by Jesse Teller
Madeline gasped.
“Yes, Madeline, someone said sex. Let’s everyone freak out about it,” Rachel said.
“Sex can get dangerous,” Ellen said. “Anything can happen. You need to be careful.”
“I don’t let him finish inside of me. He is not going to get me pregnant. We are careful.”
“If not in you, then where?” Ellen said.
“My mouth mostly.”
“Rachel!” Madeline said.
“Don’t judge me until you have tried it,” Rachel said.
Ellen looked at Madeline and shrugged. “Not that bad at all actually.”
Madeline turned a violent shade of red and could not figure out what to do with her hands.
“Just sex?” Ellen said.
“Yes, definitely.”
“Show me what you are wearing,” Ellen said.
Rachel shook her head.
“Prove we are talking about just sex. Show me what you are wearing,” Ellen said.
Rachel held them off as long as she could, but when they would not give her the key, and they would not budge on their demands, she finally pulled her shirt off over her head and held her arms out wide.
“Are you happy now?” Rachel asked.
The shirt was white, flowing and soft. It had bold red roses embroidered on the lapel. The fabric was light and free, and showed a great deal of her cleavage. It accented her feminine features in a gentle way, and she touched the fabric, feeling his fingers brushing it as she did. It was a woman’s blouse, a shirt reserved for a lady. She looked at Ellen, who sat staring. She looked at Madeline, who could not close her mouth.
Rachel pulled the man’s shirt back over her head and down around her waist.
“That is not a sex shirt,” Ellen said. “That is the shirt of a woman who wants to be respected, who wants to be considered for more than just a body.”
“Why him?” Madeline said. “Of all the men in Tergor, of all the men on the mountain, why Whelter? He is—”
“What is he? What’s the rest of that thought?” Rachel said, her voice was near to shouting, but she did not care.
“He is nice enough, big, and I guess strong but he is not—” Madeline said. “He is just not.... He is rough. He is not of the Seven. He is not the pick Gerber would make for his princess. He is loud. He is crass. He is—”
“Perfect,” Rachel said. “He is perfect. He is the only man in this city. I saw him take a kick to his beautiful man parts and laugh. I watched him fight seven men and crush them all. I have stood above the arena and watched grown men worship him. He is a legend. He is hard and powerful as if to redefine the word, and he—” She looked at her friends, heartbreak on their faces. “He is not the man to marry me. He can’t have me. Papa would kill him if he knew I was even thinking about touching him, let alone wanting to give him children.”
Rachel broke into sobs. “For my entire life Papa has been talking about the king of men I must marry. He has his eye set on Jordai Stonefist, Helgor Steeltooth or Erick Flurryfist. He wants me to marry a Son of the Seven.” She pulled at her hair and dropped into the couch. “He told me the Fury princess, the daughter of Grethel, must have a god of a husband. Must have Seven blood in him. Papa told me he will slit the throat of the unworthy man that lays a finger to me, let alone entered every single place I could let him in. It would kill Papa to see me even talking to Whelter.”
“You have to tell him. You have to let your father know this is your love, that you are meant to be with each other,” Madeline said. “You have him now, you have your chance. Do not waste time, Rachel. Seize him now before he gets snagged by another.”
“I can’t. My papa expects me to marry well. Not the son of a drunkard. Papa has told me many times that brew is part of our culture, but not to be worshiped. He points at Whelter when he says it. He actually said if you find a husband who worships the drink, you will give birth to a dolt like Whelter.”
She tried to fight back the tears but they came anyway. “He says the most horrible things about Whelter. Says Flak needs to chase him away, that the man can only bring dishonor. Papa has disliked and distrusted Whelter for as long as I can remember. He would rather me marry a Clay than Whelter.”
“How does he treat you?” Ellen asked. “Does he treat you like a sex object or a respectable woman?”
Rachel threw her arms in the air and sobbed. “Both,” she said. “He treats me like a princess until I ask him to do otherwise. He never asks to do anything to me, he waits for me to suggest everything. He gives me what I want from him. Always.” She shook her head. “Always.”
“Talk to your father,” Ellen said. “You can’t keep this from him. You two have always been close. He will see your heart, and in the end, a father wants his daughter to be happy more than anything else.”
“Rachel, you have to talk to him,” Madeline said.
“I have to go. Papa wants me to have supper with him tonight. He has news for me, and says it is celebration worthy,” Rachel said. “I don’t have much time and I was hoping to see Whelter today before I have to be Gerber Beastscowl’s daughter.”
“Go,” Ellen said, tossing the key. “Be with him, but I want to give you this advice. Take this from a woman who was only with her love for five years. Tell him now how you feel about him. Tell him now before fate takes him from you. These are moments you can’t get back.”
Rachel opened the door and rushed to find Summer. She was running out of daylight.
Whelter held Rachel in his lap for a long while, just looking her in the eye. Slowly he untied the strings of the blouse she wore, his eyes never leaving hers. She saw an intensity in those eyes the likes of which she had never seen before, a blazing need that did not scare her. The look in his eyes expressed the need she felt within, as if he could sense her desire and match it with his own, speaking it into vibrant truth for them both. When her blouse was loose, he pulled it down below her breasts, but his eyes never left hers.
She felt warm for him, moist and ready, but there seemed to be time now to just look at him.
She knew there wasn’t. The sun was leaving them there to wallow in darkness. The light of day was ashamed of them, and soon it would leave them bereft and alone. She touched his face, and he leaned close to her. They touched their foreheads together, and she suddenly couldn’t breathe.
She tried to say his name, but the word was caught between her heart and her mouth. She looked up at the trees above her, and he kissed her neck. She cradled his head in her hands as he feasted on her flesh.
She lost track of time, lost a moment of her life. She remembered kissing him, remembered pushing him to the ground, then nothing but his body around her. She held him there, unable to move, unable to pull away, as if this moment were their last and she would never have him again.
They did not speak; words seemed a distant idea too complicated for them now. They did not moan or in any way make any sound.
“What is it?” he asked after a long silence.
She struggled to sit up, though her body begged to lie and die, and she straddled his chest. A surge of fear, real and life threatening, rose up in her, and she fought for the words.
She didn’t think she could say them. Didn’t think she could ever summon up the courage. She remembered the moment when she was a child and the Sons of the Seven came to get her from Fury land. She stood on that roof preparing to fire down hell on those men, and remembered she had been scared.
But not this scared.
The first time she had seen Summer and that bear stopped before her and roared in her face, she had not been this scared. No feat of bravery she had ever performed prepared her for this.
“I need to tell you something.” She looked him in the eye. “Now you have to listen, and you have to know this is not easy. And it will lead us to Hell. This is our damnation, and we can’t, I can’t, come back from this.” He held a hand up to stop her.
“Are you telling me you don’t want to see
me anymore? That this is over? Is that what you are telling me?”
“No,” she said.
“Then I’m going to be fine. Then we are going be fine. Be honest with me and we will figure it out.”
“I’m in love with you,” she said. The words fired from her body like a volley of arrows. She remembered the feeling of sending an arrow into flight, and she remembered how satisfying it always was.
The arrow wants to fly, her instructor said all those years ago. It is only waiting for the right moment and the right warrior to fly from.
She realized this was that moment, and she was that warrior.
He said nothing. He looked at her. He smiled. “Thank you for saying that, Rachel. I know to say that where another could hear would get us both killed. Thank you for giving me this gift. Can I say something?”
She bit her lip and nodded.
“When you came into my room that night and gave yourself to me, I was stolen away by you. Before you even took your mask off, I knew this was no normal fuck. I knew this was something more. I was scared for a long time about being caught with you. Scared Gerber would kill me or have me driven from the city, but I don’t care about that anymore. If he runs me off, he is too damn late. I am already in love with his daughter. She is already mine forever. I don’t care if your father kills me because I have tasted your lips. I have been inside you and I will never be the same. When your father gives you to another man, I will close myself down. I will never have sex with another woman again. I am your man whether your father gives you to me or not. I love you completely.
“You have been mine since that night. And when you stop coming here, when you are married to another man, that man will not hold the same woman I did. He will not share the same affection I did. No one can take you away from me, Rachel, because you will be my one love for the rest of my life.
“I’m a mutt. My father is a drunkard and my mother left when I was born. No one wanted me, not even my father before Flak took me in as his friend. No one wanted anything to do with me. And yeah, I’m loud and rude. I say the wrong things sometimes, and I don’t know how to live an honorable life. I’m a street fighter and I don’t have a single fine thing. But you love me. You love Whelter. You love the Mad Dog.
“And I love you. You brought me to life. Gave me a reason to live, a reason to love. You are the one, Rachel. I didn’t even know love could do this to a man. Didn’t know it could feel this way. If I had, I would have been desperate to find it all of my life.”
In the dark she could not see his face. Just the vague outline of his head and the great void of his body.
She wept. She wept in happiness, and wept with the hard truth that she would never have him. He was right here and as far away as the distant mountains. He was hers… and yet he would never be.
*******
Leaving him made her feel empty. She climbed on Summer and rode away, knowing she could never be seen with him. He watched her go and his face was the same as it always was as she left. Stunned and withering.
When she made it into the city, she heard bells going off all over. Betten was early. He had the four Sons of the Seven with him, and he was ringing himself home. All over the seven ghettos, bells were going off, and Rachel went home.
She walked in the door and something tripped her. Before she could get to her feet, a body slammed into hers, and she hit her head on the floor. She growled. Someone grabbed her swords from her hip and tossed them to the ends of the room. She clawed at the floor and felt an elbow slam into her back. She spun around, looking up, Brenden standing over her. He grinned at her, and she shook her head.
With a twirl of her legs, she dropped him, spun on her hand and was up in a flash. She was on him and turning. She gripped his arm, wrapped her legs around his head and leaned back. Before she could get the lock on him, he bit her leg hard. She cursed and rolled away. He jumped to his feet and snarled.
She hissed, and he laughed. When he held his arms out to her, she rushed to them. He hugged her and spun her around.
“You were beat,” he said with a laugh.
“You have never beaten me a day in your life,” she said, punching him in the face. He grinned and smacked her in the back of the head.
“That was for Hunet.”
She rubbed her head and sighed. “How is he?”
“Happy, if not a bit bored. He longs for battle but knows peace is more honorable. We fight all the time.” He laughed. “The tribe stands back and watches in horror. They fear we will kill each other, I think. I worry what he will do when the time comes for me to leave.”
“We didn’t expect you for another day, boy,” Gerber shouted as he walked into the room. He held his arms out, and Brenden ran to them. As Gerber enveloped him in a hug Rachel had to remind herself her brother was a man grown. For, in that moment, he looked like a kid again. Sadness that Hunet was not there rose up in her, and she batted it down, reminding herself she would not let anything sour her time with Brenden.
“Yenna has planned a dinner to celebrate your arrival. But it was to be tomorrow.”
There was a knock on the door. Gerber, Brenden, and Rachel yelled, “Come in,” at the same time.
The door swung wide and Flak walked in. He had Brock and Locke with him, and Brenden ran to them. They embraced, and she saw the vision of the future. These men all ruling and serving the Ragoth and Fendis people together, the two nations led by powerful men and reigning in a time of peace. Rachel knew this moment beautiful, and closed her eyes to savor it.
“My grandfather has commanded you come for the dinner,” Flak said.
“How can he be ready? They are a day early. How can the proper preparations be made so fast?”
“Do you doubt my mother?” Flak asked.
Gerber threw his hands up. “I will never doubt that woman’s ability to throw a meal together,” he said. “We will be there. Give us a moment and we will join you.”
“Get there when you can. I need to talk to Ellen,” Flak said.
They walked into Yenna’s dining hall, and Rachel walked to Ellen’s side and hugged her. Jordai was talking to her about the house she lived in.
“You will stay the mistress of Stonefist manor, and I will take your previous home as my own,” Jordai said. “I will not oust you from your home. As far as I am concerned, you are the dame of the Stonefist clan. I will serve you in whatever way you want me to and—”
Ellen opened her mouth to speak, but he shook her off with a wave of his hands. “And I will accept no argument,” he said.
“You are the Son of Colm,” Ellen said. “You wield the Stonefist, and you do so very well for a man never trained by a master. Now as far as you living in a home other than your seat, I will not hear of it. I will take a room in your home if you will allow me to, but I will not allow you to live anywhere but your seat. When you come to Tergor, you will be the patron of the Stonefist clan. Your rule must be absolute. I will not dampen it. I will advise when I can, but the Son of Colm is meant to rule this clan. I would be a poor replacement.”
“I cannot allow—”
“Rachel,” Ellen said. She turned and walked away. Rachel gripped Jordai by the collar and pulled him in to growl at him. Jordai’s eyes widened, and she grinned.
“Ellen is my friend. I will hurt you bad unless you do everything she tells you to.” Rachel kissed his nose. “Very well.” She turned to walk away. “It’s good to see you again, Stonefist.”
Rachel turned to the room and saw great heroes and fledgling heroes. Those that had been leading their people for decades and those still untested in leadership. She looked them all over. And she smiled. It seemed to her the nation would be in good hands.
Yenna sat at the table and Flak took his seat to Yenna’s left. Rachel’s papa sat the right and everyone else found seats as they were afforded them. Jordai pulled out a chair for Ellen and Rachel decided whatever woman got the honor of calling him husband would be happy indeed.
She looked around the table, and knew then something was missing. Her Whelter was not here. His absence would not be felt by any but her. But that deep pang of pain rested just above her heart where it had been growing for months. The spot that told her she would never sit beside him at a table like this. She would never hold his hand in public. She looked at her papa and had to admit that as much as she loved him, as much as she needed him and coveted his attention, she felt a stab of hate for him as well.
The food came, and Diana Redfist sat beside her husband Jessop, and talked quietly as her meal was being carried out. Her servants had prepared it all to her specifications. Rachel saw the succulent meats and the roasted vegetables set before her, and shoved thoughts of Whelter aside.
They ate, and she looked around the room, realizing her papa would move to have her marry one of the men in this room. She looked from Jordai to Helgor to Erick Flurryfist, and wondered who it might be. Suddenly, she did not want to eat.
The party went on for hours, and when no one could eat anymore, and every story had been told of valor and debauchery, Flak stood. The room fell silent. He picked up his wine mug and held it aloft.
“It is the fate of my line to see to many important things. My grandfather instructs me every day in ways to serve my people and guide them. One of the responsibilities of my family is to see to the welfare of every one of the Seven. We watch over each other. We guide one another and protect them in all things public and personal.
“I have been in talks with Gerber Beastscowl and Erick Flurryfist and a declaration of intent has been reached. It is my great pleasure to announce that Gerber has promised his daughter Rachel to Erick in marriage.”
The room erupted in applause. Mugs were being beaten on tabletops and things were being said, but Rachel could not hear any of it. She simply stared at the plate before her, fighting to figure out how to arrange her face. She looked up at Ellen, who sat with sorrow on her face, staring.