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Yarra's arms enfolded him, feeling him as vulnerable as any newborn. "We know, ruesten," she said. "We know. You have brought honor to the clan, and you will bring more. Rest now, Steve." After composing the message he hoped Hovan would never have to read, Tarlac found that the rest of the day went . . . smoothly. That was the only word he could think of.
"Now you'd think they'd bed us. I could do with several days and nights of bunk time right about now." But that hint was not taken up and they continued to sit on the bench as time limped by. According to Dane's watch it must be night now, though the steady light in the windowless room did not vary. What had Hovan discovered in the Queen? Had he been able to rouse any of the crew?
Hovan was proud of his ship, and spent much of their leisure showing Steve the Hermnaen and its crew. Even though the flagship was considerably smaller than a Sovereign-class cruiser, there was a lot to show; it was still a full-scale battlewagon.
"Hovan, I'm doing the best I can, but I'm not a Traiti. I'm human, and after that fight, I don't know if my best is going to be good enough." Hovan studied his human ruhar for several minutes without saying anything.
If you something else prefer, one of my men some English speaks; he can as temporary escort for you act." Tarlac's internal clock said it was mid-afternoon, but this was as good a time as any to start changing his diurnal rhythms. "That's not necessary, Team-Leader." "Then come," Hovan said, and Traiti and human left the bridge.
He'd finally decided it was almost inevitable; an exchange of vital fluid was an obvious symbol of kinship, and the wrist was an equally obvious place to draw blood, on a humanoid. So, when Hovan extended a claw and dug into his left arm, Tarlac used the dagger he'd borrowed from his sponsor to follow suit.
Hovan touched the light control, then rolled over on his mat and looked at the human in the growing wake-light. Steve was still asleep, curled on his side, half in and half out of the blanket, and he looked incredibly vulnerable. There were scars on the man's back, Hovan noted; studying them, he decided they had been deliberately inflicted, probably by some sort of lash.
Ka'ruchaya Yarra, in her wisdom, chose to offer it, and I am glad." "So'm I. And it may mean I do have a chance of finishing." Tarlac grinned, unable to suppress a short-lived surge of hope. He'd been prepared to die to bring peace; just the thought of living to enjoy it, as Hovan was confident he would, was enough to make him reach out and take Daria's hand even as it faded. "Thanks, ruhar.
If humans could be brought to understand the Traiti well enough to know that it was impossible . . . Tarlac wanted to curse at his frustration, but couldn't think of anything fitting. Well, he was reasonably certain Hovan could handle the truth, and he trusted his sponsor. For all practical purposes, with everyone else in vehicles, the two of them were alone.
He sighed inwardly. If there was going to be trouble, why hadn't Steve said anything? But Steve was a Lord now, he reminded himself, and it was axiomatic that Lords did things their own ways for their own reasons. All he could do was remain alert, prepared to take any action that might seem necessary. As they neared the Throne, Hovan found himself more impressed than he'd thought he would be.
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