As Auretius went on, Aro and Tescani joined in with questions. Talaos noted the similarities between the two, despite vastly different origins and careers. Both were coldly calculating in their way, consciously aware of their roles as leaders, endlessly attentive to details in preparation, yet alert and opportunistic in actual battle.
Then Adriko, running late, joined them with a catlike smile. He poured himself a tall cup of wine, slouched into a chair, and began to listen attentively. Talaos thought of the traits he attributed to Aro and Tescani, and leaving out coldness, thought how well they applied to Adriko as well. Or, he thought as the story unfolded, to Auretius himself.
There were a great many things still to learn, Talaos thought, and yet a few common traits that supported success. Traits that many of his commanders had in abundance. He smiled and listened on.
~
Talaos sat with Miriana and her father in a well-appointed parlor in the council hall. Aides had brought them refreshments, but they'd made little small talk. Auretius had warmed and opened up at the meal of commanders, but was now withdrawn again. Withdrawn and waiting, thought Talaos.
Miriana was very much the opposite. She smiled brightly now, but she'd been distant earlier, eyes remote as if seeing things far away. Talaos, now that he had learned to recognize and control his own, far less sweeping inner sight, thought he at last had an idea what such times might be like for her.
Miriana leaned forward intently in her chair. She gazed at Talaos in a way that, to him, felt as if she was basking in, almost touching or tasting, his presence and his aura of power. The look in her luminous eyes was very distracting. Her rounded, half-parted lips were as well. However, right now, they had much to discuss.
Talaos looked at them both, and began, "I think it would be good to start with the tale of how I came to where I am now."
Auretius nodded as Miriana continued to raptly watch Talaos. He decided to trust that in their time with Sorya and Katara, they would have discussed at least something of his life in Carai, and so he began his tale from the time of his ascent into the mountains.
He went on in as much detail as he thought was relevant. Miriana's father seemed startled at the story of Talaos's fight with the Ferox. So much so that he had questions.
"A pack of them?" asked Auretius.
"Yes. I know they are said to be solitary creatures, and I've thought since that the green mist in their eyes meant they were controlled or influenced in some way by the Prophet."
"I would agree." replied the old general. "Though even so, they are supposed to be impossible to tame, and they are known to quickly die in captivity."
Talaos considered that, and the strange kinship he felt with the Ferox. They were creatures dangerous and free. The thought of them being enslaved through magic stirred a hint of anger within him. At that moment, Miriana and her father both showed sudden reactions. Light from his eyes shown on their faces. Her expression seemed almost ecstatic.
"Dictator," Auretius said, "I can see why the Avrosans have given you the title of their ancient hero. Though the light never leaves your eyes, for a moment they blazed like suns."
"That is very much part of the tale, though I think Miriana already understands more than she has said," replied Talaos. Then he continued.
Both of them were fascinated by the story of the gods on the mountainside, and Auretius noted he'd heard of those carvings, but had felt too old to attempt such a climb. Miriana grew very attentive during the story of the standing stones, while her father brightened with professional interest during Talaos's tales of military life and battle. Auretius had known of Sanctari by reputation. He was knowledgeable of the military old laws of Hunyos, and noted that the Republic had never developed an equivalent. While her father was merely interested in the story of the House of the Prophet, Miriana actually grew uncomfortable, and even a bit angry, at the tale.
Talaos decided to leave everything of importance in, and told of his relationship with Liriel, her gift and her magic as a sorceress. Then it was Auretius's turn to look uncomfortable.
Miriana, however glowed, and spoke excitedly. "Can I meet her?" she said. "I hear the spirits, but can't really talk to them as she does."
"If she's willing," he answered.
"She is right about you being both spirit and man, though that isn't the whole story."
"I know," he replied. Then he went on again.
The tale of the Hand of the Prophet, and the battle, put them both on edge. Independent of Miriana's gifts, they'd both known of the Hands by scholarly study. The great battle of the allied armies was of immense interest to Auretius, while Miriana seemed to drift back into her exploration of Talaos's eyes.
At last he concluded. The old general paused reflectively, and then turned to Miriana. She broke off gazing at Talaos to look at her father.
Auretius bore a thoughtful, even philosophical expression. He spoke to each of them in turn. "Miriana, I know you have much to say, and I think it would be best if I step out so that the two of you can speak plainly. After that, Talaos, could we speak in private?"
"Yes, of course," replied Talaos.
Auretius departed. There was a pause. Miriana watched Talaos expectantly, leaning forward in her chair toward him, and he smiled in reply.
“Let’s start with the story of your journey,” he said gently.
She nodded and began in a lilting and cheerful voice. "Well, as soon as you left, my father resigned as magistrate and got some things put in order. We traveled light on fast horses… The wind was fresh from your storm! We stopped in Piros. I had this feeling you'd been to the observatory tower. So I climbed it and had a vision about the Western Isles. I knew they would be there, though I didn't know who they were."
Talaos smiled.
Miriana went on, "In Carai, my father talked with some old friends, and they gave us use of a military courier ship. It was wonderful feeling the sea air on my face. The Western Isles are very peaceful and green, and how lovely it would have been to stay! But I missed you…
"They weren't hard to find. I knew as soon as I saw them. Right there near the port, and thinking about going to find you, though they weren't sure where you were. At first, Sorya was suspicious of me, and I think she was a little nervous when she found out my father had been a magistrate. Katara asked me questions to be sure I knew you, but since then she's been a friend."
As Miriana continued, Talaos thought she began to be swept up in her own thoughts. Her voice deepened and her style of speech subtly shifted, it became more lyrical and more remote.
"One day I climbed a wooded hill, and found a circle of standing stones. The answer came with spirits on the wind. We found the right ship. When we got closer, I could feel you. Then I saw you from afar. You were a storm rising to the sky, crowned with lightning brighter than the sun, and black with lightless depths! I saw you seated on a throne of corpses, but I was not afraid."
Talaos smiled again, and answered, "From that throne, I saw your ship coming with the storm."
"The storm Talaos," she added, beaming brightly.
"You were a lamp of clarity in a world shrouded with mist," he replied.
Miriana rose from her chair, walked over to Talaos, and sat at his feet with her knees folded under her. She answered with sudden fierce pride, "The Living Prophet sees, but wants no other to. He sets his power against all others, but I now set mine against his. And my power grows!"
"He will come for us," answered Talaos, looking down at her with understanding, and an intense desire for every aspect of her. "I saw armies in the north and fleets in the east."
She looked up at him with her luminous eyes. He saw the eagerness in them, and felt his strange, potent connection with her. She gazed at him for a time, then began her reply, "I saw them, too. Talaos, you have a gift of sight, yet…"
He finished, "…Yet I am not a prophet."
"No," she said, voice now soaring and strong. "You are beginning to have such sight as the
great ones had. I first saw a glimpse when we were together. Talaos, the storm. Son of the Storm Father in a line down the ages since men overthrew the gods. Talaos, god of my heart. I said to you I would never have another, not that I could not. I will have no other man but you."
Talaos looked deep into her eyes, and replied, "Miriana, you should have stayed in the west, in safety."
"There is no true safety for me now," she said earnestly, her voice softening again, "but I'm safest with you. And I love you."
"I love you, more than I can say," he replied.
He took her hand, and they sat there for a long time in quiet intensity of feeling. Then he leaned over in his chair, tilted her chin with his free hand, and kissed her.
"Miriana, I think I'd best talk to your father now," he said, releasing her hand.
"All right," she sighed, and reluctantly rose. With a sudden mischievous smile, she bent forward, kissed him again, then turned and walked out of the room with a sprightly step.
He watched her go with many thoughts as he awaited her father. Auretius walked in and returned to his seat. Talaos poured them some wine.
They sat quietly for a moment, then the general made to speak. "Talaos, I've been Miriana's sole protector since her mother died. My second wife, Aradea, was a person of gifts and a brilliant scholar. She was widely read, particularly for one so young, and you can see that those traits and habits passed to Miriana. Even so, I had no idea, none, of the scope and power of Miriana's gifts. Not until you… arrived in her life. She is becoming like someone from an old tale."
Talaos nodded.
"And so, Talaos, are you," continued Auretius. "Leaving aside what I've seen, and what you've said, your men have told me astonishing things. Even the seven champions who founded the Seven Realms had no gifts of such might. I've read of nothing like them outside of legends from the age of heroes.
"The closest I can think of is a fragment I once read of a tale of that time. It seems, and I have no further details, that someone called the Radiant Emperor ruled the Eastlands and warred against another called the God King who ruled the Southlands. The Westlands were caught in between, and a mighty hero with powers of fire and wind rallied an alliance to defend them, but fell in the very moment of his victory."
"God King? That might have been long before the age of heroes," replied Talaos with great interest.
"The fragment implied that the great old ones, or gods, had already fallen," answered Auretius, "so I do not know what God King meant. If they have any basis in fact, such events would have been fifteen hundred years or more before the founding of the old Empire, and so at least three thousand years ago.
"However, the reason I speak of it is that you, and my daughter, are extraordinary people of that kind, capable of shaking the world. And if any of the old tales are guides, such gifts become very dangerous for their wielders."
Talaos replied earnestly, "I will protect her with all my power, and with my life."
"I believe you, from the outside world. But what about yourself?"
Unsure how to reply, Talaos at last asked, "What do you mean?"
"Despite the dangers, Talaos, and despite how you began in her life, if it were just you and her, and what I can see between you, I couldn't think of a better match for her. I'm tempted to see it as the kind of almost fated love one sees in tales… or that I felt for her mother.
"But instead, you have this… complexity. There are Sorya and Katara, who I do like, though their relationship with you, and each other, baffles me. Then of course there is this Liriel, the sorceress here in Avrosa.” Auretius fixed Talaos in his gaze, looking without fear into the lightning of his eyes. “Where does Miriana stand in all that? What would you imagine I'd think, or what I’d fear for her?"
"I truly love Miriana, and always will," answered Talaos.
"And these others?" replied Auretius.
"I love them all."
"Four women?"
"That's right, each in their way. You loved each of your wives, didn't you?"
"Yes, both and truly. But I was a widower when I met Aradea."
"Why would it be less so because I love them at the same time?"
Auretius paused, and seemed to consider that for a while, as if grappling with new and foreign concepts. At last, he replied. "Will you treat her with care and respect?"
"Yes, for as long as I live."
Auretius brooded in deep reflection. His piercing eyes softened, and looked far away in a manner that reminded Talaos strangely of Miriana herself. At last he turned back and spoke with finality, his voice simultaneously quiet and authoritative.
"Then let's hope you live a long time."
~
"Storm Lord, she is here," said the Avrosan guard outside his door.
"Admit her," replied Talaos.
Sorya walked in like a cat cautiously exploring new ground. She looked with doubt around the ring-shaped chamber, built as it was around the wall of the central stairwell.
Talaos had a desk, a table with several chairs, a pair off tall bookshelves, a number of chests, and a smallish bed here. Eager Avrosans had donated some carpets and hangings to brighten the place, but it was still very much a level in a military tower, and an ancient one, rather than a place built for living. He himself wore a simple, gray military tunic over loose-cut pants and black boots.
"You sleep here?" she said, eyes wandering the age-haunted room.
"As I said, I don't sleep anymore," he answered, smiling.
"I… That still just baffles me…" she replied, shivering with nerves.
Talaos gazed at her. She'd changed into a low-cut black dress in the style of Carai, and had done up her hair in the big, loose-hanging bun with the long bangs framing her face. She had wine-colored paint on her lips, and kohl around her eyes. Despite the sensual effect she’d created, she seemed distant.
"Sorya…" he said, extending a hand.
She stepped forward uncertainly, looking up at him with her big eyes.
"Sorya, I know how long you wanted me to yourself. You know that will never be. But, understand, that does not mean I am with you any less, or that I care about you any less, or that I hold anything back with you. Have you come to some peace with it?"
She stood before him, quivering with a degree of nervousness he'd never seen in her. "Yes," she answered, "I've made my peace with sharing. It's easy with Katara of course, as close as we've gotten. I… don't understand Miriana at all, but she's respectful of me, and Katara, and I know she loves you with all her heart."
He put an arm to her slender waist and pulled her closer. He gazed at her, and thought how much he'd missed her. She averted her eyes from the lightning within his.
"But," he said, "You aren't sure how deeply I really feel about you, are you?"
"No…" she whispered, and tentatively touched his arm.
"I love you, Sorya. I love you. I always have," he said.
"By the hells, you bastard, you've kept a mystery about it!" she said, with sudden intensity, arched eyebrows, and the old fierce look on her face. "I don't understand you…"
He replied reflectively, "I know. There are many things you might never understand about me, but it will be up to you to choose to be with me, or not, as I am."
"Oh, I choose!" she said, eyes flashing, throwing her body against his. She clung to him and pressed herself against the growing hardness under his tunic, "I love you! I love you more than is good for me! I've been coming apart at the seams without you…"
"Then look me in the eyes, and make your peace with what I am," he said.
She faced him, eyes wide and lips parted. She seemed to struggle for a long while, then the wicked smile, her smile of lust and mischief, returned in full and at last. "Yes, I have," she replied, looking straight into the lightning of his eyes.
He smiled and ached with longing and love for her. It felt like a lifetime since Carai.
"One more thing," he said. "You understand the dangers of what I'm d
oing?"
"Danger was what brought us together in the first place. That I can handle."
Talaos undid the clasp at her waist and slipped the light dress from her body. She had nothing on underneath. She smiled and gazed at him hungrily. He pulled his tunic and boots off, and she undid his pants. They faced each other naked. After a seeming eternity, he thought, they were together again.
Her small, high breasts were there before him, and her nipples were hard. Her slender curved hips, the tiny little triangle in between, and best of all, her wicked smile…
"Something on your mind?" she said in wry tones, eyes flashing.
He held her tight with his left arm around her waist, then moved his hand to her firm, cupped bottom. With his right hand, he grabbed her hard by the trailing bun of her hair. She gasped. He tilted her head back, kissed her neck from ear to shoulder, and then put his teeth to the skin, biting hard. She made a little yelp, then moaned.
Sorya reached her hand between his legs, gripped him hard and began to stroke. "I… have missed… this!" she said, voice almost hoarse with passion.
Still gripping her by the hair, he tilted her head again to kiss her. She parted her lips hungrily, and he pressed his mouth to hers. He forced his tongue inside her, and she battled it with her own. She stroked him wildly. He gripped her bottom hard, then slipped a finger in between and inside. She half-screamed as she began grinding her hips against him.
Then, without warning, he took her in his arms as if she were weightless, carried her to his bed and bent her over the edge. She shivered, breath panting expectantly. He pinned her down with one hand at the back of her neck and spanked her hard across the bottom with the other.
She gasped with mingled pain and pleasure.
He gripped her hip, forced himself almost violently inside her, and began thrusting wildly, fast and hard. The bed shook.
"Yes!" she screamed, "Yes! Unh! Yes! Unh! Yes…"
She released, juices soaking the bed, then again, and then a third time.
He unleashed inside her, so forcefully that she screamed again, and so soon that she looked over her shoulder in surprise, for their nights had been long in Carai.
The Storm's Own Son (Book 3) Page 12