Johanna Lindsey - Heart of a Warrior

"Leave me out of this old girl," Tedra replied. "I happen to be getting along just fine with my warrior this week, don't remind me why I shouldn't."

"She's exaggerating kiddo. My Tedra gets along with her warrior all the time. She might step out of line occasionally and suffer the consequences, but she makes sure Challen makes up for it big time."

Brittany stared at her mother-in-law. "You come from a society much more advanced than mine. I would have thought that you more than anyone, would find these rules and laws as barbaric as I do. Ordered to stay in that tent. I fully understand now. I didn't and found out painfully why I should have. But everything else? Unneeded escorts, clothes to mark your status. Why don't the rules get put on the men instead? Why aren't they told that women are to be left alone? How can you accept being treated like a child?"

"Hot damn, I'm looking forward to this answer myself," Martha said, Tedra ignored her instigating computer to hook her arm through Brittany's. She began to escort her to her room while she explained, "I don't accept being treated like a child, but I do accept the laws of the land. No one expects you to be a model of Kan-is-Tran womanhood overnight, not even Dalden. I had an easier time adjusting because my first month here was spent in a challenge loss, which was about as close as you can get to slavery. Since I had agreed to the challenge, I had to honor the results of losing it, so I couldn't really complain about bow belittling the position was. My point being, I was introduced to the way things are around here while I was on the bottom of the social scale. Which made it much easier to accept the things allowed higher up on the scale, even if most of those things grossly favor the male of the species."

"Grossly?" Brittany snorted. "How 'bout one hundred percent?"

Tedra grinned. "Face it, it's a male-dominated society, and because these males happen to come in giantlike proportions, they've had to make up a few little rules to keep themselves from hurting their women. The women raised here don't mind the rules because they've never known anything better. Are you getting that particular point yet? To them it's not barbaric, it's normal."

"And exceptions don't get made for visitors?" Brittany asked.

"Why should they? It's not as if a visitor from another world can be differentiated from a visitor from another country here. They don't have schools as you know them. They aren't taught about other people on their own world, much less about other worlds. They exist in black and white, and don't recognize much gray. They keep things simple, uncomplicated. If a woman doesn't have a protector, then she's up for grabs. You can't get much simpler than that. But once she has a protector, then she has to obey him to keep herself protected. You really can't get much simpler than that."

"You do realize that you've just defined childish?" Brittany said.

Tedra didn't try to deny it, at least not completely. "From an advanced perspective, certainly. But from their perspective it's actually pretty civilized. They aren't killing each other to take what they want. They've set up laws that they all abide by, self-governed by their warrior code of honor. They are light-years beyond our own prehistoric people. They are unique, without comparison-actually, that's probably half your problem, kiddo. You need to stop comparing them to your own species."

"It's kind of hard to ignore twenty-eight years of my own upbringing."

"Because you're looking at things here while wearing modern glasses. Take off those glasses and you'll get a completely different view, one much easier to tolerate. I know that's asking a lot. It was also easier for me because I spent three years training for a career in World Discovery before I was allowed to switch to my preferred career in Security. And one little gem I learned in Discovery was that if you want to live on a world other than your own, you do so not with the intention of changing that world, but of adapting to it. These medieval worlds must be allowed to evolve at their own pace. It's not for us to tamper with them just because we know better ways of doing things."

"I hate to break up such an excellent lesson in how to deal with your local barbarian," Martha interjected sarcastically. "But Corth II just informed me that Dalden is now approaching his camp."

Brittany frowned. "If Dalden didn't find me and get me back here, who did?"

"Martha did."

"I thought her link got left behind."

"It was," Tedra said. "It was actually Jorran who found you, and only because he was specifically looking. He had his ship computer contact Martha for a Transfer directly to a meditech. You didn't have enough blood left for any other option."

"Specifically looking?"

"He has returned with an army for revenge-and you. Not that he'll be getting either, but because he more or less saved your life, we're having to deal with him diplomatically again. He's requested permission to speak with you and has agreed to leave after-ward. Because it's a peaceful way of avoiding an outright war with Century III, we were inclined to agree. He's catching a ride here on an airobus as we speak."

"No Transfer?"

"He's used up his quota for the day-which reminds me. Corth II will be filling Dalden in on what happened, but you might want to point out to him that your meeting up with that sa'abo caused Jorran to change his original plan, which was to capture you both and cart you off to Century III, and Dalden probably wouldn't have survived the trip."

"Delete that," Martha said. "Jorran wouldn't have found them without her reverting to using her own language. It was what he was hoping for, the only way he could have located her. And she wouldn't have done that if she weren't alone with a sa'abo breathing down her throat."

"Farden hnnell, must you always get technical, Martha?" Tedra complained.

"Never mind that. Dalden wants Transfer now, and I mean now. I warned you he'd go berserk when he saw all that blood."

"For stars' sake, you know how to stall someone better than anyone else. Let her at least change clothes first," Tedra said, then suggested, "Transfer him to Challen. He can calm him down some, if you can't."

Which made Brittany start to panic. If Dalden's mother was this worried that she was in big trouble, she was likely in some seriously big trouble.

« ^ »

CHANGING CLOTHES WASN'T ENOUGH. BRITTANY WAS still smeared with dried blood, even though there were no wounds left to account for it. She had just enough time to drop into the sunken bath, scrub thoroughly, then drain the water-leaving a pink pool wasn't a good idea-and get into a fresh blue chauri. Not enough time to dry her hair completely, but that was a minor point. She wasn't trying to hide the fact that she'd been hurt, which Dalden already knew, just the visible reminder of how bad the injuries had been.

Tedra left Martha's link behind and told her to use her discretion if someone needed Transferring out of there until emotions settled down. At that point, Brittany had no idea who that someone might be, since her own emotions were getting out of hand as well.

By the time Dalden finally walked into their room she had worked herself into a fine state of nervousness. And what kept repeating in her mind was he was for real, really for real. He wasn't someone playing at being a barbarian, he was a barbarian, and how the hell did you deal with an archaic mentality that, instead of offering comfort over an injury, was going to add punishment to it as well?

He didn't look angry. But she knew him well enough by now to know that he wouldn't look it. Wrapped in his warrior's calm, you had to search for more subtle signs than the obvious, and they were there: a certain stiffness, compressed lips-no warmth in his golden eyes.