Authors: Ann Herendeen
Tags: #marriage, #sword and sorcery, #womens fiction, #bisexual men, #mmf menage
I must get her to stop that ridiculous
curtsying,
I thought as I entered the breakfast room, to hear
discussion of something I had almost forgotten in my preoccupation
with my own problems. Dominic was arguing with Josh. “It’s not as
if one woman more or less will make any difference,” he said. “I
refuse to allow it, and I won’t hear any more on the subject.”
Eleonora broke in, speaking in that soothing
way peculiar to the sibyl, confident of her authority. “Ordinarily
I would agree with my husband.” She smiled at Josh before turning
to her brother. “But in Amalie’s condition, I must side with you,
Dominic. The risk is too great for any help she might give.”
I walked in at that moment, and the three of
them fell silent, not quite looking at me, the way people do when
they’ve been talking about you. Dominic rose and bowed, behaving as
he had at La Sapienza, as if we were strangers thrown together in
an arranged marriage. He was careful not to touch me as he pointed
to a chair beside him.
“I must leave you here for a while, Amalie,”
he said. “My brother-in-law wants you to enlist in the Aranyi
militia, but I’ve been trying to convince him, with my sister’s
help, that you aren’t cut out for the infantry, and there isn’t
time to train you as a cavalry trooper.” He was cheerful, almost
manic, so unlike himself that I wondered if he was still under the
influence of the telepathic weapon. It was my first experience of
the animation that comes over Dominic when preparing for
battle.
Josh jumped up at Dominic’s facetious
remarks. “You know very well that’s not what I meant,” he said, a
slight Terran accent detectable when he spoke emotionally. He used
his training as a seer to compose himself, aware and resentful of
Dominic’s attempts to provoke him. “With the Eris weapon activated
again, we will need every available telepath to fight it.” He
turned an anxious, polite face to me. “Ms. Herzog, have you had
experience as a full member of a
crypta
cell?”
Dominic, a grim expression on his face,
confronted Josh before I had a suitable answer. “I said I wouldn’t
hear any more about involving Amalie in this business.” He spoke
flatly, as if to a servant. “If you weren’t Eleonora’s husband I
would challenge you for this.”
“If you weren’t Eleonora’s brother I wouldn’t
waste another word on you.” Josh answered Dominic in the same
manner, before his voice rose again in indignation. “Why shouldn’t
Amalie help if she can? Eleonora will be the nucleus of the cell,
much as I dislike it, but she’s the logical choice, the best
qualified, and I haven’t heard you object to that.”
Again Eleonora interceded, speaking
telepathically to her husband, who flushed as he listened. When she
had finished he bowed to me, a rare expression of surprise on his
impassive face. Then, with what I could see was great difficulty,
he apologized to Dominic and left the room.
“What in the name of Erebos was that all
about?” Dominic said.
Eleonora looked shocked. “Don’t tell me you
don’t know.” She realized Dominic did not. “Tell him, Amalie,” she
said. “You have no right to keep that information to yourself.”
Once again I had to confess to Eleonora that
I did not understand her. Famished for the breakfast I could see,
and smell, on the sideboards, I could not wrap my mind around
another mystery. From the empty dishes on the table, it was clear
the others had already enjoyed a hearty meal.
“Whatever did they teach you at La Sapienza?”
Eleonora asked in disgust. As there was no real answer to her
question, she supplied one herself. “Very little, apparently.”
“Eleonora,” Dominic said, with a look that
would have flattened me, “I expressly prohibited Amalie from using
her gift, or her prism. We were isolated and vulnerable, trapped in
a shelter. We could not risk forming communion. If we had attracted
the attention of Eris—” He shook his head. “I should not have to
tell you the danger we faced. And I should not have to request that
you speak more courteously to my—”
“I’m sorry, Dominic,” Eleonora said, sounding
anything but. “But surely, here, in Aranyi, we are safe enough that
we do not need to behave like Ter—” She cut off her word, glaring
at me. “—like ungifted commoners.” She shrugged and grimaced,
taking the responsibility on herself. “Dominic, your—” She was at a
loss for the right word, the only time I ever saw this happen to
her. “—your woman is pregnant. I assumed that was why you objected
so strongly to having her take part in this cell, and I agreed.
Since I see you did not know, I can only say your chivalry amazes
me.”
Pregnant?
My heart skipped a beat. I
had made sure to get a fresh contraceptive implant, good for six
months, right before I left Terra.
Seven months ago
. I took
Eleonora at her word, hoping it was safe to use my gift, and,
turning away, resting the palm of my left hand on my belly, I
examined myself internally as I had wanted to do in the hut.
Without the amplification from my prism I didn’t expect to learn
much, but as Edwige had assured me I would, I had created a strong
field of telepathic energy within and around myself after six
months of training and practice. I experienced a moment of quiet
jubilation as I discovered that I was, indeed, a few days pregnant
with Dominic’s child.
Dominic’s reaction, once Eleonora’s words had
sunk in, was more expressive than mine. “Is it true, cherie?” he
asked in a low voice. When I nodded he lifted me up from my chair
and kissed me hard on the lips, then put me down carefully and took
a couple of steps back in alarm, still afraid of initiating
communion. He glanced over at Eleonora, who was pretending not to
listen, and turned back to me. “You must stay here and look after
yourself while I am gone,” he whispered, trying to sound severe so
I would obey him. “I expect to find you safe, and not so thin, when
I return.”
“I’ll be here,” I said, wondering if there
was any truth in my words, not wanting to say more in front of
Eleonora. I had little choice but to do as Dominic asked for now—it
had been difficult enough getting here.
In my embarrassment I found it impossible to
shield my thoughts, either in or out. Shrinking from the
mortification of having confirmed all of Eleonora’s suspicions, I
focused on Dominic’s thoughts instead. While he liked the idea of
becoming a father again, his predominant emotion was relief that my
pregnancy ended all debate about involving me in the upcoming
expedition. No matter how great the need, a gifted, pregnant woman
would never be allowed, much less expected, to endanger herself and
her child in this way.
I was at last able to help myself to a late
breakfast, and I consumed a large bowl of oatmeal and milk, several
strips of what looked like bacon and tasted even better, and some
delicious juicy, seed-flecked, oddly shaped bright pink fruits
while Dominic and Eleonora discussed their plans for the upcoming
rendezvous with the other telepaths who would work with them
against Eris. Josh, somewhat abashed, returned on Eleonora’s
summons now that the news had been imparted, to linger over coffee.
Dominic had to muster the rest of his forces, men from the various
small-holdings within Aranyi and the neighboring manors. Josh would
help him with this, and I was glad to see they were talking now in
a more or less friendly fashion.
Eleonora spent most of the day with me,
giving me a tour of the house and grounds, and introducing members
of the staff. As a guest who looked like ’Graven, staying on in the
family’s absence, I would be the nominal mistress of this enormous
establishment. While Eleonora might be tempted to leave me to make
the best of it, the household, as I had already seen with Magali,
would blame her, not me, for any lack of courtesy.
As we went from workroom to storeroom to
outbuilding, and as people greeted Lady Eleonora and her guest, it
became all too clear that “Mistress Amalie from Terra” was taken to
be Dominic’s betrothed. Eleonora chatted and joked and passed it
off easily, but there was no mistaking people’s perceptions, and no
way to change them. Margrave Aranyi would be unlikely to invite an
unmarried young woman to his home for any other reason, and I
neither looked nor dressed nor spoke like a Terran. Whatever
trepidation I felt at the beginning of the tour had changed to
relaxed pleasure by the end of it. I had never had so warm a
welcome in my life.
Dominic came to my room after supper to talk
about the upcoming conflict. “It’s not really a battle, as you or I
think of it. It’s more of a
crypta
contest between two large
cells. Our side will outnumber theirs greatly, but their weapon
will more than compensate for their small numbers. And I promise
you,” he added, knowing the worry in my mind, “I won’t go in for
any heroics.”
It was a lie, a complete bold-faced lie, the
only one Dominic ever told me. He acted the part expertly,
convincing me that our recent mishap with the long-distance effects
of the telepathic weapon had given him a healthy fear of it up
close. The bitterness I detected seething beneath his calm exterior
I attributed to the demoralizing scene we had lived through in the
shelter. Time, I thought, and the return of our communion, would
heal it.
He would not say the name of Eris, and I
didn’t prompt him. “Why are you raising troops, then,” I asked, “if
it’s not a regular battle?”
Dominic smiled, pleased that I had led us
away from the topic neither of us wanted to dwell on. He sat on the
bed in order to look me in the eyes, and I moved eagerly to sit
beside him. “The rebels have brought the blacksmiths and miners
into their cause. They work with iron and steel, and they’re a
closed community, keeping their knowledge to themselves. After the
last uprising, the smiths constructed a container for Er– the
weapon, something it could not escape from. We thought they could
be trusted not to open the vessel or try to use the weapon, but
apparently the rebels found a way to change their minds.”
“So you’re going to fight a bunch of
metalworkers?”
Dominic shook his head. “Probably not.
Although they craft the ’Graven’s daggers and swords, they’re not
soldiers themselves. It’s not really their fault that these rebels
tricked them into freeing the weapon. But we can’t know what we’ll
face when we get there, and I’d rather go in with troops behind me
than without.”
While Dominic talked I had taken the chance
to try to revive our communion, not touching him, but passing my
hand over his a couple of millimeters apart. The motion stirred our
crypta
fields, producing the same effect I had experienced
at our meeting—the delicious electric buzz, arousing and soothing
at the same time, which was more than the usual static between
telepaths. It was the physical manifestation of the love we shared,
the precursor to the deep communion that was only a touch and a
thought away.
Dominic shivered at the sensation. He tried
to move his hand away, but couldn’t. He wanted to touch me in
return, take me in his arms, but he didn’t do that either. “No,
Amalie,” he said in a whisper. “Not yet. Wait until this danger has
passed.”
He was shaking with the effort at restraint
that was so alien to him. He tried, but could not conceal his
thoughts from me. The incident in the travelers’ hut had frightened
him more than it had me. I had attributed the problem to the
disruption of our communion. Once that was restored, I thought, all
should be well.
But Dominic could not share my confidence. He
was attracted to lovers who were small, young or vulnerable in some
way, inspiring his protective instinct and that other side of him,
the one that enjoyed abuse and domination. In the hut, the
telepathic weapon had jammed our communion, blocking the gentleness
it would have inspired, leaving us at the mercy of desire
untempered by love. It had happened so easily, and Dominic had had
no warning, no chance to resist the weapon’s influence. Now he was
worried he might never be able to touch me, or any lover, without
succumbing to the allure of violence.
I recalled that first time at La Sapienza,
when he had been so aroused by looking at me in a dressmaker’s
mirror that he could not wait, but had rushed in to make telepathic
love to me. And before that, the embrace and kisses we had shared
in my apartment. There had been no lurking brutality there, no
sense of Dominic having to suppress a part of his sexuality.
“I don’t want to wait,” I said. “I want to
find out, now, if we can be lovers or not.”
Dominic stood up and moved away from the bed.
“Amalie,” he said, “it’s enough that you’re carrying my child. Once
this rebellion is put down, the weapon destroyed, then we’ll
see.”
His words only increased my determination.
Dominic was riding off into unknown danger in the morning.
What
if he was killed and we had never come together in love?
Besides, it was not all up to Dominic to
adjust. The communion could make it possible for each of us to
attune our bodies and behavior to the other, allowing us to enjoy
physical love without having to settle for only tepid sexuality.
Dominic would need to use a reasonable amount of self-control, and
with the help of the communion I could reach the height of arousal,
protecting myself while acting as a full participant in our
coupling.
I was willing to chance it now, see what
happened. Eleonora had scoffed at the idea that the Eris weapon
would attack us here at Aranyi, with two of Eclipsis’s most gifted
seminary staff in residence, and Dominic and me not exactly
defenseless. I walked toward him, sending my thoughts in the
partial communion I had created between us.
You must stop
blaming yourself for something a telepathic weapon caused.
Dominic attempted to free himself from the
communion, answering me in speech. “You are too generous, Amalie.
You excuse my actions because you think I was overpowered.”