“It's fitting that Soren and Lady Sillara should be able to spend as much time together as possible before she leaves,” said Orien, and Sillara heard Nathen's words spoken in Orien's voice. “If you are going, Lady, to your mother's kin, should you not have the opportunity to experience as much of your father's culture as possible?”
“Have you heard anything yet from His Grace?” asked Ajalira.
“Not yet.” Konas's face was clouded with embarrassment, and Sillara could not think why. Just because King Tivanel's messengers had not yet arrived did not mean that Konas had done anything wrong.
“Please, Father, let her go.” Soren squeezed Sillara's hand. “I will promise to look after her. Besides, if I am to lose my sister to the Ausir, I will want as much time with her as I can before she must leave.”
Sillara pressed Soren's fingers again, grateful that he understood.
“Merieke will be going, too,” said Orien. “So it will be all proper.”
“And I will go, too,” said Konas suddenly. “To watch over her.”
“We will think about it.” Kamen rose and took Ajalira's hand, and they withdrew to an inner chamber. Sillara knew they were going to decide.
She could not help herself. She concentrated, listening to her parents' whispered conversation.
“Lira, what do you think?”
“She wants to go, but it is dangerous.” Ajalira's hesitation was plain. “But what is danger to a Tamari?”
“She is Tamari, my love, and Sunjaa.”
“As Sunjaa, she should go,” said Ajalira. “As a Tamari, she should go. It would be a chance to prove herself a warrioress before she leaves for Duildal. And there is Nathen, too. If she stays and Soren goes, who can doubt that Nathen would remain to woo her? And it is certain that her … supplicants would come more often. All who heard her sing last night will doubtless be here tonight.”
“And why then should she not go?” asked Kamen. “Only for the pride and arrogance of King Tivanel.” Sillara heard the contempt in Kamen's voice, and she wondered afresh why he had agreed to this betrothal in the first place. “And if his messengers should arrive while Sillara is gone, well, they have made her wait this long. The Ausir can wait their turn. So we are agreed?”
Ajalira's low chuckle told Sillara all she needed to hear, and she smiled at Soren. She knew he had heard, too.
“I hope they agree,” said Orien. “Nathen will throttle me if I don't get this done.”
“Nathen?” Konas narrowed his eyes, and Sillara saw his suspicion as clearly as if he had spoken it. “Does he know about this?”
“It was his idea.” Orien devoured a piece of fresh oat bread.
Soren shrugged. “When do we leave?”
“But your father hasn't—” Orien's protest was cut short by the return of Kamen and Ajalira.
“Daughter, we have decided you may go with your brother and his friends.” Kamen glanced at Konas. “And you, Lord Seranimesti, may keep your sister-in-law under sufficient supervision that King Tivanel will not besmirch her reputation.”
Sillara clapped her hands like a child, and she felt almost like a child. She had never gone anywhere, never done anything. Often months would pass in which she was not allowed outside her father's gates.
“When do we leave?” asked Soren again, smiling broadly at Orien.
“Tomorrow morning,” said Orien. He rose and bowed to Kamen and Ajalira. “If you don't mind I will take my first mate away again. We will have much to do before we leave. To make it up to you, Sillara.” And here Orien winked at her, a gesture that pleased Sillara as she so seldom saw such light-heartedness. “I will send Merieke around for you two to make all the female plans.”
Soren wolfed down his last bites. “I will tell you all about it, Sillara.” And he was gone.
Konas rose, too. “Wurm-hunting does require preparation. We will be gone several weeks, Sillara. I have to get ready, too.” Then he followed Soren, and Sillara was left to wait for Merieke.
****
“So, Sillara, what did you do to get your parents to agree to let you go?” Merieke was curled up on Sillara's bed, and Ileke and another of Sillara's slaves were laying out various gowns.
“Nothing in particular. I think they just felt sorry that I will be leaving for the north soon, and they want me to be a Sunjaa while I still can.” Sillara idly ran one finger down the silk bodice of her gown. “Not that I get to be much of a Sunjaa anyway.” Nor are you a proper Ausir. Sillara's rebellious mind never let her forget that she did not truly belong in either society.
“A Sunjaa?” Merieke chuckled. “In those?” She pointed to the pile of gowns that Ileke was going through. “You really won't be able to wear those in the desert, you know. You need a proper cloak or two, certainly, but gowns like that will be too heavy and too cumbersome.”
“And what then should I wear?” Sillara laughed in her turn. “I have not had a Sunjaa gown made since I was eight.”
“If we weren't leaving so soon I would suggest you have some made. Since we are, I came prepared.” Merieke snapped her fingers, and her own body-slave brought in from the hallway an enormous parcel. “My father is constantly buying me gowns, not realizing I still have far too many. We are much the same size, so I brought some to see if they would fit you.”
Sillara nodded. “I will try one, and if it fits I will take these instead.” Ileke helped unfasten Sillara's laces, and soon Sillara was clad in the flowing, translucent linen of a Sunjaa woman. She felt cool and free, and she actually twirled in place.
“You look lovely,” said Merieke. “The white suits you better than those Ausir colors.”
Sillara sat down on the bed beside Merieke, her only female friend, and curled up beside her like a kitten. “You're the one known as the beauty of Arinport, Merieke.”
Sillara felt rather than heard the departure of the body-slaves, and she appreciated Merieke's sensitivity in dismissing them.
Merieke leaned Sillara's head on her shoulder and stroked Sillara's hair softly. She pulled Sillara even closer. “That may be so, but it is only because you are never seen by anyone. Last night more people saw you than at any time in your whole life.” She paused. “How can you not be beautiful? You look like your brother.”
Sillara laughed. That Soren was beautiful did not admit of doubt. “You flatter me.”
Merieke did not speak her reply. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed Sillara's mouth. Merieke's lips were soft and warm, but Sillara resisted the urge to open her mouth. Instead she pulled away, perplexed.
“Merieke!” Sillara knew that Merieke liked men.
Merieke's smile was sensual, and she reached up, tracing the shape of the Itenu falcon above Sillara's breast, which was clearly visible through the sheer linen. “It doesn't count, you know, if it's just two girls.”
Sillara shook her head. Apparently Merieke liked men and women. “I may be a maiden, Merieke, but I have heard enough to know that two girls can go quite far together, and after all, isn't that how you avoid getting pregnant?”
“What?” Merieke, despite her obvious shock, did not release Sillara's flesh, instead dropping onto the breast itself, and Sillara felt her nipple begin to harden beneath Merieke's fingers. “First of all, no, I love the feel of semen erupting inside my pussy, and I don't want to give that up. I take herbs. My mother was a Lotus, remember? But who could possibly have told you about what two women can do in bed?”
“My brother.”
Merieke's caressing hand tightened on Sillara's breast. “Soren told you? Why?”
Sillara could not help pushing her breast back against Merieke's hand. “Someone had to. He told me all about coupling when my father told him. We always tell each other everything.”
Merieke removed her hand from Sillara's breast only to slide her fingers up beneath Sillara's linen gown and touch her bare flesh. “Are you going to tell him about this?”
“Of course.” Sillara smiled.
“Wel
l, if he is going to hear about it, I should make it worth his hearing.” Merieke unfastened the golden straps of Sillara's gown. “Have you ever had your pussy licked?”
“No, of course not. I have not been touched by anyone since my pubic hair was removed when I was twelve.”
Merieke's laugh was rough-edged with lust, and she straddled Sillara's waist. “Would you like for me to lick you?”
Sillara felt the weight of Merieke's bare pussy pressed against her own, and the sight of Merieke's soft, pert breasts with their stiff nipples was lovely. Sillara had never desired women, but she had not really thought of men, either. She had been kept in an isolation that, were it not for Soren's lusty tales, would have left her with no more knowledge of sex than the embarrassed and formal statements Konas had given her.
Merieke seemed to take Sillara's silence for assent, for she began to grind her pussy against Sillara's and dropped her mouth to Sillara's breast. As Merieke's soft lips closed over Sillara's nipple, warmth flooded her body. Something she had not known she needed was being given her, and she moaned softly.
Merieke's tongue twirled Sillara's nipple within the warmth of her mouth, and Sillara's moan became a sigh.
“Oh, I have something you will love.” Merieke sat up suddenly. She reached into the tiny pouch that hung from her golden belt, and Sillara, as Merieke dug through, unhooked Merieke's straps. Merieke obligingly wriggled out of her gown, and she dropped down to lie between Sillara's legs. Merieke gently nudged Sillara's thighs apart, and Sillara obliged her.
“Your own tutor invented this,” said Merieke, winding up a little silver egg-shaped thing. “Orien brought one back from the party.”
Sillara heard the whirring of tiny gears, and she could perfectly imagine Konas's long, skillful fingers setting each one in place. Then Merieke placed the small, shuddering egg on Sillara's bare pussy, and Sillara sucked in her breath.
“Good, yes?” Merieke slid one hand up Sillara's flank up to her breast. Sillara's breasts were a bit large for her size, and her breast more than filled Merieke's hand. And still Merieke kept that vibrating egg pressed against Sillara's nub.
Then Merieke pulled away the egg, and Sillara bit her lip. “More,” she said.
“Patience, lovely.” Merieke wound the egg up again, then settled it once more on Sillara's clit. Then she straddled Sillara again, and the little shaking egg was between their smooth pussies. As Merieke pressed down, Sillara pressed up, and then Merieke's lips came crashing down on Sillara's mouth.
Warmth blossomed up from Sillara's sheath, spreading throughout her whole body, and Merieke bucked against her. Their breasts rubbed against each other, and Merieke's tongue slipped between Sillara's lips.
This time Sillara did not resist the urge to open to her, and Merieke's soft tongue explored Sillara's mouth. And the warmth continued to grow as Merieke's pubis ground against Sillara's. Sillara shook once from head to foot and threw back her head. Her rising wail was smothered in Merieke's mouth, and wetness dripped from Sillara's pussy.
Merieke sat up then. “Well done! Your first climax I take it?”
Sillara nodded.
“You came easily and without being self-conscious. You may be inexperienced, but you are certainly not naïve.”
“I liked it.” Sillara wondered for a moment why she had never had more curiosity to taste what Soren had described as so pleasant. “More,” said Sillara suddenly, pushing Merieke's head down toward her pussy.
“Greedy!” Merieke's laugh was easy, and she obliged Sillara. She took out the egg and instead placed her mouth against Sillara's dripping lips. Merieke gave a long swipe of her tongue, collecting all of Sillara's cream, then sucked the swollen pink hood of her clit into her mouth.
Sillara put both her hands on the back of Merieke's head, holding her friend in place. Merieke responded with a nip of her teeth, and Sillara climaxed again, a small one that only whetted her appetite for more of the same. She braced with her feet and pushed up against Merieke's sucking mouth. As Merieke's tongue—and teeth—worked their magic, Sillara fucked her face. There was no other word for the wild abandon with which Sillara bucked against Merieke, and when her next orgasm shook her it was a fierce thing, one that left her gasping and panting and sweat-soaked.
Merieke crawled up next to Sillara and kissed her. “Now you will know what to expect from your Ausir lover.”
Sillara's fogged thoughts did not at once conjure up the King who had had her troth from the day of her birth. She could not think of anyone at all. She wondered what Soren would make of that.
Chapter Six
Soren found Nathen at his father's forge, testing the weight of several harpoons. Much like whaling harpoons, they were made of black iron, with cruel points reversing direction back toward the wielder. Soren had never been wurm-hunting, though Nathen, two years his senior, had been out in the dunes with his older brother and father before going into the navy.
“So these are it, then?” Soren walked over and picked up a harpoon. He ran his thumb down its point and over the barbs. “They sound?”
“Yes, just like whales, though not as deep, of course.” Nathen indicated the hoop at the shaft's end. “Tie the rope here, and gallop along behind it. Just hope you don't run out of rope before it comes back up.”
“Sounds risky.” Soren had an idea brewing. “How do you anchor the rope?”
“Around the horse.”
“Are you telling me that if the wurm dives too deeply, it'll snap your mount's neck?”
Nathen nodded. “It's not that common, though. Most of the sands just aren't that deep.”
“But it can and has happened.”
“Yes.”
Soren tossed the harpoon back into its crate. “You need more rope.”
“It's hard to store that much while riding along,” Nathen said.
“Do you mind if I make use of one of your slaves?” Soren asked.
Nathen's eyes widened. “Soren, you fucked all night! Surely you've had enough.”
Soren doubled over in laughter. “No, no, no, my friend. I just want someone to take a message to Konas.”
“Oh.” Nathen laughed, too. “Sure.” He summoned a slave.
“Go to Lord Seranimesti's house,” Soren said, “and see if he is at leisure to see me. Tell him that if he comes to Lord Kesandrahn's house, he will hear something that only an Ausir can appreciate.”
The slave bowed and sprinted off.
“What've you got cooking?” Nathen narrowed his eyes playfully.
“Just a bit of Ausir tinkering. Speaking of Ausir tinkering, did you enjoy last night?”
Nathen dropped his harpoon and turned to face Soren. He slipped his arms around his waist and laid his hands on his firm ass. “You know I did.” He pressed his rising cock against Soren's own.
“And did your sister recover?”
Nathen rolled his eyes and pecked Soren on the lips. “You know her, always the saucy one. She still calls you a thief of love.”
Soren looked down Nathen's bare chest and abdomen. “It's good to be home, isn't it?” This talk of sisters brought Sillara to his mind. He had missed her terribly, and though he had not said anything, he was not sure how much longer he could have borne it.
“Indeed, it is.” Nathen dropped to his knees and lifted up Soren's short linen skirt. He pulled aside the cloth that covered his cock and took the penis in his hand, lifting it out into the sunlight.
Soren looked around. They were in his walled garden, so the only people who could see would be anyone coming from inside the house. Slaves or family. He did not mind Merieke happening upon them, but he was a bit unsure of how he felt about Darien. Not that Darien would be against sucking cock, but now, when they were busy with preparations for departure?
Nathen took Soren's hardening cock into his mouth, and Soren's eyes rolled back with pleasure as Nathen let it slip past his tongue and down his throat. Not being completely erect, the phallus bent just enough to slide do
wn. Soren's balls rested against Nathen's chin. He drew in a quick breath, grabbed Nathen by the hair, and gently fucked his throat. In a few short moments, he was obliged to pull halfway out, no longer able to hold his full erection in place without causing himself pain. Nathen licked and sucked, and Soren played in his hair.
“Abrexa's cunt, man,” Konas said, surprising them. He stood on the back porch with a wide smile on his face. “You're insatiable.”
Soren pointed down to Nathen. “He started it.” Nathen showed no signs of stopping, and though Soren would dearly have loved to come in Nathen's mouth, it would have been rude to see the oral pleasure to completion when he had a guest specially sent for. He tapped his friend on the cheek, and Nathen rose with a pout. “Later.”
Putting his cock away, he walked across the short grass lawn to where Konas stood. “I've got an idea, and I need another Ausir mind to help me with it.”
Konas bowed. “I'm intrigued.” His eyes lit up in irrepressible Ausir curiosity.
Soren and Konas spent the next eight hours in devising of a winch for the ropes to be coiled upon. First they started with diagrams drawn on wax tablets. They went through five such tablets before they could both agree on a basic design. Though they bickered and picked at each other over the details, they laughed with each other as well, for they shared a common love for artifice and craft. Nathen disappeared sometime during the forging of the frame, and Soren, being so engrossed in his work, knew not where he had gone. They fashioned the drum first, then moved on to the gears and the pins. Konas instructed Soren in how he had devised the vibrating eggs, and it was upon that principle that they made a winch that could not only accommodate the sounding of a wurm beyond three times the depth currently considered safe, but with a twist of the handle in the opposite direction, the device could automatically pull the rope in. They built it strong, so strong that the horse's strength would fail before it would.
The afternoon shadows grew long, and the sweat and grime of the forge clung to their skin. Without asking for permission, the two Ausir were led by the day's joy to strip off their clothes and jump into Darien's garden pool. They splashed each other as they laughed with their whole hearts. Nathen found them playing like boys.
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