Temple of Fyre (Island of Fyre)

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Temple of Fyre (Island of Fyre) Page 4

by Janet Lane-Walters


  “Water,” she croaked.

  “Who?” He removed the fyrestone from her hand and slid it to his back.

  “Help me, please.” She met his gaze, felt an odd connection and a sense of belonging with him.

  He nodded. “I will. Let me get you into the bath. Then I want to know who you are and who abused you.”

  How much could she tell him? When she took a step, she staggered. He lifted and carried her to the bathing room. After stripping away her small clothes, he lowered her into the tub.

  At first, the warmth of the water soothed her aches. Then the cuts and thorn slashes on her back, arms and legs throbbed. Though she tried to remain silent, she moaned.

  He filled a cup with water and stirred a powder into the liquid. “This will help the pain.” He held the cup to her lips.

  Ria gulped and nearly gagged over the bitter taste. “Awful.”

  He refilled the cup with water. “Here.”

  The cool liquid washed away the taste and soothed the rawness of her throat. After several minutes, the acute edge of the pain vanished, and she felt as if she floated. What had he given her? She looked up. “What will you do with me?”

  He stroked her cheek and leaned closer. “What I would do, and what I will are vastly different. Tell me who you are.”

  She took the cloth and soap from his hand. He was a stone seeker who brought crystals to the temple and sold them to the priestesses. Wouldn’t his loyalty belong to those who gave him coins?

  “How were you injured?” he asked. “What did you do to deserve such brutal punishment? With your beauty, you could have found a man to protect you.”

  Ria continued washing. How could she answer without telling him she’d been declared a traitor to the temple and had been stoned?

  He touched her shoulder. “If I’m to help you escape whoever hurt you, I must know the truth.”

  Sincerity rang in his voice. Would he believe her? No matter what she said, he controlled her future. She took a deep breath. What choice did she have? She had to trust him, at least for now. “I’m Ria and come from a nomad clan. I was an acolyte in the temple. Malera chose me as her successor.”

  He frowned. “Then why are you in this condition?”

  “On the day of my testing, I refused to perform the task the chief priestess set.”

  “Why?”

  Ria shuddered. “She wanted me to use fire to destroy the flocks, herds, fields, and orchards, of a hamlet to force the people to sell their children to the salvers. She tried to seize control of the flames. We fought and the stones were destroyed. She named me a traitor and ordered a stoning. She used her flail to raise blood and left me for the carrion crows. Those dark birds drove me through the fyrethorn hedge.”

  “Malera did this?”

  “Yes.”

  “So like me, you have been cast out.”

  “What will you do with me?” She caught her lower lip between her teeth.

  “I won’t give you to her.” He dipped water to wet her hair.

  Relief filled her. She closed her eyes. The herb he’d given her made her feel drowsy. The movement of his fingers on her scalp made her want to purr. His hands were strong. When he tilted her head back to rinse her hair, one of his fingers brushed her breast. Streams of heat flowed to her lower abdomen. Lassitude warred with a need she didn’t understand. The soap stung the slashes on her back and arms. She stopped fighting the effects of the herbs and allowed sleep to overcome her.

  Chapter Three

  Ari grabbed Ria just before she slid beneath the water. He quickly rinsed her hair and wrapped her in toweling. After placing her on the bed, he studied her face. Even with the flame-touched hair cut to just below her ears, she was lovely. A strong desire to cover her face with kisses arose.

  He groaned. Now wasn’t the time. He turned her to her stomach and struggled with a gush of anger. The livid bruises on her back, buttocks, and thighs, and the now bleeding slashes, bore testimony to the abuse she’d suffered. The jagged tears from the thorns oozed. Desire became fury toward the chief priestess.

  He carefully examined Ria’s arms. He feared some of the wounds held bits of the poisonous fyrethorns. Why had she been brutalized? She had admitted disobeying the chief priestess, but had her defiance deserved such harsh punishment?

  Ari remembered his encounter with Malera. The woman had made him feel uncomfortable. But that had been a response to her lust when he’d felt no desire for her. Was the chief priestess evil, or had Malera's long tenure made her believe her wants were supreme? Had she been jealous of the younger priestess? Whatever the reason, he would never return Ria to the temple.

  He filled the cup with water and dangled the scarlet fyrestone over the center. The liquid bubbled. He stirred herbs into the cup until they formed a paste. He carried the cup, strips of bandaging and his knife to the bed where he began to treat her wounds. Thankfully, she remained unconscious. He used the knife to remove bits of cloth and thorns from the gouges on her arms. After applying the paste, he bound the areas with strips of cloth. Then, he sprinkled an herbal mixture on the bleeding slashes on her back and legs.

  A knock on the door startled him. Hastily, he covered Ria, donned a caftan and opened the door. A pair of maidservants carried trays into the room. The aromas of the beef and spices brought his hunger to the fore. The innkeeper’s son followed with the ale and spiritus.

  Ari pressed a copper coin into each woman’s hand and added one to the cost of the meal. The young man glanced at the bed. Ari ushered the three to the door. Had the innkeeper’s son observed his guest closely enough to identify her? Though the presence of a woman or a boy wouldn’t be questioned, a sick one might raise suspicions.

  After the three departed, he thudded the heavy bar into place. Ria cried out. Ari mixed feverfage in some barley water and added a pinch of the soporific he’d given her earlier. He carried the cup and a bowl of broth to the bed. After propping her on the pillows, he held the cup to her mouth.

  She opened her eyes. “Do you have a name?”

  “Ari.”

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “When I was five, two stone seekers found me. They trained me to follow their trade. By helping you, I pass along the good done to me.” He pressed the cup to her lips. “Drink. It will help you heal.”

  She sipped and made a face. “’Tis still bitter.”

  “Drink, then I’ll give you some broth.”

  She finished the potion and drank several mouthfuls of broth. “Where’s my caftan?”

  “’Tis not fit to wear.”

  “I know. Don’t leave the robe where anyone can find it. The caftan was made for the temple.”

  “I’ll dispose of it carefully. When I go to the market, I’ll bury it in a trash heap.” He offered her more broth. “I’ll purchase your clothes tomorrow.”

  “What kind of clothes?”

  “Breeches and tunics. ‘Twill be better if you remain a boy.”

  She pushed the cup away. “My presence brings you danger. Also, I could harm you.”

  He laughed. “A mite like you? How?”

  She touched his arm. “For the scarlet crystal. I want a fyrestone almost as much as I want life.”

  As though responding to her need, the stone warmed. Heat spread through him. His awareness of her was acute, and for the moment, futile. He brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Sleep. Grow strong and I will show you all the fyrestones you could desire.” He stroked her hair. “Then I’ll show you more.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “How a fire builds between a man and a woman.” He retreated from the bed and sat at the table to enjoy his meal.

  After eating the hearty meal, Ari used his stone to light several candles. He glanced toward the bed. Ria had thrown off the covers. She lay on her side with one hand touching the nest of fire-touched hair between her thighs. He groaned and pulled the sheet over her. He’d been six lunars without a woman. He sucked in a breath and fought a
surge of desire that threatened to turn him into a rutting beast.

  He wanted her, and he would have her. He’d felt desire and need since the moment he’d realized she was a woman. When she’d touched the scarlet fyrestone, he’d sensed a connection between them. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but in time, he would learn.

  Ari poured the rest of the ale into a mug and slouched on the bench. When she was no longer injured, fevered, and wary, he would show her the pleasures of the body. Until her need for physical relief matched his, he would wait. As he sipped the ale, he listened to the sounds of merry-making from the lane outside. He began to plan, not only a seduction, but also a way to safely remove Ria from Rosti.

  When the candles burned low, he tossed his caftan over the foot rail and lay on the far side of the bed. Ria had rolled to her belly. He drew a light blanket over the sheet. Though he feared sleep would be illusive, exhaustion carried him into dreams.

  Ria. He stroked her face. Her tongue darted between her lips and tasted his palm. She caressed his chest. Her hand slid over his belly and stroked his rod. He groaned and pulled her into his arms. As he kissed her, she vanished. She appeared in the distance. He followed. Though he ran, she remained just out of reach.

  The light of the rising sun woke him. Ari eased from the bed and went to the door. His clean clothes were in the hall. After dressing, he mixed herbs with barley water and spiritus. He sat on the edge of the bed and woke Ria. Her skin remained hot and her eyes were fever-glazed. He lifted her onto the pillows. “Drink.”

  She drained the cup. “Tastes better.”

  “’Tis the spiritus. I’m going out for a bit.”

  “The inn’s servants?” she asked.

  “Won’t enter when the door is closed. I’ll put the tray in the hall and return as soon as I can.”

  She closed her eyes. He waited until she slept, then slipped one of her sandals into his pocket to use as a template for boots. He rolled the torn and blood-stained caftan into a ball.

  When he reached the market square, the merchants were opening their stalls. A few early shoppers were about. Ari found a booth where used clothes were sold. He chose three pair of breeches, a half dozen tunics, stockings and small clothes. At a second stall, he rummaged through a bin, and by using her sandal for sizing, he found a pair of boots he believed would fit her slender foot. Though scuffed, the soles and uppers were solid. From a third merchant, he purchased a wide brimmed sun hat, two ponchos and a haversack. On his way back to the inn, he found a trash heap and buried the ruined caftan.

  * * *

  For two days, Ria slept more than she remained awake. On the morning of the third day with Ari, she woke with a start. She was curled against him. Her hand pressed against his thick, erect organ.

  He eased away from her. “Morning.”

  She touched his shoulder. “Hold me, please. You make me feel safer than I have since before I was sold to the slavers.”

  He groaned, and then wrapped his arms around her. “I won’t abandon you. When I leave Rosti, you’ll be with me. Since Jorg died, I’ve been without a partner.”

  “Wouldn’t a man be better?”

  He shook his head. “There are few men who want to hunt stone, and there are none I want as my partner.” He stroked her hair, kissed her forehead and lips.

  His kisses raised sensations quite different from those she’d felt the single time her betrothed had pressed his mouth to hers. The old man had held her in a tight embrace and ground his teeth against her lips. She looked up. “Show me the fires you spoke about.”

  He released her and left the bed. “My rod is ready, but ‘tis not my way to take and not give pleasure. You must gain strength before we join our bodies.”

  Ria frowned. Hadn’t she read something in the scrolls about the union of a man and a woman? ‘Twas different from what the priestesses had taught. She couldn’t remember the words, but she would. “Did you hire a healer to treat my wounds?”

  He pulled on his breeches. “No need. Jorg taught me what to do for wounds and fevers. Stone seekers spend most of their time in the hills and must care for their own ills.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the table. “I’ll fetch our morning meal. You must eat. The solstice is five days away and we must be gone before then.”

  “Why?”

  “During the ceremony, my fyrestone heats. I fear ‘twill betray me.” He looked away. “And Malera invited me to the temple for the celebration.”

  Ria’s eyes widened. “Does she want you for the harras?”

  He shook his head. “Just for the night. She knows I’m an expert seeker so she won’t pen me. I want no part of her.” He reached for a tunic and pulled on his boots. He left the room, and returned a short time later with a laden tray.

  Ria dished a bowl of porridge and added honey. “Do you believe we can escape? If Malera learns I’m alive, she’ll search for me. The gate guards belong to the temple. When we leave, I could be recognized.”

  Ari patted her hand. “With your short hair and dressed as a boy, there should be no problem. The sun hat will shield your face. The guards are bored. Once I answer their questions, the gates will be opened.”

  She prayed he was right.

  After eating, he helped her make several circuits of the room. She staggered. He caught her against his chest. Her hand pressed against the fyrestone. Strength flooded her body.

  * * *

  Malera cradled the fyrestone she’d claimed as her own from the ones the stone seeker had brought. Through this crystal, she would control the solstice fire. With Ria dead, there was no one among the priestesses or acolytes strong enough to issue a challenge. Her hand closed around the stone.

  Ria had deserved death. The young woman had pitted her will against the person she should have honored and obeyed. Malera smiled. Ria had had the potential for great power. Only the girl’s inexperience had allowed Malera to remain alive. For this, Ria had to die before she challenged the ruler of the temple again.

  A frisson of fear skittered along Malera’s spine. What would have happened if Ria had gained complete mastery of fire before she issued the challenge? The traitor could have prevailed

  Fire stirred in the depths of the crystal. In five days, the solstice ceremony would awe the commoners who gathered for the festival. Already alders from the other hamlets were arriving with their tithes. All except those from Gydon, but the commoners of that hamlet would seen learn the price of defiance.

  Malera prowled the room. She’d invited several of the more virile of the alders to join the private celebration in the rotunda. When the rites ended, her body would be aflame with desire. The stone seeker would be the first to quench those flames, but she would need other men. She quivered with eagerness and ran her hands over her body. The need for relief grew stronger.

  The harras studs could draw off some of the urgency. She nodded. Using those pale creatures was necessary. Her body ached for the hands and mouth of the sun-bronzed man who had brought fyrestones to sell. With a sigh, she imagined his body writhing and pleading for release. And when she allowed him to stroke his rod, she would bathe in the fountain of his essence.

  The beads of the curtain at the door rattled and cut short her fantasy of being serviced by the stone seeker. “Who comes?” The discordant rattle of the whites brought her tension to a peak.

  The strings parted. “I’ve news about the acolyte who betrayed the temple and was stoned.”

  “What?”

  “As you ordered, three of us went to gather her bones to be used as kindling for the solstice fire. There were none.”

  “What are you saying? How could the bones be gone? Though carrion crows are large, they can’t carry a body away.”

  The acolyte’s lower lip trembled. “The fyrethorn hedge was broken. We used the passage and found the grass flattened as though someone had lain there.”

  Malera strained to contain the anger threatening to explode with volcanic fury. “Show me.” When
she pushed through the beaded curtain, she nearly knocked the young woman against the wall. The white crystals of the curtain sounded in a cacophonic jangle. Malera’s sandals clapped on the marble floor. How could a body vanish? She’d seen the dark birds land and survey Ria’s body. Knowing fresh blood would draw the scavengers, she had slashed the traitor’s body with the flail. Had one of the priestesses aided the girl? Which one? Why?

  Questions churned and kept Malera’s anger simmering. Her sandals scraped across the tiles covering the rotunda floor. She reached the entrance and stepped into the morning sunlight. A few fluffy clouds dotted the aqua sky.

  Malera reached the place where Ria’s body should have been. Her eyes narrowed. What had happened? With care, she edged through the gap in the hedge and saw the matted grass. So Ria had escaped the birds. Where was she?

  She turned to the acolyte. “Surely the thorns poisoned her. Fetch the captain of the guards and one of the senior priestesses.”

  When the girl left, Malera returned to the lane and waited for the two she had summoned. She rubbed her thumb across the scarlet crystal. She could use the stone to search, but until more seekers arrived, she preferred to use other ways to search. The fire contained in the fyrestones wasn’t limitless. She tapped her foot in an impatient rhythm against the cobbles. Finally, the pair arrived.

  With terse words, she told them what had happened. “Priestesses and guards must go to the market and question people for news of anyone seeking help for fyrethorn poisoning. She must not escape punishment!”

  “And if we find nothing?” the priestess asked.

  “Then I’ll have to seek her in the flames. She has no fyrestone to protect her from such a search.”

  Once the guard captain and the senior priestess left, Malera prowled the hall of the temple. Though two stone seekers waited in the rotunda, she had no time for them. She sent the aging priestess who cared for the surplus major crystals to bargain with the men. Malera continued her restless rounds until the teams of searchers returned. All reported no news.

 

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