Alien General's Baby (Brion Brides 7)(52)

Like telling a bedtime story to a child, the general was tempted with all his heart to let Naima stay in bed and watch her fall asleep, dreaming up wondrous days to come.

He did not.

Naima was right – they both seemed to have that habit, but for his part he didn't find it to be annoying at all.

It was more important that she focused her mind on something else. A real object, a tangible weapon to put her faith into. Distraction seemed to produce positive results now that she was wearing the glove. No dream, however real or beautiful, would help her now that she was in the reach of the enemy.

Tieran's letter haunted Braen as he took her hand, leading her to the workshops. If Audrey and Naima were showing similar symptoms, there could be no question about their origin. Pregnancies didn't bring troubles like that, not by far.

Once again, he found himself regretting that he'd brought Naima with him. On Briolina, under the watchful eyes of the best healers of his people, she might have been safer. Above all, Braen regretted that he hadn't been able to leave her on Laveden.

On that day, he should have made his heart cold and parted with his heart. In a way, he trusted Palians more than his own kind. They were just as dutiful, but altruistic in a way a Brion could never be. And they were smart.

On Laveden, Naima would have stayed under the supervision of the people who had the skill and ability to keep the glove working until he'd handled the Fearless. All that was gone now. Like Naima had said, nothing but dreams and lost opportunities. They'd come too far and the only hope they had was that it wasn't too late.

Naima was going to stay with him to the end. Just like she’d said.

Her hand in his was pure ice, but he could hear her heart beat wildly and surely. The warmth in her wasn't gone yet, just hidden. The general had to believe that. By killing the Fearless, he could bring her back to him and make her world warm again.

The workshop welcomed them with an almost festive mood. The entire place was crawling with workers, admiring the spear lying on the table. For him, it was like meeting an old friend, or possibly even more. Being parted from his weapon felt like being naked. The general ached to hold it in his hand again, get accustomed to its comfortable weight on his back.

Right under the long blade, the lifestone shone. Naima had given the Brions everything that was left of her piece after the Palians were finished with fitting the gloves for her and Audrey. It gleamed and sparkled, reminding Braen of the valor squares on his neck.

The comparison was a good one in his mind, like the lifestone was answering him, admitting him as its new master.

He hoped it was enough to cut the thread of a life that had lasted for an eternity.

"It's ready, General!" a warrior shouted victoriously, handing him the weapon.

Braen took the blade, giving it a testing twirl. By his side, Naima's smile was once again the warm one he loved so very dearly.

Holding the spear, Braen dared to hope again. Brions didn't much care for that emotion, because it implied a warrior needed luck or something out of their own control to triumph, but the circumstances were special. It was the first time he'd face an enemy with a blade he didn't know would work.

At the eve of the most important battle of his life, there was no fear in the general's heart. He was as ready as he was ever going to be.

The Fearless will die again. This time to never rise again.





31





Naima





The blade was gorgeous.

Naima had never liked violence, or condoned it if there was a peaceful solution. As such, she had never gotten the beauty of weapons. Like anyone, she could appreciate good artistry, but no sword or crafted gun had ever gotten her to admit it was easy on the eyes. Eventually, they were all tools of war and she couldn't look past that.

Braen's spear was, no doubt, exactly that. Yet with the gently glowing lifestone embedded into the dark silver shaft, casting the sharp blade in an aura of light – even she couldn't deny it was a beautiful thing.

The warriors around her were practically ecstatic. She couldn't relate to that sort of fervor, but she understood, in her own way. They were on the brink of a legendary battle, one they clearly all hoped to witness.

That was the weird thing about Brions. Well, one of the weird things, anyway. The Galactic union   freely called them the most self-centered species in the known universe, but the warriors actually had a lot of respect for the accomplishments of their brothers and sisters.#p#分页标题#e#

Naima had been aboard the Benevolent for long enough now to know that firsthand. She'd sat through impossibly long conversations, taking one tiny duel apart piece by piece, discussing every curve of the strikes and all scenarios. Some stemmed from the smallest things, like the chosen arena and the surface of it.

All eyes in the room were nailed to Braen. She watched with quiet awe as they admired their general, how they believed without the shadow of doubt ever crossing their mind that he'd slay the monster.

There would be many stories after that, Naima was sure. Tales would be told for ages, no matter the outcome.

She wanted to feel the same glee, the same excitement, but she couldn't muster any. Leave it to the Brions to welcome a war that common sense said could not be won with bright eyes and itching hands. For her, the whole affair was a little too close to home. She had too much to lose.

Everything, in fact.

Braen had become the most pivotal part of her life, along with the life growing in her belly. She couldn't imagine losing him.

A shot of pain went through her, just like that. Naima winced, biting her tongue not to cry out loud. The room around her was bustling with joy and hope was in the air. She didn't want to ruin it, knowing the general would shut down all cheer until she was fine again. Only Naima predicted she wouldn't be anything close to okay until the Fearless died.

She had given it a fair bit of thought and come to an alarming realization. For the past week that they'd spent flying through Uther territory, she'd gradually felt worse. All the symptoms she'd suffered on Matthos IV were back with a vengeance. She'd tried to hide it from Braen, but she'd failed.

Pain, unlike the cold, didn't show itself so blatantly. At least it hadn't done it so far, but now the surges of chilling torture shot through her more powerfully than before.

Alona pushed the crowd aside gently to make its way to her. The levity of the moment was so overwhelming that the Brions barely noticed the android.

Naima stepped away from Braen, giving room to his ardent admirers. The look on Alona's face wasn't promising, but the android said nothing, nodding to signal they should go and find someplace more private to speak.

Not promising at all.

They slipped out of the workshop, walking on until they reached a small, private corner.

At first, the darkness of the Benevolent had bothered Naima. Driven her mad, more like. Now, her eyes had gotten used to the everlasting dusk and to her astounded disbelief, she'd found that the gigantic warship was full of surprises. The most pleasant one, after Braen of course, were the little nooks, hidden behind walls, away from large corridors and hallways.

Kerven had peeled off from the crowd along with them, keeping at a reasonable distance to allow them some privacy. Though he clearly did not trust the android, he’d been given his commands and he stuck to them.

They sat down on a low ledge resting against one of the huge screens that seemed to be on every outer wall. Although there was a ton of metal between them and open space, Naima could almost believe she was separated from the vast emptiness by a thin sheet of glass.

With only stars to offer them company, the android took her hands into its own. Naima let it without question, anticipating what this was all about.

"What are you doing, precisely?" she asked regardless. "If you detect something, I want to know."

"I'm taking your pulse," Alona said, not taking its eyes off her hands. "And measuring it against your body temperature. Should I go on?"

"Of course," Naima urged the android. "I want to know."

Alona allowed itself a small smile, lifting its eyes to meet her gaze for the first time since they'd left the workshop.

"Do you?" the android asked. "You told me once before Terrans didn't always prefer the truth."

Naima snorted.

"That is fair. But where my health is concerned, I really do."

"Very well," Alona said.

Naima caught the moment when the smile fell from the android's pale face.

Before it could explain anything, Braen stepped into the small hall. The newly forged blade was strapped to his back. Naima could make out the glow of the lifestone under the lights of his valor squares. They were dark now, resembling the shadows the general cast when he was furious, but the look on his face was anything but mad.

He’d left his posse to discuss the weapon amongst themselves. Braen came closer, observing them with silent curiosity.

"What is going on here?" he demanded then. "Is there something wrong with my gesha?"#p#分页标题#e#

Alona didn't answer at once. That was all the confirmation Naima needed, in a way. She sighed deeply, pulling her hands from the android's grip. Alona rose, taking a step back from Braen.

"I was asking Miss Jones if she wanted to hear my opinion, General. I would ask you the same."

"By the tone of your voice, I assume it's not something I want to hear," Braen replied, his deep voice resembling the growling way he'd spoken to the android during their first meeting.