The Third Corridor

by The third corridor (NCP) (lit)

  She had to stop this insane Challenge.

  But how?

  Jerad entered the dwelling and sank into the chair in front of his escritoire. He propped his elbows on the surface and dropped his forehead to his hands. His mood was thick with uneasiness at the impending Challenge, and with agitation that Mekal escorted Sera home--that she left without him.

  Sera stood at the garden doors and stared at the splashing waterfall, as if it would wash away her woes. She was tormented by the possibility that Jerad might be taken from her, that his life might be ripped away.

  If Aryan wanted the marriage dissolved, so be it. Jerad would have no reason to fight if she refused to be Jerad’s wife.

  "It was not proper that you left my side, woman."

  Sera took a deep breath. What she was about to do was appalling. She bit back her guilt reminding herself that she was saving his life. "It seems that you have failed to tell me much about what is proper in this god forsaken place!"

  "Why are you annoyed with me, woman?"

  I’m afraid for you, Jerad.

  "Because," Sera stiffened.

  "Ah, that does make it clearer to me." He stood and crossed the room until he reached her. Sera turned to face him.

  "I am likely to return to Gaia. What if I am already married? What if I have children? Have you thought of that?" She lifted her chin a notch and crossed her arms.

  "Are you? Do you?" It was something Jerad had not even considered.

  Sera lowered her eyes. What was she feeling...innocence?

  In clipped pictures, two faces came to mind. She recalled the pain of a disastrous relationship, did not remember passion, only contempt. The second and more recent left her feeling empty. While thinking of either of those faces, nothing in her stirred. She raised her eyes to Jerad, and oh, how everything in her stirred. Sera steeled herself against the emotion.

  "No, I don‘t believe I am married." She just could not deceive him about something like that.

  "Perhaps you have many lovers." He crooked a worried eyebrow. The idea of it disturbed him deeply. "The unruly promiscuity of some Origins is legendary."

  Sera frowned. Her body railed against the very idea of libidinous indiscretions. The thought of engaging in such actions felt immensely--foreign.

  "Well that would be a big myth," Sera mumbled under her breath. "At least concerning me."

  Jerad ran his thumb across her lips. He actually smiled.

  "I am glad of this Sera. As for the question of children, that can be easily examined."

  "Oh, no." She pulled back from him. "There will be no examining and no more touching!" She shook her head vehemently.

  He narrowed his eyes and firmly grasped her chin with one hand, tipping her head to search her eyes.

  She averted her gaze and groaned. Her heart began to ache.

  "Tell me what is wrong, Sera."

  "I want to go home," she lied. "On the next rise I will leave for Eksaf ‘anise and wait for my search party."

  "The Challenge is next rise."

  "There will be no Challenge if I refuse to be your wife."

  "What is this you are saying?"

  She moved away from him and began to pace the room. "You put me on display for the amusement of your people, made me a pawn to annul your betrothal, knowing full well there would be no other challenger." She stopped and glared at him. "You used me!"

  Jerad moved closer to her and folded her hands between his palms. "I did not mean to take unfair advantage of you, Starbird."

  "I will not take your Marks, Jerad!" The perilous words choked free of her throat. She pulled out of his grasp and stepped back.

  Jerad’s eyes flew wide. He stared at her. Sera’s eyes met his stark gaze.

  Her heart sank.

  The expression on his face--a twinge of anger mixed with hurt and confusion--it was dreadful. She tried to walk away again, but Jerad stalked after her. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around.

  "You will take my Marks."

  "Is that an order, sir!" Sera became incensed at his demand.

  Good.

  This might be easier if her own anger could be provoked.

  "You would dishonor me in this manner?" Jerad was stupefied. He shook his head. "Why Sera? Why do you refuse?"

  Sera tightened her lips and jutted out her chin defiantly.

  Because it would kill me if you died.

  "Because I don’t have to if I don’t want to!" She yelled and stomped her foot.

  Why did that come out sounding so childish?

  His anger emanated and he paced toward her, backing her against the wall. "That is worse than a betrayal!"

  Sera sucked in a breath. She had never witnessed his anger before. It was frightening, and it was all her fault.

  What if he hit her? Ochi, he would never hit her.

  "You will take my Marks, if I have to tie you to a column and sew your lips shut to keep you from protesting!"

  Sera began to quake. His bass voice was cavernous and rattling to her bones. "My strength for your honor! I could be dead on the next rise and you spurn my Mark?"

  A twinge of shame rushed through her gut. She resisted her mind’s plea to throw herself into his arms, to confess that she was baiting him, to admit her distress, her devotion. She hated what she was doing to him, what she was doing to them. Sera turned her head away.

  "I won’t do it."

  His expression hardened. "I will put you out of the castle to fend for yourself, strip your status, declare that you are used. Anyone who wished, Noble or otherwise could claim you and have his way with you."

  He lied.

  "Oh, another detail I see you forgot to tell me about!" Sera glared at him. "The only thing those Marks are good for is to hide these ugly scars!"

  She lied--again.

  To her, the Marks of Permanence were beautiful.

  Sera tamped down the thought and cast him a defiant look. She stomped to the couch and sat down. "I am going to sleep now."

  "You will not sleep on that. Now get into our bed." Jerad pointed toward the bedchamber, confused by her behavior.

  "No, I choose to sleep here," Sera stated firmly.

  "Perhaps you would prefer Mekal in your bed, woman?"

  "What?" She looked at him with utter dismay.

  Mekal? Should she drag him into this and let Jerad think-- no, she couldn’t do it. Not unless she had to.

  She hoped she wouldn’t have to.

  "Jealous?" Her mouth spewed the word before her brain could stop it.

  Jerad gritted his teeth. His body went rigid.

  He turned from her and went to a sideboard. He removed a decanter, popped it open and gulped until it was emptied. With a sideways toss, he threw it across the room. He spanned the room with three contentious steps.

  Jerad stilled before her, breathing arduously. He smoothed his hands beneath the collar of her bodice and caressed the back of her neck. Then he yanked her toward him.

  "Do you want me, Sera?" His voice was low and eerily calm. There was little inflection in its tone.

  She did, but she could not acknowledge it. She tried to free herself, but he swept an arm around her waist and crushed her against him.

  "I will not die without knowing the feel of my woman’s flesh." He turned her toward the couch, threw her down, and flattened her with his body. "I will have you now."

  Sera screamed and tried to escape from beneath him as he fumbled with the lacing of his trousers. "No, Jerad. Stop!"

  She managed to free her hands. Jerad closed his eyes just as Sera pressed her thumbs into his lids. He howled and pulled back. With one swift roll Sera was on the floor. She scrambled to her feet and ran toward the door. The blindness was only temporary, and Jerad, regained his sight quickly. He lunged at her and pinned her to the wall. He spun her around.

  "Am I so repulsive to you that you will not share my bed with me, wife?" Anger, doubt and hurt, mixed with the effects of the liquor coursed through his bloo
d. It was obscuring his judgment.

  Was he mistaken about the Edict?

  Was he mistaken about Sera?

  "Have I been a fool? Has Aryan unclouded my eyes?"

  Sera furled her brow. "I don’t understand."

  "Are you nothing more than a Seventh Zone whore?"

  Sera did not respond. If it would keep him safe, she would let him think as he wished.

  "Mayhap an emissary for the Fourth Zone?"

  Sera remained silent.

  Jerad pressed his palms against the wall, enclosing Sera between his outstretched arms. He tilted his head sideways, his face just a hairsbreadth from Sera’s.

  "Who sent you, Sera!" His words were hostile and grew deafening to her ears, but as quickly as his voice escalated however, it became subdued and daunting. "Whose bed will you share if I am downed by slaughter?"

  "No one’s!" she cried.

  Oh god! Don’t break now. Sera inhaled, held the air inside of her lungs briefly, and then released a quivering breath. She had to convince him their relationship was over. Sera pursed her lips and drew on the last bit of her reserve.

  "Then why do you refuse me?"

  "I am not your wife, and I never will be." Her gaze dropped to the floor. She dared not look him in the eyes for fear he would see the deceit in her words. "I don’t want you."

  "I--I don’t even like you very much," she whispered.

  Jerad stared at her incredulously for several heartbeats. Without warning he drew back his fist and slammed it into the wall behind her. It hit with such tremendous force the wall splintered.

  Sera’s mouth dropped open, but she could not speak. She could neither inhale nor exhale. It was as though she was bound at the neck.

  Jerad laughed mockingly--not at her, at himself for being such a fool.

  Sera gulped.

  She had driven him over the edge.

  Sera could bear no more. She was on the verge of tears. She pushed his arm aside and ran from the residence, through the castle passageways and out into the Corridor.

  Sera made her way to the agora, slowing her momentum as she reached the main commerce area. She mingled among the citizens hoping she could avoid drawing attention. She sighed with relief. The market was bustling with activity, and no one seemed to notice her presence among them.

  Now what? Where could she go? Eksaf ‘anise was the only logical choice. She would have to obtain a horse and provisions. She would also have to hire a guide because she did not know the way.

  Sera had no gemstones. She fled from Jerad without taking her cloak, desperate to escape him before she caved in to her emotions. She could not go back to retrieve it.

  Damn it. She hadn’t been thinking very clearly when she left.

  The sound of a lute diverted her attention. A young minstrel, poised upon the stump of a tree, was strumming a lovely melody. Sera moved closer to him, attracted by the wistful composition. The musician nodded his head to Sera and began playing a livelier tune. His voice chirped a song.

  "She came from a place far beyond to grace our humble land. She healed his soul and brought him home, and won our Noble’s hand."

  It only took a few seconds for Sera to realize that he was singing about her. When he finished, there was applauding behind her. Sera turned around. Every onlooker crossed a fisted arm and bowed to her. Sera grimaced.

  So much for being incognito.

  An elderly woman, cloaked and hooded approached Sera and knelt by her side. She placed an exquisitely delicate flower in Sera’s hand.

  "A precious Iris for you, my Noble, an offering from my garden. It will bless you with fortune and hasten your melancholy."

  Sera graciously accepted the flower and sniffed it.

  Was her sadness that obvious?

  "It’s lovely. Thank you."

  The woman grabbed Sera’s other hand, and looked up at her hopefully. "A blessing from my Chancellor’s lady?"

  Sera observed the feeble woman and frowned. What could she possible say to appease her?

  "Uh," Sera hesitated, "health and wealth?"

  "Thank you my lady of the Greathouse, thank you, thank you." The woman kissed Sera’s hand repeatedly, and then gave her a toothy smile before backing away.

  The sky suddenly grew dark and all heads turned upward. Though it was only just nearing full set, ominous gray clouds converged, shrouding what was left of the light from the rise. Thunder crackled and lightening burst. The assemblage in the marketplace scattered. Doors slammed and shutters snapped shut. Within moments the agora was deserted and Sera stood alone.

  "How prophetic." Sera grumbled and rushed toward the nearest shelter she could find, a gazebo in the middle of a flowering garden. She lapsed to the wooden floor. Rain began gushing from the heavens. Sera cried out and wept in concord with the abysmal skies.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jerad sat on the floor propped against the wall. His legs were outstretched to their full length and his head drooped heavily to his chest. His arms were limp at his sides. He grasped a half-empty decanter. Some of its contents puddled on the floor next to him.

  There was a pounding on the door.

  Or was it inside his skull?

  Jerad lifted his head and stared at the door. He grimaced. His head rolled forward and fell once again to his chest. The pounding sounded again. He threw back his head, banging it on the wall behind him.

  "Ack! Enter!" He snapped.

  The door creaked opened and Mekal stepped in. He paused, and then scoffed at the heap of Nobleman, slumped on the floor.

  "Disgraceful." Mekal shook his head from side to side. "What a sight this will make on the walls of my gallery."

  "Mekal." Jerad closed one eye. "Stop moving, both of you."

  "Come then, up we go." Mekal crouched to help Jerad to his feet, but before the two of them were fully upright, the drunken knight fell forward and landed on top of Mekal.

  "Kiss me or get off, my drunken filos."

  Jerad rolled to his back. Mekal pulled him to his feet and threw one of Jerad’s arms around his shoulder. Jerad’s knees started to crumple, but he caught himself and stiffened. He broke free from Mekal. Swaying, he bent and picked up his carafe. Mekal snatched it before it reached Jerad’s lips.

  Mekal took a hearty drink from it and set it down.

  Jerad‘s body teetered, but Mekal caught him. He dragged Jerad to the garden pool, and dropped both of them to their knees. Mekal shoved Jerad’s head into the water, and then pulled him out by the hair.

  "Mekal," Jerad choked.

  "Nai, a good rise to you too."

  He submerged Jerad’s head again.

  Jerad’s hand came back to grab at Mekal, but before it made contact Mekal jerked Jerad back, this time setting him on his rump. In a surrendering gesture, Jerad held up his hands. He rose clumsily and stumbled back to his bottle of drink, attempting another round.

  Mekal came up from behind him and yanked it away. "Let us walk. Shall we?"

  He braced Jerad’s sagging form against him and they circled the room several times, until Jerad’s weighty bulk began to exhaust Mekal. He released the drunken warrior. Jerad staggered backwards, tumbled over the sofa and onto the floor.

  He grumbled an oath.

  Mekal moved to the other side of the couch, and helped Jerad up. Jerad gripped Mekal’s shoulders, swaying as he attempted to focus on his friend’s face.

  "Are you here to abuse me?"

  "Of course."

  "Aryan is a great warrior." Jerad’s vision reeled and he closed his eyes. He drew a deep, exasperated breath and sank into the oversized chair. "I fear my annihilation draws near."

  Mekal settled onto the sofa and propped his foot on the opposite knee. "He is no greater a swordsman than you, Jerad."

  "Nai, it is true, but I am drunk."

  "As is Aryan. I just came from his dwelling."

  Jerad lifted his bloodshot eyes to Mekal. "How so?"

  "He wishes not to challenge you."


  "Then why does he?"

  "You know the answer as well as I, Noble. His clan seeks it and he is fiercely loyal to his clan. They refuse to believe in Sondra’s disreputable behavior."

  "Sondra is dead. It cannot be undone."

  "And most believe it could not have ended any other way, filos."

  "I do know this, as I believe Aryan does, but he will still make a good show of the Challenge."

  "Hmn," Mekal replied rubbing his chin. "Of that I have no doubt."

  He studied Jerad briefly. He had never seen Jerad quite so agitated. "Tell me Noble, it is unlike you to take to so much drink. What else troubles you?"

  "Did I react with haste, Mekal? Should I have wedded Sondra?"

  "Ack! Ochi! Sondra was a Gorgon!" Mekal released a strangled sound from his throat. "She would have stripped you of your flesh and fed it to you for supper."

  Jerad tangled his fingers through his hair and dropped his head to the back of the chair. "I took to drink last luna because I thought I had made a grave error thinking Sera was the Ptino asteri"

  "And now?"

  "She is the one. I have no doubt. Too much of the Edict is passing." A slight smile crested Jerad’s mouth as he recalled first meeting Sera.

  "When we were near the riseward boundary of the Eighth Zone, a Chuger appeared from behind a boulder, ready to be feasted on."

  Mekal raised an eyebrow. The animal that Jerad described dwelled nowhere near that area. They were typically found at least twelve rises further toward Landtrail.

  "And I swear on the souls of the Origins Mekal, the foolish animal looked as though it was about to stroll right up to her. It served us well for a decent meal where few creatures are known to wander. She has dominion over beasts, just as the Edict proclaims. Even my horse favors her more than me."

  Jerad frowned. "Sera left me, Mekal. She refuses to take my Marks."

  "And this disturbs you?"

  "It does not greatly disturb me." Even as he denied it, his chest squeezed with a heavy aching.

  "What does irk me is that it was I who was chosen to be bonded with her, as dictated by the Origins. It is blasted curse!"

  "A curse you say?"

  "Her blood surges through my veins. It consumes me. I felt it the moment she appeared in the air."