A clan in trouble that no longer knows how to be with each
other:
Erybet’s shuttle landed in its
assigned place between his clanmates’ personal vehicles. He turned it off, winking out Conyod’s view of
the exterior vid, which showed the docking bay in the complex where they
lived. Like a quarter of the city’s
inhabitants, they lived within the cliffs overlooking the pink-sand beach at
the western edge of Kalquor’s largest ocean.
Spacious living quarters and multiple levels had been cut inside the
natural formations. The Imperial Clan
and their immediate families also lived in one of the cliffs. The Royal House was about half a mile away
from where Erybet’s group made their home, along with around 300 other clans.
The interior of the cliff dwelling
showed little evidence of the natural formation it was carved from. The floor of the bay was polished smooth as
glass, and light emitted from the wall and ceiling panels that covered the
stone.
As soon as they disembarked, Sletran
muttered something about taking a walk on the beach. He headed towards the transport tube that
accessed all levels and sections of the cliff without waiting for their leave. Conyod started to say something, but one look
at Erybet’s face shut him up. The
Dramok’s fine-drawn features were almost feral with his brow crushing down over
his eyes and mouth curled in a near snarl.
Erybet was boiling mad.
His shoulders hunched almost
defensively, Conyod followed Erybet to another transport. Except for his leader’s snapped orders to the
transport controls, neither said anything.
The second they got into their
quarters’ greeting room, Erybet tossed the box containing the necklace they’d
presented Matara Maria to a nearby table.
That she’d been reluctant to return it had been obvious, but she’d told
them, “I’m sorry but I don’t think your clan is for me. And as much as I love this necklace, I
wouldn’t feel right accepting it.”
She’d been a very nice woman, more
than acceptable for a potential Matara.
Conyod felt a wash of guilt that he’d disappointed Erybet by not trying
harder. But Maria was not Rachel. Not by far, and he just couldn’t pretend
interest in the woman, not even to make his Dramok happy.
Erybet stalked across the room to
the bar, wasting no time in pouring himself a glass of bohut, a much more
potent drink than the kloq he’d had at the restaurant. Conyod eyed the half dozen bottles of alcohol
at the bar with desire, but he wasn’t going to go anywhere near while his
furious Dramok stood there.
He’s
never truly hurt me. His discipline and
punishments have always been fair, the Imdiko told himself. But Erybet was a near stranger to him now,
and who knew what he was capable of in such a rage? Conyod decided it was best not to chance
finding out.
He wanted to go to the sleeping
room, to get as far from the other man as possible. But the way Erybet glared at him told Conyod
he wasn’t going anywhere, not without a discussion first.
Swallowing hard, Conyod sank onto a
lounger against one light-paneled wall.
The greeting room wasn’t very big, just large enough to entertain half a
dozen guests with the lounger and table with two raised chairs across from
them. In one corner, a few seating
cushions scattered around a second table.
Fur rugs covered the floor, creating a soft patchwork puzzle of whites,
grays, browns, and blacks. On the far
wall were framed portraits of the clan, portraits the talented Erybet himself
had drawn.
Conyod felt himself cringing under
Erybet’s livid stare and made himself sit up straight. He’d been completely out of line at dinner
with his reticence, and it was time to make amends for his behavior. His “I’m sorry” was spoken with sincerity.
Erybet’s voice was a growl. “Give me one good reason why this one wasn’t
acceptable to you.”
Rachel.
Conyod bit his lip. Erybet
wouldn’t understand.
Coming November 16
Waiting is hard...but it will be worth it!!
ReplyDelete6 weeks. close and far away at the same time.
ReplyDeleteI'm loving it!!!!!
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