Chapter 21
The morning before the festival and her body still thrumming from thorough ravishment by her three mates, Ursula greeted her former colleague and good friend, Carmen, with a cry of joy and a hug.
Her three mates lingered a few steps behind with Crow bouncing on his toes.
Carmen’s own triad waited a few steps behind her with their two sons who eager to play with Crow.
The warrior males exchanged murmurs of formal greeting and glances of indulgent amusement at their mates’ antics.
“You boys do whatever it is you plan on doing,” Ursula said with a wave of dismissal at their mates. She ignored Zul’s snort and continued, “Crow, you and Carmen’s boys mind Suvesh. Auntie Carmen and I are going to catch up.”
The two women walked off, arm in arm, toward the drawing room Ursula preferred to use when meeting with friends and acquaintances.
It was furnished with comfortable seating and decorated in soothing pastels.
Small tables bore smaller trays of sweetmeats and other tiny confections ladies could neatly pop into their mouths.
Tall windows let in plenty of natural light despite that day’s unusual drizzle.
“I love that you call me auntie. It makes me feel like I have family here.” Carmen took off her damp wrap and handed it to a waiting castratus. “The desert will really bloom after this.”
Two more castrati stationed themselves in the room, ready to serve their mistress and her most honored guest.
“I know. It’ll be gorgeous! Would you like lemonade or ti’chal?”
Carmen eyed the small, sugar-coated balls that reminded her of almond puffs. “Lemonade, please. Were you able to procure lemon trees for your greenhouse?”
“I was!”
One of the two castrati poured Carmen a glass of lemonade and handed it to her. The other castratus, seeing the direction of her gaze, began filling a small plate with her favorite treats.
“Ti’chal, please.”
The castratus poured Ursula a cup of the fragrant hot beverage. She smiled and glanced out the nearest window. “I love how everything just bursts into bloom after a rain. The world will smell like nutmeg when the firethorn blooms—heavenly!”
Carmen seated herself, and the castratus set her plate on the small table beside her. “And it’s just in time for your festival.”
“It is.” Ursula seated herself opposite her friend. “So, which of your men is going to be your partner dancing the flamenco?”
Carmen grinned. “Pako’s going to play the guitar, can you imagine it?”
Ursula snickered, trying and unable to imagine the hulking male strumming guitar strings without snapping them with his claws. “And?”
“Yiis will be my cantante, my singer. You’ll be surprised, but he has a really wonderful voice.”
“It’s a shame Urib culture discourages artistic pursuits among males,” Ursula commented.
“It is. I had to cry to get them to agree to accompany me.”
“You little manipulator,” Ursula wheezed through her giggles.
Carmen’s rich laughter filled the room. “Oh, they knew exactly what I was doing, but the big bad warriors’ inability to endure a few crocodile tears gave them the excuse they needed to indulge me.”
Ursula leaned forward. “And did that indulgence…”
“Oh, you know it did,” Carmen crowed while the light caramel color of her cheeks turned rosy. She leaned forward, too. “And I’m pregnant again.”
“That’s wonderful. Are you still able to dance?”
“I’m able. The question was whether I’m allowed,” Carmen admitted.
She leaned back and took a sip of lemonade.
“But as I’m not yet showing and because I’ve delivered two children without any issues before, my triad agreed to let me fulfill my commitment to you.
” She grinned. “I had to remind them that exercise is good for pregnant women.”
Ursula pressed her hand against her own abdomen and wondered when she might next conceive.
Since the Rite of First Union, all three of her mates had been most assiduous in their attentions, singly and together.
She was healthy and still young. Surely, she’d conceive soon. “So, how is Mosk at dancing?”
“Adequate.” Carmen’s eyes twinkled and she grinned. “He likes the stomping parts.”
“Well, he is your berserker.”
“Indeed he is.” Carmen popped a pastry into her mouth and chewed. “We were hoping to avail ourselves of your Suvesh to watch our sons during our performance.”
“Of course, although Zul volunteered for babysitting duty,” Ursula said. “You know, I offered Suvesh the day off, but he absolutely refused to accept it. I’ve got to admit, Crow minds no one else as well as he does Suvesh, and Suvesh really is good with him. So is Zul.”
“Zul is that hunk-a-licious berserker who’s your new Third?” Carmen grinned.
“He is a beautiful brute of a male, isn’t he?” Ursula held out her hands to display the heavy, bejeweled bracelets encircling her wrists. “And generous, too. Yesterday’s gifts, just because. He has a crazy need to drape me in jewelry.”
“But you’re not complaining.”
“No, I’m not. He has exquisite taste. And, of course, Gil and Bran feel compelled to match his generosity. My jewelry chest is overflowing. If I ever have a daughter, her mates will never need to buy her anything sparkly. I’ll just give her half my stuff.”
“So, tell me the schedule,” Carmen said, switching the subject while she ran her fingertips over the heavy, intricate links of the bejeweled necklace draped across her own collarbones.
The sparkling clip in her thick black hair matched.
Her own triad enjoyed bedecking her in arachnasilk and gemstones, too.
She subtly wriggled in her seat, feeling the movement of the gold plug buried within her ass.
Luckily, the guest quarters were located a good distance from her hostess’ suite, and the walls and doors of the manse were thick and insulating, so she wouldn’t have to fret over her hostess and her mates overhearing the loud sounds of vigorous and enthusiastic fornication.
Ursula let her friend steer the conversation to the festival being held the day after next. After several minutes of detailed discussion, she asked, “Will your triad be helping with setup?”
Carmen shook her head. “No, I do believe they’ll be sequestered with your triad in finalizing whatever sneaky plans they’ve been discussing on the sly.”
Ursula’s eyes narrowed. “So, the Omari Triad is in cahoots with the Fangrys Triad?”
Carmen nodded. “You bet.”
“Do you know what it’s about?”
Carmen shook her head. “Not a clue. I can usually tease out what I want to know from my men, but not this time, not about this topic—whatever that topic is.”
“Same here. It’s frustrating.”
“I know. I don’t like it when they keep secrets from me.”
“Especially when I’m not allowed to keep secrets from them.”
“Fucking double standards,” Carmen muttered under her breath.
The two women munched on confections and tiny pastries and sipped at their beverages in companionable quiet for a moment before restarting their conversation.
Meanwhile, comfortably gathered in the manse’s conference room, the Fangrys and Omari Triads met via virtual video and audio connections with their co-conspirators to discuss treason.
Their seditious conversation was not recorded; Bran made sure of that.
Soon, they promised themselves, soon a new government—a new Council Supreme elected by the very people they governed—would represent the will of the Urib people and serve their best interests.
All that was left was to ensure the right people were in place, the right weapons were in place, and the right date and time were set.
Bran and Gil looked forward to the day when broken triads were not deployed away from their mates in not-so-covert attempts to kill them off—and the high caste survivors of broken dyads were not assassinated—so their brides could be reassigned to new mates to produce more offspring.
They also wanted to open access to imported brides for the lower castes as well, for those folk were just as crucial to the well-ordered operation of Urib society and commerce as were the high castes.
“Ursula would be astonished to hear of our egalitarian ambitions,” Bran commented when the brief meeting concluded.
“Egalitarian does not preclude authoritarian,” Pako pointed out. “Our ambitions do not include giving our females the freedoms they used to have on Earth.”
“True,” Zul said. “Our females must remain protected.”
The other five males in the room nodded their agreement.
“Are you prepared to serve as the Council Supreme’s new chairman?” Gil asked the Omari Prime.
The male nodded and replied, “Only with the Fangrys Triad and Mosk and Yiis as my advisors.”
“The Ulscanti Triad will arrive tomorrow,” Gil confirmed. “The official reason is to accompany their mate to the Halloween festival, but they will be bringing important communiques.”
“And the others?” Yiis prompted.
Bran answered, “They are ready to support us.”
“As long as we do not divulge their names,” Zul added, tasting the sour note in his voice.
Yiis shrugged. “When we succeed, they need not fear retribution. Until then, they are wise to be leery of discovery.”
“But are we certain of their loyalty?” Pako looked worried.
“Yes,” said Zul.
Bran smiled, revealing pointed teeth. “Yes. I made sure of it.”
Yiis blinked. “You didn’t?”
“I did.”
“You could establish yourself as a warlord with that kind of psychic strength.”
“I could, but I don’t want to,” Bran replied. He glanced at Gil and Zul. “It is sufficient to lead my triad.”
Gil and Zul nodded, the latter commenting, “He is a wise leader.”
Mosk’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Zul, then opened wide. “You were the Third of the Uk’khadir Triad. Borsulvar cen’Gyrah was your Prime.”
Zul nodded. “He was. You knew him?”
“I did. We were younglings together.” Mosk, with his customary blunt candor, then said, “You were well rid of him when he was killed in battle.”
Zul’s jaw clenched against the urge to snarl, and he maintained a stoic silence.
“Borsulvar was a bully,” Mosk stated.
Zul could not deny that and didn’t try.