Violet and Verde (2 page)

He glanced at her. “M’lady, did you sleep well?”

She nodded. “Yes,
siflion
, thank you.” She glanced at Ravinia pointedly, for the Thezine had just arrived in her section. Ravi could see them, of course, but she gave no indication of this as she turned to face the altar.

Rak followed her gaze then looked at her in inquiry.

She made a face, an exaggerated grimace, and signaled that they’d discuss it later.

Rak nodded once, and he didn’t press her for answers, his patience being yet another thing she appreciated about him.

His hand found Ave’s as the chant began, and they sang the praises to the Lord of Night together. She enjoyed the sound of his lovely tenor voice, and he seemed pleased with her lilting soprano. When the service came to an end, he turned to her, still holding her hand. “M’lady, are you doing anything this hour?”

“No, I’m not…I won’t be needed until the third hour.”

“Then, let us go enjoy the evening together.” Rak tugged gently on her hand, oblivious to the glare Ravi was now sending in their direction.

“We’re being watched, Rak. Or at least, I am. Is there someplace private where we could go to talk?”

“This way,
siflion
.” Rak led her through one of the side corridors of the temple, then down a staircase to the first sublevel. He navigated this maze with ease, though this was a section she’d never been in before. The complex layout of rooms and corridors beneath the temple defied rational explanation, and most of the priesthood didn’t venture too deep, for the further down one went, the more dangerous it became. Rak didn’t descend very low, though as a Thezi, he could have gone deeper than most. Abruptly, he turned, heading back up on a different stair.

They emerged into a small, dimly lit room, but Rak didn’t pause as he opened the door.

Ave blinked in surprise as she followed him out into the night air. He had led her completely out of the temple, emerging at the landing field. She had had no idea that such was even possible, but given the maze, perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising.

Scorth was waiting for them, too. The black dragon’s head swung about, and he snorted softly at her, causing her hair to blow about. She laughed as she placed a hand on his nose in greeting, “Good evening, Scorth.”

The dragon rumbled and lifted a foreleg.

This was a far cry from the first time she had ridden Rak’s dragon; she’d been on him enough that she knew what she was doing. She climbed quickly to the dragon’s back and settled herself between the massive shoulder blades as Rak came up to sit behind her.

Then, Scorth spread his wings and leaped into the air.

Moments later, the temple complex was small beneath them. Scorth banked, turning south, away from Okyro, but following the plateau’s edge.

Rak busied himself with Scorth’s harness, attaching one end of a coiled cord to one of the steel rings. “Want to fly?” He shouted, to be heard over the wind whistling overhead.

Ave felt a rare excitement. She’d heard about this from other Loftoni, who unlike her, had dragons to call their own. She grabbed for the rope before he could change his mind.

Rak obliged her, helping her into a simple harness and tying the other end of the cord securely to it. He showed her the quick release strap then made sure she had a sharp dagger in case the strap failed. Finally, he nodded that all was ready.

Ave stood and spread her wings. The wind slammed into her, throwing her up, off the dragon’s back, the cord playing out as she gained altitude, fighting to master the gusts that wanted to tumble her in every direction. She jerked at the end of the line, a hundred feet out, and discovered that this stabilized her flight. Scorth towed her now, like a child playing with a kite, but she had a marvelous sense of freedom, of actually flying. She dipped a wing and darted down to one side then back up, only to do the same thing in the other direction. Every twitch of her wings altered her flight, the only constant being the forward motion of the dragon, and the beating of those enormous wings created all sorts of gusts and eddies for her to play in.

Abruptly, Rak joined her, flying on his own line.

Her violet wing briefly overlapped his scarlet one, and the tactile sensation of that was almost too much.

They split apart, glancing at one another and laughing, only to draw near once more, like moths to a flame. Silk slid against silk, wing against wing, their hands seeking, finding one another. They spun, locked together in a kiss, the wind trying to tear them apart as they clung ever tighter.

Ave could feel them dropping, but she didn’t care. All that mattered to her was that she have this man, the sooner, the better.

Rak held her close, but he did make some effort to regain their lost airflow, his wings spreading, tilting, catching the wind once more.

They soared up, and Ave turned in his arms, so that he was above her, still holding her, and her wings spread as well. Now, they flew as one, the action of their wings synchronized. It was even better than flying alone had been. But her wings trembled now, and her back was aching from shoulder to the bottom of her ribs, all along the line of her wing bases, where the muscles attached. Rak seemed to understand her predicament, because he forced them down, back onto Scorth’s back, and massaged her back until her spasming muscles finally relented and allowed her wings to furl.

By the time she was feeling well enough to look around, Scorth had landed in a cave, probably one of the many dragon-dens that lined the plateau. Ave sat up and saw her suspicions confirmed.

Scorth ambled forward, out of the mouth of the cave and into a sandy area that was probably his nest.

Rak gathered Ave into his arms and leaped down before a protest could form on her lips. As soon as he landed, he set her down and said, “I did not want your wings to cramp further, m’lady. You need to rest the muscles after over-exerting them like that.”

“Thank you,” she told him, trying to pack all her gratitude into those two simple words. Finding them insufficient to the task, she added, “That was the most incredible experience of my life. Thank you for that. Thank you both.”

“You are welcome, of course,” said Rak, as he helped her over to the stone walkway that bordered the sandy nest.

Scorth curled up in his sand with a gusty, meat-scented sigh.

Rak led her further into the artificial cave, where another chamber opened into this one. The ceiling of this new chamber was much lower, though still comfortably high. She guessed that this was Rak’s quarters, though most Thezi riders had a cell in the temple as well.

She liked the simplicity of the black oak furnishings, which reflected a spare, but elegant, style. The chamber wasn’t set up for entertaining either, for the sleeping area was merged with the living area with little differentiation between them. The bed was double width, which surprised her a little, for as a single man, what need did he have for the wider surface? There was a stuffed dark green leather chair that had seen better days, and a couch, equally battered, in dark grey leather. They faced a low black oak table across from a tall bookcase that was mostly filled with odd objects and tools rather than with books. There was a desk along the wall next to the bookcase, its surface clean but for a scant handful of scrolls, the inkpot and a small selection of quills. She also noticed a small pile of bleached white bones in the corner near the chair. She wondered about that but did not ask.

“White or red?” Rak asked her as she sat on the couch.

“Red, please,” she said.

Rak opened a bottle and poured two glasses full of the standard Okyran red wine.

He handed hers over before he sat down beside her. “This isn’t much,” he said quietly, “but it is very private. No one will overhear us here.”

She sipped, savoring the sweet spiciness of the vintage, taking a moment to gather herself for what was to come. “I like you a lot,” she said frankly.

Rak regarded her expressionlessly. “But?” he prompted, tone gentle.

“My mother is worried about our friendship.” Ave sighed. “She thinks I’ll hurt you. After years of urging me to find a man, now she’s trying to warn me off one. You.”

Rak’s elegant red eyebrow twitched, and Ave found herself admiring his profile again, even as he scoffed, “Your mother thinks that
you
will hurt
me
? Why ever for?”

Ave caught and held his yellow-green gaze. “Because of what you once were…a Royal Dancer of Zoth.”

“Oh,” he whispered, as his face drained of color. “That.” He hung his head and seemed to Ave’s eye to almost shrink in on himself. His wings drew up into a tight, unhappy knot, and he let the silence lengthen, the glass of untouched wine dangling loosely from his fingers.

“I had no idea,” Ave said, suddenly in a rush to get it all off her chest. “My mother caught me unprepared and unaware. I hadn’t even known you’d been a slave, much less a Royal Dancer, much less the King’s Champion.”

The wineglass fell from his hands and shattered on the stone floor. Wine and glass flew through the air to form an impact pattern that Rak ignored, even though some the shards of glass had cut him. “Yes, I was a Royal Dancer, a sword dancer,” he said finally. “And I was the King’s Champion, too. Does that bother you? The songs the minstrels sung…yes, I have heard them. Yes, I did those things. I did not want to, but I did do them.”

“Why?” Ave asked. “Why flay your victims? What possible pleasure could there have been in that?”

“Victims? Is that how you see them?” Rak looked up at that, a hint of fire in his eyes. “Each man I faced across those bloodied sands was a murderer at the very least, beasts in human form. Each one was tried by the Justicers, their guilt proven from their own minds and memories and condemned to die.”

“The songs never mention that,” Ave said shakily. “But still, Rak, flaying them?”

“At the king’s orders,” stated Rak flatly. “Only ever because that is what he commanded of me. Not because he thought to punish them, he knew as well as I that mad dogs, such as these men were, would learn nothing from what I did to them. But because he wanted the kin of their own victims to feel that justice had been done and that the brutal beast that had tortured, raped and murdered their loved ones had been made to suffer even a fraction of what their victims had.” Rak peeled off the couch, swiftly moving to the far side of the chamber, only to return a moment later with a handful of rags that he dropped on the spill of mingled crystalline daggers and blood-red wine.

“I’m sorry,” Ave offered as she knelt down to help Rak clean up the mess. “I had no idea…but I said that already, didn’t I. I guess that was the worst part, that I didn’t know. You hadn’t told me. I felt a little betrayed that my mother knew, and I didn’t. If we’re going to have a relationship, it needs to be based on trust.”

Rak set the fouled rags into a metal pail then spread sand over the area to soak up any remaining fluid.

Ave touched his hand, trying to draw him out of the silent shell he’d locked himself into. It worked.

He looked up, meeting her eyes briefly before glancing away. “That was a time in my life that I have tried very hard to forget. I did not tell you because I was hoping that you would like me for myself and not because you pitied me. I got enough of that when I first arrived here. Even now, I wonder if my brethren are nice to me because they feel sorry for me.”

The pain in his voice melted her heart. She wrapped her arms around him and said, “Rak, I liked you before I found out. And I don’t think my feeling have changed in that regard.”

Rak returned the hug, pulling her against him.

The sensation of his hard, strong body pressed against hers made her knees feel weak, and she was suddenly grateful that she was already sitting down. Impulsively, she squirmed herself into his lap and snuggled against his upper body.

They cuddled, speaking quietly of their hopes and dreams, until abruptly, Rak changed the subject. “There is something else I must tell you. Something you will need to know about me, and I pray this will not destroy our relationship.”

“Tell me, Rak. Whatever it is, I am sure we can overcome it together.” Ave smiled at him, letting the burgeoning love she felt spill over into her expression and voice.

“M’lady, I was a Royal Dancer.” He waited, clearly expecting her to understand this.

“You told me that,” she said. “That isn’t an issue between us.”

“But it is, m’lady. Dancers are, uhm, pleasure slaves, as well.”

He’s cute when he blushes
, thought Ave. “I know that.
Everyone
knows that.”

Rak’s red eyebrows arched at her, but she didn’t get what he was driving at. She shrugged.

He sighed. “Ave, I am…altered. I was given the potions, all of them. I cannot function with a woman without feeling pain. And a woman, no matter how skilled or how much I care for her, a woman cannot relieve my fires.”

“Oh,” she said, utterly surprised. “Oh! But then…why are we even seeing each other? You need a man, not me.”

“Yes, but I
want
you. I think I love you, m’lady Ave.”

“But if we can’t be together…the purpose of marriage is children, Rak.” She drew away, trying to mask her confusion and hurt.

Rak caught her hands before she could escape. “It is not an insurmountable obstacle, m’lady. We can still be together. But you would have to…tie me down…and take charge.”

“That sounds…intriguing,” said Ave with a shaky laugh. “But if I can’t relieve your slave fires, that means there will be someone else…”

“There is, his name is S’Tyll, of the Kephi sect. He is a good man, Ave. I think you will like him.”

“I don’t know, Rak. That’s a lot to take in and accept.” Ave succeeded in pulling away and stood up. “Can you take me back to the temple now?” She hoped the tears she was refusing to shed didn’t show in her voice.

“Of course,” said Rak.

* * * *

Ave sat on a stool in the scriptorium, barefooted, with one foot curled around the wooden rungs of the stool and the other just dangling. There was a glass of red wine near to hand, for the rules the Movai imposed on novices didn’t apply to full priestesses like her. She was carefully copying an ancient spell written on a moldering parchment scroll and paying no attention to her surroundings.