by G L Roberts
Bryn reached for Thalynder’s hand. “She loved you no less.”
“I know that.” Thalynder smiled. “She is where she was meant to be, and I have my own dragon. She chose me. That is something quite special, isn’t it?”
“Indeed,” Arryn said.
The elders and the company were now joined by the attendants that had accompanied the elders. They prepared an evening meal and while seeing to the food and comfort of their mistresses, they continued to stare at Bryn and the crown on her forehead. They bowed low when Bryn walked by them.
“You are revered,” Thalynder whispered to Bryn.
“I am feared. Do you fear me as well?”
“I do not fear my Bryn. Though I am a little afraid of Athebryn.”
“What do you fear from that woman?”
“Will she love me as my Bryn does?”
“No one can love you as I do. Fear not the Lady Athebryn and all she is made out to be. She is merely the stuff of legend and myth. I am the real woman, and I adore you.”
“Kiss me, my Bryn.”
“As you wish, My Princess.” Bryn took Thalynder in her arms and softly kissed Thalynder’s eager lips. She pulled on Thalynder’s lower lip with her own and felt Lynder’s breathy moan touch her tongue. She pressed her body against Thalynder. “I want you,” she whispered.
Thalynder looked around and saw that the rest of the company and the elders were busy with other distractions. She pulled at Bryn’s hand. “As you wish, My Lady.” She led Bryn outside and over to a stone hut that was empty. They walked inside and closed the heavy wooden door against the noise of the village. Thalynder untied the laces of Bryn’s bodice and ran her hands over the deep blue tunic. “You look tired, my Bryn.”
“I am, but there is enough energy in this body to set your skin to glow.”
“No, my Bryn. You will lie back, and I will give to you what you always give to me.”
“What do I give to you, my Lynder?”
“Great joy. Now please, not another sound.”
“But moaning against your skin is bliss,” Bryn said.
“If you must moan, you may do so, my Bryn. Only do not wake the dead.”
Thalynder lay Bryn down on the soft rabbit fur someone had left for their mistress. Thalynder wondered whose hut they were using, but soon the thought left her mind. She had Bryn’s over tunic off and could see Bryn’s nipples erect through the fabric of the under tunic. She pulled at the cloth with her fingers, rubbing Bryn’s nipples while doing so. Thalynder lifted the fabric up over Bryn’s hips and stopped. The soft downy hair that covered Bryn’s mound caught her attention, and she ran her fingers through the mass of curls.
“I love the way you react to my caresses,” she said. “Even the hair on your mound craves my touch.”
“You have never touched me like this before,” Bryn whispered.
“I should have. You are beautiful.” Lynder let her breath part the hair.
Bryn moaned and raised her hips.
“You like that?” Lynder asked.
The crown began to glow a soft pink.
“I think I have figured out the colors to the jewel,” Lynder said. “I would like to see if I am right.”
“How so?” Bryn asked, her voice low and thick.
“Well. If I touch you like I am, the jewel is pink. Soft and flesh colored like your skin. If I press my fingers to your skin like this, the jewel should change.” She pressed her two fingers onto Bryn’s mound just above her sex. The jewel darkened to the pink of a new rose.
“Hmm…do you suppose we’ll have the whole village at the window if the room fills with light?”
Bryn chuckled. “I would not care.”
Lynder kissed Bryn’s chin, her neck and down to her nipples. “I so love the color of your nipples. Let me remove this under tunic so that I may see my roses.”
“Roses in your garden. They grow this color for no other.” Bryn helped Lynder remove her under tunic. She lay there bare against the rabbit fur, her body flushed with desire.
“You always say the right things,” Lynder said. She kissed each nipple, pulling each with her lips. She felt Bryn move beneath her. “No, my Bryn. Do not move. I wish to please you.”
“I could not be more pleased.”
“No? I must try harder,” Lynder teased. She kissed Bryn’s belly button, pushing her tongue inside and then out to circle it. She traced her tongue down to the edge of Bryn’s mound. She breathed again on the hair, parting it and watching the curls spring back into place. The jewel at Bryn’s forehead remained a deep claret color. Lynder hitched up her own tunic and rubbed her own mound with her free hand. The room began to glow in a soft sunset orange, still not bright enough to bring unwelcome visitors to the hut. Lynder worked her own sex with her fingers and Bryn’s with her tongue.
As she felt Bryn drawing near to her climax, she increased the pressure on her own body. She wanted the timing to be perfect. The color in the room changed to a soft lavender. She used her tongue to apply pressure, and she heard Bryn begin to pant. Lynder quickened her movements, her fingers and tongue moving together. She felt the pulsing begin at her chin where it rested on Bryn. Bryn arched her back and let out the sweetest moan. Lynder’s own climax came under her fingers as her body pulsing against her hand. The jewel at Bryn’s brow pulsed slower and slower. The perfect purple glow of a cloudless winter sunset over water bathed the room. It reminded Lynder of the only sunset she had ever seen at the edge of the ocean. It was timeless and beautiful. She held her tongue still as Bryn’s body relaxed and then lifted up to meet Bryn’s eyes.
Bryn gave Lynder the gentlest of smiles. “My dearest love, you have been studying.”
Lynder moved up Bryn’s body to lie on top of her. “I have the best teacher,” she whispered. “That was the most wonderful color I think I have ever seen.”
“It is how you make me feel, my Lynder.”
The two women returned to the rest of the group, who whether out of politeness, or because they did not know the women had left them, said nothing about their absence. A meal was being set on the long benches, and the Elf-Sisters again sat on the smaller fur-covered benches. The sun tipped toward the horizon and would rest there for several hours.
“Do you doubt your ability to convince them of the need to fight, or to follow you as their leader?” Arryn asked Bryn. The group had gathered again in the meeting house. The sky outside had darkened. What began as a soft rain had turned into a torrent of wind and water.
“I am not a Queen. I do not wish to reign as one.” Bryn chuckled. “I am more concerned with the ability to convince them that there is need to defend against an enemy who thus far has only invaded the eastern coast.” In spite of the many days she had not slept, Bryn was alive with possibility. Thalynder sat at her feet, leaning against her knees. The elders relaxed enough to shed their fine outer furs and sit in front of the fire robed in the colors of the clanns. Lady Albistan was on the floor next to Thalynder. She chatted with her sister Lady Arlendyl about the days when as children they played in the meeting house. Bryn and Arryn discussed his need to return to his home and his clann elders to broach the subject of an army. His clann lived in the west as did the clanns of Lady Anestar and Lady Albistan. Those clanns had yet to encounter the Norsemen, nor witness firsthand the death and despair they inflicted upon the clanns in the north and east.
“You will need leave from my father,” Thalynder told Arryn. “You are still a captain in his guard.”
“I am. I will help him choose a new captain before I take my leave.”
“He may not release you.”
“Your father is a just man, Princess. He will understand my need to speak with my clannsmen.”
“Will your clann follow Lady Athebryn?” Lady Anestar asked.
“This company has seen what the Norsemen can and will do. The Picts have been subjected to countless years of terror at the hands of these Norsemen. I would think that in the least, we would
have my clann’s support.”
“It is true,” Gement said. “By now Rythale, young Rylan’s sister, will know your company rescued him. Rythale is herself a fierce warrior. She does her best to create as much trouble as possible for the Norsemen. Those Picts that are captured and survive to live as slaves, only do so because Rythale has taught them that to live is most important. Live to see another day, live to see justice served.”
“The sooner I meet with Rythale, the better,” Bryn replied. “Tomorrow, the dragon riders leave Skerrabrae. We must depart for the southern kingdoms and King Thamen. Princess Thalynder is honor bound to return to her father, as is Prince Malcolm. If all goes well, I will convene the first council before the next new moon.”
“Will the council meet here?” Thalynder asked.
“For the first meeting we will gather in Skiel. In time, Skerrabrae will again be the home of the council, but not now. Now is the time for gathering our armies and putting forth a plan.”
Chapter Four
The longship Heardred had sent to find his son was approaching the halfway point. From there the boat would begin to meet the summer fog that before now had kept the Norsemen confined to their own lands and waters. Navigating through the fog was treacherous even for those boats that carried the star finder. Tonight there was no fog, and the boat was not hurried. The men rowed with a steady rhythm. Seven more suns, and the boat would make land.
The eyes of the helmsman scanned the open water. He gazed overhead at the moonless night full of stars and corrected his course. The boat was heading for a small bay that had served his people for centuries as a place to slide up onto the shore undetected. From the inlet, the men could set inland and leave their boats untended and secure. He smiled thinking that the inhabitants of the land his people often invaded were too simple to explore their own shores. How easy, he thought. So easy it was almost not worth the effort. Still, his king wished to keep the island ever fearful, and thus the men made the crossing once or twice a year. This trip was the third, which in itself was unusual, and it was being made at the height of summer.
Prince Helstun had insisted on returning as the last of the winter’s clear skies gave way to the spring mists and fog. He had been gone for the entire spring and the first part of the summer. He was looking for something of value, the king had said. Now, Helstun’s return was overdue. What could cause the prince to risk setting out when the sky would be veiled and the sea covered in a blanket of fog? And what had kept him from returning to Götaland before now? The idea of the prince and his boat being lost at sea was not something that even remotely crossed the helmsman’s mind. It was unheard of in Götaland. The helmsman rested back against the stern of the boat and listened as the oars dipped into the water.
The company rose early. Bryn was already on the hill with the dragons. She did not sleep, but her heart was light and her mind rested. She used this quiet time to greet each dragon by its name in dragon song and to touch each forehead. After she greeted each dragon, she and Meydra, IronHeart, An Yun, FireSong, Caraid, and NightWatcher moved away from the others to speak alone.
“Of our new friends, I will ask them to keep watch on all shores. My mind tells me that the Norsemen are already on the sea and approaching Alban. We cannot linger here another day,” she said. “The company of dragon riders must set out today. We have the ponies to consider and the elders as well.”
“The elders have their attendants to mind your ponies,” IronHeart said. “Allow the dragons to take you where you wish to go.”
“You are eager to begin this war,” Bryn said to IronHeart. “You feel the need to move quickly.”
“I do. Long have I heard the cry to battle in my rider’s heart. Prince Malcolm is a warrior and longs for the smell of death.”
Bryn thought over IronHeart’s words. She too was eager to set Alban to blaze with renewed courage. Nevertheless, there was still much that needed to be done before any conflict could be considered. She needed to consult with the riders. She touched IronHeart’s cheek. “Soon we will be face-to-face with the enemy. I do agree with you, and I too feel the need to move quickly. I will speak with the other riders.” She turned to Meydra. “Speak with our new friends. Use your judgment and set them high to watch all coasts, but especially the east. Trouble will start when the Norsemen discover the burned-out hulls of the boats we left at the mouth of Loch Nis, that and the bodies of their kin. They will have to return to Götaland to report what they have observed and then, my dear friend, we will see the true nature of the beast.
“Go now all of you. Befriend the new dragons. Learn from them. Learn their names, where they have been living, what they have witnessed. There may be one among them that has laid eyes on the King of Götaland and his armies.” She leaned her forehead against Meydra’s and the jewels in their crowns touched sending out small rays of brilliant white light to the small group of dragons. In her heart, she spoke to Meydra alone.
Find the one with the troubled heart.
I too have heard his words, My Lady. He is angry.
This I felt. He must be encouraged to remain calm and follow your lead, High Dragon.
He will be made to understand.
Bryn left the dragons and went back to the village.
Arryn and Malcolm had watched Bryn ascend the hill and greet the new dragons. They talked briefly about the presence of so many dragons and the benefit it could bring the company.
“And do not forget how it could strengthen our armies,” Malcolm said. “As a captain you must see the advantage of so many dragons.”
“Do you forget that it is the first rule of the dragons not to harm humankind?” Arryn asked.
“What harm is there in lending us their eyes and ears?”
“So long as it is only their eyes and ears,” Arryn replied. “To force them to fight for us would be to dishonor their ancestors. It would bring shame to them.”
Malcolm scoffed. “Is that all you Druids think about? Ancestors, old code of honor, the dead?”
“It is what binds us together. A bond with the earth, sea, sky, and all that inhabit them. It will outlive your kind.”
“We shall see, my friend.” Malcolm patted Arryn on the shoulder. “Lady Athebryn approaches. Do you think we leave Skerrabrae today?”
“From the look on her face, we leave before midday. And I am guessing we leave the horses behind.”
Malcolm laughed. “Oh, you will love traveling by way of dragon.”
Bryn approached the two men and spoke before they could. “Gather the company in the meeting house. I must speak first with Gement. I shall join you in a moment.”
Arryn touched his fist to his chest while Malcolm bowed his head slightly. Bryn walked quickly toward the stone hut where Gement had spent the night.
The company gathered together in the meeting room. Without the rest of the group that had occupied the house the previous day, Bryn could tell they felt more like the company that had bonded on the journey. The easy way they had with each other was more evident when they were alone. They did not have to put on the face of the clanns or realms that they wore for the elders. Alone they were a unit, each member the strength of the other.
The sun filled the space through tiny holes placed high in the walls of the room. Little shafts of morning sunlight filtered through the residual haze of the shimmering embers of the previous night’s fire. Bryn stepped over to the fire pit. She greeted each member with a smile and a hug. Until that moment, she had only hugged Thalynder and on rare occasions, Arryn. This morning she hugged them all.
“My dear friends,” she began. “It is not an official meeting of the council, yet I have need of your advice.” She stopped. “Wait. Where is Leus?”
Malcolm cleared his throat. “I meant to get him, but when I saw Thalynder and told her of your wish to meet, I forgot.”
The jewel in the crown flashed briefly. “Go now and find him. I want all the traveling company present.”
Malcolm qu
ickly left the room. Bryn took Thalynder’s hand and kissed her palm. “Your beauty distracts all of us. Did you sleep well, Highness?”
Thalynder grinned broadly. “I always sleep well with you at my back, My Liege.”
Arryn chuckled. “You have a new game.”
“None of your teasing,” Thalynder said. “We are merely addressing each other as is required by propriety, Knight.”
“If that is what you wish, Your Highness. Am I to address you as Queen Athebryn, or Lady Athebryn, or perhaps Jewel of Fire?”
“Why Jewel of Fire?” Kenna asked.
“If you did not notice how the jewel at our Lady’s forehead flickered when she told Malcolm to retrieve the elf, you missed a small fiery display,” Arryn said.
Kenna giggled. “Remind me never to cross you, Lady Athebryn.”
“Please, dear friends, when we are alone, I am Bryn. When we begin as the council and must address the clanns, you may find it easier to refer to me as Lady Athebryn.”
Leus entered the room as Bryn was speaking. “But you are Queen Athebryn,” he said. “Why would you request to be called Lady Athebryn?”
“For the same reason your mother, Lady Adhar, wished to be called Lady and not Queen even though she is the rightful queen of your kin. Without demeaning the title, queen belongs to the non-Druid kingdoms. The Druids never embraced the terms king and queen.”
Malcolm walked in behind Leus and over to Bryn. He bowed his head. “I apologize for the oversight, Lady Athebryn. It will not happen again.”
“I know.” Bryn reached out to touch Malcolm’s arm. “Now, let us sit. I have need of your advice.”
The meeting of the company though brief, accomplished three things. One, when with anyone outside of the company, Bryn was to be addressed as Lady Athebryn as befitting her crown. The same respect paid her as all the others in the company: Prince Malcolm, Princess Thalynder, Lady Kenna of the Bridei, Lord Arryn of the Epidii and Leus, Prince of the Umbriel Forest. Arryn suggested that he be called Sir Arryn so as not to confuse the lower kingdoms, but Bryn wanted all to recognize Arryn’s clann and his position in that clann.