Authors: Anny Cook
As dawn was breaking she wearily woke to the sounds of the
village beginning a new day. There was the low mutter of the baker and his wife
on their way to the bakery. She heard the stuttering baa of the
woolies
as the shepherd drove them from the village green to the field outside the
village. Then a soft knock heralded the arrival of one of the villagers and she
reluctantly crawled from the warm bed and went to answer the door.
To her surprise it was Wolfe with a tray of hot tea and fresh
rolls and honey. When she let him in, she noted that he also had a basket of
fruit and soft orange
rowan
cheese. She pulled on a heavy
meerlim
she used as a robe and joined him at the table where he had everything set for
breakfast.
Stifling a yawn, she demanded, “What are you doing up so
early? Surely we don’t have to leave at the crack of dawn?”
“Actually,” he informed her, not bothering to cover his own
yawn, “I haven’t been to bed yet. Alcy and I were up all night with a sick
child.”
“What? You must be ready to collapse!”
“Exactly. Which is why I was wondering if you would mind if
we stay here today and continue on to Rebaccah’s Promise tomorrow.”
“Of course not!” Samara tore open a steaming roll and
slapped a slice of cheese between the halves, making an impromptu sandwich. She
took a hearty bite while she watched Wolfe mow his way through rolls, cheese
and fruit as though he was starved. “I can certainly find something to do
today. I brought my beading and I would be happy to have time to work on it.”
He nodded and chewed. “Then after breakfast, I’m going to
sleep for a while. I’ll come back when I wake up and we’ll decide what time to
leave tomorrow.”
“What was wrong with the child?” she asked curiously.
“We think he found a patch of Red Dragon.”
“Oh, no! That’s usually fatal!” Samara stared at him in
appalled horror.
“Well, it was a very near thing. The villagers are
organizing a search party now to find it before any other children stumble
across it. It can’t be far as the youngling only has eight years. He wouldn’t
go past the edge of the village.” Wolfe yawned again and slowly got to his
feet. “I’ll be back later on.”
“Go, go! You’re staggering with fatigue. Sleep as long as
you need.” Samara hopped up and nudged him out the door before returning to
finish her tea and contemplate the terrors of Red Dragon. The seeds were so
tiny they could be inhaled or ingested accidentally. It was not a plant to
leave growing unchecked.
She yawned again and decided to go back to bed. It wasn’t
often that she had the opportunity to loll around in bed. After covering the
food, she detoured long enough in the bathroom for a quick wash and then
tumbled back into bed. Sleep ambushed her almost before her head hit the
pillow.
* * * * *
Bishop woke up with the hard-on from hell after dreaming of
Samara. For the first time, he wondered if it would have been so terrible to be
bonded to Samara. She couldn’t have children so he wouldn’t have to worry about
the rugrats. He would have sex on a regular basis and she had a really nice
dome to live in. Why had he been so resistant?
Absently, he rolled on his side, resting his head on his arm
while he stroked his aching cock with the other hand. Memories of Samara bent
over her kitchen table while he fucked her had his cock pulsing and leaking. He
closed his eyes and recalled the feel of her soft ass rubbing against his
belly.
When he went back to Lost Market, he was going to fuck her
ass, he decided abruptly. If that decision was at odds with his determination
to leave the valley, he ignored the inconsistencies. Samara was
his
woman. And her ass was
his
ass. He wanted to fuck her like he did in the
dream. If that meant going through the bonding shit, then that’s what he would
do. As long as he was in this frigging valley, he might as well have his own
woman. She would no doubt find some other sucker when he finally figured out
how to get home.
In the meantime, he squeezed and stroked his cock while he
remembered just how tight her ass clung to his fingers as he reamed her and how
slick and hot her pussy was around his cock. He craved the taste of her hard
nipples in his mouth as he sucked and nibbled on them. She tasted like no other
woman.
She bathed with
quoltania
-scented soap. Just the bare
hint of
quoltania
made him hard.
Quoltania
jam, fruit, even
passing the damn trees…the whiff of
quoltania
had his cock saluting and
there was nothing he could do about it. It pissed him off to be walking around
with a hard cock.
He clenched and stroked harder as he envisioned her sucking
his cock. For some reason it thrilled her to suck him until he came. Her mouth
was hot and enthusiastic. He was willing to bet she could suck the chrome off a
bumper. Sometimes she sucked him with her eyes wide open, staring at him like
she was daring him to come. Other times she closed her eyes and sucked like she
was starved and he was an eight-course meal.
Abruptly, his cock pulsed and jerked, hot cum boiling over
his fingers. He had such a need for her to be there with his cock in her mouth
he nearly sobbed in frustration. He
needed
her. When did that happen? He
rolled on his back and squeezed his eyes shut. What the hell was he going to
do? After shedding the last two women who had their claws in him, he swore that
he would never let another woman get that close. How had Samara done this to
him?
He cursed under his breath. Fuck her. He was going to get
her out of his head if it was the last thing he did. No woman was going to lead
him around by his cock. Rolling out of bed, he went into the bathroom and stood
under the primitive cold shower. Whatever it took, he would be his own man.
Jiph attacks
In the predawn darkness, Jiph drifted through the trees down
the narrow canyon that led to Dai’s Retreat. After spending several eight-days
following Bishop around the valley, he had only contempt for Bish’s survival
skills. In his estimation, Bishop’s death would be almost too easy. He had
hoped for more of a challenge.
When he reached the edge where the woods met the small
garden, he paused, then crept silently around the perimeter of the garden,
until he reached the back door of the sprawling stone house. For the life of
him, he couldn’t understand why there were so many wings jutting out at random
spots from the main section. What kind of house was built like this?
He slipped through the garden, randomly peeking through
windows he passed, though there was little to see in the darkness. On the far
side of the house, he tripped over a pail of water, setting off a loud clatter.
Everything went silent. Jiph held his breath, waiting for someone to come
investigate what was in the yard. After a few minutes when no one showed up, he
moved on. Sleepy birds muttered in the trees and the hum of small insects
gathered volume.
Around the corner, he found a small patio enclosed on three
sides with access doors on all three walls. Bedrooms? Perhaps his quest would
be even easier than he anticipated? In the gray light of dawn, he studied the
layout, peering in the deep shadows in the corners. After brief thought, he chose
the center door and eased it open. With a deep breath, he moved through the
opening, listening intently for movement.
He stood in a small hallway. Loud snores came from the room
on the left. The sound of running water came from the right. Someone was awake.
He moved to the left, feeling that it was safer to invade a sleeping man’s room
than one who was alert. Scornfully, he assumed that the snorer was Bishop. Jiph
believed the outlander was lazy.
As Jiph slipped through the bedroom door the small hairs on
his neck stood stiffly in alarm and he knew he’d made a mistake. He whirled
around and fled back the way he’d come. But he wasn’t to get away free. Arturo,
standing just inside Tyger’s bedroom, had managed to grasp a handful of fabric.
With an ominous
rip-p-p
signaling the loss of his
sharda
and
shera
,
Jiph pounded back into the woods stark naked except for his sandals.
He hid in the tree line, watching the house while he
struggled to get his breath. His heart thundered so loudly in his ears, he
couldn’t be sure that he would hear anything over the noise. He saw the shadow
of movement but not clearly enough to identify any one. When no one followed
him, he threaded his way back to the place he’d left his pack and supplies, all
the while, castigating himself for his carelessness. Now they were warned. Now
they would be watching. After dressing in fresh clothing, he revised his plans.
The canyon was too dangerous now. There would be other opportunities for
revenge. Time to move on to a safer place before full daylight revealed his
presence. Snatching up his belongings, he left the hidden trap of Dai’s
Retreat.
Thoroughly pissed off and frightened at Tyger’s close call,
Arturo seized a handful of his brother’s bright hair and yanked. Tyger came up
off the bed with a roar but Arturo had already jumped back out of range.
“Why did you do that?” Tyger yelled.
“Someone nearly killed you, you fool, and you would have
slept right through it!” Arturo bellowed back. “Have you no sense of
preservation at all?”
Dai came into the room and turned the light stone. Bright
light revealed Arturo standing near the door with shredded clothing still
clutched in his fist. “’Turo, what have you there?”
“Someone was creeping around outside. They came in through
the patio door into Tyger’s room. I don’t know what happened but he turned and
ran.” Arturo snorted. “Although, I will say that he’s naked for the moment…”
“You grabbed his clothes? That’s pretty good.” Tyger
laughed. “Give them here and we’ll see what we can tell from the fabric.”
Bishop appeared, with a bathing sheet wrapped around his
hips and another small one around his neck. His tousled hair was still wet.
“What the hell is going on? Why is everyone awake?”
Arturo tilted his chin at Tyger. “Someone was in his room a
few minutes ago. He had a knife. I caught a bit of reflection when he ran from
the room.”
“Why would anyone want to hurt Tyger?”
Tyger looked up from the material he was examining. “That’s
a good question. This was woven down at Bell’s Corner. I don’t know anyone from
there with a grudge against me.”
“How do you know it’s from Bell’s Corner?” Bishop asked
curiously.
“To a weaver, the work of other weavers is like reading
their fingerprints. I could look at a piece of cloth woven anywhere in the
valley and tell you who did the weaving. This is woven by Freydyn Yasher. Since
he died eight years ago, that tells us that the owner is poor enough that he
can’t afford a newer
sharda
or that this
sharda
was passed down
to a younger son. The fabric is in reasonable condition so I suspect that it’s
been stored in a chest waiting for someone to grow enough to wear it.”
“And the
shera
?”
Tyger examined it carefully. “The
shera
is
embroidered. That’s Shura Vitek’s work. She charges a lot of credits for her
work so again, that argues for a
shera
passed down to a younger son.”
Tyger shook his head in puzzlement. “I can’t think of anyone there who is upset
with me.”
“I will speak to the healer there. If anyone is missing, he
should know.” Dai yawned. “It’s too late to go back to bed now so I suppose I
should go start breakfast.”
“I won’t have any trouble sleeping,” Tyger objected as he
sprawled across the rumpled covers on his bed.
“If you would rather sleep than eat, of course that is your
choice. But when breakfast is over, you will be out in the garden replacing the
firkas
’ domes and watering the plants.” Dai’s silky gentle voice didn’t
deceive Tyger.
With a deep sigh, Ty crawled back out of bed. Clearly there
would be no more sleep this morning. Dai made a practice of assigning meditation
exercises along with the chores. Maybe a nap later on…
* * * * *
Dai’s retreat was hidden deep in a long narrow canyon. The
bottom of the canyon was thickly forested with bright red pines, which grew so
close together that the sun didn’t reach most of the canyon floor, except along
the creek bed that meandered from side to side. Bish stood knee deep in the creek,
trying to catch a fish. Tyger sat cross-legged on a sunny boulder on the shore
in the fourth of a series of daily trances Dai had assigned him. Bish found the
silence a little unnerving but not nearly as unnerving as being in close
proximity with his nephew.
Just as he caught his fish and tossed it on the bank, Tyger
shook like a shaggy dog and ended his trance.
“You got one!”
“One. If we’re going to have dinner tonight, I’m going to
have to do better than that. I can’t believe you don’t have fish hooks here!”
Bish grumbled.
Ty tucked his
sharda
up in his waistband, slipped off
his boulder into the water and waded out to Bish. “Where’s your bait?” he
asked.
Bish straightened up and stared at him. “What bait? Dai didn’t
say anything about bait! He just said they were so tame I could come out and
tickle them.”
Tyger found that quite amusing. “So he got you? He tries
that one out on the boys every summer.” Wading over to the bank, he snatched up
a couple of pine branches and waded back. “These are
gilly
fish and they
love the smell of these needles. Here take this one. Just let the water cover
the tips and watch.”
Soon several glittery green fish were crowded around the
trailing pine needles.
While Tyger showed him how to catch the
gilly
fish,
they discussed Bish’s frustration with Dai and his inability to escape the
valley. Bish even dared to ask him about his bond with his twin, Llyon.
“It seems very strange to me that you are bonded to your
brother. Where I came from, there are same sex pairings but not siblings. That
would be very taboo.”
Tyger nodded. “Here also usually. Llyon and I are the only
such ones. About every two or three hundred years there is such a pairing. In
the old language we are
two-as-one
. It is almostas though we
were one soul split in two pieces. Llyon is necessary to make me complete. And
I am necessary to make him complete.”
They talked a while longer until Bish nodded his head
finally understanding. “So if that is what he wants, you will be celibate the
rest of your life while still attached to him? That will be a long lonely road
to travel, Tyger. I hope now for both of your sakes that it isn’t so.”
As they walked up the path toward the dome, Dai recognized
the change in body language between them. He breathed a deep sigh of relief
when it was clear that Bish was no longer so skittish around Tyger. The tension
had been most uncomfortable for everyone. Whatever they had discussed had changed
the feelings between them. He found dealing with new outsiders and their
prejudices was so wearing.
They argued amicably over who would clean the fish as they
made their way down the path to Dai’s sprawling retreat. When they reached the kitchen,
Dai settled the matter by assigning Arturo to clean the fish while Bishop
cleaned up and dressed in dry clothing.
The sun had warmed the water in the water tank on the roof
so he gratefully took a quick warm shower before padding into his bedroom with
a bathing sheet anchored around his hips. He pawed through the stack of clean
shardas
and
sheras
piled on the chest in the corner.
Lo, how the mighty are
fallen
, he jeered absently. It had taken very little time for him to adjust
to the sissy skirts, after all. Tossing the bathing sheet on the bed, he
swiftly dressed in a dark green
sharda
paired with a pale gold
shera
.
His damp hair, always worn in a clean-cut, very short style before he came to
the valley, curled around his face in a riot of black and silver curls.
Ruthlessly, he brushed it back from his face but it sprang back in loose curls
before he even left his room to join the others in the kitchen.
Dai led him out to the garden where they sat on a rough
stone bench and talked. The plants were past their first bloom, well into the
fruiting stage, but it was a sunny spot, so the cool air wasn’t too
uncomfortable. “You are still pining to return home,” Dai observed.
“Yes.” Bish stared out at the dark woods. “This is not my home.
It is your home. I can even understand why Dancer and Traveller wish to remain.
And of course, after being here so long, Merlyn and Jade would find it
impossible to return. But I have nothing holding me here,” he said firmly.
“No?”
“No.” Bish reiterated with finality.
“You are used to female companionship,” Dai observed. “This
restraint angers you.”
“Yes! Hell yes!” Bish exploded, “Don’t do this. Don’t touch
a woman. No woman will want you because your hair is too short! It’s barbaric
and stupid!”
“And what of Samara?”
“What about her? She’s a lovely girl but she’s damaged. I
feel bad for her but rape never goes away and frankly, I’m not up to dealing
with that whole thing.” He shrugged. “I just want a good time and no strings
attached. She’s looking for a covenant bond. You guys are much too serious
about the whole thing here in this valley.”
“It is true that there are serious consequences here,” Dai
agreed. “Surely, you do not believe the death of a woman or child is a thing of
small importance?”
“Of course not!” Bish replied angrily. “See, that’s just the
thing right there. I don’t want to be responsible for a woman or child!” He stood
and paced back and forth. “I was married twice! I don’t want a woman hanging on
me. I’m not my brother! I don’t want a never-ending string of little kids and
grandkids and a constantly pregnant wife!”
“I see,” Dai acknowledged wisely. “You want to stick it in,
take it out and say goodbye.”
In spite of his anger, Bish laughed. “Yes. We call it wham,
bam, thank you, ma’am.”
A strange little smile played across Dai’s face. “Yes, even
here, we have them. They are only permitted to be with women past a certain age
where there is no danger of
schalzina
. Such a woman will register with
the village barter keeper as a
garbonhzan
—a free woman. If you wish, I
can introduce you to such a woman…”
“No, I don’t wish! I want to go home!” Suddenly Bish was
shouting and couldn’t seem to stop himself. “I don’t want to stay here, old
man! I think you know how to open that cavern and I want you to do it!”
Shaking his head slowly, Dai denied it, “I assure you I do
not know how to open the cavern. Hamilton and Nathan and Jade have worked on
various ideas about that for many years. In all the tales from the valley no
one has ever left voluntarily.”
“I’ll go crazy if I have to stay here,” Bish declared. “Stark
raving crazy!”
“That would not be good,” Dai admitted with a smile. “You
don’t want me to introduce you to a woman. I don’t think you are interested in
a man. Perhaps we need to find you a job? What kind of work did you do before
you came here?”
“I didn’t have to work. I had a trust fund!” Bish realized that
Dai might not understand the phrase. “I had enough money so why take another
man’s job?” he explained defensively.
Nodding in agreement, Dai said, “Of course. Well, we have no
money here. If you wish to eat, you must work. What skill do you have?” he
inquired with a kindly tone but Bish had a nasty notion that Dai was laughing
at him.