Read Online Women of War by Alexander Potter - Free Book Online Page B

room large enough to hold everyone, the dining hall. Not by accident, it was the only portion of the outpost to benefit from the Kraal aesthetic—at least to the extent that the wall without kitchen equipment was crusted with gilded metal plaques commemorating the achievements of House Bryll in battle. A small and central spot was reserved for accomplishments from this obscure little outpost. The Kraal were also afflicted with Human optimism.
    In Skalet’s judgment, the expected future of the place was more accurately seen in the lack of ornamentation anywhere else. The poorest Kraal House indulged in ostentatious display everywhere possible; even warships boasted wood carving and lush upholstery. Here was ice, frost-covered metal, and bags of supplies.
    Reluctantly accepting her tiny glass of serpitay, the ceremonial drink no Kraal gathering of import could start without, Skalet eased behind others. She couldn’t disappear from view completely; her Humanself was taller than most of the Kraal assigned here. Every set of shoulders was braced, as if ready for anything.
    A querulous voice demanded, “This is all?”
    â€œThe full complement, Your Eminence.” The outpost’s commander, Dal-ru, touched the backs of his hands to his tattooed cheeks and bowed, a gesture echoed by everyone in the room. “We await your pleasure.”
    The pleasure they awaited belonged to the oldest Kraal Skalet had ever seen. Ersh-memory held older, but not by much. In a culture like the Kraal’s, such age meant extraordinary value to a House, toughness, or, most likely, both. The female’s maze of tattoos warred with wrinkles; her face might have been heartwood, ringed by the passing of countless seasons, a record of survival and success, for they were the same among Kraal.
    Impressive.
    â€œWhat’s the status of the fleet?”
    â€œFleet, Your Eminence?” Skalet was amused by the immediate tensing by everyone in the room. She knew, as well as they there’d been nothing on their scans for months. Which made the obedient Kraal likely to offend this noble no matter what. Dal-ru took the braver course. “We haven’t detected any ship movements.”
    Her Eminence had not come alone, although her entourage was peculiarly small for a noble away from flagship or homeworld. Undoubtably, Skalet thought, others waited outside the domes, perhaps within the connecting tunnels. A courier, for such the noble must be, traveled with sufficient force to affect the actions desired by her House. Here and now, she was flanked by only two black-garbed guards, taller than Skalet, more muscular than the most fit crew of the outpost, girded with every weapon possible, including several that would be fatal to all if used in this room. Now one stooped to whisper something urgent in the courier’s ear. She shooed him away impatiently. “Then that’s the status, isn’t it?” she snapped. “I trust you have eyes on all scans for when that changes?”
    Seven Kraal bowed hurriedly and dashed from the room. Two had been in front of Skalet. Thus exposed, she found herself caught by the curious regard of the old noblewoman’s milky eyes. “Who are you?”
    Skalet’s bow was impeccable, the brush of knuckles to fake tattoo exquisite. Inwardly, she trembled. “S’kal-ru, Your Eminence. Tech Class—”
    â€œAh. The Dauntless Icicle. Attend me.” The noblewoman rose to her feet without assistance, a smooth efficient motion that lifted Skalet’s eyebrow in involuntary appreciation. Admirable.
    Â 
    I knew Ersh filtered my Web-kin’s reactions to their own experiences before sharing them with me, probably viewing most as nonessential to my learning. Oh, I assimilated physical sensations, such as taste, and useful emotions such as fear, but, to this point in my life, the latter came to me so dimmed the memories could have belonged to any of us. This