“Dammit!” Salomen shook her hands, then tucked them under her arms. “This is too much. I have waited four long days to touch you, and I can’t shekking do it!”
“Salomen—”
“I hate this.”
“I know. I do too. But we have to live with it until we’re comfortable with the idea of Sharing.”
“Would it surprise you if I said I’m much more comfortable with that idea now than I was before you left?”
“Yes, it would. What happened?”
Salomen moved to her chair and sat down. “You’d better take the window seat. Fahla knows we cannot handle the temptation of sitting together.”
Tal took her customary seat. “All right, we’re safely apart. Now tell me what happened.”
“Nothing special. Just that I spent every day missing you more than I thought possible. And every evening glued to the vidscreen, watching you. And every night lying awake, wishing you weren’t so far away. I even caught myself looking out the kitchen window yesterday morning, waiting for you to come running past the grove in that rag of a shirt you wear.”
“Careful. That rag is the most comfortable shirt I own. I’m extremely loyal to it.”
Salomen gave her a faint smile. “To a fault, I think. I’m just not used to feeling so lonely anymore. It’s ridiculous; I spent most of my life that way and managed perfectly well. You’ve been here only three ninedays, but…you gave me the first real freedom to be myself that I’ve ever known. I got used to it. And when you left, that left with you. I can’t live that way anymore.” She wrapped her arms around herself and looked at Tal unhappily. “All I want now is to be in your arms, but we can’t. It’s driving me insane.”
Unable to tolerate the distance, Tal pushed off the window seat and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the chair, resting her hands palm up on Salomen’s knees.
Salomen relaxed as she covered them with her own. “Thank you. Not quite a warmron, but I suppose it’s the best we can do right now.”
“Better than nothing. And I missed you, too. The only time I wasn’t thinking about you was during my speeches.” Tal lifted one hand to her lips and kissed it. “I’m glad I can give you that freedom, because you’ve done the same for me.”
“Because I see past the lie? I never saw that lie quite so clearly as I did while watching your speeches. You were every bit the Lancer. It reminded me of how intimidated I was when I first met you.”
“You got over it quickly,” Tal teased.
Salomen’s mood lifted slightly. “True. But now I’m intimidated for a different reason. How is it possible to want something so much and still be frightened of it?”
“The same way it’s possible to be frightened of something and still want it.”
“Interesting. I never thought of it that way.”
“I remember being frightened of my first joining. But I still wanted it, in a powerful way.”
“Ooo, I haven’t heard this. How old were you?”
“Fifteen.”
“You were not!” Salomen chuckled. “I know you were a precocious child, but nobody joins before they’re sixteen. Your parents would have killed your partner if that were the case.”
“True words. All right, I lied. We waited until the day after my birth anniversary.”
“Impatient little things, weren’t you?”
“We thought we were doing well to last that long! Fahla, she was beautiful. I wanted her from the moment she transferred into my class.”
“And was it as frightening as you thought?”
“It was wonderful.”
Salomen gave an exaggerated sigh. “Of course you would have a perfect first joining. For most of us it involves more fumbling than wonder. And a few painful bites.”
“Is this the voice of experience?”
“I waited two full cycles after my sixteenth birth anniversary, but it didn’t help. My first was a boy I went to school with. We knew everything about each other and our families, but hardly a thing about joining. We tried our best, but agreed afterwards that nothing our instructors or parents told us was sufficient training. Fortunately, we were both quick learners.”
“So the second joining was better than the first.”
“By a length. And the third was better than that. And then we had to stop and get something to eat.”
Tal roared with laughter. When she could speak again, she asked, “Was he your first Sharing as well?”
“No, that was a woman from the other side of Granelle. But I don’t think my Sharings have been quite as wonderful as yours probably were.”
“Why not?”
“Because I could never really let go. If I did that, my secret would be out.”
Tal’s merriment vanished. “It’s not supposed to be like that. I’m sorry you’ve never experienced a Sharing the way it’s meant to be.”
“I made my choice.”
But it was obvious that Salomen was merely repeating the words she had used many times before. Tal could sense no real conviction behind them.
“You made a choice when you were ten cycles, for Fahla’s sake.”
“Yes, but it was hardly one I could take back, was it? I still haven’t figured out how to tell my family. Father and Nikin especially will want to know why I never said anything. They’ll be hurt that I didn’t trust them.”
“Would it be any easier if I was there when you told them?”
Salomen squeezed her hands. “It would. Thank you for offering. And this is precisely what I mean when I say I’ve gotten too used to this. Now that I know what it’s like to have this kind of support, I don’t want to go back to the way it was before. But I’m nervous about going forward, too.”
“We don’t have to go anywhere just yet. We’re still in control.”
“You call this control?” She lifted their hands. “We can’t enjoy the most basic physical contact that should precede a joining, let alone a Sharing. I’m craving it. If nothing else, that will force me into a decision.”
“I see. Were you planning to inform me of this decision? Just so I can put it on my calendar, of course.”
Salomen gave her a sheepish smile. “I meant our decision.”
“Ah. Right.” Tal nodded.
“Oh, stop. You know I cannot make that choice alone.” She tilted her head. “How are you feeling about it now?”
“Better than before I left. I had a rather…interesting experience at Whitemoon Temple after our call last night. Fahla gave me a sign.”
As she described her experience, Salomen’s initial curiosity turned to astonishment.
“Holy shek!”
“That’s exactly what I said.”
“When you said a sign, I thought you meant something like a celestial stone over the temple dome. Great Goddess! I’ve never known anyone who had an actual sign like that. That kind of thing happens in legends, not real life.”
“Believe me, it was real enough. I thought my hands were going to burst into flames.”
“What do you think she was telling you?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure it was about us. It happened right after I asked for her help in making you happy.”
Salomen’s smile lit the room. “You don’t need Fahla’s help with that. You’ve been doing fine all on your own.”
“I just wanted to make sure it stays that way.” Tal stood, pulling Salomen up with her. Bringing their clasped hands down and to the sides, she pressed her body into Salomen’s and dropped a gentle kiss on her throat. “Maybe…if we keep out of a warmron…and I just go one kiss at a time…we can stay under the threshold for a flash,” she murmured, punctuating her words with the lightest of kisses.
“It’s worth a try.” Salomen dropped her head back, giving Tal a great deal more to work with.
She held
herself tightly in check, tamping down her desire, and managed to cover nearly every bit of Salomen’s throat and jaw before a slight tingle told her she had gone far enough. Reluctantly, she let go and stepped back.
Salomen raised her head with a quiet sigh. “Damn.”
“I know, but we got away with that much.”
“Always seeing what you can get away with, aren’t you?”
“Of course. And especially with you.” Tal went back to her window seat to remove herself from temptation. “If you never push the limits, you’ll never know how far you can go.”
“No wonder Jaros worships you,” Salomen said as she took her own chair. “That’s his philosophy as well.”
That reminded Tal of a conversation they needed to have, much as she didn’t want to at the moment.
“Salomen…”
“I know. I didn’t tell you about him because I didn’t want you to worry. There was nothing you could have done anyway.”
“But don’t you think I needed to know? It happened because of me.”
Salomen’s eyes widened. “You’re upset with me? I was just doing what I thought was best for you. You carry so much; I didn’t want to add to that if it wasn’t necessary.”
“It’s my duty to carry all of this. That’s the responsibility I accepted along with my title. You cannot protect me from what I need to know.”
“Because you’re the one who does the protecting.”
“Yes,” Tal said in relief. Salomen understood.
“No. Not anymore.”
“No? What in—”
“I’m not talking about your title. I’m talking about you, personally. Or am I alone in enjoying the comfort of a partner, because you think you’re the only one who can provide that support?”
How did this get so turned around? “No, of course not. You of all people know how much it means for me to have your support.”
Salomen was looking at her as if she could see right through her, and Tal had the uncomfortable thought that perhaps she really could.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “You tell me how much it means for you to be accepted as who you are, but in reality you only want part of that. You want it to end right at the point where I might see you as vulnerable, or worst of all, truly needing anything.”
“That is not true. I called you after Whitesun—”
“And didn’t say a word about that woman calling you Betrayer. You wanted to hear about our day at Hol-Opah.”
“Because I needed something normal!”
“There, was that so hard to admit?”
“What? I said it then.”
“No, you said you were tired of politics and talking points and you wanted to hear about us. And then you drank out of that flask and your damn hands were shaking, and you looked at me as if you were perfectly all right. As if I’m one more person you need to play a role with. I didn’t even know why that affected you so much until I saw your interview the next day and realized just who that woman was.”
“I didn’t want to talk about it then.” How could she explain that Hol-Opah was a world apart for her? A refuge that she didn’t want sullied by the realities of the rest of her life?
“And you don’t want to talk about it now.”
“Not particularly, no.”
Salomen nodded. “You’ve built your life on being seen as invincible, and having anyone take care of you implies the opposite. But Colonel Micah takes care of you, and somehow that’s all right because…he’s a warrior? Your Chief Guardian?”
“Because I’ve known him all my life! And it’s his job to take care of me.”
“Isn’t it the job of a tyree to take care of her bondmate?”
But Tal didn’t want to be one more burden on Salomen. She wanted to take those burdens away, not add to them.
“When I kept the news about Jaros from you, I was thinking of your comfort,” Salomen said. “I wanted you to get a good night’s sleep and not worry about something you couldn’t do a thing about. But I see such consideration makes you more uncomfortable, not less.”
Tal slumped back against the window. “I thought we were past this kind of arguing.”
Salomen’s smile was knowing. “I’m just as brick-headed as you are. We’ll never be past this kind of arguing. This is the other side of having someone accept you as a whole person and not just the Lancer. I’m not going to concede because you have the final word; I’ll concede when you convince me to.”
“Well, that’s never going to happen.”
“Don’t be so pessimistic. It already has. You’ve convinced me of quite a few things, and taught me more than that. I just want to be recognized as an equal partner.”
“You are. How could we even be here otherwise?”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Salomen said. “And I think I just figured out some of my nervousness. When we Share, it needs to be a gift between equals. That’s when I’ll be comfortable with it.”
“So now we’re back to you making the decision regarding our Sharing. And here I thought I was joking about that.”
“Are you not listening to anything I’m saying? I just told you that you’re the one who will bring us to that point.”
In the silence that followed, Tal sensed only sincerity. Salomen wasn’t arguing for the sake of a debate; she was simply waiting for Tal to understand.
Understand what, exactly, Tal wasn’t sure.
“I thought I already saw you as an equal partner,” she said. “But if you don’t feel it, then there’s something I’m not doing right.”
There was that knowing smile again. “You have no idea how many things you already get right.” Salomen stood up and walked over, not stopping until she was between Tal’s legs. The intensity in her eyes was mesmerizing as she braced her hands on the window and leaned in, closer and closer, until their foreheads were almost touching. “Can we go back to the beginning of this conversation?” she whispered. “The part where I told you how much I missed you? Because I forgot to mention something else. I love you.”
Tal tried to say it, but the words wouldn’t come out. As Salomen slipped one arm around her, she buried her face in the fragrant warmth of her tyree’s neck and prayed that Fahla would let them have a few pipticks before the flash. She needed this comfort and she needed to hide her face, because they weren’t equals. Salomen was far ahead of her.
CHAPTER 65
First rain
Micah woke in the gray light of dawn, a lifetime of training keeping him perfectly still in bed while he worked out what was wrong. As his brain came to full alertness and identified the pervasive drumming sound, he grumbled to himself. Great. The rains had come in the night, half a day before they were predicted. That would make the morning’s field work a muddy, messy pain in the backside, and everything from now until the end of autumn was going to be a constant slog. This was his least favorite season, when the long summer ended abruptly with the autumn rains that seemed to have no end.
He rose and wasted no time pulling on trousers and tunic; the air was noticeably colder this morning. Picking up his belt, he wandered to the window while buckling it on and looked out into the back property.
“You’re insane,” he said, shaking his head. “And I am so glad I’m too old for your running detail.”
Tal was there, her only concession to the pouring rain a waterproof running suit and a brimmed hat that kept her hair and face dry. The five Guards with her wore matching outfits, but other than that, none of the runners seemed to have noticed the inclement weather. They stood around in relaxed stances, having their usual morning chat before starting their run. Tal laughed at something Gehrain said and smacked him on the shoulder. Then she turned and set off, the Guards instantly surrounding her in the standard formation.
Micah waited as they jogged out of sight. Sure enou
gh, a familiar figure appeared, following Tal and her Guards at a safe distance.
“Well, I’ll be Fahla-damned.” He wouldn’t have believed Herot would be there this morning. Not after last night’s temper tantrum, and especially not in the cold and the wet.
Micah felt a tiny bit of grudging respect. Maybe Herot had something resembling a man inside him after all. Despite all his outward anger and resentment of Tal, he was still trying to prove something to her.
“Herot, you give yourself away,” he murmured. “You wouldn’t be so keen on this if you didn’t care about her opinion.”
He watched the figure until it was swallowed up in the rain, then turned and headed for the kitchen. A hot cup of shannel sounded perfect right now.
CHAPTER 66
Horten harvest
For Tal, the morning was an exercise in frustration. She hadn’t had nearly enough time with Salomen the previous night, and her assignment to transport duty this morning meant she wouldn’t see her during the day, either. The few glimpses she got while carefully maneuvering the large farm transport under the field cover and helping the crew with loading were hardly sufficient. Salomen was everywhere at once, organizing and supervising an impossibly chaotic harvest. Tal didn’t know whether it would be much easier if it were dry; the tight schedule of the distribution center and the fact that the horten had to be cut immediately prior to loading meant that stress levels were high whether it was raining or not.
Though the rain certainly didn’t help, she thought as she pulled her boot out of the squelching mud. It was impossible to keep anything clean. The inside of her transport already looked like a mud bog, and they had been working for just two hanticks. She hated to think what it would look like by the end of the day.
“Done!” one of the workers shouted over the din of rain pounding on the field cover. He hit the control for the rear door, watched it slide down, and slapped his hand on the side. “Get it out of here!”
Tal hopped inside, sighing with relief as she shut the door and sealed out the noise. She looked over at Varsi, who was pulling escort duty in the passenger seat. “Ready?”
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