Oh, they were always tired, she thought, in their defense. And no sooner were they rested than they were haring off again, out on circuit. They couldn't help it. And it would have been an awful scandal for me to act openly as their lover.
Neave never fell asleep, but then he never ever fell asleep with anyone else in his bed. He couldn't. Not after what he'd been through. He was healing, but sometimes she wondered if he would ever really be healed. Perhaps not. And her times with him had been as much comfort for him as lovemaking. Oh, he was skilled; he'd had no choice but to learn skill... poor child. How anyone could make a child into an object like that; to use a child, an unconsenting, terrified child—
She deliberately turned her thoughts away from the past. "I think I could learn to like your customs," she said, keeping her tone light. "It seems a bit more civilized than to simply roll over and forget one's partner when the moment is gone."
"Well, but it is no jest, not really," he replied, with a finger-brush along her cheek. "Wait a moment—"
He gently disentangled himself from her, and with a whisper of cloth, faded into the darkness. Her ears strained to hear what he was doing, but she could not make anything out except some vague sounds of moving about.
He returned in a moment, and took his place beside her again; felt for her hand, and pressed a cool cup into it. She sipped, and found that it was delightfully cold and sweet water. Before she knew it, she had drained the cup; and feeling for a secure place to put it, set it down on a table beside her with a sigh.
"Sometimes I suspect the hertasi of prescience," he said, after a moment. "A meal for two waiting, chava for two to inflame the senses, with cool water waiting with two cups to quench the thirst—"
She chuckled. "Maybe. Is that one of your customs? Pampering your partner?"
"Oh, the custom is simpler than that," he replied, setting his cup down somewhere with a faint tick. "It is that one does not simply fall asleep without expressing one's delight in one's partner." His voice was warm with approval, and she found herself blushing.
"That is a most civilized custom," she replied, after a moment. "And," she groped for something to say that would not make her blush even harder, "consider it expressed."
"Would you care to accept my feather in the future, Wingsib?" he persisted.
She couldn't help it; she flushed so hotly that she feared she must be glowing in the dark. "I—would very much like it," she stammered.
"Ah, now I embarrass you, forgive me," he said quickly. "We are a forward people, we Tayledras. The Shin'a'in claim that like kestrels, we have no shame. But I hope you will not take it amiss that I am very glad to hear your reply."
"No—no, not at all." Oh, she must sound like a school-child in the throes of infatuation!
"Thank you, bright lady." That gentle hand touched her cheek again, and this time, he did not withdraw. "Are you rested?" he asked, his finger tracing a line down her cheek, then further down, along the line of her throat.
"I—think so—" she stammered again. What was he about?
"Well, then—there is another custom," he chuckled, "Which is why the Shin'a'in compare us to kestrels... in more than being shameless."
Then to her astonishment, he pressed gently against her, and began all over again.
At first she was too surprised to respond, but her astonishment did not outlive the realization that he was quite serious. And quite intent.
And quite, quite splendid.
This time, she brought the water, with help from a tiny mage-light to find where the hertasi had left the pitcher. He accepted it with a sleepy smile, and a kiss in the palm of her hand.
She took her place beside him, quite certain that even if she had wanted to, her legs would not have carried her as far as her own ekele. And she didn't want to leave, not really. Her bed was cold and lonely, and Darkwind was warm and quite ready to cradle her in his arms.
Who would she outrage, anyway? Not Gwena. Not the hertasi. Not any of the Hawkbrothers, who partnered whomever they pleased. Even Skif could not take her to task. There were no Court gossips here. No word of this would get back to scandalize whatever potential bridegrooms there might be.
Not that there seemed to be any in the offing. Nothing would persuade her to wed Ancar, and it was not likely that Karse had any royal sons to wed to satisfy an alliance... her mother had satisfied any need for bonds with Rethwellan. Who would she wed? Some fur-covered hulk from the North? They didn't even have any government; they were a series of warring tribes.
Perhaps she could choose a partner to suit herself....
"And now," Darkwind whispered, "custom satisfied—I fear—I must sleep—" A yawn punctuated the sentence, and she found herself echoing it.
"Custom satisfied—" she yawned again "—I agree—"
"Then, good night—" he whispered. "Zhai'helleva—"
Sleep had her by the shoulders and was dragging her down into darkness. But had she heard what she thought she heard?
Had he whispered, with the sigh of one drifting into slumber, "Zhai'helleva, ashke?"
Wind to thy wings—beloved?
The hertasi brought her clothing and laid it beside breakfast for two without so much as a single eyeblink to show that they considered her spending the night anything out of the ordinary. Gwena appeared shortly afterward, to tell them that they had been relieved of the duty of chasing away what had been attracted by their profligate use of power. And even her Companion had nothing to say on her choice of sleeping places and partners.
:Iceshadow approved of your choice of nonweaponry,: she told them, :Illusions make a less-visible use of power. He has some other mages out there doing what you did—with backups, of course, in case the beasties don't frighten away. Right now he wants you to meet with him and the Elders and anyone else that is free—he's holding a Clan-wide general meeting.:
"I assume he wants us to tell them all exactly what the message said?" Darkwind replied after a moment of thought, as he braided his hair away from his face.
:Probably. He didn't tell me.: She tossed her head with feigned indignation, but Elspeth could tell that she didn't mean it. :I told him that it was my opinion that you two needed a day of rest, anyway. He seemed inclined to agree, His exact words were "as much rest as the Clan can afford them, at any rate.":
Darkwind chuckled. "Meaning that we are still on call, Ah, well. It is better than being out in the snow!"
They ate slowly, Elspeth being very aware of Darkwind's eyes lingering on her, and being unable to resist taking a few, long, lingering glances herself.
He certainly provided a pleasant place to rest the eyes, He no longer seemed so exotic—although he did look a bit odd, with white showing at the roots of his hair; she couldn't help but think of certain "blonde" ladies whose hair often showed the opposite coloration at its roots. It no longer seemed strange to have the bondbird sitting beside them, taking bits of raw meat from Darkwind's fingers. For that matter, it no longer seemed revolting to eat her breakfast and watch the bird bolting his tidbits....
She remembered, then, that she had been able to hear the bird yesterday. Was that still true?
Well, why not test it?
:Vree?: she called, tentatively, pitching her mind-voice up high, trying to reach the same place she had Heard him,
The bird looked up, startled, and immediately turned his head upside down to look at her.
:?: he Sent. :!:
"Yes, she's speaking to you, silly bird," Darkwind said lightly, with an approving glance at her that warmed her all the way down to her toes. "It's considered polite to answer."
:Ye-es?: Vree replied, cautiously, righting his head again,
:How is Hyllarr?: she asked, figuring that was an innocent enough question, and one the bird should be able to answer easily enough.
:Hungry. Healing. Happy.: Vree roused all his feathers, evidently tickled by his own alliteration.; Very good. Is good bonding.:
:Thank you,: she told him
, and he bobbed his head at her before turning his attention back to Darkwind's tidbits.
"Why can I talk to him now when I couldn't before?" she asked, hoping he knew the answer.
"I think—mostly because you know now that he Mindspeaks, so you began listening unconsciously for where he was Speaking," Darkwind hazarded. "The gryphons Speak high, but in the ranges you were listening in already—but listening to them made you ready to listen even higher. I think. I don't think that you are developing a new Gift."
"Good," she replied, a little relieved. "One at a time is enough."
He laughed, and fed Vree the last bit of meat. "Shall we go?" he asked, standing up and offering her his hand.
The meeting was relatively uneventful, until Starblade put in an appearance. He leaned heavily on Kethra and a walkingstick, and sat down immediately, but it was already obvious that despite his physical weakness there was new life in his eyes, and new hope in his spirit.
He listened to both of them recount what they remembered of the message, and waited for the buzz of conversation to die down, before clearing his throat to speak.
He got immediate silence.
"Before any of you speculate," he said, carefully, "Yes—k'Treva did send mages to see if we needed help immediately after the Stone shattered. And I did turn them away, with protests that we were fully capable of dealing with the situation ourselves. You all know why I did that. I am sorry. But this may have been all to the good, in some ways. When they offered help, the healing Adept of which they speak had only just come into his power. Now he is at full strength. Had he tried to deal with the Stone as it was, it might have killed him and the rest of us as well. Certainly it would have damaged him, and our great enemy would have had a way into the power of a Healing Adept as a result. And that would have been even more of a catastrophe."
Murmurs around the circle showed that most of the Clan agreed with him. Elspeth didn't even want to think about Mornelithe Falconsbane having that much power. The little that she had seen of him had convinced her that he had been far too powerful as it was.
"Now—" Starblade continued, "I believe that with the help of Darkwind, Wingsib Elspeth, honored Gwena, and our gryphon allies, all will be well. But I am only one. I think that every voice should be heard in this. It is the fate of our entire Clan that we are discussing."
Elspeth followed as much as she could, but the Hawkbrothers were more than a bit agitated, and as a result, spoke a little faster than she preferred. She gathered that they were, on the whole, inclined to agree with Starblade, but they had been deceived before and were determined to do what they could to see that it did not happen again.
As the meeting went on, Starblade wilted visibly—yet seemed stubbornly determined to remain and prove that he was no longer acting against the good of the Clan. Finally Elspeth couldn't stand it any more. She stood up.
All eyes focused on her, and the babble of speech cut off, abruptly, leaving her standing in silence.
"I haven't endured what you have," she said, slowly. "And I haven't been a mage for very long. I've certainly never seen a Healing Adept, so I have no idea what they can or can't do. But we took a lot of time preparing that message; we told k'Treva everything we knew, in as much detail as we could. Surely, since they were already worried about us, this Adept they are sending has had time to prepare for trouble! Surely he comes not only armed but armored!"
She sat down again, wondering if she'd managed to insult all of them, or if she'd made some sense.
Evidently the latter, since she saw Iceshadow smiling, slowly, and there was very little muttering and much nodding of heads.
"Has everyone said what is needed?" Iceshadow asked, once the last of the muttering died down. He looked about, but no one seemed inclined to jump to his or her feet. "Very well, then, I—"
The bottom dropped out of Elspeth's stomach, and although she hadn't moved, it felt as if she had suddenly plummeted about five feet.
What in— She looked wildly about. Was it an attack? Had something gone wrong with the Stone?
But no one else seemed alarmed, and she calmed her pounding heart. Iceshadow actually grinned at the expression on her face, whatever it was.
It probably looks like someone hit me in the back of the head with a board.
"That, I think, makes the rest of the arguments moot," Iceshadow said. "So, if no one has any objection, I will declare the meeting closed."
Under cover of the rest standing up and moving off in twos and threes or more, Elspeth leaned over to Darkwind and asked, "And just what was that? Was that an earthquake? I've heard of them, but—"
"Not an earthquake, no, although I am told that the feeling is very similar, save that the earth itself does not move," Darkwind replied. "No, that was the establishing and closing of a long-ranging Gate that you just felt. Very abrupt—probably to keep from disrupting the Stone too much. Normally the flux is much more gradual and less noticeable."
"You mean—"
He took her hand and squeezed it, his smile inviting her to share in his triumph. "Yes. At last. There is very little that is likely to stop him. And there is no more chance for argument. Our help is on the way. We have won."
Chapter Sixteen
Darkwind took nothing about Elspeth for granted, but when she returned with him to his ekele, he thought it reasonable to assume that she was not displeased with him in the clear light of day. He had not been certain; she was so self-possessed, she rarely revealed what was in her mind. As important as her mind, he was not certain what the reaction of her Companion would be to their assignation, despite the fact that Gwena had left them alone together.
But there were inevitable awkward moments to come. The early moments of a new liaison were always full of such things... when neither knows quite what to say or do, and neither is familiar enough with the other to read body and voice. Trying not to appear too distant, yet not wanting to seem possessive, making the dance moves of courtship and trying not to stumble through them—all of this was universal.
He paused at the foot of the stairs and cleared his throat at the same time that she said "Darkwind—"
They looked at each other and laughed self-consciously.
"I was about to suggest that we take advantage of our temporary freedom to soak away some bruises," he said, offering a neutral occupation which had the potential to become something else entirely. In this, at least, he had more experience than she. He had sky-danced through a fair number of courtships. "The hertasi are skilled at massage, if you like. They use carved wooden rollers instead of claws, and thick oils."
She stretched in a way that suggested that she might well be suffering from sore muscles, stiffly, and with a little wince of pain, rather than coyly or provocatively. "I would like that," she replied. Then she smiled, wryly. "Now the pertinent question—were you thinking of soaking in the same pool as me, or going off on your own? I would enjoy your company, but I won't be upset if you'd like to have some time to yourself." Her smile became a grin. "Astera knows you've seen quite enough of me and my over-sharp tongue. I wouldn't blame you if you'd like a respite!"
"Actually, I was hoping you'd join me, but in the pool near your tree," he said, relieved at her words, and even more so at the touch of self-deprecating humor. "Yours is the warmest pool in the Vale. I will ask my hertasi to bring oils, once I find them. They haven't established a summoning method yet."
"Shall I meet you there?" she suggested gracefully. "You've got things to do—and I'm still something of an appendage to the Clan."
It didn't take him too long to find the two lizard-folk; it took him even less time to make his way to the pool he now thought of as "Elspeth's." But by the time he got there, she was already chin-deep in hot water, her hair piled up on the top of her head and her eyes half-closed in pleasure.
"We must have slipped and fallen in the snow a hundred times. I have bruises in places I didn't even guess at. I have got to find some way to reproduce these pools onc
e I get I back home," she said, as he shed clothing and joined her. "A hot bath is no substitute for this."
The two lizard-folk busied themselves in setting up cushions and towels beside the pool; once they were ready, he and Elspeth could go to their skillful hands with their muscles warm and pliant. Much easier to take the knots out of muscles that were relaxed and warmed than those that were stiff and tense.
"Have you no hot springs in your homeland?" he asked lazily, slipping into the hot water with a sigh of pleasure. "I would find that very strange."
"You would find a lot of things about my land very strange," she said. "At least as strange as Skif and I find the Vale. And speaking of Skif—"
He felt a chill in spite of the heat of the water. Was she about to reveal that she and Skif were betrothed, or something of the sort? While he had no claims on her, nor had any right to think of such things—the idea disturbed him in a way that he did not want to examine too closely.
But she was continuing, and there was nothing in her tone to give him any kind of clue to her feelings about the other Herald. "Speaking of Skif—Darkwind, what should I do about Nyara? If—when he finds her. Should I worry? Should I even try to do anything?"
"I do not know," he said, carefully, choosing his words in the hopes that they would not turn to stones and bruise his already shaken pride. "First I must ask you this—what is Skif to you?"
"To me?" She opened her eyes and looked him full in the face, and he was relieved to see that there was nothing hiding there. No hitherto undisclosed passions. No pain. Only simple concern. "My very good friend. My blood-brother. My—Wingsib, if you will, for the Heralds are the closest thing to a Tayledras Clan that my people know. He has no other kin but the Heralds, and I'm one of the closest friends he has among them. I'm worried about him, Darkwind."
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