“Will you please stop rambling and tell me what’s wrong with my little sister?” Marek’s voice rose as he jumped to his feet and started to pace.
“Why, she’s becoming a woman, that’s all,” Sabine answered. “She’s simply beginning her female courses.”
“Courses? What…?” Marek broke off his circling to seize Sabine by the arm. “You mean, female deomi have their own form of aberatie, and it involves blood?”
Paling, the doctor pulled away. For a moment, he looked dizzy, then recovered.
“In a way. It’s called Woman’s Time, and once she experiences it, a female’s capable of being gotten with child. The blood simply indicates conception hasn’t happened.”
Marek looked shocked.
“We’ll have to watch the child carefully from now on, lord, know exactly when she has one of these Times.”
“You mean, it occurs regularly?” Even to himself, Marek sounded horrified.
“Generally, once a month, though with some females, it may be spaced a little longer.”
“How long does it last?” Marek had visions of an endless repetition of the hysterics he’d witnessed.
“Two to five days. Deomi females are usually indisposed during that time, don’t even leave their rooms. We’ll explain to Ruxanda how she has to remain quiet, and in the future, make certain she isn’t alone with any male.” He fixed Marek with a stern eye. “You’re going to have to be a very protective brother, Master. A watchdog.”
“For how long?”
“As long as she’s under your roof and fertile. Probably 40 years or so.”
“Forty years?”
Images of continuous sword battles with rut-minded young males flitted through Marek’s dismayed mind. Gods, does this happen to every deomi woman in the castel? Why haven’t I noticed?
Was that why they scuttled about, and disappeared belowstairs when not actually at their chores? He wondered if the twins were aware of this. Probably. The little beggars.
Undoubtedly they would laugh at their big brother’s ignorance, if he were foolish enough to let them find out.
“Gods, Sabine.” He laughed ruefully. “A few hours ago, Ruxanda was my baby sister, and now she’s on her way to becoming an adult? I’m thankful it’s nothing fatal.”
“Not for her, anyway,” Sabine muttered.
Fortunately, Marek didn’t hear. “Will you go and tell her this, and put her mind at ease?”
The doctor hesitated. “I think perhaps it should come from someone else.”
“Surely, I’m not expected to…”
“Not a male. A woman. A deomi female will know how to soothe the child.”
“A woman. Yes. Good idea. I’ll speak to Ilona.” Marek was so relieved his legs felt abruptly weak. “Is there anything else I should know about deomi females, doctor?”
Sabine pulled at his lip before he shook his head. “Nothing I can think of. All females, no matter their species, are pretty much alike, otherwise, I believe.”
“Thank the Oracle for that.” Marek prepared to leave the office.
“Before you go…” The doctor looked uncomfortable. Marek glanced back at him. “Have you bathed tonight?”
“I haven’t had time. Sandor got me out of bed to see to Xandi.”
“I suggest you do so as soon as you finish talking to Ilona.”
“Are you hinting I’m offensive, Sabine?” Marek’s tone was icy.
“No, no!” the doctor assured him hastily. “It’s just that…you’ve bedded a female, haven’t you? Recently?”
“Don’t make it sound like such a rare event,” Marek snapped, whilsilently thinking to himself it was exactly that. “s a matter of fact, I have. So?”
“You’ve also been with a female going through her courses. The smell’s all over you.”
“I haven’t been with Xandi, Sabine.” Marek chose to misunderstand the doctor’s words. “How dare you say that. I’d never touch the child. She’s my sister.”
“I didn’t mean that.” Sabine backpedalled immediately. “You hugged her perhaps? Tried to calm her?”
Marek’s nod cautiously affirmed he had.
“And got that blood scent on you. You must wash it off before you see anyone else. Any male here—gardi, your brothers, Dan. Hell, anyone with the least touch of aventurieri blood, all those under the thrall, in fact—will be affected by it. It even has me bothered a little.”
He glanced down meaningfully. The front of the doctor’s trousers sported a slight bulge.
“If you don’t, you’ll have a castel full of males driven to frenzy by female sex-scent coupled with deomi blood smell, and there’ll be brawls and other very unpleasant occurrences.”
“I’m sorry, Sabine.” Marek looked chastened. “I’d no idea.”
“If you delved females more often, you might.” The doctor ‘s reply was waspish.
“I’ll do as you say after I speak with Ilona.” Marek ignored his thrall’s outspokenness. “Have Sandor send up the bathing tub.”
Sabine looked relieved. “Good. I’ll send along a cleansing agent for you to use.”
Before the doctor could say anything more, Marek walked out.
* * *
“Have you found out what’s wrong with my little one?” Ilona asked, once Sandor closed the door to Marek’s sanctum.
“I have,” Marek answered. “First I’ve something to ask you. You’ve a child, don’t you?”
He knew she’d accepted a man from the village on the edge of the domain. It was how she became Ruxanda’s wetnurse. How many children she had now, he couldn’t remember.
“Yes, Master. Two. A boy and a girl.”
“Your daughter. How old is she?”
“She’s fourteen, sir. Why do you ask?”
“Does she have...uh...courses yet?” Wasn’t that what Sabine had called it? “Has she reached bleeding age?”
He expected her to blush. Instead she turned stark white and burst into tears.
“Oh, my lord, no. You promised. Not my daughter, please.”
“Ilona, calm yourself. What’s the meaning of this?”
Already tense with worry over Ruxanda, Marek rapped out the words harshly. With an effort, he forced himself to speak calmly, wishing he knew better how to deal with females.
“I asked a simple question, intimate though it is. There’s no cause for this behavior.”
The nursemaid stop crying. “I thought…” She took a deep breath. “I thought you were saying you wanted my Mariska brought to the castel to become one of your vita.”
“Didn’t I promise your family’d never be touched? Credit me with a little fidelity to my word.” He decided to debase himself a little in the nursemaid’s eyes in hope of reassuring her. “Call it male ignorance of a female’s physical nature if you will. What I meant was, Xandi’s outburst, her illness, it’s simply the start of her first Woman’s Time.”
“Oh, the poor child…and none but a houseful of ignorant men who can’t tell her what’s happening. Of course, she’s frightened.” Like Sabine, Ilona fell to chastising herself for ignoring the signs. “I should’ve been more alert. It would’ve saved all of us some grief.”
“It came upon all of us too suddenly.” Relieved she had no idea aventurieri females didn’t experience such, he went on. “Since she has no mother to tell her, would you explain it to her? Tell her everything she’ll need to know? Dr. Lavelle thinks it may calm Xandi more coming from another woman.”
“Of course, I will, sir.”
“Also, caution her to keep silent about this. There’s been no other female in this household since my stepmother died, so you may not be aware, and there’s no doubt Ruxanda’s also ignorant of the fact, but such things aren’t spoken of outside the bedchamber.”
There, that should prevent further questions.
“Certainly, my lord.”
Hands on her shoulders, Marek hurried her to the door. She walked with him easily, by no sign showing she was
bothered by his closeness. Apparently, deomi females weren’t affected by sex-scent.
Outside in the corridor, he gave her a gentle nudge in the direction of Ruxanda’s room, then returned to his own chambers and the lovely little female waiting for him.
Chapter 16
When Marek appeared, the girl was already dressed, braiding her hair before the cheval glass.
“You’re leaving?” He tried to hide his disappointment as he pushed the door shut.
“I must, my lord.” Her eyes met his in the mirror. “I’m certain Madame Lubos has already missed me.”
“How do you expect to find your way?”
The path through the forest and down the mountainside was treacherous enough in daylight. At night, it’d be deadly to one without wings and no night vision worth mentioning.
“I thought perhaps the old vanjos—I mean, montant—would give me directions.” She avoided looking at him, becoming concerned with lacing the bodice of her dress.
“Do you want to go?” Marek came closer, his bare feet making no sound on the thick carpet.
When she looked up to find him standing directly behind her, she appeared startled.
“Not really.” The gaze she turned on him was unhappy. “I'll probably get a beating for coming here.” She tried to look unconcerned. “Oh, well, it won’t be the first time.”
“What’s your name?” He touched her shoulders.
Unconsciously, she leaned against him. “Lily. Lily-Magda.”
“Don’t go, Lily-Magda,” he whispered into her ear, one arm going around her waist. Pushing her hand out of the way, he worked the laces apart. “Stay here. With me.”
“Madame’ll never let me stay, my lord, not even to be servant to a ghidaj.”
He had the dress open to her waist, could see white breasts gleaming, pushed his hand inside, and began to search downward for those warm folds.
“She won’t have a choice if the ghidaj demands it.” His fingers found what they were hunting, massaging the little button gently.
She gasped and bit her lip and leaned more heavily against him.
“I don’t want you as a servant.” He pulled his hand away, feeling again that wonderful, warm female liquid lingering upon it. “I wish you to be my woman.”
She whirled, staring at him.
Recklessly, startling even himself, he went on. “I believe I love you, girl. Stay with me, my crimson lily.”
To his surprise she burst into tears.
“Oh, Master, since the moment I saw you standing in the gallery…I didn’t know who you were and when I found out… How could the ghidaj want someone like me? But you did and now…” She put her hands to her face and began to sob louder.
“Does that mean yes?” Marek pulled her hands away. Oracle, damn it! Am I to be accursed this night with crying women? Why can’t females have to preface every emotional reply with tears?
She gave him a watery smile and nodded.
Throwing his arms around her, he lifted her off the floor, feeling his shoulder once more burn in protest as he swung her in a tight circle. He kissed her again. When he set her down, she was laughing.
Pulling the dress from her shoulders, he let it drop to the floor. His robe followed. Naked, he swept her into his arms and he ran to the window, climbing upon the window seat.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
With one hand, he pushed the shutters open and stepped onto the sill. There was a soft
rustle as his wings unfurled. Marek flung himself from the window, Lily clutched in his arms. Her squeal of fear was bitten off as she realized they weren’t falling to their deaths, but instead rising above the trees.
Marek circled the courtyard, then climbed higher, the sweep of his wings pushing the air past them in loud gusts.
“Look, Lily.” He gestured, and she glanced at the scene far below them…the castel and the forest around it, and further on, the rough slopes of the mountains and the far-off peaks.
On the parapet of the castel they could see soldati walking the walls. One looked up, pointing, calling to another, and they raised their hands saluting their ghidaj. Marek swooped lower, spinning in the air, acknowledging their homage as Lily laughed with delight.
“Oh, Master, it’s so beautiful.”
“This is all Strigoi land, Lily. It’s mine, and it’ll be yours, too, if you’ll stay with me.”
Circling above the tallest pine, he rose higher until they touched the first wisp of cloud hovering above the mountain peak, the shadows of the cliffs covering and hiding them.
How he’d missed flying.
He hadn’t left the earth since that devastating night when Vlad opened his brother’s body to release his wings. For over a dozen years he’d kept himself earthbound. Now, with this wonderful female in his arms, he was liberated by the vast and concealing dark.
“It’ll be summer soon,” he said. “When the nights are warmer, we’ll fly over the river and see our reflections in the water. It’s so clear you can see to the bottom when the moon’s full. The travertine in the currents reflects it like a mirror. Would you like that? Will you stay?”
“Oh, yes.” Her arms tightened around his neck.
Before them loomed the highest tower of the castle, its stones silvered in the moonlight. His wings bore them to the tower’s spire where the Strigoi banner, a sword cleaving the sun, waved in the night air. Around the emblem in blood-red script was embroidered the clan motto, In Fidelitas, Est Potentia…In Loyalty, There is Power.
As he circled the tower, he kissed her with a quickening hunger, eagerly, desperately, even as he tried to be restrained, trailing small bites across her throat. His wings caused the banner to flap wildly as if in a sudden storm, the words seeming to blink at them… Fidelitas… Potentia…
…Loyalty…Power…
Turning her head, Lily brushed her lips across his mouth. Body against hers, he hesitated. He kissed her one last time, trailing fingers down her back, breathing softly against pale flesh, then grunted quietly as he felt his erection tighten near to bursting.
“Time to go back.”
Better get to his chamber before he spilled into the air. There’d be no way to gather that seed and dispose of it.
As he aimed himself for the window, Lily pressed her face against his chest. He landed on the sill and stepped into the room, setting her down as he collapsed his wings. For a moment longer she clung to him, then took her arms from around his neck and exhaled a long, trembling sigh.
While they were gone, some of the vanjosi had brought in the bathing tin, set it before the fire and filled it with hot water. It was a large tub, round and shallow, steam silhouetted in red ripples against the glow of the fire.
“I need to bathe.”
Dropping Lily’s hand, he stepped into the water, but as he reached for a pitcher set atop a nearby chest, she said, “Let me.”
She used it to pour the water over him. Picking up a soft cloth, she opened a nearby bottle. A scent of florals, mint, and lemon floated into the air. Marek wondered if this was Sabine’s cleasing agent. Rubbing it into a lather, she began to enthusiastically scrub his back.
“Easy, nurliu.” Marek laughed. “This isn’t one of Madame Lubos’ stone floors you’re scouring.”
Smiling in answer, she rubbed more gently, moving the cloth in sensuous circles over his hips. At last, he took the cloth from her and knelt in the water, cleansing his privates to make certain all signs of their coupling, were washed away.
“Come, Lily. There’s room enough for two.”
Ignoring the way the skin on his nethers stung, he pulled her into the tub. Together they splashed in the water like infantse.
It was as he turned toward the firelight that she saw the wound in his shoulder.
“You’re hurt.” Her fingers touched the gash, its edges curled and burned, a large bluish bruise spreading around it. “You’ve been shot. Why didn’t you say something?”
He winc
ed, then covered it with a shrug. “I wanted you too much to let something like that stop me.”
“You must have your doctor tend it.”
“I will,” he promised. “Later.”
He was surprised by her concern.
At the moment the pain wasn’t so bad, didn’t bother him half as much as it had when it happened. He was certain even without an application of aventurieri blood, it would soon heal and be forgotten. Stepping from the tub, he dried himself with one of the towels the servants left and walked to the mirror hanging above the little washstand.
Marek studied his reflection. As usual, he already had the beginnings of beard-shadow, but that wasn’t surprising. It was merely another of the things making him different from his brothers.
Sandor had also supplied him with a cup of warm soapy water.
“Bring that lamp closer, will you?”
As he rubbed the suds onto his face, Lily picked up the bedside lamp and set it on the washstand beside him. While he wielded the razor, she watched.
“Why do you have a beard? I’ve seen many aventurieri at Madame Lubos’, and none of them have any facial hair at all. Barely any body hair, either.” She touched his chest, running fingers through the thick dark hair.
“I’m ghidaj.” He skimmed the blade across one cheek. “A ghidaj’s physically different from others.”
“Yes, you’re definitely different.” She took a step closer, leaning against him. One hand slid between his legs, giving his privates a squeeze.
He nearly dropped the razor, lowering it to keep from cutting himself.
She smiled, her hand tightening again. “Let’s go back to bed.”
He wanted to—oh, most certainly—but there were duties waiting outside the bedroom door. He shook his head. “I’ve already bathed. If you and I get back into that bed, I’ll have to do so again.”
Reluctance in every movement, he wiped away the soap with a towel and went to the wardrobe. All his robes were missing, only the new suits remained. Telling himself he’d have a word with Sabine about this liberty with his clothing, he selected the least elaborate, adorned with gold braid on lapels and cuffs, and put it on.
Strigoi Page 11