Once he accidentally touched me, and I felt again the peculiar tingle between us. It reminded me a little of the warmth of magic flowing into me, as when Jayna used her vessel or my mother touched me. And yet it was not the same, whatever it was that passed between us. I wondered if it was because he was some sort of god, but I saw him touch other people without any reaction. And he seemed as disturbed by it as I was.
By our final evening, I was exhausted in body and spirit. Despite Jayna’s ministrations, my energy levels had dropped alarmingly. Worse, I was beginning to fear that the entire journey had been a waste of time. We had learned little of the Blood Clans, except that they wore simple clothes, ate a great deal of meat and drank a strange herbal brew. Few of them spoke Bennamorian, but they fell silent whenever we approached them, so we discovered no secrets.
We didn’t even see any of their famous beasts, apart from a pine marten, strolling along at the heels of one man. But the eagles still circled overhead, and crows hopped from tent to tent as we walked about. Watching us, I was sure.
So my reserves of politeness were low when Ly-haam leaned nearer to me at the supper table, and said with his charming smile, “So have you enjoyed your stay with us, Princess?”
“No,” I snapped. “You have put on a fine show for us, byan shar, but I have no idea what the point of it all was.”
“A show?” he said, tilting his head to one side. “I do not understand.”
“All this,” I said, with a gesture encompassing the tent, the supper table and all the people seated around it, suddenly silent, watching me open-mouthed. “It is a very pretty picture, all this rustic simplicity, but you must think us very stupid if you imagine we would be taken in by it.”
He was silent for a moment, his eyes glazed as if focused on some inner contemplation. Then he nodded. “Very well. We should talk, perhaps. Alone.”
“An excellent idea.”
And perhaps I would finally find out just what we were there for.
6: Blood
He led the way between the tents, weaving this way and that until I was quite lost. It was not quite darkmoon, but even so the night was black, and I stumbled over rough ground once or twice. Ly-haam never faltered, though, as if he could see perfectly well. Behind me, the reassuring metallic clinks and heavy footfalls of my bodyguard.
Ly-haam stopped so abruptly that I almost crashed into him. “Here. This one is empty.” He held up the flap to the tent entrance.
I hesitated, but my bodyguard pushed forward. “You go in first, byan shar, and I’ll come in behind you and check it out.”
He glanced from Cryalla to me, then without a word ducked through the entrance. I stood out there in the dark, quite alone, for some time. It wasn’t cold, but I was shivering. I wished the sun was out to warm my bones and give me a tiny burst of energy, or that I could lie down and press my fingers into the earth, as I used to do as a child. I hadn’t felt so miserable for years, not since I’d first reached Kingswell.
It struck me now just how well I’d been there. Illness dominates your life when it is present, but as soon as it disappears, it’s as if it had never been. Perhaps the mind wipes away all memory of it, as it does with the pain of an emerging tooth or a grazed knee – agony at the time, soon forgotten.
I remembered my illness now, though. There it was, dragging me down into the depths, just as it did when I was little. The only comfort I had then was my mother, who held me for endless hours, her magic seeping into me little by little, keeping me well. At that moment, all I wanted was to see her again, to hold her hand, and feed off her energy.
I was tired of Kingswell, tired of doing what was expected of me, tired of this pointless mission. I wanted to go home to my mother. It was what I’d always wanted, but Yannassia had fooled me too often. Now I had my chance to prove to her that I was quite unsuitable to be her heir. All I had to do was ensure that this mission failed.
Cryalla edged out of the tent. “All clear. No weapons anywhere. Look – do you want me to come inside with you?”
“No, it will be fine.”
“As you wish. I’ll wait out here. Just scream if you need me.”
I think she was grinning, but it was so dark it was hard to be sure.
Inside the tent, Ly-haam had lit a brazier, and was coaxing it into life. “I have no besh here, but I can send for some, if you like to drink.”
“Thank you, but this is not a social occasion.”
“Oh?”
“No.” I licked my dry lips, but there was no stopping me now. I knew what I had to do. “We have put up with your evasions for suns now. I have no idea what you want from us, what you really think, or even who you are.”
“I am Ly-haam,” he said, in puzzled tones. “I am byan shar.”
“So you say. I have no way to know. It is obvious this camp is all a sham, that none of you actually live here. You’ve hidden all your beasts, even though they are somewhere nearby. You tell us nothing. So how do I know you are who you say you are?”
He raised his hands as if to ward off a blow. “This is… unexpected. I had no idea… I thought we were friends—”
“Friends!” I gave a bark of laughter. “Hardly.”
“But you must feel it…! Surely you do. I know you do. When we touch—”
“I have no idea what that is, what sorcery you may be using—”
“Sorcery! No, nothing of that kind. That is why… I thought you understood. You never asked what I wanted from you, so I assumed you knew. We have no magic, Princess… Highness. Some connection with beasts, no more than that. Your mages have real magic. That is what I want – to be able to heal my people.”
“But you are a god, aren’t you? Don’t gods have that power?”
His face twisted. “No. Will you help? Please?”
He reached for my hand, and there it was again, like a spark between us. He released me and threw up his hands. “Sorry! Sorry! I forgot… Shit, this is hard.”
He clicked his tongue in annoyance, and I guessed that he’d lapsed into his own language.
“Do you feel it?” he said again. “Something between us…”
“When we touch?”
He was pacing back and forth, hands moving constantly, as if he couldn’t bear to be still. “Not just then. All the time. There is something about you, something that draws me. I… I cannot resist you. I want to touch you, to kiss you, to… to more than kiss. Do you feel it?”
He stopped moving, and one hand lifted towards my face.
I had just one moment to decide. I could have stepped away from him. I could even have called out to my bodyguard. A single word would have stopped him.
But the mischief was in my veins, and at the back of my mind was the old urge to behave badly, so badly that Yannassia would reject me.
So I let him touch me. As soon as his hand rested on my face, I was caught. I hadn’t felt the pull before, in those slight touches where we’d jumped apart at once. But now, with my cheek nestled against his palm, it blazed through me like a forest fire.
Inch by inch we moved closer, until I could feel his breath, ragged and gasping, pulsing on my face. Then his lips were burning into mine, hotter than the sun. We kissed and drew apart, and then kissed again, and each time his body pressed a little closer to mine.
I had been kissed before, by my lovely bodyguard, and I knew what that felt like, the warmth of skin against skin, the fizzing pleasure of it, the responses in parts I wasn’t used to taking much notice of.
This was nothing at all like that. It was like falling from a great height, a searing inevitability that drew us together almost against our wills. My mind was panicking but my body was responding to another call altogether. I wanted to slow down, but I couldn’t. I had no control over myself. It was terrifying.
Within moments, we were fumbling with clothing and he was pressing himself hard against me. I pulled him to me and moved against him. We were on fire, and the fire consumed us both.
I was barely conscious of him inside me, pushing against my hips, his hands on my buttocks. It was all flames, blazing inside me with such strength that I lost my awareness of anything beyond that raging furnace.
It was a surprise when he stopped moving, clutching me tightly, his breathing shallow and rapid.
He whispered into my hair. “Dear ancestors, what in the world have I done? Forgive me, forgive me. Oh, ancestors, what have I done?”
But I don’t think he was speaking Bennamorian.
~~~~~
I have no idea how I got back to the sleeping tent. Maybe Cryalla led me, for she seemed to have a better sense of direction than I did. The tent was crowded with half-undressed women, some preparing for bed, some of the guards preparing for a night on patrol.
They looked at me curiously, but I avoided their eyes and went straight to my little alcove and drew the curtain across. I could still hear voices and movements and noise, but I was alone at least.
The curtain twitched, and Cryalla’s face appeared. “Anything you need, Highness?”
Mutely, I shook my head and she disappeared, the skin curtain falling back into place.
Then Vhar-zhin materialised. “Did you find out…? Oh! Oh, Drina!”
She knew, of course. She could read my face better than anyone alive, better than Yannassia, even. She wrapped her arms around me and held me tight, rocking me like a child.
“It’s all right, Vhar,” I said, struggling free. “I’m fine.”
“Are you?” Her voice was puzzled, as if it was impossible for a woman to have sex with a man and be fine about it. “I mean… he did not… pressure you?”
How to answer that? I hadn’t wanted it, but I hadn’t resisted, either. Neither of us had been able to resist. It had been frightening at the time, but I wasn’t angry or distressed by it. The fire still burned inside me, not the wild bonfire of earlier, but a steady glow. It warmed every part of me, so that I was more energised than I’d been for suns. I felt well again. No, I was not distressed.
“No, no. Truly, it’s fine.”
“Are you… Drina, you are not in love with him?” I shook my head, trying not to laugh. “Did it hurt? Was it horrid? Your first time… it must have been so awful.”
Awful? It had been a strange and terrifying experience, but I could hardly explain it. I didn’t understand myself what had happened. So I shrugged. “Dear Vhar, you must stop fussing. Sex is a perfectly normal thing, everybody does it, and I’ve been of age for three years now.”
She gaped at me, as if I’d said the moon was falling again.
When I was alone at last, I took off my tunic and trousers and my bloodied underthings, and put on the nightgown left out for me. Then I lay down. But I didn’t sleep. I thrummed with too much energy for that. I lay in the dark, as the tent quieted around me, feeling the warmth in my belly, and between my legs the stickiness of his seed mingled with my blood.
~~~~~
I’d been all for leaving as soon as it was light enough to see, but the diplomatic experts felt that our hosts might see that as a snub. The guards’ commander settled the matter by telling me sternly that his men would take it very badly if they had to walk up to the fortress on empty stomachs.
As soon as I entered the eating tent, I wished we’d kept to my original plan. To say there was a bit of an atmosphere would be an understatement. Ly-haam’s mother glared at me, the first sign of real emotion I’d seen in her, and several of the others looked sideways at me, before turning away. Clearly I was not supposed to get quite so intimate with their boy god.
Ly-haam himself was quiet, and mercifully free of the endless smiles, but he didn’t try to avoid me, coming straight to my side and sliding onto the bench beside me.
“Highness,” he said, with a touch of the hand to his forehead, a surprisingly formal greeting, considering. “You intend to leave as you have planned?”
“I do. We have completed the time allotted to our mission.”
“You go back to Kingswell?”
I nodded.
“You will tell your queen everything that you have seen here?”
Was there a slight emphasis on ‘everything’?
“I will tell the Drashona all that needs to be told.”
His brow furrowed a little. Then he nodded. “You will inform her of our wish to understand your magic?”
“I will tell her, but I do not believe it will help you. Our magic… does not travel well. There was an attempt to share the benefits with the coastal towns a few years ago, but it was not a success. Since then, we have kept it within the boundaries of Bennamore.”
He nodded solemnly. It was odd how changed he was. The bouncy, lively boy with the perpetual smile had vanished, and in his place was a serious and thoughtful young man. I liked him so much better this way. He seemed more real, not hidden behind a veneer of artifice.
Impulsively, I reached out to hold his hand. It was foolish of me, and his eyes widened at the touch but – nothing happened. Again, his forehead creased, and I was puzzled myself. After the dramatic effect he’d had on me only a few hours before, now there was nothing, just the warmth of his hand, the skin smooth. He was not a common labourer, that much was certain.
“I cannot advise you,” I said, “but it may be profitable for you to send an ambassador to the Drashona’s court, to discuss your proposal more fully. These things take time to come to fruition. The Drashona would need to learn a great deal more about your people before any arrangement could be made.”
We straggled back up the hill to the fortress, most of the guards striding ahead, the advisors and servants in the middle, while Vhar-zhin and her ladies ambled well behind. Ly-haam was again the only one of his people to accompany us, walking slowly and without energy just in front of Vhar-zhin. Crows fluttered nearby, alighting on a stone as we passed, then taking off and landing further up the hill. Watching us, always watching us.
Overhead, three eagles wheeled in the morning sun, their feathers touched with gold.
“They follow you everywhere. Which one of them is yours?” I asked mischievously.
“All of them,” he answered.
I had no idea whether he was joking or not.
~~~~~
When we returned to Kingswell, there was a formal session with Yannassia, with a whole gaggle of advisors, the interpreter and the guard commander all giving their reports, such as they were. No one had learned anything of interest from our hosts; all had the same uneasy feeling that we had revealed too much about ourselves.
Then Vhar-zhin and I, in private.
“So he did not measure up as a possible husband?” Yannassia said to Vhar-zhin.
She shuddered. “I did not like him at all. He was very… strange. He certainly showed no interest in me, although he was very polite. I am sure he had no thought of taking a wife. He gave no sign of it. We were quite misled about that, fortunately.”
And then Vhar-zhin left, and the two bodyguards, and it was just Yannassia and me. She poured wine for us both, and led me to a well-lit alcove with a seat curved around the interior. As with everything she did, the setting was deliberately chosen. No matter where I chose to sit, my knees almost touched hers, and she could read every movement of my hands, every nuance of my expression. There was nowhere here to hide, no possibility of prevarication.
“Now,” she said, settling herself on the seat, and arranging her skirts. “Tell me all about it.”
So I did. I told it baldly, without embellishment, but not hiding anything. There was no point. There could be no privacy in a skin tent with my bodyguard standing not ten paces away. She would have reported to the guard commander and he would have sent a message rider ahead to the Drashona with all the gory details.
Besides, if Yannassia thought badly of me, that was to my benefit. She might finally realise that I could never be her heir, that I was entirely unsuitable.
She sighed as she listened, but made no comment, and eventually my voice trickle
d into silence. Still she said nothing, not looking at me, her face pensive.
When the silence began to unnerve me, I said, “Are you disappointed in me?”
She looked up, puzzled. “Disappointed? Oh… no, not really. You are very young, and you have always been… hmm, more aware, shall we say, of the opposite sex.”
I suppose she was thinking of my handsome bodyguard, and there had been a couple of occasions before that – a fellow pupil at the scribery, and the son of a baker at my favourite pastry shop in town.
“Now, Vhar-zhin is quite different,” she went on. “She has never taken any interest in men at all. And Zandara approaches the matter with her usual well-planned efficiency.”
A cold fish, Zandara. She had already taken her first drusse and was newly pregnant, as part of her strategy to become heir by producing more children than the rest of us.
Yannassia sighed. “She is too like me, unfortunately. And as for Axandor…”
She didn’t need to say any more. If he failed to distribute his seed in every noble house in the realm, it wouldn’t be for want of trying.
“No, I am not disappointed,” she went on. “It is not ideal, of course, and by no means discreet, but you are an adult now, and there is something to be said for getting things out of the way in this tidy fashion, with someone who will not be crawling round your feet for evermore. Shall you wait to see if he has left you a child?”
“Oh no,” I said. “No, I took the herbs. I asked Cryalla.”
“Cryalla? Oh, your bodyguard. Well, that is probably for the best. But now that the wine is out of the barrel, so to speak, you might wish to think about the future. Taking a drusse, perhaps. A child or two, in time. There are several of the higher-ranking nobles who have intimated to me that they would be more than happy for one of their sons to oblige you in that way. You could take your pick, you know. I find Zandara odd in several ways, but planning such matters is very sensible and avoids any unexpected… um, accidents.”
The Fire Mages' Daughter Page 6