Captive Discipline Read online

  Although he was near enough to touch her, he didn't even glance her way. "I offer to marry Janys Livingston."

  For a moment Janys couldn't tell what was louder—the roar in the room or in her head. Marry her? This man couldn't want to marry her. They'd only known each other for a little over a decedon—twelve Demetian days in all. Why, they'd barely clasped hands in greeting. There was no way he could want her as a wife, or she him for a husband.

  Tadewidan for once seemed nonplussed. "Martel, you wish to join yourself to an offworlder?" he asked doubtfully.

  "Yes," Martel replied firmly. "I will see that she learns our ways and receives proper correction for her actions, including those that concern the council today."

  My God, she thought, he's telling them he's going to punish me. Her mind flashed with a vision of Mistress Plettigan being strapped by her husband… Now was the time for her to tell them all that this idea was completely crazy. She started to speak, but someone grabbed her arm, spinning her partially around. "Think." Shalimerie mouthed at her.

  Janys closed her eyes. As she had many times since the night before, she wondered how any of this could be real. After all, yesterday morning everything had made sense. She was Janys Livingston, one of the few people in the galaxy who had actually grown up on Earth. For three years she'd worked at the Institute under the Prof, doing research assignments that had already led to three publications in the leading sociology journals. Her only purpose on Demeter was to study a settlement that had successfully escaped from technology by migrating to a vacant world. How could anyone expect her to give up life at the Institute to live with this stranger on a back planet that believed in straps and whips but not data implants?

  Yet the Prof was breaking into her thoughts. "The operative word, Janys, is 'live'. This offer isn't coming in a vacuum. Your choice is to stay safe until we have the chance to rescue you, or to die in Kollent. For once stop being stubborn. Listen to someone and do the best thing for yourself…"

  But I can't, she cried silently. I can't do it Prof, especially because of you. How can I marry someone when I still—"

  Tadewidan broke into her reverie. "We appreciate what you are trying to do, Martel. But there are two concerns. First, we know that marriages are difficult under any circumstances, and more so when people of two cultures come together. While I do not wish to embarrass Mistress Shalimerie or Master Kronitin, I am sure your brother has told you of the problems he has faced as a Wyteen joining with a Lycarta woman, even though both communities raise their children in much the same way. Do you think you can handle a wife whose understanding of our ways is at best academic, and who may be able to fit the demands of her role?"

  "Yes, I can," he said firmly. This time he looked at Janys squarely on, though the small smile on his face looked forced… "I believe that under my guidance, she will make an excellent wife, and become a law abiding member of Wyteen."

  Even Janys couldn't doubt his sincerity. Yet underneath his formal words, she could feel something seething. Anger? Sexual attraction? The desire for a challenge? Something strong enough to make this man cast away all his ideas on how he'd thought his family life would unfold in order to take her on.

  "Well said, Martel," Tadewidan responded. "But in a way, that brings us to our second concern. Although we did not explore the facts of the offenses today, we have heard you provided information that led to their occurrence. Is your reason for saving this woman unclouded by your own responsibility in placing her in this situation?"

  There was a long pause, and Janys wondered if Martel had been knocked off balance by the elder's question. But if his response was quieter than before, it was no less firm. "Last night I admitted my participation in this matter to my father," he told the council. "He carried out my wishes regarding punishment. The next time the men gather, I shall admit the same to them and offer my body for correction. My proposal today is not part of that penance."

  Tadewidan studied Martel as though trying to divine the reason for the man's extraordinary sacrifice. "I am satisfied that we understand the alternatives presented," the elder said at last. "The council must confer to make our decision. But before we do, I have one more question." He stared at Janys. "Are you willing to marry this man?"

  As her thoughts raced, she wondered if she could buy a little time. "Elder Tadewidan," she began carefully. "I didn't know Master Martel's intentions until this moment. While the council is conferring, I would like to speak with him and Mistress Shalimerie."

  "An excellent idea," Tadewidan responded drily. "There is a chamber down the hallway door that you may use for that purpose. Guards, please escort the lady and her companions there, but remain outside."

  Janys kept her eyes down as they once more began pushing through the horde of people. Just before they reached the doorway, they paused. Standing to one side was a tall woman with fading blonde hair pulled severely back by two combs. At her side was a young brunette whose steely blue eyes cut through Janys. The older woman took Martel's arm. "Are you certain you want to do this?"

  "Yes, Mother," he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "As I told you last night, I know you had something else in mind for my marriage, but this is my decision."

  "That it is," she sighed as the procession pulled ahead. "I just wish you would reconsider."

  Soon Martel, Shalimerie, and Janys were bundled into a small dark room with two chairs and a table. Shalimerie took one look around, then started backing out the door. "I really believe that the two of you should talk by yourselves."

  "Wait—" Janys began, but before she could say anything, the guards had shut the door, leaving her alone with Martel. She sunk down onto one of the chairs while he continued to stand. To her horror she realized that both his unnatural stiffness and avoidance of contact were probably the result of the punishment received from his father.

  "The council cannot force you to take my offer," he told her quietly. "What will you say if they offer you that choice?"

  "I don't know," she told him honestly. "Nor do I know why you made it. Not only am I an outsider whom you hardly know, but you probably feel I used you to locate the men's gathering. Why would you want to speak to, much less marry someone who got you into so much trouble?"

  "I let myself get into trouble," he said shortly. "I knew you were getting more information from me than I should be giving. But I wanted to continue talking with you. I enjoyed the time we spent together. And perhaps I see what you did a little differently than the others."

  She watched as he pushed the blonde hair back from his forehead. "You told me so much about your research on other worlds that I understand why you wanted to go to our gathering. How much it would mean to you to include in your project something that no offworlder had ever seen before."

  Now she felt worse than ever about getting him involved. "So you're not angry with me?"

  "Not in the way you mean." He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes not meeting hers. "But you do need to be punished, and if it comes to me to do so, the fact that I understand what you did will not lighten my hand."

  His hands. Janys went cold as she realized that he was talking about using them on her body in a way certain to be painful. She was barely able to concentrate as he continued. "However I do not believe that you deserve a death sentence for curiosity, or for over eagerness in doing your job. And I meant what I told the council. Although you do not know me or my people very well, I think there is a time when you will learn to—benefit—from this arrangement, and come to fully accept being a wife and citizen."

  She entwined her hands on the table to keep from tearing at the skin around her nails. There was a long silence. He was waiting for her to respond, but her mind was blank. How could she possibly decide between two horrendous futures?

  There was one question she hadn't asked… "You say you wanted to marry me, but Shalimerie has acted as though it were her idea. Did she talk you into it? And if so, why? I don't know her very well either, so I can't see why
she put herself at risk for punishment on behalf of a stranger."

  "Shalimerie has had a difficult time with her move from Lycarta. I know she empathizes with your predicament as well as being concerned for my involvement." Now he looked her full in the eyes. "The idea was mine before the words ever left her mouth. But from what I knew of you, I believed you would completely reject it, so I was unwilling to go forward. Shalimerie is the one who believed it might work, in much the way her marriage to my brother has defied the odds."

  There were so many other things important to ask, but she wasn't certain she could handle the answers. Did he expect her to sleep with him? Have children? She didn't get the feeling he was offering a marriage of convenience. In their brief time together, she admitted that she had found him attractive. However Prof had trained her well, and she knew to stifle any feelings that compromised objectivity towards her research subjects. Besides, for her passion was as much about intellectual compatibility as chemistry, and usually arose only when she had spent many hours talking with a man on the subjects she loved best.

  "Perhaps you should look at it this way," he said finally. "When someone is sent to Kollent, their marriage bonds are automatically dissolved. If life in Wyteen becomes unbearable, I will do nothing to prevent your going there."

  That's right, she could hear the Prof pounding away. Divorce. Going to Kollent is not the only way to end a marriage. Remember the ICJ also has authority to free you from this coerced arrangement if it finds in your favor.

  A guard opened the door. "The council has reassembled," he told them. "We will now return to the hearing room."

  This time she barely noticed the people clustered around as she followed along behind Martel. The coldness inside was numbing her, getting her ready for the painful announcement she must make.

  The group shuffled forward as Tadewidan resumed his place and turned his full gaze on Janys. "Marriage in Wyteen is taken very seriously. We are prepared to allow you to resolve your situation today by assuming its responsibilities, but only if you do so with your full heart. Knowing that, do you accept the proposal?"

  Marriage is a convenience, the Prof whispered in her mind. Say yes, and we can be together again. Refuse, and you will be dead before I can even get passage to Demeter.

  "I understand," she told the council, mentally crossing her fingers. "And I do."

  Chapter 2

  Tadewidan had to clap his hands to get the audience to quiet down. "We look forward to your becoming a member of our community," he announced. "But first there are a few more conditions we must impose on this unusual situation."

  He continued on immediately, as Janys wondered what had gone on during the council's deliberations. "The most important is that the council reserves its right to determine if you have actually accepted and fully become a part of our society. We know there will be a period of adjustment, and do not expect perfection. However if we should determine that your efforts are not sincere, or that you are incapable of fitting in, we will not hesitate to dissolve your marriage and send you to Kollent. Do you understand?" he asked sternly.

  "Yes," she replied quietly, glad that he couldn't read her mind.

  "We also will not tolerate your being a secret observer.," he warned her. "From now on, your sole role is to be a wife and a member of our community. After you have become accustomed to life here, you may seek an occupation. But you are no longer employed by your Institute, you will perform no services for it, and except for a letter of resignation, you will have no further communication with it or any of its personnel."

  Something in her started shouting that she would never see Prof again. "But—" she started.

  "We are not going to argue about it," he cut her off. "That is our condition, and you can either accept it or go to Kollent. And in keeping with our decision, all the materials we confiscated from your previous research will be destroyed."

  Not her research! Hot tears filled her eyes as thought of all the wasted work. Somehow she'd thought that no matter what happened to her, at least Prof would have the use of her notes. But looking at the implacable faces before her, she knew that none of what she had assembled would be allowed to leave Demeter.

  "All right," she said heavily. "But please, last night one of the things that was taken was my diary. That's just for my personal thoughts. It has—had—nothing to do with my work."

  "Electronic format?" Tadewidan asked disapprovingly.

  "No, actually it's paper." she told him quickly. "When I came here, the technology censor approved it. It's in a bunch of little blank books I got years ago that I've been filling up gradually." Thank God that all of the ones from before her trip to Demeter were safely locked in a storage container back at the Institute.

  The elder looked doubtful. "We do not think that this is a good idea."

  Martel jumped in. "It does not bother me that my wife-to-be wishes to keep a journal. Many people on Demeter write down their thoughts. The next few decadons are going to be difficult for her, and she may find it useful to express her feelings that way."

  "You are a thoughtful man yourself, Martel," Tadewidan noted. "This diary is not shared with anyone?"

  "Never," Janys said forcefully. "It's just for me."

  "Even I will never ask to read it," Martel told them.

  The council briefly huddled together. "We have changed our position. Because we no longer see any harm in the diary, it will be returned to you," the elder informed Janys.

  "Now our last condition. Under normal circumstances, Martel would be completely capable of guiding you in your role as a wife. But before most Demetian women marry, they have many years of training from their mothers in our rules and way of life. We fear that even if Martel did not have his duties managing our trade, he would still not have sufficient time to teach you everything you must know. Therefore we intend to appoint a woman to help him in this task."

  Shalimerie stepped forward. "Until Chardontal is old enough to attend school, my only task during the day is to look after him. I would have time to teach our ways to my new sister-in-law."

  Tadewidan shook his head. "We have already discussed that possibility. But there are too many problems. First, as an immigrant from Lycarta, you do not have the experience of those who grew up in Wyteen. Second, teaching requires discipline as well as imparting knowledge. We believe that your acts today indicate that you will become friends with your sister-in-law. Even if this is not so, it would be difficult for you to wield the required authority with one of your own age."

  "The council appreciates your offer, Mistress Shalimerie," he concluded. "But we believe a better choice would be Mistress Elondelle, if she would come forward."

  Janys turned to see Martel's mother making her way to the front, while the glowering girl traipsed behind her.

  "Mistress Elondelle," Tadewidan greeted her. "Will you assume this task at our request, and thereby relieve some of the burden from your son?"

  "What the council bids, I will do," she told him. "But I have told Martel that I have grave reservations about his marrying an offworlder. As a mother, I had other hopes." Her eyes glanced over her shoulder at her human shadow.

  "We all have reservations," Tadewidan acknowledged. "Yet knowing what a fine job you have done educating Yagote since the deaths of Master Natholan and Mistress Gwenite gives us great confidence."

  "I shall do my best," she replied, bowing her head. The girl behind her smiled slyly.

  The elder looked pleased. "We also request that you assist Martel in providing what is necessary for his portion of the wedding. Mistress Shalimerie, we request the same of you as to the bride." Both women acknowledged they would do so.

  For the first time, the elder smiled broadly. "Then let us turn to the happier subject of the wedding date." He seemed to flip through a mental calendar. "It must of course fall on the first day of a decedon. The next one is three days away. Is that sufficient time for the preparations?"

  As Shalimerie and Elondelle n
odded their heads Janys wanted to scream at them. She could understand why the council wished to hurry the ceremony, but surely these women understood the benefit of delay. Given a little time, the Ambassador might be able to find some way to get the Protector to change his mind, or the Institute might perform a miracle.

  Hesitantly, she spoke up. "I always thought I would have more time to get ready for such a special day. May we postpone it for at least a full decedon?"

  Tadewidan and the rest of the council frowned at her. "Our weddings are simple, and with the assistance you are being rendered, require little more than that you appear and respond appropriately. We have no place to confine anyone for an extended period of time, nor can we release you into the community until you have actually become a member."

  "Besides, Elder Tadewidan, neither my son nor I can begin her teaching until she is joined to our family," Elondelle added. Janys shivered as she realized that she was soon going to be at the mercy of this woman.

  "Then we shall proceed as stated, and all who wish to attend shall gather at the community hall in three days' time." He motioned to the guards. "Please escort the future Mistress Janys to her usual quarters. She will stay there under supervision until the ceremony is performed."

  This time the men didn't take her arms, but allowed her to simply walk between them as they left the meeting hall. Going across the square, Janys noticed a small group of people gathered around the north end. A sound she'd never heard before rang out, followed by a woman's screams. "Mistress Plettigan is getting her blistering," the taller man commented. "That one will not be sitting for dinner tonight."

  "She deserves it," the other chimed in. "Why, I reported her once myself for saying things to me that were unfitting for a married lady, but Leonid believed her, and I decided not to take the matter to council."