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Authors: Anny Cook

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With an impatient shake of his head, he sat up and yawned.
Time to rise and go out into the garden. If he hurried he would have time to
complete his exercises before Samara was up. Swiftly, he dressed, finished his
morning routine in the bathing room and padded out to the front porch
barefooted. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the morning scents of mint and basil
from Samara’s herb garden. Then with a smile, he went down to the small grassy
yard and began the slow movements to loosen and warm his muscles.

Samara peeked out her bedroom window when she heard him walk
onto the porch. He stood in the yard stretching and bending with the loose
grace of a hunting
packit
. After a few minutes, he began the ritual
movements of the dance, movements she’d seen hundreds of times while watching
the classes on the practice field. In some indefinable way, Ban made the
graceful exercises his own.

With a deep sigh, she gathered her clean
meerlim
and
went to take her morning shower under the waterfall. By the time she finished
Ban would no doubt be ready for breakfast. In the bathing room, she unraveled
the braid that fell well below her butt and shook her head until a wavy curtain
of golden brown covered her back like a soft cape. After spending the day
before at the gathering her hair had a dusty film that could only be removed
with a vigorous brushing. She seized her brush and ran it through the long
strands until they were shining threads of gold. Then she twisted the mass up
in a knot on top of her head.

It was the work of just minutes to turn on the water and
step under the warm shower. She smiled at the sheer luxury of cleaning her body
under the waterfall. Too soon, she had to turn off the water and leave the
pleasure of the shower to dry and dress. There were chores to finish before she
could leave for the gathering. She slipped her
meerlim
on and brushed
her hair one more time before braiding it so she could wind it into the topknot
she normally wore.

When she opened the bathing room door, she could see Ban
sitting in the kitchen, drinking a mug of tea. Clearly, it was time to prepare
breakfast. “I hoped to be cooking before you finished your exercises,” she
exclaimed as she went into the kitchen. “Good morning! Did you sleep well?”

“I did. And I’m in no hurry for breakfast. Sit and have a
mug of tea.”

“I made an egg and
hopper
pie last night while you
were showering. Let me fetch it from the spring house and start it baking. Then
I’ll have plenty of time to visit.”

He stood up at once. “Egg and
hopper
pie? I’ll go get
it. I haven’t had egg and
hopper
pie in a very long time!” He whisked
out the back door and down the stairs before she could blink.

Well
, she thought.
Obviously he was happy with her
breakfast choice.
While he was gone, she lit the hot rocks in the oven so
it would begin to heat and then set about peeling and slicing ripe
quoltanias
for a fruit salad.

Chapter Thirteen

Bishop Returns to Lost Market

 

Two eight-days later Bishop wearily approached Lost Market
in the silent company of Hawke, Mali and Jonas. He was footsore and discouraged
but thoroughly convinced that the valley inhabitants knew what they were
talking about when they said there was no exit. Obviously, the only way out was
the same as the way in. And that appeared to be closed off too.

He hated to admit it but he was looking forward to the
privacy of his bedroom and his bathroom. Too much togetherness made him edgy. A
half-moon spent in the company of his casually efficient young companions was
an eye-opening experience. They were comfortable with living on the land but
extremely cautious. At no point did they forget that there were dangers
everywhere. In spite of himself, Bishop found that he was impressed.

As they moved around the far perimeter of the valley, the
young men took turns pointing out things he would have otherwise missed. It was
ruthlessly impressed upon him that he was ill-prepared to wander off on his own
and by the end of their time-out away from the village he realized that even
the safety of the village was merely an illusion. No wonder even the youngest
warrior trainee was always armed with a knife. Children here were taught
caution from the time they were walking.

Outside the Llewellyn domes the men separated. Mali and
Jonas walked away with softly spoken farewells. Hawke led the way into the
kitchen where Arturo was preparing dinner.

“Ah, you’ve returned! How did it go?”

Bishop yawned mightily. “How did it go? I suppose I learned
what I was supposed to learn.”

“You look tired and no doubt you will want to clean up
before you rest. Shall I make you a sandwich before you bathe?” Arturo asked
with absent concern as he pummeled and folded dough in a huge bowl.

“No. You have enough to do.” Bishop’s eyes watered as he
yawned again. “I tell you what. I’m going to go take a shower and a nap. Please
send someone to wake me when it’s time to eat.”

Nodding briskly, Arturo agreed, “I can do that. Now take
your things please and get out of my kitchen.” He turned the dough out on the
floured table and kneaded it a couple more times before placing it in another
oiled wooden bowl.

Hawke leaned against the wooden cabinet with his arms folded
across his chest and watched Arturo with bright-eyed interest. “Pizza?”

“Pizza. Since Dancer showed me how to make it, it’s become a
favorite of the family.” Arturo fetched a cutting board, two lengths of
sausage, peppers, some of the dark
fanilver
mushrooms and two tiny
drackas
.
With swift strokes, he sliced the meat and dumped it into a wide cast-iron pot.
The sausage sizzled in the pan, filling the kitchen with a tantalizing aroma.

Hawke inhaled blissfully. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to
help you. I need a quick shower first.”

His brother just shook his head as he grabbed a clean
cutting board and began to slice up the vegetables. “No need. If you want to
keep me company that will be fine but I expect that you’ve done more than your
share in the past half-moon. Come back when you’re ready and tell me all about
it.”

Unexpectedly, a yawn caught Hawke by surprise. “All right.
We’ll have tea and I’ll tell you about our two eight-days in the wilderness.”
He gathered his belongings and headed down the cool dim hall to the bedroom he
shared with Wolfe. The idea of a shower suddenly sounded very, very inviting.

 

News traveled swiftly in the village. By dinnertime, four
people had made it their business to casually find their way to Samara’s dome
deep in the woods so that they could accidentally mention that Bishop was back
in Lost Market.

She was harvesting some mint in her garden when the fifth
visitor showed up. Exasperated, she didn’t even bother to raise her head to see
who it was. “Yes, I know that Bishop is back. No, I don’t really know why he’s
back and no, I don’t really care.”

“That’s too bad,” Bishop replied. “I passed up my share of
Arturo’s valley pizza to come out here and apologize for being an ass.”

“An ass?”

“The backside of a stupid
rowan
,” he translated
automatically.

She looked up at him, wondering why he had really come to
see her. “I have some
bohras
and bean soup if you’re hungry.”

“I’ll take it.” He would have been willing to eat anything
she offered if it meant he could sit at her kitchen table. As long as she was
talking, there was still a chance. He didn’t know what he was going to say but
just from his walk through the village, Bishop knew he was going to have to
make amends big-time if he was going to be comfortable living here until he
could find a way to go home.

He followed her into the dome and gratefully sat at the
table while she served up a generous helping of the tasty soup. The tantalizing
scent of roasted
bohras
filled the kitchen. He wondered why
bohras
bacon was not a part of the array of meats they served in the valley. Pig was
pig, whether wild or tame. With a mental shrug, he focused his attention on his
reluctant hostess.

After placing the bowl of steaming soup, utensils and
several slices of sunflower bread in front of him, she puttered around,
cleaning up and putting things away. Finally he asked, “Samara, do you think
you could sit down and talk to me while I eat?”

Silently, she sat down and waited for him to speak. At last,
he shot her a frustrated glance and said, “The silent treatment must be a
universal female tactic. What do you want me to say?”

“This is my kitchen in my dome. I did not approach you,” she
pointed out. “It is up to you to say what you feel you must say.”

“Just like a woman. They get pissed off and expect you to
know what they’re pissed about. Okay, let’s start there. Why were you angry at
the gathering?”

Samara pressed her lips together in annoyance so that they
flattened. After a moment, she explained patiently, “When you only came to my
dome to see me, then whatever we did was private. But
you
chose to
accompany me to the gathering.
You
publicly declared that you had found
your
woman! And yet, you publicly balked at going to our
hurka
. There was
accusation and denial in your voice, Bishop. Accusation that I would force you
to swear the covenant bond with me. Therefore, I released you—publicly. No one
in the valley expects us to bond.”

“So what’s the problem, then? You wanted it hard, deep and
never-ending, as I recall. I believe I provided that as much as any man can.”

She bit her lip and looked away. “You are not a never-ending
kind of man, I think. It is probably fear that prevents you from accepting
love. Until you have the courage to take everything that I offer, we must
part.”

He chewed and swallowed while he thought that over. Then he
asked, “Does that mean we’re not going to fuck anymore?”

Immediately Samara stood up and walked to the back door.
“Please leave now.”

He sat back and crossed his arms. “Was it something I said?”

She stood at the door with her back to him. “If I am your
lover now without a public bonding, then I will be considered
garbonhzan
—a
free woman who is paid for
garzhinka
. You are no longer important enough
to me for me to consider that. Get out of my dome.”

“I thought you had no reputation to ruin?”

“I didn’t until you publicly declared that I was
your
woman. Now I have nothing left. Please go.”

Bishop stood up and shoved the chair out of his way.
“Out-valley women complain about a double standard but you women here in the
valley have them beat. I’ll go. And I won’t be back. I hope you’re real good
with your hands or have a dildo, Samara, because I won’t be around for a
convenient fuck!”

With her back turned to him, she waited until she heard him
leave by the front door. Slowly, she closed and barred the back door, then went
to the front door and did the same before going into her room and sprawling
across the soft bed. Her chest ached as his final words pounded at her heart.
I
won’t be around for a convenient fuck!
Tears trickled onto her pillow. And
then she cried until she could cry no more.

* * * * *

Jiph made a cold camp in the woods near bonding circle three
while he considered what his next steps should be. According to the comments
he’d overheard since Bishop came back to Lost Market, the outlander was not
popular at all. The villagers in general seemed to think that Samara had cast
him out of her dome. If that was true, then he must find a new target. The more
he thought about it, though, the more he was sure that Samara would take Bishop
back in the end. There was something…something about the way they were
together. They were aware of each other in the way of not just lovers but
mates.

He pulled up the mental map he had of the valley and planned
his next move. His camp was too exposed for him to linger longer than
overnight. There was a place on the backside of Long Mountain that he hadn’t
visited in quite a while. He could hunt for an eight-day, renewing his
supplies. Then when he returned, he would see what he needed to do.

* * * * *

While Dai supervised lunch at the Llewellyn dome, he
pondered what to do about Bishop. Clearly, Bish was not ready to settle in the
valley. And Dai was not prepared to let him continue to wreak havoc with the
valley women. Dai was already planning to take Arturo and Tyger down to his
retreat so they could work through some emotional issues. He mulled over the
idea of taking Bishop also. At least that way he would have more control over
what Bishop did.

After lunch, Bishop went to visit Traveller. In the last few
days, Trav had shown a marked improvement physically. When Bishop had queried
him about the reason, Trav just muttered something about physical therapy with
Wrenna. Bishop had an idea there was more to it than that but he didn’t push for
the details. Bishop told him all about his exploratory trip on the edge of the
valley as Trav listened intently.

Just as Bishop was prepared to leave Trav so he could take
his afternoon nap, Dai came into Trav’s room and shut the door. “I must talk to
you, Trav.” Bishop stood up at once so they would have privacy. “There is a
thing I must explain to both of you.”

“What’s wrong?” Trav asked, frowning at Dai’s serious
expression.

“Yesterday, I saw Wrenna with you,” Dai replied baldly. “There
are things you must know before you do something irrevocable. In the valley,
men and women must have the proper rites and ceremonies before consummation. If
you are not serious, you must not do this!”

Bish had a bad feeling about where Dai was going with this.
“What was he doing?” he asked in growing concern.

“It is not for you to interfere, Bishop. Listen and learn
that you may not make the same mistakes!” Dai said sternly. Glancing at Trav,
he asked, “Has Wrenna talked to you any more about the pledging and
bonding-rite?”

“No.” Traveller was most definite. “As a matter of fact,
conversation hasn’t been a strong point in our encounters. So what do we need
to know?”

Dai carefully explained about pledges, bonding and
schalzah
.
He explained the purpose of the
shardas
and described
schalzina
and the
schela
.

Traveller looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. “Let
me get this right. You’re telling us that once a woman begins
schalzina
,
there’s no cure for it except sex.”

“With her bond mate. Yes.” Dai nodded his head.

“And this includes this locking where her
schela
grips his cock behind the head and he can’t withdraw until her
schalzina
episode is over—which might be anywhere from a short time to half a day?”

“Yes.”

“And
schalzina
episodes continue through most of the
year after the oath-binding.” Trav shook his head. “That’s some honeymoon.”

“Merlyn has explained this ‘honeymoon’ to me. It is not the
same, I think.”

Then Dai carefully explained all the many puzzling terms the
men had heard, finally concluding, “It is why I have explained it all to you
plainly. Children and women are very precious here in this valley. Until Dancer
came and bonded with Eppie, the last pregnancy was over seven years ago. It is
a very great responsibility to care for a bond mate. It is certain death if the
man is not available in the last stages of
schalzina
or during
burda
.
My cousin’s wife died and the child was lost also. This was a very great grief
to him and his entire clan.”

“Why didn’t Wrenna say anything?” Trav asked in bafflement.
“She’s never mentioned a word to me.”

“Perhaps she thought her brothers might have explained this
to you, or even that I had talked to you. Or since she mentioned it to you
before you came to the valley, maybe she’s waiting for you to ask her for more
details,” Dai observed thoughtfully, explaining a few of the more detailed
rules that dealt with bonding.

Bish nodded. “Right before Merlyn and Jade went to Elyria,
he told me to stay away from the women. This must be why he was so anxious for
me to not go near a woman.”

Dai nodded. “You! Until your hair grows out, a woman will
not offer to pledge or bond with you. Did he not tell you that?”

“He wasn’t exactly forthcoming. I think he was focused on
Jade right then. You might as well lay it on me…”

Dai willingly explained the importance of long hair in the
valley.

Privately Bishop had hoped Dai would explain about
garbonhzans
and exactly what that term meant, but Dai didn’t mention them.

His brow wrinkling in a frown, Bishop hesitantly inquired
about something that puzzled him from the first day in the valley. “Dai, you
said a covenant bond is for anyone not involved in the bond that leads to
childbearing. I take it that would mean two men or two women or something like
that?”

BOOK: Love Never-Ending
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