An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
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Cherished Destinies ISBN 9781419911880 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Cherished Destinies Copyright © 2007 Anny Cook Edited by Helen Woodall. Photography and cover art by Les Byerley. Electronic book Publication November 2007 This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 443103502. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
MYSTIC VALLEY: CHERISHED DESTINIES Anny Cook
Dedication To Dan—you know why
Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Harry Potter: Time Warner Entertainment Company L.P. Corporation
Cherished Destinies
Mystic Valley Glossary attachment: natural mind bond that does not require pledging rite barbahla: flat bread birth-rite: special rite performed at the oath-binding to facilitate immediate pregnancy bohras: wild pigs, very dangerous to hunt thus requiring a large hunting party bond mate: individuals joined by pledging and oath-binding or covenant bond burda: time during which an embryo develops mental talents. Parents spend this time joined in sexual union chinkas: jeweled clasps awarded to warriors for the required twenty-five braids their hair is confined in. Five colors indicate the warrior’s particular specialties or training covenant bond: bond joining individuals who will not be producing children together, such as garzhan couples or third or fourth partners cucazhas: vegetable similar to a cucumber or zucchini, type of squash dinti: one of the four nonhuman sentient species in the valley—resembles a large dog with extremely long hair. The hair is saved and used for weaving of bonding blankets. Dintis often companion young human females drackas: wild onions—will not grow as a cultivar drang: one of the four nonhuman sentient species in the valley—a small dragon, said to be the forerunner and advisor of the next high clan chief eight-day: one week firka: one of the four non-human sentient species in the valley—a gerbil-hamsterlike creature that mostly lives in and weeds gardens flicknives: long-bladed wavy-edged throwing knives worn in sheathes on the leg. When thrown they spin like a drill foltins: wild potatoes—cannot be cultivated garzhan: non-heterosexual garzhinka: crude expression for sexual activity gilly fish: glittering green fish similar to trout grimahr: very large wild catlike carnivore that has various combinations of bluegreen, blue-purple or green-purple stripes grimahr dance: formalized series of fighting stances that are performed in sequence. Each series can be used both offensively and defensively hopper: small animal similar to a rabbit or guinea pig that is raised for food hot rocks: briquettes similar to charcoal that can be extinguished with water and reused. Mostly used for cooking hurkas: round domed tents fashioned from a variety of materials
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jloni: any adult in a bonded group who is not the biological parent of the children— analogous to a step-parent jlonijai: lineage, family line katuazha: caretaker for a healer, normally a sibling kroniche: leather armor or vest usually armed with tiny throwing knives in sheathes on chest kzusha: penis light stone: naturally occurring stones incorporated into all lamps in valley. They require no external power linual: reed paper malzhal tree: tree with very hard, ironlike black glittering wood used specifically for looms meerlim: female dress—wraparound with two fastenings at waist. May be sleeveless or have sleeves mhital: milking movement at orgasm by cervix—aids fertility chances moorash disease: disease carried by cannibalistic grimahrs—transferred by biting— usually fatal to humans morkert: lawgiver, justice, arbitrator oath-binding: blood rite to bond heterosexual couple after pledging rite packits: one of the four nonhuman sentient species in the valley—small cats in a variety of colors who often companion young human males peekie: blue or green bird similar to a chicken and utilized in much the same manner for meat and eggs pilkie bug: small furry blue bug that curls when frightened, usually found in compost heaps pledging rite: rite to begin mind bond, must be completed prior to oath-binding pocco nuts: coconut, coconut tree punchbow: type of crossbow, armed with as many as five heavy bolts and worn on forearm. In the hands of an experienced warrior can be fired while spinning in a circle quoltania: blue fruit tree used for a variety of things—cooking, tea, scents, flavoring rapport: deep mind bonding, usually reserved for bond mates because of its intimacy, but known also between twins reefah: plant that yields oil used for weapons care rowan: horse-cow type of animal used for meat, milk, dairy. Produces great quantities of manure used by farmers schalzah: a sexual frenzy usually triggered by delayed oath-binding or a twin pregnancy
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schalzina: female biological preparation for oath-binding and pregnancy. If sexual contact with the bond mate is denied either through a delayed oath-binding or loss of mate, schalzina can escalate to life threatening levels with cramping, bleeding, and miscarriage if a pregnancy is involved. Schalzina continues for the duration of the pregnancy. schalzintelo: a very rare form of mind frenzy triggered by a delayed covenant bond between twin-bond twins schela: ring of muscle in vagina that locks around the head of the penis preventing withdrawal semtorn: initial sponsor in the valley, individual who administers enzyme through a bite that is required for long-term survival in the valley. Enzyme transfer must be performed during a bonding rite sharda: men’s kiltlike garment—not plaid shera: men’s wraparound shirt. When made of heavy fabric it may serve as a coat sim: very mild alcoholic drink similar to ale singing stones: flat disks fashioned from chinka material that are used to capture any audio sound—played back by spinning the disk slith: tiny decorative knife worn as a hair ornament by warriors, given in recognition of special events in the warrior’s life, used in the oath-binding ceremony wachaz: thorny bush. Leaves are used for tea to relieve cramping particularly for schalzina, bark is used for tea to relieve headache wolvala: species of wild wolf woolie: species of sheep. Wool used for clothing, meat for food
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Prologue Heat shimmered over the valley in the hottest day in the elders’ memories. Far off to the north gray clouds were beginning to form and most of the inhabitants hoped for a cooling rain. In Lost Market a woman labored in the terrible heat to deliver the newest inhabitants of the valley. The woman leaned back against her mate’s broad, comforting chest and panted between contractions. Her dark auburn hair was plastered to her head and her bluetinted skin was pale and sheened with sweat as she labored to deliver their fifth and sixth children in the exotic surroundings of Mystic Valley. Old Marta, their midwife, waited patiently for the contraction to peak and carefully eased out the tiny head covered with thick, black, silky hair with her gnarled fingers. On the next contraction, Jade finished expelling the baby from her tired body. Marta handed the baby to Dai, their healer, partner and semtorn. He tenderly cradled the baby while she severed the cord and clamped it. Dai held the baby up so they could all see him and softly pronounced softly the traditional blessing, “Arano Llewellyn, may you grow strong and steady with honor and love.” Tiny Arano was not happy be there. He arched his little back and wailed in protest while Dai thoroughly inspected him. His baby-soft blue skin roughened with chills despite the heat as he opened his black eyes and blinked in the softly lit bedroom. Impulsively, Dai kissed the baby’s tiny pointed ears before he wrapped the baby boy carefully in a soft cotton cloth and placed him in his father’s arms. With surprising swiftness, the second baby arrived and was placed in Dai’s waiting arms. He lifted the baby up and repeated the blessing, “Arturo Llewellyn, may you grow strong and steady with honor and love.” While he wrapped and cuddled the second baby, Marta tended Jade as Merlyn softly described the babes to their mother, who had lost her sight in a climbing accident a few short months before their birth. Merlyn and Jade had been seeking a way out of the closed valley but after the accident and the near loss of Jade and her babies, they quietly decided they would stay in the valley. “Two fine boys—identical twins. An eagle and a bear,” Dai crowed with quiet satisfaction and pride. “They are beautiful babies, Jade. Black hair and black eyes. They will look like Merlyn when they are older.” When Marta and Dai had finished cleaning up and caring for Jade, they quietly left the new parents and babies to get acquainted while they went into the small kitchen where Rosa Burns, the butcher’s wife, was preparing tea while she kept an attentive eye on the noisy group of children playing out in the back yard.
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Eppie was squatting in the dirt with six-year-old Samara McCrory, her best friend, making mud pies. At age four, she was the oldest sibling of the new babies. Eppie’s wild black curls were stiff with the mud Samara had smeared on them when they were playing “hair arranging.” Streaks of the yellow mud smeared her soft blue cheeks. Fourteen month old Wrenna staggered over to the girls, plopping down exactly in the middle of their collection of miniature pottery dishes, prompting a sharp squabble between the two smallest girls. Sammie intervened, kissing Wrenna’s tiny cheek and patting her copper curls with a muddy blue hand, and soon play peacefully resumed. In the far corner, six-year-old Jacob Taylor supervised his underling warriors, threeyear-old twins Tyger and Llyon, as they attacked imaginary enemies with their pretend swords, yelling warlike cries and threats. Like all valley children under seven, they were comfortable and innocently naked in their pale blue skin. Under the deep shade out of the hot summer sun, the older children, Elizabeth McCrory and Joshua Taylor, played Filaii, a board game that involved strategy and linear thinking. “All is well?” Rosa asked placidly. “Yes,” Dai replied with satisfaction. “Two boys, Arano and Arturo. Jade is doing well.” He peeked out the window, noted that all the children were playing peacefully and nodded his head. “So this will even them up. Three red heads, three with black hair. I think all of us hoped the babies would have dark hair. Already I wonder if that red hair has set fire to Ty and Ly’s brains. They are born warriors.” Marta plopped down in a chair at the table and grunted. “Six children in four years. Let us hope that Jade has a rest now.” When she shook her head in vague disapproval the row of tiny gold rings lining her pointed ears jingled in emphasis. “May the valley bless her but I can’t understand why she keeps going into schalzina! No other woman in the valley has schalzina nearly so often.” Rosa set two steaming mugs of blueberry tea in front of them. “Can’t you do something to postpone her schalzina, Dai? Surely your mates have enough children now.” Dai slowly shook his head and sipped his tea. “When I bonded with them, I certainly didn’t anticipate that she would be pregnant for so much of the time. I know Merlyn is concerned that her health will suffer, especially after that terrible fall. It is a blessing that the babies are healthy.” Marta sniffed with disdain. “I’m not sure about blessings, Dai. Who will take care of the new babies?” “I will,” Dai retorted firmly. “Merlyn and I will take care of all the children.” Marta laughed uproariously at that. “You and Merlyn. Hah! He has six with Jade. You have four children. You’re both crazy. When will Banisher return from visiting his grandparents?” Dai squinted into the sunshine and reluctantly admitted, “He won’t be coming home. Now that he’s eighteen, he’s been accepted as an Archivist apprentice at Talking Wall. I had hoped he would take his warrior vows but…”
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“He chose not too, eh? Well,” Marta observed with a sharp nod, “children must make their own decisions when they become adults. And Susie and Patty? When will they be back from Dai’s Hamlet?” “Next eight-day. Their grandparents are keeping them an extra eight-day because of the new babies. They wanted to stay the rest of the summer but I want them to come home. I am thinking about building a retreat near Dai’s Hamlet so that we can all visit more often.” “Well, perhaps it’s as well that they won’t be back until next eight-day. You will have your hands full with the new babies as it is,” Rosa said softly. “The older children are well behaved but even two more can make a big difference. If you need help, just ask.” Dai sat back and tapped nervously on his mug before he reluctantly inquired, “Did Silence come home yet?” Rosa shook her head. “No. No one’s seen her, Dai. I’m thinking you might want the warriors to begin a search for her. She’s never been gone this long.” “She’s never been this angry,” Dai pointed out dryly. “The valley save me from young girls in love! Whatever does she see in that joke of a man? This is when I especially miss her mother. Margo would have known how to handle her.” Marta snorted with disgust. “That kind! There’s nothing to handle. Homer likes them young and he pays attention to her. She hasn’t had her bonding training yet, so she doesn’t understand what he really wants from her. You should have sent her for the training last year. You watch him, Dai. I don’t trust him.” “What is he going to do?” Dai asked mildly. “If he doesn’t find a semtorn, he won’t become part of the valley. And it won’t be possible to bond with anyone.” He bared his fangs in annoyance. “That’s not likely for someone like him.” “That might not prevent him from taking Silence against her will. You keep an eye on him,” Marta reiterated. “I don’t trust him.” Dai nodded slowly as he considered her advice. Marta was sharp, even with her impatience and rigidity. “You’re right, of course. If you don’t mind watching the younglings, I’ll take a walk. See if I can find her.” Rosa nodded agreeably and pushed a stray silver strand back behind her ear. “Go right ahead. The children are fine and Morgana and Rachel should be back from Bell’s Corner soon. Marta and I will have a comfortable gossip until they get here.” Dai gulped his tea down and left without any more discussion. He didn’t want to admit to the two women just how uneasy his older daughter’s continued absence made him. She often went off in a snit but never had she stayed away so long. Their argument earlier in the morning had just been the latest in a series of disagreements since Homer had started sniffing around Silence. According to the valley laws at fourteen years Silence was old enough to choose a mate but Dai was under no illusions about her maturity level. Her body, much more developed than her mind, was an attractive lure to the men in the valley. Several had 10
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already approached her, offering themselves as prospective bond mates. Her fascination with Homer, an older, pudgy, out-of-shape male, baffled Dai. What was the attraction? Not far from the village he met Morgana and Rachel on the trail dragging an overloaded cart with their little ones, Qwenna, Andrew and Sapphira perched on top of the bundles. “Dai! Just the man we wanted to see!” Rachel huffed. They stopped and caught their breath. Then Rachel said, “Cowal Winter said to tell you Silence has bonded with that Homer Brown. They registered the bond this morning and they’re headed up to Jump Stag Spring.” Dai scowled in disbelief. “Cowal is sure?” “He saw the scars on their hands and witnessed Homer’s bite mark.” Morgana’s sober sympathetic face convinced Dai. “I’m sorry, Dai, but it’s done. Homer told Cowal he’s got a place up near Jump Stag Spring where he’s going to farm and raise woolies.” Dai hung his head in reluctant acceptance. According to valley law, he had no other recourse. Morgana noted the silver strands in his golden brown braids. In the last few years, it had turned so quickly that now there was more silver than brown. When he lifted his head the sorrow in his bright green eyes was so heavy she felt she was witnessing intensely private grief and she dropped her eyes to afford him time to cope. Finally, he took a deep breath. “May she have many children and a long life,” he murmured the ancient blessing. With a deep sigh, he turned to the women and confessed, “He is not the man I would have chosen for her but she has made her choice and life must go on. You are both tired. I will pull the cart and tell you about the new babies.” With delight and excitement, the two women exclaimed as he shared the story of the newest inhabitants of the valley.
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Chapter One In the forest behind the pale blue dome where the Browns lived on the edge of Lost Market, Arano slouched against the trunk on a broad limb high in a malzhal tree, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Some of his dark braids caught on the rough bark when he shifted, scratching his bare back on the trunk. He cocked his knees and his gray sharda slithered along his legs, bunching in a soft pile of fabric at his crotch. He idly picked at the iron-hard, glittering black wood with his flicknife while he mulled over all that he knew about the disrupting changes coming to the peaceful valley. It was barely spring but he foresaw a turbulent summer and fall. His recent series of visions were nothing like the others he’d had since he was a small child. Those were mostly minor disturbances. Simple, non-life-threatening things. Llyon falling out of a tree and breaking his arm. Eppie getting lost in the woods. Wrenna twisting her ankle. His last few visions were dreadful and destructive. If there was real truth in them, then Arturo was in terrible danger. They had argued violently for the first time since their birth over twenty years ago when Arano tried to convince Arturo not to go hunting at the Far Woods. Then Turo had angrily stalked off, determined to prove that Arano was wrong. In his soul, Arano knew he wasn’t wrong and he grieved for the ordeal he was helpless to prevent. Violence, danger and change were coming to the valley and there was nothing he could do except share his visions and hope someone would listen. Without warning, a terrifying shriek screamed along the mental link he shared with his twin. Before he even realized it was happening, Arano had dropped from his perch and was drumming through the woods to Lost Market, intent on reaching Arturo. Arano! Arturo pleaded. Help me! I’m coming! Fight, Arturo! I’m coming! Arano hit the river bridge at a dead run, pounding across the wooden span in half a dozen strides. By the time he reached the far edge of the training field, Llyon and Tyger had caught up with him. Far behind them, their father and Dai trotted as fast as they could, knowing that they had no hope of keeping up with the younger men. I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming… Arano mindlessly repeated his assurance, a desperate mantra against the terrifying fear that Arturo wouldn’t survive long enough for them to reach him. As Arturo’s shrieks for help grew fainter and weaker and finally degenerated into mindless chaos, Arano poured on more speed, all the while adjuring his twin to hold on, to fight, to stay with him.
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At the edge of the Far Wood, several men silently waited. Arano and his brothers recognized the guardian warriors and halted long enough for him to demand, “Where is he?” Shadrach Bell, the towering, powerful son of the Bell’s Corner clan chief, didn’t try to detain him but merely picked a man to escort them into the heavy forest. Time enough for intervention when they saw exactly what had been done to their sibling. Not far into the woods a circle of men stood guarding a blood-covered bundle on the forest floor. Arano’s heart stopped. Then he moved to the “thing” that was his twin and dropped to his knees next to his brother’s head. When Llyon would have touched Arturo, he stopped him. “Don’t touch him yet,” he ordered sharply. “He’s not stable enough to tolerate anyone’s touch.” “What would you have us do, Arano?” Llyon’s frustration and rage were clear. “Let him die?” “No! But if you touch him before I link with him, he will die! There is nothing but chaos inside his mind,” Arano whispered desolately. “Nothing but chaos.” Tyger jerked Llyon away from Arturo, restraining Llyon by wrapping his strong arms around him, and nodded to Arano. “Do whatever you need to do.” Then he buried his face in his twin’s fiery braids and held him close, knowing they were feeling the same ferocious fury. Yanking his sharda off, Arano spread it on the ground near Arturo’s head. He knelt as close to Arturo as possible and gently, oh so gently, moved Arturo’s head to his lap, knowing that of all the senses, the sense of smell was the most primitive. And the deep, musky scent of skin was the earliest scent imprinted on a child. Let Arturo be surrounded by his twin’s scent. The reassurance of their shared scent would reach him on the deepest level. When Arturo’s head was cradled in his lap, Arano placed his palms on each side of his brother’s face, fiercely blocking out the terrible bruises and bloody damage and dived into his mind. It was far worse than he had feared. Pain and terror swirled in a chaotic whirlpool of despair and longing. Sternly suppressing the urge to scream from the anguish, Arano linked with his twin and began to create order from the chaos. I am here, he whispered. Arturo, I am here. Nothing will touch you now. I will let no one hurt you. I am here. He pushed deeper into true rapport, the mind sharing usually reserved for bond mates because of its naked intimacy. Rapport, where there were no secrets. No hidden longings. No private dreams. I am here, he whispered. I will always be here. With startling abruptness, Arturo whimpered and went limp. “Now,” Arano urged softly. “Heal him now.” Tyger released his twin and Llyon dropped to his knees next to Arturo. While Llyon raced to heal the most life-threatening damages, Shadrach and his brother Lazarus had
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their hands full with Merlyn and Dai. It took every bit of their ingenuity to keep Arturo’s father and his jloni from setting off on their own to capture the guilty party. Shade and Laz’s teams were already systematically searching the immediate area around Arturo for clues. “If you really want to help, then get over there and back up Llyon!” Laz finally yelled in exasperation. “What I do not need is your interference with the crime scene! I assume you do admit a crime was committed?” His angry sarcasm seemed to finally get through the haze of rage Merlyn and Dai were feeling. Dai inhaled sharply and reluctantly nodded. “You are correct, Lazarus. Forgive us for making your responsibilities more difficult.” Shade squatted in front of them perching on his heels. His skin, so dark blue it was nearly navy, was pulled taut across his stern, tense face. He studied the two men in front of him, Merlyn a tall, broad shouldered man with streaming black and silver braids, Dai a short, little man with hair gone completely silver, and wondered what had impelled them to swear a covenant bond. They were such a study in contrasts. What did they have in common except Jade? “If you will also forgive us for putting our responsibilities before your needs, we will put it all aside. I’m sorry, Merlyn, but we must find out who did this. I don’t think it was the first time.” Merlyn sighed and slumped down on a fallen log. “Tell me why you think that, Laz.” “Can you put your rage aside long enough to really look at Arturo?” “I can if he can’t,” Dai declared with sudden determination. “Then come and tell me what you see.” Lazarus led the way as they approached Arturo. After a moment, Merlyn got up and reluctantly followed them. When they reached Arturo, Dai and Merlyn staggered to a stop, unable to comprehend that he still lived. Dai slipped his arm around Merlyn’s waist and sagged against him. “Gods of the ancients! What animal did this?” “No animal,” Merlyn said coldly as he slid a comforting arm around Dai’s shoulder to support him. “This was a man. Maybe two or three because it would certainly have taken more than one to disable Arturo so quickly and thoroughly.” “Then you agree,” Lazarus said. “Look at the bruises on his ankles and wrists,” Merlyn pointed out with a jerk of his chin. “Either he was held down or tied down. If he was tied, they took the restraints with them.” Shadrach joined them and sighed heavily. “I think he was posed, also. Arano moved him, of course, but when we arrived, he was hunched over on his knees, his knees were spread and his arms were straight out from his body like that cross Jade wears on a chain. The beating and cutting and blood markings were secondary thrills. The rape was the main objective and they wanted that to be clearly understood.”
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“From the internal damage done, his attacker wasn’t garzhan,” Llyon interrupted quietly. “This was someone who wanted to inflict as much pain as possible. I don’t think he used his kzusha. He used something else—a stick or something similar. Arturo is torn internally.” As softly as he spoke, there was no doubt his towering rage was barely held in check only by the presence of his own twin. With Tyger’s help, he stood up, wavering on his feet. “He’s as stable as I can get him now. We need to get him someplace warm where we can clean those cuts. Some of them will need stitches.” Wolfe and Hawke pounded into the clearing and Wolfe cursed when he saw Arturo’s body. Lazarus gestured for his men to bring the stretcher they’d prepared. When they were ready, Merlyn touched Arano’s head very lightly and asked, “Arano? Can he be moved now?” Arano slowly nodded his head. “If I stay with him. Let me clasp his hands in mine, first.” He opened his eyes and looked at his father. “No one can touch him except family. I don’t think he could bear it.” Shade agreed. “It makes perfect sense. All right. Everyone back off except his family. Rory, take a team and start back-tracking these fuckers. I want them now! The rest of you get ready to take Arturo to our house as soon as he’s ready to travel.” “No!” Everyone looked at Arano in surprise. “He needs to be home.” “That’s a long way,” Tyger objected carefully. “Bell’s house would be closer and Llyon is barely standing now.” Arano shook his head emphatically. “I know that! I can only tell you that he needs to be home. Papa and Dai will have to help you with Llyon.” Merlyn looked at Shadrach and Lazarus. Shade shrugged. “Then you go back to Lost Market. I trust Arano to know what Arturo needs.” “There is one other thing,” Arano said coldly. “The name of the man who did this.” A frozen silence fell over the clearing. “Who?” Laz demanded just as coldly. “Jonathon, the elder from the woodcutter’s enclave. And Lazarus, Arturo was definitely not the first. You will find the others in a small clearing to the west.” Arano shut his eyes and frowned. “Perhaps five hundred paces.” He opened his eyes and looked directly at Laz. “There are many of them there. Some of them have been there a very long time. Be prepared.” Lazarus and Shadrach watched the slow procession wend their way out of the woods toward Lost Market. Then, as one, they led their team deeper into the woods, dreading the prospect they faced.
*****
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Late that evening Jade rocked in the darkness in her bedroom. The darkness made no difference to her, of course, because she couldn’t see but something about the stillness spoke to her soul. She didn’t need Arano’s visions to know that change and anguish were coming to the valley. Shifting in the bent willow rocker, she scratched her back against the knobby wood. When would Merlyn and Dai come? Knowing that Arturo needed their healing skills, she found other things to do, but now it was late and their continued absence was gnawing at her. The door opened and suddenly, her mates were there, pulling her from the rocker and wrapping their arms around her. Instantly, she relaxed into their embrace, letting her fears recede for the moment. “Arturo?” she asked. “Is sleeping,” Dai replied quietly. “As we should be. Arano is with him.” “How bad?” Merlyn knew she would be able to tell if he was withholding information, so he told her everything. It hurt. Oh, how it hurt, in the way that a child’s pain always hurts a parent. When she sagged, for just a moment he regretted telling her all of it but then he felt her straighten up and gird herself for the next question. “Did they get that bastard?” Dai bit his lip to hold back his initial response. When he was sure he could answer in a reasonable tone he said, “Lazarus and Shadrach have all of them in custody at the top of Needle Rock. They questioned them this afternoon with three of the council morkerts.” “And? What are you not saying Dai?” He shrugged still stiff with rage. “It’s been going on for years. Apparently, they’ve murdered as many as thirty youngsters over a forty-year period. It happened so slowly and so infrequently that no one caught on. Most of them were younglings who took off after an argument with their parents.” “It seems that two or three of them might have been out-valley visitors that wandered in the wrong direction,” Merlyn added. “We can’t be sure but based on the descriptions, that’s the most likely.” Both Dai and Merlyn could feel her vibrating with rage. “When is the judgment?” “Tomorrow morning at dawn.” Merlyn released her and moved to the broad hanging bed to sit down. “Arano has asked to be the witness. I think he needs this, so I gave my permission.” He could almost feel her thinking as she considered all of the consequences. Then she and Dai joined him on the bed and she took his hand in hers. “It will serve, Merlyn. He needs to see it finished.” “Dai said the same,” Merlyn admitted. Involuntarily, Jade smiled. Then, after planting a soft kiss on Dai’s forehead, she pointed out, “Dai is frequently wiser than either of us. Isn’t that one of the reasons we love him?”
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“Is that the reason? I thought it was because he knows at least fifty ways to make our children behave.” Merlyn stood, pulled her to her feet and unfastened her meerlim. While Dai slid it off her shoulders, Merlyn brushed her mouth with a soft, tender kiss. “Are you too tired to play, lovey? Dai and I really need to love you tonight.” “Dai needs to love us every night,” she retorted tartly before chuckling softly. “Hmm. Let’s see what we can do to make us all feel better.” Dai tapped her smartly on the ass. “Behave, Jade. You may tease us some other night. Tonight we need to hold you and be close. Today was a terrible, terrible day.” She grabbed his hand and brought it to her breast. “Then hold me, touch me, light of our hearts.” Dai and Merlyn made short work of getting rid of their shardas. Merlyn lifted Jade and placed her in the center of their huge bed while Dai trotted around the room, twisting the lightstones until the room was glowing with soft radiance. With Merlyn on one side and Dai on the other, Jade settled back in the luxurious comfort of thick feather mattresses and pillows covered with silky cotton sheets. There was no place in the world she would rather be than exactly where she was now. Grasping her hands, Merlyn stretched her arms over her head and pressed her hands against the smooth spindles in the low protective railing at the head of the bed. “Keep them there,” he directed quietly before moving down so that he could nibble the taut line of her neck and chin while he toyed with her breasts, circling, circling but never quite touching her nipples. Dai scooted down to the foot of the bed and began with her feet, licking and nipping his way up her smooth legs until he reached her knees. Long ago, he and Merlyn had discovered that one of her primary erogenous zones was the hollows behind her knees. He flicked his nimble tongue along the crease behind her right knee and she arched up, calling out their names. Merlyn ran gentle hands over her shoulders, trailing them down along the outside curves of her breasts. For the mother of fourteen children, her breasts were remarkably firm. His fingers brushed her ribs before nudging her breasts into plump mouthfuls topped by tight strawberry nipples. He very lightly flicked the nipples with the flat pad of his thumbs. “Too bad we don’t have the nipple clamps we had that week at the cabin in the mountains,” he murmured. “Or the butt plug.” “I thought that’s why we had Dai—so you could take turns?” she teased breathlessly before her voice broke on a moan. Dai ran his hand up the backs of her thighs, brushing across another of her erogenous zones, and she let out a little shriek before Merlyn laid a light palm across her mouth. “Shhh. We don’t want to wake the kids.” Snorting in derision, Dai bent his head and puffed a warm breath of air over her taut clit. “As though they don’t know what we do in here. I caught Arturo and Arano peeping through a hole they made in the wall.” Merlyn raised his head and stared down at Dai in consternation. “When?” 17
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“When they were fourteen. It seems that every blessed one of them had used it to peek on us once they turned thirteen.” With gentle, tender thumbs, Dai spread Jade’s pussy open and kissed her glistening wet flesh lovingly. “At least they got a first hand look at us making love with each other, sharing pleasure because of our love. That’s something that Arturo will remember someday when he’s ready.” Jade’s whimper turned into a groan when Dai wriggled two thick fingers inside her pussy and lightly scraped across the surface of her schela. “Dai…” Jade arched against the fingers teasing the incredibly sensitive nerves. “If you do that I’ll come before I have a chance to love you and Merlyn,” she panted. “We’ll worry about playing some other night,” Merlyn mumbled against her breast. “Tonight we need to touch you and—” “Be in charge!” she interrupted. “Do you think I don’t know that? I still feel rage vibrating from both of you.” Merlyn bit down gently on her tight nipple. “As we can feel your anger. We know that the female is far more deadly than the male, baby. If we don’t get rid of some of this adrenaline, none of us will sleep tonight. Now be a good girl and just work with us, hmm?” Dai flicked his agile tongue around her hard little clit while he pumped his fingers in and out of her pussy. The scent of her arousal grew heavy and both men knew she was close to climax. Abruptly, they withdrew and moved away. Jade nearly screamed in frustration. Then Merlyn was tugging her body down in the bed. Dai helped her turn over and move up onto her knees. Jade rocked impatiently while Dai moved past her to the head of the bed. When he was sprawled back against the pillows with his knees hiked up and spread wide, he gently guided her head to his cock. “I have something here for you, baby.” “About time,” she grumbled sulkily before eagerly taking his hot leaking cock into her warm mouth. Instantly, her mouth watered from the familiar musky flavor on her tongue. She settled into a steady pressure, suckling while Dai worked his cock in and out as he gently rubbed the wildly responsive points of her ears. Jade jerked. Merlyn cursed under his breath and held her hips in place as he fitted the fat head of his cock at the slippery opening of her pussy. “Hold still, dammit, until I get in! Dai, quit teasing her for a minute. You know how sensitive her ears are.” “What I know,” Dai panted, “is that Jade could suck the glaze off Wrenna’s pottery when I rub her ears.” Everyone froze in place while Merlyn thrust forward, filling Jade’s pussy in one long move. Jade rocked her ass back against his taut belly, anxious to get every last bit of him inside. Leaning forward so that his warm, damp chest covered her back, he cupped her breasts and tweaked her ruched, pale lavender nipples with his fingers.
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Dai lightly rimmed the shells of her ears with his fingertips as she took him back in her wet mouth, suckling his hard cock like she was starving. Groans and moans and vague grunts filled the air as the three mates moved in unison. Wet heat, dense musky scents, smooth slick skin, all combined with the tightening, twisting sensations of approaching climaxes. Searing heat poured over Jade as waves of contractions milked Merlyn’s cock. Moments later, he thrust heavily with a deep groan as his jetting climax filled her pussy. Dai clutched his hands in her dark red waves and held her head still as he pulsed deep in her throat. Heavy, exhausted panting filled the room. Merlyn slowly withdrew, collapsing on the bed next to Dai. Dai took a deep shuddering breath and pulled Jade up into the shelter of his arms. Merlyn sniffed. “We need a bath before we sleep,” he observed softly. “Good, you get it ready while Jade and I nap.” Dai rubbed Jade’s shoulders gently. “Besides I’m too old for all this jumping around.” Jade gave a little ladylike snort. “Right. You’re only what? Seventy-two? You’re not even middle-aged yet. Don’t even talk to me about old until you reach your hundreds.” “Well, I’m older than Merlyn,” Dai pointed out defensively. “Bragging, Dai?” Merlyn teased as he rolled from the bed to his feet and stretched. Suddenly, he yawned mightily and groaned. “I am so tired. Something about a crisis just exhausts the body.” Dai rolled sideways, taking Jade with him. “I do not want to get up. But as you said, we need a bath before we sleep and I need to check on Arturo. Jade, love, do you want a mug of tea before we sleep?” He crawled from the bed and quickly wrapped his sharda around him and pressed the fastenings. “That’s why we bonded with you!” she declared in a loud whisper. “You always think of the little things.” “I’ll have you know that nothing I come up with is small or insignificant,” he retorted as he slipped out into the dark hall. He padded barefoot down the hall to Arturo and Arano’s room. The door was wide open so he stayed in the doorway, silently observing them in the soft light of a dim lightstone. Arturo was curled in a tight ball in the center of the bed with Arano behind him, one arm flung around Turo’s waist. While he watched, Turo jerked and flailed in his sleep and Arano woke instantly, soothing him back to sleep. With a little nod, Dai went to the kitchen to make tea. When he returned to their room, Merlyn and Jade were nearly asleep in the huge round tub. Jade sleepily accepted the mug he placed in her hands while Merlyn lazily washed her with soft lavender soap. Dai settled into the hot water with a deep, heartfelt sigh. “Turo is sleeping. Arano is dozing. For tonight, they should be fine. Tomorrow will be another day, though,” he reported quietly as he sank down so that the water reached his chin. “Gods of the ancients but I am sore. I’m too old to be running from here to the 19
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Far Woods. We’ll need to ask Arano’s advice about someone to stay with Turo during the day.” “I will stay with him,” Jade informed them in the midst of a gigantic yawn. “If need be I can put him to sleep but I don’t think it will be necessary.” “In that case, we’d better get to bed. Are you done with that tea?” Merlyn asked. “All done.” She handed her mug to Dai and Merlyn helped her from the tub. In a very short while, the last of the house inhabitants surrendered to sleep.
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Chapter Two Because of Llyon’s profligate use of his healing skills, Arturo’s physical recovery was fairly quick. When Arano considered the terrible damage Turo had suffered, it seemed miraculous that his twin was back on his feet, cautiously getting his strength back, long before Arano had anticipated. His emotional healing was another thing entirely. Though his attackers had long since perished on the judgment seat, Arturo was still withdrawn and often silent. One night when Arano tried to speak to Arturo about it, his twin held up a hand and said, “Stop. I can’t talk about what happened yet.” Arano started to speak, stopped and then burst out, “I should have stopped you. If I had told the others, they would have tied you down if they had to.” “Stop it, Arano. Nothing would have prevented it and you know why. I know you saw what is in my heart when you shared rapport with me!” Arano hung his head in frustration. “I can’t be what you need, Arturo. We are not twin-bond,” he whispered. Arturo moved to wrap him in his arms. “Do you think I don’t know that? I was there too when we were in rapport. I saw where your heart is. I know your grief.” He shook Arano. “So, we will go forward. It will take me a little while I think but we will support each other and that will be the best we can do.” They stood for a long time, embracing each other and then Arano nodded his head. “All right. What can I do to make it easier for you?” “Be here. Be here when the nightmares come. I’m sorry but I can’t cope with the others around me right now. You understand?” “Yes,” Arano replied soberly. “I understand.” “If you are here, then I can let go of it a little at a time.” Arturo inhaled sharply and pinched his nose. “It’s too private, too personal, to share with the others. Not even Llyon or Tyger.” “I do understand, Turo. Why do you think I’ve never said anything about—” “Silence?” Arturo gently teased. “Oh, yes, I can see what a storm in a pot that would create.” “Well, then.” “Well,” Arturo agreed. “Forward.”
*****
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Spring edged into early summer. Arturo couldn’t bear to hunt anymore so he took on the responsibility for the younger warriors’ training while Arano labored to take up the slack. Together, they processed the skins Arano collected after turning the meat over to the village butcher, Eron Burns. Eron calculated the value of the meat and notified the barter keeper, Noah Jones. Between Turo’s barter value for training and the barter value from Arano’s hunting, they made enough credits to cover their own needs and contribute to their parents’ household. Supporting fourteen children was an expensive proposition, even in the remote Mystic Valley. Arturo worried about Arano. Their places had switched gradually until now it was Turo comforting Arano when he woke from the nightmares instead of the other way around. Arano refused to speak about them except admit that his visions showed great changes coming to the valley. Turo knew that Arano spent increasing amounts of time perched high in the malzhal tree out behind the Brown’s dome watching Silence and Homer. Arano told Turo he was positive that Homer was beating Silence but neither of them could think of a solution or way to prevent it from happening. While they were respected warriors and hunters, twenty wasn’t considered a great age in the valley, where the elders were well past their century mark. It would take more than Arano’s say-so to get a hearing with the village council. As summer progressed and it grew closer to the Midsummer Gathering, Arano’s tension was almost palpable. Arturo began to carefully watch Arano, concerned that his inattention to his surroundings would place him in danger. Wolvalas and grimahrs grew bolder and attacked more frequently in early summer because they had young to feed. Arano was quite aware of Turo’s covert observation and welcomed it. He had no secrets from his twin except the contents of his visions. Certainly Arturo knew about his feelings for Silence, mated though she might be. One afternoon while stretched out on his customary limb in the malzhal tree, Arano fell into a light doze. Without warning, the vision was upon him. A young man fleeing up a mountain, seeking escape from the group of men following him. In his sleep, Arano hissed in realization. Dancer. His eldest sister’s bond mate was nearing the valley. With shocking speed, he was awake, dropping down out of the tree and on his way almost before he had time to process the vision. As he neared his parents’ multi-hued domes, he slowed, taking time to consider exactly how much of his vision he would share. With care, he picked through the components of the vision until he had a complete narrative to share. Then, comfortable with his story, he crossed the back yard and entered the kitchen. Llyon was stirring a huge pot of rowan stew while discussing Llynx and Panther’s latest transgression with his twin, Tyger, and Wrenna. The two younger boys’ imaginative exploits were a never-ending source of amazement to their older siblings.
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Arano snagged a mug from the old wooden cupboard and made himself some chamomile tea to settle his churning stomach. “Eppie’s at the garden?” he inquired idly when they reached a break in their conversation. “She is,” Wrenna confirmed with a little nod that sent her braided topknot bobbing. “Do you need to see her?” “That would be good,” Arano agreed. “Preferably not at her garden shed where she’s experimenting with those foltins and drackas. I don’t know what about them makes me sneeze but I’m in no mood for watering eyes and sneezing the rest of the afternoon.” Wrenna clucked sympathetically. “I’m taking a tray of little pots to her in a few minutes. I’ll tell her you want to see her. Will you wait here?” “I’ll wait,” he confirmed. “Tell her that her man’s coming soon. That ought to make sure she’ll come right away.” While Wrenna went to take care of her errand, Wolfe wandered into the kitchen in search of something to tide him over until dinner. With the ease of long practice, Arano and Wolfe studiously ignored the undercurrents swirling between their eldest brothers. Unlike Arano and Arturo, Ly and Ty were twin-bond, destined from birth to remain a pair until their death. Destiny was preparing them an uncomfortable, thorny bed so they resisted the path fate had chosen for them. Protected and revered by law, someday they would take the final step with a covenant bond. But not today. Today they were pretending that their destiny was elsewhere. Just as Wrenna breezed back into the kitchen, Wolfe shook his dark head, snorted with impatience and left. “Eppie’s coming as soon as she gets her hands clean,” Wrenna declared with a giggle. “You should have seen her trying to catch me when I told her about her man.” “You should be careful, Wrenna,” Arano cautioned. “Your turn will come and it will not be nearly as smooth as Eppie’s.” “What have you seen?” She demanded as she rushed around the table to his side. “What?” Arano shrugged in cool boredom. “He will come later and there will be difficulties. You will have to show great patience.” Suddenly he grinned and his fangs flashed. “That’s something I eagerly wait to see.” “Arano Llewellyn, you beast!” “Peace, tiny one,” he teased, picking on her diminutive stature. “Your time will come soon, though not yet. Now it’s Eppie’s turn.” Just then, Eppie slipped into the kitchen and composedly nodded at the group. Arano handed his empty mug to Tyger and cocked an eyebrow in query. “You’ve talked to your man?” “Yes,” she admitted calmly. “A group is pursuing him—he said to capture or kill him.” “He will find his way here tomorrow or the next day, I think. Soon…” Arano said thoughtfully. Tapping his chin with one long finger, he shook his head slowly. “I cannot
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see if his pursuers will follow him but I see him in the valley.” He flashed a rare grin her way. “Very attractive too. Grab him quickly or Arturo might take him away from you.” “I would like to see him try,” she retorted swiftly. “We need to be ready if Dancer’s pursuers follow him.” “We’re always prepared for intruders, if necessary,” Tyger reminded them. “Of course, it would be better if he managed to arrive alone.” “True. However, we must deal with the real possibility of others following him. So, I suggest that you make what preparations you need to deal with that eventuality.” Having delivered his message, Arano left without another word, allowing the kitchen door to slam behind him. He hoped that they took him seriously. Something big was brewing for the valley.
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Chapter Three Early morning dew still quivered heavily on the plants in the small garden when Silence quietly opened the front door of the blue dome where she and Homer had lived for the last five years. It was well outside the village of Lost Market, far enough away from the villagers so that no one would hear her screams when Homer decided she needed to be punished. Sometimes—rarely in the last few years—he used his fists. Mostly he whipped her with a willow or birch switch. The cuts were barely healed from the last time, so she tiptoed through the door, shutting it silently behind her. If she hurried, she would be able to get fresh bread from the bakery and fresh hopper slices from the butcher and still be back before Homer woke wanting his breakfast. Though the morning was very warm already, she wore a dark, heavy, long sleeved linen meerlim to hide the scarring on her back. Homer was very particular about her clothing. He often called her a fucking slut when he was angry. Though she wasn’t exactly sure what the out-valley words meant, she was pretty sure that they were bad words. Her gilt-blonde hair was neatly braided and wound in a topknot that was completely covered by the fragile lace cap. No shoes or sandals because Homer said she didn’t need them. She sighed softly. It made it hard to keep her feet clean enough to walk on the white tile floors he insisted on. She kept a bucket of water and some rags by the door so that she could clean her feet whenever she went back inside. In a few minutes she reached the grassy central green in the village and gratefully stepped on the soft surface. Skirting around the huge weaver and healer dome she hurried down the verge of the path to the butcher. Eron Burns always opened his shop early in the morning. When she reached the butcher shop, Eron was just propping his door and windows open to let in the light morning breeze. “Silence! What are you doing out so early?” Glancing away so that he wouldn’t think she was trying to look him in the eye, she smiled shyly and asked, “Have you any hopper slices this morning? I want to make a nice breakfast for Homer.” “Sure. Come on in.” Silence shook her head immediately. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. Could you just bring them out?” she asked anxiously. Eron, never a fool or friend of Homer’s, calmly reassured her, “Not a problem, Silence. You wait right there. Sit on that bench in the shade. I’ll be back as soon as I wrap them up.” Too nervous to sit, Silence stood just outside the door shifting impatiently from one foot to the other. Eron reappeared with a linual wrapped package tied with string. “Here you are. Let me know when you need more.” 25
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“Oh! So much?” she asked uneasily. “There’s only enough there for a couple of days. You’ll need to hurry now if you’re to get everything you need.” “Oh! You’re right!” She scurried off in the direction of the bakery, pausing just for a moment to call back to him, “Thank you, Eron!” Eron watched her until she reached the corner of the community garden, slowly shaking his head in disgust. Sure as his name was Eron Burns, that girl was in deep trouble. Good-for-nothing Homer Brown was beating that little girl and no one could do anything about it unless she brought a complaint. Silence trotted along the path next to the garden until she reached the bakery. She wound around the big beehive ovens, sniffing the mouthwatering scents of fresh bread. Just outside the door she stopped and knocked. Dan Miller, the baker, poked his head out, saw that it was Silence and nodded. “Be right back, Silence. You want the sunflower bread today? Or the wachaz?” “Sunflower, please,” she replied with a small smile. Dan wrapped the warm loaf in a snowy white towel and handed it out to her along with a fresh roll dripping with butter and honey. “Here, eat this quick and be careful not to let the honey drip on your meerlim,” he said with a wink. Moaning with delight at the unexpected treat, she hurriedly stuffed the roll in her mouth so that she looked rather like a chipmunk. With a brisk wave, she set off for home. Hurry, hurry, hurry. Homer would be awake soon. She ran down the path, hopping and jerking when her feet encountered particularly sharp stones in her hurry to get back. Breathing a sigh of relief, she rushed up the path to her front door, wiped both feet with the wet rag and slid through the narrow opening she allowed. Inside, she stopped dead and listened intently trying to hear over the pounding of her heart. Snores. Good, Homer was still asleep. Moving quickly, she ignited the hot rocks and set the griddle on top. Six hopper slices sizzled on the griddle while she took the last four peekie eggs from her egg basket. She broke them one by one in a small blue pottery bowl, whisking them with a fork. While she waited for the hopper slices to cook, she cut four generous slices of the fresh bread, slathered butter on them and set them next to the eggs, ready to brown on the grill. Hurry, hurry, hurry. She set the table with the pretty yellow pottery, utensils, an extra large mug for Homer’s wachaz tea and two linen napkins next to his utensils. Honey pot. Chopped rowan cheese for his eggs. She paused a minute to go over everything in her head. It was so hard to remember and it seemed like she always made a mistake. Peppers! She rushed out to the garden in the back, picked a fresh pepper and ran back in just in time to flip the hopper slices. Swiftly she cut up the pepper in small chunks and placed it in a little bowl, breathing a sigh of relief because she’d remembered. Removing the browned hopper slices, she slapped the bread slices on the griddle to toast.
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They were grilled a golden brown in just minutes. She stacked them up on the platter and poured the eggs on the griddle, pushing them around until they were light and fluffy. Homer called them scrambled eggs. Silence thought it was a funny name but she had only made the mistake once of laughing when he was around. No, sir, she never made that mistake again. Just as she spooned them on the plate, Homer shambled out of the bedroom, grumpy and stark naked. Instantly, she averted her gaze from his limp kzusha. One of his favorite punishments was making her crawl under the table and suck his kzusha while he ate. Desperately controlling the fine tremors in her hands, she carefully set the plate with his hot breakfast at his place. Homer scowled when he caught sight of the food. “Silence!” he roared. “You fucking slut! You went to the village alone this morning, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” He seized her by the hair and shoved her to her knees. “Take off that stupid dress!” She had forgotten to take off the meerlim! Silence slipped the meerlim off her shoulders, all the while shaking in terror. He dragged her into the bedroom, tied her hands to the bedpost and left her kneeling on the floor while he stomped back out to the kitchen to eat. Silence racked her brain, trying to decide why he was angry this time. Had he told her not to go to the village alone? She couldn’t remember. It bothered her that she remembered less and less. Why couldn’t she remember something that simple? In a while, Homer meandered back into the bedroom, burping loudly and idly fingering his kzusha. He smacked her cheek as he passed her on the way to the bathing room. She heard him groaning and burping as he cleaned up. He came back out muttering under his breath about “fucking stupid bitches” who didn’t follow directions and Silence began to shake. Ignoring her, he went to the high chest where his clothes were kept neatly folded and extracted a bright yellow sharda. He despised the kilt-like garments, calling them “sissy skirts”, but once an out-valley man wore out the garments he arrived in, there wasn’t anything else to wear. There was no question that Homer was an out-valley man. Even after twenty years, his skin had never turned blue, he never grew fangs and his ears weren’t pointed. It enraged him that he hadn’t changed and he blamed it on Silence. But then, he blamed most things in his life on Silence. Once he was dressed in the sharda and his boots, he stomped out to the living room. Silence heard the outside door slam and she sagged against the bed in relief. For now, she had a reprieve. She closed her eyes and dozed with her head leaned against the mattress while she waited for Homer to return. Well after noon, she heard the door open and the heavy tread of Homer’s feet. Inside, she sighed with resignation. Just from the way he walked, she could tell that he was building up a rage that he would inevitably take out on her. The bedroom door exploded inward, slamming against the wall and bouncing back. Homer’s face was dark with anger as the sweat beaded on his broad forehead. “Eron
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says I owe him for the hopper slices he gave you this morning. And the same from Dan the baker. Who gave you permission to run free with my barter credits?” he stormed in the doorway. He stepped into the room, ripped his sharda off one handed and flung it into the corner. She saw that he already had a bundle of willow switches in his huge fist and she cringed in terror. He freed her hands and yanked her by her hair until she was kneeling in front of him. “You know what I want,” he snarled. “Get busy!” Trembling violently, she lifted her hands to his soft cock and prepared to take him in her mouth. He growled. “No hands!” Nodding, she leaned forward and opened her mouth. It was a familiar task, one of longstanding. Sucking his kzusha was a daily occurrence with the venue being the only variable. Here, there, it mattered not where she was, though crouching under the kitchen table while he ate made her job more difficult. She had barely sucked his limp cock in her mouth, when she felt the lash of the willow switches down her back and she involuntarily clenched her teeth, scoring his flesh with her fangs. Homer howled in pain and jerked away. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the room suddenly got dark. He stood panting in the gloom, cursing and groaning. “You bitch!” Just as he seized her by her hair and threw her down on the bed, lightning flashed, lighting up the room. Homer raged and the switches scored new cuts on her back and buttocks. It seemed that the more violent the storm, the more he raged out of control. Abruptly, he tossed the switches down, jerked her limp body from the bed and hauled her out to the kitchen where he seized the knife she’d used to slice the bread that morning. Grabbing handfuls of her hair, he sheared it off. The realization came to her that this time he would kill her if she didn’t escape. When the last strands of hair came free and he stood with the knife in one hand and the last hank of blonde silk in the other, she rolled away and ran for the door. Her escape was more a matter of luck than anything else. It simply never occurred to Homer that she would even try. Silence ran down the path toward Lost Market when suddenly it dawned on her that she needed to hide. Rain poured down as the lightning continued to flash. Wind tossed the trees in a violent dance and thunder roared overhead. She plunged into the woods, oblivious to the whipping and snapping of the slender shoots and tree limbs, desperate to escape his rage. But she glimpsed him in the flashing lightning strikes, stalking her with the knife still in his hand. Where could she hide? Desperately, she huddled naked at the base of Needle Rock as the storm crashed all around her. She wept in despair, knowing that he was out there, just waiting for her to
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make a fatal mistake before the storm ended. Her shorn blonde hair curled damply around her face. She had to get away before he killed her. Thunder crackled overhead and the sky lit up, revealing Homer standing naked less than ten feet away. He raised his arms above him and screamed into the storm, though she couldn’t understand what he said. Suddenly, a searing bolt shot down, melding with the knife. He seemed to light up within as though he was burning, then with a final crashing bolt of thunder, he dropped flat on his face and was still. After a long time, she moved. Trembling, she got to her feet and slowly edged up to Homer’s body. When he didn’t move, she nudged him with her toe. He lay there like a cold lump of dough, flaccid and heavy. Frantically, she peered around her, wondering what to do. Where should she go? Arano, drinking tea in the kitchen with Arturo, suddenly slammed his mug down and stood up so quickly his chair turned over. “Silence!” “What’s wrong?” Turo asked as he rose, picked up the chair and set it back on its legs. “What do we need to do?” Shaking his head, Arano said, “No, stay here. She’s at Needle Rock. If we both go we might scare her. I’ll call if I need you.” He ran down the hallway to their room, snatched up a blanket and ran out into the storm. In the warm kitchen, Arturo sat down at the table and considered the possibilities. The storm raging overhead was a bonding storm, the first such storm in many, many years. It had begun the moment Eppie and Dancer completed their bonding. If the past was anything to go by, then most of the bonded women of childbearing age would enter schalzina, which automatically meant that their mates would be occupied with their care. And that in turn meant that very few warriors would be available to guard the valley. With a sigh, he got up, placed their mugs in the sink and went to get his weapons. Someone needed to take up guard duty in case Dancer’s pursuers found their way to the valley and it appeared that someone would be him. He stopped at Wolfe and Hawke’s room and shook them awake. With a few well chosen words, he explained his reasoning as they dressed. “We can stand watch from the catwalk at the weaving dome,” Wolfe suggested calmly. “From there we can see the entire village while we’re still under cover.” “Excellent idea, Wolfe. I’ll be right back and we’ll go over there.” When he returned with his weapons and his rain cloak, his brothers were ready. They ran out into the storm, crossed the wide green and burst through the door of the weaving dome, anxious to be out of the storm. Jagged lightning flashed, illuminating the huge room as they stood in appalled silence. “Gods of the ancients! What happened to Tyger’s loom?” Hawke blurted out as he stared at the shambles littering the floor. Tyger’s enormous loom was now just a heap of shattered glittering malzhal wood pieces too small to even use for fire wood. 29
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“Tyger.” Wolfe stared around the room in the flickering light and nodded in confirmation. “I always thought that Llyon would be the one to break down and go into the sexual frenzy but I was wrong. Tyger’s gone into schalzintelo because they didn’t complete the covenant bond.” Arturo nodded thoughtfully in agreement. “Llyon wasn’t in their room when I went by. He’s gone to find him. Let us hope he’s successful.” He took a deep breath. “We have no time to deal with this now. Come, let us go up to the catwalk. This night is just beginning.” Paralyzed with fear, Silence stood next to Homer’s body, uncertain of what she should do next. As the rain continued to fall in a heavy silver curtain, a man appeared out of the tempest and wrapped a blanket around her. “Silence, come with me!” he commanded firmly. “Come. We must get out of the storm!” “Arano! I don’t know what to do! I think Homer’s dead!” “Leave him. My father and I will take care of him. Come with me. I’ll walk you home.” Arano led her down the path to her house, overcoming her resistance to returning there. “I will send someone to stay with you,” he promised. “Tomorrow, my father will talk to you about the death rites. Try to sleep tonight.” She stopped and turned to face him. “I didn’t do anything, Arano. I swear I didn’t do anything to him.” She picked at the wet ragged strands of hair plastered across her face. “He chopped my hair off with my kitchen knife!” He gently pushed the hair back from her face and resisted the urge to gather her in his arms. “Dearheart! I believe you. Trust me. I will take care of everything. Now go inside and get dried off.” When she didn’t move, he gave her a gentle push. “Go. I have to fetch my father.” He watched to make sure she was safely inside before he ran down the path back to the village. There was much to do before daylight. And once this was all settled, he would make sure that Silence was finally his.
***** In the early dawn light, Dai and Arano stood studying the body, shoulders hunched as the rain poured down though the wind no longer whistled through the village. Homer was despised by all who knew him and a deep personal puzzle to Dai. He had never been able to figure out why his daughter Silence had run away with Homer when she was just a young woman. Staring down at the pudgy corpse, he couldn’t find it in his heart to grieve in any way for the man. “What happened?” he wearily inquired. Arano visibly straightened and braced himself. “He was chasing Silence with a knife. She told me that he became angry, attacked her and chopped all her hair off with one of her kitchen knives.” He gestured to the foot of Needle Rock. “She was crouched down there. As he approached her with the knife held above his head, a lightning bolt
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hit the knife, traveled down through his body and scorched the ground there,” he pointed at a blackened patch near Homer’s bare feet. His shoulders moved in a light shrug and he adjusted reality to make it more palatable. “I was awake and heard the lightning crack. I came to see if anything was damaged and found her here. So I walked her home, thinking I would wake Papa.” He shot a questioning glance at Dai. “By the time I had escorted her home, I knew you were still in the village so I came back here to meet you.” Dai answered his unspoken question with one sentence. “Tyger and Llyon swore a covenant bond in the middle of the night.” “Ah.” Arano nodded soberly. “I am here to serve as a witness to the bond and enter it into the records. In any case, it was storming too badly to go down to my retreat.” Dai nudged Homer’s arm. “I suggest we drag this carrion up to the top of Needle Rock. Since the valley has spoken so clearly, I suspect it will also dispose of him too.” Arano nodded again in silent agreement. “I brought an old sheet as that was my assessment, also. Time grows short if we are to move him before the villagers start stirring.” Dai helped him roll Homer onto the sheet and then they dragged him up the trail to the peak of Needle Rock where they dumped him in the center of the flat summit. “I can’t truthfully say that I’m sorry about this man’s death.” Arano carefully considered his next words before informing his grieving jloni, “He was beating her, Dai. He was not a worthy man. Do not feel guilty because of the feelings in your heart. His death was just.” Slow tears rolled down old healer’s face. “You know this for truth?” “I do. She bears his marks on her back. Wrenna has gone to care for her.” Arano stared out at the heavy silver rain. “I had thought to send Llyon but I couldn’t find him. I didn’t know that he would not be available but now I don’t think she will want a man touching her.” He turned and met Dai’s eyes. “I believe that they were never truly bonded. Homer never changed, Dai. Not even after all the years he was here. No fangs, no blue skin, no pointed ears. I was curious and asked around but I could find no one who claimed to be his semtorn and no one who witnessed their oath-binding. When I questioned Silence about it, she seemed not to understand what I was asking. She said she bit him because he told her to. And Dai, if you look closely, neither of them actually have scars on their palms. Nor did she seem to understand why he was so angry but I believe he went insane because he couldn’t get erect. Without the enzyme, that would happen not long after entering the valley.” Staring down at the body sprawled on the ground, Dai shook his head slowly. “You might be correct. My daughter left me before she had the required bonding classes. I will go to Silence and try to make amends.” He leaned down and checked both of Homer’s hands. “You are right. No scars. Thank you for your gentle care and concern, Arano. Now let us go down from here so that the valley may finish its work.”
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As they trudged down the trail, a flash of light lit up the village and Needle Rock trembled. They hesitated briefly and then continued down as Dai observed, “It is done.”
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Chapter Four Sitting on her front porch with her bare feet swinging above the ground, Silence clasped her hands together in her lap and shuddered. Papa said it was time to think about what she should do now that Homer was dead. Mentally, she shied away from the scene beneath the judgment seat and then shook her head in denial. No, she must not hide anymore. Homer was gone and she would have to think for herself. What was she going to do? How would she live? Homer had always said they were too poor to afford any more than the bare necessities. Think, Silence! What can you do to earn barter credits? Arano stood at the edge of her yard and called, “Silence! May I come closer?” With a delighted smile, Silence clapped her hands. “Arano, you can help me. Please come here,” she patted the porch next to her. When he was sitting beside her, he waited for her to speak. It took a while but he had infinite patience for her and eventually she observed with heartbreaking simplicity, “Something is wrong inside my head. I think Homer broke something when he hit me.” With iron calm, Arano agreed, “It’s possible. What did he hit you with? And when? Do you remember?” There was another long period without conversation but Arano could see that her brow was wrinkled in concentration so he gave her the time she needed, though everything in him rose up in useless anger against a dead man. Finally, she said tentatively, “I think he hit me with a stick?” She nibbled her lower lip and then continued, “It was a long time ago. I think.” “All right. What would you like me to help you with?” Silence frowned. “Homer said we are poor. How can I get food if I have no barter credits?” Pursing his lips in thought, Arano looked down at the ground and considered how he should advise her. Then he smiled as he realized that this was one thing he could do for her without anyone thinking anything about it. “Silence, put on your sandals. We are going to the village.” “I don’t have any sandals,” she replied in puzzlement. “Why do I have to put on sandals to go to Lost Market?” “No sandals,” he repeated softly. “Why?” “Homer said I didn’t need them.” Arano had a notion that he was going to get exceedingly tired of sentences that began “Homer said.” With a deep sigh, he hopped down from the porch, turned and
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lifted Silence down before she could object and took her hand. “Come on. We need to go see Noah, the barter keeper. He’ll know exactly how many credits you have.” “Me? I don’t have any,” she protested. “Whatever Homer had when he died is yours now. So let us go see what he had,” Arano explained patiently. “Then, we will go to my house to get enough leather for me to make you a pair of sandals.” “You! You know how to make sandals?” she demanded in astonishment. “Almost everyone knows how to make sandals,” he replied calmly. “I have exactly the right kind of leather to make you a pair of sandals. And I want you to wear them every time you go outside,” he said sternly. “Every time.” Her head immediately bobbed in agreement and he sighed deep inside, conceding that it was going to take a long time for her to develop any autonomy at all. In the beginning he supposed this wouldn’t be a bad thing because clearly she was going to need supervision as she worked on developing a little independence. But eventually she was going to have to learn to stand up for herself. As they made their way down the path to the village, he was torn between pride and being totally pissed off. He watched her zig and zag from side to side avoiding the rocks and debris on the path and he was proud that she’d obviously figured out how to reach the village with the least amount of damage. But it enraged him that Homer had withheld something so basic as a pair of shoes. When they reached the village, Arano led her to the small pink dome where Noah Jones kept the barter books and village records. She balked at entering the dome, uttering the familiar phrase, “Homer said…” and Arano lost it. Clenching his teeth, Arano said with terrifying patience, “Silence, please do me this great favor. Do not ever mention Homer or anything he said to you again. Homer lied.” Silence’s deep blue eyes filled with tears that threatened to overflow and her bottom lip quivered. “All right, Arano.” Squeezing his eyes shut, Arano beseeched all the gods of the ancients to give him an extra measure of understanding. “Silence, dearheart, I’m not angry with you. I am angry with Homer and do not wish to hear his name,” he explained gently. “Now, whatever he said no longer matters because he is not here. Come inside so that Noah can explain everything to you. You don’t need to be afraid because I will stay with you.” She nodded reluctantly and went up the shallow steps with him, though he could feel her trembling with fear. Inside, he settled her in a chair next to Noah’s desk and stood behind her with both hands resting lightly on her shoulders. “I have brought Silence to you, Noah, so you may explain to her about what credits she has available.” “Is this your wish, Silence?” Noah asked quietly. Timidly, without looking at him, Silence nodded. Noah smacked his palm on the desk and stood up. Silence jumped and cringed back against Arano. Noah’s eyes met Arano’s and he quirked an eyebrow in query. When Arano nodded, Noah’s expression
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grew grim. He retrieved the correct barter book, came back to the desk and found the most recent entries for Homer Brown. Running an ink-stained finger down the page, he found the final tally and said, “Twenty-eight thousand, seven hundred and fifty two credits.” Silence strained to comprehend how much that was. Finally, she licked her lips and asked, “Is that enough to buy some bread and meat?” In the frozen silence, she decided that it must not be, especially after she sneaked a glance at Noah’s stony face. “Uh, never mind. Maybe I can make some bread.” Noah took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. “You will need a trustee, of course, but I will notify all of the craftsmen in the village that you may have whatever you need. Arano, if you will wait a moment, I’ll write out a letter for you.” “That would be fine, Noah. You will speak to my father and Dai about a trustee?” “I will. Immediately.” Noah dipped the pen in his tiny ink bottle, carefully drew the appropriate glyphs and blew on the linual sheet. When it was dry, he handed it to Arano. “There will be no problems, Silence. Just ask for whatever you want.” Noah picked up the book and carried it back to the empty place on the shelf while Arano helped Silence to her feet and led her from the building. Outside, she stopped on the path and stared at him in bafflement. “I don’t understand. How can I ask for bread if I have no credits?” Arano took her by the hand as they walked to Eron Burns butcher shop. “You have enough credits to get whatever you need. This sheet of linual tells the craftsmen that you have enough to pay. They will send the bill to Noah.” “Truly?” “Truly. We will go to Eron first and give him your meat order. Then we will ask his wife, Rosa about vegetables and fruit for you. After that, we will go to my house so that I can measure you for the sandals. And when we’re finished, we will stop for bread.” They reached the butcher shop and after a brief tug of war, Silence acquiesced and went inside. Their visit to the butcher established a pattern that was repeated at each shop. Silence would hesitate to enter. Arturo would tug her inside. The shop owner would read the linual sheet and enter a careful note in his own book, before asking Silence what she needed. Silence would fall into a paralyzed pool of indecision. Arano would quietly suggest that the shopkeeper make up a package for one person for an eight-day and the shopkeeper would nod gravely and rush off to do so. Silence would start to voice objections, look at Arano’s stony face and say nothing. When the shopkeeper presented Silence with her package, she would thank them, lips trembling and near tears, and place her package in the basket Arano had bought and presented her with when they visited the tinker shop. Between shops, Arano would reiterate that there were more than enough credits for her to have whatever she wished. Silence would brush glittering teardrops from her lashes, nod and try to smile. It was a sequence of events repeated at each stop. By the
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time they were finished with the shopping and making their way to Arano’s home domes, both of them were exhausted. Arano led her inside into the kitchen where Wolfe and Wrenna were preparing lunch. He seated her at the table and deposited the basket in the corner. “What kind of tea do you like, Silence?” he asked with a small smile. This is where he wanted to see Silence, in the midst of his family where no one would think of being cruel to her. “Apple?” It was the first opinion she’d ventured since their walk to the village, so though it was tentative, he accepted it as positive and prepared her tea. Wolfe diced up thin hopper slices and a mix of vegetables and tossed them in a heavy oiled skillet. Wrenna raked a three-tined fork across the cooked half of a spaghetti squash, freeing the golden strands before piling them on a cool blue platter. Just as she finished, Wolfe poured a small bowl of seasonings in the pan, stirred briskly for a few minutes until it thickened with a savory sauce and turned it out over the squash. Setting it on the table, he waved at Silence. “Lunch is served.” Arano merely shook his head and went to fetch the plates and utensils while Wrenna sliced several pieces of bread from the fresh loaf of sunflower bread. When all was ready, they sat down at the table with Silence, who stared at them with appalled fascination. Surely, they didn’t expect her and Wrenna to eat with them? Wrenna helped herself and passed the platter to Arano, who served Silence and then himself. He picked up her fork and placed it in her hand. “Eat.” Silence just stared at him with all the attention of a charmed snake. Arano sighed softly. “In this house, everyone eats together. Men, women and children. When we have babies, even the babies eat with us. Now, please eat, Silence. Do this thing for me, okay?” Silence wasn’t sure she could force anything down her throat but for Arano’s sake, she would try. Wolfe, Wrenna and Arano studiously ignored her, carrying on a quiet conversation about their sister Eppie and her new bond mate, Dancer. “I wonder if she’s pregnant yet,” Wolfe speculated. “Surely with that bond-storm she’s in schalzina.” Arano nodded slowly. “She will get pregnant before they complete their seclusion. As will many others. There will be a lot of babies born in the valley after midwinter. The healers will be very busy.” “Visions?” Wrenna teased. “Some,” he admitted cautiously. Wolfe grunted and asked, “What do you suppose Dancer will do here in the valley? Papa said he was some kind of musician out-valley. Do you suppose they get barter credits for playing instruments out there?” Arano finished clearing his plate and pushed it away. “If what I saw is true, then he was paid many, many barter credits,” he said seriously. “I saw a huge arena with more people than there are in the entire valley all seated in a great circle around him. It was
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quiet as a deep hidden pool and when he began to play, the hush was as though everyone held their breath. I believe that out-valley, Dancer is considered a great man.” There was quiet while they pondered Arano’s words. Then Silence asked timidly, “How do you know she will have a baby?” He smiled gently. “Because I have seen Dancer rocking the babe in the night.” “Oh.” She frowned, concentrating on his answer until he feared she would get a headache. “Silence, don’t try so hard. Give it time. Remember what we talked about?” She nodded. “So, everything is not learned in one day. Are you ready for me to measure your feet?” She stood up at once, food forgotten. “Are you finished?” Wrenna asked in puzzlement. “Don’t you want any more to eat?” Silence’s lip began to tremble and Wrenna’s eyes widened in distress. Arano stepped into the breach. “Silence will no doubt eat something when she goes home. In the meantime, I need to measure her feet so that I can make her a pair of sandals. If Arturo asks for me, I will be back in a little while.” Taking up her shopping basket, he led her out of the room, back toward his leather shop. Measuring her was the work of a few moments. Then he walked her back home. When he’d deposited her basket on the table, he leaned down and kissed her gently on her soft lips. Her eyes closed and she stood motionless until he lifted his mouth from hers. “Why did you do that?” she asked curiously. “Did you like it?” he countered. She slowly licked her lips and nodded. “I kissed you because I wanted to. I love you, Silence. One day, you will be my bond mate.” Instantly, she stepped back and bowed her head. “I cannot,” she said flatly, all animation gone from her face. “Why not?” he questioned, careful to not scare her. “I am barren, Arano. Homer said—” “I believe that we agreed that Homer lied,” he interrupted coolly. “There is some other reason?” “I am a widow,” she answered sadly. Arano walked over to the window and looked out, giving himself time to choose the right words. Finally, he said, “I think I might have a solution for us but it is not yet time. I want you to have time to be comfortable with me because I know what your life was like with him. Will you trust me in this? Trust me to take care of you?” Hesitantly, she nodded. “Then come and kiss me goodbye. We will need to practice kissing a lot,” he decided. “Kissing a lot,” she repeated carefully before tilting her head back. “All right.”
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He kissed her chastely on the lips and left before he took more than she was ready to give.
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Chapter Five Two mornings later, Arano walked out to Silence’s house to deliver her sandals. No one had seen her since their visit to the village and he was anxious to check on her. It was quiet outside the blue dome, almost too quiet. He knocked on the door and was stunned when she answered it stark naked. He didn’t make the error of believing she was being purposely provocative. Something else was going on here. “Good morning, Silence,” he said calmly, after he gave himself a moment to regroup. “I brought your sandals. May I come in?” She stepped back, allowing him to enter. He shut the door behind him and walked down the short hall to the kitchen with Silence treading behind him. “Dearheart, where are your clothes?” “Homer said—” she broke off and stared at him in frozen silence. “What did Homer say?” he asked gently, knowing that the information was important. “Homer said no clothes allowed in the house,” she muttered so low he barely caught it. “Ah? Interesting idea. Did Homer wear clothing inside the house?” he asked with just a touch of humor in his voice. “No-o,” she replied, twisting her hands together anxiously. “Hmm-mm.” He looked around, spied the kettle on the counter and moved over to fill it with water. Setting it on the stove, he started it heating for tea. “So, it seems to me that one of us is overdressed. If you don’t have clothes on, then neither should I. What do you think?” Silence’s brow wrinkled in thought for a moment before she nodded. “All right.” He gestured for her to come closer. “My hands are damp. Do you mind unfastening my sharda?” He wondered if she would. Suddenly, it seemed to him that this unlooked for opportunity might provide the very thing he needed to get her used to him in a nonthreatening way. Without hesitation, she came close enough to unfasten his sharda and remove it. Folding it carefully, she turned to drape it over a chair. “Thank you dearheart,” he said as though she undressed him every day. “While the tea water is heating up, will you show me where Homer’s belongings are? I’m very curious about what he might have brought to the valley.” Immediately, she led him to the bedroom where he stood in the doorway for a moment, surveying the spacious room. A large chest was under one round window with neatly folded clothing stacked on top. Near another window, a thin pallet was arranged on the floor. A threadbare blanket was folded and arranged at one end. There
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was no pillow. Two braided rugs covered the floor on either side of the huge bed positioned near the far wall. With remarkable detachment, he noted the brown speckled, disordered bedding. It didn’t take much detecting to realize that Silence had never slept in that bed. Nor would he be surprised at all to discover that the brown speckles were her blood from the whipping Homer administered the night he died. With sudden determination, Arano decided that this room would be a haven for Silence before he went home. “Dearheart, where do you keep your spare bedding?” he inquired, though he was nearly positive she didn’t have any. The frown that was growing way too familiar crossed her face. “Spare bedding?” she asked uncertainly, twisting her hands in increasing agitation. “Never mind. I will take care of it,” he told her in a soothing tone. “In the mean time, we will take all of this old stuff out of here so that we can start fresh. Do you have a laundry basket?” At once, she went to fetch it, happy that she could produce something he had asked for. While she was gone, he ruthlessly stripped the bedding off down to the mattress. When he saw the filthy state of the mattress, he rolled it up and looked around for something to secure it. Silence reappeared with a battered, misshapen basket and stood in the doorway in shock. “Arano, what are you doing?” “Getting rid of this filthy bedding.” His grim tone brooked no interference. “Do you have some string or something I can tie this up with?” When she didn’t answer, he turned to look at her, only to find her staring entranced at his backside with curious blue eyes. The flexing play of hard muscle and long legs fascinated Silence. Pale blue skin, damp with a fine sheen of sweat, was taut and smooth. For the first time, it occurred to her that he was a fine specimen of a warrior. She wondered what his dark hair would look like when it wasn’t confined in the small warrior braids. When he turned, revealing a broad muscled chest, flat belly and pulsing, lengthening cock, her mouth dropped open in amazement and she let out a little squeak. Abruptly, she realized she was staring at his kzusha and her eyes flew to his face to see if he’d noticed. A small smile tugged at his lips and one dark eyebrow quirked over his dancing black eyes. “See something you like?” he teased gently. “It’s big!” she exclaimed, then dropped the basket and clapped both hands over her mouth. He dumped the mattress on the floor and went over to stand in front of her. Carefully, taking his time, he tugged her hands down to his cock and wrapped them around it. “Here. It’s not going to bite you,” he assured her with a gentle pat. Then he cupped her soft, plump, blue breasts with his big hands, tweaking and toying with the tight lavender nipples.
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Involuntarily, she clutched him tighter and squeaked again when his kzusha jerked in her hands and got longer. “Arano! What’s happening?” she asked with faint panic. “He likes you,” he explained far more calmly than he felt. “Just like you like him. Your nipples are hard and your breasts are flushed. These are normal things that happen, dearheart. I imagine if I touched your pussy, you would be damp.” “What?” She jerked her hands away and backed up. Reluctantly, he lifted his hands away and turned back to the mattress. “That is the way things are supposed to be. But we don’t have any more time to play now. Can you find me something to tie this mattress up with so that I can take it to the tinkers shop? Ham should be able to use some of the materials in it.” Without a word, she fled down the hall. In a short while, she sidled back into the room, thrust a tangle of string into his hands and went back to the kitchen. Arano shrugged. Things had gone better than he had expected. She needed some time to process what had happened. When the mattress was tied in a tight roll and the bedding was dumped in the pitiful excuse for a basket, he stalked over and flipped through the stack of clothing on the chest. Every single item was Homer’s. Arano sighed and cursed beneath his breath. Damn Homer! “Silence? Dearheart? Can you please come here for a moment?” She appeared in the doorway, hands twisted together, moving from one bare dusty foot to the other. Her short blonde curls were tousled and in disarray. He gestured toward the chest. “Where do you keep your clothes, dearheart?” Silently, she disappeared, reappearing in a moment with the same ugly dark green meerlim she’d worn the last few times he’d seen her. Grabbing his temper with both hands, he took a deep breath and inquired, “Where are your other clothes, dearheart?” That frown of puzzlement he was growing to dread crossed her face. “This is what I have, Arano. He said…” she stopped dead. “I see.” He chewed on his lip, furiously thinking. “What’s in the chest?” Silence brightened at once. “That’s Homer’s stuff. He said never to open that or touch it. I don’t ever, ever touch that.” She nodded her ruffled head in proud confirmation. “Never, never.” “Give me your meerlim.” He held out his hand and waited patiently while she decided what to do. Finally, clearly reluctant to surrender her one piece of clothing, she placed it in his hand. He reached down and slipped his flicknife from the sheath just below his knee. Turning and twisting the garment in his hands, he found the seams for the sleeves and neatly sliced them open, removing the sleeves entirely. Then he handed the meerlim back to Silence and said, “Put it on, dearheart. We have more shopping to do.” He moved past her and went to the kitchen to retrieve his sharda. By the time he was dressed, she wandered back into the kitchen, plucking at the shoulder seams as though she would be able to pull them down far enough to cover her arms. “Arano, I can’t wear this to the village,” she protested. “It doesn’t cover me.” 41
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“Dearheart, you look lovely. I like to see your pretty arms. Put on your sandals so we can go.” Silence sat down and slipped on the sandals but stopped in puzzlement when she tried to figure out the ties. Arano brushed her hands aside and laced them around her ankles, taking time to show her how the laces worked. When they were securely fastened, he helped her to her feet and watched her walk back and forth, trying them out. She wiggled her toes and arched first one foot, then the others. “They’re pretty,” she said tentatively. “Thank you, Arano.” He stared at the incredibly plain shoes, basically a sturdy flat sole of leather with a plain wide strip of leather across the toes. Though serviceable, there was nothing attractive about them. In that instant, he resolved to make her a pretty pair of sandals to wear to the Midsummer Gathering. He walked over to the stove and made sure the fire was off. Tea would have to wait. “Get your shopping basket, Silence. We have much to do today.” She trotted into the pantry and retrieved the basket which he took from her without a word. Then taking her hand, he led her out of the house and down the path toward the village. Their first stop in the village was at the Jones’ pale green dome. Jailyn, Noah’s wife was the village seamstress. Arano knocked on the door and politely waited for Jailyn to answer. When she poked her gray head out the door, Arano explained their mission and she invited them in immediately. Silence did not want to go inside but Arano firmly explained that she needed to buy new clothes. “I cannot like that meerlim,” he said apologetically. “It reminds me of Homer.” That was all he had to say. Silence trotted up the steps and whisked inside without another objection. The following exchanges amused Jailyn no end and gave her much food for thought but she was a woman known for keeping her own counsel and her tongue between her teeth, so Arano dealt with Silence with no qualms. “That’s too light,” Silence objected when Arano picked out a lovely bundle of silky rose fabric. “It will go well with your hair,” Arano pointed out mildly. Silence pouted mulishly and he pursed his lips. “I suppose that Homer would not like it,” he admitted finally. She grabbed it at once and plopped it down on the measuring table. “I will have this.” Jailyn hid her smile and nodded solemnly. “What else?” Before Silence could open her mouth, Arano indicated a mellow, sunflower yellow bundle. “That one.” He pointed out a soft turquoise blue bundle. “That one.” Silence squeaked in protest and he covered her mouth with a gentle hand. “The dusky purple bundle in the corner.”
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“What style?” Jailyn inquired professionally. “Make them up like Wrenna’s meerlims,” he said decisively. “Short sleeves, knee length. And she’ll need some smocks. Cream colored.” Silence squeaked again behind his broad palm and her blue eyes widened in shock. “Do you have a suitable fabric for a light shawl?” Arano inquired with a twinkle as his eyes met Jailyn’s dancing green ones. She went behind the high fabric crammed shelves and came back with two gorgeous bundles of woven fabric, one in a deep purple and the other in forest green. Arano recognized them for Tyger’s work at once. Instinctively, he rejected the green and chose the rich purple bundle. “This one. Please make up a festival shawl,” he directed, “for Midsummer Gathering.” Happily, Jailyn nodded again. “Wonderful. Lace?” He frowned in thought before shaking his head. “No…embroidery. If you don’t have time, I will see if Robyn can do it.” “No, no. I have plenty of time,” Jailyn assured him. “Do you want to pick the colors? Or will you trust me?” she asked as she carefully refolded the fabric. “You have wonderful taste. Surprise us.” Silence inhaled sharply and he was afraid she was going to explode. “Silence, dearheart, you know how upset Homer would be if you had pretty things,” he whispered in her ear. “She’ll need a cap,” Jailyn prodded, urged on by some inner imp. “Maybe two. One for the Gathering and one for everyday.” “Naturally,” Arano agreed while subduing Silence’s wriggles by the simple expedient of pressing her back against his chest. When she felt his hard cock rubbing against her ass, she stilled instantly. “Silence, I’ll need to measure you. Will you come back to my fitting room?” Arano gave her a little nudge and she followed Jailyn to the small room behind the storage shelves. He sat down on one of the chairs next to the door and mentally compiled a list of items for the bedroom and bathing room while he waited. In the fitting room, Jailyn was hard pressed not to utter every curse word she knew and then make up a few. It had taken some patient urging to get Silence to remove her meerlim so she could take accurate measurements. When she saw the scars and bruises from Homer’s whippings, it took everything within her to keep her mouth shut. In an effort to keep her temper under control, she asked Silence how it came about that Arano was escorting her around the village. Silence was quiet so long that Jailyn thought she wasn’t going to answer. Finally, she asked, “Jailyn? Can I ask you something?” “Sure. Ask me anything.” “Arano’s kzusha got big. Does that happen to other men?”
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Jailyn nearly swallowed her writing stick. After frantically cudgeling her brain for an appropriate answer, she asked, “What was Arano doing when it got big?” “Kissing me.” Clearly, Silence was puzzled by the cause and effect. “Oh, well, if he was kissing you, then that explains it,” Jailyn replied offhandedly. “Almost all men’s kzusha’s get big if they’re kissing a pretty woman.” And that certainly explained a few things, thought Jailyn. Out of the blue, Silence confided, “Arano says he wants to be my bond mate. Can he do that?” “Well,” Jailyn said cautiously, “Arano is a Master Seer. Maybe he had a vision about it. I wouldn’t talk about it to anyone but me, though. Someone else might not understand.” “All right.” Silence was sober and quiet while Jailyn finished measuring her. “When Jailyn handed her the old meerlim she dressed and waited as Jailyn finished making notes on the linual. Jailyn led her out to the main room where Arano was waiting. “All done. The first of the meerlims will be finished day after tomorrow, if you’d like to come by then.” Arano bounced to his feet. “Wonderful! Thank you, Jailyn. We appreciate your help.” “Stop in tomorrow, Arano and I’ll show you what I have in mind.” The expression in Jailyn’s eyes was clear and steely. Readily, he nodded agreement, thinking that he certainly needed at least one ally in the village if he was going to pull off the oathbinding with Silence. He could do a lot worse than Jailyn and Noah. He guided Silence down the steps and held her hand as they walked around the garden to the Miller’s yellow dome. Once again, he knocked and they waited patiently for Carol, the household seamstress to answer. Carol produced most of the finished bed sheets, quilts and bathing-sheets for the village. When she saw who was waiting, she invited them in immediately. Arano explained their errand, adding that Silence also needed three feather mattresses. Carol pursed her lips in thought and then took down a fresh sheet of linual. “I can deliver two mattresses today but the third one won’t be ready until next eightday,” she explained. “Wonderful,” Arano said promptly. “She will need at least two sets of sheets, two quilts and four pillows. Nothing white.” He waited as Carol scratched the order on the linual. “Four bathing sheets of each size. Mixed colors.” Carol nodded as she scratched some more. “And three window covers with hoops. Cream colored.” “What size hoops?” Carol asked without raising her head. “Twenty,” Silence answered softly. “Can I have purple pillows?” Carol looked up and saw the shining plea in Silence’s eyes. “Absolutely,” she replied, determined that Silence would have her purple pillows if she had to dye them personally. “What else would you like, Silence?”
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“A doll,” Silence said with undisguised longing as she gazed at Carol’s collection of dolls she kept for the village’s young girls. “Pick out the one you want, dearheart.” Arano nudged her toward the display and knuckled away sudden tears when her back was turned. Carol stood up and went to help Silence lift down a small doll, dressed in pink with a blanket embroidered with roses. She placed it in Silence’s arms and with tears in her own eyes watched Silence rock it as she hummed. Without a word, Arano draped an arm over her shoulder and smiled. “You picked out a lovely doll. Do you want anything else?” Silence shook her head. “No, thank you.” Carol made a couple of notes on the linual and shooed them out the door. “Mikel and John will deliver your order later this afternoon. After lunch.” “Thank you, Carol.” Arano took Silence’s hand as they walked across the green. She clutched the doll close to her in her other arm. “Do you like babies, Silence?” “Yes,” she replied simply. “But Homer said I was too stupid to have a baby.” “Did he? And what have we said about Homer?” Silence stopped dead and stared at Arano with such hope in her eyes that he wanted to howl. “Does that mean I could have a baby for my very own, Arano? Really?” “We will work on that,” he promised. “Not for a little while but pretty soon.”
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Chapter Six Arano’s visit to Jailyn was interesting to say the least. When he arrived, she took him to her kitchen for tea and then proceeded to grill him on his intentions. By the time she finished, he was feeling limper than last eight-day’s peppers. “Well,” she finally conceded, “I think you’ll be good for each other. Are you sure you know what you’re getting into? Silence will never be a match for your intelligence.” “I know. But she’s the only one who accepts me for who I am. The visions don’t scare her. Actually, it surprises me, but I don’t think she’s scared of my sexual feelings either.” He frowned. “She’s curious. A little hesitant. But not afraid.” “How are you going to pull off an oath-binding if she’s a widow?” Jailyn demanded with rampant curiosity. “I think…she’s untouched.” Tentatively, he shared his speculations. “I don’t think Homer was able to perform with her, hence the whipping. I think the valley rejected the oath-binding—if they ever went to a binding circle in the first place. Old Cowal Winter was nearly blind when he entered the binding in the book. I suspect that Homer falsified the entire event because he didn’t understand the full significance of the various components.” Arano shrugged. “If he wasn’t in the binding circle when Silence bit him, the valley wouldn’t accept her as semtorn. No binding. But when I talked to her about the oath-binding, she had no idea what I was talking about.” “Maybe she doesn’t remember?” Jailyn ventured. “There is some obvious damage there, Arano.” “I know. What is worse is she knows.” “Silence knows?” “Uh-hmm. She told me that something was broken in her head.” He starred down at his mug of tea. “It broke my heart. But I will confirm my suspicions before I take her to the circle. I will not allow her to be hurt again. And if she is untouched, as I suspect, then nothing will stop us from bonding.” Jailyn sighed. “All right, son. What can I do to help?” “Get her clothes ready. The only thing she owns is the meerlim she wore yesterday. And may I add a couple of things to that order?” “What do you want?” she inquired with a quirk of her brow. “Two or three house shifts,” he said dryly. “Yesterday when I got there, she answered the door butt naked and let me come in.” He nodded when Jailyn’s jaw dropped in shock. “Exactly. Homer never allowed her to wear clothing in the house. I know she wouldn’t understand how her nudity might be construed. What if someone else decided to pay her a visit?” 46
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“I’ll have one ready tomorrow.” Jailyn’s abrupt statement confirmed the wisdom of Arano’s decision to confide in her. He stood and stretched. “I’m tired but I need to go check on her. Yesterday we cleaned the bedroom, threw out everything that would remind her of Homer and bought new bedding. When I left late in the afternoon, she was sprawled out on the bed humming. I’m curious to see if she actually slept in the bed.” “You’re curious to see if she’ll let you get your hands on her,” Jailyn said tartly. “If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I would bring charges before the council against you.” He hunched his shoulders and shielded his face. “Peace, Jailyn.” With a snort, she shooed him out of the kitchen. “Get out, you imp. Go check on your woman.” Before he walked out to Silence’s house he stopped at the bakery and picked up two honey cakes. Then with them carefully wrapped in a small basket, he sauntered down the wide path to the Brown house. Above him, scampering through the trees, Arturo’s second-year warrior class kept an eye on him as part of their afternoon assignment. Darting from tree to tree, they followed him until he turned into the Brown yard, where they were dismayed to find the tree line stopped. He stood directly in the doorway, shielding the inside from his young watchers. Since Homer had died Silence had taken to jerking the door wide open without a qualm. As he anticipated, in her excitement to see him Silence flung open the door without a stitch on. When he dangled the honey cakes over her head she turned around and he gently nudged her further back into the hall until he could ease the door shut. They went into the kitchen where he filled the kettle and set it on the stove. Poking around in her cabinet, he found two small plates and served the honey cakes. Silence stood next to the table with both hands clamped over her mouth. He slid a glance in her direction. “Silence, my hands are all sticky. Can you please remove my sharda?” Immediately, she jumped to his assistance, unfastening the sharda and carefully folding it before she draped it over a chair. In the hours since the last time she’d undressed him, she had spent considerable time in thought about Arano stalking around her dome naked. She was not so naïve that she didn’t understand that there would be hell to pay if anyone caught them. And she vaguely understood the implications of their age difference but Arano had said they would be bonded someday. And he had promised that they would have a baby. So today she willingly undressed him for one simple reason. She liked looking at him naked. His kzusha fascinated her whether it was soft or hard. “Sit down, dearheart. The tea will be ready in just a moment.” Silence took down two mugs, got out utensils and two linen napkins and finished setting the table before she perched on the edge of a chair. He noted how she was poised to flee and went over to urge her to sit back in the chair. “Relax. We’re just going to have a nice little dessert.”
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Her tongue peeked out and slicked across her plump lips and at first Arano thought she was anticipating the honey cakes. But then, almost in slow motion, she reached out and touched his cock. “Arano, do you like to have your kzusha sucked?” she asked curiously. “I’m sure I would love that, dearheart, but perhaps we could eat first?” he asked with a slight hitch in his breath as she gently stroked him, fascinated with the way he stretched and got harder in her hand. She leaned over and brushed her lips over the flushed head, nuzzling and nibbling around the crown. With a soft murmur, she took the broad, plum-shaped head into her warm mouth and suckled, enjoying the shape and velvety texture of his cock and how snugly it filled her mouth. Arano groaned and slid one hand into her curls. His knees weakened and he firmly locked them so he wouldn’t slither onto the floor in a pool of lust. “Silence? Dearheart, uh, the water is boiling…” his voice broke on a moan. With a last flickering taste, she released him and raised her head. “You taste good,” she said with devastating simplicity. “Can I suck you some more after we have tea?” He ruffled her short, silky curls and took in a deep breath. “You can do whatever you want. But I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to, Silence.” Pulling away, he went to lift the boiling kettle and fill the mugs. “Do you think I could have a turn playing with you?” he asked as he set her mug in front of her. “You?” Clearly, the idea had never occurred to her before. Her expression was a study in appalled fascination. “Me. I would like to touch you just like you touched me. That is the way things are done.” She tilted her head and thoughtfully stared at her tea as she considered his calm assertion. Hesitantly, she slid him a speculative sideways glance before observing, “Homer said I was icky. What is icky, Arano?” Calling on every bit of self control he possessed, he calmly reminded her, “First of all, what do we know about Homer?” “Homer lied,” she parroted obediently. “Secondly, icky is an out-valley word meaning distasteful or undesirable. Since Homer was a nasty, possibly insane man I believe we can safely ignore what he said.” He took a small bite of the outrageously sweet honey cake, watching her face while he chewed. He saw the distress on her face but he had made a deliberate decision never to lie to her. It seemed to him that she had been lied to enough for several lifetimes. Sadly, she slid the honey cake away from her and asked, “Am I icky?” “No.” His uncompromising tone was harsh. “I find you very tasty and desirable. After you eat your honey cake, I’ll show you exactly how tasty,” he promised in a deep voice.
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Her eyes flew to his face and for the first time, he allowed her to see exactly how much he wanted her. Startled, she inhaled while trying to swallow and choked, gagging and coughing. At once he was out of his chair. Her eyes watered and she gasped. She took a small sip of tea, coughed took another sip and blinked the tears from her eyes. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her into the bathing room and set her down on the closed toilet. He located a washcloth, dampened it and wiped her tear streaked face. “You’re not supposed to choke to death just because I want to make love to you,” he teased gently. She giggled nervously and refused to look him in the eye. He slipped one finger under her chin and tilted her head until her eyes met his. “If at any time in any place I do anything that you don’t like, all you have to do is say “stop”. It’s that simple. Now since we don’t seem to be really interested in honey cakes and tea, why don’t we go stretch out on those brand new excellent mattresses and play?” “Wh-what will we do?” she asked nervously. “Hmm. Well, why don’t we take turns? You had a turn so it’s my turn now.” “O-oh.” Her eyes were huge and afraid, so he lay down next to her on the bed and simply kissed her. He kissed her face. He kissed her neck and ears and shoulders. He nibbled on the smooth slopes of her breasts and tongued her tight nipples. Then when she was starting to respond and arch against him, he stopped and stretched out on his back next to her. “Your turn now.” “What should I do?” She rolled to her side and looked at him in puzzlement. He closed his eyes, shrugged and replied, “Whatever you want to.” “What if you don’t like it?” Smiling, he opened his eyes and looked at that ever familiar frown wrinkling her forehead. With one finger he gently rubbed at the wrinkles until she started smiling too. “I’ll tell you. But Silence, I can’t imagine anything you would do that I wouldn’t like. I love it when you touch me.” Since she liked the things he’d done to her, she thought he might like it if she returned the favor. Very slowly, she moved close enough to kiss his forehead. He smiled. So then she kissed his ears. When he moaned, she moved back in alarm until she noticed his kzusha proudly standing tall. Kissing him from one side was awkward so she moved until she was straddling his waist. When she sank down on his flat belly, she noticed his kzusha brushed against the curve of her butt. She wriggled around a bit, absorbed in the delicious feelings she felt when she rubbed her pussy on his belly. Arano closed his eyes and prayed for the strength to let her enjoy the discovery of her sexuality on her own. The touch of her damp pussy was enough to drive him crazy and the soft brush of her ass against his aching cock was incredible. Very slowly, he trailed his big hands from the lush curve of her hips into the narrow bow of her waist.
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With his thumbs he teased her belly button before sliding his hands up until they fit around her rib cage just under the subtle weight of her breasts. When she didn’t object, he stretched his thumbs up to rub over the tight tips of her nipples. Smiling, she closed her eyes and rocked, grinding her pussy petals against the rock-hard ridge of muscle. Arano plucked lightly at her nipples. When she tilted forward in search of more, she noticed one place at the top of her pussy had the most delicious feelings. She braced her hands on his broad shoulders and rocked and bounced harder, frustrated because she couldn’t quite reach that feeling she was straining toward. “Dearheart, hold still a moment.” She froze instantly as fear washed over her. “No, no, baby. I’m just going to fix things so it’ll be better for you. Lift your ass up, honey.” After a long, long moment, she hiked her ass up and he slipped his cock between his belly and her pussy. “Sit down,” he instructed, fighting to keep his voice calm and neutral. She was startled at the intense feeling as her slippery swollen pussy petals spread around the hot length of his rigid cock. Their mingled scents filled the air as more of her cream trickled out and spread the length of his cock with her movements. Tentatively, she rocked forward and he hissed. “Don’t stop, baby. That feels so good,” he panted. “Lean down just a little so I can suck your pretty nipples.” When she leaned down and slid forward, her clit rubbed against the ridged crown of his cock. Shocking fiery sensations shot up her spine and her pussy leaked more slick cream. The irresistible urge to repeat the movements captured her and she slid back and forth on his cock, panting and moaning as each pass pushed her higher and higher. Arano hung on for dear life, nibbling and suckling her tight little nipples, determined that she would experience all the glory of climax that he could provide until their bonding day. Abruptly, Silence cried out and collapsed on his chest. He was stunned when he realized that she had called out his name. Arano. He felt the subtle clutching of her pussy around his cock and could no longer delay his own release. Hot pulsing jets of semen shot from the tip of his cock, wetting his chest and her breasts. Together they lay wrapped in each other’s arms, panting and out of breath. Eventually, she sighed and sat up. “I liked that,” she declared with a happy grin. It occurred to him that he had never really seen her smile. “I liked it too,” he admitted, hard-pressed not to grab her and fuck her until she screamed for mercy. Soon, he thought. Soon. “Can we do it again?” Silence demanded eagerly, interrupting his private dreams. “Hmm. Not today, dearheart.” “Tomorrow?”
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He choked and temporized, “Maybe. We’ll see what happens tomorrow. In the meantime, I think we need a bath.” Amused, he wondered if he’d created a monster now that Silence had experienced an orgasm for the first time. He almost laughed out loud when he thought of what Silence might confide to Jailyn the next time she saw her.
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Chapter Seven Life in the valley reverted to its normal sleepy rhythms. There were a few changes after Dancer and Eppie’s tremendous bonding storm. Schalzina, the preparation bonded valley women entered when their bodies were ready for pregnancy had been triggered, broadcast across the valley. As a result, an astonishing number of women were pregnant, including Jade and Eppie. Dai merely shook his head and made plans to take care of the younger children while Jade and Merlyn were occupied with the early stages of pregnancy. As a covenant mate, there was nothing he was permitted to do sexually to aid them but with the four youngest children in need of supervision, he could contribute that way. Dancer and Eppie remained in seclusion at their bonding cottage. Tyger and Llyon, after finally swearing a covenant bond in the midst of the storm, were still sequestered at the isolated Lake House near Shadow Lake. Merlyn and Jade walked down to Dai’s Retreat for a much-needed break from the chaos and clatter of fourteen children. Plans for the annual Midsummer Gathering had to go forward, whether certain members of the Llewellyn family were available or not. Arturo and Arano of necessity shouldered much of the burden. Arturo’s warrior classes erected the open-sided domes for the council meetings and traders gatherings. On the far side of the training field, well away from the river, they dug pits and erected latrines. In the midst of the busyness of getting ready for the Midsummer Gathering no one except Arturo seemed to notice that Arano was spending increasing amounts of time at Silence’s house. Quietly they were preparing the house for their eventual bonding. One room at a time was emptied out, scrubbed and rearranged to their satisfaction and mutual tastes. Homer’s trunk was moved from one spot to the next and finally ended up on the back porch where it was soon forgotten in the passage of time. In a gradual shift, Arano’s belongings moved to Silence’s house and found a new home. Arturo watched all of it from a distance with faint, bitter amusement. The attention of their parents was so closely trained on him that they weren’t even aware of Arano’s movements. He suspected that part of that was due to the fact that Arano “hid” from them. There were a few, very few people in the valley with the talent. Healers and seers, mostly, were able to hide their presence. Dancer had called it a “cloak of invisibility” after a device he’d seen in something called a Harry Potter. Arturo wasn’t sure what a Harry Potter was but the term for Arano’s rare talent was apt. There were a lot of days when he wished he had the talent and could hide from the family. One afternoon when Arano cautiously slipped into their room, Arturo followed him and shut the door. “How is Silence?” he asked quietly.
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“Silence is going to be the death of me if we don’t bond soon,” Arano snapped back, clearly frustrated with the wait. Abruptly he sat down on the bed. “I’m sorry, Turo. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” “Things are progressing for you like you hoped?” Arturo sat next to him. “Aye. What about you? How are the classes going? I’ve noticed my shadows are getting better,” he observed with a grin. “It irritates them no end that they can’t see into the dome,” Arturo admitted. “Since you put the hoops in all the windows, they’re bored.” “Thank you for mentioning that they were looking in at Silence.” Soberly, Arano looked around at the room that was nearly bare of his belongings. “What are we going to do, Turo? You can’t stay here after I’m gone. You’ll go mad.” “I think I’ve already gone mad. If one more of my students act like I’m going to contaminate him with my touch, I just might walk away. I have to get away from Lost Market,” Arturo burst out. “Where do you want to go?” Arano asked calmly. “Wherever it is, I’ll help you get there.” Restlessly he stood and went to the window. Staring out at the garden, he confessed, “I’ll miss you but you won’t heal any more as long as you’re here. I’m hurting you by being with Silence and there’s no one else here for you.” “No, Arano!” Turo got up and went to fling an arm across his shoulder. “Yes.” Arano rested his head on Turo’s shoulder. “I love you but you’re desperately unhappy here. Go. Find that special man waiting out there for you. Find your destiny.” Turo grabbed Arano by his braids and tilted his brother’s head back so that he could see his face. “Who?” he demanded harshly. Arano shook his head. “You know that’s not the way it works. But I promise you that he’s out there waiting and he needs you as badly as you need him. Go find him, Turo.” “After the Midsummer Gathering. Papa and Mama will go into seclusion. Dai will be busy with the younglings. And by then, Wolfe should be on his way to Rebaccah’s Promise to train with Henry.” Turo stalked over to the chest that held their weapons and took out his kroniche, setting it on the bed. “This time, when I walk away from here, I won’t go unarmed,” he said grimly. “Never again.” Arano moved to cover Turo’s hands with his own. “This time you will not walk away alone.” Snorting derisively, Turo pulled away. “And who will go with me? The younglings?” “That I cannot tell you but know this—until you meet your mate, you will not be alone. This I know. This I promise.” For very long moments they stood in the tableau, frozen in time as Arturo fought to accept Arano’s words. Finally, when Arano had almost lost his last bleak hope, Turo nodded. “All right. What will we do next?”
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“Next, we will welcome our new bond-brother. Wrenna’s man will be showing up shortly.” With a wide grin on his face, he patted Turo’s shoulder. “That will certainly keep the entire village occupied. Dancer was merely a foretaste. Traveller will bring quite a change to the valley.” “Soon?” “Before Midsummer Gathering. Be prepared, brother. When the time comes, I will bond with Silence. That will certainly take their attention away from you.” Suddenly Arano laughed. “After that, anything you want will be tame. Now come, let us go across the river and check the preparations for the Gathering.” Early the next morning, as thunder rolled across the valley Wrenna led the way to the circle five cave where her golden-haired dinti Harmony assured her that Traveller waited. Injured and unconscious, he lay stretched out in the cave, brought there by his friend Bishop. Wrenna and Harmony were accompanied by Wrenna’s parents, just returned from Dai’s Retreat, Tyger, Llyon and two healers from the village. The surprise Arano had alluded to that lurked in the cave was not Traveller. Rather, it was Bishop, Merlyn’s brother. Between Trav’s serious injuries and the completely unlooked-for reunion between the brothers, Arano’s predictions proved true. No one was interested in what Arano and Turo might or might not be doing. Once Traveller was removed from the cave, Arano collected Silence from her dome and took her to a secluded glade down past Round Hill. It was a small clearing surrounded by thicket and woods with a miniature waterfall that emptied into a clear pool. Sun filled the center warming the pool and grassy knoll next to it. Arano spread the thick quilt he’d brought while Silence located a convenient boulder nearby to hold their food basket. Without any discussion, they removed their clothing and moved into each other’s arms. As had become a habit in the past few eight-days, their cuddling and kissing changed to heated exploration of each other’s bodies. Silence had slowly changed from the shy scared and battered woman who feared her own shadow to a laughing sprite, eager to touch and be touched by her man. That was how she thought of him now. Arano. Her man. Her mate. Today, Arano thought, they would find out exactly how far she had come. Today he had brought her to the tiny private glade to find out one thing. Had Homer taken her maidenhead? Was she still untouched? Their right to bond depended on the answer. As freely as she had allowed him to touch her, she had always demurred when he got close to slipping his fingers inside her pussy. Today would determine how much trust she had developed. “Silence, love, shall we bathe in the pool? The sun will dry us off quickly when we get out,” he coaxed. She shot him a mischievous grin and toppled him into the water. By the time he floundered to his feet, she was sitting demurely in the water at the end opposite the waterfall playing with a small round mirror they’d found in a little basket
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of Homer’s belongings in the bathing room. Arano hadn’t a clue what it was but when he carefully described it to his Aunt Rebaccah, she’s identified it readily enough. Silence was fascinated by the glittery flashes of light when she tilted it so the sun hit it. “Look, Arano. Isn’t it lovely?” she exclaimed with the simple delight of a child. “Not as lovely as you,” he said firmly. He saw the glint of sorrow in her eyes before she dropped her lashes. “No, I am not lovely. If I was lovely, I would have children by now. I have nothing.” Her sigh made his chest ache. “Perhaps one day, the valley will give me a mate and children.” “Soon, Silence. I will be your bond mate and give you children. Have I not told you plainly enough?” he demanded. She faced him in sudden anger. “Cannot you understand? I am ugly and barren, Arano! Even Homer said so! He said I was too ugly to have babies. Do you not think I want it to be otherwise? He cut my hair!” Snatching the mirror from her hand, he declared, “I will show you otherwise!” Pushing her flat on the grassy bank, he held her legs apart. When she attempted to push his hand away, he held the mirror between her legs. Sliding in behind her so she could lean against his chest, he said, “Look, love. See how pretty you are here.” Running one gentle finger along the soft furrow between her legs, he whispered, “You are so beautifully made here—you’re made perfectly to hold me.” She whimpered low in her throat. Brushing the tiny nubbin up above, he gently worked the tip of one finger into her pussy and watched her shudder in arousal. “Watch!” he whispered as he slid his finger further in, definitely meeting an obstruction. “What is this, Silence?” he murmured quietly. “You are intact. How can this be?” Moaning softly, she cried out, “I told you that not even my bond mate wanted me!” Staring at her with delight at this confirmation of his vision he asked, “What of the pledging and the oath-binding?” She refused to look at him. He turned her head so that she had no choice. “Please tell me, dearheart. I explained all of it to you last eight-day. Surely after all that we have done, you trust me for this?” “There was no pledging and oath-binding!” she cried out. “Well, if you are untouched, no wonder you have no children!” he said with bubbling jubilation. “Do you know how babies are made?” When she looked at him numbly, he withdrew his fingers gently and pulled her into his arms. “No? Well, I will show you how this is done.” She shuddered in fear. “No. Now isn’t the time to be afraid. I have never hurt you. I never will,” he assured her quietly. “We learn about this in the bonding classes but Dai said you did not go to classes.” “No,” she admitted with shame. “I was angry with Papa, so when Homer asked, I ran away with him before my turn in the classes. It was a mistake.” He looked down at her fiercely. “If Homer was alive now, I would kill him!”
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“No, Arano. It’s better that the valley took him.” Turning her face into his chest, she kissed him there. “Your skin is so warm and soft. I love to touch you and kiss you and suck your kzusha.” “Really? Well, then it’s a good thing that we are to be bond mates so that you can touch me all you wish,” he said with humor. “I also love to touch you and kiss you. And I especially like it when you suck my cock.” Helping her to sit up, he directed, “Spread your legs for me, dearheart, and we will begin.” “What?” she faltered as she looked at him in astonishment somehow sure that he was not talking about the touching they had done in the last few eight-days. His face was very serious. Patiently, he reassured her, “I will show you how this is done so that you will not be afraid. I must not break the barrier until the bonding rite but I will explain it.” Shakily, she lay back on the grass and spread her legs. Then very simply, using their bodies as demonstration pieces, he explained the procedure. To say the least, she was not impressed. “That’s impossible,” she said adamantly. “Your kzusha cannot possibly fit in there. You could barely even get your fingers in there. You must be wrong.” “I assure you, it will fit. Eventually, when our child is born, he or she will be born through that same place and a baby’s head is bigger than I am.” He smiled at her appalled horror. “Silence, babies are born all the time and they’re all born the same way.” “Truly?” she whispered. “Truly. What do you think Dancer and Eppie are doing when they are in schalzina? That is what schalzina is about—the woman needing to have the man’s cock inside. It is a necessity or she will die.” He saw her confusion and sighed deep inside. So much she didn’t know. So much to teach her. “You don’t know about schalzina?” Slowly she shook her head. “So I will explain.” He pulled her into the space between his legs so that his cock brushed against her soft ass. She leaned against his chest and listened intently as he told her all about the strange things her body would do after their oath-binding. “Once we have the pledging and our oath-binding, we will join like I explained before.” He felt her tremble and gently shook her. “Don’t be afraid. Inside your pussy there is a place high up that is called your schela. It’s a ring of muscles. Once my cock is inside your pussy, your schela will squeeze it and lock us together.” “Won’t that hurt you?” she asked with a small frown. “Not according to what the others have told me. Schalzina is the way your body prepares your pussy for my cock so that we can make a baby. It makes you very wet inside and your schela swells so that it locks us together.” “Why doesn’t it do that the rest of the time?” she asked in puzzlement.
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He laughed quietly. “I think the valley has made it so that men and women do not do this without the bonding. They receive pleasure from it and there would be many babies with no parents otherwise.” Slowly she shook her head. His heart squeezed so tight in his chest he felt like he was having a heart attack. She drew her knees up to her chest and put her head down in despair. “Arano, they will not permit this. They will say that I am too old or that you are too young. They will not let us have babies,” she said sadly. “They will let us,” he replied with determination. “You must be ready. When the time is right, I will come for you. Now, let us sit on the quilt and eat lunch. We will have to go home soon.
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Chapter Eight Early in the morning on the first day of the Gathering, Arano escorted Silence to Jailyn’s dome before reporting for his scheduled duties at the warriors’ field house. Silence proudly wore her new turquoise meerlim with her lacy cap and over one arm she draped the new festival shawl Jailyn had completed the day before. On her feet, she wore the new creamy colored sandals Arano had made for her. Jailyn and Noah had to smile at Silence’s obvious delight with her new clothing. As she happily trotted along with them, Jailyn marveled at the changes in the beaten-down woman that Arano had first brought to her a few short eight-days ago. She was forced to admit that the couple seemed to be a good fit. Clearly Arano was very good for Silence and, if Arano’s pleasure was any measure, being with Silence was good for him. They crossed the bridge and joined the milling throngs of people on the broad training field. Gaily colored hurkas dotted the grassy plain with open-sided domes scattered among them for shelter from the hot sun at the cooking fires. Jailyn led the way to their purple-domed hurka with occasional pauses to speak to old friends. Each time she introduced Silence as Dai’s daughter. With a small smile, she noted the large number of surprised speculative glances that Silence’s attire and changed demeanor drew. The Gathering was the perfect place to introduce the new Silence. In front of their hurka Noah had placed three Adirondack chairs complete with cushions and a small table. Jailyn took Silence’s shawl and tossed it inside the small domed tent before heading for the tables groaning under the weight of food. Uncertainly, Silence stood next to the hurka, shifting from one foot to the other. She barely remembered the last Gathering she had attended and now she had no idea of what she was supposed to do. “Silence!” Jailyn called. “Come here!” She held out a plate heaped high with all sorts of savory treats. “If you don’t hurry, the younglings will eat all the food before you get here.” Obediently, Silence trotted over to the table and took the plate from Jailyn. Without a thought about it she carried it back to the hurka and deposited it in Noah’s hands. He looked from the plate to Silence and gently observed, “Silence, this is for you. Sit down here next to me and I will put this plate on the table for you.” She sat down but just looked at the plate as though it was a snake waiting to bite her. She made no move to eat though she did look longingly at the food. Finally, Noah realized that she would never eat as long as he sat next to her, so he stood up and went in search of Arano. Clearly there were still a few things that they needed to work on. Once he was gone, she cautiously snapped up a tiny sausage roll and nibbled on it while she waited for Jailyn to return. But Jailyn, caught up in renewing old friendships, 58
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did not return. When Silence finished the sausage roll, she picked a little dough square spread with fish paste and tried that. Soon her entire attention was centered on the rapidly diminishing pile of food. “Boy, you sure eat a lot,” a young boyish voice announced loudly. Startled, she looked up to find a small group of children standing in a loose circle around her chair. It was a mixed group old enough to wear clothing, all dressed in festival wear. The oldest boy, clearly the speaker for the group, rudely demanded, “What happened to your hair, huh? I thought only barren women had their hair cut.” Mentally Silence shrank into herself and curled up. She looked around for a place to hide as she noted the interested stares from the groups gathered at the adjoining hurkas. She should have stayed home, she thought. Now everyone would know her shame. She stood up and turned to flee but realized that she wasn’t sure how to get home from the Gathering. Paralyzed with embarrassment, she didn’t know what to do. Just then a stern authoritative voice observed, “I see that you have not ceased your bullying, Owen Goodspeed. It is past time that you are sentenced for your offense.” Shocked, Silence stared at her father in amazement as he seized young Owen by his pointed ear and held him immobile while his companion summoned the nearest morkert. When Andrew McCrory, the justice hustled over at Wolfe’s request, Dai released his captive and ungently nudged him toward the huge man standing next to Wolfe. “How may I help you, Dai?” the man asked courteously. “Young Owen has been up to his tricks again. This time he was rude to my daughter, Silence. He made inappropriate remarks and posed questions about things that were none of his business.” Dai’s cold recitation revealed the depth of his anger. “This is my daughter’s first public venture in many years and he attempted to shame her in this Gathering.” He straightened his shoulders and stared around them in obvious derision. “It is my shame that my daughter suffered great pain in the past unchecked. It is the shame of those gathered here that they allowed this young wolvala to continue her torment.” Old Angus Goodspeed shoved his way through the hastily dispersing crowd. “Here, what’s this Andrew McCrory? Why are you holding my grandson?” “Your grandson will be taken before the council, Angus, for his crimes against a woman. You may join us.” Andrew’s steely reply rippled through the crowd as he led Owen to the huge open-sided dome reserved for the council meeting. Dai took Silence’s arm and gently guided her after them. By the time they reached the council meeting, Jailyn and Noah had joined them. Young Owen might have been let off with a reprimand but there were other victims of his rudeness and bullying behavior who were of a mind to see that he got a more fitting punishment. After all those who wished to had spoken, the council gave their sentence. It was a stern one. “Owen Goodspeed, stand before the council.” 59
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At this point, even his grandfather was seriously ticked off. He shoved him forward and stood behind him stiff with anger and embarrassment. Alf Campbell, the ancient council member from Broken Pine glowered at the defiant youngster. “You have violated so many of the Warrior’s Tenets that I don’t even know where to begin,” he declared in disgust. “If you had sixteen years, I would recommend the judgment seat for you but since you only have eleven years, we will have to do the best we can. For your active torment of a woman—especially a woman who has already suffered much—you will remove and surrender your chinkas until next Midsummer Gathering. If by that time you show improvement the council will restore them.” A low murmur ran through the people standing four and five deep around the great dome. When his grandfather had stripped Owen’s chinkas from his hair and released his hair from the braids, he dumped the chinkas on the council table and stood back. A hush fell over the crowd. Many were still shocked at the less-than-subtle threat of the judgment seat. “For your disobedience and disrespect of the laws of this gathering, you will be assigned a guardian at Rebaccah’s Promise until the next Midsummer Gathering. Clearly, you need something to occupy you. Ephraim Greene, the metalworker has agreed to take you as an apprentice.” Stunned silence fell over the crowd. Rebaccah’s Promise was as far away as one could get from Goodspeed’s Delight where Owen lived. A few heads nodded agreement though when they heard Ephraim’s name. A solid citizen, he was huge, silent and not given to frivolity. Working the bellows in his blacksmith shop would definitely keep Owen out of mischief. Alf held his hand up and the gathering held their collective breath to see what he had to add. “For your active torment and abuse of those younger than you, you will not be permitted any more clothing than the youngest among us. If you must act like a child, you will dress like a child. Ephraim will decide what clothing will be appropriate until next Midsummer Gathering. Your sentences begin immediately.” Ephraim worked his way through the muttering crowd, stood next to Owen and instructed, “Remove your sharda. Give it to your grandfather and follow me. Wherever I go, whatever I do, you will remain close enough that I can touch your shoulder at any time unless I instruct you otherwise.” Once Owen stood naked before the people Ephraim turned and led the way to his gray hurka. It said much that the crowd moved back so that he had a clear path the entire way. When they reached the hurka, Ephraim told him to sit next to the door and not move unless he was told differently. Still shellshocked at the swift changes in his young life, Owen obeyed. Out past the edge of the field, Arturo had Arano flat on the ground and was cheerfully sitting on his chest. Wolfe trotted up to them still laughing and reported the entire proceedings. “What about Silence?” Arano spat out. “She must be devastated.”
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“Actually,” Wolfe pointed out with a smile, “Dai’s got her tucked under his arm and it doesn’t look like he’s of a mind to let her loose anytime soon. This might be a good thing in the end. She was pretty wilted there at the start but she’s perking back up. Dai’s dragging her around with him and introducing her to his friends. I think you’ll find that it will serve, Arano. Let her find her feet this way.” “You’re positive, Wolfe?” “I may be younger than you but I’m not completely stupid,” Wolfe replied coldly. “You need to let her deal with a few things on her own. Dai will make sure that no one will scare her or hurt her. I’ll keep an eye on her. If you go after her, your intentions will be obvious. They already are if anyone knows what to look for!” Arano flung one arm over his eyes and groaned. “I don’t remember mentioning the word ‘stupid’ or in any way implying that you were, Wolfe. And Turo, you can get off of me now. You’re enjoying bouncing on my chest entirely too much. Both of you are having too much fun at my expense.” Arturo chuckled and stood up. “You’re usually so much in control of your destiny, my brother, that we’re enjoying watching you deal with something you can’t manipulate.” He offered Arano a helping hand and pulled him to his feet. “But Wolfe has a valid point. If you continue to spend time with her in public, your intentions certainly won’t be a secret. You might be up to dealing with the tempest but I don’t think that Silence is.” “All right, all right! Both of you have jabbed me enough with those flicknives you use for tongues. I will stay away from her while we’re at the Gathering.” He brushed grass from his sharda and took a deep breath. “Has anyone seen Panther and Llyon today? I expected them to be in the midst of that mess.” “If you were home more, instead of living at Silence’s dome, you would know,” jibed Wolfe. “Arturo sentenced them to sit in the doorway of Wrenna’s pottery dome for the entire eight-day of the Gathering. He also took their chinkas for the next two eight-days.” Arano absently rubbed his chest. Turo was no lightweight. “What did they do this time?” “Stole something from Traveller’s packs and then lied about it.” Arano silently whistled. “Good call. Although after Owen’s sentence, they might have second thoughts about pulling their pranks. Alf was sending a clear message, I think. What did Bishop have to say about all of this?” “He’s a hard-assed man, our uncle,” Turo observed. “I don’t know what will become of him here in the valley but I think I would want him on my side in a fight.” Arano thought about that for a few moments and then asked, “And Traveller?” Wolfe shrugged. “Traveller is in bad shape now but once he heals, he will be formidable. He didn’t get those muscles from sitting around. If he had been a lesser man he would have died. When I returned the picture to his pack, I saw the weapons he carries.” He scratched his chin as he framed his speculation, “I think that Dancer and 61
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Traveller are far more dangerous than we’ve dreamed. And I think that Papa knows exactly who they are. Dancer was enraged when he found out our family name is Llewellyn.” Wolfe nodded to himself slowly. “Papa knows something about them.” “What could he know?” Turo demanded. “They came to the valley from outside. They are Dai’s grandsons. What else?” “I don’t know but Papa and Dai were worried enough about Dancer’s reaction when he found out that they left Traveller with the others and went to Stonehollow. Why else would they do that?” They had no answer for that. Wolfe looked around to make sure they were alone before he turned back to them. “Why would Papa be willing to sponsor Dancer as a warrior without any training?” “What! That’s not possible!” Turo exclaimed. Wolfe just stared at them and Arano uneasily asked, “How do you know that?” “I heard them talking on their back patio the day after Traveller arrived. Dai’s going to sponsor Traveller when he’s well enough for the trial.” Arano paced back and forth for long moments before observing, “Not even Papa and Dai would flout the warrior requirements. Which means you’re correct, Wolfe. They know something about them that the rest of us don’t know.” “When are you going to bond with Silence?” Wolfe asked quietly. Arano looked across the field where Dai was leading her up to a table. “As soon as possible. Not during the Gathering. But once things are quiet after the Gathering, I will watch for an opportunity.” He looked back at his brothers in determination. “And we will claim birth-rite. Silence will not be shamed again because she has no child.”
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Chapter Nine Two days after the Gathering drew to a close, Arano left Silence’s dome and went to meditate in the serene stillness of the pool clearing at circle five. He carefully bypassed the actual circle with its tall carved stone sentinels and huge central altar stone. On the far side, a small reflecting pool and grassy clearing protected the waterfall and hidden cave where Traveller and Bishop had entered the valley. Arano slumped down on the cool stone bench next to the pool and reflected on all that happened in the past few moons and eight-days. He knew that Arturo must leave. Turo thought Arano didn’t know how fascinated he was with the tawny, giant archivist from Talking Wall. Watching the way Turo’s eyes were drawn to the man, Arano had asked around until he knew his name and as much about him as he could glean from general conversation. Ban. Garzhan and unattached after he lost his covenant partner in an accident two years ago. He was pretty sure that Ban was Dai’s oldest son. Hah! He was perfect for Arturo. Of course there was the problem of getting Arturo to Talking Wall. Perhaps Dai could be of some assistance there. When he introduced Silence to the man, it was clear that he knew him quite well, even if what Arano suspected wasn’t true. The contrast between the two had been startling. Dai the silver-haired healer was quite short but no one would ever describe him as little. In some indefinable way, the force of his militant personality masked his size. On the other hand Ban was even taller than the Llewellyn men. Arano speculated that he might be close to seven feet. His broad shoulders and powerful arms and legs made him appear to be even bigger. And then there was the hair. Arano snorted. His twin was a sucker for long hair and Ban had it in abundance. Tawny golden hair that flowed loose down his back to below tight muscular buttocks. He didn’t wear the warrior braids so he had never taken the vows but it was clear that he did something physical to maintain that shape. Oh, yeah. Arturo was a goner. Now how was he going to get Turo up to Talking Wall? In the twilight shadows he watched Dai enter the clearing. His jloni walked over next to the bench where Arano was stretched out and silently sat down in the cool grass. After a moment, he said, “So this is where you have been hiding.” “Uh-hmm.” Arano waited to see what Dai would say next. Dai frowned down at his dusty bare toes. “Why? Why hide from your parents or me?” Abruptly Arano became angry. He sat up, shoved his dark braids back over his shoulder and coolly inquired, “Am I a man, Dai?”
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After considerable thought, Dai cautiously agreed, “Yes.” “And yet, you have come to find me as though I was a small child,” Arano pointed out scornfully. “Arturo and I had our birthday this past moon and I have twenty-one years now. When will you treat me like a man?” “You know what happened to Arturo!” Dai protested. “I. Am. Not. Arturo.” The fury behind the quiet statement caught Dai’s attention. As calmly as possible, he acknowledged, “I know you are not Arturo. I held you in my arms fresh from your mother’s womb the day you and Arturo were born. I named you.” “Then you will understand that I am tired of being confused with Turo and so is he. He’s my brother, my twin but not me. We have no twin-bond. We are very different and we would like to be able to have our own lives.” Arano leaned down so that he was eye to eye with Dai. “I know better than anyone how devastated Arturo was. I’m the one who listened to his nightmares. I’m the one who held him when he cried at night. Neither of us needs to be daily reminded of his rape.” “No one does that,” Dai argued hotly. “No one would dare!” “Don’t they? Everyone walks around us like we’re walking wounded. Poor Arturo!” Arano sneered. “You wonder why he retires to our room? It’s because he can’t stand to see the expression on your faces! He won’t ever get better because no one will let him!” Arano got up and stalked around the clearing. “Did you know that his students are afraid to touch him? The simplest touch during training is not possible.” “What? Why?” “Who knows? Maybe they think his experience will rub off on them!” Dai frowned angrily. “Why didn’t he say something to your Papa? Something must be done.” Arano snorted in disgust. “Sometimes you demonstrate the brains of a pea and that’s insulting the pea. What exactly do you think you can do to change how his students feel?” Silence echoed around the clearing after Arano’s outburst. “Do you know a way to control what others think or feel? I would like to know how to do that!” Then Dai coldly inquired, “You have a solution, I suppose?” “Arturo and I have talked about it. He needs go away to one of the other villages and start over. He has skills and sufficient barter credits to support himself. If he stays here, he’ll end up a hermit.” Arano flopped down next to Dai. “He has to go so that both of us can have a life.” “And what about you, Little Eagle? What will happen to you after he’s gone?” Dai asked softly. “Maybe I will finally be free to convince my bond mate that I’m trustworthy mate material.” “A woman?”
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“A woman,” Arano confirmed with an annoyed snort. “I did tell you that Arturo and I are very different. When have I ever given you reason to believe that I’m garzhan?” Ignoring Arano’s attempt at misdirection, Dai demanded, “Who?” “None of your business.” Dai was shocked by Arano’s flat refusal to identify the woman. In fact he was stunned by Arano’s entire attitude. “Why?” “Because I don’t only have visions about invaders from the out-valley,” Arano replied coolly. “I also see my own future and know the objections there will be to my choice of mate. Until the pledging is complete and accepted by the valley…” he shook his head. “No one will know until then.” “Do you have an attachment with this woman?” “A mental bond? No. I will have to convince her in the traditional way,” Arano admitted with a sudden smile. “Tradition has much to offer.” Dai snorted in amusement. “I can see that you are looking forward to all of the pleasure steps in your courtship. Take your time and enjoy each new level to the fullest.” With jarring abruptness, Arano changed the subject. “What do you know of Ban from Talking Wall?” “Ban.” Confused and off-center from the conversation, Dai stared at him with a dark frown. “Ban? Why do you want to know about Ban?” “Because Arturo is fascinated by him.” Arano watched Dai’s face as he digested that news and considered the possibilities it presented. “Banisher Ewell, Master Archivist at Talking Wall.” Dai shot him a curious glance. “When did Arturo meet Ban?” “As far as I know he didn’t. But he spent most days at the Gathering following him around with his eyes and Dai, he wasn’t checking out his feet.” Arano’s dry observation had Dai’s eyes widening in shock. The expression on his face was priceless when Arano added, “I would venture a wager that he could tell you exactly how well hung the man is and whether he holds his cock in his right hand or left hand to piss.” “Wolvalas tits! Arturo’s not ready for a covenant bond yet. And Ban won’t have it any other way.” Now it was Dai’s turn to clamber to his feet and pace around the clearing in agitation. “A retreat,” he muttered under his breath. “When your mama and papa finish their seclusion, I will take him down to my retreat. Actually,” he added slowly, “I think I’ll take Tyger and Bishop, also. Tyger must get past what he did to his loom so he can return to weaving. He’s refused to even enter the weaving dome. And Bishop?” Dai lifted his middle finger in an extremely rude gesture that had Arano’s eyes glittering in amusement. “Bishop must come to terms with the fact that he cannot leave the valley. Yes! I will take them on retreat next moon.”
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He turned to face Arano as darkness fell and moonlight poured into the circle. “Don’t think that you’ve distracted me. I will be watching you, my fine Eagle. Your choice of bond mate intrigues me. Someone I wouldn’t approve of, hmmm?” He shook the grass from his sharda and stomped out of the clearing. Arano sat down on the bench contemplating Dai’s plan. After a while he decided that it could serve. Dai was relentless and obstinate once he settled on a particular scheme. And though he had pointed out that Arturo wasn’t quite ready to settle on a permanent relationship, he hadn’t objected to Turo’s choice. Interesting. Did that mean he approved? He got to his feet and brushed the grass from his sharda wondering if there was anything left to eat at home. If no one had set something aside for him, Hawke would have devoured the leftovers long ago. At the rate he was growing, his brother would be towering over all the rest of them by the time he had eighteen years. Arano made his way toward home in the deepening darkness. As he passed Silence’s dome, he wondered what she would be doing this time of night. Almost all of the time they spent together was during the day. On impulse, he turned back and walked around the dome to the back door. He knocked lightly and shortly he heard her voice nervously demanding, “Who is it?” “It’s Arano. May I come in?” Silence flung the door open, grabbed his hand and tugged him inside. “Hurry!” “What? What is it?” he asked immediately on guard. She led him down the hall to the bedroom and over to the bed, where she tumbled down onto her back. “I need you,” she said urgently twisting and turning on the rumpled mattress. “Please, Arano, hurry.” He slowly unfastened his sharda and laid it aside before unlacing his sandals. It didn’t take a genius to understand what Silence needed but he didn’t want her to depend on him only for pleasure. So he stood at the end of the bed naked, slowly stoking his cock and observed, “Pleasure between us should be because you want me, dearheart, not because you need me. Want and need are two different things. I think that it’s time for you to learn how to pleasure yourself.” Silence rolled over and sat up. “You don’t want me anymore?” she demanded with wounded eyes. “Of course I want you. But more than that, I want you to know how to please yourself. Lie down and spread your legs. I will show you how to do that.” He waited for her to obey him before he located the small mirror on the chest and crawled onto the bed between her legs with it in one hand. After handing it to her, he gently spread her pouting pussy with his thumbs and directed, “Hold the mirror so you can see yourself, Silence. See this little button here? That is called your clit. That is what you like to rub on my cock when you sit on my belly. Touch it with you hand.” Awkwardly and hesitantly she touched her clit. A small gasp escaped as she twitched at the sensitive caress. Then almost as though she couldn’t help herself, she 66
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slowly explored the juicy folds around it. Soft golden curls twined around her fingers and she impatiently brushed them aside so she could see what she was doing in the mirror. Arano took the opportunity to broach a subject he’d been considering for a while. “Dearheart, would you mind if we removed the curls on your pussy?” As always when she was contemplating a new idea she grew still. Finally she asked, “Why?” “For one thing, you’ll be able to clearly see what you’re doing. And I have something else I planned to show you but I would prefer that the curls were gone before I do that,” he said frankly. She blinked once and slowly agreed, “All right.” With a grave nod, he slipped off the bed and went into the bathing room. Almost immediately he returned with a squat blue jug containing a blue salve and a steaming hot wash cloth. He handed her the open jug. Puzzled, she held it while he scooped out a generous dollop of the salve and spread it over the blonde curls covering her swelling mound and pussy. It didn’t take long and then he carefully wiped the salve away with the cloth. It took a couple of trips back to the bathing room to rinse out the cloth but in a surprisingly short time all the curls were gone. He took the jug of salve away and suggested, “Now look at your pussy, Silence. You will be able to see everything clearly, I think.” When he returned, she was pinching one smooth fat fold and pulling it to the side. “Arano,” she demanded, “hold it open!” “Hold what open?” he asked innocently, wondering if she would say the word she had spent weeks avoiding. “My pussy! Hold it open so I can see!” Obligingly he held the lips open with his thumbs and waited patiently as she explored, touching and poking and rubbing every part. Hesitantly, she fingered her opening and then slipped one fingertip inside. “It feels good.” “So now give me the mirror and close your eyes. Touch yourself and concentrate on how each touch feels. Think of me watching you while you’re playing with your pussy,” he whispered softly. “Think of me stroking my cock and massaging my balls while I watch you.” Silence dropped the mirror in his palm and brushed both hands down between her legs. Like a small child exploring, she nudged and rubbed and toyed with her slick, pale blue petals, clearly enjoying her own touch. The slide of her fingers over the smooth slippery folds set off a cacophony of sensations ricocheting along nerve paths to places she didn’t anticipate. Her nipples got hot and tight and demanding so she pinched and tugged at them with one hand while she continued to stimulate her clit with the other. She felt the hot trickle of fluid between her legs and pulled her knees up against her belly, pressing her thighs together and squeezing her hand between them. Searing heat climbed up her 67
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spine and spread between her shoulder blades. Her body tightened and twisted on the soft mattress. She whimpered and moaned and rubbed harder. Suddenly, with a fierce rush, the waves of climax shook her and she cried out his name. Shuddering, she sprawled out with her legs brushing his hard muscular thighs. Crouched on his knees between her legs, he watched the soft inner petals of her pussy flutter and tremble. His cock was aching and swollen but he ignored it as he leaned forward to lap the glistening cream from her spread pussy. She shrieked and snapped her thighs together, trapping his head between them. “What are you doing?” she demanded between light pants. “Hmm. I’m tasting you. You lick me all the time.” His reasonable explanation didn’t quite convince her. She grasped his hair in her hands and tugged. “Arano, why would you want to do that?” When he lifted his head, his eyes glittered with amusement. “Why do you suck on my cock?” he countered. “It tastes good. And I like the way you feel in my mouth.” Finally she released him and relaxed back against the fluffy pillows. “Does it really make you happy?” “Yes, Silence, it makes me happy. I love the way you feel against my tongue. I love the way you taste. And I love the way you move against my mouth.” Restlessly she arched, pressing her pussy against his busy flickering tongue. “But I want to suck your kzusha,” she grumbled even as she moaned when he lashed her clit. He raised his head and appeared to be considering something. “There is a way,” he said finally, “that we may both have what we want. If you want to try something new.” “Yes!” Sitting up, he gestured for her to get off the bed. “I will lie down. And then you will get on top facing my feet.” In a few moments, they were situated to his satisfaction and she was eagerly sucking his cock yet not quite catching on to his intentions. When he skimmed his tongue from her clit to her anus in one long luxurious lick, it was a good thing he had a firm grip on her hips because she jerked and then hummed happily around his cock. Soft slurping suckling sounds punctuated by moans and whimpers filled the room. Arano fought to postpone his climax until Silence reached hers but her enthusiastic hot, wet mouth and the scent and taste of her arousal defeated him. Long before he was ready to surrender to her bold hunger, he felt the tightening in his balls and the lightning heat as his seed jetted out, filling her greedy mouth. Moments later she joined him with a rushing surge of her own sweet cream. Arano lapped until she was clean while she tended to him with her busy tongue. Finally, sighing and exhausted, they curled together and slept.
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Much later, he woke with a start to the worried tones of Arturo’s voice in his head. Arano! Are you safe? Where are you? Shamed and guilty for alarming his twin, he reassured him, I am well. I’ll be home shortly and I’m sorry for causing you to worry. After a long pause, Turo answered with impish humor, As long as all is well…and obviously from your state all is very well. Tell Silence good night. Arano slipped from the bed, dressed silently in the dark and made his way through the house. At the back door, he paused to slip on his sandals and swiftly tie the laces. Then he quietly made his way through the woods to the village, emerging from the trees near Wrenna’s pottery dome. Dai sat hidden in the shadows on the patio. Where had Arano been? Who was the woman he had chosen and why was he so anxious to hide her identity? Short of traveling all the way to Bell’s Corner, no woman lived in that direction. It was a puzzle that annoyed him enormously.
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Chapter Ten Over the next two eight-days Arano hunted with a vengeance. His daily hauls had Eron the butcher eyeing him with uneasy curiosity. “You have nothing to do, Arano? What am I going to do with so much meat?” Shrugging Arano casually pointed out, “I thought you would probably be getting low on supplies for fall and winter. With the Gathering and the other interruptions this summer, I haven’t brought in as much meat as Turo and I used to.” Rubbing his hands together, Eron just stared at him in bafflement. “I suppose that is true. You caught me by surprise with this sudden influx. But of course you’re right. If I fill the smokehouse, the village will have enough for winter. Are you taking orders?” “What do you need?” Arano asked practically, pulling out a small, handmade note booklet. “If I can supply it, I will.” Eron handed him a stylus and recited his list. “Six good-sized deer. At least twenty hoppers. Two or three bohras, though I know they will necessitate a group hunt. If you bring in that much, the rest will be taken care of with rowans and woolies.” He shrugged. “Everyone pretty much has their own peekies for eggs and soups.” When he finished jotting down the list of glyphs, Arano handed back the stylus and tucked the booklet back in his waist pouch. “I’ll see what I can do. Turo was saying that the oldest warrior class is getting restless. A good hunt might be just what they need.” “I heard there’s a nest of bohras out past the Far Woods. One of them carried away a child from the northern woodcutters’ camp,” Eron relayed soberly. “In that case, we’ll organize that hunt this week. I’ll get back to you, Eron, with the other items on the list.” Though Arturo supplied plenty of young warriors for the bohras hunt, he declined to join them and Arano didn’t press the issue. That was something that Turo would have to work out on his own. Three days later, Arano set off with his group, which included Wolfe, Hawke, Andrew McCrory and Mali Burns. It took the better part of a week but they located the nest of seven bohras and cleared them out. Two bohras they left with the grateful woodcutters, one they dropped off at Bell’s Corner and the other four they dragged back to Eron’s shop. Aside from minor injuries, no one was hurt, which everyone considered a blessing. Bohras were notoriously difficult to bring down without someone in the party ending up messily gored or even dead. By the time he had filled the rest of Eron’s order, life had changed again in the village. Traveller, Wrenna’s bond mate, had healed enough that they were making
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plans for their oath-binding ceremony. Most of the pregnant couples from that first bonding storm were emerging from their seclusion. Jade and Merlyn were home at last. Dai reported that Eppie and Dancer were coming into Lost Market to visit with Traveller and Arano decided that might be the time to make his move. It was his turn in the rotation to provide lunch so he prepared some additional refreshments and set out extra tea mugs. He was certain that with the inevitability of a fast growing fungus, two visitors would turn into ten. That was the way things worked in the Llewellyn household. Surely with all the distraction of extra people, no one would notice when he disappeared. As he had foreseen, the living room was soon crowded with several people all anxious to visit after being confined to sick room or bonding cottages. Arano was just walking back in the room with another tray loaded down with tea mugs when Trav struggled to sit up. “Bish! Did you give Dance his violin and guitar?” he asked anxiously. “Nope! I completely forgot about them. Hold on, Dance!” Bishop slipped down the hall to his room and retrieved the two instruments even as he noted it was awfully quiet. When he returned to the living room, he handed Dancer the violin case and set the guitar case next to Eppie. “Here you are.” Dance opened the battered case with trembling fingers. He hadn’t thought he would ever see his violin again. Carefully, he tuned it, checked his bow and then drew it across the strings, slipping into the strains of the lullaby he had played for Eppie on his little flute. A startled look crossed Jade’s face and she privately queried Merlyn, He’s that Dancer? Yes, love, he’s that Dancer. When he finished the song, Jade said softly, “You’re that Dancer. I once played with you when you were about ten years old.” He whirled to look at her in surprise. “You’re Jade Alexander? That Jade Alexander?” Carefully, he placed the violin and bow in her hands. “Will you play something?” “Dancer! I haven’t played a violin in over twenty years! My fingers would be shredded!” “Just play something short,” he coaxed. “I remember how exquisitely you played when we performed together.” She took the violin, slipping it beneath her chin. It had been a very long time, so she practiced drawing the bow and twiddled with her fingering. Then, torn between the joy of playing and fear that she had forgotten how, she closed her eyes and launched into her signature piece, her own composition, Jade’s Joy. When the last note died away and she opened her eyes, the room was crowded with her astonished and stunned children. Sight wasn’t necessary. She could feel their surprise and wonder. “Now aren’t you glad we brought the violin?” Trav whispered to Bish with satisfaction. 71
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While everyone was still clamoring for more, Arano slipped out. He walked quickly to the path that led to Silence’s house, anxious to get out of sight before someone saw him. Once hidden by the woods, he ran all the way to her cottage. “Silence!” He pounded on her back door impatiently. “Silence, open up!” She flung the door open and stood staring at him in fright. Her heart pounding fiercely, she demanded, “What’s wrong? What is it?” “It’s time,” he announced breathlessly. “Quickly, now. Where is your meerlim?” Silence frowned. “Arano, they are not going to allow us to have an oath-binding. They will say that I’m too old.” Looking around he located her sandals and nodded agreement, “It’s true. However, if our pledge is accepted, they cannot deny us the oath-binding rite.” He helped her slip on her sunny yellow meerlim. “I think we must go to the stone circle and do the pledging now. Then we will ask for the oath-binding.” He kissed her very gently. “Will you come with me and pledge to be my bond mate?” “I have no pledging blanket,” she said with quiet sadness. “Homer burned it.” “Then we will use my sharda. Tyger wove it and the valley has never rejected anything woven by Ty. Come, let us go now, before I am missed at home.” He took her hand and led her through the gate to the path. “This way. The closest circle is down this path.” When they arrived at the circle, they prepared for the ritual, undressing, removing all of the chinkas from his shiny black hair and loosening the braids. Then taking his sharda they entered the circle. He spread the sharda on the flat stone and lifted Silence up. Climbing up after her, he guided her through the pledging rite. As they recited the pledges a whirlwind entered the circle and swept the shining, dark, kinky strands of his hair up, spreading them out like a cloak around them. A keening, moaning sigh swept through the little glen and then with a breathless silence, everything was quiet leaving them standing naked on the solid rock, locked in a close embrace. Do you see, dearheart? He asked. Do you see how I love you? Is this what it’s like? She answered in wonder. What is this feeling, Arano? Why do I hear you in my head? Love, desire, sharing, bonding. Now do you feel how much I want you and need you? Now do you see how beautiful you are? We are one now. No one can deny us the oath-binding. No one. Abruptly, thunder growled like an angry grimahr overhead. The day went dark and gray. Lightning bolts ran from horizon to horizon and the winds whipped the trees in a wild gyrating dance. Only in the circle was it quiet. Only in the circle were they safe as they slipped into rapport. Tyger and Llyon, drawn to the circle by the storm, skidded to a halt outside the ancient stone circle in time to witness a most astounding sight. Numb with shock, they watched the overwhelming display the valley was producing to honor the pledging
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between Arano and Silence. The stones were translucent, flashing in a rapidly changing pattern of colors as a whirlpool of light enveloped Arano and Silence, whipping Arano’s long, dark hair around them in a silky shroud. Abruptly, as though cut by an unseen hand, silence fell over the valley. The carved spirals and glyphs on the stone sentinels turned opaque and dull gray. The wind died. And on the giant altar stone in the center of the circle, Arano stood tenderly embracing his beloved, his chinkas cast down at his feet next to her meerlim and his sharda spread beneath their feet in lieu of a proper bonding blanket. The pledging—begun in secret—was complete and publicly avowed by the valley. No one would be able to deny them or their right to the oath-binding ritual. Clutching his slith, his tiny ritual knife in his right hand, he tilted his head so that his dark eyes met Llyon’s. “Fetch Dai and Papa,” he commanded his voice scratchy with deep emotion. “We wish to claim birth-rite and they must be here as witnesses.” “What have you done?” Llyon whispered. “She is barren.” “Not so, Ly. She is untouched. We will claim birth-rite and have a child for all to see that she is not barren.” “Arano! They will not allow it! She has fourteen years more than you do! “They cannot deny us, Llyon. She is my woman. The valley has validated our pledging and I will not repudiate it!” When Llyon tried to enter the circle there was a tremendous crack of thunder, his feet were swept from under him and he ended up halfway out of the circle. Tyger grabbed his hands and pulled him from the circle while lightning crackled ominously all around the stone sentinels. After assuring himself that Llyon was uninjured, he shouted, “Stay here with them! I will go get Dai and Papa. The valley has accepted their pledge and is protecting them!” Llyon nodded his assent. “Stay out of the circle,” Ty warned. Whatever Llyon was going to retort was lost in the rushing arrival of Merlyn, Dai and Bishop. They joined the twins in the entrance and stared wide-eyed at the lightning storm. Tyger pulled Llyon back. “Let them deal with this,” he said gently. “I think this is not for us.” When Llyon nodded his reluctant agreement, Tyger told the others, “Llyon and I are going back to the village. We will tell someone to get a bonding cottage ready.” Merlyn nodded stunned agreement. “I think we will need it soon.” When they were gone, Dai called out angrily, “Arano! Silence! What is this that you have done?” “I have pledged with this woman!” Arano reiterated staunchly. “She is untouched. We claim the oath binding rite!” “You are a child!” Dai roared. “She is old enough to be your mother!” “I am a man! Enough of a man that my pledge has been accepted! Would you deny me?” Arano was implacable. “I will bond with her here and now, whether you will it or
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not! She is my woman.” As Llyon had foreseen, objections raged on all sides but in the end, after reminding Dai of their earlier discussion, Arano prevailed as they reluctantly witnessed the oath-binding and birth-rite claim of Arano and Silence. “I remind you of our conversation in this very circle, Dai! I warned you then that you would not approve.” Arano sat cross-legged on the sharda and then positioned Silence facing him between his knees with her legs around his waist. Taking her hand, he slashed her palm and then his own with the tiny slith. “Ready? We will claim the birth-rite?” “Yes,” she answered with simple endless trust. He positioned the head of his aching cock at her seeping entrance. “You must do this, dearheart, while I say the vows.” She nodded agreement and he clasped their bleeding palms firmly together and pressed Silence against him with his other hand as she rocked and determinedly fought until she completely sheathed his erection. Softly she moaned. Stretching their clasped hands over his head he shouted defiantly, “With our mingled blood and sacrifice, I take this woman as my bond mate until death. I claim birth-rite! Give my bond mate a child!” Lightning flared so brightly that Merlyn and Dai couldn’t see the couple on the stone. Bishop squinted against the searing light. Thunder rolled overhead endlessly. Then with one last resounding crash and jagged bolt of light, the clearing went quiet. Small flickers ran from sentinel to sentinel but they could see Silence and Arano, seated in the very center of the altar stone, wrapped tightly together. Silence’s blonde curls, so ruthlessly shorn by Homer, rippled down her back in a curtain long enough to hide her body. The altar pulsed and crackled with light, though they appeared to be untouched. The carved symbols that rimmed the altar stood out in bold relief. The three witnesses crouched in the entryway. “Arano?” Dai whispered. “We will get a bonding cottage ready for you. Are you both all right?” Without opening his eyes, he cuddled Silence against his chest and answered with a joyous smile. “We are all right. There is no hurry now. Nor do we need a cottage. We will go home. We have already created a special child here on the altar stone.” “I have seen this. The valley has spoken. You have my blessings, Arano Llewellyn and Silence, my daughter. May you have many children.” Rain poured down outside the circle, drenching the men. While Dai and Bishop waited to escort Arano and Silence home, Merlyn hurried back to the village. After such a violent bonding storm, no doubt Jade would be in schalzina. No doubt, Merlyn thought in astonished humor, the entire valley would be under the influence of the storm. More babies? How many more did the Valley need? What did the sudden influx of new lives mean? Dai and Bishop retreated to the cave where Bishop and Traveller had first entered the valley and Dai built a small fire with the split logs stacked in readiness against the cave wall. Holding his hands out to the heat, Bishop shivered in the cool air and silently
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wondered exactly what they were waiting for. Finally unable to contain his curiosity any longer, he burst out, “What the hell are we hanging around for?” “They are locked in schalzina,” Dai replied quietly. “You remember, I explained this to you and Traveller only yesterday.” “They’re locked? You mean she’s pinching his dick with her cunt and he can’t get it out?” he exclaimed aghast. “I thought you were exaggerating.” Low laughter filled the cave. “I knew you didn’t believe,” Dai declared with a satisfied air. “Now you see. Schalzina is real. They are locked together because her schela is closed around his cock. They will climax many times until it is over. Then the schela will release him and we can escort them home.” “The women really have a ring of muscle that locks around the cock head? That’s whacked.” Bishop hunched down next to the fire in disgust. “All that stuff you told Trav and me yesterday is true? How the women go into schalzina a lot for the first year after the bonding?” “It’s true,” Dai confirmed with a nod. “I did tell you that things are very different in the valley. Once the bonding is complete, they are perceived by the valley as permanently joined. Everything in his life will take second place to caring for her. Everything,” Dai reiterated. “He will not hunt for a very long time because he cannot leave her alone in case she goes into schalzina. And he will be responsible for her welfare so he must find a different way to earn barter credits.” Soberly Bishop studied the older man and observed, “I met her at the Gathering, you know. I noticed that she seemed a little…slow and fearful. What happened?” “She was with a man who beat her repeatedly. Merlyn believes there is some brain damage. Homer died not too long before you came to the valley.” Bishop shivered again as a cool breeze drifted in the damp air. “How will we know when they are ready to leave?” “Silence will call me. We still have the mind speech, though she doesn’t feel comfortable with it.” When Dai rose and paced around the cave, Bishop realized that he was not nearly as calm as he looked. “For whatever it’s worth, Dai, I believe he loves her,” Bish said quietly. “The way he was holding her? That said he wasn’t ever going to let her go. That was real. He’ll never hurt her.” A sudden, scary smile lit Dai’s face in the firelight. “I know. If I thought otherwise, I would kill him now, even though I love him as my own son. Never will I let another man lay a hand on her in anger. Never.”
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Chapter Eleven Arturo sat in the bedroom he had shared for so long with Arano and stared blindly out at the raging bonding storm. So, he thought. Arano’s patience finally came to an end. With a dreary sigh, he acknowledged the death of his own unfulfilled longings and dreams. Even knowing the impossibilities hadn’t quite killed them like Arano’s bonding did. Time to accept reality and move on, for Arano had never lied to him. His twin had never rejected his feelings or made light of them but had gently firmly shone a merciless light on them revealing the truth. They did not have the twin-bond that Tyger and Llyon had. There would be no covenant bond between him and Arano. He must find someone else. Lightning flashed and lit up the dark room. Turo flung himself down on his bed and finally wept in grief, crying out his heartbreak. He would have liked to pretend that it was because of Jonathan’s vicious attack and rape but even in the midst of his anguish, honesty compelled him to admit that would only be an excuse. The door opened and Wolfe entered, carefully closing the door behind him. “Get out!” “I don’t think so, my brother. There is no shame in grief. The shattering of dreams always hurts.” In the flickering light, Wolf moved to sit on Arano’s bed, across from Turo. “It is the retreat, the surrender to evil that is shameful. Do you think that Arano is suffering less than you?” Turo looked over at the scornful face of his younger but wiser brother. “I have an attachment with Raven, younger sister of Dancer and Traveller just as Robyn has an attachment with Tracer.” With deliberate detachment, Wolfe continued, “Our out-valley grandfather sold our mates into slavery. I was present in Raven’s mind when she was repeatedly raped and beaten, just as Arano was with you. I was with her when they cut out her tongue. Robyn was with Tracer when they cut out his tongue and tortured him. Do you have any idea what it is to be in the mind of your beloved, witnessing unspeakable torments while powerless to prevent them?” In the crackling flare of lightning, Arturo saw the sheen of tears on Wolfe’s face. “You suffered. You were raped and beaten. And you are afraid.” When Turo would have protested, Wolfe stopped him with a sharp gesture. “Yes, you are afraid. There is no shame in fear but now it is time to seek help in dealing with it. You are not a child, Turo, but until you deal with the fear and anger you will not be a man again. And until you are a man, you will not be able to present a whole heart to that man waiting out there somewhere for you.”
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Wearily, he sighed. “I am leaving tomorrow for Rebaccah’s Promise to complete my healer’s training with Henry. Dai is going to his retreat with Tyger and Bishop. You should go with them, Turo. Go and heal. Stop running away from the truth and become the man and warrior that you’re meant to be.” He stood and looked down at his brother. “I love you. Do this for me. Do this for Arano. Do this for yourself.” Without another word, he left closing the door softly behind him. The storm moved past, leaving Arturo in darkness more profound than any he had experienced in his life. When a distant grumble of thunder roused him from his self– absorption he rolled from the bed and twisted the lightstone until it filled the room with a dim glow. Moving slowly, he went into the bathing room, washed his face and returned to survey the bedroom through new, determined eyes. Wolfe was far wiser than he. It was time to move on—time to let go of his anger and cowardice, for though Wolfe had not named it such it was. He was afraid that he would grow old alone, afraid that with Arano gone, he would have no one. Abruptly sick with the image he saw, Arturo dragged his pack from beneath the bed and began to fill it with the clothing and necessities he would need for a sojourn down to Dai’s Retreat. When he was finished, he laid his weapons out on the bed and prepared them for travel. As Arano had promised, he would not be traveling alone, but he also had a personal vow to keep. Never again would he travel unprepared for trouble. When his preparations were complete, he went about the room and packed all of his belongings in his trunk. Wherever he ended, it would not be here. The room was bare except for furniture when he was done. He stripped Arano’s bed and looked thoughtfully at his own. No, there was no need to be uncomfortable tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough to sever that last tie. He twisted the lightstone off and tumbled into bed. Time to sleep. Tomorrow would be a long, long day.
***** Arano lay dozing in the bed. The eerie gray light and the drone of water dripping from the eaves confirmed that it was a good morning to be inside, enjoying the twin comforts of a warm bond mate and a soft bed. Silence had climbed down off the high bed a few minutes ago and was puttering around in the bathing room. He knew his father was worried about their pairing. In many ways Silence was still the same girl who ran away at fourteen. Homer had kept her as ignorant and childish as possible so that she would never get up enough nerve to leave. There were large gaps in her education but in some ways that made her an ideal mate for Arano. He loved her unreservedly and had the infinite patience required to teach her what she needed to know. Though he suspected that Homer’s beatings might have caused some brain damage, she was willing to learn whatever he said she must learn. When she came back to bed, he felt her shift around until she was even with his hips. He kept his eyes closed and continued his even breathing, waiting to see what she
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would do. Usually, she waited for him to initiate touching but this morning she touched his cock gently, fascinated by his ability to get hard in a matter of seconds. As his cock lengthened, she stroked him and petted him and then, much to his enjoyment, she bent low and kissed him. When he didn’t immediately react, she grew bolder and sucked his cock until he was sure he was going to explode. Abruptly, she stopped and he waited to see what she would do next. When she straddled his legs and sank down over him, sliding him deep in her clutching pussy, he opened his eyes at last and smiled at her. “Are you having fun?” he teased, watching her glowing face in the soft shadows. She sighed gustily. “I like this!” she declared deliriously. “Arano, are we truly bonded now?” “Absolutely. Your father will make sure that Noah enters it into the village records.” He pulled her down so that she rested on his chest and cuddled her while his cock soaked in her delicious hot, wet pussy. He brushed her long silky hair back from her face and admitted, “I know that having short hair bothered you but I’ll miss your short curls.” Lifting her head, she looked him in the eye and asked, “Shall I cut it off?” Stunned at her offer, he just stared at her for a long while. “No,” he said with finality. “I would never shame you like that. Never. Anyway, I like the way it feels on my belly when you’re sucking my cock.” She laid her head back on his shoulder. “Are we truly going to have a baby?” “Truly. I will tell you a secret, dearheart. We are going to have two babies. Girls.” When she would have pushed away from him in shock, he held her still. “Shh, shh. It will all be well. Trust me.” “Arano, I don’t know how to take care of two babies,” she protested. He smiled into her hair. “I will be here. You won’t be alone.” Deep inside her pussy, he could feel her schela firm and tighten around his cock. Rhythmic ripples ran up and down the length of his cock, tugging and twitching so that he swelled and hardened almost to the point of discomfort. He shifted and pressed deeper. “Are you angry? I can’t seem to make it stop.” “Of course I’m not angry. I like it. Anyway, I’ve told you to do anything you wish. I love it when you touch me. I love it when your schela grabs my cock and locks us together. I hope we do this a lot.” She sat up and ground her pussy against him, her breasts bouncing gently as she rocked on him. Reaching up, he toyed with them tenderly, watching her face. When the nipples were tight little points, she moaned quietly. “Silence, lean down here a little,” he said, urging her to support herself with her arms stretched out above his shoulders. “Now, try it like that,” he suggested softly. When she was rocking against him with abandon, he cupped her breasts in his hands and carefully pushed them together. Then he raised his head from the pillow and sucked both nipples at once while flicking his tongue across the tips. She screamed at once and he felt her convulse around him in wave after wave. He continued with his loving assault and felt the soft convulsions 78
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ripple on continuously until her arms refused to support her and she collapsed on his chest just as his cock began to spurt hot and hard deep against her womb. “I think I am dying,” she gasped out. He rubbed her back slowly in long strokes until she was almost breathing normally. “You didn’t like it?” he asked with gentle humor. “Oh, yes,” she stammered, “I liked it! Why have you never done that before?” “I didn’t want you to be afraid,” he replied quietly. “I don’t ever want you to be afraid, Silence. I love you.” She sat up and regarded him with serious intensity. “Arano, I think you are afraid that I will remember things that Homer did to me and be afraid with you. Isn’t this what you are thinking?” “Yes,” he admitted with a reluctant smile. Gods of the ancients, he loved her! “I will not be afraid! I love you and you love me. You will show me how to love you and touch you and I will not be afraid. Will you do this, please?” Her steady gray eyes searched his dark ones for a long time. Finally, convinced of her trust in him, he agreed, “Yes, I will show you. But you must agree to tell me if you don’t like something. Will you promise?” She laid her head back down on his chest. “Oh yes, I promise because I know there will be nothing I don’t like.” Then shifting until she was comfortable, she fell into a deep sleep. He held her contentedly for a while, just happy to be with her, before he joined her in late morning slumber.
***** Dai’s Retreat was hidden deep in a long narrow canyon. The bottom of the canyon was thickly forested with bright red pines that 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 crosslegged 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.”
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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. Tyger dipped his fingers in the water and scooped one up, tossing it on the bank. Bish copied him and with delight found that he also caught a fish, though his fish flopped back into the water because he didn’t toss it far enough on the bank. They each caught one more fish and then tossed their branches back on the bank. “See? We don’t need hooks,” Ty teased. Bish just shook his head while he scooped up the fish and dropped them into his basket. “Sometimes I think Dai sets me up on purpose. I spend more time feeling dumb and stupid than I ever have in my life, especially in the week since we’ve been down here.” “Perhaps he’s waiting for you to admit that you’re lost,” Ty ventured. “You can’t learn until you’re ready to admit that you don’t know something. Dai won’t waste his time trying to teach you until you’re ready.” He shrugged. “He could have helped me months ago when schalzintelo began but I wasn’t ready. I denied what was happening. So I suffered until I was willing to ask for help. Worse than that, I tried to take my life and endangered Llyon’s. I made my bond mate suffer horribly. That was unforgivable of me.” “I don’t understand you and Llyon,” Bish admitted slowly. “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-asone. It is almost as though we were one soul split in two pieces. Llyon is necessary to make me complete. And I am necessary to make him complete.” “Don’t you find that very confining?” Bish wondered. “I would want to break the bond and run the other way!” He shuddered in the cool shade on the bank. “It almost seems as though you would devour each other.” Crawling back up on his boulder, Ty tilted his face back in the sun and considered his uncle’s comments. “Perhaps, if we had never had the twin bond and never had the mind speech, the covenant bond would have been more difficult,” he conceded. “But since we have always been two-as-one, the covenant bond was mostly a formality. It allows those around us a way to label us so that they are comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as they can be. It is a bond until death, of course, but we always had that anyway. Someday, may it be far off, when one of us dies, so will the other. Twin-bond pairs are tied together from birth to death.” He shrugged. “For myself, I do not care what others think. Llyon is more sensitive to the disapproval of those around us. For him to offer me the covenant bond, you must understand required an extremely catastrophic circumstance. It took great pressure to do so. Only my suicide attempt could do that to him.” 80
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“What if he changes his mind now that you’re safe?” Bish asked softly. “I will tell you this thing I would not tell another. You understand that this is not a thing for discussion with others?” Tyger asked soberly. Bish returned his gaze steadily and nodded. “The covenant bond does not require shared desire as the oath-binding does. The covenant may be platonic, though that is very rare. When I go home, I will offer Llyon this choice and it will be as he wishes. But the nature of our bond comes with certain restrictions. If we have a platonic bond we will also both remain celibate unless we choose another bond mate to share. Male or female doesn’t matter but we must make the choice together.” His face grew grim. “That is very unlikely.” “What about your feelings, Tyger? Don’t they count?” Tyger smiled sadly and replied very gently, “Not as much as Llyon’s. That is the truth of a covenant bond, uncle.” 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 came in, arguing amicably about who was going to clean the fish. Dai settled it by assigning the job to a silent, surly Arturo. “So you did well, Bish! Four fish for dinner! And you got some fresh air as well. Do you feel better?” “Actually, I do. It was nice weather out there, if a little chilly in the shade. I’m going to go change to dry clothes and then I’ll be ready for whatever you’ve got planned for me next!” Bish announced as he walked down the hall to his room. Dai stared at Tyger quizzically. “And?” Ty shrugged. “We talked. He listened. All is well.” “And the remnants of your guilt about your suicide attempt and regret for your loom?” Dai queried softly. “What of that?” “As you said, it’s gone. Thank you for your guidance, Dai.” “What of Llyon?” he asked steadily, his green eyes most serious. “What will you do?” Tyger’s chinkas clattered as he bowed his head so that Dai couldn’t see his resignation when he confessed, “It was a difficult decision until I searched my heart. And then there was no decision to make. Llyon comes first, always. I will offer him the choice and abide by his decision.” “I do not think you will be disappointed, Ty. I believe that this time alone will be a period of reflection for him also. Separation does strengthen the heart bond.” When he 81
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smiled at Tyger the wrinkles on his face deepened into deep valleys but his bright green eyes twinkled. “In the meantime, chores must be done. While I am talking to Bish, perhaps you will make the bread? It’s been rising and is ready to bake. The vegetables must be cleaned and steamed. I trust you will take care of this?” “This is to be my hairy shera? You know I hate cooking!” “As you said, your penance for hurting your bond mate. I know very well that he will never rebuke you!” When Bish returned in dry clothing, Dai was waiting by the door. “We will go out to the garden,” he said abruptly, leading the way to a stone bench on the other side of his garden. 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 stated neutrally. “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 the return very difficult. 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. 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…”
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“No, I don’t wish! I want to go home!” 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 what that sounded like. “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 the kindliest tone but Bish had a nasty notion that Dai was laughing at him. “I just told you! I don’t want to stay in your sexy baby land utopia. I don’t want a job. I just want to get back to my life.” “Does that mean that you don’t have a skill?” Dai asked with bright interest. Bish exploded again. “No! I do not have a skill!” “Very well. Tomorrow I will take you to Gar. You may help him tend the woolies. It is renewal season and he will need an extra hand.” Dai stood and walked back toward the house as though all was decided. “Listen, old man,” Bish shouted. “I’m not going anywhere except back home!” He stomped after Dai, determined that he was going to get the last word. “Did you hear me?” he roared. Certainly I heard you. I would have to be deaf not to hear you. Dai stopped and stared at him. Since you have nothing to say, you will not talk until I give you leave to. Bish opened his mouth and tried but no sound came out. He turned red with the effort to make even a tiny squeak. When he thought to shake Dai, he found that his arms wouldn’t move. He panicked and tried to run, only to find that his legs wouldn’t move faster than a slow shuffle. When they reached the front door, Dai turned to him, pulled his head down by his chin so he could look him in the eye. I have been most patient with you. Tomorrow you will go to help with the woolies. Tonight you will eat and go to bed. When you show me that you can be civil, you will receive some freedom back. He let go and Bish raised his head. Then they went into the house. The second time Tyger didn’t receive a response from Bishop he took a close look noting the straining muscles and blazing eyes. “You must have really ticked Dai off. He hasn’t given anyone the silent treatment in two or three years,” he commented offhand. “I don’t suppose you’ll take my advice but if you don’t quit fighting it, you’re going to have a really bad headache. And whatever you did to tick him off? Apologize. Soon.”
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Chapter Twelve The next day while Dai was gone to escort Bishop to Gar’s farm, Arturo settled in the garden and worked on new waist pouches for Arano and Silence. He designed them to match, with fancy punch work patterns over dyed leather patches. When Tyger found him there in the sunny garden, he settled on the soft grass with his basket of yarns next to the stone bench. At first, Arturo totally ignored him, before surrendering to the inevitable. He could feel the churning of Ty’s mind. Clearly, Tyger had something to say and just as clearly he was going to say it. With an impatient sigh, he shot Tyger a sharp glance and demanded. “What? What do you want to say?” “Me? I don’t want to say anything. I’m waiting for you to talk.” Ty picked a new hank of yarn from the basket and began rolling it into a loose ball. “Me?” Arturo retorted. “I have nothing to say. As a matter of fact, I was sitting here minding my own business when you came out. There isn’t enough room in the house to work?” “I am waiting for you to talk about you and Arano.” Tyger set the ball down to untangle a knot in the hank. “Clearly, there is something between you.” “There is nothing,” Arturo declared shortly. “Nothing. Arano is bonded and I am sitting here alone listening to your babble.” Deliberately Tyger let the conversation lapse while he finished untangling the knot. His bright red hair, still damp from his bath, was flowing loose down his back. A few strands blew across his face. Impatiently he brushed them back and then he took up the ball of gray yarn and began winding again. “When I was eleven,” he began calmly, “I looked at Llyon and understood that he was my mate. In that moment, I moved from child to adult. It was the day he fell out of the tree and broke his arm. I stood beneath that tree, looking up at that branch far over my head and realized that he could have as easily broken his neck and died. And if he had died, I would have died too because our lives are tied together by the twin-bond. That is the exact moment I understood the consequences of risking my own life.” He flashed a fierce glance at Arturo. “That is what you think you want with Arano. And that is sheer stupidity.” He finished rolling the gray ball and placed it in the basket while Arturo thought about what he’d said. Taking up a green hank, he began another ball. “Llyon and I have much to work out. I love him more than I love myself, although you would never know it and I am hard pressed to prove it after trying to commit suicide. He would have died too, Arturo. I’m having a difficult time forgiving myself for that.” Tyger took a deep
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breath. “That day, when I understood what the twin-bond meant, I wanted to scream and kick and pound on something. Why me?” Arturo ducked his dark head and muttered, “So? Then what?” Tyger frowned. “Mama called me. She very seldom uses mind-speech with us as you know so this was unusual enough for me to be worried. Dai and Papa were working on Llyon’s arm and I was walking around feeling guilty and angry and annoyed because he was hurting and I wasn’t. Anyway, I found Mama out on their patio and she proceeded to set me straight. She explained how special our bond was and how rare it was in the valley. And she pointed out that I would never be alone because I would always have Llyon.” Tyger stopped talking. Arturo slid a glance his way. He was shocked by the tears running down Tyger’s face. “Ty?” “Mama told me that Llyon had heard my temper tantrum and thought I didn’t love him anymore. And the truth is that he still believes that deep down. And why shouldn’t he? I got so lost in schalzintelo that I tried to kill myself and didn’t even think about what would happen to him.” Tyger brushed the tears from his eyes with the corner of his sharda. “You do not have the twin-bond and will never, never have to worry about causing your twin’s death. He has bonded, yes. But you have the same relationship you had before he bonded. You will find your bond mate but that will not change what you have with Arano. So what exactly are you moping around for?” Hunching over his leather work, Arturo shrugged. “Nothing to do with Arano.” “Then what is it?” Tyger demanded. “What’s with the martyr act?” “Martyr? Martyr? I was raped!” Arturo shouted. “And? So was Samara and she was much younger than you and had far more to lose!” Tyger pointed out coldly. “And did she come when she was raped? Did she climax even as she was being forced?” Arturo screamed. “What kind of man am I?” Tyger hauled him down off the bench into his strong arms. Holding him tightly against his chest, Ty rocked his weeping brother as he answered the unanswerable. “Human, Turo. That makes you human. Not bad. Not evil. Just human.”
***** When Dai returned, Tyger was sitting in the garden contemplating the discussion with Arturo. He wasn’t sure whether he’d helped or hindered the situation. He had been shocked and unprepared when Turo revealed what was tearing him up. How was he to answer that cry from the heart? What kind of man am I? Human, loving, generous of heart, humorous, my brother. Why didn’t he think to say those things when Arturo was still out there in the garden?
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Evidently Dai had checked for them first in the house because when he sat down on the bench he quietly inquired, “What happened?” With an angry sigh, Tyger described the scene and explained what had happened. “I didn’t know what else to do!” he declared roughly. “How do you answer that?” “Just like you did, Ty. Oh, I know you thought of a hundred other things to say after he was asleep. And you can say them later. But for that short moment in time, he just needed to know that you still loved him,” Dai observed quietly. “He shared his most private grief and shame with you and you didn’t turn away. You are the brother he looks up to. It will be easier for him to talk about it now.” “Dai, I’ve never felt so inadequate in my life! What if I said the wrong thing?” “Trust me on this. You did fine. What about yourself, Ty?” Dai leaned over and caught Tyger’s chin in his strong hand. Tilting his head back, he looked into Ty’s dark eyes. “How did you feel about explaining the twin-bond to him?” Ty snorted in disgust. “Like a prize idiot. The more I said, the stupider I felt. How did I screw it up so bad? I’ll be lucky if Llyon even speaks to me. I’m not sure I would speak to me.” “There’s no time like the present to find out. It’s time for you to go home.” Dai stood up and stretched wearily. “If you hurry, you’ll be home by sunset. You have a loom to build. Bonding blankets to weave for Wrenna and Trav. And a bonding to mend with Llyon. I would say that you need to get moving.” “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a bossy old man?” Ty grumbled. “Not to my face, so I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Tyger gathered up his yarn, caught by surprise by a huge yawn. “By the gods, I’m tired. Are you sure I can’t stay one more night?” Dai shook his head decisively. “No. You must go home today. I don’t know why but you must be there by nightfall.” Dai’s words had the tiny hairs on Tyger’s neck standing on end. Without further protest, he picked up his yarn basket and headed into the house to pack. Dai rarely made such pronouncements and when he did he was never wrong. It took Ty a very short time to pack. By the time he was ready, Dai had put together a lunch packet so that he could eat on the trail. “Be careful.” Dai’s soft words were all he said in farewell as Tyger went through the front gate. Ty merely nodded as he set off at a jog for Lost Market. When he was out of sight, Dai waited for the young man standing silently behind him to say something. “You sent him away,” Arturo observed with curious detachment. “Was that for him? Or for me?” “Neither. I sent him on as a forerunner while I waited for you to waken. We will both need to be there by nightfall.” Arturo stared at his jloni standing in the gloomy hallway and then shook his head. “If it’s as bad as that, you should have awakened me. Are you ready to go?”
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“As soon as you pack,” Dai replied dryly. “I wasn’t planning on returning home long enough to pack. If you don’t want me to stay here, I’ll pack up and move on when I get back.” “And I should beat you for implying that you wouldn’t be welcome here,” Dai replied sharply. “Fetch your weapons and we’ll leave.” When Arturo turned to stare at him Dai answered the silent questions in his eyes. “No, I don’t know exactly what’s coming. Arano is in rapport with Silence so he’s not available, which means we must deal with it the best we can.” Arturo ran down the hall to his room, quickly snatched up his entire weapons cache and ran back. “Let’s go.” Within minutes, they were hurrying down the path hard on Tyger’s heels. With each passing minute, Dai seemed to become more anxious. After a short silence, he said, “I think you will have to hunt, Turo. I don’t know what yet but that is the feeling I am getting. Tyger will be needed to care for Llyon because it is something very, very bad.” “I can slip into rapport with Arano, even when he’s with Silence,” Arturo offered quietly. Just then, Dai cried out and stumbled on the path. Arturo grabbed for his arm and jerked him upright. “What! What is it?” “Wrenna,” Dai moaned. “A grimahr has attacked Wrenna.” Arano suddenly flooded Turo’s mind with images showing him that there were not one but two of the huge, deadly, blue-and-green striped cats. He saw the action almost in slow motion as first one flicknife struck the grimahr that had seized Wrenna’s leg with his powerful jaws squarely between the eyes. It keeled over, dragging her with it to the ground. Seconds later two more flicknives were buried in the heart of the second grimahr and then Hawke and Llyon ran past a shaking Traveller, completely focused on reaching Wrenna’s crumpled body. “They’re dead,” Arturo told Dai baldly. “Trav got one and Llyon and Hawke got the other one. Arano showed me. Come on. They’re going to need help with the healing.” “Arano showed you? What do you mean he showed you?” Dai demanded. “Since we shared rapport when I was attacked, we’ve been able to share a few other things,” Turo explained reluctantly. “Some of them I won’t discuss, even with you, Dai.” “You share rapport with Arano and Silence?” the old healer guessed. “I would guess that you also share more mind communications than you did before. That would be quite uncomfortable, especially with him newly bonded.” “Let’s just say that I could do without sharing his bed when I don’t have a partner of my own.” Turo walked a little faster, anxious to reach Lost Market.
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“I understand. I have a similar problem when your parents are in seclusion and schalzina,” Dai pointed out with faint humor. “It’s been that way for over twenty years so while I understand, you won’t find that I have a great deal of sympathy for you.” Turo paused briefly to allow Dai to catch up. “But you also understand why I need to leave Lost Market. I’m not ready for a retreat, exactly, but I do need to get away.” “Aye, I understand.”
***** When they reached Lost Market, they could see Tyger running toward the Llewellyn domes. Dai and Arturo separated at the front gate and while Dai went inside to see what needed to be done, Arturo made his way through the milling villagers down to the two grimahr carcasses. Squatting on the ground next to them, he assessed the placement of the flicknives and calculated the strength needed to sink a flicknife through the heavy bone skulls down to the handle. Shooting a thoughtful glance at the boulder where his future bondbrother was perched he speculated on his background and training. Dancer helped Trav to his feet and they began a slow shuffle into the house. Mali Burns came to join him and they silently squatted on their heels next to the remains until the villagers drifted away. Then Mali stared off across the river as he observed, “It would take a very strong man to sink a flicknife like that. A very strong man.” “Or a desperate one,” Arturo pointed out thoughtfully. “Even desperation doesn’t aid accuracy.” Mali glanced around to make sure they were alone. “Traveller is a very dangerous man, my friend. So is his brother, Dancer. I would be very interested to know exactly what they did out-valley.” “I don’t know, Mali. But I think I have a way to find out.” Arturo reached over the grimahr and tugged at the flicknife. It took considerable strength to pull it free. He placed it very carefully in a metal bowl Eron carried down the hill. Mali added the other two flicknives and Eron carried them away for disposal. In a little while, Arano came down the hill to join them. He stared down at the carcasses and soberly informed them, “Llyon said they had moorash disease. Wrenna’s been infected. The rest of this nest will need to be tracked down and wiped out.” Turo squatted on his heels and looked up at his twin. “I take it that you will not be available to hunt them down. Llyon and Tyger can’t because Ly’s exhausted from healing Wren and Ty’s taking care of him.” Turo scratched his chin. “Wolfe is down at Rebaccah’s Promise. So that leaves me as the hunter.” “And me,” Mali announced. “And me,” Hawke said from the gathering darkness behind them. “Hawke? Are you sure?”
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Smiling faintly in the twilight, Hawke just nodded his head. “The difficulty with being a middle child,” he explained patiently, “is that you’re never the first or the last. Your older siblings believe you’re too young. Your younger siblings believe you’re too old. How old were you when you went on your first hunt, Mali?” Mali’s white teeth glimmered in the dusky darkness. “Thirteen.” “And you, Arano?” “Fourteen.” “And I am how old?” Arturo sighed wearily. “Your birthing day is just past so seventeen. You’ve made your point, little brother. Just don’t let anything happen to you or I’ll never hear the end of it.” “Who is the current Champion of the valley warriors?” Sudden deathly silence followed Hawke’s steely question as though they all held their breath. Then Arturo bowed his head. “You are. My mistake, Hawke. We will be grateful for your help.” “When do we leave?” Hawke asked quietly, willing to let the subject drop now that he’d forced them to acknowledge his readiness. “First light. The sooner we track them down, the sooner the rest of the valley is safe.” Arturo stood and stretched. Gesturing at the two grimahrs he asked, “Who’s going to dispose of them?” Mali yawned. “Papa told me that he’ll choose a couple of men and they’ll drag them up to the top of Needle Rock. You want to leave a guard on them tonight?” “Yeah. Sure as we don’t some loco kid will come down here and mess around with the bodies and contract moorash disease. Get two of the senior warrior class to keep watch. Can you arrange it, Mali?” “Already took care of it. Jago and Ernal should be here shortly. They just went home to get their weapons.” Mali yawned again. “Once I get them set up, I’m for bed. Tomorrow’s going to be a long, long day.” “I will wait with Mali. You and Hawke can go. As Mali said, tomorrow will be a long day for you and maybe even the day after that depending on how far you have to track them,” Arano told Turo. “I think you may even have to go as far as the Dark Woods so take plenty of supplies.” After Hawke and Arturo trudged back up the hill to the Llewellyn domes, Arano turned to Mali. “Watch them. Something will happen but I don’t know what yet.” “Well, that’s a helpful statement, Rano,” Mali teased. “Something will happen. Do you want to venture a guess as to whether it will be good or bad?” Arano snorted in disgust. “If it was that good I wouldn’t bother to warn you. Just be careful.”
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“All right. I can do that. And if you get any more flashes of light, make sure you send them Turo’s way. I don’t like the idea of us having to go into the Dark Woods. I don’t like it at all.”
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Chapter Thirteen Pearly light spread across the far horizon when Mali and Hawke met Arturo at the training hall. Mali hefted a pack containing emergency medical supplies and an extra set of clothing. Hawke had the neatly folded hurka, his own clothing and a small kitchen kit. Both young men wore their complete weaponry set including their punch-bows and extra darts. Instead of the normal complement of two flicknife sheathes on each leg, they had four. Arturo nodded approval and slipped on his own pack containing minimal food stores and clothing. He handed each of them a warm rowan roast sandwich on hot, fresh, sunflower bread that Dai had crawled out of bed early to prepare. As they wolfed it down, they set off across the training field toward the Dark Woods. In the beginning the trail was sickeningly clear because of the bloody bits of the grimahrs’ animal victims that were strewn along a meandering trail of destruction. But by the time they crossed the field and entered the leading edge of the Dark Woods, they had to search more carefully. It was late afternoon when they located the grimahr nest in a dense thicket of thorny wachaz bushes. The three men studied the nest in dismay. Their responsibilities were clear and their options were limited. If the nest had been located well away from the woods they would have burned it. But here, deep in the center of the Dark Woods, fire was unthinkable. Chopping their way through the brush would open them to attack. They retreated a safe distance away and set up camp as they considered their options. Mali wove thorny wachaz branches into a sturdy palisade while Hawke set up the hurka and dug out a fire pit. Arturo cautiously gathered fire wood as he scouted out alternate escape routes if they should need them. With the hurka and fire pit in the center of the small clearing and the wachaz palisade completely enclosing them, they settled in for the evening. “We could arrange a series of deadfalls,” Mali suggested as he stirred a pot of stew tossed together from some hastily gathered field vegetables and two scrawny hoppers. “They only have one exit.” “How will we drive them out?” Arturo inquired. “The thicket is so tight we can’t even shoot punch-bow darts through it. And what if they get past the deadfalls?” “Block ’em in there and let ’em starve to death.” Mali’s prompt reply was enough to confirm how angry they all still were. Hawke shook his head slowly. “No. First of all, it would take a long time as they would just attack each other sooner. Secondly, whatever and however we do, it is not our way to be cruel. No justification for that. They are sick. You don’t torture a sick animal—you put it out of its misery.” 91
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“What is your idea, Hawke?” Arturo asked in weary curiosity. Hawke shrugged. “We hack through some of the thicket on the side opposite their run until we can reach the nest with a long pole. Then one of us will poke them with a primitive spear to drive them out while the other two wait to kill them when they come out the other end. There are a couple of good places to hide along the run.” Arturo and Mali studied the plan from various angles and refined it a bit. “Put the hopper remains at the end of the run,” Mali added. “Maybe catch a fresh one in the morning too.” Yawning, Arturo nodded and crawled into the hurka. “We’ll try it tomorrow. Who wants first watch?” Laughing at his brother, Hawke volunteered. “You’re out on your feet, Turo. I’ll call Mali when it’s his turn. You can take the dawn watch.” In the morning, while Mali set snares to catch an unwary hopper or two, Arturo put together a hasty breakfast and Hawke scouted out a place to begin chopping at the thicket. It was nasty, dangerous work. The wachaz branches were flexible and when released from the tense knot they had grown in would whip out with lethal force. They took turns cutting the slender shoots back. When not working on that, the others prepared several rough spears. It was past lunch by the time they were ready to try the plan and the trapped grimahrs had been growling for hours. Hawke grimly wormed his way close enough to stab at the grimahrs from the back of the nest. Once he began poking at them, Mali removed the barrier they had constructed across the run. Of course, it didn’t work out exactly as planned but by early evening, the weary men had successfully wiped out the nest. They still had to dispose of the bodies but that was relatively simple. There were many predators besides grimahrs in the valley. Arturo went to fetch water for a quick clean-up while Mali and Hawke dragged the bodies to the run and pushed them inside as far as they could. It took a while to clear the remains and get back to their campsite. When they discovered that Arturo wasn’t back from the little stream they were using for a water supply, Hawke picked up his punch-bow and went searching for him. The howling and growling of wolvalas as he neared the stream warned him of the kind of trouble Arturo had run into. Before calling out, he crouched behind a tree and studied the bank. They had Turo trapped in a tumbled pile of brush. “Are you hurt, Arturo?” he asked in a low unalarmed tone. “No. But there’s no way out except past them.” “How many do you see?” Hawke counted four but he wanted to make sure he didn’t inadvertently miss one. No need to have one bite them in the ass when their backs were turned. “Four.”
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“All right. I’ve got them. Stay there until I call you.” Hawke worked his way past the clutch of wolvalas until he had all of them in the clear. An eerie silence fell over the clearing and Arturo could hear the harsh breathing of the wolvalas. Then everything moved very quickly. Rapid thunks and yips heralded Hawke’s marksmanship. Before moving to check the wolvalas, he reloaded his punch-bow. All but one was dead and he quickly dispatched that one with his flicknife. “Come on out, Turo,” he called softly as he grabbed back legs and began to drag the limp bodies away from the stream into the heavy woods. The predators would feed well for the next few days. Arturo shakily joined him and dragged the other two wolvalas into the brush before retrieving the water bag and filling it in the stream. Hawke moved downstream a ways, though still in sight and washed his face, arms and legs. After brief consideration, he stripped off his sharda and sandals, set his punchbow within easy reach and waded into the stream for a fast, full-body bath. When he felt reasonably clean, he clambered out onto the bank and dried off with his sharda. He had a clean one waiting back at camp and the bath had been well worth it. Lacing back on his sandals was the work of minutes. Then with his dirty, damp sharda over one arm and his punch-bow at the ready, he rejoined Arturo. Immediately he saw the blood trickling down Turo’s arm. “What happened?” “One of them grabbed me before I got to the clump of brush. He let go when I stabbed him with my flicknife.” Arturo’s dry comments didn’t hide the shaky terror still engulfing him. Hawke knelt down and loosened Turo’s sandal laces before gesturing toward the small eddy in the stream. “Strip off and get cleaned up. I’ll keep watch. You need to clean that arm.” So Arturo followed his instructions, scrubbing his body with the fine sand lining the eddy. When he was as clean as he could get and had bathed his arm in the cool water until the bleeding had nearly stopped, Arturo hopped up on the bank and dried off with Hawke’s sharda since Hawke had set his to soak in the stream. Turo knelt down and rinsed the blood from the fabric before wringing it as dry as possible. Then with a shrug, he wrapped it around the still seeping arm. “It’s destined for the rag bin, anyway,” he said with a crooked smile. “Better the sharda than you,” Hawke replied curtly. “Where’s your punch-bow?” “Back at camp. And before you say anything, I already know how incredibly stupid I was.” “I was thinking tired and edgy but if you want to go with stupid, I won’t argue with you.” Hawke grabbed the heavy water bag and led the way back to camp where Mali was completing supper preparations. Hawke handed Mali his punch-bow and suggested, “Go down to the stream and get clean while I patch up my big brother. When you get back, we’ll eat.” “What happened?”
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“When you get back. Hurry because it’s going to be dark soon.” Hawke turned away and rummaged through the packs on the ground until he found the medical kit. While he soothed on a cool, numbing salve, he quietly observed, “You’re more tired and emotionally wrung out than you realize. It’s been a bad spring and summer for you and pretending that life is normal or that you have recovered will not make things better. You should go back down to the retreat with Dai.” “I don’t think Dai’s going back anytime soon,” Arturo said humbly. “Wrenna is seriously ill and Trav re-damaged his legs terribly trying to reach her in time. They will both be recovering for a long time.” “Then you and I should go on a soul walk.” Hawke tied the last knot in the bandage and placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You are not the only one with questions that have no answers.” He stood and went to stir the bubbling stew pot on the low fire before he turned the three roasting hoppers. “But a soul walk? We would be gone for a long time.” Turo sank down on the rough mat in front of the hurka while he tried to force his tired brain to think. “Dancer is out of seclusion. Papa is out of seclusion. Llyon and Tyger are out of seclusion. There is no need for us to stay and a great need for us to leave. Are you afraid to find out what your destiny is?” Hawke turned to face him across the fire. “Fear will paralyze you and kill your soul. Will you let it control you?” “No!” “Well, then. Shall we plan our journey?” Surrendering to the inevitable, Arturo slowly nodded his head. “All right. But first we return home and reassure them that the grimahrs are dead.”
***** At the north end of the valley, a lonely man stood on the highest scaffold at Talking Wall waiting for the moon rise. He missed his mate, though he was honest enough to admit that it wasn’t so much that he missed Daveen himself as the companionship that Daveen brought. Ban sighed. Until the Gathering, he had thought himself content. And then an authoritative youngster with long black hair and flashing black eyes had caught his attention and now like a love-sick dinti, he yearned for things best left alone. He had observed and listened carefully when the name Arturo entered any conversation. Arturo Llewellyn—garzhan, single, gifted warrior and morkert. Ban sighed again with a heavy heart. Such a young man, such a gifted man would never want to spend the rest of his life at Talking Wall. None of that even took into consideration the brutal attack he had survived. No…better to set his heart on something more attainable than to dream about Arturo’s broad muscular chest with the incredibly soft blue skin. Best not to imagine licking the delicately curved ears. No good would come from wondering how thick or long his kzusha was or how hard he would get in Ban’s calloused hands.
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Ban shook his head in derision. Stupid man! It had been a long day and tomorrow would be worse. Today they had deciphered a huge section of the wall that evidently pertained to various types of oath-bindings. Everyone down to the lowliest apprentice was excited about the possibilities. There were tantalizing hints that there was a way for widows to have the oath-binding with a second mate. He climbed down the scaffolding carefully, not anxious to meet his end the way his mother and Daveen had. It was a long, fatal fall from the top. When he reached the bottom, he slowly picked his way through the encampment which still resembled temporary housing even after a presence of forty years. That was why he had taken the time to travel to the Gathering. After all the years of waiting, the valley council had voted to install permanent housing at Talking Wall. Ban just shook his head. There had been some objections to the cost but he had convinced them that the adobe domes like those in Lost Market would be the most cost effective, and already there were workers arriving to survey and lay out the first buildings. They wouldn’t all be ready this winter but by next winter, everyone would be within permanent shelters instead of patched and tattered hurkas. The first buildings to go up would be a kitchen with dining hall, a medical facility and a lab complex for those working on translations. It was an ambitious project but all of the Talking Wall residents were excited about it. As he passed the open domed shelter that housed the kitchen his co-leader hailed him from one of the rough tables where their team leaders were sipping tea. “Ban, come here! You’ll never believe what Inigon has deciphered!” Reluctantly, Ban moved into the light and joined them. “What do you have, Inigon?” “A list of the Talking Walls in the valley.” Inigon spoke very quietly as he was well aware of the significance and shock of his discovery. “It lists four in total. Three are marked as forbidden and hidden with a prohibition against taking down something referred to as a “veil”. The locations are not given but it does list a summary of contents for each.” After a brief breathtaking silence, Ban asked, “Who knows about this?” “Everyone seated at this table.” Villam, his co-leader sighed and knuckled his eyes. “We will need a representative from the council.” “Uh-hmm. It would be nice if he was familiar with the old language but I suppose that’s too much to hope for.” Abruptly Ban drummed his fingers on the scarred table top. “Maybe a representative will get us some extra hands to work on the shelters.” “He? Why should it be a he?” one of the female translators demanded. “Because,” Ban explained patiently, “almost certainly they will send a warrior who is a morkert. He.” Ban stood up and cautiously stretched his weary joints. “The nearest council representative is over at Rebaccah’s Promise. I’ll walk over there tomorrow and present our case. Inigon, can you have a summary ready for me in the morning?”
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Inigon sighed and nodded. “Another late night. But at least I’m not the one hiking over to the Promise.” “Then, I will bid the rest of you good night with a gentle reminder that this will stay among those at this table for now.” “Good night, Ban,” they chorused before turning back to their tea and conversation. Later, as he stretched out on his rough pallet under the night sky, Ban wondered what the new representative would think of sleeping outside and he almost laughed. Almost.
***** Early dawn crept into the blue dome on tiptoes. Arano and Silence slept the sleep of the weary. When a stray sunbeam struck Silence in the face she stirred restlessly before suddenly sitting up. Holding her hand over her mouth, she hastily climbed out of bed and ran to the bathing room. Arano woke when she hopped out of bed and sat up. Seconds later he clapped his hand to his mouth and ran down the hall out on to the porch. Both were sick for several minutes before they were able to stop. Arano went back into the dome, slightly green around the edges, and checked on Silence. Miserably, he found washcloths, wet them with warm water and cleaned first Silence and then himself. “Silence, go back to bed, dearheart.” She moaned. “What’s wrong with us?” He sent her a pathetic smile. “Morning sickness. It’s because we are having babies.” She was appalled. “Why are you sick, then?” He tucked her in the bed. “I am sick because you are pregnant. Remember I told you that I feel what you feel because of the pledging? Well, this is one of the things we will share.” With a little frown, he went to the kitchen to make them some tea. After filling the kettle with fresh water, he set it on the hot rocks in the hearth. He found mugs and the little gauze squares for the tea. After measuring out the herbs onto the gauze squares, he tied them tightly and placed them in the mugs. By then the water was hot and he poured it over the tea bags. While it steeped, he found the bread and cut one slice, toasting it over the hot rocks. When the toast was done, he dipped a little honey into the mugs and carried the little tray down the hall to the bedroom depositing it on the table next to Silence. “Move over just a little, Silence,” he begged. He helped her sit up and handed her a mug and small chunk from the toast. “Sip the tea and chew the toast very slowly. Then we will go back to bed for a while. It will help the sickness.” She shuddered for a few moments but kept the tea down. “When Llyon comes today to check on you, I will ask him for something to help with this,” he said. “We will get sick more than once?”
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He nodded. “Maybe for one or two moons. Mama and Papa were once sick for nearly four moons. I think that was with Panther. Dai gave them a special tea to help.” “Arano, why does a baby make us sick?” she asked plaintively. “I didn’t know babies made you sick.” “I don’t know for sure. I just know that it is. You will see. We will feel better this afternoon. Are you done with your tea?” She handed him her mug and lay back down. He carried the mugs back to the sink and then came back to bed and crawled in next to her. When they woke later in the morning, it was a repeat of dawn. Wearily, Arano fixed the tea and toast again, got Silence to drink and eat, and they went back to bed. In the early afternoon, Llyon arrived in time to help with the third time around. After making them as comfortable as he could, he opened the windows to air out the bedroom and called on Merlyn to send some supplies down to the dome. As an experienced mother-to-be, it was Jade’s idea to send Robyn down to help them for a couple of days until the new teas helped settle their stomachs, so with relief, Llyon gave her instructions and left them in her care. Three days later, when he returned, Robyn had careful notes for him. They were consistently sick until late afternoon and then they were fine. Arano gave his brother a wobbly smile. “I do not know how Papa managed this for twelve pregnancies,” he said wanly. “I think I’m not very good at being sick and Silence is completely worn out.” Trying not to laugh at his younger brother, Llyon assured him, “It will get better. I brought you a different mix of herbs I want you to try. I’ve shown Robyn what to do. Also, I made you these dry biscuits. Try them instead of the toast. And finally, Mama says that you’ll do better if you eat a little of the biscuit before you even lift your heads, so try that.” When Llyon went home, he had to stop several times on the path and laugh. Arano was such a tough, masculine young buck that the very idea of morning sickness laying him low was hysterically funny. Every time he remembered Arano’s autocratic stance in the circle when he pledged with Silence, Llyon had to stop and laugh. Not for the world would he ever say anything to Arano but he figured he probably ought to take his amusement where he could. It took another two eight-days before they hit the right combination of herbs and biscuits but eventually they got it right and Arano and Silence settled into a more tranquil seclusion.
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Chapter Fourteen Hawke and Arturo had been on their soul walk for two eight-days when they staggered into Sunrise just north of Sanctuary Hill in search of new supplies, a hot bath and medical care. Bare minutes after they stopped at the village bakery Joseph Marks the council member from Sunrise hustled into the shop and declared, “There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Arturo and Hawke looked blearily at each other in complete mystification. “Us? You’ve been looking for us? Why?” “Arturo, you’ve been reassigned to Talking Wall. Your papa said to tell you that it might be a good thing to take young Hawke along with you.” Hawke frowned at Joseph and respectfully objected, “We’re on a soul walk. Nobody is allowed to interrupt a soul walk except for an emergency.” “I assure you, young Hawke, that this is very, very important. We the council are aware of your soul walk. As soon as possible, we will arrange for you to resume your soul search but for now we need you in Talking Wall.” Joseph’s earnest assurances convinced them that the need must be great. Arturo took a deep breath, straightened his aching back and nodded. “Fine. It’s too late today to reach Talking Wall. We need a place to stay, a hot bath and a hot meal in that order.” Eagerly Joseph nodded. “Excellent. You will stay at the village guest house. It has a complete bathing room with hot water,” he added proudly. “By the time you’ve bathed, I will bring your food.” Motioning for them to follow, he led them to a single room stone hut. While quite unprepossessing on the outside, it was clear when they stepped indoors that considerable work had been done to make it not just habitable but comfortable. “If you leave your laundry at the door, your clothing will be ready for you in the morning before you leave.” With that parting word, Joseph left them alone. “Now what could be that important?” Hawke demanded as he prowled around the small hut, peeking out the two blurry windows at the deserted square. “What is going on and why didn’t Papa just call us instead of waiting for us to wander into one of the villages?” “I can’t begin to guess. But while you’re trying to figure it all out, I’m going to take a bath.” Arturo dragged himself into the small bathing room and shed his clothes into a heap on the floor. While the tub filled with hot water, he stripped the chinkas from his braids and loosened his hair. By the time he climbed into the tub, he was so stiff he could barely move and his ankles were killing him. The walk down off Sanctuary Hill had been rough and difficult and his tumble down the final slope hadn’t helped. He groaned as the heat sank deep into stressed joints. 98
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Hawke came in and perched on the toilet seat studying him with concern. “Shall I go fetch the healer? You’re going to have major bruises tomorrow.” “No-o.” Arturo scooted down until his head was under water and then sat back up with it streaming down his face. “I figure if I soak for a while, have a decent meal and sleep in a real bed, I’ll be okay to walk up to Talking Wall tomorrow. Actually, the walk will probably be good for me.” Hawke was keeping a sharp eye on him and caught the wince and grimace on Arturo’s face when he tried to reach over his head for the soap jug sitting on the shelf. Without a word, Hawke lifted it down and handed it to Arturo after scooping out enough to wash Arturo’s hair. In what might have been a humiliating move with any of his other brothers, Hawke gently scrubbed his scalp, rinsed his hair and then finished by washing his back and lower legs. When he touched Turo’s damaged ankles, he thought his brother would scream. By the time he finished, Turo was trembling with fatigue. Hawke went to answer the quiet knock at the door, admonishing his brother on the way to call him when he was ready to get out of the tub. Arturo would rather have climbed out of the tub on his own. Two eight-days before when they left on their soul walk, he might even have tried. But something had happened in that sixteen days that allowed him to accept whatever help he needed. It was a humbling experience. Perhaps it was easier because Hawke was so matter-of-fact about his help. Arturo only knew that it was less difficult to ask for assistance than it had been before. And so, when he heard the outer door close, he didn’t hesitate to call Hawke’s name. Immediately, Hawke was there with a pile of bathing sheets in his arms. He dumped them on the toilet seat and in one astonishing move he lifted Arturo from the tub and sat him on the broad side of the tub. “Gods of our fathers!” Turo exclaimed. “How did you do that?” Leaning down to rest his forehead against his brother’s Hawke pointed out, “Turo, you’ve lost so much weight you probably don’t weigh as much as Panther. You don’t eat enough. You don’t sleep enough. And now you’re covered from head to toe in bruises. I’ve sent for the healer and you’re going to like it.” “Right,” Turo mumbled just before he slithered to the floor in a limp heap.
***** Bright sunlight shafted through the window forcing Arturo to squint when he opened his eyes. Something about the sunlight bothered him until he realized that the last thing he remembered was sitting in the bathroom at dusk. When he tried to roll onto his side, a groan in his chest ripped out in response to the burning agony in his ribs. “Don’t move,” a deep voice he didn’t recognize rumbled. “I’ll fetch the healer.” After several more attempts, Arturo was able to keep his eyes open long enough to determine that he was still in the guest hut at Sunrise. The healer, a petite, gray-haired 99
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woman, bustled in with a steaming mug. “Lift him up so he can drink this,” she directed the tawny-haired giant that followed her. Arturo recognized Ban from the Gathering and tried to puzzle out why he was in Sunrise. “Where is Hawke?” he asked between yawns and cautious sips. “We’re not sure. Evidently, he put you to bed and fetched Alcy. By the way, this is Alcy, your healer. Once she had things in hand, she turned around to say something to Hawke and he was gone. He left a short note telling her to get in touch with me.” Ban quirked a curious eyebrow at Turo. “Do you know why he left my name?” Very cautiously Turo shook his aching head. “No—unless your name was the only one he remembered from Talking Wall. Old Joseph told us we were supposed to report to Talking Wall for some secret assignment.” “You’re the morkert they sent us?” Ban’s appalled expression told Arturo that there was considerably more to his impromptu assignment than just showing up. “It would appear so,” Arturo confirmed wryly. “From the way Joseph talked, it was important enough to interrupt our soul walk. Since they had no idea where we were, it strikes me that they were specifically choosing me for this assignment so there must be some reason I’m needed.” When Ban helped him lie back down, though the pain medicine was beginning to work, he still couldn’t quite suppress the grunt of pain. “As for Hawke, he hasn’t said his vows and is perfectly free to continue his soul walk. I suspect he was keeping me company but would have preferred being on his own anyway.” Alcy straightened the covers and placed a cool palm on his forehead. Almost instantly, his pounding headache eased. “Your brother told me you fell down a hill. Actually,” she amended, “he said you bounced down a rocky slope at the end of Sanctuary Hill.” Ban winced involuntarily at that image. “When will he be able to travel?” he asked without much hope. “Depending on your nursing skills, he could be on his feet in two or three eightdays. Traveling? Add another two or three eight-days unless you’re going to pull him in a cart.” Alcy bent her head back to stare up at him. “Of course, if you want him to be in any shape to do anything when you get there, I would recommend the cart regardless of how long you give him to heal.” “What? Give me a few days and I’ll be back on my feet!” “That’s exactly what Dai said,” Alcy retorted grimly. “Well, young man, you walked into my village on two cracked ankles, though no one can figure out how you did it. I could heal them, I suppose, but too many healers have used their skills healing you only to have you go out and abuse your body in some new way. I won’t do it. The ankles are immobilized and will stay that way until you heal on your own.” She shook a finger at him in emphasis. “Maybe if you can’t wear yourself out, you’ll eat and rest and end up looking less like a scarecrow than you do now.”
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“Then may I amend the question?” Ban inquired impatiently. “If I pull him in a cart padded like a peekie chick and if I promise to stuff him like a baby bohras and to tie him to my bed when we get there, when can he travel?” Alcy pursed her lips in thought. “Four days, maybe. The cracked ribs will make travel very uncomfortable. Let’s see how he’s doing then.” “Excuse me!” Turo interrupted through clenched teeth. “I’m right here in the room. And I should have something to say about traveling plans.” Lips twitching in an almost–smile, Ban stared down at his grumpy mate. Oh, yes, he knew from the time he walked through the door and realized who was sleeping in such pain and discomfort that this man was destined to be his mate. “When you are healed enough to walk away from me then you will have something to say. Until then I’m in charge.” “Not likely,” Turo snarled. Ban bit his lip to hold back the laugh struggling to bubble out. “My dear Arturo. You will do what I tell you to do, eat when I tell you to eat and sleep when I tell you to sleep or I will summon your jloni to take care of you.” “Shit.” “Exactly.” Ban did smile at him then. “Your tea has had time to ease some of your pain. Are you hungry?” “Bathing room,” Arturo croaked. “All right. Alcy, if you will find someone to bring breakfast, I will see to Turo.” “Don’t wait on my account,” Alcy replied tartly as she went to the door. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen a kzusha and I doubt his is anything to talk about at the moment.” “But it’s mine sweetheart, and I don’t want to share.” Ban flung the covers back and slid his arms very carefully under Arturo. Lifting him with tender caution, he carried him into the bathing room. By then, Turo’s foggy mind had processed Ban’s words. Groggily he tilted his head back so he could see Ban’s face. “What in the name of the ancient gods are you talking about?” “I didn’t think to find another bond mate in my life time and you’re much too young for me but destiny has no age limit, it seems. We will be bond mates when you’re ready. In the meantime we have been given this opportunity to know each other.” Ban covered his mouth in a sweet, swift kiss before settling him on the toilet. Backing out of the bathing room he pulled the door nearly closed, leaving Arturo to wrap his tired brain around the whirlwind changes in his life.
***** With painstaking care, Hawke picked his way back up the slope of Sanctuary Hill. It wouldn’t do for him to have an accidental fall while alone. By the time he summoned 101
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help, it might be too late. When he reached the summit, he turned back to look over the wide valley. Off to the left, the river glinted in the sun. Far off past the river he could make out the rising hump of Hywel’s Mountain with the rusty colors of changing leaves. Soon it would be deep fall and the nights would be cool. With a long breath, he turned and resumed his journey across the flat top of Sanctuary Hill. Ahead of him, his destiny waited, shining with promise and weighty as the judgment seat if he had the courage to grasp it. He walked with purposeful intent into the cool shadows of Sanctuary Preserve.
***** Light stones outlined a large circle on the training field across the river from Lost Market, illuminating the small knot of warriors in a cool glow. Dancer led the others through a simple warm-up routine before beginning the difficult assessment and training they needed. There were so few, he thought. So few to guard the village. Trav and Wrenna were in seclusion after their very tranquil oath-binding. Arano and Silence were in burda. Arturo was on his way to Talking Wall. Wolfe was training at Rebaccah’s Promise. And Hawke? Hawke was hidden from them, shrouded in a veil of mystery that not even his mother could penetrate. All that were left to protect the family were Dai, Merlyn, Tyger and Llyon. Dancer shivered with a sudden premonition of danger. They were running out of time. The young warriors were going to have to grow up fast if the Valley was to survive. With sudden determination, Dancer turned to his students. They were in for a rude awakening. Tonight he would show them exactly what they faced when the out-valley warriors arrived.
***** Deep in rapport and burda, Arano stirred uneasily crying out in the darkness as the vision crashed over him. Hawke, stalking stealthily down a long tunnel with his punchbow at the ready, moving through evenly spaced circles of light. Trapped in the vision, Arano struggled to call out but only Silence and Arturo heard his cry. “Shhh,” they cautioned him. Hawke turned a corner and was lost from view. Arano saw a flare of light and then the vision faded. Abruptly, he was awake and shuddering in the cold shadows. Silence stirred and her schela gripped his cock in a hot, slippery squeeze. Muttering in her sleep, she wiggled until her bottom was welded to his belly. He cuddled her tightly and thanked the ancients for their gift of his bond mate. What would life hold for them? he wondered. Silence rubbed her head against his shoulder and whispered, “What’s wrong?” Shivering, he brushed the top of her head with his chin and then kissed her there. “It was a vision with Hawke. I don’t know where he was or what he was doing,” he replied softly. “He was alone and armed, stalking something in the shadows. Then I woke up.” 102
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Twining their fingers together, she pulled their hands up to cup her breasts and said, “Hold me. I need your hands on me.” “Ah, gods of the ancients! Don’t you know that I’ll hold you forever?” he assured her. “I plan to die in your arms as a very, very old man.” Her nipples were tight under his palms so he gently plucked and tugged at them and she arched in his arms. “Arano! Put your kzusha in harder!” They curled tightly together as he slid his bent knees between her legs and rocked his hips, thrusting harder and deeper against the clutching contractions of her schela. Suddenly, she gripped his cock so tightly he cried out at the searing heat. His seed poured out, flooding her as the soft mhital at the entrance of her womb gently nibbled the head of his cock. Rippling convulsions massaged his cock as she came over and over. The constraints of burda recaptured them and once again they sank deep into the bonds of rapport and sleep where Arano forgot about the disturbing vision.
***** The cold breath of winter exhaled from the openings high on the tunnel walls as Hawke walked from one pool of cool blue light to the next. He carried his punch-bow ready and armed but something—some deeply embedded knowledge—told him he was safe, safe in a way that he had never been before. He reached the end of the tunnel and turned the corner. In a wide circle of light a glittering turquoise and purple drang patiently awaited his arrival. All around the edges of the circle a host of drangs in a flashing rainbow of colors sat humming with anticipation and excitement. Hawke bowed respectfully to the central drang and waited. “I am Aristotle. I chose you the day you were born,” the drang announced in a husky, smoky voice. “You are mine and I am yours. Do you accept the bond?” The small dragon placidly accepted Hawke’s deliberation and contemplation. He valued the idea of intelligent compassionate judgment. After a long silence, Hawke inquired, “The legends are true then? A drang will herald a new High Clan Chief?” “Yes.” “And I will be the High Clan Chief?” Hawke pressed. “Yes.” “Why? Why me? There are others far better qualified.” Hawke suddenly sat down cross-legged in front of the drang and bent his head. “Why me?” “Because you are a leader with humility. A warrior with compassion and judgment. You value excellence without pride. And you have knowledge, wisdom and intelligence without the fault of arrogance. It is true that there are others with some of those qualities but none with all of them.”
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Hawke’s bright red braids clattered when he shook his head. He lifted his face and the drangs saw the glitter of tears in his turquoise eyes. “I am not worthy of your honor, Aristotle. I am a good warrior. Let me guard your new leader instead.” “You are that leader, Hawke. Later you will choose a warrior to stand by your side. Already you know the identity of your bond mate. And you will not have to look for advisors for the entire drang council is at your disposal. Will you accept the bond?” Instinctively, Hawke knew he must make this decision standing. When he stood once more before Aristotle, he asked a final question. “When must I become the High Clan Chief?” “When you are ready to accept this burden, you will know it is time. Until then, you will continue to train and learn the things you must know.” Pale silvery smoke trailed from Aristotle’s nostrils, betraying how anxious he was for Hawke to accept his destiny. Finally, Hawke took a great shuddering breath and nodded. “I accept the bond.” “Place your right hand in mine.” Without hesitation, Hawke gave him his hand. Aristotle sliced across the palm with a razor-sharp claw, sliced his own and then meshed the matching cuts in a firm clasp. There was a searing sensation accompanied by sizzling heat. “It is done. This is my chosen one. Let none harm him. Let him prosper in all that he does.” Aristotle released him and Hawke curiously studied the bright purple scar on his palm. To his surprise it was not a straight line as it should have been but rather a small drang burned into the center. “It is my mark,” Aristotle explained quietly. “When the time comes, none will deny you.”
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Chapter Fifteen By the time Ban walked into the Talking Wall encampment dragging the cart with Arturo behind him, the builders had completed a small adobe guest dome at the edge of the camp. It was an ingenious single room dwelling complete with bathing room, kitchen area and sleeping area. It was the first building in Talking Wall with an indoor toilet, running hot and cold water, and cooking facilities. After consulting with Villam, they had coated it with pale green sealant inside and out. One of the carpenters had put together a bed frame and small table. With the addition of some baskets, shelves and two chairs Arturo had a reasonable place to continue his recovery. Ban was still processing the unexpected information Arturo had given him. Three days after his arrival in Sunrise, Turo was finally coherent enough to demand some answers. Ban explained their discoveries and sat back to wait for Arturo’s reaction. It was not what Ban expected in the least. “Veil, huh? I suppose that’s better than what we called it.” Turo nibbled on one of the small cubes of cheese that had been provided on his afternoon snack tray. “It’s more poetic I think.” Starring at him in confusion Ban asked reluctantly, “What did you call what?” “Your veil. We called it a screen.” Arturo shrugged. “We had to call it something and Arano said that was the closest thing he could think of but I like the word veil better.” He bit down on an herbed bread stick and chewed thoughtfully. “I guess you don’t hunt much but if you did, you would know about your veil. Every hunter in the valley knows that there are parts of the valley that are shut off by some sort of screen.” Ban straightened in his chair and shoved his hair back over his shoulder. “Tell me about this screen. Where is it located?” Arturo tilted his dark head and slid a laughing glance at his tawny haired giant. “There are a lot of areas with the screens, Ban. One time we speculated that the Valley might be twice the size it currently is if the screens were to come down.” He plucked a dried quoltania from his tray and popped in his mouth, chewing slowly while he considered. “Or, that could be the way out of the valley.” Ban leaned forward and took one of Arturo’s bread sticks. Pointing it at Turo he said, “Don’t even think of mentioning that outside of this room. The oldsters would panic and the younglings would all be out searching. What a mess!” Arturo watched him take a hearty bite of the bread stick with his strong white teeth and he had a sudden vision of that mouth nibbling his chest…and lower down. He ran his tongue across lips gone dry. “What?” Ban asked noticing his wandering attention and glazed eyes.
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“Ummm?” Ban stood up, went to the door and placed the security bar across it and came back to stand next to the bed. With deliberation he unfastened his sharda and tossed it to the side. Arturo’s eye widened as he took in the thick length of Ban’s half-erect cock. Ban gave him a few moments to object and then when it was clear that there would be no protest, he tossed Arturo’s sheet to the foot of the bed and lifted his in his arms. Ban had his doubts about the sturdiness of the chair, so he turned and sat down on the bed with Arturo cuddled on his lap. “Ban?” Turo queried breathlessly, his voice sliding up in an embarrassing squeak. “Turo.” Shivers shook Turo’s body at the deep caressing note in Ban’s voice. And then with painstaking thoroughness Ban tilted Turo’s head back. Arturo’s lips parted in anticipation and Ban covered them, gently thrusting his tongue into Turo’s mouth. After a brief hesitation, Arturo tentatively sucked Ban’s tongue. Ban withdrew while maintaining contact and Arturo hesitantly offered his own tongue. From the bonding classes Turo knew the basics but this wasn’t like practicing with his friend Mali. Kissing Mali didn’t make him feel the same way at all. Kissing Mali never made his chest ache or his cock get hard. For a while, they played tongue tag with Arturo gaining confidence and getting increasingly bolder. When Ban was sure that Arturo was reasonably comfortable with their playing, he trailed those strong calloused fingers down the vulnerable line of Turo’s neck, under his stubborn chin. Smoothing his fingers along the collar bones, he lightly explored the broad shoulders and hard muscles in Turo’s chest until he skimmed across his flat, dark blue nipples. Instantly, they firmed up into tiny points and Turo moaned against Ban’s lips. Ban lifted his head and smiled at his young bond mate. “Like that, hmm?” He plucked at the little nubs until Arturo arched against that devilish teasing hand and then gasped in pain. Ban stopped the tugging and moved on, very lightly touching the heavy wrapping around his ribs. He rolled to his feet with Arturo still in his arms and kissed him again, this time gently. “I want to hold you but you need to be still with those ribs, so I’m going to get in bed with you and hold you while you nap.” Turo stared into those dancing icy green eyes and swiped his tongue across his lips again. “Yeah, let’s do that. Maybe we’ll even do some more kissing.” A sudden lopsided grin lit his face. “Watch out for the splints. If you accidentally kick one of them, you’ll break your toes.” Curled together, they had napped much of the afternoon, waking only when Alcy knocked on the door. In the evening, Arturo had tried to pinpoint the locations of some of the screens for Ban as they discussed the enigmatic words on the wall. But when it was time to sleep, they shared the bed without further words needed. When Ban settled Arturo in the guest hut at Talking Wall, he was quite amused to see his own belongings neatly displayed on the shelves above the bed. His clothing had been stowed in one of the baskets. The bed was made up with a mixture of his own
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bedding and a new set of sheets. Evidently, word of their hand-fasting had traveled quickly. A strange trunk rested against one wall. When Arturo noticed his puzzlement, he quirked a wry eyebrow and simply said, “Mine. From Lost Market.” Next to the trunk were his packs from Dai’s Retreat. With a crooked smile, he shook his head. “It would appear that whatever I might decide, the rest of the family is in favor of our bonding.” “You will have all the time you need, Arturo. When we swear the bonding and become true lovers, it will be because you’ve come to me with a whole heart, trusting me never, never to harm you. Until then, I’m content to be with you as a friend and partner.” He turned and left the hut and Arturo knew in some indefinable way that he had just deeply wounded his bond mate.
***** Less than an eight-day later temperatures plunged in the valley just hours after the first greenhouse dome ever built in the valley was completed in Lost Market. The villagers’ success at surprising Eppie with the large, spacious workspace was mostly due to the location behind the line of trees separating it from the rest of the village. When Dancer nonchalantly led her, blindfolded in the frosty morning air, to the front door where all the villagers were excitedly waiting and whipped off the blindfold at the last second she just stood staring at it in astonished amazement. The lowest third of the pale yellow building was solid wall but the upper two thirds were studded with large round panels of glass in alternating rows. Through the windows, she could see rows and rows of neatly labeled plants lining the shelves that curved around the dome. Beans, peas, tomatoes and herbs. Dancer guided her inside, where she noted the huge, round working counter and desk with high comfortable stools and neatly stowed baskets of supplies. Overwhelmed at the sheer largesse of the surprise, she began to cry. Rather than dismay at this display of feminine tears, the villagers nodded with satisfaction. She liked it. While Dancer held her in his arms, the villagers returned to their homes, pleased with their efforts. “I’m just guessing here but you do like it, don’t you?” he asked huskily. She nodded her head against the warm woolie shera covering his chest. “Great! In that case, cry away.” A smile tugged at his mouth when a watery giggle escaped her. “Ah-hah! I knew there was a smile somewhere in there.” She tilted her head back and kissed him with enthusiasm. “I love you. And I’m perfectly sure that you’re the one that suggested this beautiful surprise. Thank you, love.” “Oh! Well!” he coughed and looked away in vague embarrassment at being caught. “You’ve worked hard and deserved a beautiful place to work.” “As I said,” she whispered against his lips, “Thank you.” Very slowly, she dragged her lips down his chin, nipping and soothing as she traveled along the length of his
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exposed neck when he tilted his head back to provide her busy mouth access. When she reached the folded opening of his pale green shera, she nudged it aside with her chin and burrowed beneath the warm fabric until she found one of his nipples and tugged at it with gentle teeth. “Uh, Eppie? Not that I would want to stop you or anything but have you ever heard the one about glass houses?” “Have you noticed that all the villagers have disappeared?” she countered, amused at his nervousness. “There’s a bed along the back wall that some thoughtful person left in case I grew weary. Suddenly I feel this terrible need for a nap,” she confessed as she loosened the ties of his shera and spread it open, baring his rippling chest for her busy lips. His breath hitched and she felt the distinct rise of his cock against her belly. “Gotcha!” she whispered one of his favorite phrases against his belly as she knelt and unfastened his dark green sharda. Dancer was shocked at how aroused he was at the idea of their total exposure in the glass dome. Anyone could walk by and see them. Anyone could stop and watch. Anyone. “Take off your meerlim,” he commanded gruffly. “If I’m going to be naked in front of the entire village, I’m not going to be alone.” With an impish smile, she stood up and slipped off her heavy rose woolie meerlim tossing it over one of the high stools with his discarded shera and sharda. “Kick off your boots,” he said. Without a word, she slipped them off while he struggled with his own. When both of them stood facing each other naked, he reached for the tail of his braid and removed the leather clip. Long, agonizing moments later, he stood before her with the bronze glory of his hair streaming down his body. She bit her lower lip and then nodded. Tilting her head to the side so that she could watch his face, she reached up and pulled the ornamental hair skewers from her hair, releasing the intricate knot that perched high on the crown of her head. Gravely, she handed him the skewers and shook her head. When the wealth of black waves rippled down nearly to her knees his cock pulsed and seeped in reaction. Dancer had long since forgotten or cared whether one or a thousand people were watching. It was his earnest intent to thoroughly christen Eppie’s greenhouse. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed that was placed under the largest window in the greenhouse. “Now,” he said with smoky heat, “now I’ll make you scream so loudly with pleasure that no one will doubt how we’re occupied.” He knelt between her legs, spreading them so that her bare blue pussy was pouting open and inviting anyone to see. “Hold on to the headboard and don’t let go,” he instructed sharply. Then he swiped his tongue through the soft juicy folds again and again. She gripped the wooden bar running across the head of the bed and arched hard against his mouth squeezing his head tightly between her smooth thighs. “Got you all
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hot and bothered, didn’t it baby?” he muttered as she frantically wiggled against his mouth. “Just the thought of somebody watching me fuck you?” “Dancer! Give me your cock!” she demanded in a low moan. He swished his tongue across her clit in a last lick and sat up on his heels. “Now? Are you sure?” he teased as he placed the leaking head of his cock against her pussy. “We could wait for someone to show up and watch.” “Now!” Eppie wrapped her legs around his waist and jerked at the same time Dancer’s hips powered forward abruptly filling her to the hilt. Unexpectedly, schalzina kicked in and her schela gripped his cock preventing him from withdrawing. He stretched out over her, propped on his elbows and grinned. “Hmm. This is a fine state of affairs. What do you suppose we ought to do until your pussy lets my cock out of lockup?” Winding her legs around his hips, she arched up. “Serves you right for teasing me. You know very well that I didn’t mean for us to stay here.” “Oh? You weren’t on your way to sucking my cock when you unfastened my sharda? Exactly what were you planning, baby?” he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Maybe a little tie-me-down and tickle?” He pressed deep and rotated his hips. Eppie groaned. “Harder,” she urged. “Sweetheart, if I get any further in you, I’ll be meeting our daughter a little early,” he protested with a soft grunt. “I swear—” Dancer stopped when he hear a very familiar pop, pop, popping sound. Dropping flat, he hissed, “Shhh.” “What’s wrong?” she breathed in his ear. “I don’t know but it can’t be good news. I’m going to try to peek out the window. Hold really still.” He rolled until they were on their sides with him facing the glass. Then he pushed up on his elbow and peeked over the wide sill. “Fuck!” Quickly, he ducked back down. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” “That’s about three fucks too many,” she muttered. “What is it?” “We’re being invaded. See who you can rustle up as a posse.” Silently, she picked through the unfamiliar slang and deduced that he wanted her to notify the other warriors, namely Llyon, Tyger, her father and Dai. “How many?” she hissed as him. “I saw four standing across the green behind the weaving dome. I don’t know how many more.” He pushed back up on his elbow for another swift look and groaned when her schela clamped tight behind the head of his cock. He shifted to relieve the exquisite pressure and snatched a quick glance before ducking back down. “Two behind the barter dome. Armed.” “Papa and Mama are in schalzina. Dai is taking all the children across the river,” she reported breathlessly as her pussy squeezed his pulsing cock. “Llyon and Tyger are meeting with the warriors behind the school.”
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He furiously worked through their options and then kissed her fiercely. “All right. Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to wrap your arms and legs around me and hang on like your life depends on it, because it does. I’m going to get off the bed and try to hunch over as low as I can. Then I’m going to carry you over to that desk they built for you. I think we can fit in the cut-out under the desk.” He blew out a quick breath and continued. “On the way, I’m going to try to grab my boots. I need my flicknives.” She nodded carefully. “All right.” “Remind your brothers to send someone to check on Arano and Trav. Both couples are in burda and won’t be able to defend themselves. Ready?” She locked her ankles around his waist, wound her arms around his shoulders and nodded again. He rolled over with them coming to his feet in one smooth move. He kept one arm wrapped around Eppie as he rushed around the desk, snapping up his boots in the other. Ducking down he scrambled headlong under the desk where they ended up in a tangled ball. “Are you all right?” he demanded quickly. She nodded. “I’ll have bruises on my ass. And next time I get to be on top.” “Fine, you’ve got a deal if you carry me.” They shifted around in carefully planned moves until Dancer was sitting with his back against the desk with Eppie in his lap. He slipped his flicknives from his boots and laid them within reach on the floor next to him. “This floor is like a slab of ice. If your schela wasn’t stretching my cock out like a rubber band, it would be the size of walnut,” he muttered. “Yes? Then aren’t you fortunate I have a schela?” She rocked forward rubbing her clit against his pubic bone. “You feel so big when we fuck this way.” “Which is why you like to be on top. I swear if we get out of this in one piece, I’m not letting you out of our bedroom until Ilsa’s born!” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone run past the window hunched over. “Shhh. There’s someone just outside,” he whispered in her ear. They froze, trying to hear any noise over the pounding of their hearts. The door slammed open and they heard a man murmuring fluid curses beneath his breath as he prowled inside. Something about that voice sounded familiar but Dancer couldn’t place it. Do you know who it is? he demanded silently. She shook her head. Not from the Valley. Those aren’t valley curses. I was afraid you would say that. He reached for the flicknives and prepared to throw them if the man circled around the desk. He had a notion he would only get one chance. Just then a radio crackled and a tinny voice gabbled out what sounded like nonsense. Eppie frowned at the noise but Dancer nodded. Ignoring the rippling contractions as Eppie’s pussy massaged his cock he concentrated on the information spewing from the man’s radio. Then the man in the dome shouted, “Fuck you, Fremont! You let them go and no one else will get hurt!”
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Another garbled statement cut off in mid-sentence streamed out in reply. Then there was silence. The man paced past the opening and Dancer readily identified him with a sigh. He emitted a high whistling signal and the man spun around in his tracks with his weapon raised. “If you shoot me, cousin, I’ll have to sic Trav on you.” The man squinted into the dark space under the desk and burst out in clear disbelief, “Dancer? Is that you?” “Dragons rise at summer sunrise. What are you doing here, Runner?” Runner dropped into a squat and he shielded his eyes from the sun flashing through the windows. “Come out, Dancer. I can’t quite see you and no offense, buddy, but anyone could know the code words.” “How many people know your middle name is Cedric?” Are you relaying all of this to your brothers? Dancer asked Eppie. Yes. They said there is a man named Fremont who has been captured. Tell them to be very careful with him. He killed my parents. “Why are you hiding?” Runner demanded suspiciously. “And why are your feet blue?” Dancer sighed and yawned. “Runner, do me a favor? There are some clothes draped over that stool next to you? Hand them in here?” Runner snorted and laughed. “It wouldn’t be the first time I saw you naked.” “But I don’t want you to see my wife naked,” Dancer countered. “Just toss us the clothes.” Runner bounced to his feet and retrieved the clothing, tossing it blindly into the recess. “Now, come out,” he said impatiently. “Not yet. You may as well get comfortable because I have a lot of things to tell you about this valley.” Dancer separated Eppie’s meerlim from the rest of the clothing and draped it over her shoulders. “Sit down and let me tell you a story…”
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Chapter Sixteen Behind Arano and Silence’s dome, Tyger was stretched out on Arano’s favorite perch in the malzhal tree, watching two men watch the dome. In the trees surrounding him several of the level two and three boys were waiting for his directions. Their weapons consisted of a nasty concoction of rowan dung and wachaz thorns stuffed in thin pouches made of woolie gut. When thrown, the pouches exploded showering the recipient with smelly, itchy dung and thorns. The two men hunched behind the stone wall surrounding the dome and muttered into devices attached to their collars. Intermittently the watchers heard squawking responses. Suddenly the men stood up, leaped over the low wall and headed for the dome. Immediately Tyger signaled for his troops to pelt the men with their woolie bombs. Yelping and howling the men dived for the back porch. Tyger shot a barrage of darts from his punch-bow, deliberately holding it just high enough that the darts whistled overhead, thunking into the dome wall behind them. Out in the woods, Mali fired his punch-bow, aiming for the butts that stuck out past Homer’s old trunk. One of the men screamed when Mali’s dart struck home. Then both men tumbled off the porch and headed back to the woods. Tyger signaled for more woolie bombs and a new barrage rained down on the men. One of them stumbled over a root and fell flat on his face while the other ran terror-stricken down the faint path to the village. Llyon’s group of students had been busy in the meantime setting whip traps along the paths to the village. The lone man ran directly into the lethal wachaz whip traps and fell to the ground with multiple wachaz thorns embedded in his legs. Except for the screaming and cursing of the two men, things got very quiet. Every one held their breaths waiting for the next events in the invasion of Mystic Valley.
***** The inhabitants of Mystic Valley had no way of knowing that some of the invaders were actually hostages dragged along against their will. But actions often speak louder than any number of words and it soon dawned on Jago and Ernal that at least two of the men they were watching were in serious trouble. Though none of the young warriors had ever held a gun in their hands, Dancer had coldly and deliberately demonstrated the use of one for them by firing several shots through the wall of their training hall. That certainly got their attention as the wall was thick enough to stop even the most powerful of their punch-bow darts. Jago and Ernal watched an older man stalking down
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the main path, nudging the two much younger men in front of him with a gun. The men in front had their hands cuffed in strange metal rings and the bruises on their faces certainly led Jago and Ernal to believe that they had seen some rough time prior to their entry in the valley. The difficulty was in separating the older man from his captives. Jago slipped through the trees until he located a pookooh tree. Earlier in the week when Dancer had held a discussion regarding using weapons “at hand”, Ernal had diffidently mentioned the pookooh tree. After class when Jago and Ernal had taken Dancer on a field trip to show him the pookooh tree, he had laughed, lightly punched Ernal on the shoulder and told them that the tree was called a ko-ko-nut tree out-valley. And he explained to them that the nuts from the pookooh tree had been used as missiles for a long time. Of course, that led to an entirely different discussion about missiles for Jago and Ernal were eager to learn whatever Dancer could teach them. Now it seemed to Jago, might be the perfect time to use the pookooh nuts for ammunition. He stood close to the end of a branch on a neighboring tree and plucked three of the pookooh nuts, settling them in the carrying pouch he made with his sharda. Then picking his way carefully through the trees to a spot further along the path, he signaled to Ernal to be ready. The man below was so busy pushing his captives around that he had no idea that he was a target. When he reached the tree where Jago waited, the young warrior fired the pookooh nut at the man in a throw that would have done a professional quarterback proud, pounding the man squarely between the eyes. His target’s eyes rolled up and he folded up on the trail like a wet hurka. His captives spun around and one of them swiftly kicked the gun away while the other promptly plopped squarely on his chest. Ernal and Jago dropped down out of the trees, punch-bows at the ready and cautiously approached the little group. For a few tense minutes they stood staring at each other. Then the standing captive, a curly headed blond with piercing turquoise eyes, commented dryly, “Well, if you’re not going to shoot us with those bows, maybe you wouldn’t mind getting the key for the cuffs out of his pocket.” He might as well have spoken Swahili and after another glance at their pale blue skin and pointed ears, that very thought occurred to him so he tried a different tack. “Is there anybody here who speaks English?” “English?” Jago rolled the unfamiliar word around in his mouth. “English.” “Yeah. English.” The blond nodded his head eagerly. “Eng-lish.” Suddenly, there was a hearty laugh from the woods and a deep male voice drawled, “It would almost be worth the price to wait to see how this comedy works out.” The blond spun on his heel and faced the woods, alert and ready as Ham McCrory sauntered out onto the trail his punch-bow across his shoulder. “What did you catch, gentlemen?” Jago smiled flashing his fangs and the blond backed away in a hurry. “We’re not sure, sir. We were just trying to find out.”
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The blond stared from one to the next in bafflement. “What is this, some kind of reenactment? What kind of uniforms are those? And the blue skin is awesome. Weird, but awesome. And the fangs? Oh, yeah!” Ham laughed again. “This is Mystic Valley. And you might say the sharda is a uniform of sorts. It’s what all the men of the valley wear.” He nodded at the two boys. “If you see a man with braids like theirs, then he’s one of the warrior caste, unlike me. I’m just a tradesman.” He gestured to the man on the ground. “Who is he? And why are you in cuffs?” An expression of revulsion crossed the blond’s face and he looked like he might spit on the man. “That’s Fremont Llewellyn. My father.” When he looked back at Ham, there was a terrible glint in his eyes. “I am Nikolas Alexander. And he’s Tracer Devereaux. We’re looking for Bishop Llewellyn or Traveller Devereaux.” “Well, now.” Ham stepped back and whistled. A tall, dark-haired youngster dropped out of a nearby tree and loped over to Ham. “Falcon, tell your brothers that your grandfather, Fremont Llewellyn, is here.” He pointed to the man on the ground and Falcon nodded. Then Ham pointed to the other two. “Tell them we also have as guests Nikolas Alexander and Tracer Devereaux.” Falcon’s dark eyes widened in surprise and he nodded again. In a few moments, the tallest set of twins Nikolas had ever seen trotted down the trail toward them. Their carrot-red hair was a fiery curtain of braids against the blinding backdrop of their woolie chartreuse shirts. Nik’s eyes watered and he blinked furiously trying to stop the tears. One of them dropped to his knees next to Fremont and checked his pulse, while the other stepped forward and nodded his head. “Welcome to Mystic Valley, Uncle Nik!”
***** It was late afternoon before all of the invading force was rounded up. By then, Runner had digested Dancer’s quick explanation of the valley though it took a hearty helping of salt. With a last hard glance at his cousin and wife, still curled up under the desk and evidently involved in something called schalzina, he had gone to meet the little group holding Fremont captive. His arrival solved the problem of the cuffs Nik and Tracer wore. Runner located the key, unlocked the cuffs and used them on Fremont. By then, Robyn had come running down the path and was locked in a heart-rending embrace with Tracer. When Dancer and Eppie finally showed up at the Llewellyn dome, Merlyn glowered at them and suggested, “Next time you decide to provide a demonstration performance, let me know so that I can do the play-by-play.” Never one to back down Dancer snapped back, “At least my children haven’t had the opportunity to watch my bond mate and me in a ménage!”
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Runner’s eyebrows climbed right up to his hair line as he digested that little nugget. Evidently, there was quite a bit to learn about their new home. And it was rapidly becoming clear that for the foreseeable future, the valley would be just that. When Runner and Dai had gone back to check the cave at bond circle five, the passage they had used to enter the valley was gone.
***** At Talking Wall the archivists were milling about outside the domed kitchen tent, waiting for Villam and Ban to arrive with Arturo. Rumors had run through the camp for the past two eight-days since Ban had left for Sunrise. The men arrived with Villam and Ban pulling Arturo in his cart. When the cart was installed under the dome and Villam and Ban were settled at the head table, the rest of the residents slowly took their places until no seats were left. The few stragglers stood around the perimeter, listening closely as Ban introduced Arturo and described the nature of the discoveries from the Wall. “Inigon has translated a passage that indicates there are more Talking Walls,” Ban explained. “According to the passage, there are three more, all hidden by something the passage refers to as a veil.” Murmurs spread through the crowd. “Arturo has informed me that the veils have long been common knowledge among the valley hunters. In fact, there appear to be many areas of the valley that are hidden by such veils.” “How do the veils work?” called out one of the workers. “We don’t know,” Villam answered. “At this point the translation work is far from complete. Arturo is here to consult and assist the translation team with their work. As soon as we have more information, we will inform you.” “There is another discovery we wish to share,” Ban said with a wide smile. “Milkah and Kammi have translated a section detailing instructions for oath-binding for widows and females who have been taken by force.” The sudden babble in the tent was deafening. The leaders allowed the discussions to go on for a while before Ban lifted his hand and called for silence. “I’m sure that most of you understand the significance and importance of this discovery. The clan chiefs from each village will be sending healers to study the texts and they will be responsible for spreading this information in their home villages. We will need volunteers to work with the healers when they arrive. We will also need volunteers to erect another temporary working dome and hurkas for our guests.” Before the residents could overwhelm them with their questions, Ban indicated that he had more to say. “I know all of you have questions. Tomorrow night, a healer from Rebaccah’s Promise will be here to answer your questions. In the meantime, Arturo has arranged for more workers to arrive to work on the permanent domes. We will need more hurkas, latrines and another kitchen dome. Please put your name on Bronwyn’s list if you can volunteer time to work on one of these projects.” He looked around at the
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excited faces in the crowded tent. “Meeting adjourned.” If he was any judge of his people, there would be little sleep tonight. While people lined up to sign up for the extra work details or slowly wandered back to their hurkas, Ban dragged Arturo’s cart back to their dome. “Well, that was interesting,” Arturo observed softly. “They were far more excited about the new oathbinding possibilities than the veils.” “I noticed that too,” Ban agreed. “And you’re right. It was interesting. I suspect you’ve been correct all along. Among the hunters, there’s been a long tradition of the veils. Inevitably that information would filter out through the rest of the populace.” Arturo yawned and then frowned in annoyance. He was tired of being tired. When would he get back to his old self? He didn’t want Ban to think of him as an invalid. Ban noticed the yawn and laughed. “Time for bed.” “I’m not tired,” Turo said grumpily. “I don’t want to go to sleep.” “Who mentioned sleep?” Ban countered. “There are a multitude of things one can do in bed besides sleep.” Immediately Arturo perked up. “Oh? Tell me what you have planned.” “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Ban replied, primly hiding his expression from Turo. “You wouldn’t want me to spoil the surprise, would you?” He halted outside their dome and bent to wedge stones beneath the wheels. Then, as carefully as though he carried fine china, he lifted Arturo and carried him inside, depositing him on the wide bed beneath the window placed high up near the top of the dome. Arturo had informed him that in Lost Market such high windows were called skylights. As moonlight flooded the bed below, Ban could see where the window got its name. “Do you need the bathing room first?” Arturo stared down at the bulky splints on his ankles and scowled. “Yeah,” he said gruffly. Was nothing private? Without a word, Ban carried him into the bathing room, deposited him on the toilet and left the little room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Arturo sat there glumly, wishing he felt better, wishing he had something to offer Ban. What could he possibly bring to their bonding? He had made so many mistakes. Outside, in front of their dome, Ban paced back and forth, wondering if he was pushing Arturo too fast. No, he decided. Arturo was ready for the next step, he was sure, but his injuries were making him feel powerless. What could he do to change that? Ah-hah! He knew just the thing. Turning, he strode back into the dome and knocked on the bathing room door. “Are you ready for me?” he asked. There was a low grunt in reply. With a shrug, Ban opened the door and peeked in. “Was that a yes or a no?” “I suppose it was a yes,” Arturo grudgingly replied. “Did Alcy say how long I have to keep these splints on my feet?”
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“Until the end of the next moon.” Ban’s prompt reply was discouraging to say the least. “Why?” “Because I’m dying for a bath. I itch from head to toe and my head feels like it’s crawling with pilkie bugs.” Pursing his lips, Ban worked them in and out as he considered the possibilities. Then he took a deep breath and demanded, “If I take the splints off so you can bathe, will you give me your word that there will be no arguments when I put them back on?” “You mean you could have removed them before?” Arturo’s outrage was awesome. “You could have removed them, Turo. No one tied your hands, though that certainly conjures up possibilities…” Ban pointed out. When he realized exactly where his unruly tongue had taken him he froze in appalled horror. “I didn’t mean—” “Enough.” Arturo made a sharp gesture and shot him a lop-sided smile. “If you truly want me for a bond mate, you cannot spend the rest of your life trying to spare me from my past.” Speculatively, he stared up at Ban. “As a matter of fact, it might be an interesting experiment someday when I’m ready. In the meantime, if you really meant what you said about the splints, I desperately want a bath. I would do anything for a bath.” “Anything, huh? Well, I’ll have to see what I can come up with.” Ban knelt on the cold tile floor and propped Arturo’s right foot on his knee. With his flicknife, he slit the outer layer of wrappings, laid the flicknife aside and unwound the rest of the long strips of fabric until the two halves of the splint fell to the floor. Gently placing that foot on a folded bathing sheet, he repeated his actions with the other foot. After looking at the peeling and bruised condition of the skin, he could understand Arturo’s discomfort. When the healer from Rebaccah’s Promise arrived on the morrow, he was going to ask him to look at Arturo’s feet. The bathing room was a smaller dome attached to the back wall of the main dome and the bathing tub was a huge oval affair built into the outer wall of the bathing room. From the time he saw that tub, obviously big enough for two people even his size, Ban had speculated that the dome was designed specifically for him and Arturo as a beginning home. While the tub filled with water, Ban collected more bathing sheets and the supplies he would need to reapply Arturo’s splints. By the time the tub was full, he and Arturo were undressed and ready. He lifted Turo in his arms and settled him at one end and then climbed in behind him. The water was very warm but not hot enough to burn and felt so good he could only imagine how it must feel to Arturo. Arturo, for his part, was torn between luxuriating in the hot water and rubbing his back against Ban’s hot slippery chest. He inhaled the scent of the spicy quoltania-mint soap Ban was leisurely massaging his back and shoulders with and stifled a moan. Ban’s hands stole around the ridges of his ribs and slipped up to flatten on his chest. Arturo’s nipples peaked in hard points under Ban’s palms, prompting him to ease Arturo back against his body. With his nose, he nudged Arturo’s hair out of the way,
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baring his neck and shoulder so he could nip and kiss his way up to one tempting ear. He swirled his wicked tongue along the outer curved edge of Turo’s ear while he tugged and plucked at his nipples. Arturo’s body curled inward and then arched back against Ban as heat crawled down his spine and centered in his balls. Spreading one hand wide so he could tease both nipples, Ban slid the other hand down below the water and grasped Arturo’s stiff cock in his calloused palm, stroking and tugging in slow motion. He slipped his legs beneath Arturo’s to keep him from knocking his ankles against the hard tub and bent his knees, lifting and separating Arturo’s legs. Arturo panted and writhed, rubbing his ass against the hard length of Ban’s cock. Impulsively he lifted his arms and shoved his wet hair back from both ears, offering the sensitive curves for Ban’s busy tongue. Ban chuckled and kissed his shoulder. “Like that, huh? Oh, yeah, those ears are blushing and quivering.” Sticking his tongue in the center, he dragged it around the tender whorls until Arturo howled. “I’ve got you now, little mate. Let’s see what else arouses you…” Arturo groaned and frantically rocked against the firm grasp of Ban’s hand around his cock but Ban’s strokes became softer and slower as he soothed Turo’s need. “We’re not going to have our first time together in the tub, Turo.” Panting and whimpering, Arturo twisted his head so he could see Ban’s face. “Then get me out of this tub, because I need you now. I need to touch you and taste you and hold you.” “Because I can make you come?” Ban asked sadly. Turo bit his chin and Ban jerked back in shock. “What possessed you to do that?” “You’re an idiot, Banisher Ewell. Did you not tell me ten days ago that we were going to be bond mates? Do you not feel my heart beating under your hand?” He grabbed a hand full of tawny hair and yanked Ban close enough to kiss him with fierce, angry strength. “I love you, idiot. Don’t ask me why.” Straightening back up, he gathered his wet braids in his hand and pulled them over his shoulder. One by one, he removed the chinkas, dropping them into a clear bowl that sat empty on the shelf above them. One by one, he unraveled each braid until his black hair streamed down into the water in dark ripples. “Lift me up onto the side of the tub,” he requested abruptly. Holding his breath, Ban settled him on the broad lip of the tub and waited with dawning hope. “Kneel here between my knees, please.” Arturo held his legs apart to make room for Ban and when his mate was situated where he wanted him, Turo bowed his head for a moment, considering what he wanted to say. At last, he lifted his head and looked Ban in the eye. “I am not much of a prize, Ban. You know my past. As a warrior and morkert, I have few skills to offer you. The ancient gods know that I have no experience 118
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to offer you as a lover.” He took a deep breath. “What I can offer you is my heart. It’s a bit crumpled around the edges but its healing and it’s completely yours if you want it. I love you. I will formally renounce my warrior’s vows here and now because I would have no commitments, no duties between us except love.” Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. “Banisher Ewell, will you swear the covenant bond with me?” Ban lunged forward and threw his arms around Arturo’s waist. Holding Turo tightly against him, he fitted his lips over Turo’s and kissed him like he never expected to kiss him again. Tongues tangled and thrust and rubbed together, tasting and testing. At last Ban lifted his head, gasping for breath and brushed Turo’s closed eyes. “Look at me, little mate,” Ban whispered. “Look at me when I answer.” Turo took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Ban’s eyes flashed like emeralds and his smile lit up the bathing room. “You’re mine. I never, never thought to have another love. Be very sure, because you won’t get away once we swear the bond.” Arturo snorted. “If I could stand on my own two feet, I would drag you off to the nearest bonding circle and make you swear tonight. Until then, you’ll just have to trust me when I say that I’m sure.” Ban tugged Turo forward until he was tilted over his shoulder and then he stood, water streaming down into the tub. Slapping Arturo on the butt, he advised, “Never offer me a challenge you aren’t prepared to back up, little one.” He wrapped Turo in a bathing sheet and settled him back on the closed commode, while he briskly dried his own body. “We will go tonight and if necessary, I’ll carry you the entire way over my shoulder. I don’t intend to wait one more day or night!” Arturo shot him a look of disbelief. “It’s the middle of the night, Ban. Who will serve as witnesses in the middle of the night?” “Villam can come with us. I’m sure we can find a second somewhere along the way,” he said confidently. “By the time we get there, it will be dawn. If necessary, we’ll wake someone up.” “I see how it is!” Arturo declared in mock horror as he shook his head sorrowfully. “You’re crazy and you’ve hidden it all along until we were hand fasted. Very, very tricky of you.” “Yes. Well whatever it takes to get my man.” Ban carried him out to the bed and went in search of clothing. It was going to be a long night. But the reward was beyond price.
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Chapter Seventeen Frost rimmed the summit of Needle Rock in the icy dawn. Puffs of smoke trailed from the mouths of the men waiting huddled in a circle around the old man. He lay securely bound and still defiant in the face of imminent judgment. The men spoke in turn. The man shook his head and sneered. The men filed down the path to the base of the judgment stone leaving the man alone. Suddenly ripped from the vision, Arano sat up in bed and shouted out, “No!” Still near the summit where Fremont Llewellyn awaited final judgment, Merlyn tilted his head and asked, What is it Arano? Why should we spare him? His breath still sawing in and out harshly from the vision, Arano shook his head and replied, No, Papa. Not spare him but first you must ask him why? It’s important! Why was he so determined to find the valley? Why so many deaths? Please! Ask why? Merlyn climbed back up the last few steps to the summit and approached his father. Fremont sneered at him in disgust. “Couldn’t do it, huh?” “I have come back to ask why? Why have you done these terrible things?” Merlyn calmly queried. “What could be so important that it would justify so many deaths?” “You fool,” Fremont spat in contempt. “I tried to tell you about your heritage— about the book—but you were busy chasing Jade. I gave her the clues and she destroyed her work just like those idiots, Hamilton and Nathan. And then Homer stole the book and followed the clues to find this place. I had to get the book back!” “What book?” Merlyn demanded in bafflement. “What in the hell are you talking about?” Fremont laughed in genuine amusement. “That will be your problem, won’t it? You have no idea what you have here in the valley. And unless you find the book, you probably never will, though I have an idea that Jade knows. She was always creeping around looking at things that didn’t belong to her. I find it an exquisite irony that she can’t see now after it was her nosiness that denied me my heritage.” He shut his eyes and turned his head away. “Go down to your family, Baron Merlyn Llewellyn!” he sneered. “Leave me in peace so that I might contemplate the wonderful prospect of you living in squalor for the rest of your miserable life when you could have the stars. Go away!” With one last look at the father he had never understood, Merlyn stalked back down the path to the base of the judgment seat. There was a terrible rumble and then a blinding flash that lit up the entire village. Smoke wafted from the top, drifting out over the river. The men watched it silently for a few moments, then turned to return to their homes. The judgment seat had spoken.
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***** Much farther north in the frosty cold darkness, Wolfe joined Villam, Ban and Arturo at the edge of Rebaccah’s Promise and they continued on to bonding circle nine. Wolfe was shocked at the sight of Arturo’s hair streaming down his back, unbound and he blurted out, “Where are your chinkas? What happened?” “I have renounced my warrior vows,” Arturo declared firmly. “What? When did this happen? Why did no one tell me?” Ban just shook his head and assured Wolfe, “He’s out of his head. Pay no attention to him because I promise you I will not accept such a sacrifice. The valley is too desperate for warriors to give up even one with broken ankles.” “Oh?” Arturo exclaimed. “Then why have you never taken your warrior vows?” There was a long echoing silence. Then Ban slowly replied, “I’m ashamed to admit that I refused simply because my father wanted so badly for me to follow in his foot steps. It was a foolish, childish choice on my part. If you wish to make the arrangements, I’m willing to do so now.” “Who will stand for you?” Villam grumbled. “I cannot as I am not a warrior.” Ban flung his hair back and looked sideways at his co-leader. “Perhaps my father will. If he is available to travel this far.” “Your father? He’s still alive?” Wolfe demanded. Then Ban laughed. “Oh, yes, he’s still alive. He’s your jloni.” “Dai?” Wolfe staggered and tripped over a root on the trail. Villam grabbed his arm and jerked him upright but Wolfe barely noticed. “Dai is your father?” “So that’s why you felt safe threatening me with him!” Arturo suddenly began to laugh. “Too bad I was so cooperative. I wonder what you would have done then?” “I would have asked him to come at once, little mate. Whatever my father might think of my decisions, neither of us would have endangered you.” Ban stopped at the edge of the stone circle that enclosed bonding circle nine. Tall stone sentinels stood around the perimeter decorated with carved spirals and checked squares twisting around them from the tops to the bottoms in a long unbroken line. In the center of the circle sat a huge flat altar stone with carved spirals and squares running around the top edge. The sequence of nine spirals alternated with the squares was the reason this circle was designated as number nine. There were many numbered circles that had never been located and Ban now suspected that they were hidden by the veils. “Well, little mate? Are you ready?” Ban teased. “I’m ready. How are we going to do this?” Arturo frowned at the cold stone surface and asked, “What are we going to do Ban? I can’t stand up there.”
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Wolfe produced a small folding stool and a heavy blanket. With a shrug, he handed them to Ban. “We’ve discovered that the valley doesn’t seem to care how you accomplish it as long as you’re both up there.” With a nod, Ban accepted the stool and blanket and set them on the stone. Then he rapidly stripped off his boots, shera and sharda, shivering in the brisk wind. The cold temperature was ample incentive for him to move quickly. By the time he had spread the blanket and unfolded the stool, Wolfe had helped Arturo get ready first by removing his splints and then leaving his clothing for last. He lifted him from the cart and handed him up to Ban. When Arturo was settled securely on the stool, Ban knelt next to him took his hand and swiftly slashed Turo’s palm and then his own. Clasping them together, they each said their vows in clear, ringing voices that echoed around the circle. Lightning flickered overhead before spearing down into the circle and lashing their hands. All of the stones turned translucent and lit up with a pulsing blue light as a high keening moan filled the air. Ban and Arturo embraced tightly as a whirlwind appeared from nowhere and wound around them. Abruptly, everything stopped—sound, wind and lights—and warmth filled the air. Soberly, Ban carried Arturo to the edge of the stone and handed him down to Wolfe. That’s when they noticed that the bruises and swelling from Arturo’s injuries was gone. Wolfe settled Arturo in the cart and ran careful hands over his ribs and ankles as Ban climbed down with the stool and folded blanket. “What’s wrong?” he demanded in panic. “Nothing. It seems that the valley saw fit to heal your new bond mate.” Wolfe shot him an amused look. “Now, you’re in trouble my new brother. Deep, deep trouble.” A flash of light far to the south filled the dawn sky with light. The men stared at each other in consternation. Only one thing could produce that flare—the judgment stone. Ban and Arturo dressed and with a faint shrug, Arturo climbed back into the cart. As much as it annoyed him, walking barefoot in the frost wasn’t an option. Until he acquired some footwear, he would be riding. Wrapped in the blanket, he settled back and reached out for Arano, wondering what had been happening in Lost Market.
***** Far below the crest of Sanctuary Hill in the drang cavern Hawke sat with his eyes shut on a thick rug between Aristotle’s legs leaning against his wide belly while they practiced meshing their mind skills, particularly the visual. “Very good,” Aristotle rumbled. “Now we will see what you have learned. Mesh with me and we will see what has been happening in the valley in your absence.” With a nod, Hawke relaxed and allowed Aristotle to lead the way. Like a jerky moving picture, they watched the invasion of the valley. Puzzled, Hawke closely observed the newest inhabitants. Aristotle hissed in laughter. “They are early,” he said with a smoky chuckle. “Fremont has been busy rushing to his demise.”
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“Who are they?” “See, there. Fremont, your grandfather. Nikolas Alexander, your uncle, and Tracer Devereaux, Robyn’s bond mate. The others are your grandfather’s warriors, except for that one there.” Aristotle showed him a strange man in an even stranger building. “That one is David Devereaux, Tracer’s cousin. I see that Dancer and Eppie have found a very inconvenient place to have schalzina.” Mentally squinting, Hawke could just make out the dim figures of Dancer and Eppie hiding under some type of table. Aristotle shifted focus and Hawke saw Arturo and Ban on an altar at a bonding circle. “So your brother has discovered his heart’s destiny at last.” Finally, Aristotle shifted scenes until Hawke saw Fremont bound and waiting on the summit of Needle Rock. The flash seared his inner eye and he flinched, banging his head against Aristotle. “Justice sought and delivered,” Aristotle said quietly. “Now, let us hope there will be time to heal.” Straightening his spine and tilting his head so he could see Aristotle’s face, Hawke asked, “How long will I be here?” “You are merely beginning your training, young Hawke. Never fear for your parents. I have informed them that you are safe and well.” Aristotle’s assistant, Garth moved into the room, halting in the doorway. “Your quarters are ready, sir.” With a soft, soft sigh, Hawke got to his feet and followed Garth.
***** The faint glow of flickering firelight on top of Needle Rock captured Merlyn’s attention. As he dressed he softly touched minds with Jade, telling her where he was going and then walked out the patio door, wrapping his shera around him as he went. When he reached the top, Dai was seated on an old rug, somberly staring into the fire. Silently, he sat down next to his mate. Soon Llyon and Tyger showed up carrying two blankets apiece and woolie sheras for Dai and Merlyn. Strange. Until Tyger handed him the heavy shera, he hadn’t felt the cold. Over the course of the next little bit, silently in ones and twos, most of the village men and older boys arrived for the traditional mourning gathering after a judgment. It was a very old tradition, always carried out by as many of the men as possible. When it seemed that all were there who were going to come, Dai began to speak. “Today we asked the valley for justice and justice was given. But this justice required a life. We are here to offer respect for the life of this man, cruel and angry though he was for no man’s death is without grief. We are many, yet this man’s death diminishes us. So let us meditate on this loss. If any wish to speak, let them speak. No man is inherently evil. If any know the good that this man did in his life, let them speak.”
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The silence was solemn but companionable. Men sat shoulder to shoulder with neighbors, friends and family, fathers and sons, brothers and cousins. At last Merlyn said quietly with slow tears trickling down his face, “He was my father. I loved him when I was a boy. I forgive him his transgressions against me and mine.” Firelight lit the faces in the circle. Some nodded in acknowledgment of his words. Nikolas clambered to his feet. “He was my father though I didn’t know that until I was ten. I don’t think I loved him but he gave me the gift of my brothers, Merlyn and Bishop. Because of that gift I will forgive him the transgressions against me.” The wind picked up blowing his short curls around his face. He brushed his tears away with one hand and sat back down next to Eron. Dancer stood wrapped in the bonding blanket Tyger had woven for Eppie. “He was my enemy,” he said abruptly. “He murdered my parents and brother Teacher. He sold my brother Tracer and sister Raven into slavery. And yet, yet will my brothers and I forgive him, because though he planned and committed great evil, we have been united with the other halves of our hearts because of that.” He sat down next to Tracer who nodded gravely. A long time of meditation and silence came to a close when Dancer stood back up with his violin in hand. Music was not part of the tradition but a welcome addition nonetheless. As the men lifted their faces in sober attentiveness, Dancer lifted the bow and moved into the first bars of “Amazing Grace”. Though most of them had never heard the song before the melody spoke to them someplace deep in their hearts. And when he was finished, it seemed the perfect ending. As they arrived, so they left in twos and threes until at last only Merlyn and Dai sat by the fire. And then Dai spoke softly, “He was an evil man. He killed my daughter and her husband and my grandson. Yet will I forgive him because he is your father and you have been a gift beyond price. Let us go home, my love. Let us go home.”
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Epilogue In the new living room dome at the Llewellyn domes, the family was gathered for the Midwinter celebration. Outside a rare fluffy snow was blanketing the entire valley like frosting on a cake. In the old living room, now in use as a dining room, Dancer was supervising his small platoon of helpers as they arranged the tables and decorated the walls for the Midwinter feast. Near the patio doors stood a huge bright red pine heavy with glittering ornaments fashioned from the chinka materials by Traveller. Out in the master suite Jade leaned back against Merlyn’s broad, comforting chest and panted between contractions. Her dark auburn hair was plastered to her head and her blue-tinted skin was pale and sheened with sweat as she labored to deliver their fifteenth and sixteenth children in the beautiful surroundings of Mystic Valley that were now their home. Llyon and Wolfe, their healers, waited patiently for the contractions to peak and then Llyon carefully eased out the tiny head covered with thick, black, silky hair with tender hands. On the next contraction, Jade finished expelling the baby from her tired body. Llyon handed the baby to Dai, their partner and lover. He tenderly cradled the baby while Wolfe severed the cord and clamped it. “A boy.” Dai held the baby up so they could all see him and pronounced softly the traditional blessing, “Dragon Llewellyn, may you grow strong and steady with honor and love.” Tiny Dragon was not happy with his new surroundings. He kicked his little feet and wailed in protest while Dai thoroughly inspected him. His baby soft blue skin roughened with chills as he opened his black eyes and blinked in the softly lit bedroom. His chest aching with love, Dai kissed Dragon’s tiny pointed ears before he wrapped him carefully in a soft blanket and placed him in Merlyn’s arms. Taking her sweet dawdling time, the second baby finally arrived and was placed in Dai’s waiting arms. He lifted the tiny red-haired girl up in trembling hands and repeated the blessing, “Dovyna Llewellyn, may you grow strong and steady with honor and love.” While he wrapped and tenderly cuddled this precious last child of Merlyn and Jade’s, Llyon and Wolfe finished tending Jade as Merlyn softly described the babes to Jade. “Two fine babes,” Dai crowed with quiet satisfaction and pride as he rocked Dovyna in his arms. “They are so beautiful, Jade, my heart. Dragon will look like his papa but Dovyna? Dovyna is the image of you.” A hush fell over the living room when that first tiny cry reached them and then there was a soft excited babble as they speculated about the babies. Finally Dai appeared in the doorway and announced the good news. “A boy and a girl, Dragon and Dovyna. Both healthy and Jade is well.” He grinned at Eppie, seated across the room. “You’re next,” he teased.
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She patted her round belly. “I’m ready,” she agreed, “but not today. I want to enjoy my first Midwinter with Dancer.” A sudden bustle out in the hallway heralded the arrival of more celebrants. Falcon rushed out to help Arano and Silence with their cloaks. On their heels, Runner and the McCrorys and the Taylors arrived with baskets of carefully packed food. Arano led Silence to a comfortable chair next to Eppie and helped her sit down. Though not as far along as Eppie, her belly was stretched taut with their twins. Wrenna came to offer her a soft kiss on her cheek and pat her round tummy. “You’re feeling well today, Silence?” Silence looked at her with a merry, mischievous smile. “I am doing very well. How are you?” she asked patting Wrenna’s swelling belly. “Arano says you are going to have three babies. I’m glad it’s you and not me,” she confided, innocently unaware of the shocked hush that preceded the rush to congratulate and tease Wrenna and Traveller. All through the early afternoon, guests continued to arrive, loaded down with Midwinter gifts and food. Tyger supervised the younger children who were all anxious to open their gifts. Robyn and Tracer took charge of the staggering number of dishes that steadily arrived in the kitchen. It was late afternoon when dinner was finally ready and the family began to sit down at the tables scattered in the dining room. Suddenly, the doors next to the Midwinter tree flew open and swirling snow blew in as three tall warriors and a companion stood smiling in the doorway. Dai was the first to recognize the snow covered figures as he leaped to his feet and rushed over to hug them, snow and all. “Ban! Arturo and Hawke! Bishop! Welcome home!” The excited greetings drew Merlyn’s attention. He carefully pulled the door closed on the bedroom where Jade and the babies slept and walked softly down the hall. Standing in the doorway, he stood silently with his heart swelling with love and joy. Now this was a Midwinter to rejoice because everybody was home.
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About the Author Anny Cook learned to read at five years old. Learning to write was a natural extension. Through her adult years while a wife, mother, grandmother, fast food cook, warehouse book packer, Girl Scout and Cub Scout Leader, perpetual college student, executive secretary, and adult education teacher, writing served as the anchor that kept her sane. Well, maybe not exactly sane, but close to it. Today, after thirty-five years with kids, cats, dogs, guinea pigs, and hamsters, she and her husband are empty nesters. Sigh. Finally, there’s time—and quiet—to write in peace. Anny welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Anny Cook Chrysanthemum Mystic Valley: Everything Lovers Can Know Mystic Valley: Traveller’s Refuge
Also see this author’s titles at Cerridwen Press (www.cerridwenpress.com): Mystic Valley: Dancer’s Delight
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