by Chris Lange
Chapter Thirty
By the Mighty Gods, didn’t she have a genuine and charming smile? Such a pity it took a body swap for her to realise how pretty she looked. His amused grin deepened as he watched her. Fairly certain she had never used this ironic tone when she was still the owner of her voice, she shook her head.
“No troubles at all.”
He observed her contorted face, the hand still clutching her groin, the distorted position of her hip.
“Don’t be silly. Let me help.”
“There’s nothing you can do.”
“Would you want to bet on that?”
She didn’t miss the intent in his gaze as he strode up to her. Petrified with shame, yet loath to suffer this pinching for hours on end, she let him pull her pants down, shift her male genitals in a particular arrangement, and button her up again. He took a step back and grinned.
“There. Better?”
Given the heat rushing up her limbs, she must have turned crimson red right down to the root of her hair.
“Yes, thanks.”
“Listen, Ariana, you have to stop doing this.”
Doing what? Was it so difficult to envision that she hadn’t yet mastered the trick to move around with a penis and a heavy sack hanging down? She just needed a little time to adjust, but surely he could understand that. Yet he didn’t seem to, as he creased his brow.
“For as long as this exchange lasts, you are the Lord of the Clans. Which means you represent me in the eyes of the world.”
“I know. What’s your point?”
His deep sigh could have been heard across the clearing. Raising his arms, he seized her shoulders and squeezed.
“The Lord of the Clans doesn’t blush. Ever.”
Oh, so that was his point. Not the nut pinching, but the ashamed glow that flushed her cheeks every so often. He made sense, of course. If she kept on blushing in public, she’d tarnish his reputation as the fiercest of warriors, and people would soon call him the rosy leader.
“I promise I’ll do my best.”
Silence hung between them for a short while. Then he shot her a doubtful look, but appeared to drop the issue.
“Let’s go find your damn shaman. As much as I enjoy making love to your beautiful, sensual body, I want mine back.”
He hadn’t dropped anything. Digging the nails she didn’t possess anymore into her palms, she fought off the bout of embarrassment threatening to overwhelm her. She willed her unshaven cheeks to remain pale.
Although he tried to drive her into a corner by praising her body, the expression he used made her fret. He didn’t say “mating.” He said “making love,” and the distinction gave her goose pimples. Looking down at him, she summoned up her blandest tone.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
She needn’t have worried because the deep voice that had become hers concealed her confused emotion. He winked at her.
“Not bad, Ariana. You’re getting good at this. As a matter of fact, I think you can pull it off with some practice.”
She nodded as he seemed about to turn away from her. But, as if an afterthought crossed his mind, he looked at her again.
“By the way, thanks for enjoying my love making so much. Last night, I thought your cries of pleasure would revive the Ancients.”
Heat whooshed up her face. Unable to watch the mocking glitters in his eyes, she dropped her gaze as he snapped his fingers.
“So close! Well, you’ll do better next time. Come now, Ariana, the day isn’t going to wait for us.”
She followed him through the woods leading to back to Frahern. True, she might require practice to avoid blushing or blabbering, but he really had to work on his new, supposedly feminine walk.
No woman would tread a path with his long, impatient strides, nor pump her arms in such a soldierly fashion. Lucky for him she owned a skirt that hung loosely from the waist, else the bottom part would have hindered his movements.
They reached her aunt’s house with sunrays falling on their shoulders. Either extreme weariness or the body swap had incited them to oversleep because morning already seemed well on its way. Now her shaman would be put out because she showed up so late.
Cameron frowned when he spotted the door standing ajar. Although not an uncommon fact in villages, people still tended to secure their houses since the war. His creased brow alarmed her. She grabbed his arm, but he ignored her signal for caution and barged into the house. At some point, he’d have to remember that he wasn’t a giant lord anymore.
“Ariana!”
The joyous exclamation caused her to cross the threshold after him. Her aunt rushed forward, arms stretched out, and hugged him like a toddler. Clearly unaccustomed to displays of affection, he nonetheless tolerated her warm embrace with good grace.
Although the top of her head barely reached his chin, she rocked him for a while before pulling back. He only flinched when she stroked his cheek with affectionate fingers.
“I’m so happy to see you, little one. By the Mighty Gods, you’ve grown into a beautiful woman. I can’t believe it’s been so long.”
He just nodded, a thin smile curving his mouth. With a last caress over his hair, she raised her gaze up to stare at her.
“And you must be our lord.” She bowed her head with reverence. “Welcome to my humble dwellings, my lord.”
She wanted nothing more than to be cradled by her aunt. They hadn’t seen each other since her childhood, but she’d always missed her relative. Now her wish would be denied because her shaman played this wicked trick on them, and Moyna only saw the Lord of the Clans when she looked at her. Straightening her shoulders, she acknowledged her aunt’s greeting.
“Thank you. We’re looking for my...” Quickly repressing the urge to curse, she cleared her throat. “We’re looking for Ariana’s shaman. He should start her training this morning.”
“What training?”
She definitely appeared surprised. Cameron swept the room with darting glances before focusing on Moyna again.
“Where is he?”
Smiling at him, she took his hand. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Ariana, but your shaman and Kelton set off at dawn.”
“What?”
His shout must have alarmed her aunt because she dropped his hand as an angry scowl ridged his brow.
“Where did they go?”
“I’m not sure. Your shaman said that he had important business to take care of, but I have no idea where they went.”
“Did they ride back to the Longrocks Mountains?”
“He didn’t mention going back home. I’m sorry, I don’t know.”
Stepping forward to stand right behind Cameron, she nudged him in the back. He took the hint, for when he spoke again his irritated voice had mellowed to a pleasant tone.
“Would you excuse me? I have to speak to Cameron.”
“Of course, I’ll make you two some tea.”
She glided off to the kitchen. When he turned round to face her, she didn’t miss the line of worry between his eyebrows.
“I told you he couldn’t be trusted. Dear Creators, I’m going to have his hide. He did this to us, then he stranded us.”
“I guess, but we’ll just have to catch up with him.”
“How? He could have gone in any direction. Besides, he clearly doesn’t want to be found, which means we’ll never find him.”
“So, what do you have in mind?”
While pots and spoons clattered in the kitchen, he pushed back a string of hair with impatient fingers.
“We’re going north.”
“What? Like this?”
She gestured toward the both of them, her hands seeming to take in her giant size and his long skirt at once.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I assure you I am. Where are your pants?”
Looking around, she indicated the saddlebags she’d forgotten the previous evening in her rush to get to him. He pounced on them and rummaged inside until
he pulled out the wanted item. Without a care for her relative who luckily had her back to them, he got rid of the skirt as if the garment would change him into a woman for real, and put the pants on.
“There. Much better.”
“Sure, you look so much more like a man.”
Neck stretched, he glowered at her. “Just remember you are the Lord of the Clans now. No blushing, and no squeaking like a little girl every time you’re surprised or frightened. Understand?”
“Perfectly.”
Her aunt approached the table, carrying steaming mugs. She smiled when her eyes fell on him.
“Come, sit down, you need something hot in your body. I’m afraid my tea isn’t as good as your shaman’s, but I hope you’ll enjoy it. It’s a pity he didn’t leave me his special herbs.”
Dear Creators! She drew in a sharp breath as Cameron’s gaze flew to her.
Chapter Thirty-One
She grasped his silent message. The day before, her shaman had spiked their drinks with a magical ingredient. Or maybe cast a spell on the tea leaves. Even as he informed her of the training she’d have to undertake at dawn, he was already acting on a very different and aberrant scheme.
Why would he be so intent on swapping their bodies? What could this bizarre exchange achieve in regard to her quest?
Clueless, she accepted the tea her relative held out. Although the beverage didn’t taste like her shaman’s, she liked the weaker flavour. Cameron took a few sips, but soon put his mug down on the table.
“We also have to leave, Aunt Moyna. I’m truly sorry we can’t stay, but I promise I’ll come back to visit you as soon as I can.”
He played her part so well that she had to dip her nose into the mug. Beside him, her aunt opened big eyes.
“Why? What’s wrong, my dear?”
“Everything is fine, don’t worry. It’s just that...” His words trailing off, he pointed a finger at his former self. “There was an attack across the border not long ago. Some tribesmen were wounded, and our lord is taking me there. If I am to save them, we need to leave right now.”
“I understand, Ariana, and I wouldn’t dream of selfishly keeping you here while good men are waiting to be healed. Do what you have to do, my girl, and may the Mighty Gods be with you. I’ll miss you, though.”
“I’ll miss you too, Aunt Moyna.”
He hugged her this time. When they broke contact, Moyna’s eyes watered but she managed to direct a frank gaze at her.
“I’d be very grateful to you, my lord, if you took care of my niece. The roads have become rather dangerous these days.”
The lump in her throat was reluctant to slide down so she swallowed hard before folding her big, calloused hands over her aunt’s.
“I shall protect her with my life.”
Cameron cocked his head toward her as he arched an ironic eyebrow. Well, he’d asked her to assume his role, so there he had it. All the tales about him that circulated from tribe to tribe also spoke of his sense of self-sacrifice, so her flowery reply would without doubt feed the legend.
“Thank you, my lord.”
“You’re welcome.”
She removed her hands, although the separation with her mother's sister twisted her belly. On the verge of letting her emotion show, she went to her saddlebags and heaved them over her shoulder.
Too late she recalled her newfound strength. Driven backward by the force of her movement, she bumped against the table.
She heard the mugs jitter on the wooden surface, but no breaking or sloshing noises ensued. Shifting her weight from one leg to the other to regain her balance, she risked a glance at them. Her aunt looked somewhat disconcerted while he appeared to be refraining from grinning.
Quick to make up for her miscalculation, he pursed his lips and slowly shook his head before offering Moyna a sympathetic face.
“Our lord doesn’t know his own strength.”
Probably disinclined to let her ruminate longer than necessary, he walked to the door but looked back as he stepped outside.
“Goodbye, Aunt Moyna. I’ll be back soon.”
“I shall hope so. Be careful, little one.”
“I will.”
He closed the door once she let herself out, and headed straight to the forest. In spite of the short time they had been allowed, she felt grateful for this reunion with her kin. She might be able to meet with her again after her quest, the Creators willing.
A few paces behind him, she hurried to catch up with him. He walked fast, yet by lengthening her strides she managed to stay abreast. Her mind still on her latest blunder, she couldn’t help but flex her arm muscles. They seemed to swell to the size of balloons every time she clenched her fists.
One eye on the street, she then brought her forearms up and down to watch the beautiful and fantastic display.
“Cut it out, Ariana. Somebody might see you, and you’re acting like a child with his first wooden cart.”
“Sorry, but I can’t believe how strong you are.”
She perceived his satisfaction even though he didn’t show any sign of it. Body swap or not, she had acquired the ability to sense his emotions, and the simple thought made her happy. She may not hold high hopes for the future given her next destination, but these precious moments would stay with her till death.
Or until the Darkening took her.
Back at the camp, they packed up the tent and all their belongings. She only had a moment of confusion when he strapped her double sling across his back before handing her his long, heavy sword.
“I believe this is yours now.”
Afraid of letting the big blade drop, she seized the handle with precaution and grinned as the cold hilt turned out to be a perfect fit in her big palm. While she swished the weapon right and left, she realised that hosting his body meant more than simply pretending to be him. She had become the protector, and she had to guard both their lives at all costs.
He jumped on her horse, more suited to his lighter weight, and beckoned to her. Sitting astride his taller mount felt weird, as though she stood on a high chair. One more sensation she’d have to get used to.
He took the lead. Keeping the horses at a slow pace, he avoided the village of Frahern altogether to follow the edge of the forest. Their time here was over. Now they must face the Darkening.
Past noon, the mild morning turned into a hot early afternoon. Sweat coated her skin, and his sheepskin coat clung to her shoulders like a massive burden. She usually didn’t mind the heat too much, but her body hadn’t yet adjusted to such high temperatures after the cold winter.
As a true warrior leader would do, she tried to bear her growing discomfort without whining, fidgeting, or calling a halt.
Yet as strong sunrays transformed the coat into a furnace, she couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably on the saddle and utter long sighs of restlessness. She wore his body, but she didn’t possess his iron will. Pretty soon, she saw him straighten his shoulders as he stopped his horse to look at her.
“Too hot?”
“Yes. I need to take this coat off.”
“I’ve heard of a special place around here where we can rest for a while. It shouldn’t be far. Can you hang on?”
“Sure, let’s find this place.”
As she grabbed the reins, a cry sounded behind her. He must have heard it too because he glanced back and put his hand up in a “be quiet” gesture. She listened. Without wind to alter her perceptions, she paid attention to the stillness of nature, but their surroundings appeared quiet.
Not a single cloud marred the deep blue sky. Such beautiful weather had to be appreciated after so many gray and rainy days. Then another pitiful cry resonated and Cameron dismounted. Following suit, she went after him toward a massive boulder embedded in the soil.
They circled the huge rounded rock with stealth. She saw a leg first, then a thin body lying on the ground, and she gasped when a grimacing face drenched with tears came into view.
The boy must hav
e been about twelve. Head pressed against the bottom of the rock, his chest palpitated with frantic breaths while his right arm disappeared under the grey boulder. His eyes filled with fright when he saw her, and she quickly raised her hands in a soothing gesture.
“Don’t be scared. We won’t hurt you.”
Yet his eyes kept rolling in their sockets as he dug his heels into the ground in a vain attempt to get up. Just then, her mind registered the sight of her big fingers as well as the rumbling sonority of her voice.
She instantly took a step back, recalling too late that the boy wasn’t seeing a woman, but a giant warrior. She wasn’t yet used to scaring people with her mere presence, but she was learning fast.
Cameron brushed past her to kneel beside the boy. He spoke to the child, his musical lilts tempering her rough undertones.
“It’s all right. We’ll get you out of here, but I need you to be very brave. Can you do that for me?”
The child nodded, the panic in his eyes softening to hope. Cameron observed the underside of the boulder with great care while the boy breathed in fits and starts. Once satisfied with whatever he spotted there, he glanced up at her, and tilted his head toward the rock.
“Lift it.”
“Are you mad? I can’t lift that.”
His annoyed sigh gave her goose pimples. With impatience lighting his gaze, he whispered more than talked.
“Trust me. The rock is broken, and his arm is only trapped under the front side. You can do it.”
He indicated a flat surface above his head before seizing her hands and placing them on a particular spot.
“Push here when I say so.”
She planted her feet deep in the ground. All her muscles strained, she watched him slide one palm under the boy’s free shoulder and roll his fingers around the upper side of the trapped arm.
“Push!”
His shout spurred her on. Gritting her teeth, she applied all the force she could muster against the stone. She felt a vague ripple in the hard mass but, in spite of her efforts, the rock didn’t really move.
“Ariana, push!”
The child’s panicked eyes and heart-breaking yell of pain wrenched her guts more than Cameron’s order.
