{ASS} Delta: A Question of Honour 2/2 (MF)

[Delta]

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Delta.

A QUESTION OF HONOUR
Chapter 4

Lere had found some of the Quella which Riltan had identified
for him. Quella, that leafy vegetable with its thick, edible root
which lent a piquant taste to their meals, was a welcome addition
to their food supply. He proudly showed the small group his triumph.
Riltan smiled at the happy face amid the armful of vegetation.
Lere, with his hair windblown and wild, looked like he belonged
with the Quella. It was getting close to time for a haircut.
"Take a look at our 'Seeker', Takene," Iro said softly.
Takene glanced over. "What is it?"
"It's the first time I've seen him smile. It makes him a little
less scary." Iro liked the smile.
Takene looked again. Iro was right. She, also, had never seen
Riltan smile. It was a measure of her success, she thought, feeling
both proud of her accomplishment and guilty because of the reason for
it.
For first two nights after their little talk, Takene had taken
great care to remain alert with Riltan while he was sleeping. She
slept lightly and at the merest sign of a bad dream, she would awaken
and begin talking softly to him, stroking him, interposing herself, as
it were, between the dream and Riltan. It didn't matter that he
wouldn't understand what she was saying, her tone would tell his
sleeping mind all that it needed to know.
In the two days since, Riltan had evinced a change from one
who was waiting, expectant, tight, to one who was able to relax.
Not to totally relax, but to relax a little. From the time they
had met he had always been able to sit quietly, unmoving, yet had
never seemed to relax. Now it was different and Takene felt that
she could take a great deal of credit for the change.
"He scares you?" Takene recalled Iro's words and wondered
at them.
"I said it makes him less scary, and that's not the same
thing." Iro defended herself. "I've never been scared of him,
except maybe that first day, for a minute or two. I think he's
kind of cute."
Takene choked. "Cute?" She looked again to Riltan whose
face was no longer smiling, yet which held the essence of good
humour. He had strong features; one might call him handsome in
a rugged sort of way, but cute?
"Yes. And I think it's about time." Iro's look sharpened,
wondering how Takene would respond. It wasn't her fault that
Riltan didn't find Takene attractive enough to take for his own.
Iro understood. Takene was getting old. If Takene would give her
her chance, as she was supposed to, Iro was sure that Riltan
would come to her gladly.
"You do, do you? Well, I don't. And as your . . ."
"As my surrogate aunt you are supposed to provide me with
a man to instruct me in the arts of lovemaking . . ."
"Someone suitable." Neither woman was allowing the other
to complete an argument.
"There is no one else, Takene - unless you have some other
man stashed away . . ."
"Riltan is not suitable, Iro." Takene was frustrated. She
knew her duty well enough, but to fulfill it could bring unknown
hazards down upon them.
"Well I think he is," Iro replied loftily. "And I think
he's sweet. He'll do just fine. If it is too much for you to
arrange, all you have to do is step aside. I'll do the rest."
"Sweet?" The girl must be fantasizing about him. Sweet?
This was getting out of hand. "So, you think he's a cute,
sweet man. I don't know how you came to that conclusion, but
I'll accept it as the way you see him. Just do one thing for
me, Iro," Takene paused.
"What's that?" Was Takene finally going to relent?
"It's about time to wash some clothes. You and I will
do that. I want you to take a good look at Riltan's body
and then tell me again how cute and sweet he is.
"Riltan," she called. His head swung around to look
at them. <Give-me shirt> His eyebrows went up. <Wash.
Smell> she made a face.
Riltan took a quick sniff at his shirt and looked
quizzically at Takene. Then he shrugged and with a bemused
look pulled it off and handed it to her as she and Iro came
near. The sun was warm on his skin and with a contented
sigh he lay back and closed his eyes. A few moments later,
sensing something, his eyes flicked open again.
Iro stood above him, looking in fascination at his
torso. He looked down at himself and became aware of the
scars. Becoming aware of the scars, he became aware, also,
of how they had come about and his face clouded over. They
were not happy memories - did not, in fact, belong to him,
but to the other, the one before him.
Slightly irritated, he arose and dug his other shirt
out of his pack and put it on. When he turned again, Iro
had gone. He sighed once again, then moved to help Lere
clean and prepare the Quella.

"Why did you do that?" Iro hissed at Takene. "Was it
really necessary?"
"Yes. You want to be treated like a woman, are a woman,
so yes, it was necessary. I find it hard to not try to protect
you, I've been Guardian too long for that, yet there are things
you should know. That was one of them.
"Our 'cute, sweet' Riltan is the most dangerous man you
have ever seen. He didn't just come by those scars. He earned
them, every one. And it's my bet that none who gave him any
of those scars is alive anymore."
"You just want him for yourself," Iro pouted, then her
eyes widened in pain as Takene gripped her arm with such force
that she gasped.
"Listen, and listen carefully." Takene was angry and
Iro tried to shrink from her. "You remember the man who was
going to rape me?"
With Takene's eyes boring into hers from such close range
Iro was forced to recall. "Yes, Takene." She had nearly
called Takene 'Guardian', she was so cowed.
"Well, he was a dead man before Riltan ever showed up."
Takene released her hold on Iro. It was time the young woman
learned something of life. "He was dangerous in his own way,
but I was never worried about him. I wasn't afraid. He was
a dead man."
"What do you mean?"
"Simply that I was going to kill him." She smiled at
Iro's wide eyed expression. It was not a pleasant smile.
"Sure, he might have raped me first - I was ready for that -
but he would not have lived out the day. He was not a
problem." Takene could see that, shocked though Iro was,
she believed her. "Not a problem, at all," she repeated.
"But our friend Riltan," she took a deep breath, "he's
a different proposition altogether. When I saw him I was
frightened. I wouldn't have stood a chance against him,
not even though he was dead on his feet.
"Now, it is a different story. He trusts me - a little.
I've worked hard to gain his trust. I've been careful to go
at his pace. I haven't pushed him at all. Do you know why,
Iro?" Her voice was like a whiplash.
"Why?" Iro was forced to ask the question which she didn't
want the answer to.
Takene composed herself. Her voice became calm and considered,
and that much more frightening because of it. Iro realized that
she had never truly known her Guardian.
"Because, should it come to it, it might - it just might -
slow him down that fraction which will allow me to kill him.
Because, due to all that work, due to the trust I've gained, I
might have the slimmest chance. Understand me, Iro, just the
slimmest chance, no more. He is dangerous, Iro, he is a killer."
Iro plucked up her courage. "Not to us, not anymore."
Takene relaxed and smiled a tired smile as she put the
dirty clothes into the wash bucket. "Perhaps not, Iro, perhaps
not. He has changed, I agree, yet he could change back again.
If that happens, we will need every break we can get. If you and
I fight over him, he will be on guard, our chances will be
diminished."
Iro was more impressed with Takene than she wanted to let
on. Her argument was powerful enough to convince her that there
should be no fight between them. "Then let's not fight. Let me
have him, or at least share him. It's my right to . . ."
"He's not suitable, Iro." Takene was weary.
"How can you . . . ?" Suddenly Iro understood. "You know
who he is, don't you?"
Takene smiled, "Let's give him the benefit of the doubt.
I know who he was."
"Who?" Iro's curiosity overcame her reluctance to know.
"Trust me when I tell you that it is better that you don't
know. I'm sorry, Iro, I truly am. If it were different, I
would have no qualms about you having 'my man' as your first."
She scrubbed at Riltan's shirt. "I had a man for some years
before he was taken from me. He made me very happy. I want
that for you, too. I would do nothing to take that away from
you. You deserve to be brought into the full flower of womanhood
by the best. I love you, Iro, like I would my own daughter. If
my man were here, now, we would not be having this discussion."
There were tears in her eyes, though she could not understand why.
She could see Iro's eyes misting over as well.
Then the tears were flowing and they were in each other's
arms. The recognition of the empty spot within was a pain that
wouldn't be denied. They held each other a long time before
finally breaking apart.
Takene wiped at her face and gave a half laugh. "Come on
and let's finish the laundry. They boys will be wondering
what's keeping us."

Riltan had been going out more and more often to look over
the approaches to the camp. He appeared on edge and Takene
finally faced him with it.
<Your people come when?> he asked her.
Takene frowned. <My people? Come-here why?> Was that what
he was worried about?
<Look for caravan. See what happen then>
Ah, so that was it. <My people not come-here> she told a
disbelieving Riltan. She smiled at his doubt. <My people know
what happen then. Four, maybe six, my people escape. Looking
ahead - in vehicle. They far side caravan. I see. Can't meet,
join them. Can't catch. They tell - no one come> She smiled
ruefully, <no one look, think we-all dead>
<Not come - see? Why?> Riltan was confused.
<War. Caravan leave> "Trianne". "Trianne - Slindaria" <war
now. No one come. No one look>
Riltan slowly nodded his head. Soldiers wouldn't be coming
this way, either. Fighting would take place, if it took place,
much farther north. Here in the south either side would have
to make its approach through neutral territory and neither would
wish to bring H'Las into the war against them.
<Why stay here?> Riltan wanted to know.
Takene tried her best to look lost and inquired, <Where go?>
Riltan nodded slowly and wandered off, lost in thought.
Where, indeed? He stopped suddenly. Why did he feel like a
weight had been lifted from him? He looked back through his
thoughts and discovered that the surge in his spirits had
begun when Takene had told him that no one would come looking.
Why should that please him?
He started moving again, but was stopped by the shock of
his thoughts. He wanted her to remain with him! He had become
comfortable with her, with them. They were family - his family!
The only place he belonged was with them.
Riltan moved out slowly, considering this new data, wondering
how the situation had come about. He accepted it, for there was
no use in denying what was so evident - so evident that it had
surrounded him without his becoming aware of it. He shook his
head wonderingly.
Not that he should be surprised, really. The new man had a
new life and these people - his family - had been in it from the
start, from the time he crossed the dry creek bed. It was right
that he was with them. He stopped and turned to look back.
From his position he could see all three and from within
there was a sudden welling up of an emotion he couldn't identify.
It suffused his entire being and brought tears to his eyes, catching
him totally by surprise. As the tears rolled down his cheeks
unhindered, the one inside was astonished at the body's reaction.
What was this? What was happening?
He must have stumbled, for the next thing he knew he was
seated on the ground and Takene was making her way, purposefully,
towards him. He didn't move. He simply waited.

Takene had watched Riltan as he left her, curious about his
strange gait. He walked as though he were in a daze, stopping a
couple of times, then turning to watch the camp. She pretended to
be concentrating on fixing the evening meal while covertly looking
at him.
Takene's eyebrows shot up as Riltan suddenly seemed to stagger
then dropped to a sitting position. It had not been a controlled
sit. Could he be sick? She hoped not. If he caught sick it could
set them back days, or even weeks. This was not good. She pushed
to her feet and strode towards him, worry creasing her features.
<Something wrong?> she asked as she neared him.
<No. Something right> he replied, to her amazement.
<Why cry?> she wondered.
<Don't know> he signed simply.
Takene nodded, as if this were the most natural thing in the
world. Riltan sat, feet apart with knees bent outwards, grasping his
ankles with his hands. He looked down.
It came to Takene that this might be the break she was looking
for and she plopped herself down between his legs, and leaned back,
pressing against his chest. Riltan closed his arms around her and
simply held her. A long time passed before either of them made
another move.
Finally they both stood and made their way back to the camp,
where Iro had busied herself with completing the meal. She was
both pleased at Takene's apparent progress and annoyed that it
was not her who had been there for Riltan. She had backed off,
honouring Takene's request, but she hadn't liked it, nor was
she sure how long she would stay away. She still felt that
Riltan was hers by right.

During the meal Riltan was continually looking around him,
then back to his companions around the cook fire. He was obviously
deep in thought and no one disturbed him.
They would have to leave eventually, he thought, though this
would be a nice place to set up a home. He looked around him.
Yes, it would be a good place, but the children needed people
around them, some sort of schooling - for Lere, at least - and
some young men for Iro. No, as nice as it would be to stay,
staying was not an option.
Where, then, to go? Slindaria was out of the question. Even
if they managed to survive the trek back through the wastelands
it would still be death for him. No one in Slindaria would know,
would care, that he was no longer the one whose name was best
forgotten. They would not forget and sooner or later, most likely
sooner, he would be discovered and discovery would mean death. He
wouldn't even allow himself to think what returning to the
Wastelands would mean to him.
Trianne was also a poor choice. What with the war with
Slindaria, Takene's presence would not be appreciated. That
he had originally come from Trianne would help little - his
long absence would be questioned and those questions he would
not wish to answer.
H'Las would probably be their best bet. It was neutral
and had a reputation for welcoming immigrants. Yes, that
would do fine for all of them. H'Las had been where he'd been
headed anyway. It would make them a . . .
Riltan's speculations came to a crashing halt as something
he had not considered cut across his line of thought. What if
Takene and the others did not wish to come with him? He looked
casually at Takene, beside him, not wanting to communicate
his fear. She smiled at him.
Such beauty in her smile. It almost caused him physical
pain. What right had he to such beauty? Foolish thinking,
that. He had the same right as any man. And he could be good
for them, too - at least he hoped so. He returned her smile.

It had been a long day and soon both Lere and Iro were in
their beds. The sun had disappeared and the twilight was
fading into the night as Riltan made sure that everything was
in its place. Satisfied, he then sat by the fire, across from
Takene who was holding her hands up to its warmth.
Takene's eyes appeared to gleam, reflecting the flames
of the fire. In the flickering light, with shadows flitting
across her, her face held a mystery, a beauty, which Riltan
found exhilarating.
His head was cocked to one side and he gazed upon her,
his own face softened by the joy with which he watched her.
Her eyes met his and she smiled warmly at him. His pulse
quickened.

He *was* rather handsome, Takene thought, as she smiled
at him across the fire, and his face was softer now than she
had ever seen it. Not cute, but definitely handsome, she
decided.
Her gaze locked with his and they stared into each other's
eyes, became lost in the gaze. There was a pop from the fire
and the spell was broken. Even so, Takene noted that little
tensions were floating throughout her body. Her stomach, in
particular, was tight. She had the sudden urge to stretch and
obeyed the urge. It amused her to see Riltan mirroring her
action across the fire.
One of them would have to make a first move, she thought,
and pushed herself to her feet. She grinned as Riltan's face
betrayed a disappointment which vanished as she simply moved
around the fire to sit beside him - she wasn't letting him
get away so easily this time, and it seemed that he didn't
wish to get away. It was a promising beginning.

Riltan's relief was great as he realized that Takene was
not leaving the fireside. He moved over slightly, giving her
room to sit on the short log which he was using as a seat.
She placed her hand on his thigh to steady herself as she sat
and he felt the heat from her palm through his pants, heat
which traveled up his leg to warm him throughout.
Riltan tentatively placed his hand over hers, feeling his
stomach jump as he did so. Strange that this should be so
difficult and then again not strange at all. It was all new
to him, not the actions, the emotions. Never before had
he, or his predecessors, felt about another person as he now
felt about Takene. Never before had the need been so great
for his feelings to be accepted and returned. Never before
was the fear so great that they would not be, that any move
he might make would result in the rebuff which would shatter
a dream.
His hand became trapped as Takene covered it with her
other hand, warmed it, held it fast. He bent forward
slightly and added his free hand to the stack. His eyes
moved slowly from their intertwined hands to her face, finding
her eyes already watching his. Was the dream becoming a
reality?

So tentative, she thought, wonderingly. Surely he knew
his advances would not be rejected, that she had long been
pursuing a course leading to this moment. Why else had she
made his bed her own; why else had she held him night after
night, if not for just this purpose? Surely he must know
that . . . .
His eyes found and held hers and her breath caught.
Suddenly she knew and her eyes widened. The look she saw
in Riltan's eyes she had seen in no eyes since her man had
died. For a moment she could not breathe.
Could it be? Had she been that much more successful than
she would have believed possible? She had been trying to lure
him with her body, to bind him with her body, with sex. Instead,
it appeared, he had bound himself, had fallen in love with her.
All that remained was to complete the seduction - he would be hers.
The victory did not bring to her the elation which only
minutes ago it would have. Instead it brought a sorrow, as she
contemplated the turning of another's love into a weapon which
would betray he who loved. She swallowed. It was a hard thing
she did, yet her duty was clear. She smiled into his eyes.

Riltan noted the moment of hesitation, before Takene leaned
her head in to his, saw it disappear and rejoiced - Takene had
made her decision and it was for him. Their foreheads touched
and Riltan felt the joy bubble up through him. She had chosen
him - a conscious decision, not a drifting into a companionship,
into a situation which she had not thought out, but a conscious
decision.
That meant more to the man whose life now consisted of
conscious decisions than he would ever be able to explain.
She had chosen him!

Takene felt Riltan stroke her, gently running his hand
over her head and down her loose hair, over and over. He cupped
her face in his hand and she allowed her head to lean into his
palm. She would have to show him how much she enjoyed this, she
thought, and let out a sigh as she slowly closed her eyes.
It was her duty, she thought, yet a part of her could not
deny the enjoyment of his simple touch, a touch which had for
so long, now, been missing from her life. His other hand slipped
out from under hers and then he was gently holding her face between
his hands. She opened her eyes to find his, mere centimeters away,
gazing at her with such an expression that her breath caught again.
Playfully he moved forward and rubbed her nose with his own,
causing her to smile. Her smile engendered one of his own, and
then he was kissing her, oh so gently, on the corner of her mouth.
His lips wandered slowly along her cheek to her ear and then down
to her neck where he nuzzled her lightly.
The hum of contentment, which began as artifice, became
genuine. Takene could feel the warm breath at her throat,
exciting her, comforting her. Thoughts of her man were put
aside, gently and with care. She had been true to his memory
for these past two years - it was time to allow herself to
enjoy the pleasures of the body, to be with a man again,
even if it was this man.

Takene's hand was at the back of his head, fingers in his
hair, pulling him gently in as he nuzzled her neck. It added
to his joy to feel her beginning to respond, to engage in
their loveplay.
His hand was caressing her hair, gliding down her back,
causing little tremors to run through her. She noticed that
his breathing was becoming a little ragged and grinned as she
noted the same about her own. She opened her eyes, then gasped.
Alerted by her gasp and the light pressure of her hand on
his cheek, Riltan turned his head to see what had captured her
attention. The great moon, full and in all its glory, was rising
above the horizon, a great pale yellow globe.
There was majesty there, in the moon, and somehow they both
felt that it had risen to give witness to them. Both were held
by its beauty for a long moment, then as one they turned back to
each other and came together in a kiss.
He was trembling and didn't know why. He knew only that
she, too, had noticed this and looked at him wonderingly. Then
she was on her feet, drawing him with her, back to their bed.
She pulled his shirt over his head and off, allowed her fingers
to enjoy the feel of his bare skin, stroking his back as he held
her close, then turned to allow him to remove her blouse.
He did so slowly, touching and kissing her shoulders and back
as the blouse was slowly lowered and removed. He turned her to
face him, and they came together in a hug, both enjoying the feel
of skin upon skin.
As if of one mind, they suddenly separated. There was no
more lingering. They both stripped quickly, eager to be naked
in the sight of one another. In his haste to doff his pants,
Riltan fell back onto the bed, causing them both to laugh
quietly.
From his position on his rear Riltan looked up to see
Takene silhouetted by the moon. The beauty of her form took his
breath away. Then she was on top of him, pushing him back, down,
until he was lying flat on his back with her above him. His hands
reached up to stroke her breasts, paying attention to the undersides
and upper slopes as well as the nipples. She shuddered and his
heart leaped inside him.
Takene became aware of the coolness of the air and they took
a moment to scoot beneath the blankets. She still straddled him,
but now had the blanket around her shoulders, creating a tent,
beneath which their hands were active.
He was hard and she was ready so she raised herself and
positioned him at her lips. For a long moment they remained
poised thus, looking into each other's eyes. Then Takene slowly
lowered herself, giving forth with a gasp of pleasure. It had
been a long time, indeed.
Riltan felt himself slip inside the warm wetness of Takene
and felt his entire body thrill at the sensation. He caressed
her sides and arms until she became used to him in her and began
moving. Then he began rocking his hips gently. There was no
hurry, ecstasy could wait.
It was good, so good, being filled by a man once more, yet
Takene couldn't enjoy it to the extent she would have wished.
Thoughts of her purpose distracted her; memories of the stories
told about the man she had mounted broke through and worried her.
Yet this could not be the same man, for Riltan was nothing if not
gentle. He was genuinely concerned for her pleasure, his hands
roaming her body, touching here and there, stroking, tweaking,
caressing.
As she rose and fell on him, his hand lowered to the juncture
of their bodies and his thumb found her clit and lightly rubbed it.
Takene shivered in pleasure and moved faster.
Riltan was finding it more and more difficult to think. His
body was engaged in a lovemaking, the like of which he had only
dreamed. As he rose to a peak, though, he became aware that
she was tiring. She lowered her body to his and he, using his
strength, rose up and turned over with her hanging onto him. Now
on top, he plunged into her more rapidly. Her breathing was coming
in gasps, as was his.
Takene's heels pressed against him, pushing him into her. His
excitement rose and he could hold back no longer. He groaned and
drove into her one last time before coming.
For some moments he lay on her, his weight trapping her,
until he recovered enough to take up his own weight again.
He reached one arm around her and, holding her tight to him,
turned again so she was on top once more, he still held within
her. Much better, he thought, as his hands were free to caress
and stroke her back.
He began talking to her, softly speaking of his love. She would
not understand the words, yet she would know what he was saying. She
was beautiful, she was his world. His touch would let her know of
his love as well.
Her head was resting on his chest, and she could both feel and
hear his heart beat. She heard his words and tears began to form,
to slowly run down until they dropped, one by one, onto him, her
lover. She had not come. It was unimportant. It had been good,
she felt loved and cherished, and next time it would be better. Next
time there would be no fears.
Slowly, in a cloudy haze of contentment, Takene slipped into
sleep. She did not notice it when Riltan stopped murmuring his
sweet words and eased out from under her - even a child would grow
unbearably heavy after a time and she was no child - leaving her
arm across him, her head on his shoulder.

Across the camp, eyes wide in the darkness, Iro had listened
to the sounds, had watched the movements as they sped then slowed.
The low cries of delight had redoubled her intention: she, too,
would have that pleasure - soon. It was her right and Takene would
not stop her.

End of Chapter 4, A Question of Honour, by Delta delta@nym . alias . net

A QUESTION OF HONOUR
Chapter 5

Riltan hummed softly as he skinned the ungulate which he had
shot. Next to him Lere watched carefully, knowing that he would
have to learn this skill. Sure enough, Riltan motioned him to
take over.
Riltan guided Lere's hand for the first few strokes, then
sat back to allow the boy to find his own rhythm. The sun
warmed him and he thought about how beautiful life could be.
He had never imagined anything like this at all. From
having nothing at all, he had suddenly come into a windfall - a
family: a beautiful mate who made the nights a joy, a boy to whom
he could impart the things he had learned and . . . and Iro. Iro
he couldn't quite place yet. She seemed a creature of moods, one
who could swing wildly from one to another without apparent cause.
And sometimes she gave him the most curious looks - mainly when
she didn't think he was looking, yet sometimes when he obviously
was.
Iro was a mystery to him, yet it did not stop him from enjoying
her company - even though they could barely communicate at all. Of
the four of them, Iro's signing was the most rudimentary. It didn't
matter, of course. Soon they would be in H'Las and learning the
language there.
Riltan looked up to watch Lere's progress. He was doing well
for one of so little experience. Riltan leaned forward and
corrected a small fault in Lere's technique, feeling good as he
did so. It was good to be able to pass on some of the things he
had learned, to instruct Lere, to see him grow more competent with
each day and to know that it due in no small part to his teaching.
Life was good.
Lere finished and began cutting up the meat as Riltan had
instructed him before. The meat would be dried and used as rations
for their trek to H'Las. Soon they would have enough food to begin
the journey, or so he told himself. In fact, the food they had
would be more than adequate. He, however, wished a greater variety,
or so he told himself.
Though Riltan had not yet formally broached the subject of
leaving with Takene, he knew she would agree. They couldn't stay
here, and there was nowhere else for them to go. He would bring it
up to her soon, he decided.
The only thing stopping him was the joy he felt in this place,
the only place he had ever thought of as 'home'. It would be
difficult to leave, no matter how necessary. He breathed in deeply
of the forest's scent and felt at peace. Broaching the subject
of leaving with Takene could wait another day. Meanwhile . . .
Riltan smiled again as he hummed, enjoying the buzzing of
insects, the sporadic calls of the birds and the sun on his face.
Life was good.

"I think you are delaying on purpose." Iro had made up her
mind to confront Takene about Riltan once again, but this time
she was going at it from a different slant.
Takene sighed as she prepared for yet another argument. She
knew how Iro was impatient to complete the rites, and she agreed
that the completion should come as soon as possible, yet to hurry
was to invite disaster.
"I'm not delaying, Iro. I'm waiting for the moment which
promises the best chance of success." Or was she? Was Iro right?
Was she enjoying the nights with Riltan so much that she was
putting off discussing with him leaving for Slindaria?
"How do you think my parents are feeling now, thinking that
Lere and I are dead?"
"I think they'll be happier waiting a little longer to be
proven wrong, than to be proven right, Iro. And if we move too soon
the odds are we will indeed end up dead. But it isn't your parents
you are thinking of, is it?"
Iro flushed, caught on that point. "Okay, maybe not, but until
we get back, I'll be unable to complete the rites." She paused, and
Takene knew what was coming. "As long as you persist in saying that
Riltan is unsuitable, that is."
Takene groaned inwardly. Back to this again. "Why can't you
just . . ." She couldn't even complete the sentence before Iro
interrupted her.
"I've been listening to you during the nights, you know."
Now it was Takene who flushed and Iro, sensing an advantage, pressed
forward. "You seem to be enjoying Riltan. You get up in the morning,
looking very satisfied. I don't see any hints of mistreatment. Tell
me, Takene, just what constitutes unsuitable?
"From my studies it seems to me that Riltan is suitable. He is
gentle, isn't he?"
Frustrated, Takene could only nod.
"He is skilled, isn't he - or is it that you are so horny that
anyone could get you off."
"Iro!" The word exploded out of Takene. "There is no call for
that."
"And there is no call to keep me waiting either. Tell me,
Aunt," Iro said sarcastically, "just what about Riltan is unsuitable?
Nothing, that's what." She answered her own question.
At that moment they saw Riltan and Lere returning.
"We'll continue this discussion later, Iro."
"Yes, that's what you always say." Iro was angry. "Okay,
Takene, we'll do it your way." She turned away, then turned back.
"Just one thing, though . . ."
"Yes?"
"You are wrong, Takene. You are wrong." Iro turned away,
leaving Takene frustrated and wondering if Iro were not correct.
She turned, also, to contemplate this and, thus occupied, she failed
to hear Iro come up behind her.
"And Takene, you make such pretty sounds," Iro whispered in
her ear.
Takene was still blushing furiously when Riltan and Lere
walked into the camp.

As Iro had suggested, the nights with Riltan had been very
enjoyable. And, again as Iro had suggested, he was gentle, very
gentle. This gentleness had gone a far way towards allaying her
fears and now he had only to touch her and she found herself
moistening, getting ready for him.
She had been right, as well. It had only become better.
His skilled touch sent her spiraling upwards quickly, and her
orgasms were becoming more powerful with each day.
Takene grinned at the irony. She had been trying to gain his
trust, and he had gained hers. The only difference between the
two of them being that he had no ulterior motive behind his
loveplay, while she did. Her smile faded.
Yes, these past days had been good, very good, and she hated
for them to end, yet end they must. Iro was right in one respect,
in that she wasn't hurrying to push Riltan towards leaving. She
sighed. It was time.
Riltan's face suddenly filled her vision and she started.
He grinned at her, knowing her mind had been elsewhere and that
she had not seen him approach.
<Good thoughts?> he asked.
<Yes-No. You-me walk> she suggested.
The slow smile that reached and encompassed his eyes thrilled
her. Her intention to walk and talk would not end with that, she
knew, as he put his arm around her shoulders and drew her in to
him. She shivered in delight and heard his soft chuckle at
her reaction.
Turning her head she looked up at his face. Gone completely
was the chiseled look of the killer who she had first seen and
feared. This was a different man, entirely, and would remain as
such - as long as she didn't take him back into his old world.
Her smile faded. That was something she couldn't avoid. The joy
of the afternoon left her.
Riltan sensed her change and stopped then turned to face her.
His hand traced a pattern on her cheek as he looked deeply into
her eyes. Could he sense the sadness there, she wondered.
His fingers moved up to her forehead then came down gently
over her eyes, closing them. Takene knew what was coming and
lifted her head in preparation for the kiss. Instead she felt
herself being roughly lifted and thrown over his shoulder. Her
eyes snapped open and she gasped as he started off, jolting
her with each step.
"Put me down, you big oaf," she ordered him, beating futilely
on his back. She knew he would understand.
"Quiet, you!" he told her in her own language, his words heavily
accented, and gave her a sharp slap on the rear.
Riltan began humming happily as he strode along and Takene
knew she was being carried off to be ravished. Excitement leaped
within her. She considered her plight for a moment then, with
a grin began to tickle him. Another sharp slap on her rear
stopped her.
"Ow. What was that for?" she asked plaintively, only to
get another slap.
"Quiet, you," Riltan chuckled, then spanked her once more
for good measure.
"Ow!" It didn't hurt as near as much as her cry suggested
and he knew it.
"Sorry." He sounded contrite, but wasn't. He started tenderly
stroking her rear, soothing the hurt.
"Oh my!" His stroking didn't stop at her slightly smarting
ass cheeks, but delved in between her legs, and she parted them
the small bit she could to give him a little more room. "Oh, yes."
It felt very good.
Soon, too soon, she was being lowered to the grassy ground.
The last few centimeters she was simply dumped, then pushed back
on her back before she could protest. His hands grasped her
shirt and pulled it from her pants. Then he was astride her,
pinning her arms to her sides with his legs and unbuttoning her
shirt, paying no attention at all to her weak struggles to
escape.
Her shirt was open almost to the waist and his fingers roamed
about her breasts, tweaking her nipples, caressing her bare skin.
She groaned in pleasure, not wanting this to end. She wondered
how far he would go in his pretense. A thought occurred to her.
She had to know.
"Riltan." She spoke sharply. He immediately stopped what
he was doing and looked at her inquiringly. Satisfied, she
simply stuck out her tongue at him.
His low chuckle rumbled out and he bent over to kiss her.
She closed her eyes and lifted her lips to him. When the kiss
did not come she looked up. He looked cross.
"Bad you!" he exclaimed.
Takene was about to reply when his fingers dug into her
ribs. She exploded in laughter and tried desperately to get away.
No matter how she twisted and heaved she could not get away. He was
just too heavy to move.
"Good Takene," she finally gasped and he relented, pulling
back up to look at her suspiciously.
"Good Takene?" he questioned.
"Good Takene," she confirmed, trying to look as meek as
possible.
He unbuttoned his fly and pulled his cock out. It was
semi hard. "Good Takene?" he asked her again, his eyes narrow,
doubting.
As a reply she opened her mouth and ran her tongue around
her lips and winked at him lasciviously. She could see him
struggling to keep a straight face. Suddenly he looked angry,
though his eyes were twinkling. He sat back in thought as
he ran through his knowledge of her language. Finally he
nodded to himself.
"No. Bad Takene. To punish," he said sternly, and put
his cock back inside his pants.
"Punish?" Her voice quavered. "No. Good Takene," she
protested. "Why would you wa - whoa!" He jumped off her,
rolled her over on her face and straddled her again in one swift
move.
"Quiet you!" he ordered as he pulled her shirt halfway down
her back, pinning her arms. He turned around to face her feet
and pulled her legs up one at a time to remove her boots and socks.
Then he began pushing her pants down, baring her buttocks. As they
appeared he stopped and stroked them a bit before pushing her
pants down to her knees. She felt his finger pushing between
her thighs, touching her, pressing into her, and she groaned.
Then it was gone and she felt the loss. She heard him
sucking her juices off his finger and smacking his lips in
approval.
Suddenly he was off her and pulling at her pants roughly.
She grabbed onto the grass to prevent herself from being dragged
and her pants came off in short order. Then she was flipped over
once more. She looked up through the wild mess that was her hair.
He stood above her, looking grim.
"Quiet you," he warned as she made to speak. "Bad Takene.
To punish." He kicked softly at her feet. She got the message
and spread her legs. He motioned for her to close her eyes,
which she did. He kept her waiting only a few seconds.
"Oh!" His mouth was at her sex, tongue lapping vigourously.
Her eyes snapped open in surprise then languidly closed as the
waves of pleasure began to wash through her. One finger entered
her, then another and, as they slowly moved in and out, his tongue
found and began to concentrate on her clit.
Takene had been ready, very ready, for the sexplay and Riltan's
tongue drove her relentlessly toward a powerful orgasm. She moaned
and twisted, wished she could move her hands up to touch her breasts,
yet the thrill of being held captive was delicious to her as well.
Gods of the Skies and Trees! He was allowing her no time at
all to get set; he was simply driving her from level to level,
higher and higher. This would be no gentle, relaxing orgasm, but
a sharp powerful one which would rock her very being. She dug
her fingers into the earth as it began.
Takene's legs pushed her lower body up as the orgasm took
hold. They held there for a long moment, with Riltan still flicking
away, before collapsing back down. Her breath came in ragged
gasps and a moan of joyful despair issued forth as she realized
that he was not going to let her rest at all, but was pushing her
back up to the heights once more.
Takene clenched her jaw as her body, in an amazingly short
period of time, spiraled up to the threshold of her second
orgasm. She was panting through her teeth, then her breath held
as she came to the point of orgasm and . . . and he stopped, leaving
her there on the edge.
"Bad Takene?" his voice was a mixture of laughter and exertion.
"Good Takene," she wailed, her wail punctured by another gasp
as he renewed his assault.
It was too much and her body bent like a bow.

Curled in a ball, her head resting on his lap, Takene slowly
came down. Riltan continued stroking her, caressing her, talking
softly to her in his own language. She felt blanketed by love and
cherished by this man . . . her man.
"You can punish me like that any time you want," she murmured
as her energy began to return. Her eyes opened and she looked up
at him. He looked at a loss and she uncurled and repeated what
she said in sign. He grinned at her.
<Feel better?>
<Feel beautiful> she replied.
<Look beautiful> His eyes told her it was truth and she
flung herself at him, covering his face with hundreds of little
kisses, until he fell back with her on top of him.
Then she was tearing at his clothes, pulling them off him
roughly, making him as naked as she was. Successful, she paused.
He was soft - not for long, she determined and, with a wicked
grin, went down on him. In only moments he was stiffening
nicely.
It was payback time. Takene swirled her tongue around him,
drawing out little gasps of pleasure, as she pumped him with her
hand. She was determined to drive him as he had driven her and
employed every trick at her command. It worked and it was now
Riltan who was gasping for breath. Now he was poised on the
brink and it was she who suddenly stopped. She looked up at
him, eyes twinkling, and asked, "Takene Good?"
Riltan's eyes focused on her and he moaned his agreement,
"Takene Good, Takene much good."
Satisfied, Takene moved to complete him. Within a minute
Riltan groaned loudly and came, his body bucking up then falling
back. She continued to suck and lick until he was finished, then
moved up and lay next to him, basking in the sun.

It was finally time to leave and the two lovers reluctantly
donned their clothes. Riltan looked around sadly. Takene watched
him expectantly. There was something on his mind.
<Time leave soon> he signed.
Takene nodded, pleased that he had brought it up. Now,
however, it was going to get a little tricky. He was so happy
here, so unlike what he had been when they had met, that she
was loathe to do anything to ruin it.
<Yes. Children must go-to parents> she replied.
Riltan looked shocked. <Parents? Parents not dead?>
<No. Parents not dead>
<Where?> A sickly pall of knowing settled on his features.
"Slindaria," she said quietly, wincing as the reality of
the situation came upon him, twisting his face.
"Slindaria," he whispered hoarsely.
<Yes. You take us, yes?>
Takene had to look away. The horror in his eyes was too much
for her. It had to be done, she tried to convince herself, yet
nothing would wipe the memory of that look from her mind. Could
anything be worth doing that to another? She turned back. He was
still in shock.
<You take us, yes?> she repeated, feeling her stomach twist
even as she did so.
He was shaking, his hands trembling uncontrollably, as he
answered. <You must not ask> he pleaded. <We go H'Las, yes?
Better. We go H'Las, please?>
<Can't. Children must go-to parents. I must take them.
Duty. I go-to Slindaria. You help?>
Riltan's face collapsed. "Wasteland," he whispered in
horror. <Can't> he signed and turned away, tears flowing freely
from his eyes and down his face.
Riltan stumbled, as if he were no longer able to see well,
and Takene, a lump in her throat, moved to his side and placed
her arm around his waist.
Together, and in silence, the unhappy couple returned to
the camp.

Riltan was sunk in the miasma of his thoughts. She didn't
know what she was asking. She couldn't know. Slindaria. The
Wastelands. This couldn't be asked of him. All the joy of
the day was dead. He loved her, them. They couldn't ask
this of him. He would die for them - gladly - but to go back,
no. No, he wouldn't, couldn't. Didn't they know what it would
do to him?
He lowered his head and held it in his hands. Slowly he
began rocking back and forth, seeking comfort in the movement.
Life was not good.

"What have you done?" Iro hissed at Takene. Lere stood
by, unsure of what was happening, knowing only that something
was terribly wrong.
"Only what you asked of me, Iro. Only what duty demanded
of me. I quit stalling. I asked him to help us get back to
Slindaria." Takene was subdued. She had grossly underestimated
how Riltan would react to her request. His pain tore at her
insides and it was all she could do to keep herself from running
to him, from telling him that it was okay, that they would go
to H'Las with him.
"I never asked you to do that. Look at him. I never asked
you to do that to him." Iro turned and walked away.
Takene smiled grimly, bitterly. Iro wasn't ready yet to face
up to her responsibilities. She would learn. She would have to.
For the present, however, Iro could run. She couldn't. Takene made
her way over to where Riltan sat and knelt beside him. She put her
arm around him.
Riltan jumped up as though scalded. He looked at her, as if
seeing her for the first time. She stood and made to speak but
he threw up his hand, stopping her. He looked at her a long moment
before turning and walking out of the camp.
Takene hugged herself and bent over, bitter tears falling
from her eyes. She felt so very alone. It wasn't fair. It
just wasn't fair. She stumbled over to her bed, their bed, and
fell onto it, curling into a tight ball, the pain overwhelming
her.

Hours later, in the early hours of the morning, just before
sunrise, Riltan returned. Takene looked up at him with eyes
darkened from a sleepless night. He sat down tiredly.
Takene noticed that his eyes were now guarded and his
face betrayed nothing. She waited, knowing that he would
speak when he was ready. Finally he was ready.
<I help, yes. I go, no. Rain soon. You wait. Leave
when rain come. I draw map, tell you how best to go, help
pack.>
<Thank-you> Takene signed. Riltan shrugged and lay
down to sleep. Takene lay down next to him and put her
arm around him. He neither moved away nor took her arm to
hold.

In the days which followed, as they waited for the rain,
Riltan was as good as his word. He worked tirelessly to prepare
the three for the journey to come. He spent hours explaining the
best routes to take in order to avoid contact with the occupants
of the Wastelands, spared no effort in the drawing of his maps or
in the practice sessions he held for loading and unloading the
pack animal.
Speed was of the essence he told them time and time again.
No one moved during the rainy days - which could last a week or
a day - and water would be plentiful. The more distance they
covered during this time, the better their chances were. Once
the rains stopped, they would be slowed considerably and water
would become a problem.
Keep the pack animal as long as it was of value, but the
moment it began to consume more than it was worth - dispose of it.
Best to kill it, but if they couldn't bring themselves to do that,
then just let it go. It might survive and find water, it might not.
To Takene alone he gave the advice to be ruthless towards
any they might meet. Just kill them where they stand, he told her,
knowing that she probably wouldn't be able to do that. Their best
protection would be lack of knowledge of their presence. The more
people that knew they were there, the greater the chances of someone
hunting them.
Then, at last, it was all done. Preparations had been completed.
all they needed now was the rain. There was a tension in the camp -
the knowledge that the parting of ways was coming pervaded everything
and no one could relax. It was the waiting out of a lingering
death.
Even Iro ceased her campaign to have Riltan as her first man.
His gloom made it uncomfortable to be around him. Though Takene
still shared his bed, Iro knew that they no longer made love. There
were no sounds from them at night. This was not what she had wanted.
She knew of the necessity of getting to Slindaria, and quickly at
that, yet a part of her wanted to go with Riltan to H'Las.
Lere was hit hardest. He couldn't understand why they were
to separate, why his only adult friend would be lost to him. He
moped around the camp feeling that all the others had betrayed him.

She was being shaken. Takene's eyes opened to the predawn
gloom. She looked up at Riltan, her eyes questioning.
<Listen> he signed.
She concentrated and off in the distance she heard it then,
thunder. The rains were coming. She turned back to Riltan, but
he was gone, waking Lere and Iro.
There was urgency in the air. She made a quick breakfast as
Lere and Riltan loaded the pack animal. The sun didn't rise. The
morning light showed banks of clouds in the distance, grey and
menacing. The rains would be there late this day or perhaps the
next. It was time to go.
Riltan led the way to the dry creek bed. He stopped at its
edge, unwilling to even set foot on it. He looked out in the
direction of the clouds.
<Not too late. H'Las there> he pointed.
Takene sighed. <Can't. Duty> She gave a half smile. <Not
too late. Come?>
Riltan looked down. <Can't> He kicked at his boot. <Go.
Go quickly. Go carefully. Go now.>
Takene nodded, then stepped up to him and hugged him tightly.
She felt the return hug almost squeeze the breath out of her. Too
soon, much too soon it was over.
<Thank you for my life> she signed, then turned and led her
charges across the dry creek bed.
Riltan watched them for a moment, then turned. Soon there would
be water rushing here, making it impossible to cross. He walked away,
holding back the tears which he would not recognize, would not allow.
He arrived back at the camp, deciding that he would wait out the
rain before moving on. The morning drifted into the afternoon and
the afternoon into evening. The camp was empty. Empty of people,
empty of life and empty of the joy which had once been. He couldn't
stay. He would leave the next morning, walk on through the rain.
Anything was better than staying here. He began to pack.

The morning came, grey and cool. Riltan made a quick breakfast
and shouldered his pack. It felt strange to be traveling again,
stranger still not to be carrying his shoulder weapon, but he had
decided that Takene would need it more than he.
Riltan took one last look around and set out, not wanting to
think of what this place had meant to him. It was over. It was
all over.
He came to the fork in the trail. To the right lay H'Las and
a new life. To the left, the Wasteland. He gazed to the left a
long time, wanting to go, knowing he could not. It was a question
of survival. If he went, even if he lived, he died. Yet what was
life without the one he loved? No. It was a question of survival.
Cross the creek bed, follow the others, and the one he would become
would not be welcomed by those he went to help. The one he had
become, with their help, would die in there. It was a question
of survival.
Riltan gave a long sigh and shifted the weight on his back.
His foot hit the creek bed even as the first drop of rain hit
his wide brimmed hat. The first step was hard, the next a little
easier, then he was hurrying.
It was, he decided, a question of honour.

End of "A Question of Honour" by Delta.