Naamah's Curse (41 page)

And then Vachir stepped up to the mark, drawing and releasing three times in quick succession, clustering three arrows in the center of the crude red heart painted on the stuffed target.

I laughed and bowed to him in the Ch’in manner, one hand clasped over the other. “Your honor is restored.”

He smiled his quiet smile. “I suspect we would be closer matched if you had more time to practice with an unfamiliar bow. May it serve you well, lady archer.”

After I had thanked Vachir and Arigh for their generous gift one last time, Aleksei and I took our leave of the Tatar camp. I gave him the bow and quiver to carry, reckoning it would look less conspicuous on the streets of Udinsk. He listened silently to my explanation of how I had come to compete against Vachir in the archery contest at the spring gathering.

“Are you angry?” I asked when I had finished. “Truly, I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think we could trust them. The laws of hospitality are sacred among the Tatars.”

“Not angry, no,” Aleksei said slowly. “You lived among them, you know their ways. It was just… strange… seeing you thusly. Strange, and beautiful. It made me understand why the old Hellenes gave one of their goddesses a bow. Every time I think I am coming to know you, Moirin, I discover a new you. It’s as though I turned a corner I thought was familiar, and found myself in a hallway I hadn’t known existed.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure how to respond.

He gave me a sidelong glance. “Are there many more of you?”

I thought about it. “Well, there is the Moirin of Terre d’Ange who served as royal companion to the Queen, who went about in jewels and finery, attending balls and concerts and poetry recitals. And there is the Moirin who was Master Lo Feng’s pupil, and learned to master the Five Styles of Breathing and studied the Way. But they are all me, Aleksei. Does it trouble you?”

“No.” He frowned. “It’s just that I’ve only ever been one person, I suppose.”

I took his arm. “You’re an uncut gem, sweet boy. Time will reveal your facets. The Aleksei I met three months ago is not the Aleksei who offered to teach me to lie to his uncle, and that young man is not the Aleksei who plotted our escape. Of a surety, none of them are the Aleksei who consented this very morning to accept Naamah’s blessing.” I raised my brows. “Or had you forgotten?”

“No.” Aleksei flushed and looked downward, his dark lashes shuttering his eyes. “Oh, no.”

“Good.” I squeezed his arm. “Now let us see if that bath is ready.”

T
he bathing-chamber was small and steamy, the tin tub was small and cramped—and the bath was altogether a glorious thing. It was the first hot bath I’d had since leaving Shuntian, and the first time in months I’d been able to bathe without chains rattling and clanking around me, and shackles chafing my skin. If I hadn’t had to share it with Aleksei, I’d have stayed in that tub until the water cooled.

It was worth every cent it cost.

Such a simple thing; and yet it felt as though I’d taken a step further toward reclaiming myself, washing the taint of the Patriarch’s touch from my soul even as I washed the grime from the journey from my skin.

Afterward, I found myself humming. To be sure, all was not right with the world. Distant Bao and his low-burning
diadh-anam
were never far from my thoughts; and I was a long way from being safely out of Vralia.

But yesterday I had been penniless, tired, and hungry, with scarce a possession in the world. Today, I had nearly everything I would need to set out on a long journey. I was well fed, well rested, and clean.

And today I was on Naamah’s business, which made me happy.

I had assumed my modest, blushing boy would want to wait for nightfall and the cover of darkness to invoke Naamah’s blessing, that I might even have to coax him into letting me light a candle.

Much to my delight, I was wrong.

I sensed it in the common room where our hostess, whose name was Polina, served us leftover chicken and dumplings for a midday meal. Clean and damp from his bath, Aleksei stole covert glances at me as we dined, and I could sense the yearning rising in him, an aching hunger I longed to assuage.

“You don’t want to wait for nightfall, do you?” I asked softly.

“No.” His voice was low and steady; and although he blushed, he held my gaze without flinching. “I want to see you, Moirin. All of you.”

I nodded, rose, and held out my hand to him. “Let us go, then.”

He took a deep breath, nodded in agreement, and took my hand. As we left the common room together, our hostess Polina gazed after us with a maternal look of habitual disapproval mixed with indulgence.

In the bedchamber, I closed the door and latched it. Aleksei glanced around the sunlit room. “It does seem very bright.”

“Too bright?”

He shook his head. “No. I will not hide from this.”

I fetched one of the tallow candles we had purchased earlier that day. It took several tries to kindle it with the flint striker.

“What’s that for?”

“An offering to Naamah.” I smiled at him. “It should be incense, but I thought you’d take it amiss if I stole some from a temple.”

“Like as not.” Aleksei tried to smile back at me, but it came out as an anxious grimace, tension beginning to war with desire in him. He took another deep breath, shuddering as he exhaled. “What… what am I supposed to be doing, Moirin? You will have to tell me.”

“Nothing, sweet boy.” I laid one hand on his chest. “I am going to pray to Naamah. If you like, you may pray with me.”

“I don’t think I can,” he said earnestly. “But I will keep you company if you like.”

“That would be nice.” After removing my shoes, I knelt on the wooden floor, sitting on my heels and fixing my gaze on the candle- flame, barely visible in the bright daylight. Aleksei knelt beside me, quiet and still, doing his best to contain his nerves.

I prayed.

As strongly as I felt Naamah’s presence in the gift that Aleksei and I shared, it took a long time before I was able to sense her will. I had sought to seduce Aleksei toward my own ends; I carried a burden of resentment that I had failed, a burden of resentment toward his uncle and his aunt; and aye, a lingering burden of resentment toward God and his son Yeshua.

I had to let go of those things, offer them up.

I did.

The bright lady smiled, but she remained silent. I concentrated on the flickering candle-flame, willing my heart to be open and my ears to hear.

“You wished this, O brightest of goddesses,” I whispered in Alban, reverting to the tongue of my birth. “Will you not grant your blessing to this hurt and damaged child of yours? I offer myself as your vessel.”

When it came, it came in a rush, a sense of Naamah’s grace settling over me like a cloak of sunlight, like an embrace, like the tenderest of kisses, making my heart ache, setting the doves to fluttering in my belly. She was here, present between us. I drew a shaking breath, tears filling my eyes, words filling my mouth.

“Aleksei…”

He nodded, wordless.

I laid my hand on his chest again, spreading my fingers, feeling his strong, young heart pounding beneath my touch. “What you carry is no curse, but a gift. Like any gift, it can be used for good or evil. If you use it wisely and kindly, it will bring only joy, and never sorrow. Trust your heart to guide you. Take your shame, and offer it to God. Let him burn it away until only what is pure remains.”

Naamah’s grace expanded, encompassing Aleksei. He caught his breath, a single, gasping sob escaping him.

I didn’t understand, not wholly. But her words were meant for him, not me. “Is all well?” I asked.

“Yes.” Wonder dawned in his blue, blue eyes. “Oh, yes!”

“Good.” I shifted, straddling his knees. “I am going to kiss you now.”

Aleksei smiled through his tears. “Do you think you need to warn me?”

I nodded. “I do.”

Leaning forward, I cupped his face in my hands. He closed his eyes, tears trickling beneath his lashes. I brushed them away with my thumbs, kissed the salty trails they left behind on his skin. I kissed his warm, firm lips until I felt them soften, and parted them with the tip of my tongue, letting it touch his.

He jerked back, eyes open and wide. “Is that… customary?”

I laughed softly. “Yes. Did you not like it?”

“I… don’t know.” Aleksei looked at me with that extraordinary earnestness. “Will you do it again, please?”

I kissed him again. This time, his lips parted more readily. I let my tongue slip between them, finding his and teasing it, coaxing and retreating. I let my hands slide upward into his damp, tawny hair. Let myself lean farther forward, pressing my breasts against his chest. Gods, it felt good.

Aleksei groaned into my mouth, his arms encircling my waist hard, his hands pressing against my back. In the bright sunlight, he pulled me down atop him, kissing me fervently.

“No sin?” I asked, breathless.

He shook his head. “No sin.” He tugged away my head-scarf. “Why are you wearing this? You hate it.”

“True,” I agreed.

He stroked my hair. “It
is
as soft as it looks.”

“Oh, aye?” I kissed his throat, biting softly at his skin.

He groaned again, his back arching. “Moirin, don’t… don’t. It’s too much. I want to see you. I
need
to see you.”

I sat back on my heels. “Then do.”

Aleksei rose. I let him pull me to my feet. His big hands clutched folds of my drab woolen dress, lifting it and easing it over my head, discarding it. His hands tugged down my undergarments, and I stepped out of them.

“Oh, God.” With profound reverence, he took his deity’s name in vain, his voice shaking as he gazed at me. “Oh, God! Moirin. You are so very, very beautiful.”

“So are you.” I unlaced his shirt and removed it deftly. “So are you, sweet Aleksei.” His pale skin gleamed in the sunlight, stretched taut over his angular bones. I trailed my fingertips over the jutting ridges of his collarbones, over his hard chest and his lean belly. I slid one finger along the waist of his breeches, glancing up at him. “May I?”

He swallowed. “Yes.”

Kneeling, I unlaced his breeches and eased them down over his narrow hips. His erect phallus sprang free, straining so hard it looked as though it must hurt. I blew softly on it, and Aleksei groaned at the touch of my warm breath.

“Don’t… don’t…” He breathed raggedly.

“Do you think it unclean?” I stroked his phallus lightly, feeling the silken skin sliding over the rigid core, and swirled my tongue gently around the swollen head. “It is the staff of life, Aleksei.”

“No, I know.” He took a step backward, stumbling in the breeches I hadn’t finished removing, and sat down hard on the edge of the bed. “It’s just too much! Just the sight of you doing it. I don’t want to—”

“Ah.” I hid a smile. It had been a long time since I’d been with a man as young and inexperienced as Aleksei, fearful of spilling his seed too soon. “Don’t worry, sweet boy,” I said, pulling off his breeches. “We have all the time in the world.”

He didn’t protest when I took him into my mouth, only made a strangled sound deep in his throat and clutched my head. I performed the
languisement
as an act of worship—albeit a brief one, to be sure. Aleksei’s hips jerked forward as he poured his seed and years upon years’ worth of repressed desire into my mouth.

“God!” he said in a hoarse voice. “Oh, God!”

I sat back, smiling.

Aleksei eyed me, flushed for once with pleasure and not shame. “You
are
a witch,” he murmured, reaching down to take my hands. “Come here.”

I let him tug me onto the bed beside him, where he kissed me without reservation, his tongue exploring my mouth, his hands exploring my body. He was Naamah’s child, and he had found his element. He kissed my throat, hands cupping my breasts, then gave me an inquiring look.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Oh, yes.”

His tawny head moved lower, his mouth closing over one nipple, suckling hard. Stone and sea, I had been too long deprived! I shivered with pleasure and ran my fingers through his hair, encouraging him.