure that it would have made a difference,” he admitted. “I suspect that forbidding us to leave would not have stopped us. And if we had been part of a larger party, more might have been hurt. We were unprepared for life outside the caves.”
“Njkall argued that after you left. Since then, he has studied the ways of the offworlders.”
“Not always successfully,” Njkall interrupted. “I agreed to a contract with a group of scientists that could have destroyed our planet.”
“In exchange for some monitoring equipment that we desperately needed,” Shinall said. “You also arranged for social interaction with the port.”
“With the result that one of our precious females was lured away by an evil male.” Njkall gave a rueful smile. “Sometimes I think that my efforts have caused more harm than good.”
“Perhaps in the short term,” Shinall agreed. “But you made the attempt—an attempt that we all agree is necessary. We cannot remain in isolation. But neither will we allow our way of life to disappear.” He looked directly at Baralt. “You were one of the first to advocate more interaction. What do you think should be the path forward?”
“I still believe that it is necessary. Hothrest is easily dismissed by other systems of the Empire because of our isolation. Many believe that we are no more than animals, and that makes us vulnerable. If we ever lose the protection we were granted in return for the sothiti, very few would come to our defense if an attempt was made to exploit us.” He tapped his claws together. “My suggestion is that we start trying to build relationships with other systems. At the very least, our presence should be felt in Port Eyeja.”
“That was your argument, Njkall, but it did not work out well.” This comment came from Lamjal, one of the most stalwart defenders of traditional ways.
What had happened? He would question Njkall afterward, but now he simply shrugged. “Perhaps not, but very few things go perfectly the first time. Was your first skin as well cured as that one will be?”
“No, but it caused no damage to anyone else,” Lamjal shot back.
“Ignoring the situation will not change it. We would like you to think on this matter and give us your suggestions, Baralt,” Shinall said, then he frowned. “Unless you plan on leaving again immediately.”
“I don’t want to leave,” he said slowly, surprised by how much he truly wanted to stay on Hothrest. “And even if I did want to, I would remain as long as my mate is safe here.”
“Mate?” Lamjal made a disgusted noise. “A naked skin is not a fit mate for a warrior.”
Anger roared through Baralt so quickly that he was almost dizzy. Forgetting the venerable nature of those present, he crossed the space in three quick strides and snatched Lamjal to his feet.
“She’s the finest female I know. She is brave and intelligent and kindhearted, despite what our galaxy has forced upon her. If I ever hear you make another negative comment about her, I will challenge you. Is that clear?”
To his credit, the old male didn’t back away in the face of Baralt’s anger. Instead, his aged eyes studied Baralt’s face, then he nodded.
“In that case, you should have a joining ceremony. If she is as fine a female as you claim, then she deserves one.”
Lamjal’s words took him by surprise. The need to formalize his relationship with Isabel had not occurred to him, but now that he thought about it, he was filled with an immense longing.
“That is an excellent idea.”
Lamjal cackled. “Another mated male.” He looked at the other Elders. “If our males have more exposure to other races, they would have a greater chance of finding mates.”
A low hum of conversation began, but Baralt could not make out any individual responses. Would their natural resistance to offworlders prevent them from considering the idea, or would they recognize the happiness it could bring to the younger males?
“We will need to discuss this further,” Shinall finally said.
“We can talk about it as much as you want, but if you think the idea isn’t already in their heads, you are a fool,” Lamjal interrupted.
“I am not a fool, but I still believe it merits further discussion, Lamjal.”
