Schism: Part One of Triad by Catherine Asaro Page A

is.”
    “We have time. She hasn’t applied anywhere yet.” He moved his hands up Roca’s back, a smile coming to his face. “It occurs to me that we might occupy ourselves with other concerns tonight.”
    Roca laughed. “What, you want more children? Ten isn’t enough?”
    ‘Twelve.” In octal, of course. Eldrinson drew her into an embrace. “I can’t help myself, with such a beautiful wife.”
    “Flatterer.”
    He hefted her up in his arms, with one arm under her knees and the other around her back. Then he grunted. “Wife, you are not the lightest person in the world.” She was beautiful, yes, curved and statuesque, but she was no slip of a girl.
    “I could walk.” She sounded miffed.
    Eldrinson pressed his lips against her cheek. Then he carried her over to the bed on the other side of the room. With a grin, he dropped her onto the quilt, making all the pillows bounce. “See?” He folded his arms, doing it the way he knew made his muscles flex. “I am not so old that I can’t carry my wife.”
    Roca laughed, pulling her hair out of her eyes. “Come here.” She grabbed his hand and yanked. He sprawled next to her on the bed, laughing, his hair flying. Then he pulled her into his arms, savoring her body against his. Even after three octets of years he loved to touch her, perhaps even more now than when they had first met. They nestled together in the quilts, kissing, her mouth soft against his, her lips parting for him.
    Sometime later, after the oil lamps had burned down, he and Roca drowsed in the blue moonlight. Their clothes lay somewhere on the floor. Contentment filled him. Today had been good. His children often bewildered him, especially Althor and Soz, but he loved them all, those lights Roca had given him. He wished they would stay near home, as Vyrl had done. But Roca was right. When the time came, he had to let them go. That included Soz. But not offworld.
    Kurj
     
    would destroy her. Imperator. Eldrinson could never leave his daughter in a universe overseen by a man who had murdered his grandfather and hated his mother’s husband. It was bad enough Althor chose ISC. He couldn’t let it happen to Soz.
    Eldrinson had a plan. He would spend this coming year getting Soz accustomed to the idea of marriage with Lord Rillia. This daughter of his was formidable, yes; as Rillia’s wife, she would be well suited to help the Rillian Bard lead the people of Rillia and Dalvador.
    He just needed time to make her agree.
     
    The Decision
    oz paced Althor’s room. “I don’t know how to tell him. He will explode through the roof.”
    Althor was stuffing clothes into his duffel. “Just don’t lose your temper.”
    Soz stopped and glared at him. “I never lose my temper.”
    Althor laughed. “Right Never.” Sunlight slanted through the window and made his gold skin shimmer. He was perfect in every way, physically, mentally, intellectually.
    “Don’t you ever get tired of being a hero?” Soz grumbled.
    “What hero? Why does everyone say that?” He lifted his hands, then dropped mem. “I’ve never done a damn thing except pass my exams at the academy. Real heroic.”
    “It’s the principle of the thing. You look and act the part so well.” She resumed pacing. “Father will never accept my going to DMA. He wants me to marry Lord Rillia and have lots of yelling, crapping babies.”
    Althor went back to packing. “Gods help Lord Rillia.”
    Soz glowered at him. “Why does everyone say, ‘Gods help Lord Rillia’ when the topic of our purportedly incipient nuptials comes up? Why doesn’t anyone say, ‘Gods help Soz’?”
    Althor laughed good-naturedly. “Purportedly incipient nuptials? Soz, no one talks that way.”
    “I do. And you’re changing me subject.”
    “All right.” He crossed to die window and motioned at me view. “See that?”
    She went to peer out. The plains outside rippled in swells, as on an ocean.
    “What about it?”
    “You’re the wind, Soz. Or a storm. You