I am the former master of Kelos, Thorn responded with a snort, snatching up the small folded parchment that Hallow pulled from a pocket. He flew off, adding, There isn’t a being alive that I can’t find, given enough time. I will wait to see if he has an answer before returning to you. Don’t have fun without me!
Allegria remained worried despite Hallow’s reassurances, even later that evening, when Hallow lay naked on the bunk in their cabin, his hands behind his head while he prepared to enjoy the sight of his wife disrobing. Normally, she made a little show of it for him, but tonight, as she pulled her tunic over her head, and reached behind her to untie the breastband that hid her delicious breasts, she didn’t jiggle, waggle her hips, or even pose seductively. She removed her clothes and got into the bunk with him, a frown pulling her brows together.
Hallow looked down at his erection. “Sorry,” he told it. “She’s not interested tonight.”
“I’m not interested in what?” It took her a moment to respond; then she glanced over and noticed his condition. She made a face. “Of course I’m interested in that. I always am, except when my courses are upon me and I want to clamp your stones in a vise so you know just how much monthly courses hurts, but that’s not important.”
“My stones beg to differ,” Hallow said, frowning at his erection when it lost a bit of stamina at the idea of his testicles in a vise. “Are you still worried about Deo, or does something else have you distracted to the point where my poor manhood must go unloved?”
“Your manhood gets more love than most men’s,” she said with a little smile, rolling onto her side so she could slide a hand down his chest. “I’m surprised I haven’t worn it down by now.”
“You’ll need to try harder for that to happen,” he said, his eyes widening when she pushed herself up and straddled his thighs. In her hand was a small blue bottle that he hadn’t seen before. “Don’t tell me you have some sort of love potion there? You already fill all of my heart and soul and waking thoughts. A love potion would probably push me over into a mindless love slave.”
“And that would be bad how, exactly?” she asked, uncorking the bottle. A spicy scent of oranges and lemons filled the close air of the cabin.
He thought for a moment. “Any number of reasons, none of which I can think of right now, but there are some, and once they come to mind, I will be sure to inform you. What is it you have?”
“A lotion I bought from a harlot named Twenty-finger Sal who was in town selling leather phalluses studded with pearls.”
“Why twenty-fingers?” Hallow couldn’t help but ask.
“Sal said she could grip men with muscles that didn’t involve her hands.”
Hallow’s eyebrows rose.
“The phalluses were beautifully decorated,” Allegria allowed. “She swore the pearls would make my eyes cross. I told her I had you, and you were quite adept at making my eyes cross, uncross, and roll back in my head with ecstasy, but she said that even though we were still enamored of each other, the day would come when we would be less easily pleasured, and she had an oil that would put a smile on your face, and a kick to my walk. I told her that you always smile, and she said this was a special smile. I thought that seemed a bit suspicious, not to mention the fact that she wanted three silvers for it—three silvers!—but she said she’d throw in detailed instructions on how best to use it. And that seemed like the sort of bargain I couldn’t refuse. So I bought it.”
He eyed her as she poured a little scented oil onto one of her hands, tucked the bottle away, then rubbed her hands together. “It all sounds very intriguing, although I am perfectly happy the way we do things now. Er…do I leave you feeling as if you need a kick to your walk?”
She smiled a smile of pure wickedness, delighting Hallow down to his toes. “No, but it will be fun trying out the oil. Now, the first thing Sal said to do was to coat your man parts with it.” She suited action to words, an act that Hallow greatly enjoyed until she paused, looking hesitant. “Sal said that men have a special pleasure button, but in order to get to it, you have to venture into an area that Sandor always said only a physician should attend to, and then only in the direst of circumstances, such as if you had inserted a turnip and it got stuck there. Sandor is a very learned physician, so I trust her about that. Especially since the man who brings hay to the temple has had to have many turnips removed.”
Hallow blinked a couple of times. “I have many things to say about that, but first and foremost, there is no pleasure button. Not one that I want you to go looking for.”
“Good, because in order to do so, I’d have to…” She made a sharp, stabbing motion with her forefinger.
Various groups of muscles tightened at the same time his erection became less thrilled with the turn in the evening’s events. Not to mention conversation. “And neither one of us wants that,” Hallow agreed. “How about you go back to rubbing that oil into those parts of me that are clamoring for your attention?”
“Sal did say the rubbing in of oil was important,” Allegria said with a little nod, and returned to a stroking action that had Hallow’s hips bucking. “I think you might be wrong about the pleasure button, though. She said women have one too, only I didn’t get to find out any information about it because I saw you heading for the ship.”
“My heart, this I swear to you: if you have a pleasure button, I will locate it,” he announced with a grandeur that he felt was suitable to the situation.
“All right, but you may need to talk to Sal about just where to find it.” She bent to swirl her tongue over the very tip of him, making him see stars and moons and entire galaxies. “Unless it takes a turnip to find. I wouldn’t like that anymore than you would, and I would die of embarrassment if I had to go back to Sandor for an extraction and tell her I was one of the turnip people.”
Hallow’s shout of laughter filled the cabin, and by the time they’d both given in to the pleasure that overtook them whenever they put their minds to it, they were covered in citrus oil, panting and sweaty, and as boneless as Dexia’s cursed dolls.
The only thing that could have made Hallow happier would be the knowledge that Lord Israel would be waiting with the third moonstone when they arrived in Abet. To his surprise—and no little amount of dismay—when they arrived the following day, the only person who greeted them was Idril.
“Where’s your husband?” Allegria asked, making a show of glancing around the dock.
“My…oh, Lord Israel?” Idril’s eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch as she turned her gaze from Allegria to Hallow. “He is in Ilam, trying to keep the tribesmen from declaring war upon him and what remains of the Council of the Four Armies.”
“Jalas wishes to declare war on us?” Hallow asked, taken aback.
“Why on earth would he want to do that?” Allegria took Hallow’s hand in a blatant show of possession. The fact that she only did so when Idril was around gave him no end of amusement.
Idril glanced at Quinn, who with Dexia at his side, came to stand next to them. She looked pointedly from them to Hallow.
“Ah, yes, my apologies for not introducing you. This is Quinn, our captain, and his…er…ward, Dexia. Lady Idril is the daughter of the leader of the north men, Jalas. He is—or was—a member of the Council of Four Armies, which prompts me into asking what in the twin goddess’s names has been going on while we were in Genora?”
“Welcome to our company,” Idril said with exquisite manners, holding out one pale and limpid hand for Quinn. He hurriedly bent over it, his eyes alight with pleasure as he pressed his lips to the back of her fingers. “We are naturally delighted to have such a useful member join our forces. Your ward appears to have very sharp, extremely pointed teeth. It’s an interesting look. Allegria, I see you are still marked as one of Deo’s banesmen despite losing your extremely useful power. I don’t suppose you have managed to regain it now that we have need of such a
bility?”
“Hello, Idril,” Allegria said, imparting a boundless amount of scorn into the second word. “How surprising to find you here rather than at your home, where you belong. Didn’t you tell Hallow that your father was ill, and you had taken over management of the tribe? Do you think it’s prudent to leave warring tribesmen to get up to Kiriah knows what sort of trouble while you can gallivant off to the keep of a man whom you repeatedly act surprised to find is your husband?”
Hallow sighed to himself and said under his breath to his wife, “So it’s going to be that sort of a day, is it?”
She growled softly in response.
“And as ever, you have completely misunderstood what is really a quite simple situation.” Idril looked thoughtfully at Hallow for a moment before turning to Quinn, and saying, “But such things are better spoken of in privacy. We will go to the keep. You may take my hand and escort me, Quinn. You are very handsome.”
“You can change the subject as much as you like, but it doesn’t eliminate the fact that you are here while Lord Israel is with your father,” Allegria pointed out, but Idril had already turned away. Taking the arm an apparently besotted Quinn held out, she strolled with him toward the great stone building that crowned the town of Abet.
Dexia moved forward until she was next to Hallow, an oddly assessing look in her uncanny black eyes. “That woman is dangerous.”
“Idril?” Allegria asked, surprised. “Yes, but only because you’re at risk of falling asleep when she starts talking.”
“My heart,” Hallow remonstrated.
Allegria heaved a big sigh. “All right, that was a bit too much. I apologize for being so sharp, although just once I’d like to see her with her hair less than perfect, and her clothing anything but spotlessly gorgeous, and her whole demeanor something other than coolly ethereal as if we were dung beneath her pristine feet.”
“Hmm,” Dexia said, her eyes narrowing before she pulled from her somewhat grubby pinafore a small cloth doll that she’d created during the journey from the Genora to Aryia. “I think I might have use for this sooner rather than later.”
“I think we’ll do without that,” Hallow told the small vanth, catching a grin on Allegria’s face before she changed it to a placid look of mild interest. “Shall we see what Idril has to tell us that can’t be spoken of in public?”
“I am fair panting at the idea of being in close consultation with her,” Allegria told him gravely, but there was amusement in her eyes.
He had a feeling it was going to be a much longer day than he’d imagined that dawn.
Chapter 7
“Why exactly is it that you are here, and Lord Israel is in Ilam?” I asked Idril once we arrived at the room in the keep that I had remembered as being Israel’s library. It apparently did double duty in times of unrest as a war room, its walls lined with heavy shelves bearing a number of books, scrolls, and almost as many stacks of parchment as Hallow had back in Kelos.
The room was dominated by a massive table, upon which were spread out a variety of maps being held down by silver tankards, metal figurines, and the odd occasional dagger. Chairs were scattered around the room, everything from the hard wooden variety to more comfortable examples bearing cushions covered in rich cloth.
“I have come to Abet because Lord Israel asked me to do so.” Idril glided over to a tall, throne-like chair bearing a gold and white striped cushion and sat in an attitude that showed off not only the silvery blondness of her waist-length hair—not a strand of which was out of place—but the apricot and gold of her gown.
By contrast, my hair was filled with sea salt from sitting out on the ship’s deck, I hadn’t had a bath in more than four days, my tunic had a spot between my breasts from the porridge we’d hastily eaten before landing at Abet, and there was a tear in my dusty black leggings right at the knee. I felt like a half-starved, scruffy stray cat who had wandered into the presence of a highly pampered pet.
“If you don’t mind my asking, why did he send you here?” Hallow had a puzzled look that I shared. Idril’s presence in Abet made little sense if her tribesmen were as unhappy as she’d told Hallow they were.
“My father is being…” She gestured gracefully with a languid hand. “Difficult. He speaks of himself as being near death, but is not ailing physically. And then there are his suspicions.”
“What sort of suspicions?” I asked.
An expression that on any other person would have been called a grimace of distaste passed over her lovely face. “He sees conspiracies against him where there are none. Of late, he has been convinced that I seek not only his throne, but his departure from the realm of the living. It is nothing but foolishness, of course, but Israel thought that my presence was causing my father distress, and he hoped to be able to reason with him after I left.”
“Which means he didn’t get the moonstone,” Hallow said, staring down at the table, his gaze turned inward.
I wanted to wrap my arms around him, to ease the burden of responsibility that he had never sought, but which had been thrust upon his shoulders. I wanted to remind him that it was not his problem, and that he didn’t need to solve the woes of Alba on his own. But Hallow fought wrongs when he found them, and never hesitated to step up when his help was needed. I moved to his side, but kept my hands to myself, wanting to provide him with support without distraction. “How strong is Jalas?” I asked him softly.
“By himself?” Hallow shrugged. “Strong enough. You’ve seen him.”
I had. I had a brief memory of a large man, one who was quick to jump to conclusions.
“The tribesmen of Poronne are known for their fighting prowess, but they are not strong with magic, and Lord Israel is.” Hallow tapped absently on a map. “Depending on the size of Israel’s company—”
“There were but a score of men with him,” Idril murmured, her expression untroubled.
Hallow made a face, and my stomach balled up.
“That doesn’t sound hopeful. Lord Israel is a proficient magister, but with such a small company up against the force of Jalas in his homeland…” Hallow stopped and shook his head.
“He needs reinforcements, then,” I said, thinking aloud.
“Aye, but it would take a battalion of men several weeks to reach Ilam, and I don’t know that Lord Israel has such time if Jalas is…”
“Unhinged?” I suggested.
Idril’s lips thinned.
“Unreasonable? Deranged as a bumblepig in a vat of ale?”
Idril shot me a sharp look. I smiled at her, showing as many teeth as I could manage.
“Something is definitely wrong with him if he has left the Council, and he sees conspiracies everywhere,” Hallow said with another tap of his fingers on the map. His gaze was still turned inward while he no doubt tried to come up with a plan.
I had a feeling he was planning how best to get Israel’s army to him. “There’s a much easier solution,” I told him.
He looked up, his eyes troubled. “Than what?”
“Moving the Fireborn army.”
“Oh?”
I pointed to where Quinn was examining Lord Israel’s bookshelves. “We have a ship at our disposal.”
Quinn turned to cock an eyebrow at me.
“We couldn’t fit more than a small company on that ship—” Hallow started to object.
“There’s nothing that another company of soldiers would do other than rile up Jalas,” I pointed out, taking Hallow’s hand and rubbing my thumb over his fingers. “Certainly they would not be as effective as a seriously impressive arcanist and a lightweaver. Assuming I still am one…no, you needn’t reassure me again. Now is not the time for that. Also, there is the fact that Jalas knows us. Or at least, he knows you. He won’t be suspicious if just the two of us arrive, but if we were to approach Ilam with a large contingent of men…” I let the sente
nce trail away, sure that he would picture Jalas’s response.
“There is that,” he agreed, his fingers tightening around mine. He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles before grinning. “Very well, since an army of soldiers is out of the question, we’ll bring an army of two.”
“Three,” Quinn said with a sigh, gesturing to the whistle, which he wore around his neck. “Unless you’d like to release me from my service?”
“Not yet,” Hallow told him.
“I can help, too,” Dexia said, shoving her doll into Idril’s face. “I am very good with curses that make nipples fall off. How many nipples do you have, lady?”
Idril slid out of the chair, giving Dexia a little frown as she moved over to the window seat with a grace that I would never, no matter how hard I practiced, manage to achieve. “What an odd child you are—ow!”
Dexia smiled when Idril paused to glare at her. Behind the girl’s back, Dexia held a long strand of white blond hair.
Idril continued with only a moment’s pause. “You are welcome to go to Ilam, Hallow, but I warn you that although the Tribe of Jalas is not learned in the way of magisters or arcanists—”
I cleared my throat.
She gave a minute eye roll. “—or lightweavers, my father is not one to be taken advantage of easily. Especially not when he is in his stronghold.”
“If you have any other suggestion, we would be willing to hear it,” Hallow said with his usual patience.
Idril gestured toward Quinn. “The captain was telling me that he is lifebound, and that he has sailed to Eris. Why should we waste more time attempting to get the moonstone from my father when we can simply board the ship that even now sits in the harbor and sail there? It would take only a week, far less time than would be needed to make my father see reason…or to remove the stone from his possession.”
“We?” I asked at the same time that Hallow said, “You have no idea just how perilous the journey to Eris is, Lady Idril.”
Starborn Page 10
