March To The Sea

"Hey, you gotta catch me first," Roger told her with a wink as the Councilman and the K'Vaernian Guard's second in command came to their feet. "And kicking off those heels will give me at least a second's head start."

* * *

"Prince Roger Ramius Sergei Alexander Chiang MacClintock," Wes Til said, giving a shallow bow, "I believe that you've already met Tor Flain. May I introduce my life-mate, Teel Sla'at?" The woman beside him bowed at the waist and gave a gesture of greeting. She wore something Roger had never seen before, a magnificently worked harness of gold and lapis lazuli, and he returned her bow gracefully.

"Teel Sla'at, I greet you. And you as well, Wes Til. Well met."

"And may I introduce my life-mate, See Tra'an?" Tor Flain added. The guardsman had doffed his armor and instead was heavily bejeweled, with at least five necklaces, and bracelets on all four arms. His lady was even more heavily jeweled, with enough assorted metals and gems to be considered half armored. About half the total outfit consisted of a single sort of pearly gemstones, most of them greenish in cast and skillfully set in a pattern which emphasized the subtle gradations in their coloration. It made her look like some sort of Mardukan mermaid, and Roger wondered if the locals had that myth.

"I greet you, See Tra'an, Tor Flain," he said. The humans hadn't worked out the protocol for introductions at these di

"And may I introduce Sergeant Nimashet Despreaux," he went on, gesturing to the sergeant . . . who, to his amazement, dropped a very creditable curtsy.

There was a momentary awkward pause, and then Teel Sla'at made a hand gesture of humor.

"Could you, perhaps, enlighten us as to your relationship to the 'sergeant'?" she asked politely.

Roger's eyebrows rose in a combination of surprise and dismay. Surprise because, despite the conversations that had gone on in the other rooms, he'd somehow assumed that the women would be along as a sort of window dressing. Dismay because he now had to explain his relationship to Despreaux, and even he wasn't sure what it was.

"Prince Roger and I are trying to determine if we're compatible to mate," Despreaux answered while he was still grappling with the question.

"And you have a choice?" Til asked. His tone indicated interest rather than distaste or shock, and Despreaux smiled as Roger chuckled ruefully.

"Oh, yeah, we sure do," the prince answered.

"Please, be seated," Til invited.

" 'Compatible to mate,' " See Tra'an repeated. "I understand that you humans are capable of mating at any time. Is that true?"

"Yes," Roger said uncomfortably, as he and Despreaux stretched out on the pillows scattered around the low tables. The escorting Marines took positions around the room, and Cord dropped into a lotus position behind Roger. "We can."

"Pseudo-mating is a form of social interaction and even recreation among us," Despreaux added. "On the other hand, it's a taboo subject in several of our subcultures."

"Is that a hint to drop the subject?" Teel Sla'at asked. The Councilor's mate slid a platter of thin, cooked slices of something in front of Despreaux and followed the motion by popping a slice from a similar platter into Wes Til's mouth.

The sergeant looked at the platter in front of her, then picked up one of the slices and ostentatiously ate it herself.

"Not at all. Neither Roger nor I are from one of those subcultures." She paused and picked up another slice. "This is good."

"Calan," Tor Flain said. "A shell-covered species that lives on the rocks. Preparation is laborious, but the result is excellent. How does one tell the difference between human males and females? You and R—the Prince are almost the same size."

Roger smiled as Despreaux fell momentarily silent. He picked up one of the slices and offered to feed it to her, and his smile became a grin despite himself as she glared silently at him.

"The easiest way to tell is to look for protuberances on the chest," he told the K'Vaernian guardsman. "There are other clues, but they're difficult to explain."

"Protuberances?" Flain repeated. "What are they? Or is that a taboo subject, as well?"

It was Despreaux's turn to laugh at the prince as his face flushed, and she kept her mouth shut, waiting to see how he would answer.

"It's a taboo to some people, but not to me," the prince said determinedly. "They are . . . similar in purpose to the heavier secretions on the backs of your females. They secrete a thin substance that's consumed for sustenance by human young."

"May we see them?" See Tra'an asked.

Roger rolled his eyes, and Despreaux smiled sweetly at him.

"Certainly," she said, and undid the ties at her shoulders.

"Hmmm." Til leaned forward and prodded the exposed breasts gently with his finger. "And you say these are used to produce food for your young? Is that their only purpose?"

"That and turning men into babies," Despreaux said with a silvery laugh as she did the ties back up, and Tor Flain looked at the prince.

"Your face has changed colors. Does that mean you and Sergeant Despreaux are going to mate?"

"No!" Roger said as Despreaux started laughing uncontrollably. "Oh, shut up, Nimashet."

"Is that a command, Your Highness?" the sergeant asked with a throaty chuckle.

"No, just a desperate attempt to steer the conversation onto less sensitive ground, I suspect," the councilor observed. "Unless I miss my guess, it seems that we've offended our guests."

"Only the more important one," Flain said. "Quick work. This is why I think inviting women to sensitive negotiations is insanity."

"Ah, my fine D'Sley import!" his mate said with a grunt of laughter. "You are so up-to-date."

"Well, it's true. You women are just too flighty."

"I wouldn't advise telling that to Eleanora," Roger said, taking another bite of the calan.

"She's your, what is the term, 'chief of staff'?" Til asked.

"Yes. She's my senior political adviser, as opposed to Captain Pahner, who's my senior military adviser."

"And a woman?" Flain asked.

"A woman," Roger agreed. "She's meeting with Lord Sam Tre and Madame Fullea Li'it this evening. And the person who's 'escorting' her isn't a senior adviser."

"So she'll be the one carrying the weight of the discussion?" Til asked.

"And any actual negotiations, political or financial, that might come up," Roger agreed, and didn't notice the looks that passed between the K'Vaernians at the word "negotiations" as he offered another bite to Despreaux. She accepted unthinkingly, and then they both froze as she nipped the slice off just short of his fingers.

"Ah, look," Tor Flain said. "He's turning red again. I say they're going to mate."

"I hope they can wait until after di

Roger cleared his throat.

"We are not going to mate."

"Certainly not here, that is," Despreaux corrected.

"This is an interesting restaurant," Roger said, managing not to sound—quite—desperate as he changed subjects.

"One of my family's," Flain said, accepting the change. "Most of the employees are cousins."

"It's not much to look at on the outside," Despreaux said. "I take it that was deliberate?"

"Part of its charm," Teel Sla'at agreed. "If you don't know about it, you don't come here."