Crystal Warrior: Through All Eternity (Atlantean Crystal Saga Book 1) (16 page)

Lifting her to the edge of the pool, he spread her legs and drove into her softness with an urgency totally belying any profligacy in the spending of his life force during the night just gone. She was tight and hot and ready and he groaned with the delight of it, and she welcomed him as passionately as he could ever have wished.

Some things were more important than horses or war.

Chapter 9

Struggling to find an inner peace that would sublimate the pain and guilt of the night with the joy of the morning, Gynevra settled herself in a secluded spot in the gardens where golden thyme made a springy, aromatic bed. She hadn't meant to fall asleep!

Emotions a mess of repletion, guilt and anxiety, it was almost noon when she rattled the bell string by Meryan's door. The jangled sound echoed the dance of her nerves. What chance of keeping her secret from her sisters who knew her as well as she knew herself? Pulling the leather curtain aside she entered a small room identical to her own further along the hall. Phryne, curled under the rug on the low cot and Mery, drowsing on a large floor cushion, started up at once.

‘Gyn'a! Where were you?’

Phryne's voice was fractious, petulant, and plainly underscored by hurt.

Stabbed afresh by guilt at Phryne's fragile appearance, Gynevra blurted, ‘I've been sleeping!’

‘You weren't in your room. We looked.’

‘Do you want to know my whereabouts at some specific moment or do you require a detailed account of my movements since the last time you saw me? What is this? The Judgement Hall of the Elders?’

Alarmed at her own volatility, Gynevra shut her mouth. If she couldn't remain calm she'd alert her sisters to that which she most desired to keep secret. She dropped to the bed beside Phryne. ‘Are you all right?’

The words came out sounding more like a surly after-thought than an expression of concern. Best she took a deep breath and cleared her thinking so she could offer Phree healing, not aggravation.

Phryne struggled upright on the bed which gave Gynevra a perfect view of the large polished obsidian teardrop hanging from the center of the golden Goddess necklace. How was she supposed to get control of her emotions with Taur's signature stone mocking her from its place of honor on Phryne's breast?

‘I've had healing from Ianthe. I'm sore but I'll be all right. I wanted to ask about Prince Gotham. They say he lives—and only because of the miracle of your healing.’

Gynevra eased air into her lungs. There'd never been anything in her life she'd wanted, or needed, to keep secret from these two, nor had she ever imagined there could be. Yet she dare not speak of the events of the morning for fear Phryne's questioning would uncover the wicked secret of her mind-connection with Taur when he should have had connection only with the Goddess. It was bad enough knowing what she'd done without facing Phryne's deep hurt and knowing she'd caused it. But the health of Prince Gotham was a safe topic.

‘Not my powers, Phree. Just the healing energy of the Goddess channeled through me,’ she chided gently.

Phryne nodded impatiently.

‘I know. How badly was he wounded? They said his leg was almost severed.’

‘It was, but it was the loss of blood that almost killed him. He'll live. Maybe not to war again, but he'll live.’

‘Thank you, Great Mother Ist,’ Phryne murmured devoutly.

Meryan sat up against the wall.

‘Well, it's been a long, eventful, and for some, fulfilling night,’ she commented into the ensuing silence. Her eyes darted briefly to Gynevra then she added, ‘Phree's dying to tell all you missed last night and beg you to make her some `Goddess Salve'. Delida gave her some but she said the delilahs from the Outer City swear you make the most efficacious brew. Perhaps you could make me some too. I may have need of it by this time tomorrow.’

Gynevra jolted round in her seat.

‘Oh Sacred Ist! Mery, you're uniting with Hadan of Trephysia at sunset today! How could I have forgotten that?’

‘There has been much to distract you.’

Meryan's usually dreamy blue eyes were strangely knowing and direct. Gynevra dropped her gaze to her hands to give herself time to absorb the message she saw in those eyes. Mery couldn't know, could she? Her mind might have worked better if she'd had a night's sleep but even so she recognized and grasped at the excuse for escape that Meryan had handed her.

‘The most important ingredient of my `Goddess Salve' is the hour of curing in the midday sun. I'll need to go now and make it up before the noon heat is gone.’

She could escape Phryne's reminiscences and whatever it was Mery seemed to know until the heated edge had cooled off her own memories. Maybe then she'd be better able to guard her thoughts and her tongue. Her heart grew heavier by the moment with the sense of alienation from these two who were as much a part of her as she was of herself.

‘But Gyn'a! I thought you'd want to know everything.’

Forcing herself to remain calm, Gynevra stood up, gave Phryne a swift, hard hug, and said, ‘I do want to know—but if he took you
seven
times you need that salve as soon as possible. It's a wonder you can still walk!’

‘It's not easy. Darg carried me in here. How did you know it was seven?’ Phryne asked.

She knew she was too tired to guard her tongue in any interchange with Phryne right now!

‘News like that spreads rather fast. It means we're going to have the best crops of the century—and let's hope it means the Gods won't send any earthquakes or tidal waves either.’

‘Especially if I'm pregnant,’ Phryne added complacently. ‘The army should also be successful against the Inland Tribes and they'll be able to set up a colony there which will give us new sources of food.’

‘Right,’ Gynevra agreed with relief. ‘So, why don't you get a bit more sleep and we'll have a talk-feast tomorrow. It'll take our minds off missing Mery. I need some more sleep too and so does she—or she'll fall asleep in her platter at the feast tonight! I can't imagine that impressing Prince Hadan! And if you're hurting as much as you should be, then you need that salve as soon as I can make it.’

‘But have you had any lunch, Gyn’a?’ asked Meryan in her usual mothering way, which made Gynevra smile. ‘You need to eat to replace all that energy.’

The smile faded. She now had no doubt Meryan possessed information she'd thought privy to herself and Taur. She also knew her sister hadn't shared that information with Phryne, nor would she. Staring directly at Mery, she engaged her mind.

‘
What are you trying to tell me?’

‘I'll come see you shortly at the Hall of Alchemy. I have something for you.’

‘What?’

‘Later. Go now before Phree starts wondering. It wouldn't be fair to steal her special moment.’

‘What energy?’ Phryne demanded, giving substance to Meryan's thoughts. ‘I'm the one who expended all the energy last night!’

‘Gyn'a spent all night in Uranil healing the Prince and achieved nothing less than a miracle.’

‘It was the Universal Healing energy that saved him,’ Gynevra said again.

‘So you're not tired after all?’ Phryne asked, her long slim fingers absently stroking the dark jewel on her breast.

Beating down the black emotion that threatened to choke her, Gynevra said, ‘We all are. Tonight is the last time we'll be together. Mery will live in the City of Glass with Hadan after this and you're off to the Monastery in a few days. Let's get some rest so we can enjoy the night's festivities.’

All three indulged in a quick hug and Gynevra departed thankfully for the Hall of Alchemy, a small stone building set amid herb gardens beyond the Great Healing Temple. She'd mix the salve and set it in the sun then check on the Prince.

Glad to find she had the place to herself, she assembled the necessary ingredients on the marble work slab—slippery elm, hyssop, sun-vibrated amethyst elixir, aloe emollient for the carrier cream. And the precious amethyst mixing bowl gifted to her by Ianthe on the occasion of the completion of her initiation as a master-healer.

Her hands fell idle often while she stared out through stone archways into the enclosed courtyard where unguents and elixirs were steeped or cured in sunlight or moonlight. Her brow was deeply furrowed as she sought to understand the virulence of her feelings towards Phryne. Jealousy was an emotion supposed to belong only to primitives and the uninitiated. She could see why. It was intensely uncomfortable and simply wouldn't work in a society where men, whether in a union or not, could be contracted to sire children on other women or chosen to perform their sacred duty in any of the Temple rites enacted throughout the year.

Nor would it work where couples were expected not only to contract a sire of the Dragon Blood for their children but their sacred partners, as the other half of the union, supervised the act. If she were in a union with Taur she knew she couldn't remain the complacent onlooker while he honored laws and contracts to sire the next generation.

Her reaction to his signature stone hanging from Phryne's necklace was shocking enough in itself but even more alarming was the thought of attending public functions where any number of the women present could be wearing the same adornment.

Black profanity filled her mind. Ancient Cronos! What was happening to her? She was no better than a savage or a servitor! Ever since her initiation on the altar by Magus Yazid there had been a longing in her for something more, an awareness that a lifetime of such ritual couplings would leave her emotionally sterile and bitter. That awareness was now a solid knowing. The power of her joining with Taur in the grotto had shown what her life as Archinus would always lack. But could she know that powerful connection to a man without feeling this ugly jealousy?

Ibn Ist! It was her duty to follow Ianthe as Archinus. Ianthe expected it, King Ahron expected it, as did every priestess in the Temple. Why was she tormenting herself with longing for something she shouldn't be dreaming of? A sacred partner wasn't for her. Yet without one how often was she likely to experience the ecstasy of the creative act as she had with Taur? Having discovered that ecstasy, her body was avid to repeat the experience—and not with the public and sterile ritual of the altar. What a tangled mess her thoughts had become! What her body longed for, her mind feared.

Jerking upwards with impatience at the impassioned thought, her elbow caught the amethyst bowl and skidded it across the marble work surface. Heart beating frantically, she caught it as it teetered at the edge. She'd almost allowed her distraction to destroy Ianthe's precious gift. Just as she'd allowed Taur's energy to distract her from her duty to the Goddess last night!

Her whole being trembled with shame. The outcome of that should surely have taught her the folly of allowing herself to be tempted from her ordained path. Drawing in several deep breaths to center herself she began chanting an invocation to the Goddess and kept repeating it until the salve was thoroughly mixed and set in the sun.

After cleaning down her work area she laid out the small alabaster pots into which the salve would be decanted. She was about to leave to visit Prince Gotham when Meryan stepped through the arches, into the Hall of Alchemy.

‘How and when?’ she demanded.

Taking Gynevra's arm she drew her to a stone seat beneath a palm in the courtyard.

‘How and when what?’ Gynevra countered.

Did she dare share her secret with Mery? Desperate to share it with someone, she knew there was none better than this gentle sister who was a Nyaldan like—

‘You and King Cadal Isidor.’

‘And what do you know about me and King Cadal Isidor?’

It was impossible to keep the sharpness from her voice.

‘Not as much as I'd like to, but enough!’ Meryan's eyes were bright with laughter at Gynevra's discomfort. ‘You might as well tell me. I already have the proof. It's the details I lack—and it's the details I want!’

‘What proof do you have?’

A snake of dread coiled in Gynevra’s stomach. Had Taur been bragging?

‘Uh-ah. Tell first.’

‘Who else knows?’

Meryan heard the apprehension in Gynevra's voice and hastened to reassure her.

‘It's all right, Gyn'a. I'm the only one who knows and I have to admit it's really only guesswork. Here.’ She placed a small linen-wrapped bundle in Gynevra's palm. It was warm as if she'd been hiding it in her own hand for some time. ‘Open it. Then—well at least tell me when! I mean, he joined with Phryne seven times last night. Seven times—and he didn't leave her until dawn! It was quite obvious something was going on between you two though. Have you been holding out on us? Had you already been with him?’

‘Who else noticed?’ Gynevra asked, the snake in her belly writhing in panic.

‘No one, I don't think,’ Mery said gently. ‘No one else knows you as well as I do.’

‘Except Phree.’

‘Phree had far too much on her mind to notice you.’

Releasing a pent-up breath, Gynevra opened her hand and let the small bundle of cloth unroll. Lying in her palm, attached to a gold silken thread and reflecting the fire of the sun from every gleaming facet, was a tiny but perfect bull. Exquisitely carved from black obsidian.

To her utter consternation tears burned at the back of her eyes, and her throat jammed shut. Great Mother Ist, it was beautiful. Her hand began to tremble as with one shaking finger she traced the intricate lines.

Such an exquisite, delicate thing to represent such passion and power.

A hot tear fell onto the back of her hand.

‘Gyn'a! I didn't think it'd make you cry!’ Mery said, folding her in her arms.