Together, they scooped a hole out of the soft earth and planted the new treeling from Theroc. Straightening, Beneto closed his eyes and reached out to touch the trees. He spoke aloud, answering both the old green priest and the forest itself. “Talbun, this place is exactly what I had hoped for.”

82: PRIME DESIGNATE JORA’H

82PRIME DESIGNATE JORA’H

Bound by cultural expectations, Prime Designate Jora’h brought an endless string of lover-applicants to his private chambers. Some of the women were exotic, some ethereal and beautiful, others strange and sturdy. They represented the variety of kiths in the Ildiran race.

However, after studying the long list of prospective mates, Jora’h could not drive thoughts of the enchanting Nira Khali from his mind. He had read the names of supplicants from his own race and viewed images of the females, a spectrum of Ildiran beauty. His assistants would consider the records of previous lovers he had chosen, so that he would not appear to play favorites among the kiths. Jora’h had to be fair to all his people.

But more than anything else, he wanted Nira. The green-skinned, beguiling woman from Theroc filled his thoughts. None of the other names in the catalog of options could compare with her innocent, exuberant charms.

At last the Prime Designate chose at random, a singer who came to him trilling and ecstatic. Her large dark eyes were wide, her smile and smooth body eager to please him. She was called Ari’t, and when she told him her name, she sang it in musical notes rather than speaking more familiar sounds.

Jora’h’s delighted laugh was a harsh and guttural sound compared with the tones that flowed like honey out of Ari’t’s mouth. His smoky eyes gleamed with starlight reflections as he looked appreciatively at the ethereal singer.

“My deepest gratitude for choosing me, Prime Designate,” Ari’t said, and ended her sentence with a flourish of wordless melody. “I hope you find me acceptable as a mate.”

Jora’h wished for nothing more than to forget his fantasies of Nira. He sank back into his curved chair, admiring the singer’s exotic form. “You are very acceptable, Ari’t.”

She looked back at him, awestruck and nervous, giddy with disbelief. Jora’h let his eyes fall half-closed as he studied her body, her face. Without referring to the list, he couldn’t remember if he had ever chosen a member of the singer kith before.

Ari’t’s chest was broad, her ribcage expanded to accommodate powerful lungs. Her throat was enlarged to contain a symphony of delicate vocal cords. She had the most beautiful voice that Jora’h had ever heard. Ari’t supposedly had the ability to make her audiences weep, or laugh, or fall in love.