Storm Holt (The Prophecies of Zanufey Book 3) (12 page)

‘I wish I was cursed with you, like one of your knights,’ she replied, jutting her chin forward and pursing her lips.

‘No you do not,’ he said, shaking his head. His voice was hoarse from all the talking. He didn’t want to think about the past anymore. ‘I will miss you, terribly, and want you to come with me.’

She looked at the ground. ‘My duty is here with my people. I must help rebuild our home and lives, and heal the pain of those left behind. One day I will become an Elder. And, if it is right and appropriate and the Hidden Ones speak to me, I will become the High Elder. I can take no husband.’

‘I don’t want you to have your ears broken,’ Marakon scowled.

She shrugged. ‘For the good of all, I would. But they say I already have a special gift, the gift of foresight, and if it is through that that the Hidden Ones will speak to me, then my ears need not be stilled.’ Marakon felt a little relieved at that.

‘Does it annoy you when they call you half-elven?’ she asked, changing the subject.

‘Yes,’ Marakon said. She giggled.
 

‘I like the sound of it though, they seem brave and beautiful,’ she said, looking at Ghenath sat talking with Cormak a few yards away. She was dressed in linens like the Gurlanka and her long hair shone gold in the fire light.

Marakon snorted. ‘Beautiful, yes. But most turned out to be cowards. And a few,’ he nodded towards Ghenath, ‘are the best people I have ever had the honour to fight beside.’

Jarlain looked at him as if pondering something. ‘I see the war within you. You are probably the strangest man I’ve ever met, able to see clearly the worst in people, but also the best. You are strong in many ways, but carry a painful past, and yet you fight so fearlessly and ferociously. After so many tortured lifetimes, and remembering them, I doubt I would have the strength nor the will to carry on.’

‘I have no choice but to carry on,’ he shrugged. He held her close and they sat in silence, listening to the sound of the people talking before the pyre, the moans of the wounded behind them inside the Elder’s house, and the sound of the sea in the distance breaking on the shore.

‘When will you go?’ she asked.

‘Soon. We have already stayed too long. As soon as Hylion, Lan and everyone else has rested.’

‘How will you go?’

‘The same way I came. The boatman, Murlonius. I just have to call him, he is waiting for me. He too is cursed. He can never set foot upon mortal physical shores again, though that is all I know of it. I think he is ancient. An Ancient, even.’

‘I would like to meet him. In this world there’s nothing but pain, sadness and loss.’ Jarlain shook her head. ‘I wish that Seadevil had killed me.’

He looked down at her, saw her eyes fill with tears. He bent to kiss her cheek, wanting to kiss away her tears, but instead he found her lips. She parted them and he kissed her. He kissed her harder, feeling her own need match his. She gave the softest moan with her eyes closed. His heart was pounding, his own desire surprised him. He should not want her the way he did, not when Rasia was waiting for him with his children, for spirit’s sake. Was it possible to love two people equally? He drew away reluctantly.

‘Take me into the trees,’ she breathed.
 

He looked down at her, her brown eyes stared unblinking up at him. He would leave soon, never to return. Could he deny her? Could he deny himself and forever wonder? Gently he picked her up and carried her into the dense jungle. Soon he would leave her forever, and that awful thought drove his actions and drowned out the voice of guilt.

Marakon stopped in a sandy clearing within the trees. The sea was only a few yards away, and the ocean lapped at the shore.
 

Rasia would like it here, he thought with a half smile. The white beaches and tall palm trees would remind her of her own childhood home on the coasts of South Frayon. She would want to swim naked in the moonlight, her long copper curls floating out around her. He loved Rasia but he couldn’t deny his feelings for Jarlain. He felt bad, felt confused.

He set her down on her feet and held her close. She looked up at him, tears filling her eyes once more, and he bent to kiss her, long and gentle. He could hold her and kiss her and enjoy these last moments together. Nothing more. Then he would be back in Rasia’s arms with their sons running around them, where he belonged.

He pulled back, guilt and desire battling within him.
It is only a kiss,
he told himself, though he wanted more. It had been so long, months too long. He felt torn in his stomach. After a moment, he pushed the guilt away and bent to kiss her with certainty. She drew him down to the floor smiling, making the tears curve around her cheeks. She lay down, her long dark hair spread out around her.

‘You should have a husband, many will love you,’ he said, stroking her stomach.

‘I don’t want one,’ she shook her head. ‘Children, maybe. Lovers, yes. But a husband, no, and it’s forbidden for an Elder anyway. The only husband I would have, is you.’ She trailed her fingers up his bare arms as she spoke making his skin tingle.

He sighed at her words, trying not to think of his own family, wanting only these moments with Jarlain. The white light of Doon spilled through the clouds then, illuminating everything. He took her trailing hands and kissed them. She pulled his own hands down to stroke the soft skin of her thighs through the fold of her skirt. He let her take control, as if by doing so it would somehow quell his guilt.
 

She undid his shirt and he let it fall free as he stroked her smooth skin, wanting to feel every part of her. She slipped off her own shirt, and his breath caught in his throat as Doon’s light spilled over her full breasts and slender stomach. The moonlight shone like silver on her shapely body. He felt he should not be allowed to touch something so beautiful, and for a moment he hesitated. But when she drew his hands to her breasts he could not resist either, and it was then that desire flooded into him fully. He kissed her and fumbled for the cords of her skirt, letting it fall away. He touched the bandages of her leg where she’d suffered a knife wound.

‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said pulling back, his voice deep with desire as she kissed and nibbled on his lip.

‘You won’t,’ she reassured, and laid back down drawing him with her.

‘Jarlain,’ he breathed, as she pushed down his trousers and gripped his buttocks firmly.
 

He stroked her from her hips to her stomach to her breasts, feeling her goose pimple in delight as he felt every curve. She gave a moan and he could delay no longer. He laid himself firmly against the inside of her good thigh as she shifted her legs apart. Gently but firmly pushed into her. She gasped. With each gentle thrust she pulled him deeper, and he felt as if a lifetime of tension was slowly being released. He began to lose himself then, falling into the excitement of desire as he made love to Jarlain. He was himself fully, but drifting in a sea of ecstasy. He wondered if she felt the same as she arched her back, half closed her eyes, and moaned.
 

She tightened herself around him, and he groaned as his bliss reached a new level. It had never happened before when he made love, this losing of the self, but with Jarlain something seemed perfect, divine. They moved together and all else fell away, the sound of the sea, the light of the moon, there was only this moment of ecstasy stretching out into eternity. The world may very well have not existed.
 

He felt himself rushing towards something then, like a light in the distance coming closer at increasing speed. He felt her wetness flooding over him, felt her spread her legs wider and push him deeper. She groaned from far away. He felt her spasm deep inside and that sent him reeling. The light rushed over him as he heard himself gasping, equally from far away. His whole being seemed to disintegrate even though he felt his physical body thrusting of its own accord. A long time seemed to pass as he floated in the light, his spirit free in bliss.
Have I known Jarlain before?
He asked of the light, but all he felt in response was the knowledge that, yes, he had.

He was partially aware of a hand on his cheek and a voice drawing him back. He did not want to return, but he wanted to be with that voice. He took the hand and kissed it, feeling his body return to him once more. Tears ran down his cheeks, the grief of a hundred lifetimes had somehow lifted a little. He blinked and the jungle around him materialised. He looked down at her, she stared up at him in wonder and maybe a hint of fear.

‘Is it always like this?’ she breathed, her face and breasts were flushed pink.

He smiled and shook his head. ‘No.’ He lay down beside her suddenly spent.

‘I’ve never felt like that before,’ she breathed and stroked his cheek. He drew her close, laid his chin upon her head, and she curled her arm around him.
 

‘I felt my soul lifting from the emptiness,’ he tried to explain. ‘I have not felt such release, only in battle, but that is very different.’ He didn’t know what had happened either, but he felt better than he had for a long time.

‘They say a healer can do that, when they make love. The energy is shared and healed,’ she said, also trying to explain. ‘I saw you, a powerful old soul. I felt like a butterfly when compared to a magnificent eagle.’

‘Beautiful if not more so,’ he said, stroking her hair.

‘You took me higher than I ever thought possible. Maybe I helped you heal but you have opened up doorways within me to a higher place,’ she said.
 

He did not quite understand what she meant, but heavy sleep was fast descending. They lay there by the sea in each other’s arms until Doon’s silver light on their flesh became Feygriene’s golden light and the night slowly turned to day.

Marakon lay there for a moment as the light increased, Jarlain curled up under his arm, her hair spilling over his chest. He felt the most content he had in a long time, the last time was when he’d awoken with Rasia in his arms. Guilt, the pang hit him and was gone again in an instant. His love and desire had not diminished for his wife, he found he loved her more, just as he loved Jarlain beside him.
 

Yes, he decided, it was possible to love two people, but he doubted two people would share his love.

He held her there for a long moment, then gently kissed her and got up quietly. She did not even stir as he dressed. He decided not to wake her, she needed sleep to heal her injuries and he hated goodbyes, especially when it was forever. With a lingering look at her he forced himself to turn away, and walked along the beach to where his knights were gathering.

HAVING had a hot bath and a good night’s sleep, Issa, Asaph and Coronos waited in a stifling reception room outside the ornate wooden doors to the mayor’s office. They had been up at dawn and arrived here before anyone else, and yet still they had already been waiting an hour. Two guards stood nearby, overdressed in stately royal-blue uniform and impervious to the heat.
 

Issa had her hair tied back and was dressed in her new tunic dress, but even that felt hot and uncomfortable. They were all washed and dressed in their new cooler clothes, but Asaph’s and Coronos’ faces were already covered in a sheen of sweat, and they looked as hot and uncomfortable as she felt.