by Jean Lorrah
Aradia laughed. “The glamorous occupation of ruling a land. No, I’m not laughing at you. I’m remembering two years ago, when in the worst heat of the summer, Wulfston and I had to go out among the swine to stop an epidemic of running sores. It was bad enough going into the mud wallows, enduring the stink, but there were also clouds of stinging flies. I could keep them off me until I would focus on healing an animal. Then, while I was concentrating, the flies would settle all over me.” She shook herself as if shaking off the insects. “I prefer a nice comfortable job like cleaning out sewers.”
They reached another clog in the pipe. Lenardo Read it carefully and said, “There’s a pocket of explosive gas here.”
“Explosive gas?”
“Yes, the matter in the pipes creates it. Occasionally, we find a spot like this, so airtight that the gas has not leaked away over the years. There’s a huge pocket of it under Southgate, where the culvert out of the city collapsed years ago. It’s very deep underground.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Not so long as no spark of fire can get at it. One day, when we begin work in that area, we’ll have to put a shaft down and release the gas. But doing that before we’re ready to work there would create a dangerous constant gas leak. It’s better left alone.”
“How do we get rid of the pocket of gas here?”
“I’ve been marking such places to be dug up with caution, for one spark-”
“I understand. But I can make a crack in the earth to release the gas. Show me where.”
Under Aradia’s concentration, the paving stones separated, forming an uneven line not wide enough to insert a finger.
“Now the pipe,” said Lenardo. “A small crack won’t harm its function.” A snap rose from the fissure, followed by a soft whoosh of released gas. Aradia, who had been holding her breath, sniffed cautiously. “I don’t smell anything.”
“Marsh gas,” said Lenardo. “It forms in mines sometimes, too. The fact that it’s odorless makes it very dangerous. It takes a Reader to detect it.”
His heart gave a heave of guilt as he suddenly realized how careless he had been today. It had not occurred to him to test whether he still had the sensitivity to distinguish gases-and if he had not, he could have blown up himself, his work crew, AradiaHe swallowed hard and made a mental note to test himself before taking on any more “routine” tasks. Aradia, meanwhile, cleared the pipe and let the earth settle back over it. They continued on, talking as they worked, as much in harmony as if yesterday had never happened.
Lenardo was so busy Reading the pipes under the street that he was not Reading Aradia, nor was he paying attention to the time. The afternoon dwindled into shadow as the sun dropped behind the buildings, although there was still sunlight in the open forum they approached. An entire street done in one afternoon; if, that is, they cleared one more blockage.
“This is the last one,” Lenardo said as he chalked the marks to guide Aradia.
For the first time, instead of Reading on ahead, he watched her. She was wearing a pale wheat-colored silk dress, the same color as her hair, no robe over it, as she had come out in the warmth of the afternoon. Now Lenardo saw her shiver slightly. Yet he was not cold, even barelegged and bare-chested. Aradia’s body was exhausted.
It had not occurred to him to keep watch on Aradia the way he did on Vona. This work should have been nothing to her strength. Her powers were diminished just as his were. Why hadn’t she said something?
“Aradia, that’s enough,” he said. “You’re worn out.”
“Oh, no,” she replied. “Why, this much I can-” She staggered, half fainting.
Lenardo caught her, held her against him to support her, panic rising and then subsiding as her heart recovered its strong, steady beat. She clung to him for a moment and then stood on her own. He saw that the grime on his body from the dusty, sweaty work he’d been doing had transferred itself to her cheek, her hands, and all down the front of her dress.
When she realized what had happened, Aradia laughed. “I’m sorry,” Lenardo began.
“It’s nothing,” she replied. “I can clean the dress, but tomorrow, I think. For myself, I’ll make use again of your luxurious bathhouse.”
“It’s just closed,” he said. “I’ll have water brought-” “Lenardo,” said Aradia, “that is your bathhouse. You can use it any time you want, and I doubt that ever in your life have you needed it more.”
He was far dirtier than she was, although it was certainly not the first time. Ordinarily, he stopped early enough to use the last half hour of the men’s time in the baths.
“These are no attendants now, but you’re right, of course. There’s no reason I can’t go in and scrub off this grime.” “Good,” she said. “I’ll get a clean dress and meet you there.” She set off toward her pavilion.
Lenardo went for clean clothes and then got the key to the bathhouse from the attendant, who took one look at him and made no query as to why he wanted it. The only reason the bathhouse was locked at night was Lenardo’s fear that children might sneak in and drown. Unlike the small bathhouse at the Academy, this one had a frigidarium pool big enough to swim in.
There were a number of changing rooms, but Aradia followed Lenardo into one near the hot bath. Having done plenty of sweating in his work today, he planned simply to scrub off the grime and then take a brief swim.
When Aradia hung her clean clothes on the peg beside his, he said, “Uh… do you want to bathe first, Aradia? I’ll go and-”
“There are no attendants, Lenardo. We’ll have to attend each other.” “Aradia, surely-”
“Lenardo, when you can Read right through clothing, how can nudity mean anything to you? How can you be so modest?”
“After yesterday, how can you ask such a thing?” he asked bitterly, immediately regretting having brought up the subject.
He had turned away from her. Aradia circled him until they were face to face. “You know I wanted you, or I could have stopped you. It shouldn’t have happened that way, Lenardo, but I wanted it to happen. And you promised you wouldn’t hurt me again. I believe you.”
I’ll never touch you again! he thought, but she was the one touching him, her hand on his arm, on the dragon’s-head brand. It seemed to leap into flame.
Aradia was looking up at him expectantly. “Come on,” she said. “I’ve scrubbed your back before. Now it’s your turn to scrub mine.”
How could she be so casual? Perhaps because she was too tired to feel desire, she thought that he was. He couldn’t seem to convince anyone that Reading took no energy, and today he had done only half the physical labor he was capable of.
Although the furnace had been banked for the night, the water in the caldarium was still quite warm. Totally un-selfconscious, Aradia plunged into the water, emerged, and began lathering her body with the soap that was so plentiful in the savage lands. Lenardo remained soaking, stretching his muscles, until Aradia said, “You promised to scrub my back.”
He hadn’t, but he couldn’t decide whether it would be more embarrassing to argue with her or do as she asked. Then he realized that she was making a gesture of trust. Perhaps she knew that he needed to prove to himself that he could touch her without erupting into mindless lust.
He climbed out of the pool and lathered her back and shoulders, being very careful to remain as detached as when, as a young teacher, he had sometimes had to scrub the smallest boys at the Academy, for budding Readers showed the same affinity for mud as any other little boys.
When he did not go beyond the slender contours of her back, Aradia relaxed against his hands. “Rub harder. Oh, that feels good.”
He kneaded her shoulders, Reading the tenseness of the muscles give way. She seemed to be bouncing back from her exhaustion; perhaps a meal and a night’s sleepShe turned in his arms and said, “My turn,” starting to lather soap onto Lenardo’s chest.
“That’s not my back.”
“Oh, but you are dirty all over
,” she replied, reaching up to work the soap through his hair and beard. “I know how to do it. I’ve bathed you before-remember?”
“At the time, I couldn’t stop you.”
“Do you want to stop me now?” Her wide eyes invited candor.
“No,” he replied, “and that is why I must.”
“Lenardo-” there was a terrible uncertainty in her voice, “-do you really not want me?”
Her utter vulnerability struck through him like a sword of ice. “Of course I want you,” he said harshly, “but look what I’ve done to you already.”
The hurt in the depths of her eyes abated slightly. “I think,” she whispered, and he Read how immensely difficult it was for her to say it, “if we tried, we could make it worth… anything.”
What had he done to her? What was she doing to him that her foolish words seemed to make perfect sense, that he suddenly didn’t care if he woke up tomorrow a nonReader if he could have Aradia? What did it matter what they did together, as long as it was together? Hadn’t he just spent one of the happiest days of his life cleaning out sewers?
“Aradia,” he said, bemused at the beauty of her name. He knew the words but had never dreamed they might apply to him. “I love you.”
Her violet eyes lit with joy, and then her arms went around his neck as he felt dread sorrow give way to happiness. He kissed her then, gently, tenderly, tensed against the beast that had been roused yesterday. But no animal lust stirred in him, although desire sang sweetly in his blood as their soap-slick bodies slid easily against each other. His beard was full of soap, and in a moment they both had a mouthful of lather and drew apart, giggling like children.
Plunging into the warm pool, they rinsed each other, hands exploring bodies, Lenardo marveling at his own exuberance, untouched by any hint of violence. When they emerged and toweled off, he kissed Aradia again, easily quelling his impatience when he Read that she was glowing in response to his touch but nowhere near ready for completion of the act.
He knew that sex ought to be as pleasant and satisfying for a woman as for a man. What he didn’t know was how to make it that way. Reading, though, even if he could not reach Aradia’s thoughts, made it possible to discover what pleased her. He sensed fear beneath her desire and knew that he would have to gain her trust. He dared not pause to question by what miracle the desire remained.
They needed a comfortable couch; the marble floor was cold and uninviting. His practical nature suggested that they dress and return to Aradia’s pavilion, but some new instinct told him that it would be devastating to break their mood that way.
There were massage tables in a nearby room, too high and narrow for lovemaking but covered with soft mats. He carried Aradia in there and set her down on one of the tables.
She laughed. “We’ll fall off!”
“Just stay there, safe from the dragons, my lady, while I prepare a bower.”
“I don’t want to be safe from all the dragons,” she said as Lenardo stripped the clean coverings off the other tables laid ready for morning, put the mats on the floor, and covered them with the clean cloth. As he did so, he became aware that Aradia was watching his body as he moved, the play of his muscles as he bent and stretched. His faint embarrassment was overshadowed by his delight that she found pleasure in the sight of him.
When he had finished, he turned and looked at Aradia, letting himself for the first time in his life be completely immersed in the sight of a beautiful woman. Her skin was ivory, marbled with faintest shadows of blue veins where her blood flowed near the surface. Her breasts were small and round, lifted pertly, inviting his caress. Only because her waist was tiny did her hips curve in womanly fashion; she was slender as a boy, her legs molded into smooth contours from walking, running, and riding. Her hands and feet were small, her wrists and ankles so slender, it seemed they might snap like twigs. Everything about her fragile appearance belied the enormous power she could command.
As Lenardo moved toward her, his gaze focused on her face, flushed with expectancy. Her lips, already swollen with his kisses, were slightly parted; her violet eyes were dark with passion. She had fastened her luxurious hair on top of her head for bathing, but soft tendrils had come loose, creating a halo about her face.
His heart pounding, Lenardo kissed her once more, gently exploring, feeling her respond eagerly when he did not demand. Some guiding force led him to trail gentle kisses down the soft column of her neck, to tickle the hollow of her throat with his tongue. Her hand stroked his hair, wordlessly encouraging. When he kissed her breasts, she gasped softly, and her heart began to pound in expectation.
When he finally lifted her from the table, she cried softly, “Yes. Take me to the dragon’s lair. Devour me!”
He found her eager for him, moving with him in a natural rhythm. Lenardo was wide open to anything he might Read in Aradia but otherwise no longer controlling, rising on waves of shared passion until with a small cry Aradia melted into bliss, triggering Lenardo helplessly to follow, soaring and then floating, this time to a fully conscious sense of satisfaction for both of them.
Aradia did not have to push his weight off her. He turned onto his back, gathering her against him, touching her and Reading her at once to be sure she was real. She snuggled against him, drifting in contentment, one hand caressing his chest, fingers twining in the hair growing there.
“I love you,” he repeated, and when she turned her face up, he kissed her again.
“I knew we were meant for each other,” said Aradia. “Mmm. I could stay here forever.”
“No one’s going to chase us away.”
Aradia pulled herself up to kiss Lenardo’s forehead, his eyes, even the tip of his nose. “Can a Reader live on love?” she asked.
“I feel as if I could.”
“I fear I’m not so romantic,” she said in mock sadness. “I’m hungry.”
Lenardo laughed. “Shall I have supper served here?”
“No. I don’t want to share this with anyone else,” She rose to her knees. “I don’t want to share you with anyone else, but I’ll manage.”
Lenardo sat up, and they kissed again. He never wanted to stop touching her.
“Let’s swim first,” said Aradia, “then go and eat. And then-”
“And then we’ll see what happens,” agreed Lenardo as they climbed to their feet. “Oh, my-I’ll have to put this room back in order first.”
He carried the rumpled sheets out to the linen hamper. When he returned with clean coverings, he found that Aradia had already replaced the mats on the tables. She stood back and watched as he flung the sheets open and each one settled, unwrinkled and perfectly aligned.
Then they swam, dressed, and returned to Lenardo’s house for a huge meal. He found himself eating more than usual, even a piece of fish, although he had had eggs for lunch. He had become used to having meat on the table, as he frequently had guests. Tonight, though, the roast actually smelled good, and he didn’t avoid looking at Aradia as she consumed great quantities of it. Love does the strangest things!
Although the day that had so changed Lenardo’s life seemed long, it was far from over. They had not even been late to supper. Lenardo Read no suspicion of what had happened, although he was sure that his happiness was plain on his face.
For he was happy, strangely, ecstatically happy and unwilling to break the mood by giving thought to the future. Aradia had her own land to rule; soon she would return to Castle Nerius, and it might be months before he saw her again. But tonight, with Aradia falling asleep in his arms under the pale, milky glow of the white pavilion, all he could feel was that at last he knew contentment.
The next morning, not wanting to upset himself and thus Julia, Lenardo did not attempt to leave his body but simply Read Wulfston’s castle. As he had located it yesterday, the contact was much easier today. The lesson went well, and when it was over, Julia said, //You’re better today. I can tell.//
//Yes, Julia, much better.//
; //I’m glad. I’m sorry I got so frightened.//
Ill understand,// Lenardo told her. Ill worry about you, too.// Sensing her desire to retain contact, he asked, //Has Lord Wulfston put you to work yet?//
Julia was only too delighted to give him a detailed account of her activities, which included Reading the foundations of Wulfston’s castle so that the architect could take advantage of what was already there. She had made fast friends with the stableboy by warning him of a pebble caught in the hoof of Wulfston’s gray mare. That would have earned the boy a beating from the head groom had the horse gone lame while the Lord of the Land was riding it. Relieved of her worry over Lenardo, Julia was clearly enjoying herself. He left her to convey his greetings to Wulfston and went about the day’s business with a light heart.
It seemed to be one of Lenardo’s flashes of premonition: he knew that Aradia was not going to leave him. No matter how often he told himself that it was wishful thinking, the conviction remained, and he moved in a cloud of good cheer.
Late in the morning, Aradia joined Lenardo at the repair of a burned-out warehouse. Scaffolding had been built across from the buildings on either side, and with great effort men were hoisting heavy roof beams up. Arkus and Josa stood ready to attempt to keep the beams from swinging out of control when the workmen tried to put them in place.
The newly married couple glowed with happiness.I know how you feel, thought Lenardo, but he was surprised a while later to discover Arkus studying him, putting his manner together with the rumor that he had spent the past two nights in Aradia’s pavilion and dismissing the obvious conclusion as ridiculous.
Aradia told Arkus and Josa not to waste their strength and guided the beams into place herself. It didn’t seem to tire her at all.
“I wasn’t moving the beams,” she explained. “The workmen were. I don’t think there’s ever been an Adept with the strength to move something that heavy straight up in the air. All I did was let the chance swinging of the beam allow it to go right into place.”