by Duncan Pile
“That was the only way it was going to work,” Gaspi said, causing the druid to laugh.
“A practical explanation for a humble act,” the druid said. “It may seem that simple for you, but there are many, many people who would never let another being take control like that, or have the courage to let it speak through their mouth. You give such a simple explanation because it hasn’t occurred to you to be controlling, or fearful.”
“If you say so,” Gaspi said cheekily.
Heath smiled in response. “I won’t force an older man’s sentiment on young shoulders. Let’s just say that you’ve done very well today Gaspi, and in the most important of ways, you are now able to use elemental magic.”
“Does that mean I’m a druid?” Gaspi asked. Was it really that simple?
“Not in the true sense of the word,” Heath answered. “There is a trial for those who wish to become a druid, but you will never be able to pass through that trial, as it involves swearing never to use forceful magic again, and that, my young friend, is not the destiny that lies ahead of you.”
Gaspi glowed with pleasure at being called Heath’s friend, but it wasn’t long until that pleasure was swept away by the weight of portentous thoughts. It was the talk of destiny that did it. He was a magician - a Nature Mage even - and yet today he had taken an important step into druidry. Whatever he became in the future, he knew that this experience would always leave its mark, and he would never again be completely comfortable with forcefulness and control. He didn’t understand the implications of it all, or where his loyalty should lie. Why did he appear to be singled out for these experiences? For once, as he tried to untangle his thoughts, he was glad that Heath was not a talkative man.
Thirteen
Taurnil waited for Lydia at the city gates. It was well past the turning of third watch, so they were shut for the night, and no-one was allowed in or out after that time, but the guards always made an exception for one of their own. Lydia wanted to take a late night walk along the river, so Taurnil had made the arrangements with the sentries on duty.
There was an autumnal bite to the air, and he wore a knitted jumper over his shirt to keep out the chill. He was just starting to get impatient when Lydia appeared from around the corner, her slender form draped in a thick shawl. Taurnil’s heart leapt at the sight of her, just as it always did. Things had been tough between them recently, but the gypsy girl still made his heart beat like a drum and his stomach flip over every time he saw her.
It was the damned sex thing that had caused the problem. It had been a bit of a shock for him to discover that gypsy girls gave themselves to their boyfriends when they were only Lydia’s age. Taurnil was a city guard and fast becoming a man, but in Aemon’s Reach, you didn’t bed someone until you were married, and anyone who did otherwise disgraced themselves. After some hard thinking he’d come to terms with the idea that other people did things differently. He didn’t have a problem accepting those differences, but it just wasn’t the right way for him. He could only imagine what his Ma would say if she found out he’d bedded a girl and not married her!
He watched the natural sway of Lydia’s hips as she approached, and had to admit that there was something to be said for the gypsy way, but no! He had to be true to himself if he was to hold onto any kind of self-respect. He didn’t feel right about it, and that was that.
Flickering light from the flaming brands set into the wall of the gatehouse played across her face as she stepped up to him. She leaned in to kiss him, her nearness stealing his breath. She truly was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He kissed her back, breathing in the spicy scent of her raven hair as it fell about his face. He could feel the intoxicating combination of the firmness and softness of her body pressing against him, and felt his pulse quicken.
Withdrawing, he took a steadying breath and offered her his arm. Lydia’s hand slipped into the crook of his elbow and they walked towards the gate. The guards smiled as they approached, pulling back the bolt and opening the small door for them, and they passed out of the city. It was a clear night, and the light of the moon and stars was enough to see by as they wandered in the direction of the river. They walked along the riverbank for a while, until they found a natural hollow where the grassy turf dipped down to the pebbled shore.
They sat down and watched the swiftly flowing river as it splashed by their feet, the silvery light of the heavens reflected in its surface. Lydia sidled in under his arm, resting her head against his chest. She breathed deeply in contentment and Taurnil felt himself relax, staring at the river’s silvery back, rising and falling in constant motion.
A small black shadow flitted by his face, causing him to jump.
“What was that?” he asked, leaning forward to try and catch sight of it again.
“Just a bat,” Lydia answered, smirking.
“Are you laughing at me?” he asked in mock defensiveness.
“A little,” she answered, still smirking. She kissed his cheek hair and nestled into him again. “Don’t worry my love, I’ll protect you,” she murmured, patting him on the chest. Taurnil harrumphed. The tiny bats continued to swoop by, always banking away just as it seemed like they were going to fly straight into them.
“I’ve seen bats before, but not such little ones,” he said.
“They’re river bats,” she mumbled, “hunting for flies.”
“If you say so,” he grunted. He eased himself back until they were lying on the grass, propped-up by the slope of the hollow. They lay there quietly for a while, mesmerised by the river. It was like a silver ribbon of undulating light, and even the swooping of the bats had a kind of natural, soothing rhythm. Lydia snuggled in further, draping one of her legs over his and covering them both with her shawl. She started to stroke his chest, her slender fingers tickling and teasing him. He wasn’t quite sure if this was another of her attempts to seduce him until she started kissing his neck, and then he knew for sure. Sitting up straight, he pushed her away from him.
“Make a light,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. Lydia hesitated a second, and then a small, red globe of magical light, Lydia’s signature colour, popped into being between them. Taurnil shifted himself irritably so he could see around it.
“Lydia, this has to stop,” he insisted.
“What has to stop?” she asked petulantly, pretending not to know what he was talking about.
“You know exactly what I mean.” Her face was lined with the rigid contours of stubbornness and anger, but then both faded away, and her head dropped.
“But why, when I love you?” she said with such sadness that Taurnil’s heart nearly broke. He moved nearer, his annoyance fading in an instant, replaced by a desperate desire to comfort her.
“And I love you too!” he said with such fervour that she lifted her gaze, looking searchingly into his eyes. “But that’s exactly why I have to wait. I love you so much I want to honour you in every way a man can honour a woman, and for me that means marriage.” Lydia softened a little, but she still looked vulnerable.
“Is it because you’re not attracted to me?” she asked in a small voice.
“No!” Taurnil answered fiercely. “I’m so attracted to you I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes.”
Lydia smiled at that, strength returning to her aspect. “But then why hold back? It’s just a stupid rule!” she demanded, throwing her hair back over her shoulder.
“It’s not a stupid rule to me,” he said gently. “You know what I’m like. I have values that mean something to me, and if I abandon them when they’re not convenient anymore then I don’t know who I am. It’s a part of me Lydia. I was brought up to believe that you give yourself to one person, for life. I believe that! It feels real to me, and to do what my body wants just because you don’t mind would dishonour both of us. Please try and understand!”
Lydia was staring at him curiously, as if seeing him for the first time. “So it’s not because you don’t love me?”
>
“No!”
“And it’s not because you don’t find me attractive?”
“God no!”
“So you won’t bed me because you want to honour and respect me?”
“Yes.”
She looked at him speculatively, and Taurnil thought he could see satisfaction flower in her eyes. “Have I ever told you how strange you are?” she asked.
“Not really,” he answered carefully.
“You’re very strange,” she said with a slow smile, and then she grew serious. “Okay you win,” she said, her shoulders dropping in defeat. “We’ll do it your way.”
“Seriously?” Taurnil asked, taken aback by her change of heart. Lydia very rarely changed her mind on anything.
“I’m not saying I understand it completely,” she said, “but you’ve made me see that in your own infuriating way, you’re doing this because you love me. Understanding that should keep me from feeling rejected. So if agreeing to wait means showing respect for your values, then I’ll do it. It won’t be easy, but I’ll do it.”
Taurnil stared at her for long moments before kissing her and drawing her into a firm embrace. “Thanks Lyd,” he said sincerely. “This means a lot to me.”
“I think we understand each other better now,” she said, snuggling back against him. “Let’s lie down again, my love” she said, sounding suddenly sleepy.
“You sound tired. Are you sure we shouldn’t go back?”
“Let’s stay a bit longer,” she purred, and they lay down again, enjoying the quiet rush of the river as it swept past their feet and disappeared into the darkness.
…
Emea was frowning intensely at her half-written essay on advanced healing when a knock sounded at the door. She pushed a curling, blond tendril out of her eyes and turned around on her chair.
“Come in!” she said loudly, and was surprised when Lydia stepped into the room. Lydia had been pretty much absent for the last month, spending all her spare time with Taurnil as they haggled endlessly about sex. Emea understood it was important for them to work that out, but this was exactly the time she needed her friends the most. Try as she might to understand, her feelings had been hurt.
“Hi Lydia,” she said, wincing inwardly at the frostiness of her tone. Lydia came straight over to her, crouched down and took both of her hands in her own.
“Emmy I am so sorry,” the gypsy girl said, her eyes radiating sincere regret. “I’ve been a terrible friend to you, leaving you alone when Gaspi isn’t here. Please forgive me.” For a brief moment, Emea considered making her suffer a little, but then her better nature took over, and she flung her arms around her friend.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears.
“So have I,” Lydia said. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I know you’ve needed me but I’ve just been so wrapped up in things with Taurnil.”
“It’s okay,” Emmy said with a happy smile, so pleased to have her friend back that she couldn’t hold a grudge. “What’s happened? Are things okay?”
Lydia rose from her crouch and sat on the bed. “Things were pretty bad for a while, but I think everything is fine again now. More than fine maybe.”
“Tell me all about it,” Emea said, moving to the bed too and making herself comfortable.
“Well you know the problems we’ve been having? About sex.”
Emea was always amazed at how Lydia could talk about sex without even blushing. “You want to bed Taurnil and he wants to wait until you’re married,” she answered, ignoring the blush in her own cheeks. If Lydia could be forthright about it then so could she.
“Exactly,” Lydia said. “It’s normal for gypsies, but anyway, you know all that. The point is, I just couldn’t deal with him pushing me away. All I could think was that he didn’t find me attractive, or that he didn’t love me, but last night he made me see things differently.”
“How did he manage that?” Emea asked when Lydia didn’t continue. She couldn’t imagine how Taurnil had changed her mind. She was as stubborn as a mule once her mind was made up.
“He made me see that he’s not holding back because he doesn’t want me, or because of a silly rule. He really believes what he says - he wants to honour me, and for Taurn that means marrying me before bedding me.” Was Lydia actually blushing? She didn’t blush about sex but she blushed about marriage?
“That’s really…” Emea started.
“Romantic!” Lydia finished for her. She looked so pleased and surprised at the same time, and Emea could see that Taurnil had managed to sweep her friend right off her feet all over again.
“I’m so happy for you,” she said, taking both of Lydia’s hands in her own and giving them a squeeze.
“Thanks Emmy,” Lydia said. Emmy released her hands and they both wiped tears from their eyes.
“Anyway,” Lydia continued with a sniff, “I’ve been so obsessive about this, it’s like I have been blind to everything else. Once I got things a bit straighter in my head I started to feel normal again, and I realised what a terrible friend I’ve been to you. I’m so sorry Emmy.”
“Lydia!” Emea said firmly. “If you say sorry one more time…”
Lydia laughed. “Thanks Emmy.” Growing suddenly sombre, Lydia looked intently into her eyes. “How have you been doing without Gaspi?” she asked.
Emea thought about it for a moment. “Good and bad,” she answered. “I missed him dreadfully to start with, and I still do, but I just kept myself busy. The time has passed much more quickly than I thought - it’s only another month now till he’s back you know.”
“What’ve you been up to?” Lydia asked. “I’ve seen you hanging out with Everand and his friends.”
“That’s it really,” Emea said. “They’re a good group to spend time with. Rand is a much nicer person than I realised, and good company too.” Lydia looked at her uncertainly but didn’t say anything. “Come on, spit it out,” Emea said, anticipating what Lydia was going to say.
“Do you think Gaspi will be okay with you spending so much time with…Rand?” Lydia asked.
“Well there’s not been anyone else to spend time with!” Emea said defensively. She didn’t mean to sound so spiteful, but something about the way Lydia was questioning her made her feel like she’d done something wrong.
“Okay Emmy, sorry!” Lydia said, holding up her hands. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Gaspi made friends with Rand last year,” Emea said, still feeling defensive. “Why would he have a problem with it? They both fought in the battle for goodness sake!”
“I know, I know,” Lydia said. “I’m sorry!”
Emmy could tell Lydia was still holding back, probably because they’d only just made up. She took a steadying breath.
“No, I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know why I’m being so defensive. Do you really think Gaspi will mind?” Lydia looked at her uncertainly. “I won’t shout,” Emea said. “Promise.”
“Well it’s just that everyone knows he used to have a thing for you,” Lydia started, “and I think he probably still does.”
That was a bit too close to some of the doubts Emmy had been having herself. “Do you really think so?” she asked, but she was thinking about the way Everand often tried to touch her, and how uncomfortable that had made her feel.
“I’m not certain,” Lydia answered fairly. “And I’m not saying you should just stop spending time with him. But maybe just bear it in mind.”
“Okay,” Emea responded. Perhaps Lydia had a point.
“Anyway, now you’ve got me back, and I won’t be abandoning you again!” Lydia added.
“You’d better not!”
Fourteen
Rimulth stood with the Dag-Mar on the cliff top, looking out over many miles of plain and forest. The tribespeople of Eagle’s Roost lived an isolated existence in the impassable heights of the mountains, far above the numerous towns and villages dotted throughout the plains. What the sc
urrying thousands below didn’t know was that the mountains, although forbidding, were a surprisingly fertile place. The tribes didn’t live on the windswept heights; they lived in deep, secluded valleys nestled between the peaks. Their livestock and crops were well-watered by swift-flowing rivers, and by the frequent rains that fell generously on their land. If a plainsdweller was led into one of those valleys, they would be surprised by the lush grasses, the fatness of the goats, and the vegetative goodness that sprang abundantly from the ground.
Not that a plainsdweller would ever be allowed to see their sheltered valleys, which were a well-guarded secret. When traders visited the mountains, they were met at bleak, wind-scoured outposts that encouraged a quick transaction. The traders sold their goods in a hurry, and made haste back down the trails to their comfortable homes. This suited the tribes-folk, who had little need for outsiders and preferred to keep their blessings to themselves.
Rimulth stood next to the Dag-Mar, wondering why he’d been invited to accompany him that day. He’d certainly not been invited previously. After the shaman’s dramatic announcement at the men’s circle, where he had identified Rimulth as his heir, the Dag-Mar had barely spoken to him. In fact he’d had so little contact with the shaman in the month since the battle that he’d almost started to wonder if that conversation had been a figment of his imagination. And then, from out of the blue, the Dag-Mar had walked up to him that morning and told him to follow. He’d sprung up as if bitten by a snake, and followed the shaman out of the camp and into the peaks.
They had come to a stop here at the cliff edge, looking out over the impressive view, and the Dag-Mar had been silent ever since. Rimulth shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, each passing minute increasing his awkwardness. Was he supposed to speak first? When he couldn’t bear it any long, he opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment the shaman began to speak.