by Bryn Colvin
Chapter Ten
Liss shuddered into wakefulness, casting off a nightmare that had haunted her sleep for too long. A woman with dark braids and dangerous eyes haunted her slumber and tormented the hours of darkness with challenges she could not answer and deeds she could not face. Over and over again she saw herself thrust the deadly blade of her axe into the waiting woman’s guts, spilling her dark blood and draining the life from her. In countless revisiting of the same dreadful scene, Liss saw those unforgettable dark eyes turn to glass and that mysterious, shifting body crumple to the ground. Each time Liss saw her crow woman fall she thought her heart would break. Whenever she was awake, she would find herself reliving the few actual moments of snatched speech, searching between the gaps in what had been said in the hopes of finding some sign or meaning. No answers came to her and, as the days progressed, she became wan and weary.
She had walked that afternoon along the riverbank, watching the young lads fishing in the muddy waters and trying to purge her thoughts of troubling images. There was no peace to be had in the house they had taken—another two girls had joined them, girls who did not fight but who could cook well enough and look after the four child-slaves they had taken. They were truly part of the adult world now and the sex games of her companions kept her awake at night. She still had not found her way to joining them and the muffled cries of enjoyment from distant rooms added to her restlessness.
Since her dismissal of Rina matters had gone from bad to worse between them. The predatory young woman had taken the slight very personally indeed and every time they spoke now, it soon devolved into argument. The hand all called her ‘Ice’ now more often than Liss. At first it had upset her, finding her company riddled with ill will and the newly established household so discordant, but her dismay had rapidly evolved into a seething resentment for the lack of respect they persisted in showing her. Aside from returning to sleep fitfully when she had no choice but to do so, Liss avoided the house, spending her time in training, visiting her father and Sena or wandering aimlessly as she had today.
Sitting in the waning sunlight, she had drifted into uneasy sleep. Startled into wakefulness and still half possessed by her dream, she reached for the knife on her belt and looked to see what had troubled her.
“I thought something was wrong with you. Funny place to go to sleep.”
Liss stood, resenting this intrusion.
“I’ll do as I please,” she said dismissively.
The young man looked somewhat familiar, but she could not place him at once. She had spent too many hours in council with her father and thought she must have seen every last member of their company by now. She could not remember half of their names.
“I’d stay still if I were you.”
His tone irritated her.
“Why?”
She felt something moving on her arm and looked down to see a small reptile glinting in the fading light. Its body was sinuous crimson and she studied it, fascinated by the shifting patterns of colours. Without warning it sank a set of sharp teeth deep into her flesh. She yelped and tried to shake it off, but to little effect. There was searing heat where its teeth lay embedded and she knew there was some sort of poison in it. Focusing her attention utterly on the task in hand, she pierced its body with the tip of her knife, driving the point deeply enough to kill it, but managing not to damage herself in the process. The little creature spasmed briefly before death rendered it still. She pulled it carefully from her arm, making sure that its teeth came away cleanly. Her skin was red and blotchy, but the heat was beginning to subside.
“I did try to warn you,” the young man said, his tone regretful.
Liss conceded that he had and rather than rebuke him further, asked, “What are they?”
“I don’t know, but there’s quite often the odd one or two sunbathing around here and they’ve got a nasty bite on them. You should be all right in an hour or two.”
He turned slightly and, seeing him in profile, Liss remembered that they had shared a patrol some weeks ago. His name still escaped her.
“The sun will be down in a little while,” he observed.
The larger moon was nearly full and already visible above the horizon. She wondered if he was going to try and take her back to the confines of the town, or if he would let her go about her own business in peace.
“There’s something about being surrounded by stone walls,” he said. “It makes me nervous.”
Liss smiled at that, glad to find she was not the only one troubled by confinement. So many of their company seemed at ease in the unfamiliar houses, with their many floors and glass windows so unlike the soft contours of the tents. She missed the sounds of life under canvas, the sense of closeness and the constant awareness of open skies, the way you encountered the world and its weather as soon as you left your bed. In this town, she supposed a person could go for days without ever feeling the sun upon their skin.
“It’s one thing for our parents, they remember living like this, but I don’t and I’m sure you couldn’t either,” he said.
“True enough. Some of my friends like it well enough.”
“But not you?”
“No.”
They began to walk slowly along the riverside, back in the direction of the town to which they now belonged.
“What will you do here, if they stay?” he asked.
“Train, fight, learn my father’s work.”
“Which is?”
She looked at him, astounded.
“Do you not know who I am?”
“I’ve no idea.”
She hesitated for just a moment, wondering if he would think differently of her once he had possession of her name, but pride prompted her to speak.
“I am Liss Crowfeather, daughter of Math Wolfstrong.”
“Ah,” he said.
For a while there was an uneasy silence between them. She supposed he would have spoken more deferentially had he known her lineage.
“What is your name? I know I’ve seen you before, but I can’t remember.”
“Dothrin.”
She recognised it as soon as she heard it. He had been uncommunicative on their last encounter and she wondered what had prompted him to be so talkative this time. He was someone she barely knew and did not expect to see frequently, so she gave little further thought to the matter.
“What will you do, if we do not move on?”
“I don’t think I shall stay. I would rather if you did not speak of this, but I have friends who feel as trapped here as I and we may leave. We don’t want to be farmers.”
She nodded, appreciating the sentiment. A life of toil, bound to one place seemed unappealing to her.
“I shall envy you if you do. I do not want that life either.”
They were within sight of the river gateway when he stopped.
“Liss, can I ask you something?”
“You can ask,” she said, the suggestion implicit that she might not chose to answer.
“Do you have a lover?”
She was glad that the gloom hid her blush and was tempted to ask what business that was of his, when it occurred to her why he had enquired.
“No,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
She had not thought him good looking at their first meeting, but he had filled out somewhat since then and there was an impression of strength about him that she found compelling.
She was absolutely still. His desire was a keen, sharp thing that welled up from the core of his being. At present it was reigned in, controlled and within her endurance. When he touched her cheek with the palm of his hand, her nerve endings burned wildly. His coming closer had a strange inevitability to it, she knew what would happen seconds before it did, as he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers. He was joyful then, desirous and intoxicated by her. His hands found her waist and she parted her lips, taking his agile tongue into her mouth. It felt like she was falling into something deep and warm. Why this seem
ed pleasurable to her, when contact with her friends had induced only fear, she could not say.
A prickling feeling along the back of her neck made her uneasy and she let her awareness shift beyond their embrace. She had the feeling someone was watching them, but all was silent around the river and nothing moved in the long shadows.
“Come on,” she said nervously.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know, a bad feeling, like someone watching. I don’t want to be here.”
“You aren’t angry?”
“No.”
She kissed him lightly on the cheek to reinforce her answer.
They jogged towards the gateway, leaving the mysteries of the encroaching night behind them.
“Be my lover, Liss,” he asked.
“Perhaps,” she said. “Perhaps I will, we shall see, but you won’t have me that easily.”
“I can wait.”
Chapter Eleven
The room was like many private apartments within keeps. Math remembered them well. Wooden floors and narrow, glassed windows that let in little light, fabric hung on the walls to ease the chill and skins upon the floors. His childhood had been full of such places; his youth lived between them and the campaign tents as he had fought to support a cousin’s claim to the throne. In victory, his enemies had proved merciful, allowing exile for those who promised to go quietly and a life with neither lands nor titles for those who wished to stay. His cousin had hung from the battlements, his body encased with chains so that he lived in agony for several weeks before death finally claimed him. Math had chosen exile and thought never to live within stone walls again.
“Math? Sena said you might see me.”
Flash limped across the room, dragging one foot behind him and leaning heavily upon a staff. He would probably never walk normally again, even after the broken ankle had repaired itself. Math knew that merely standing was painful for him and wondered what could be so serious as to have brought him here in person.
“Some of my watchmen have seen a figure on the river bank, on the far side. Comes at dusk, could be spying on us.”
“Someone alone?”
“As far as anyone has been able to make out, yes.”
“Armed?”
“Not that I saw. Usually it’s too dark to see much at all, but the one I saw tonight wasn’t carrying anything.”
While enemy spies were a cause for concern, Math suspected there might be something more to it. He could tell that Flash was nervous.
“She looked familiar.”
Math turned away, clenching his fists.
“It might not be her, as I said; the light was poor and it was at some distance. My eyes aren’t what they used to be. But there was a way she used to look at you, as though she was looking right through you. This one was on the far side of the bank, she looked up at the walls like she knew I was there and I felt her gaze, I’m telling you, it made me bloody nervous.”
“Be vigilant.”
“I will.”
“I do not want my daughter walking out alone, is that understood? I shall have words with her myself, but she is not to leave the town unguarded.”
Flash nodded.
“I’ll put the word around, there’s plenty of boys would be more than happy to keep an eye on her.”
“I’d rather she was in the hands of any of your lecherous lads than that fiend.”
After his man had gone Math paced relentlessly, wondering if he was jumping at shadows, but fearing he was not. There was only one unfinished fight in his history, one opponent who had neither bested him nor known defeat at his hands. The thought of concluding that old feud made his pulse race and the blood dance in his veins. He could almost forget all else—his duty to the men and women who followed him, the daughter who needed his protection, the wound in his chest, the child soon to be born to his lover. The mere possibility of such a battle enthralled him and he knew that was what made her so dangerous. He could deny all else for the sake of her, for the chance at her destruction and could ill afford such obsession.
“You seem troubled, my love.”
Sena was at his side, her gentle fingers upon his arm and the round protrusion of her stomach brushing against him.
“Its nothing,” he told her, “just weariness.”
“You should rest.”
“I know.”
“I would rub you with oils and help you to forget, but…”
She gestured hopelessly with one arm. Pregnancy made it difficult for her to do anything much, but he recognised her generosity and was glad of it.
“This one will be a boy,” he said, resting his hand on the curve of her belly.
“A strong and wise man, like his father.”
She smiled. It never ceased to amaze her that, when they were alone, Math was transformed from the brutal war-maker into a concerned father and a tender lover. Even Liss saw nothing of this part of him and, now that Vik was old enough to run and speak, he had distanced himself from his younger daughter, keeping his silence. Sena had never been a warrior, never trained as such and had not seen her lover fight. She had heard tales enough from friends and her sisters of his skill and prowess, his fearlessness and sheer talent for slaughter. She did not doubt it was so. She had seen him return covered in blood not his own, with a wild glint in his eye. When roused to temper he was terrifying to behold, but she had learned that patience might overcome even this.
Math seldom spoke of himself. Those who knew him of old and could remember the brash youth he had been, understood him somewhat, but he made no effort to reveal the workings of his heart and mind to those closest to him. Sena had gleaned fragments from his men, but knew the man who shared her bed was still a stranger to her, despite the years they had spent together. She knew his body intimately, every old scar and mark, every muscle and hair of him. She understood his desires, but so much of him remained closed. Early on she had tried to enquire, but questions were met with either anger or silence and she could deduce little from either. Looking up into his face, she could tell that he was troubled—the worry was etched upon his brow with dark furrows. He would not tell her, but she knew it was more than fatigue. Something haunted him.
His mouth was resistant to her first advances.
“Sena, I am too weary for this.”
She turned her back on him, reaching behind her to grasp his member through the fabric of his trousers because it was easier than working round the bulk of her stomach.
“I have not healed from my injury. I have barely slept this last week.”
She continued to massage him playfully.
“I have too much on my mind.”
“Then why are you already hard for me?”
He said nothing in response to this. Sometimes she felt as though she understood his body better than he did. When the pressures of his life grew too great and he thought himself least able to perform for her was invariably the time that he most needed to sink into the comforts of her body and lose himself there for a while.
“Surely you are too big, now.”
“I can kneel.”
He nuzzled his face against her neck, his hands finding her engorged breasts and simply taking the weight of them.
“Woman, you are insatiable!”
“Come to my bed then and sate me.”
“How can I refuse?”
She loved the closeness of his body and the earthy smell of him. Sometimes he would forget himself for a little while and just be a man, balls-deep in the woman of his choosing. She loved that more than anything. In the brief while after coming he would be gentle with her, saying things she would never expect to hear from his lips at other times: Confessions of doubt and of passion, proof that he was not only the cold commander his men recognised. Where the truth of his soul lay, she never knew, nor did she believe there would ever be a chance for her to find it. She loved him, as one might love a soaring eagle or a raging fire—from a distance and with no hope of possession.
/> Math undressed her carefully and gathered cushions to make a comfortable support for her. Sena snuggled into them, the roundness of her extended stomach comfortably supported, her heavy breasts resting beneath her. She had been oozing odd drops of milk for days and knew the child would not be long away.
“You are still lovely,” he said, caressing her full and rounded bottom.
Her legs were already parted for him and his fingers knew the way to the places she most liked to be touched. He massaged her, feeling the tender folds of her flesh grow softer yet and yield to the insistence of his fingers. Fragrant moisture seeped from her slit, wetting his hands and causing his mouth to water in anticipation.
“I want you inside me,” she said, her tone pleading.
Math continued with what he was doing.
“Math, my love, I want to feel you inside me.”
“You’ve already got my fingers, isn’t that enough for you?”
“You know it isn’t. You know what I want most.”
He knew. Sena’s appetites for his cock had remained considerable ever since her deflowering and he took her whenever he had the chance. Stoking her fires with his rod remained one of the few pleasures in his otherwise harsh life.
Math entered her slowly, savouring the slow unravelling of his foreskin as the closeness of her cunt pried it back. He felt Sena quiver and fastened his hands about her hips, holding her steady as he began to slowly stimulate them both. When she was not so large with child he liked to fondle her clitoris as he fucked her, but she was too heavy and easily tired to ride him and no other position would allow his fingers access once his cock was inside her. Sena was not a difficult woman to please and, even without these extra attentions, she was soon groaning in delight at his efforts. She might not be the wildest or the most erotic lay he had ever enjoyed, but Math found he preferred not having to worry if his lover would murder him as he slept.