Children of the Sun

by Linda Winstead Jones

  “What then?”

  He hesitated. In truth, he didn’t know what then. At the moment, he could not bear to look beyond today.

  Chapter Seventeen

  There had not been a trail into these mountains which was fit for horses when her Aunt Juliet had first been taken there by the man who’d declared himself her husband. No, the trail had come later, when Queen Juliet’s sisters had insisted on visiting, and their husbands had objected to making the entire hike on foot. It had taken years and the efforts of men and Anwyn alike to fashion this steep but passable road, and even that would only take them partway. They would finish their journey on foot, as did all who visited The City.

  Ariana had been on this road many times, but never like this. Never with the fate of the world in her hands.

  Diella knew where she was heading, and there was no other way to get to The City but this road. She had decided to bypass the village, but would that make any difference? Would Ciro and his men be waiting around the next curve? Would they jump down from hiding places high above?

  Three days of travel, and so far all was well.

  In one sense all was well. The trip had been uneventful and the weather had been pleasant—if cooler than it would be in Arthes at this time of year. Beyond that, all was not well. Not at all.

  Ariana felt Sian behind her, even though she did not turn to look at him. What was she going to do? It wasn’t the war that concerned her, nor was it Keelia and Lyr and their part in the prophesy. She worried about Ciro and his soldiers, but they were not constantly on her mind. She didn’t even spend much time wondering if Sebestyen really had sons, and if they could be found.

  Instead a much more personal matter occupied her mind. What was she going to do about Sian?

  If the situation were different, perhaps she could seduce him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t want her in a physical sense. It wasn’t even as if he didn’t love her. If she were able to don an alluring gown and douse her skin in fragrant cream, he would not be able to resist her. Instead she was grubby and unkempt and dressed like a man. Her elbows and hands were rough, her feet ached, and her fair skin had suffered from the kiss of too much sun. It would be difficult to seduce even the most desperate of men in her present state.

  Besides, the problem she needed to conquer was his fear, a fear of loss which had grown over the years since he’d buried his wife and child. If she could concoct a potion to keep them from creating a child, and if she could promise him that what they had was temporary and would soon end, perhaps he would not care that she looked like a battered and scrawny sentinel.

  Little grew here, in this portion of the Mountains of the North, so she could not possibly gather the ingredients to make any sort of contraceptive potion. She certainly wouldn’t lie to him and tell him that she considered what they had found in their hearts temporary.

  So here they were, at an impossible impasse. What a fool she had been to think that love, when it came, would be enough to smooth all rough roads in her path.

  They stopped for the night well before sunset. The horses were tired. They only had enough feed for one more day, but by tomorrow afternoon they would arrive at the way station where they would leave their horses while they continued on foot. The way station was also new, a necessity since there were now more visitors to The City.

  Ariana remembered passing a night, with her mother and father and a few siblings, in this same spot many years ago. There was a small stream nearby, with cool, drinkable water. The rocky stream wasn’t deep enough for bathing, and the water was too cold in any case, but she could wash the dirt from her face, at least. A shallow cave would provide shelter from the winds, should they rise in the night as they sometimes did here.

  When she’d seen to her horse and washed her face—a true delight—Ariana laid out her bedroll so that she was situated in the mouth of the cave. The sunset was magnificent, and she watched it closely, and with wonder. So many things she’d taken for granted now had incalculable meaning, because she could not guarantee that she would be able to enjoy them tomorrow.

  Sian settled down close by, but not too close, and spread before him the prophesy which was always close at hand, stretching the paper over the rocky ground. He studied the words as if he expected to see something new, as if he had not already memorized each word.

  Ariana very quickly leapt up from her seat on the ground, and crossed the short distance that separated her from the enchanter. He surely heard her footsteps, but as usual he ignored her. He could not very well ignore her when she pressed the dirty toe of one boot into the middle of the paper he studied.

  Slowly, he lifted his head. Purple eyes caught in the light of the setting sun glared at her. “Yes?”

  “Tell me that you love me,” she insisted.

  Sian’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and he remained silent.

  “I know you do. I can feel it, and you know I can feel it, so why do you insist on hiding your feelings?”

  “Perhaps you are mistaken,” he offered casually.

  “I am not,” she said in a lowered voice. Her toe remained in place. “I don’t know if I will live for another day, or another year, or another hundred years. I do know that there is no time to waste no matter what the case might be. No time, Sian. I love you and I don’t mind saying so, even though I am tossing my heart out to be stomped on by a man who insists on pretending he doesn’t care when I know to the pit of my soul that he does.” Her voice grew more and more indignant as she delivered this speech.

  Something new sparked in Sian’s eyes. Something dangerous. “Speaking of souls, what do you think the state of mine might be, since Ciro so blithely invited me to join his court? How can you fight so valiantly for light, and still claim to love one whose soul is obviously dark?”

  “Not dark,” she whispered. “Damaged, perhaps, but not dark.”

  He did not seem soothed by the distinction as he returned his attention to the words her boot did not obscure. Ariana loosed some of her anger and sighed as she lowered herself to sit before Sian. She sat on top of the prophesy. Let him try to read it now.

  A stone wall was at his back, and she sat very close. Unless he was willing to push her aside, he could not rise and walk away. She placed her hand over his heart. He tensed. “Bitterness and regret make your soul gray. That doesn’t mean you’re not a good man, that doesn’t mean you’re fit in any way for Ciro’s court. If he could he would no doubt feed your bitterness, but it’s not necessary. You do that quite well yourself.”

  “Ariana...”

  “Let me finish, please.” Her fingers rocked over his heart. “I never thought that I would love any man the way I love you, and even though that love has brought me aggravation and heartbreak and moments of anger so brilliant they blinded me, I’m not sorry that I love you. I have come to believe that love is the greatest power any of us will ever know. I think it will be the power that defeats Ciro in the end, if we don’t allow him to take it away from us by filling all of us with fear, the way you have filled yourself with fear.

  “I now have an incredible power for healing, Sian. You saw what I could do to the sentinels who had been wounded in battle. I’ve been wondering if it’s possible that I can heal Arik, now that my powers have increased. I think maybe I can, and I pray he will live long enough for me to try. But when it comes to the soul, I can’t help you. You have to heal yourself, and that healing can only come through love. You have to know that our day or week or hundred years together will be worth whatever pain love brings you. You have to believe with your heart and soul that our love is worth the risk that comes with it.”

  Ariana was tempted to lean in and kiss him, but she didn’t. She’d pushed hard enough, and the next step was up to him. Instead of kissing him, as she wanted to do, she stood and backed away from Sian and the prophesy his grandfather had written.

  ***

  A magical fire lit their camp and produced a small amount of warmth. The fire was more illusion than rea
lity, but it served its purpose. It gave Sian something besides Ariana to stare at as he paced.

  She pretended to sleep, but of course she did not. He was too tense even to pretend at this point. Besides, someone had to keep an eye on her. Ciro’s men might be close by.

  He didn’t think they were. Not now, not yet. He didn’t feel the same tension that had come to him on the night they’d been ambushed, but in truth that meant nothing.

  So he paced, and mumbled beneath his breath, and played out a thousand scenarios, past and future, in his head.

  When he’d buried Jynna and their child, he hadn’t thought it would be possible ever to love again. He’d closed his heart, he’d dedicated himself to the study of magic, he’d separated himself as much as possible from other people and wallowed in the bitterness Ariana saw so well.

  What Ariana felt from him was real. He did love her. He didn’t want to, he didn’t like it, and the timing was horrendous. But he did love her.

  She feigned sleep just inside the shallow cave, her head turned away from him. The next move, if there was to be one, was his. In truth, his decision was simple. Did he continue to fall headlong into this uncertain world with Ariana or without her? Did he allow her to fall with or without him?

  Sian turned his back on the fire and stalked to her, and when he was close he dropped down to his haunches. The woman he loved deserved better than a rough bedroll and a chilly cave, so he gave it to her, in his own way. He waved his hand and a hint of wizard’s light touched the cave. Her bedroll seemed to shift into a soft mattress covered in the finest sheets. The scent of fine oils filled the night. As long as he maintained his focus, this is what she would see and feel. Luxury. Comfort. A small portion of what she ought to have.

  Ariana rolled over and smiled at him. “All the nights I slept on the hard ground, and you can do this?”

  “For a while.”

  “It takes a lot of power, doesn’t it?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He lay down beside her so they were on their sides, face to face and chest to chest.

  Ariana glanced down at her own uniform-clad body. She touched a strand of wildly curling hair. “The least you could do is make me beautiful for you.”

  He tucked his finger beneath her chin and made her look him in the eye. “You are beautiful. Always, but never more so than right now.” He kissed her, as he had longed to for days. He allowed complete surrender to wash over and through him. He could guarantee nothing. Not her safety, not his... not that of a child they might make, tonight or tomorrow or on some day far in the future. He could not promise that any of them would see tomorrow.

  If tomorrow came, they would see it together.

  He removed Ariana’s vest, and then unbuttoned her emerald green shirt. When it opened as far as it would go, which was midway down her torso, he lowered his head and kissed the soft skin that was revealed. Between her breasts, the pale globes, the rosy and pebbled nipples... he kissed them all.

  Most of all, he kissed the place beneath her breasts, where Ciro’s knife had pierced her skin. There was not so much as a faint scar to mar the perfection of her flesh, not a bruise or a scratch. She had healed completely. It was a miracle. He held a miracle in his hands, and miracles should not be thrown away in the name of fear.

  “I love you,” he said as he moved his mouth to her throat. His lips brushed against the leather cord that bound them together in so many ways. “I tried not to. I tried very hard.”

  “Yes, you did,” Ariana whispered as she clutched at his hair.

  “I thought it would be best if I didn’t. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t.”

  “Silly man,” she responded dreamily.

  He sat up, raised Ariana gently, and pulled the annoyingly inconvenient shirt over her head. Blond curls tumbled everywhere. Down her back, over her shoulder, even across one cheek. He was so distracted just by the sight of her that his wizard’s light flickered, and for a moment she sat upon a scratchy bedroll meant for a battle-toughened sentinel. He regained his focus and once again there was a soft mattress beneath her.

  She smiled, casting him a knowing glance and reaching out to unfasten a few of his buttons with slender fingers. Sian suffered a momentary lapse. “A child at this time...”

  “Is not a certainty,” she interrupted. “Besides, my mother’s magic was always stronger when she was carrying a child. Perhaps I inherited that trait from her.”

  “You are not yet safe.”

  “Who is safe, love? Who is really and truly safe?”

  “No one.”

  She pulled his shirt over his head, as he had hers, and tossed it away without taking her eyes from his. “No one,” she repeated. “Why, my mother carried Duran during the final months of the revolution. She marched with Arik and his rebels, and my father, of course. She never spoke of fighting, but she was there, with child, and somehow all was well.”

  He would keep an army between her and Ciro, if need be. Child or no child, he would protect Ariana.

  ***

  Sian undressed her, and she undressed him. They kissed and caressed like lovers who had been apart too long. His enchantment touched her, making her feel as if they were separated from reality, as if this place existed just for them and they were, for a while, completely sheltered from what had passed and what was yet to come.

  All either of them wore were the bits of leather cord around their necks. Three strands, which had never been removed. Three strands, which bound them to one another at a soul-deep level.

  Ariana knew the softness beneath her back wasn’t real, but she enjoyed it for a time. She realized the scent of fine oils was not real, either, but it was nice all the same. As for the wizard’s light and the enchanted fire—she loved them because they allowed her to see the man she loved as he lavished attention upon her.

  “We will be married when we reach The City,” he said as he kissed the soft and sensitive skin of her belly. Ariana laughed lightly, and she shuddered deep. “If you wish it.”

  “I do.” He lifted his head and glared at her. “Don’t you?”

  Conventions didn’t seem very important at the moment. “Words spoken before others mean nothing to me. They’re an insignificant formality. You’re my husband. I claim you the way the Anywn choose their mates, and declare that it is so.”

  Sian continued to kiss her. He breathed deeply and raked the palm of one hand across her hip. “We are not Anwyn.”

  “No, but it seems a logical way to do things.” She gasped when he suckled a nipple deep. Her trembling fingers wound through his hair, and her thighs parted. She wanted him now... she had wanted him since the moment he’d changed the direction of his steady pacing and come to her. “Besides, these leather chokers bind us more surely than any words spoken before a priest, do they not?”

  His answer was a gentle moan.

  Gradually, Sian’s enchantment faded. The fire went out with a gentle pop. The sweet scent that had filled the cave diminished, leaving only a memory. The softness beneath her was replaced by the roughness of a blanket and the hardness of stone.

  Everything of Sian was with her now. With them. He had no energy or concentration left for his magic.

  He rolled over onto his back, dragging her with him. Ariana straddled his body, and he was right there, hard and throbbing. A shift and he would be inside her, but even though she was eager, she was in no hurry. This was a night to be savored, not rushed. Like the sunset, she didn’t know if the like would come again.

  In the name of savoring, Ariana stroked Sian’s length with her hand while she leaned down to kiss his neck and his chest. Her lips trailed across the throbbing vein in his throat and her tongue flickered there, tasting flesh and leather. The smell of his skin was more erotic than the magical scents which had filled the cave before she’d stolen his ability to create them. The taste of him was more luxurious than any mattress or fine sheet. The sensation of his hand on her body was more beautiful than anything she had ever thought to experience
.

  So many times she had looked into his eyes and felt as if she could fall into them. That was how she felt now, as if she was literally falling into Sian in ways she had not known possible. She closed her fingers around him and teased with a long stroke, softly and then harder, and then softly again, until he groaned and thrust up into her hand.

  This was her enchanter out of control. At this moment he was hers, and hers alone.

  Sian guided himself into her, and the sensation of him filling her trembling body took her breath away. The cave was dark without the wizard’s light, but she could feel so well. She could feel everything. She rose and fell, guiding him into her body and then rising up and away. Again. Again. His hands rested on her hips, and he guided her. Faster. Deeper. Everything disappeared but the way she felt for this man. Love, lust, friendship, need... joy. No matter what happened outside the walls of the cave, they all existed for her and for him.

  She cried out as release washed through her, fracturing and fluttering through her body. Sian came with her, his body stiffening and shuddering beneath hers, the seed he was afraid to spill filling her waiting body.

  Everything slowed, and she dropped down to lay her head on Sian’s shoulder. Heavens, she could not breathe. Not yet.

  Moments passed before she saw the purple tinge of wizard’s light surround her. Later, still before a word had been spoken, the fire outside leapt to life again.

  Almost lazily, Sian rolled her onto her side, and she realized that again the softness of enchantment cushioned her. He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I love you, Ariana. I have loved you for a long while.”

  “I love you, too, with all I have to give.” She draped one naked leg across his and held him that way, as well as with her arms. “We are in the mountains of the Anwyn. Can I not simply call you husband now? Can I not claim you as they claim one another? I do not feel the need for the words of others. We are wed, in all ways that matter.” She touched the leather at his throat.