Madrudsa: Lesson

By Crisjen Opperman

Madrudsa is the third book in the Guimenhi series,
It takes Moriah after the bonding ceremonies and
carries her through her experiences in the
Dracur court.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 28, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465341037

Crisjen Opperman

My favorite two questions are “Why?” and “Why not?”. Where would we be today without them? Crisjen Opperman resides in Richardson,Texas with her spouse and his dog. She began writing at the age of ten when she needed something to read, but had already used her allotted amount of check-outs at the school library. She believes life is an adventure that can not be truly lived if you spend it sitting down.

Book preview

Copyright © 2011 by Crisjen Opperman.

First Paperback Edition

Third Book to Guimenhi

ISBN:      Ebook        978-1-4653-4103-7

All rights reserved. No part of the text or the illustrations may be reproduced in any form, or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the expressed permission in contract writing from the author.

This book is a work of Fiction. All Characters, all names, most places, and all incidents are imaginative only and used in a purely fictitious manner.

1. Science Fiction/Fantasy-adult 2. American [1. Science Fiction, American 2. Romance, American 3. Fantasy, American. 4. Science Fiction, Madrudsa—Lesson]

This book was created in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

103027

Madrudsa

Sick am I of being as a ladita

my brain is a wire fired

Too old am I to learn

and too tired.

aHalt, stop

I want this not!

aHalt, stop

It tears with claws

dipped in fear

blood red and metallic

mine, mine.

Would that I had learned

the first time.

Madrudsa

moriah simone zorchov dracur

Contents

To The Reader

Saga of the Ancients

One

TRIO

Two

FAMLIA

Three

MORIAH and ABRONIA and MELODY

Four

MORIAH and ABRONIA

Five

MORIAH and ABRONIA

Six

TRAGON and BRON

Seven

BRON and GOVERNOR IREA

Eight

MORIAH and OUTLANDER MARC

Nine

TRAGON and BRON

Ten

MORIAH

Eleven

TRIO

Twelve

MORIAH and MELODY

Thirteen

TRIO and TULANE

Fourteen

PLANS

Fifteen

TRIO and OUTLANDER MARC

Sixteen

MORIAH and TRAGON

Seventeen

EXPLANATIONS

Eighteen

TRIO and GREENWICH

Nineteen

TRIO and DESERT LAND

Twenty

GOVENOR and GOVERNESS FADEL

Twenty-One

ABRONIA and TULANE

Twenty-Two

MORIAH, TRAGON and GOVERNOR FADEL

Twenty-Three

MORIAH and RAMSID

Twenty-Four

GOVERNOR IREA

Twenty-Five

GREENWICH

Twenty-Six

TRAGON, BRON and ROLANE

Twenty-Seven

MERCHANT SHIP

Twenty-Eight

GREENWICH

Twenty-Nine

TRIO

Thirty

MORIAH and BRON

Thirty-One

TRIO

Thirty-Two

FAMLIA

Thirty-Three

TRAGON and MORIAH

Thirty-Four

HIGH COUNCIL

Thirty-Five

TRIO

Thirty-Six

BRON and MORIAH

Thirty-Seven

MORIAH and TRAGON

Thirty-Eight

MORIAH and BAREAN ILLEA

Thirty-Nine

TRAGON, MORIAH and ABRONIA

Forty

TRIO

Forty-One

MORIAH

Forty-Two

MORIAH

To the Reader

Glossary

To The Reader

It’s late again, probably about midnight. Mandy’s asleep, and I’m sitting in the den at my desk. I’m tired, restless, and going on a second night of insomnia. Earlier today, I read the third journal that the alien girl, Lalia, had brought. It started me thinking, hence the inability to sleep. So now, I’m sitting in front of a blank computer screen, the blue background mocking my restlessness.

A last stub of my cigarette in the overly full ashtray, and finally, I decided what to write. I opened the original journal I had received and set it under the desk lamp and proceeded to copy the information onto the computer. I copied the words just as they were written, mistakes and everything. I suppose I could have changed it a little, made corrections and whatnots, but I didn’t. Any story worth being told needs to be in the words of its owner. Proper English teachers and professors cringe when they hear such thoughts spoken aloud, but it’s true.

The passenger doesn’t stand behind the captain of the airplane and tell him he needs to change what he’s doing in mid-flight, nor do you tell a storyteller that they’re telling the story wrong. It’s their story, leave it be.

As I type, I wonder what I would have done in similar circumstances. I can’t deal with the case of hallucination viratisis I’ve had for the past week, how would I have possibly dealt with a whole month of nightmares, then finding out it was all way too real? On said thought, I reached out and rubbed my hand over the pages and felt the texture of the paper and the rises where the ink settled into words. Yep, it’s real alright!

I shook my head and continued typing. Three hours later, the screen blurred; and finally, my body whined with aches and pains, it’s usual way of informing me it was too worn out to stay up any longer. I set everything to save and shut it down. Reaching across the desk, I shook out a last cigarette and popped it into my mouth. A quick flick and a long, slow draw. Sometimes, just the motions of smoking are relaxing. I tossed the lighter onto the desk and turned out the lamp.

Instead of returning to the boudoir and waking Mandy, I stretched out on the sofa and laid in the dark. As I took a long draw on the cigarette, the tip glows bright red, and in the faint light, I watch as the thin ribbon of smoke swirls upwards.

It dawned on me as I lay there that Mandy never told me what she thought of the journal. Hmm, most unusual for her. She has an irritatingly bad habit of dissecting everything she reads. She should have been an English teacher, but I’m totally thankful she’s not! As a writer, my ego would suffer a severe blow, and the joy I get out such wonderfully useless remissions would disappear. Yet, it bothered me for some reason that she hadn’t told me she’d finished the book. I started to sit up, then laid back down. I’ll catch her tomorrow.

A last puff and I smashed the butt into the ashtray on the coffee table and rolled over.

Samuel. The word filtered through my dreams on a warm whisper of breath.

Mmmm, I mumbled. She’s in my dreams too, I thought. A cool hand brushed my cheek and my mind flooded with red blood passion.

When I awoke in the morning, I was exhausted and totally worn out, as if I had spent the whole night exercising.

Ian. The word jabbed at my conscious like a sharp pin prick. Ian!

Startled, I jumped and rolled into a seated position. Uhh, what?!

Ian, it’s six thirty in the morning. You’re late for work. Mandy said with just a hint a one who is perturbed to her tone.

Groggy and bleary-eyed, I squinted at her. She was dressed in a nice flowery sleeveless dress.

Where’re you going? I asked as I rubbed my bloodshot eyes and blinked like a hoot owl.

To work. Where you should have been- she glanced down at her wrist, -two hours ago.

What?! I exclaimed. Wha . . . Oh shit, It’s Monday?! Throwing off the blanket, I stood up in a rush,and blindly grabbed the armrest of the sofa for support. The cool air from the air conditioning wafted about me, and instantly I was engulfed in a wave of goosebumps. I looked down. What the hell, I was naked! I could have swore I had clothes on when I went to sleep!

I glanced around, but Mandy had already walked away. A quick search, and I found my shorts on the back of the sofa. Quickly I put them on and followed her through the house.

If you hurry, she called from the kitchen, I’ll drop you off on my way to the office.

A five minute shower and change and I was ready. As we walked out the door, I looked back towards the den. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I had a bad feeling that something wasn’t right.

However, there wasn’t anything I could about it now, I’d deal with it when I got home tonight.

Saga of the Ancients

In the nebula of time

eons before the ladon

within the depths of the Sea of Eternal

a slender sliver of energy alone

rushed

flowing as molten silver.

Three soul

mortal of the guardian

brothers of eternal be

unable to complete the journey through time

nor feel sanctuary at the feet of the Guardians

were violently cast from dark purgatory into

the light.

So began the long journey.

Be their vialla

Ojoal, Grenwrin, and Jenhi.

Pale, naked and without the breath of life

journey’d far tho’

found nayvhila for their spirits to rest.

Beg’d for obs’lation,

to return

from whence forcibly birth’d suira they.

With a bolt of fiery ions

always the Guardians answer’d

with sadness and urgent hopefulness

always the Guardians answer’d

Nale.

So, from the great eternity

like roaring unnaturals,

cool vapors of moisture,

and the breath of moriah

they stole across the expanse

In search of new vialla.

Long the ladon roamed

Nhi loneliness nor darkness sway’d

Came they upon a desolate orb

where by impetus

the weakened energies wrought from the land

hydra, ayri, and solace

and settled they in world array.

Form’d from the land in cusp’s shadows

a peoples held in time

From one did the trio spread

to desert barren sui

to dewy hydra ayri

henceforth became three.

Long have the eons passed

since the guardian whispered their vialla

bu’ cerion, the brothers,

we speak

Come, hear our cry

ladon of the Guardians

mortal of the guardian

be we the

Ancients.

August-maybe . . . ". . . finally, I have paper and pen, or graphite I think it is. I’ve been here now way over a month, I mean think that the time period. Anyway, I tried to keep good mental notes, however it’s crazy here, I may get some things wrong. I’ve got to find a place to hide these too. I know I started writing a couple of times, but I’ve lost the papers somewhere.

. . . it’s a strange world here. First, as you may have guessed, everybody, and I mean everybody here is taller than me, even the teenagers . . . if you can call them that! . . . I do hope the fighting and craziness are over for a little while . . . I’d like to heal up alittle, and actually see something of the world besides the High Council and the Ta’healer.

Speaking of her, I’m still sick . . . don’t know what’s causing it because am scared to ask. What if I have a space bug or something?!!. what if I change into something weird!!!. . . . oh, . . . a word to the wise, movies lie, lie, lie! . . ."

One

TRIO

The infernally loud pounding outside the window brought Moriah out of her groggy sleepiness and smack straight into a grumpy mood. Squirming out from under the warm toasty covers, she sat up in the morning greyness and listened intently. They couldn’t possibly be tearing up her street this early in the morning. No self-respecting street worker starts jack-hammering before daylight. For crying out loud, it’s only . . . she turned and glanced at the alarm clock . . . damn it, I forgot I broke the last clock! Mental note to self, buy new clock on way to work this afternoon. She tipped her head to the right, and that’s when she realized the pounding was not external, but internal. It was in her head. The jackhammer was pounding a hole through her skull. Damn, it must have been some party! Man oh man, do I need an aspirin, she groaned and pressed a hand hard against the top of her head in an effort to control the throbbing. She sighed, she’d have to get up, the rest of her body was informing her of the uselessness of arguing with Mother Nature. If I can make it to the bathroom, I know there’s a brand new jar of Excedrin in the medicine cabinet. Squirming her way further out from under the warm covers, she shivered violently when the chilly air hit her pale skin and it puckered with goosebumps. She didn’t notice. She was lost in the blanket valleys of her own bed. In rising frustration that added even more aggravation to the throbbing between her eyes, she shoved against the wall of blankets that barred her way.

Suddenly, a heavy, warm, pale blue arm snaked out from under the blankets and wrapped around her waist like an iron band and pulled her back under the covers.

Hey, help!! She squealed in startled surprise as she was pressed securely against heated bare skin. Shocked into full wakefulness, she attacked the thing that held her. Finally, it loosened it’s hold, and in full panic mode, she scrambled out in a frantic bid for escape. She kicked at the blankets to keep whatever it was from getting at her again. Her heart pounded in her throat and her jack-hammering in her head increased. What the hell?!

Peticha, a deep masculine voice chuckled.

Like a clap of thunder smacking the ground, everything sparked back into memory, and she froze in the act of attacking the quilt. With a heavy sigh of one giving into the inevitable, she fell backwards onto the bunched comforter near the foot of the bed and pressed a trembling hand across her eyes. Moriah laid there as her new reality sank in. She was not in her little apartment in Dallas, Texas. She was not even on Earth, for crying out loud!! With the bursting of her dream bubble came a slew of other little reminders of where she really was. Man, was she sore! Bron had lied when he said he wasn’t up to par. After niete past, all three of them should be sore, but she knew it would just be her. She rolled her head to the right, then the left. She was lying in the valley of blanket created by the two bodies on either side of her. With a quick rolling twist, she wiggled back into her spot and laid with her hand covering her eyes. Earth or not, she really, really needed an aspirin!

Despite the upheaval in the bed, Bron was still burrowed under the covers, his low snores muffled by the blanket. But, Tragon, his eyes still half closed from sleep, had been awakened by Moriah’s frantic gyrations, and lay watching her in the low morning light that filtered through the cracks in the drapes.

Do you never rest? He growled sleepily.

Despite the headache, the corner of her mouth lifted in a mischievous smile, and she rolled in his direction and whispered. Not usually, I’m always on the lookout for trouble.

His large hand reached out and tangled in her loose hair as he grasped her slender neck. His fingers tightened, and he pulled her onto to his chest as he rolled onto his back. No need to go searching for it, ai moi. You have all you can handle here.

Really, now. You think you’re that macho, huh? Moriah bantered back, squinting against the throbbing of her headache.

Sore sui you this morn, yea? You tell an untruth if you say nay. He whispered as he rubbed his hand over her naked buttocks.

Will you two stop speaking, some of us are still sleeping, a muffled, and very feminine voice complained.

Moriah’s body jerked as if she’d been poked with a hot stick. Who?! She whispered in surprise.

Abronia, Tragon mouthed, tightening his hold to prevent Moriah’s escape as he pulled her to his mouth and kissed her long and hard.

When they broke for air, she playfully slapped him on the shoulder then scrambled over him and off the bed. She shivered in the cool morn air and rubbed her arms to against a new wave of goosebumps. God, she had a seriously, bad headache!

Where are you going? Tragon leaned on an elbow and watched her.

Kalo, then I wish to eat. Go back to sleep if you want. She rubbed her left temple. It took more control than she cared to admit to hide just how sore she really was and to hobble across the room somewhat naturally. Before she made it halfway across the huge shadowy room, her stomach cramped and gave a violent heave and bile rushed up her throat. Barely holding back a groan, she swallowed hard and made a quick detour to the water jug sitting on the low garment cabinet.

"Peticha?"

Hurriedly, she guzzled down a vasa of water.

"What’s wrong?" The question filtered through her mind’s energies and she frowned. Great, now Bron was awake. She hadn’t intended to disturb him, for he out of all of them needed the rest. Mentally, she shrugged. Just a small headache. At least they all woke up at the same time. Good, she could go eat. Her stomach rolled. Maybe. She pressed a hand to her upset abdomen. It had to be the headache causing all the problem.

"You are distressed?" came the answer to her thought.

"Just sore, ai moi, she mentally returned. Go back to sleep." She gulped the last swallow of water and set the vasa on the decorative tray and continued on her way to the kalo.

Under the steady flow of the powerful, hot shower stream, she absentmindedly scrubbed her hair. It was a strange path that had brought her to the bed in which she now slept. If she had been asked a month ago where she thought her future would lead her, she would have answered to an office job, of course. Not that she liked confining spaces and the enforced structure such a job entitled, it just seemed to be the way her life had been headed. Besides, everybody had to have a steady place of employment. As much as she loved being an artist, it wasn’t really meeting the bills so to speak. But never, never, in her wildest dreams would she have answered, I’m going into outer space and hitch myself to the first available alien I meet. No wait, I’m up for a thrill, make that the first two aliens I meet. Yep, that’s my future plans! Maybe I should write a thank you note to Howard for taking me to the carnival for our date, she thought to herself. Now you’re being bitchy, she reprimanded herself. It’s this stupid headache!

She picked up a scented washing brick and quickly sudsed herself. Gently sudsing over the sore, bruised areas and bite marks, she carefully scrubbed every inch of her torso, face and arms. And that was the second thing. Lovemaking was rough here with these aliens. Well, not so much with Tragon. He was gentle and affectionately caring with his touch but very thorough. She smiled in remembrance. But Bron on the other hand, umm, umm, umm, acted like he was going to war every time they mated. If she didn’t know better, she was being raped and pillaged every time. Lifting an arm, she studied the fading bruise. Though she did have to agree with Bron, the alien lados did last a bit longer than their earthly counterparts. Her self-satisfied smile turned into a girly giggle, and then broke into a fit of full out laughter.

Lifting her left leg, she balanced precariously on her bad leg. Starting from just below the knee, it was sealed in a greenish colored, healing gel pack. She was going on her third or fourth day of wearing it. Quickly, Moriah scrubbed her good foot. She didn’t know how long the healing leg would hold her weight. As she set her left foot down and straightened, a shiver flash of heat rippled through her body. Her skin flushed with the fever and sweat poured from her pores. Her throat tightened, locking her jaw, as she fought the swell of nausea. And it came. Her stomach cramped and heaved, and she vomited. It rose up so fast, she was barely able to throw out an arm to catch herself before she fell into the water puddled on the floor. The cramping went on for several moments and she cried out in a whimper. She huddled awkwardly, her body curled protectively into the fetal position, her knees drawn up to her chest. The shower water rained down on her and washed her tears and the bile down the drain.

Bron and Tragon rushed the kalo before the first whimper had died away. Tragon, a step faster, entered the shower, picked the trembling ladia up out of the draining filth and set her on the kalo’s dry rug outside the shower. The sonic water shut off automatically. Tragon slapped his hand against the wall and dry air blasted down upon the shivering, whimpering ladia.

Use this, Bron bent and helped Tragon wrap her in a blanket for quicker drying. She needs to be dried immediately.

Nooo . . ., Moriah moaned and pushed against their hands. Leave . . . leave . . . me alone, . . . I . . . I’ll be alright.

Still, peticha. It is cool and you are wet. Bron commanded sternly, as he vigorously rubbed her dry. When he finished with the drying, Tragon carried her back to the bed and placed her under the covers. You are feverish. Bron said, touching his hand to her cheeks.

Stop! She struggled out from under their man-handling ministrations. Okay, okay, guys. Stop! she finally shouted at them. In shocked startlement, they halted in mid-action and stared at her in surprise. With a trembling hand, she pushed her wet matted hair back from her face and glared. I’m okay! I was just feeling a little under the weather. I’m fine now.

You speak an untruth.

Stop reading my mind, Bron! She complained in frustration. I was feeling bad, but I’ll be alright in a muin or two. Just move away so I can breathe. She scooted towards the center of the bed and pulled the covers to her chin.

Her bondmates stood uncertainly beside the bed and watched her. Though she felt weak and shaky, her glare served to get her point across to them.

Very well, peticha, Bron acquiesced. He turned away to gather his own clean garments and headed for the kalo. Since we are all awake now, we’ll go eat.

Moriah deflated like she had just won a major battle but hadn’t liked the outcome. With a heavy sigh, she fell back against the pillows and stared up at the sheer canopy. It was not their fault and not fair to yell at them, she supposed, they were only trying to be helpful. As much as she hated to admit it, Bron was right, she was not feeling well. She still had the pounding headache and trembling in her chest, and her abdomen hurt from the cramping. To top it off, her brain was now mush. And the thought of breakfast, which had been totally enticing earlier, now just made her want to puke again. She swallowed hard in an attempt to clear away the lump that had formed in her throat. She was not going to cry and add to her list of misery. She closed her blue eyes and slowly counted to ten. She was not going to be sick this dia or anymore if she could help it!

Beside her, the bed suddenly shifted, and she jerked her head around thinking it was one of her mates.

Abronia! Oh my god! She sputtered as her face flushed with warmth. Tragon’s brown haired sister sat perched half on half off the bed. I forgot you were still here!

In a low, quiet voice filled with concern, Abronia asked, Salua moi, Ladia Moriah. You wish I bring the Ta’healer to you?

Moriah shook her head. Nay, I’ll be fine in a few muin. Her immediate problems evaporated in the face of her concern for her mate’s sister. She rolled towards the ladia, and asked, Are you okay?

Abronia looked down, then up. It’s not the same here. She tapped her temple. I woke up this morn and she didn’t answer me. It is so strange to be alone, my mind’s energies are so empty. Is it this way on your world? Is this how you feel all the time?

Scooting into a seated position, Moriah tucked the sheeting cover around her body and crawled to Abronia. Gently, she patted the younger ladia’s hand where it rested on the bed. Nay, we all are alone in our thoughts on Earth/Hydra. We receive emotional comfort by physical contact, like this, when I pat your hand; but, we also try to support each other whenever possible for we are a social people. In times of death, or tragedy many of us stay with friends and family. Most of us do not grieve alone, until we must. She squeezed Abronia’s hand. I’m glad you came niete past.

But I should not have. Her face darkened.

It was and still is okay, Abronia. I know I’m not of this world, but we are the same when we need to grieve.

Ladia Abronia. Both ladias glanced up. T’anna, Abronia’s chaperone, known as Watcher, stood beside the bed. We must return to our rooms before the castle awakens.

Aye, T’anna. Abronia quickly stood and accepted her long robe from the Watcher, who helped her slip into it. You will come to morn partake? She asked as she tightened the belting.

Yea. I’ll be there. Moriah agreed.

The two ladias hurried from the room, leaving Moriah alone. On a long drawn sigh, she swung her feet over the bed’s edge and let them dangle. Better get up and get dressed, she chided herself, or they’ll be back to haul you to Ta’healer Chen. With said thought, she slid off the huge bed and wandered about gathering up the laid out garments and quickly dressed.

The lados returned from the outer room to find Moriah struggling to comb out the tangles in her long hair. Seeing the problem, Bron took the comb from her and corrected the mess she’d made, then finishing by plaiting a neat braid down her back. He gave her a once over. Satisfied that she was properly groomed, he escorted her from the room and they left the suite apartment in search of morn partake.

As they walked the corridors of the Aeshon Wing of the castle, Tragon mulled over the problem of Moriah’s sudden illness. He knew her well enough now to pick up the nuances of when she was hiding something. He glanced over the ladia’s head at his brother/friend. Judging by Bron’s thoughtful expression, he knew him to be unsatisfied as well with Moriah’s explanation. With a shrug of his shoulders to adjust his tunic, Tragon decided to speak with the Healer despite what Moriah had said.

Two

FAMLIA

The buffet was laid with juices, breads, lacadin, and cut fruit, the usual morn foods Moriah was beginning to realize. There was no variety, and no sweets. Moriah sighed, and gave a small internal laugh. It was going to be a morn filled with sighs. She wondered if these alien people had an equivalent response to the sigh. Probably not, as her bondmates never sighed, at