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Authors: Kate Hill

Tags: #Romance

Mica (9 page)

BOOK: Mica
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“Mica,” called a cheerful voice. A robust woman flounced down the steps, a
wooden tray dangling from her hand. Her thick black and gray hair hung in a braid over one shoulder. A flowing dress of red silk covered her voluptuous curves. Fine lines around her eyes and mouth were the only sign of aging in her otherwise youthful face.

She smiled, glancing from Mica to Sun. “This must be the Dame from across the sea. A pleasure.” She reached for Sun’s hand and pumped it with enthusiasm. “How do you like our city?”

“It’s beautiful,” Sun admitted.

“For a pigpen.” Mica’s blue eyes glistened.

The woman cocked an eyebrow in his direction before grasping his shoulders and dragging him toward the steps where she could better reach his face. She patted his cheek with her palm and planted a smacking kiss on his mouth. “Don’t be such a tease, Mica. After all, this young woman hardly knows you.”

Sun folded her arms across her chest. “Oh, I think I know him well enough.”

“Sun is not easily shocked or offended, Marta.” He winked at Sun who ignored him.

She said to her hostess, “I should thank you for arranging dinner for us.”

“It was my pleasure. Besides, it has been a long time since Mica has eaten here. Off in the desert again, were you?”

“Where else?”

“Not working too hard I hope. You look well enough I suppose. A little skinny though.”

Mica turned to Sun. “And did I tell you I had no mother? Marta took over where mine left off. As if I need mothering at my age.”

“Everyone needs mothering once in a while, isn’t that right, Sun?”

“Yes. I’ve missed my own greatly.”

Marta took her hand and guided her up the stairs. “Now you can say you have one in Ademene. Come. We’ll get you seated and bring the food my cook has been preparing. You like desert fruit?”

“I’ve never eaten it.”

“You’ll enjoy it,” Marta said. “Tell me about your Order. I know little about the Dames but your life interests me.”

“It’s exciting, that’s for sure.” Sun smiled, taking an instant liking to Marta.

“Have you really fought off men in battle?”

“Often.”

Marta slapped a hand to her thigh. “I love hearing of such things. You’re the first warrior woman I’ve ever known.”

“Dames are healers too,” Mica called from behind.

“Yes I know but I want to hear about the weapons and pummeling men senseless.”

A wild expression lit Marta’s eyes. “Later she can talk about all the lives she’s saved.”
Sun actually blushed at the attention.

“Mica has a great interest in healing,” Marta explained. “Fighting is nothing to him.

He was a combat general. Seen and done it all so he can’t understand my fascination with fighting.”

“Fighting brings nothing but pain as I’ve told you,” Mica said.

Marta glanced over her shoulder at him. “I understand your abhorrence of it and I know you don’t like speaking about your past, which is why I don’t bring it up.”

“Was he that bad?” Sun asked.

Marta’s smile faded. “I’ll leave Mica’s past for him to discuss but anything you’d like to know about the local cuisine, I’ll provide all the details.”

“It’s a deal.” Sun tried to sound cheerful in spite of her curiosity. She knew Mica had a dark side. According to Marta it was so bad he didn’t even want to speak of it.

Marta opened a wooden door at the top of the stairs and they stepped onto the roof.

Stars glistened in the dark sky. From where Sun stood, she saw the rooftops all over Ademene. In the distance the palace rose like a gleaming white mountain in the moonlight. Until she’d arrived in the Kennas, Sun had never seen so many white buildings before. She was accustomed to the brown and gray structures of her homeland.

“A beautiful view, isn’t it?” Marta glanced around in wonder though Sun knew she must have stood on the rooftop thousands of times.

“It is.”

Only two of the seven tables were occupied. Marta brought them to the most secluded one behind a tall potted tree on a corner of the roof. She lit the lantern in the center of the table while Mica and Sun sat on pillows opposite each other.

“Someone will bring you wine and bread. Enjoy yourselves.”

“I’ll pay you now.” Mica reached for his coin pouch.

“No. Consider this dinner a welcome to Ademene for Dame Sun.”

“Thank you very much.”

“It is my pleasure.”

Marta disappeared down the steps.

Sun continued gazing at the view. After a moment she said, “How bad were you, combat general?”

“Not quite as bad as my father.”

Sun turned to him. “Not a wonderful argument for your case.”

“I didn’t know I was on trial.”

“You must think you are or else you wouldn’t have selected such a punishment for yourself.”

Furrowing his brow, he asked, “Punishment?”
Sun made a chopping motion with her hand. “Goodbye forever, balls.”

Mica looked amused. “Our custom bothers you greatly. I thought Dames took many vows to uphold their belief in your…what do you call your deity again?”

“Spirit. Like the Knights most of us believe in the Spirit and yes we take vows. We even take a vow of celibacy until after marriage.”

“And you claim to be offended by our ways?”

“But we don’t mutilate ourselves. We abstain by will not by force.”

“It has little to do with abstinence. Priests are castrated to take on the image of the Goddess, meaning they give up their ability to father children but also something deeper. In ancient times, when the very young were castrated, it was an attempt to make them more effeminate, supposedly allowing them to more closely resemble the Goddess. The ritual is and has always been a symbol of devotion and affection.”

“Affection? It’s terrible. How can you think of doing it to yourself?” Beneath the table her hands tightened into fists. She didn’t understand her anger. It was his custom and
his
body. Why should she care? Besides, if he was gelded at least his bloodline would end. According to what Marta said about his past he was his father’s son after all. Still the idea of ruining such a beautiful body bothered her. She remembered seeing him in the loincloth. How could a man with such obvious attributes wish to—

Her thoughts were interrupted by a young girl who brought wine and a basket of warm bread to the table. She hurried away, leaving Mica and Sun to eat. They reached for the bread at the same time, their fingers brushing. His warm touch made her body tingle. Mica drew back for Sun to take her bread while he poured the wine.

“I don’t usually drink much,” she said.

“It’s a very mild wine. Sweet.”

Sun took a sip, pleased with the fruity taste. When she drank, Mica focused on her lips. She found herself doing the same to him. The tip of his tongue circled his mouth, tasting the excess wine gleaming on his lips. She stared, wondering if his mouth was as soft as it looked.

“What’s Travelle like?” he asked.

“Much colder than here. We have short summers and long winters. The eastern coast is lovely though. The cliffs are hundreds of feet tall and the sea below froths and crashes. It sounds like a dragon roaring—if such creatures were real.”

“I’d like to see it.”

“Why don’t you visit?”

He shook his head. “My work is here.”

“The Bedouins?”

Lowering his gaze to his hands, he said, “Yes. I must return to them soon.”

“Someday you might travel to Travelle—”

“I don’t think so,” he interrupted almost sharply then his voice softened. “I’ll spend
the rest of my life here, Dame Sun. It’s fated.”

“A little dramatic, don’t you think? You probably have a long life still ahead of you.”

Mica’s brow furrowed and he glanced at the bread turning between his long fingers. He took a bite. “The bread is good. Even better than I remember.”

Sun chewed a mouthful of the warm bread. The center was soft, the crust golden brown and crunchy just as she liked it.

Moments later the serving girl returned with a tray of stew, flat cracker-like bread, a plate of brownish paste and a bowl of pink and green fruit.

“What’s that?” Sun glanced at the paste.

“It’s good.” Mica broke one of the hard flatbreads in half and dipped it into the paste before handing it to her. Sun took it, her fingers once again brushing his. Their gazes met and Sun noted with satisfaction the desire burning deep in his eyes. It seemed seducing him would be even easier than she’d first imagined.

She took the flatbread and bit into it. The taste was absolutely delicious.

“Nuts?”

Mica nodded, since his mouth was full. He took a swallow of wine and said,

“People come from all over Ademene to eat this paste. It’s Marta’s secret recipe.”

“What’s the secret?”

He grinned. “As if she’d tell me.”

For the next few moments they ate in silence. Once all the stew, bread and paste were gone, Mica took the bowl of fruit. Dozens of tiny needles covered the pink and green skin so he held the fruit steady with a knife while using another to cut it open. He cleaned out the pulpy inner flesh and offered it to Sun. “Desert fruit.”

She shoved it into her mouth, juice running between her fingers and down her chin.

It tasted even sweeter than the wine. She dragged her sleeve across her lips, trying to ignore Mica’s look of amusement.

“Well?” he asked.

“Very good.”

He cut up the rest of the fruit and divided the flesh between them. Sun giggled, pointing at Mica’s juice-streaked chin. “You’re making a mess.”

“That’s the only thing I hate about this fruit.” He reached for a piece of cloth on the table but Sun snatched it and wiped his face. Placing aside the cloth, she stroked his smooth jaw. She told herself she was still trying to lure him but to her dismay she thoroughly enjoyed touching him.

“Dame Sun,” he said, taking her hand, his thumb massaging her palm in a manner that sent a rush of desire through her entire body. Damn. If she was aroused by his hand touching hers, how would she react when they were entwined naked with his cock buried deep inside her? His warm, dry palm was callused in places. A gentle yet
masculine hand. Gentle? There was nothing gentle about a man like him. To forget that would be suicide.

Mica stood, tugging Sun to her feet.

“Now what?” she asked.

He guided her to the edge of the building. The streets below wound like veins among the pale buildings. Darkness had enveloped the city. Other than the sound of talking, singing and laughing from behind some of the walls, all was quiet. Mica held her hand in both of his, stroking with such warmth and tenderness that Sun once again needed to remind herself of exactly who he was.

“Did you brutalize women and children like your father did?” Again she couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice.

“I don’t doubt many suffered because of me.”

“What made you change?”

“I don’t know,” he said softly.

“That’s not an answer.”

He sighed, his thumb stroking the back of her hand in an almost nervous gesture.

“My father’s ways made no sense to me. When I was younger I just followed blindly. It was what I was raised to do. Then I couldn’t see the reason for killing once we’d conquered. I hated him, Dame Sun. I hated what he did to me and my mother. I hated seeing people suffer because of his will and that of the false emperor he served.”

“You went from a warrior to a Priest.”

“Priest in Waiting.”

“That’s right.” She glanced at their entwined fingers. “After you’re gelded then you’ll be a Priest.”

“You make it sound filthy.”

“It’s tragic.”

A smile played around his lips. “Funny but when we first met I thought you’d have gelded me in a heartbeat.”

“No I’d have killed you in a heartbeat.”

Glancing at her from the corner of his eyes, he said, “That was a very short time ago. I don’t seem to disgust you as much now.”

“If not for your father I might even like you.”

They stood so close that his breath fanned her face. If she leaned just a bit nearer their lips would touch. Her pulse raced out of control but she told herself whatever she did with Mica would be an act of revenge. Whether or not she enjoyed it was beside the point. “Is there someplace we can be alone for a while?”

“I’m not sure I understand you, Dame Sun. You speak like a woman who hates me yet your expression and your touch send a different message.”

“This is no easier for me,” she said truthfully then dove into her lie. “Finding myself
attracted to a man I should despise is like punishment from the Spirit.”

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Do you want me?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

“Want you?”

She nodded, staring at him in a manner that had always lured men to her bed.

“You know I cannot admit to such a thing. I’m a Priest in Waiting. You’re a Dame of the Opal Order.”

“I am not afraid to break my vows if what I feel for a man is powerful. I can’t explain it, Mica, but you and I—”

“I know. From the moment we met you made me think thoughts and feel emotions I thought were long dead in me.”

Sun drew a deep breath. Obviously his libido cried out for her and he would do anything to make it seem like indulging in her body was beyond his control. Sun wasn’t sure why this upset her. She thought he’d at least put up more of a struggle.

“What is that place over there?” She pointed to a round stone structure across the street.

“The shrine to the first emperor of the city. Few people visit it now. Some of the Messengers see that it’s cared for.”

“May we visit it?”

“Of course.”

She followed him out of the tavern to the building. Inside the room was empty except for a fountain. The impeccably clean walls reflected the pride the people took in the shrine. Glancing up, Sun looked at the moonlight shining through a round hole in the ceiling, bathing the room in light. Turning her attention to the walls, she admired paintings of armor-clad warriors, many on horseback, that covered the walls.

“It’s lovely,” Sun commented, glancing around. She approached the fountain and gazed at the coins glistening at the bottom.

BOOK: Mica
11.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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