by Anny Cook
“What is a morkert? And while I admire your punishment, why is it considered a punishment to give up your chinkas? What is the significance of wearing their hair down?”
“Hmm. Those are good questions. A morkert is a lawgiver or justice. A warrior may train to be a morkert as one of his specialties. Morkerts wear special metal chinkas in place of the normal dark gray ones denoting their rank.”
“It’s one of your specialties, I guess?”
Arturo nodded. “For a warrior, chinkas are their identity. Boys receive their first chinkas at six years of age. Until then, they wear their hair down, so the chinkas serve as a sign of maturity. Taking their chinkas away is akin to saying that they are little children too young to train as warriors.” He idly stirred his tea as he considered. “It was a serious punishment for a serious offense. They violated two points of the warrior code. No lying. No stealing. It was a just punishment.”
“I agree completely,” Bishop assured him. He looked around carefully before asking, “What kind of dog is that that follows Wrenna around? And those cats out on the front porch are the biggest damned cats I’ve ever seen.”
Wrenna choked on her tea, setting off a violent coughing fit. Her eyes watered and tears streamed down her face. When she could finally breathe again without coughing, Arturo handed her a cool damp napkin to wipe her face.
Bishop gave her a bewildered look. “What did I say?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” she replied with a laugh.
“Wrenna has a dinti,” Arturo explained. “Dintis choose their human, usually a woman, to mentor. They are one of the four sacred sentient beings listed on the Talking Wall. Twice a year dintis present themselves to the shearer and then their hair is spun into yarn used exclusively for the bonding blankets. The other sentient beings are packits, like the ones you observed napping on the front porch, firkas and drangs. Packits choose males to mentor. The packits you mentioned are Tyger’s and Llyon’s. Firkas look a little like mice and mostly live in gardens and keep them weed- and bug-free. Those are the beings you will probably encounter. The last one, a drang, no one has seen in living memory. It’s a small dragon.”
“Why do you suppose no one has seen a drang?” Samara wondered.
Arturo shrugged. “Tradition says that a drang will mentor the high clan chief. We haven’t had a high clan chief in two hundred years. No one knows whether we don’t have one because there is no drang, or if there is no drang because we don’t have a high clan chief.”
Bish nodded understanding. “Kind of the peekie and egg thing. Which came first?”
“I like that analogy.” Samara sighed and pushed back her chair. “I need to be going. Thank you for the tea, Arturo.”
Bish jumped to his feet and followed her down the hall. “Samara, is it? I’m Bishop Llewellyn.”
“Nice to meet you, Bishop.”
“Can I walk you home?” he offered diffidently.
She studied the man looming over her in the dim hallway and slowly shook her head. “Not today. I have too many commitments today and this little break in the schedule has set me behind. Perhaps after the Mid-Summer Gathering, we can tour the village, if you wish.”
“I would like that.” He ushered her out to the porch and stood watching her walk across the central green until she disappeared behind a line of singing red-needled pines. Sighing quietly, he returned to the kitchen.
Wrenna was gone. Arturo murmured something about her spending time with Traveller, so Bishop decided that he would pick Arturo’s brain. Arturo, of all of his new nephews, seemed to be both quiet and strong. “Do you have time for more questions?” he inquired.
“Of course. Please, sit down. Do you mind if I cook while we talk?”
Chapter Ten
For several days, Trav apathetically accepted whatever his caretakers offered. His bones were beginning to knit together and they no longer ached like fire. Llyon had healed his internal injuries to the point that he was no longer in danger of dying. But he barely cared whether he lived or died. These people were strange beyond comprehension. They fed him odd food, offered strange treatments and refused to answer his questions. He’d kind of gotten used to the company of Wrenna, who turned out to be a tiny red-haired woman, but she’d been gone for a week without even saying good-bye. When he asked about her, somebody just mumbled something about mid-summer. He closed his eyes to shut out the alien surroundings.
Just as he was drifting into the more comfortable landscape of his dreams, his petite companion came in and began removing his bedding. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked angrily as she whipped off the sheet he clutched in his weak grasp, leaving him naked.
Wrenna fought back a smile. “Dai and Llyon say it’s time to start exercising those muscles,” she replied briskly, completely ignoring his state of undress.
“Get out! Leave me alone! Can’t you see I don’t have any clothes on?”
She stopped what she was doing and gave him a very slow, thorough inspection from head to toe. He’d lost some weight but he still had a fine set of muscles, especially that thick cock between his legs. “Very nice. Too bad it doesn’t work,” she lamented, ignoring the slow, wet curl of heat centered between her damp thighs. He certainly was a beautiful man.
He rolled over, turning away from her gaze, unmindful that he now presented her with an interesting new vista for inspection. “Get out now!”
She watched his taut butt clench and twitch. Oh, yeah, he needed to get well in a hurry! “When you can get out of that bed and make me leave, you will be able to make the decisions. Until then, we will have the exercises,” she stated firmly. “Do you wish to start on your stomach or your back?” Her fingers were itching to touch him anywhere at all.
Like a small sulky child, he refused to answer, so she decided to begin just as he was. After gathering up his beautiful light auburn hair in a single braid, she pulled it to the side, resolving to wash it for him later in the week. Removing her meerlim to keep it from getting stained by the quoltania oil, she climbed up on the gently swinging bed and carefully straddled his waist. Pouring a small amount of warm oil in the palm of her hand, she proceeded to smooth it over his back, massaging it in slow, soothing motions. Touching him almost became a hypnotic exercise. Her breasts swelled and ached for his touch as her nipples crinkled into tight little nubs. When she was done with his back, she moved on down his body, rubbing her wet pussy over the rise of his ass until she straddled his hard legs. Her breasts brushed against him as she bent over him, working the oil into the curves of his butt, smoothing the long, tight muscles in his legs, one taut section at a time, until she finished at his feet. Drawing a deep breath in preparation, she patted his butt and directed, “Time to turn over now.”
Traveller had been slowly realizing that all this slow, sensual rubbing of his body by a naked woman was giving him the hard-on from hell. Her damp pussy slithering down his back had nearly given him a heart attack. Damned if he was going to roll over, waving his cock in the air! “I don’t think so, sweetheart. Just leave me like this!”
“I told you the rules. Until you can enforce what you want, we will do things my way. Turn over!” Sternly, she controlled her expression, well aware of his state.
All right! he thought. Let’s see how she deals with a hard cock! Rolling onto his back, he sprawled with his legs spread out and his cock and balls on clear display. He was unprepared for what he saw. Wrenna knelt at his feet stark naked and obviously aroused by her ministrations.
Wrenna! Are you trying to kill me? he demanded soundlessly.
She tilted her head and stared back at him with a slight smile. Just remember it goes both ways.
Completely ignoring his bobbing erection with heroic willpower, Wrenna crawled up next to his rib cage. She straddled his waist and began massaging his chest, lingering over the smooth muscles and savoring touching his skin. Skating lightly over his hard pointed nipples, resisting the urge to take them in her mouth,
she moved down to his belly, and allowed the soft silky petals of her pussy to close around his velvety cock. He groaned and reached for her taut pert nipples and gently tweaked them. After a few minutes she sighed regretfully and moved on down his sore legs carefully massaging the tight muscles all the way to his feet. By the time she finished, he was drowsily sliding toward sleep, even though his cock was as hard as rock. She stared at his cock with longing, her mouth watering with desire. Silky cream slid from her pussy, dampening her thighs.
He heard the rustle of the sheet, then the soft sensation of it sliding up his legs. Suddenly, he felt a warm, wet mouth engulf his penis, suckling it gently and he was shocked wide awake. Her tongue curled around the sensitive crown and then with agonizing slowness, she released him, placed a soft kiss on the head, covered him, slipped down from the high bed, grabbed her meerlim and walked away.
“What the hell was that?” he yelled after her.
She poked her bright head around the door, gave him a sweet smile and said, “A reward for cooperating. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow.” And then she wondered if she was going to die from frustration before he was on his feet. There was no question in her mind or body. He was her bond mate.
* * * * *
At Elyria, Jade and Merlyn lay in the bed spoon fashion cuddling after the fiery stress and exertion of schalzah. His cock pulsed deep within her, in unison with her heartbeat. He played very gently with her breasts, which were very tender and sensitive. Involuntarily, she squeezed those internal muscles, teasing him with a rippling, tickling massage. He laughed very softly in her ear. “Jade, my love, after all these years, you still have the tightest, most exciting pussy a man could imagine.”
“Mmm. Well, you have a pretty vivid imagination.” She held his hands still over her nipples, simply enjoying the feel of the hard points against the centers of his palms. “I’m so glad that the Mid-Summer Gathering is over. I must be getting too old, because I’m exhausted. We barely arrived here in time.”
“Well, we did to my great amazement. I’m getting too old for that, sweetheart. That’s for the young whippersnappers like Dancer and Eppie. I thought I was going to have a heart attack!”
She giggled and he felt the snug nip of her schela around his cock head. “Darling, just think, isn’t that every man’s fantasy out-valley? Death by sex?”
“That’s because they’ve never been through schalzah!” he said with feeling. “I could lie like this with you for the rest of my life and be content. Schalzah is another thing entirely.” He rocked his hips gently tugging against the pressure of her schela. The delicious friction sent another ripple through her vagina and she moaned quietly. He chuckled again as he remembered one of his favorite memories from the Gathering.
“What?” she asked, just a little breathless.
“Mmm. Just remembering something.”
“What!”
“The latest saga with Llynx and Panther.”
She turned her head, wishing she could see his expression and felt him smiling against her cheek. “Now what?” she asked with a sigh.
“I didn’t tell you because you were tired and busy but it seems that they helped themselves to one of Trav’s photographs and took it to their calligraphy class with them. Samara confiscated it and accompanied them home after class. Arturo happened to be the one that caught this one and he handled it very, very well.”
“He’s very levelheaded about anything other than his own recovery,” Jade observed sadly. “I don’t think he’ll ever face that.”
“He will. Dai is going to take him down to the Retreat when things settle down. You’ll see, love. He’ll recover.”
“I’m not sure he’ll ever give his heart again, even if he takes up hunting and exploring again.” She snuggled closer to Merlyn’s warm hairy chest and sighed. “So tell me how he solved his dilemma.”
He slipped a gentle hand across her flat belly and massaged the cradle where their babies slept. “Well, you know those boys never admit what they’ve been up to. Arturo fussed at them for lying and then got them to admit that they had taken the photo from Trav’s bags.”
“Oh, no. They didn’t touch anything else, did they?” Placing her palm over his hand, she slipped her fingers between his.
“Nope. And we moved the bags into my office. Arturo locked the door so they can’t go in there—even if they’re inclined to try, though I doubt that.”
“So what happened?” she asked anxiously.
“Arturo slipped on his morkert hat and formally sentenced them. Two eight-days without their chinkas and braids. And they were forbidden to attend the Gathering and he directed them to sit in the open doorway of Wrenna’s pottery so that everyone could see them.”
“Holy cow!” she whispered in awe. “How did they take that?”
He chuckled next to her ear, tickling the sensitive skin behind her ear. After nipping her earlobe, he explained, “Bishop was present and Arturo asked him to stand as witness for the sentencing. They were suitably chastened—at least for the rest of the eight-day so you can let up a little on your worry about Arturo. He’s not going to try Tyger’s solution.”
“Suicide? No, he better not. I couldn’t bear that. I’ve barely recovered from the narrow escape we had with Tyger and Llyon. You know? I’m more worried about Arano.”
Merlyn froze in place and asked, “Why? I respect your instincts but what do you know?”
“He’s hiding,” she said flatly.
“Hiding? He’s been hiding since his first vision at six.”
“Not like this. And why didn’t he warn us about Trav and Bishop coming? I’ll tell you why—he’s doing something that’s distracting him.”
“Sweetheart, what could possibly distract him from a vision?”
“Use your senses, Merlyn! Find him.”
Immediately, Merlyn opened his senses and sent out a mental summons to Arano, fully expecting an immediate answer. Much to his shock, not only did Arano not answer the summons but he had hidden his presence and location in the valley. Only two of his children actually had the capability to hide from him—Llyon, because he was a High Healer, soon to be a Master Healer, and Arano because he was a Master Seer. But after the attack on Arturo, all of his children knew better than to even try to hide.
Dai! Where is Arano?
You have so little to keep you busy? I don’t know where he is but I will find him if you wish. Dai’s dry wit chided Merlyn. What is the problem?
He’s hiding.
Frowning, Dai sent out his own mental search, duplicating Merlyn’s efforts and was deeply disturbed when he couldn’t locate him. You’re right. I will go find him immediately. This is most unlike him. You concentrate on Jade. By my calculations you should be going into burda soon.
Merlyn’s sigh was so heartfelt that Dai felt it even in mind speech. It’s beginning already. Please find Arano for us so we can focus on the babies.
I will take care of it. Never fear.
When Dai finally located Arano, he was stretched out on the stone bench next to the pool at pledging circle five. It was nearly twilight and the huge stone sentinels guarding the circle threw long dark shadows across the pool and clearing. Dai sat down on the cool grass and quietly observed, “So this is where you’ve been hiding.”
“Uh-hmm.”
Dai frowned down at his dusty bare toes. “Why? Why hide from your parents or me?”
Arano sat up, shoved his dark braids back over his shoulder and coolly inquired, “Am I a man, Dai?”
After some thought, Dai cautiously agreed, “Yes.”
“And yet, you have come to find me as though I was a small child.”
“You know what happened to Arturo!” Dai protested.
“I am not Arturo.”
The knowledge behind the quiet statement caught Dai’s attention. As calmly as possible, he acknowledged, “I know you are not Arturo. I held you in my arms fresh from your mother’s womb the day you and Arturo were born. I na
med you.”
“Then you will understand that I am tired of being confused with Arturo. He’s my brother, my twin but not me. We have no twin-bond. We are very different and we would like to be able to have our own lives.” Arano leaned down so that he was eye to eye with Dai. “I know better than anyone how devastated Arturo was. I’m the one who listened to his nightmares. I’m the one who held him when he cried at night. Neither of us needs to be daily reminded of his rape.”
“No one does that,” Dai argued hotly.
“Don’t they? Everyone walks around us like we’re walking wounded. Poor Arturo!” Arano sneered. “You wonder why he retires to our room? It’s because he can’t stand to see the expression on your faces! He won’t ever get better because no one will let him!” Arano got up and stalked around the clearing. “Did you know that his students are afraid to touch him? The simplest touch during training is not possible.”