Tivi's Dagger Page 15

  Without my brother to worry about, I soared on a sudden eddy of happiness. My upcoming marriage be damned; this was our time, Kari’s and mine, to enjoy as we saw fit. Too much time had passed since our day by the Vanishing Lake and I wanted to undress him while the candles burned strong enough to give me light to see his lithe and handsome body. Our foreheads touched and our lips were inches apart as my fingers found his belt and undid the clasp. I stroked the soft furs he wore about his shoulders and slipped them off, then brought his tunic up over his head. The air about us was cool and he shivered a little, but as I shed my clothes the heat between us was enough warmth for me.

  When we were naked, he took my hand and we slipped into the warm waters of the pool. Kari was right; it seemed like an age since I had felt so warm and content. All the aches in my body seemed to float away in the churning water. Kari threw his head back to let the waterfall cascade soak his hair. He laughed and spluttered as it filled his mouth and nose as well, and I grabbed him and smoothed the soaking curls off his forehead with a smile. He seemed to take joy in even the most simple of activities, and it only increased my affection toward him.

  We kissed languidly in the warmth, our bodies brushing against each other. I loved the hard feel of the muscles moving under his skin, the hair on his chest and belly, such a different sensation from stroking the soft flesh of a woman. He faced me and wrapped his arms and legs around me, all the time teasing my mouth with little darts of his tongue. His prick was hard and jousted against mine in the dark depths of the pool until I was almost tortured with the sensation, for he would not allow me to reach downwards until we were clean and lying on the rug once more. I shivered with delight as the cool mountain air flowed around my heated skin; the material was rough beneath me and the smell of Kari’s damp hair was intoxicating. I licked some drops of water from under his arm and he giggled.

  “Ticklish, are you?” I muttered, of a mind to throw him on his back and dig my fingers into his ribs, but he circled my wrists in his hands and nudged his nose against mine before covering my mouth with his. His kisses were more forceful than before, and I knew from the way he was touching me that he was focused on the same activity that I had been obsessed with at his age — sliding his prick into a welcoming hole. I had many character flaws, but being a selfish lover was not one of them, and as his hands began to knead my buttocks I resolved to allow him the pleasure he had allowed me. It did not come easily, to surrender control and lie down on my back to let him slip on top of me and between my legs, but then he whispered my name and that simple sound, so full of longing, undid me. My anxieties faded into the darkness, their flames extinguished for the moment.

  He helped me prepare myself with the little vial of oil he carried, and after some more of those hot kisses I was ready. “Go easy,” I muttered, as he began to push his slippery prick into my body.

  The pain was extraordinary and I was glad it was dark so he could not see it all over my face. I clung to him because I could do little else, and tried to breathe and relax as best I could. His muscles were trembling with the effort of going slow and I appreciated the effort. It was almost overwhelming to feel the heat of him buried to the hilt inside me. I felt stuffed to the brim and the stinging from my stretched flesh was almost intolerable. I shifted as much as I could and raised my legs higher. He kissed me then, plundering my mouth with his tongue, and circled my nipple with his finger and thumb before pinching hard. I let out a gasp, unable to tell if it was pleasure or pain, but it drove my attention away from the torment below my waist until finally, I relaxed.

  He whispered to me in sibilant Methari and nibbled my earlobe. I wrapped my arms around his body and he hooked my legs around his. I was completely under his control and it was an entirely new experience for me. But as he shifted position I felt — unbelievably — a new sensation plucked deep inside like the string of some undiscovered instrument. Waves of pleasure began to reverberate through my body and began to blend almost deliciously with the pain until it became something else entirely. What was this, indeed? My prick leapt and twitched against my stomach, suddenly hotter and harder than I’d ever known it. I held it loosely in my hand, rubbing my thumb over the sensitive underside just in time to Kari’s thrusts, but my mind was clouded with the sensations he was bringing to my insides. Was this some sort of magic? No woman I’d ever taken so had reported such a feeling. Baffled and aroused to the point of madness I grunted and moaned as my lover began to move faster and more deliberately. Slipping his substantial length out to the tip then driving in hard; pulling out, leaving me empty, only to plunge back in, breaching me again and again and I was powerless to stop him.

  I did not recognize the needy sounds that issued from my lips as I moved against him until with some alarm I realized that I was going to spill my seed. How was it possible? My whole body tensed as I felt it come, not just from my prick but somewhere deep inside. I sank my teeth into Kari’s shoulder and I could not stop myself from crying out as it shot up my belly. Finally, when my muscles relaxed once more, I flopped bonelessly back onto the rug, almost terrified by the intensity of what I’d just felt. My whole body was tingling with pleasure and my heart thumped against my ribs. Kari stiffened above me and then crashed down into my arms with a sigh. Seconds later, I felt his seed trickling out of my body and I stroked his hair as he murmured my name and we both struggled to catch our breath.

  “What,” I gasped finally. “What did you do?”

  He rolled off me and onto his side, breathing heavily. “I made love to you, Ned, as you did to me.”

  “Have you used some sort of magic?”

  When he spoke again, I could hear the smile in his voice. “If love is magic, then that is what I used.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled my ear, and his body kept me warm. It was almost comforting to be held so tightly, but I was unsettled and bewildered by the whole experience. I felt like a coconut that had fallen from a tree onto a rock — cracked open and exposed — and was suddenly consumed by a shame springing from an unknown source deep inside. No matter how much I had tried to convince myself over the years that I was a modern and open-minded man of Lis, the moral instruction taught to me in my childhood by the Protectors seemed to linger, threaded through my thoughts like veins of silver in dense rock caves, easily chipped away but not so easily eradicated, the very same teachings that had caused me to back away from enjoying the magnificent captain back in the Pirates’ Isles. For here I was, locked in the embrace of one who truly loved me, and yet hesitating once again. I found I did not know my own mind — nor my own body — as well as I had believed.

  What was wrong with me, all of a sudden?

  I loosed myself from Kari’s arms and sat up, wiping my stomach and shoulders of my emissions. There was even some in my hair. “I think I’ll bathe again. I’m sweaty and sticky.”

  “As you wish, my Ned. I’ll join you when the strength returns to my legs.”

  The warmth of the water stung at my arse and I scrubbed myself hard. I did not tarry long enough for Kari to join me; instead, I limped back to the rug and began to pull on my clothes. Without the intense pleasure to mask the pain, I observed that walking was somewhat uncomfortable, almost as if I was saddle sore. I flexed my healing hand and observed that here was another wound I would have to mask from my brother. Like the marks on my back, my burnt hand only served to remind Brin of my more undesirable characteristics and with the mending of our relationship, I did not want to thrust evidence of some other deviant behavior under his nose which might drive another wedge between us and make life unbearable once more.

  Kari sat up and took my hand. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course,” I said tersely. I had no idea why I felt compelled to push him away, but I couldn’t stop myself. “I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”

  “But we can sleep here,” he said, and I could hear the note of disappointment in his voice.

  “It’s too cold. I want my
blankets.”

  Realizing that I sounded like a petulant child, I scrambled up the bank before I could say more. He called after me, but I fixed my eye on the camp fire and wended my way through the trees toward it. Lana was lying on her back, mouth open and sending her snores to the sky, with my brother’s head still nestling in her lap. Kel was curled up under his blankets with the Book of Matativi in his hand. Gently, I took the book and tucked it under his pack, suddenly envious of my cousin’s simple passion for knowledge. How uncomplicated the world must seem to one such as he, who saw opportunities to learn in almost every experience and was satisfied so easily by so little.

  I curled up under my blankets and stared at the dark sky. The moon and stars hid behind the clouds and did not look down. The landscape around us was the same, but all the same everything felt different. I wriggled around, trying to get comfortable in a position that would not disturb my aching arse. Every time I moved I was reminded of what had just happened and it just made my heart beat harder with anxiety. Kari, fully dressed, came back to the camp and shot me a mournful look as he unrolled his blankets. Perhaps he thought he had hurt me. I did not know what to think any more.

  With a heavy heart, I turned from him and stared into the darkness.

  ***

  The next morning I labored over packing my bag as neatly as I could so I did not have to engage in conversation. Kari stirred the cookpot, which was bubbling with another stew to line our bellies for the day ahead. He seemed somewhat subdued and the weight of guilt pressed heavy upon me as I noticed the miserable bent of his shoulders. I stared at him for a moment as a lump formed in my throat, then coughed and went back to my packing. Lana, seemingly oblivious to the gloomy atmosphere between us, was entertaining Kel with the more family-friendly jokes she’d learned from her dwarven friends. Brin seemed much happier now that he was well-rested and he was walking much more easily than before. He stroked the donkey’s nose and fed it a carrot, listening to Lana and Kel’s idle chatter.

  “So this really thirsty human walks into a dwarven bar in the desert, and the barman says ‘Sorry, we don’t serve long drinks of water.’”

  Kel slapped his knees and laughed for a while, then his face straightened. “I don’t get it.”

  “Why are you laughing then, idiot?” Lana chuckled and gave my cousin a playful push. He slipped off the rock he was perched upon and sat down hard upon the ground.

  “My arse!” Kel exclaimed, twisting to examine his butt cheek. “Why, you’ve torn a hole in my leathers. You owe me some needlework, woman.”

  “So this theology student finds out he has holey pants,” Lana began, but then we heard a strange noise and I realized that Lana had finally won her wager.

  My brother was laughing.

  “Nice,” he said, still chuckling, and went about loading the donkey up for the day’s journey.

  I stared at Lana in amazement, but she just shrugged and flashed me a sunny grin. Whatever Kari had drugged my brother with was obviously still having some effect.

  After breakfast we were all ready to go when Kari looked up at the clearing sky and then down at his map. “We will see Thar Mati today,” he said. “In these pleasant conditions, there’s no reason why we should suffer any delay.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Brin said, and led the donkey from our campsite toward the trail we had left the previous evening. Kari followed closely behind and I tried not to notice how unhappy he seemed. As if it was our very first day on the pilgrimage I lagged behind, still aware of my stinging arse, my heart filled with a creeping misery I could not quite comprehend.

  As we walked I saw nothing of the cloud-tipped mountains or the strips of land farmed for tea crops around us. I stared at my feet and kicked a few stones for good measure. The pack was weighing on my back and I longed to be rid of it, but it would be many long days before that would happen. We still had to make our way back to Lis, and I was well aware that the return journey — much longer as it would be, since my brother had no intention of allowing me to be possessed by the fae once more — would be much less enjoyable, since each step in that direction would bring me closer to the altar.

  I stopped putting the thought of my impending marriage to the back of my mind and faced the ghastly prospect wholly for the first time.

  My bride would be waiting for me in the circular room of the inner Temple, surrounded by the silhouetted statues of the Thirteen, who would be gazing at us through a sheer purple cloth illuminated from behind, thus symbolizing the boundary between earthly love and theirs. She and I would both be veiled so that we would not see each other’s faces until whatever Protector had been chosen to officiate had pronounced us wed. I imagined the smell of incense and the bowls of fresh rose petals waiting by the door to be flung over us as we went out of the temple to our new life. This woman I did not yet know would be living in my house, rearranging my furniture and adding her own, managing the servants and our social calendar. She might be prone to annoying behavior such as brushing her hair in bed, or leaving her smelly shoes inside the door instead of on the steps. Perhaps she would force me to attend the high society dinners and balls I hated, as to go without me would be a signal that our marriage was over and would bring a great disgrace to me and the Melchion name. She would come to my bed, dressed in my mother’s wedding gown for the first night as was tradition and naked thereafter, waiting coyly for me to perform my husbandly duties. Even though she might have fucked two dozen men before me, she would still pretend I was her first, because she would have been groomed from birth for her own role in a marriage of strategy, just as I had. I felt a growing pity for her, whoever she was, but not as much as I felt for myself.

  My guts knotted inside me and I felt so thoroughly sick that after a while I had to stop walking and deposit my breakfast at the side of the trail.

  I had hoped I was far enough behind the others that they would not hear me retching into the grass but alas it was not to be. Brin stopped and the donkey began to nibble at a clump of grass. Everyone was looking at me as Kari rushed over, his face full of concern.

  “Are you ill, my Ned? Did my stew have some bad effect?”

  The touch of his hand on my arm caused another wave of misery and I gestured to Brin to resume walking, which he did. I turned to Kari, sick to the bones. “No, it was fine,” I said with a weak smile. “I’m fine, it’s just a passing thing. Don’t worry.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said. His blue eyes had turned the color of rainclouds, and the sadness in them made my guts twist once more. “What we did last night…when you did it to me it just made me love you more, not less. I must be a truly dreadful lover to make you so disagreeable and unhappy afterwards.”

  “Kari,” I said wretchedly. “You aren’t a dreadful lover, quite the opposite. Just…I have a lot on my mind. I know how this is going to sound but…could you leave me alone for a while?”

  A tear dropped down his cheek and he wiped it away impatiently. “If that is your wish, then I will do it.”

  Just then we were overtaken by another group of Methari soldier monks, who broke formation to pass us like river water around a stone. They numbered about thirty and did not stop to greet us. I hadn’t the energy to speculate about yet another danger that they could be speeding off to deal with and instead focused my vision on my feet as they trudged along the stony path, seemingly of their own accord.

  Where would I go, if I could choose?

  It was a dizzying thought, but I put it to one side as we rounded yet another mountain and then stopped in our tracks to stare across the flat land that had opened up in front of us, zigzagged with rows of tea plants and occasional stilted dwellings and clumps of trees. The three peaks ahead dominated the landscape, making the mountains we’d passed already seem like mere pimples. They were truly majestic, bare black slopes crowned with snow and rings of cloud.

  Thar Mati and the Twin Sisters were in sight at last.

  “What a view!” Kari exclaimed, rou
sed from his gloom by the sight of the mountains.

  Spurred onwards, we picked up the pace. Even I had momentarily forgotten my plight in my eagerness to plunge into the magnificent view before us. We wended our way through a small path among the tea fields for a half-hour or more. But as we were about to pass one of the stilted dwellings, we saw the warrior monks from before, as well as some other travellers, clustered about the farmyard, talking excitedly to each other and pointing toward the foot of Thar Mati. I recognized the huge hound from the inn in Kalati and looked around for its owner, whom I spotted deep in conversation with one of the monks and looking a lot more cheerful than she had previously.

  Kari hailed the nearest silver-clad figure and they talked for a moment, gesturing toward the mountains ahead. The monk fished a brass-ringed telescope from his pocket and handed it to Kari who peered toward Thar Mati for some minutes before turning to us with a small smile. “I am afraid we may not be able to reach the shrine after all,” he said. “The dragon rests just above it. Look.”

  I took the telescope and peered through it. It was a crude instrument but it allowed me to scan the treeless black slopes until my eye caught a flight of ancient stone steps carved into the mountain’s base and ending just a little higher. I saw the stones of the shrine, bowed and broken and yet somehow magnificent in their weathered carving; the recognizable outlines of the Thirteen covered in moss and dead creepers.

  Just above the shrine on the slopes lay the form of a sleeping dragon.

  My breath caught in my throat at the sight of the creature as one of my life’s ambitions came to pass. The dragon’s thick, overlapping scales glinted a dark sapphire blue in the sunlight. One of its wings was folded strangely about its side, bulging with what I speculated to be its foot, while the other was folded against its spine which was ridged almost as if the bones lay on the outside. As it breathed, its enormous flanks expanded and contracted and it twitched the tapered end of its tail, which was long and coiled about its body. The creature was bigger than I’d ever imagined, almost as large as the whole shrine itself. I could only imagine how I would compare against it up close — it was doubtful that my head would be higher than the top of its three-toed feet.