Vision of Light [The Renegades 1]

by Amanda Hilton

  "I still owe you arithmetic lessons,” he offered.

  "You are too kind,” she murmured, but she did not protest further because she wanted to learn more than anything else. They sat at the small table. Lucien overtook the entire room with his build and height, dwarfing the chair that barely fit him. His presence vibrated the air, and she wanted to inch a little closer so she could touch him. However, he was trying to teach her, so she had to behave for now. She still wanted to talk to him about their predicament with each other, but now did not seem to be the appropriate time.

  Aislan adjusted the scarves at her shoulder and fingered the brooch. All of this dressing up was too much to present a façade so that others would think they had left. Feeling overdressed, she took off the brooch and put it on the table.

  "I cannot accept such an expensive item. Please pass my thanks to Lord Traver for his kindness.” Taking off the scarves, she folded them neatly.

  In the process of taking out her books from the bag, Lucien paused for one moment, and then continued unpacking, saying nothing. As the day progressed, she had learned to multiply and divide a succession of fractions. Eventually, he taught her how to calculate off the top of her head. After what seemed to be many hours later, Lucien sprang to his feet and went to the door. Lord Traver was walking down the tunnel. Aislan had heard nothing. Lord Traver came in, carrying two bags and a handful of books.

  "Lucien requested some books for you. I picked a few, but I fear they may not be interesting. Jaden picked out a couple of the books. Just tell us what you like to read, and we will find something more to your liking."

  "Lord Traver, you are too kind.” Aislan smiled gratefully.

  "If I could, I would send a maid down to see to your comfort, milady,” Traver said regretfully. “However, no one except Jaden and I know about Calvan."

  Aislan took the books he gave her, touching them reverently as she gave him a warm, grateful smile.

  "You have been generous, Traver,” Lucien said. “'Tis no hardship here."

  Aislan looked at the brooch on the table. Lucien glanced at it also, but he only walked Traver to the door. Once Traver had left, Aislan stared at him thoughtfully.

  "Thank you,” she said softly. She touched the lapel of her vest and the neckline of her dress. “These are beautiful clothes."

  He shrugged. “A maid selected them."

  She looked at his mouth and was ready to go for a kiss when he turned abruptly from her. It would be difficult for him to keep resisting her while they lived in a little box they could barely move about. Joining him at the table, Aislan picked up the brooch, fussing deliberately as she re-fastened it on her vest. Meanwhile, she looked at Lucien coquettishly from under her lashes, smiling her appreciation. He sat so close to her, she reached over and touched his hand, her fingers caressing the warm, tanned skin. He had a very light sprinkle of hair at his wrist, and she played with it. Lucien pulled his hand away and frowned his disapproval. Aislan sighed and picked up the new books, leafing through them.

  "Oh, how thoughtful of him!” she exclaimed, and then realized how she must sound. “I am a dolt. Lucien, darling, thank you for asking for these. You are wonderful, as always."

  He frowned again at her endearment, as if she were misbehaving. Aislan rolled her eyes and grinned at him, but he did not look amused.

  He unpacked the content of the bags Lord Traver brought, and Aislan leaned over to look. One bag held food such as cheese, bread, vegetables, fruit, dry herbs and spices. The other held changes of clothes and toilet items. She went back to her own goodies, a book on ailments and remedies, a book on chemistry, a book on philosophy, and two novels. Aislan picked up the one titled Lady Mallory's Secret, opened it to the first page, and began to read it aloud to show Lucien how good she had become under his tutelage.

  * * * *

  After the two opening pages, Lucien could no longer listen to Aislan's reading of Lady Mallory's sexual escapades.

  "I'll fetch water, so stay put,” he told her only so she did not take it in her head to go looking for him. Aislan stopped reading, then gave him a provocative little sigh and nodded.

  Outside the door, Lucien lit the lantern that hung from a chain hooked overhead. He opened another door to the privy and checked for any rodents. Deeming it safe, he briefly informed Aislan, and she nodded before returning to her reading, her mouth moving silently as she pronounced each word under her breath.

  A large barrel stood empty outside. Instead of picking up the two buckets, he lifted the entire water barrel and walked down the dark tunnel to the spring, located a short distance away in another part of the garden.

  Traver had given him a brief explanation of the layout. Calvan was strategically located directly below Traver's laboratory. Entrances to various tunnels originated from the laboratory, hidden by elaborate mazes of plants and flowers. Only one circuitous path led to this underground chamber through the garden. The only other way out was to crawl up the fireplace to the chimney that rode to the main laboratory. This allowed a fire in the underground chamber while the smoke escaped up the laboratory's main chimney.

  The small spring would provide an adequate source for water and bathing. Lucien filled up the barrel and carried it back to Calvan and into the chamber. Aislan lay on her stomach on the bed, reading. She looked startled when she saw the huge barrel he lugged in. Eventually, he would train her to apply enough power to lift the barrel herself, with water in it. He did not like the thought of Aislan being helpless ever again if she faced mere brute force.

  Lucien set a pot in the hearth and made soup while Aislan continued reading, completely absorbed.

  "'Tis interesting,” she said finally. “Lady Mallory's secret turned out to be that she is a sorceress who can enter dreams and manipulate men to do her wishes."

  "Such power,” he agreed as he stirred the boiling soup.

  "She is a wicked wench,” Aislan went on. “She uses her power to seduce men and learn all their secrets. She relays the information to her king, who is her secret lover because the queen is a jealous woman. What an active imagination this writer has!"

  "Jaden will be flattered you think so."

  Aislan gasped. “Surely you jest!” She looked at the name on the cover. “Lady Jennifer.” She laughed. “What a talented rascal. He wrote the entire book in metered verse."

  Lucien had no interest in Jaden's talents. “Come eat your supper.” He placed the bread on her plate and sliced the cheese. She came to the table still reading.

  Leave it to her to indulge her time reading about sexual escapades instead of more worthy pursuits like chemistry and philosophy. Had she even finished Laws and Politics or started on the sorcery dissent book? Lady Mallory would not help her if Aislan made it to the Court. Ladling the soup into her bowl, Lucien sat down to eat while she continued reading.

  "Eat your meal."

  Picking up the cheese, she nibbled it absently as she continued reading, glancing at him occasionally to comment on the story. “Lady Mallory is very naughty."

  He grunted and ate his meal. “Eat your soup.” He tried not to be offended at her lack of interest in the meal he had taken his time to prepare for her. She could read any time, but her soup would turn cold soon, and he would not reheat it for her.

  She glanced at him and realization dawned on her face. Her dark blue eyes sparkled in amusement. Closing the book, she put it aside and started eating earnestly, finishing his hard-earned effort down to the last spoonful.

  "'Tis wonderful, my kind sir."

  He grunted again, pleased she made an effort to down the concoction. He should not be too pathetically obvious about pleasing her, Lucien thought as he peeled an apple, quartered it, and cored it.

  "Eat that, too."

  "I ate all your delicious soup. I am full, Lucien!"

  "You are thin like a stick. Eat."

  Aislan touched her slim waist in a self-conscious manner. “I am too thin to be fashionable, am I not?"


  What a merciless tease. “You are adequate.” He shrugged.

  She bit her lower lip and cast her gaze to the table.

  "Oh, by the saints, do I need to wax poetic about your beauty?” he snapped. All the lash batting, endearment, preening, and wiles got through. Lucien needed to have sex with the vixen so badly, his head began to throb from straining his control. He could not focus beyond his cock and the excruciating need for relief, but he could not touch her, would not touch her. He grasped at any thought that could get his rampant erection under control. What he felt probably showed on his face.

  "Lucien.” She licked her lips.

  Because he had to be the one to take the logical step, Lucien stormed out of Calvan.

  * * * *

  Aislan woke the next morning and started reading the philosophy book. She ate a light meal of bread and cheese while she went through the book page by page, completely immersed in essays about knowledge and existence. By early afternoon, she was nearly finished when a passing definition caught her attention, but someone knocked at the door.

  It certainly could not be Lucien. Putting the book aside, she went to answer the door and found Jaden standing there with a stack of books under one arm.

  "Milady, I have come bearing gifts,” he declared.

  "More of yours? Lady Jennifer, you are full of wonder!"

  "Ah, so you are told my secret!” Jaden came into the room and looked around. “'Tis hell—mmm—as dismal as ever, I mean. Where is my no-good cousin?"

  "I would not know."

  They spent the next few hours reading some outrageous passages from several of his books, which had her holding her belly from too much laughing, until Lucien came in.

  "You have plenty of wenches to bed up there. Why must you keep sniffing around her?” Lucien looked fed up.

  "I only brought her new books."

  Lucien glared while Jaden grinned from ear to ear.

  "I take it I'd better leave.” Jaden smiled.

  "You take it right."

  Lucien practically tossed the amused Jaden out the door. The younger man went off down the tunnel, still laughing. Aislan wiped the smile from her face immediately when Lucien slammed the door and turned around. He glowered at her, a barrel of gloom.

  "Have you eaten?” Even as he talked, he put together a simple meal involving nothing more than cutting the bread and cheese.

  "I am not hungry."

  "Eat,” he ordered. “You need energy if you want to continue training the rest of today."

  Training turned out to be regeneration. For the next couple of hours, Lucien taught her how to relax completely and learn to sit without getting sore by focusing on circulating her blood through her limbs. When Lucien unlaced the back of her tunic, she thought her wildly beating heart had plummeted to her stomach. He braced her shoulders to prevent her from turning around.

  "No, Aislan. Your clothes hinder my efforts. You do not have a lot of time, so do not waste this session."

  He loosened the lace until he could spread the back of her tunic wide, then he unlaced her shift, too. He did not take her clothes off, simply wedging his hands through the laces and pressing his palms against her naked skin under her shoulder blades. Aislan found it hypocritical, this sudden refusal to deal with her naked back. However, without the clothes, his energy swept through her in full force, and she resolved not to be critical of what he did again. He had done everything in her interest.

  Aislan sat a long time while he prepared her. Her body adjusted to the gentle ministration as Lucien transferred faint waves of life force into her. In the confinement of the dark chamber lit with candles, with his large, warm hands against her back, Aislan let herself go as she leaned back against him.

  "No, Aislan, take this seriously,” he reprimanded.

  She instantly straightened. “I am sorry,” she whispered, properly chastised.

  After a while, Lucien said, “So far, you have learned only the rudiments of relaxation and quick regeneration. ‘Twill be all you need on a daily basis. All sorcerers learn their limitations during training, so they do not push beyond their capabilities because of the risks of serious injuries. Therefore, use this only as a last resort. If you break out of intensive regeneration improperly, you will strain your heart and damage your brain."

  A long time later, with her eyes closed, even when Aislan struggled to stay awake, it became more difficult. He did something that made her extremely sleepy, so she drifted off.

  "You have to learn to stay awake!” He shook her. “You cannot fall asleep in the middle of regeneration."

  She tried hard to stay awake, and she succeeded for what seemed like a very long time, then she drifted off. Lucien pulled away, and Aislan pulled herself out of the pitch darkness of her mind.

  "Aislan, ‘tis not good. You must stay awake."

  "I tried.” She wanted to weep. “I tried hard to stay awake."

  He shook his head, but not in disapproval. Looking perplexed, Lucien closed his eyes and rubbed his brow. “Something is not right.” He now stared at her. “Your body fights against deep regeneration. Until you learn how to do this properly, you will not be able to develop significant sorcery skills. If you injured yourself while applying sorcery, how will you heal yourself?"

  "Oh!” How could she be so hopeless?

  "Let's not give up before we even started, shall we? ‘Tis what the discovery process is all about.” He turned her around. “Every sorcerer must know how to regenerate. If you cannot, then we need to know why, or else we find another method that will work for you."

  He worked on her for the next few hours. They ate, then resumed, and late in the night, he broke free of testing her energy and said suddenly, “If you want a bath, there is a spring nearby. The water is chilly, though."

  * * * *

  Lucien gathered a towel and new clothes, then took Aislan to the spring. He sat on one of the boulders.

  "What a nice surprise.” She laughed in delight. “I feared I would go without bathing for the next sennight!"

  He watched as she pushed her dress down the shapely hips. He must be a damn fool to invite trouble when he knew he could not resist her. This could have waited until tomorrow, as if tomorrow he would be any less horny. Aislan pushed her shift down, and Lucien ogled her as if he had never seen her body before.

  "Will you join me?” she asked, her lovely breasts lusciously jiggling in great exaggeration at the cold.

  "I already bathed this morning,” and the night before, and the morning of that day. He had spent the past few nights on the bank of the stream and had never been cleaner.

  Aislan no doubt could see how his stiff cock pointed her way. He could feel it twitching and struggling to bore a hole through his braes.

  "Wait.” His voice sounded too weak, so he cleared his throat. “Pull your shift back on."

  "Why?” the vixen asked, making no move to do so.

  His cock now stood so straight, it would not surprise Lucien if it wedged its own way out of the braes. Aislan stared at it thoughtfully, smiling. He could expire on the spot, and he only had himself to blame. He had the option of turning his back to her, but did he? No, a glutton for punishment, his cock drooled over the sight of her lissome body. Aislan had gained an appetite the past fortnight to fill out just enough to be on the side of voluptuousness, as if she was not alluring enough already.

  "Leave your shift on!"

  "Why, this modesty is unlike you, my dear,” she said, the consummate seductress.

  His gaze lingered on her breasts until she finally pulled her shift over them again. “Just get in the water."

  He let her swim for a while until he could regain control. He tried to push his cock down, then resigned and let it rear however it wanted. Lucien walked to the water's edge and watched as Aislan turned onto her back to float, her attention also focused on him. He went down on his haunch where he would not look so ludicrous standing there with a rampant hard-on.

  "Aislan, go
under and stay there. Show me how long you can last."

  She looked surprised, but she immediately understood. He knew she would catch on quickly because of her high intelligence. Her naivety had stemmed from being sheltered all her life, but she learned fast. From where he knelt, Lucien could see the pale outline of her body beneath the moonlit water. She moved occasionally, swimming about, but the water was shallow and the spring small, so she stayed in the general vicinity in his view.

  Lucien stood up and looked around, listening for sounds in the garden behind him, hearing nothing out of the ordinary. However, he could not detect one Stealth sorcerer, so he had to be careful. Turning back to Aislan, he watched her body beneath the water. She swam to one end of the spring, then back, then stayed put again. Lucien knew nothing about Fluid sorcery. Only the Sorsverein, through a lifetime of experience, would know the right approach. Everyone else had to go through a learning process.

  Waiting for as long as he could, finally, Lucien waded into the water. When he neared her, Aislan surfaced and got to her feet. She breathed slightly fast, but not panting, so she had not even reached a stress point. The water lapped about her slim waist. Under the moonlight, her face was pale but gorgeous, her slender body waiflike and alluring. He had never seen a lovelier woman, and such a brilliant one, too. Lucien loved her, his sweet and beautiful angel, who had been denied all she could have, but not any more if he could help it.

  He tried to focus on the task at hand. “The water is cold, but you can learn to adjust to the temperature if this turns out to be your practice ground. Now, let's test to see if you will have better luck with deep regeneration while underwater."

  * * * *

  The woman with the long, flaxen hair floated closer. She held out her hand. “Come, my dear, I have waited for you for a long time."

  She wore a white robe that floated about her thin body, her face almost indistinguishable in the haziness of the fog. Half of her white hair covered her face. Behind her, a light glowed faintly.

  "Come,” the woman said again, reaching, her grasping fingers like icy claws. “We belong together."