Lana opened her eyes, to see the strong Dellune sun beaming in through her window. She sat up and immediately regretted it, feeling her head throb as if a tiny battlecruiser were bombarding her from the inside. Some warrior I am, she thought. Lana clamped down her mental shield, which helped a little. She needed some liquid in her..
With a flash, her memory returned. The drinking, the wonderful meal, being carried by powerful arms. Lana gasped. "Oh dear!" Panicking, she reached down under the covers, and then she relaxed. Her clothing was in order, unmolested. Warrick had been a gentleman. She smiled, thinking of the powerful but kind warrior, probably having a laugh right now at her poor drinking ability.
She rotated in the large soft bed and put her feet on the floor. Someone had left a warm pair of furry moccasins by her bed, and then her eyes beamed as she saw the plate of food by her bed table. A magnificently colorful array of freshly cut fruit. What had they called it? Somarian fruit? There was also a tasty strip of meat, and fresh warm bread. She lifted the cup and took a sip, to find a familiar taste. It must have been the fruit in juice form. Lana realized she was starving - using telepathy always made her ravenous. Pulling her hair back over her shoulders and tying it with her hair band, she lifted the plate onto the bed and dug in. The Somarian fruit was addictive, she thought, she couldn't get enough. Halfway through her meal she decided to check if the wedges of Somarian fruit were having an effect on her abilities. Lana opened her mental shield, and nearly cried out at the flood of strong visions that rushed into her mind. She sensed a guard outside her door, sleepy and bored. Further out she sensed the meek minds of a couple of servants, and further still . . . Max Veers and Lamare were speaking with someone . . . who returned no mental image. That must have been Warrick.
Lana couldn't believe what was happening. The Dellune men had said the fruit provided visions to their oracles, and it was doing the same for Lana. She wondered if it was again augmenting her other powers. She looked about the room for something heavy. The dresser was heavy oak, she doubted even Warrick could lift it easily. She reached out with her mind . . . and the dresser began to float upwards with little effort. Lana smiled in glee - such a heavy object normally required intense effort and concentration. This morning she could lift it easily, like lifting a stone from the garden.
Thinking of the stone garden brought back other memories . . . Warrick's skilled hands exploring her body. Lana gasped suddenly as she felt a burst of pleasure in her belly that made her clench her thighs reflexively. The dresser crashed to the floor. She stood suddenly, confused by the sudden flood of arousal seemingly from nowhere. Her back was sore, so she stretched luxuriously, her arms high above her head. Her hands drifted down to touch the back of her neck, in the position that Warrick had placed them the night before. Lana closed her eyes, imagining his hands trailing down again between her breasts.
"Mmm . . ." she murmured, the sensual memories igniting warmth in her belly. She let her hands drift down from her neck, down her chest, to trail over her breasts. "Oh," she exclaimed in surprise. Her nipples were erect, pressing against the white material of her top when her fingers touched them. She hadn't realized how aroused she was. Nor could she believe how sensitive her nipples were, as they swelled to her own touch.
With a rush of guilt, Lana snapped out of her fantasizing. Touching herself was strictly forbidden at the Institute, for it led to lascivious behavior. "Oh dear," she said out loud. "I need to meditate, I skipped it last night!" At the Institute, Lana did a lot of meditating, since she couldn't seem to stop fantasizing. Sitting on the bed, Lana put her heels together and pulled them toward her, resting her upturned palms on each knee. She closed her eyes and began her meditation exercises. After a moment, she realized she was having trouble concentrating, not least because of that strange warmth in her belly. Her mind flashed suddenly to Warrick's kiss the night before, and then her eyes popped open as she felt a twinge of fire between her thighs. Alarmed, she reached down, inserting a finger inside her panties. "Oh no!" she gasped, withdrawing her finger as if stung, then she looked about for a towel with which to wipe the dew from her finger.
Lana had never felt such powerful arousal from mere fantasizing, and she wondered if her mind was affecting her, amplified by the fruit. Then again she'd never had a real live barbarian warrior to fantasize about. The ones in books just didn't compare to the real thing, she found. Lana couldn't dare ask the Dellune men about the fruit. Instead, Lana clamped down her mental shield, hoping that might protect her. Confused, she decided to give up on meditating and went to take a bath.
An hour later, Lana was fresh from a warm bath, dressed in the outfit they had left for her. It was a lovely flowing pale blue dress that left bare her arms and the sides of her thighs. Like every Dellune dress she had seen, it clung to her curves, emphasizing rather than hiding them like most of her own wardrobe. At least it wasn't sheer, for they'd given her no bra to wear. Did the Dellune women even wear bras? She wasn't sure. Lana was surprised to find that she actually liked the way she looked in the dress, and she'd admired herself in the mirror for more than a few moments. Without air dryers for her hair, she spent a minute trying to arrange her damp hair. She needed Nika's expertise, her hair looked a mess. Afterwards, chastising herself for her vanity, she ran through her Arbiter concentration routines, to clear her mind. She had a big day ahead of her.
Sometime later, she received a knock on her chamber door. It was Warrick, dressed in some sort of official warrior's uniform. She smiled shyly as his eyes widened, taking in the sight of her pretty dress.
"Why, Lady Torina, you look absolutely stunning," he said, with what she took to be sincere admiration. "I look forward to the envious stares!"
Lana giggled, then stopped herself. Arbiters don't giggle! she told herself.
"You are too kind," she replied seriously, trying to summon her best negotiating voice. "You look very handsome yourself." Then she grinned, her good spirits overwhelming her composure. "And thank you for taking care of me, and being a gentleman last night."
Warrick raised an eyebrow. "Who says I was a gentleman?" he replied. Then when he saw her gaping at him, he grinned and winked at her. "I admit some intriguing thoughts did cross my mind." Then he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "But I'd prefer to take advantage of you when you are clear headed."
Lana felt her cheeks redden, as they often did around this man. She wanted to punch him again, but her hand was still sore from the last time. And this time, she felt a slight heated sensation deep in her center, just like in the morning before her bath. She looked at the warrior gazing down at her, grateful he was not the Telepath.
"Well now, let's go put your skills to the test, shall we?" replied Warrick, offering his elbow for her to do . . . she didn't know. Warrick sighed, and reached out to put her hand through the crook of his elbow. Lana chuckled, for she felt a bit like a child holding onto an adult, as they walked through the halls.
Eventually they came across Max Veers. Lamare was speaking to him. "Ambassador, I'm afraid that my lord has been detained a bit longer than expected, so we will have a short wait." He turned and moved until he was standing in front of Lana. "Miss Torina, my lord would like to meet before you start your journey, so we have some time to occupy? Would you like Warrick to give you a personal tour?"
Lana replied, "Yes, I'd love a tour." She tried to hide her eagerness, but her fascination with primitive warrior societies overcame her agent training. "I must admit, I have a fascination with primitive cultures." Lana paled. Had she just said that?
Warrick laughed, the deep resonating sound reminding her of some wild animal she'd seen in hologram. "Is that so? Excellent, I hope you find our culture as primitive as you'd hoped."
She felt her cheeks redden. "Oh, I . . . I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean . . ."
"No offense taken, milady," comforted Warrick with a grin. "Come, follow me, and I will show you how we barbarians live." His booming laughter echoed in the hall as a chastised Lana walked quickly to keep up. Max hustled along her side, giving her a disapproving look. Lana grimaced, reminding herself to watch her tongue around these people. Quickly she forgot about her tongue, as her jaw dropped at the splendor of Lord Khan's palace. Lana found herself gazing upward at the ceilings that stretch impossibly high. Hand-woven tapestries adorned the walls, and a painted mural stretched across the vast ceiling of the next hall, depicting a glorious battle, with men on magnificent four-legged armor-covered beasts doing battle.
Truly a warrior culture, she thought. It was no surprise then that their first stop turned out to be a training hall of some sort, with wooden and steel weapons lining the walls, and the floors covered in what looked like smooth straw mats. Lana quickly realized why they were here.
"I've an idea," announced Warrick, as if it had just come to him. "How about a demonstration from your young swords . . . woman? I am most anxious to see how an Arbiter performs in battle!"
Lana felt her stomach drop. He couldn't be serious, she was their guest, and a diplomat. Calm, I must be calm! she thought. Max seemed surprised as well. "Ah, Master Warrick, I don't think . . . ."
"Nonsense!" boomed the warrior, his hand on the hilt of his massive sword making both of his guests a bit nervous. "I insist, I would see how your Arbiter handles herself against one of our primitive Dellune warriors."
Lana was outwardly the picture of calm despite her insides turning over. She turned to Max, and she could see immediately that he had caved.
"Uhh, Lady Torina . . . would, err, would you mind putting on a short demonstration for our hosts?"
Lana frowned. "Max, my presence here should be as secret as possible. Nikos could have spies here!" she whispered. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to be drawing attention to myself."
