Barbarian's Bride (Ice Planet Barbarians)

"That was weird," I comment.

Stacy gives me a sly look. "It was, wasn't it?"

I frown at her, but don't comment on it. Everyone's been a little weird all day long, if I'm being honest. Maybe I'm just being sensitive. Maybe it's pregnancy hormones. Is it too early for that sort of thing? I have no idea. No one knows how long a human-sa-khui pregnancy is going to be, and it's all guesswork from here on out.

Dagesh appears at the entrance, meeting us and taking the basket from my hands.

"Oh, hi," I breathe, pleased to see my mate. "You didn't have to come out here to get me."

"I did," he says, and I expect him to heft the basket and bring it back to our cave. Instead, he sets it down near the entrance and takes my hands in his. "Come."

"Uh, I'm coming. What's going on?" He's got such a bright-eyed look on his face that it makes me wonder, just a little, what he's up to.

Dagesh just grins wider and leads me in. My eyes adjust to the darkness—I didn't realize how bright it was out in the snow—and when I can see, it looks as if the entire tribe is gathered in the main section of the cave. I look over at Stacy, but she's grinning. Dagesh tugs me forward, leading me to the center of the group, and as he does, I smell food and the sour scent of the ice planet version of alcohol, a fermented drink called sah-sah.

As we move forward, Kemli puts a string of colorful seeds around my neck. Georgie moves forward and puts a headband on my head, and attached to it is a decorated piece of leather. "It's not exactly a veil," she says, "but I hope it'll do."

Dagesh pulls me past them, gazing up at the ceiling. As he does, I realize he's tugging me under a canopy that someone's set up. Well, I guess it's kind of a canopy. It's two big, shaggy furs mounted on spears, and he ducks under it and pulls me with him.

"What's going on?" I ask, bewildered. "Is there a party? Is it someone's birthday? Mine's not until the summer, and you guys don't even have summer."

My mate just tugs on my hands until I'm positioned under the canopy, and he beams at me. His braid swings as he looks around, as if making sure everyone is gathered, and then he sets my hands down. He takes a small leather package that someone hands him and then looks me in the eye.

"This is for you, my mate."

He throws the wrappings down to the ground and stomps on them.

I blink. "Um. Babe? Are you mad at me?" I glance around, worried, but no one else seems to be bizarred out by this. He hands me a leather pouch, then gives me an encouraging look. "What's in this?"

"It is not a glass," he admits. "But I hope it will do."

A glass? I open the pouch and see the bone cup inside. It's not one of the more carved ones, but it's as delicate and fragile as porcelain. As I stare at it, Dagesh gives the one under his foot another helpful stomp. When I look up, he gives me a worried glance. "Am I not doing it right?"

Doing it right?

I blink. Then, the light goes on slowly.

A veil.

A chuppah.

We're breaking cups. Not glassware, but cups. Oh my. He's marrying me.

"Dagesh? Is this a wedding?" I cry, my hand going to my breast in surprise.

He just grins at me, so boyish and handsome. "I wished to honor your yoo-ish ancestors. I worried you were not happy because we did not have ceremonies like your people. So I have had help putting this together." His expression grows slightly worried. "Have I done wrong?"

"No, no," I say, and hot tears threaten. This might be the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. "This is lovely, babe. So lovely."

He gestures at the cup in my hands, waiting.

I laugh, set the bag on the floor, and stomp it with my snow-damp boot. It doesn't crack as well as glass does, but I don't care. I only have eyes for my sweet, thoughtful mate who wanted to give me a proper Jewish wedding, ice planet style.

After we smash the cups, Dagesh takes my hands and says sweet, loving things to me that I suspect are supposed to be his vows. He circles around me seven times, and I don't have the heart to point out that in a Jewish ceremony, the bride is the one that circles the groom. It's the thought that counts, and I love how much effort he's put into this. Once our little ceremony is over, we're grabbed by the tribe and hauled onto stools that are hefted into the air. The drums start, and then we're carried around the cave, laughing, by the hunters of the tribe. Everyone looks thrilled—well, except Haeden, who looks like he was born with a burr up his backside.