He was half of her flesh.
Her longing for Gaia drained from her.
Jerad moved back from her and held her hands. Then he imparted a scrutinizing, heated look along her length that left her feeling as if her clothes were dripping right off of her. Sera smiled. She was becoming accustomed to his desire for her. She was starting to almost welcome it…enjoy it…almost. Sera released a hardy breath. Sera wanted Jerad. This she could admit to herself. It was as if she had always known him. Yet, there was something, a barrier that still fed her wariness, an apprehension that had little to do with the fact that they had only met a few rises ago.
She could not quite put her finger on it.
"What do you have on under there?"
"Under Where?" Sera snorted at her unintentional pun.
Jerad moved closer, his mouth curved into an impish grin.
Sera skimmed her hand along the sword belt at his waist and then along the hilt of the sword. She looked up, smirked, and flicked a single finger under his chin.
"Wouldn’t you like to know," Sera teased, as she turned to swagger away.
Jerad caught her about the waist with one arm and pulled her back against his chest. "Perhaps a pair of knee breeches?" His voice vibrated enticingly against her ear.
He referred to the tight fitting half trousers that the women wore under their skirts, which served to preserve their decency, should they engage in a fight, or a great wind caught their hems. Unfortunately, Mesari did not realize that Sera had no such undergarment and failed to bring one.
"No." Sera had no idea why she was indulging him.
"Then what?" He playfully stroked her ribs with his fingers, tickling her.
"Stop it!" she laughed.
"Tell me or I will torture you."
Sera continued to struggle from his grasp, laughing, twisting her body. He held her captive with one arm, and was relentlessly tormenting her with the other hand.
"Nothing!"
Now why did she just admit to that?
Jerad stopped abruptly, and a sensual flicker appeared in his eyes. He groaned, turned her, grasped her about the hips and pulled her against him.
"I liked that scanty, lacy loin you wore under your own trousers. Perhaps Mesari could fashion one or two or ten pairs for you."
Sera bit her lip at the reminder that Jerad had removed her clothing in the clinic. She went still, her abashment apparent, but she had little time to dwell on it. Jerad reached in front of her and began gathering up her skirt.
"For now I will see what is under here."
Sera grabbed the hem of the gown to stay it, feigning indignation. Jerad’s attempts weren’t forceful. His actions were merely mischievous. He could have easily stripped the gown from her body if that were his intent. Then he ceased, releasing the garment with a chuckle . He curved his palms around the back of her head, and nuzzled his cheek to her forehead.
"I tease you Sera." He kissed her brow and whispered in a husky voice, "I already know what is under there."
Sera skewed her face. He did know. Jerad had seen her naked more than she cared to think about. She did think about it however, and an unexpected heat slunk along her flesh. For a brief moment, she had a tantalizing thought of his hands roaming her unclad body.
Jerad released her and scanned her body once more. His dark eyes smoldered. The garment hugged her like a second skin. It draped smoothly over her shoulders and clung to her breasts. Her nipples nudged through the material and he was certain he could see a hint of areola. His gaze moved lower to the curves of her waist and hips, then further to the juncture between her shapely thighs where a slight, triangular swell was visible through the material. There was no other way to describe it.
She looked--provocative.
Jerad harrumphed and moved to the clothespress. He opened it and withdrew a long, white satin cloak. He arranged the garment around her shoulders and drew it closed at the front. Satisfied that it sufficiently covered her, he fastened it at the collar with a lavender bloom clasp.
"We leave the dwelling today. I would suggest, strongly suggest, my Starbird, that you retain the modesty of the cloak, less I find myself set to lay waste to any man in the Corridor who sets a lustful eye upon you."
Jerad took her wrist and led her from the bedchamber. Phoebe was patiently waiting outside. Jerad pulled out a drawer in the desk and reached behind the back of it. He retrieved a ring of metal keys--skeleton keys, Sera recognized. They left the dwelling, and entered a hallway. It was a short passageway that ended with a solid wall on one side and a large, wooden door on the opposite end. There were several doors along the walls to either side.
"These apartments are all part of our residence."
He inserted a key in a lock and opened the first door, located directly across from the living chamber. Inside and to one side of the room, an accouterment of weapons, armor and tools, were hung on walls or neatly placed on racks. On the other side of the room, bundles of both practical looking and luxurious fabrics were neatly stacked on shelves. Jerad approached a blue, velvet roll and fingered it.
"If you wish for an item to be sewn by the seamstress you may choose any of these materials. Her payment is usually a bit of extra cloth to use as she pleases."
He then moved to a large coffer and opened it with another key. It was filled with a variety of colored gems in various sizes, along with gold, silver, and reddish metal nuggets.
Jerad scooped up a handful. "These can be used in the agora for purchases. Some merchants will also barter for ready-made goods. You will learn what is valuable to each merchant, and use your judgment to trade for the goods you want to obtain."
He pulled a small, leather sack from a pocket on the inside of Sera’s cloak and dropped in the pieces. He drew on the string laced around the opening to close it, and replaced it to the cape’s pocket.
"What is here is yours, Sera."
"How did you get all of this stuff?"
"There are mines throughout the mountainside. Our laborers excavate the raw materials, and they are paid either in raw materials, food, or wares. I earn my keep as defender of the Tenth Zone and with my position as Noble Chancellor on the Magistrate Council. Sometimes I receive goods for my healing skills. Some items I earn through contest."
Sera’s attention was drawn to the sword she recognized as Zoren’s, but then she noticed something else. On the weapons rack a familiar blade was tucked into a baldric. She recognized that hilt. It was Sondra’s blade.
"Why is this here?"
"I laid claim to it for you."
"I don’t want it."
"You have earned the right to wear it, Sera. It is acceptable."
Jerad lifted the blade and held it out to her. Sera turned her head away. Remembering her lack of sword skill, Jerad recanted. Her refusal was probably for the best. She might cut off her own arm. He would have to teach her how to use the blade first. Jerad returned the weapon to the rack.
Jerad led them from the room after closing and locking the chest. He then locked the door.
"This room is kept locked, mostly to dissuade temptation, although I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to try and breach it. The living chambers of all Nobles in the castle are well guarded, though its inhabitants are highly trustworthy.
Jerad slipped into the living chamber to return the key ring to the drawer. He reappeared, holding two keys. He locked the door to their private chamber, and then clipped the keys to his belt.
"The remainder of the rooms I keep unlocked."
He opened another door further down the hall. Cool, damp air rose from the depths of what looked like the entrance to a cellar. Jerad uncovered the glimmer orbs anchored to the stone walls, as they descended a flight of stairs. It led underground to a small pantry, where a modest amount of edibles, some fresh, some cured, and a stock of hard beverages and wines were stored.
"This is our personal stock. It is checked daily by the kitcheners to ensure the food is fresh. What needs to
be consumed immediately is taken to the main kitchen to be used or sent to the commoners to be given away."
There were three rooms remaining, two comfortably furnished guest bedchambers, and a large, empty room with a large balcony that overlooked the castle’s courtyard.
"If you find a use for this space Sera, you are welcome to it."
Sera’s immediate thought was to make it a sanctuary to hide from her consort’s overactive libido, but ochi, he would likely find her there.
She would probably let him.
They passed through the door at the far end. Jerad slipped a key into the keyhole. With a couple of clacking sounds the deadbolt slid into place.
"I only lock the main entranceway when I am away from our apartments."
They descended a stairwell, which rounded to a lower level and terminated into what appeared to be a larger, central spine. It was wide enough for the three of them to walk side by side and still allow ample room for others to pass. They were hailed by the watchman, who was posted there, and Jerad handed him the keys. The guard clipped them next to others on a ring attached to his belt, and the three of them continued on their way.
The walkway was lit by a row of blue crukis windows, separated by mullions that lined the wall on one side. Being that it was early in the rise, the windows were presently clear. A large mural ran the expanse of the opposite wall.
The painting depicted the birth of Protogio and progressed through various stages of its history. It included life size exhibits of daily life in the Corridor, craftsmen at work, warriors at swordplay and citizens engaging in festivities. It ended with a great winged creature swooping down on a battleground, which was being fought under a darkened sky of falling, luminous stars.
It took a moment for Sera to realize that she was looking at a rendition of the Edict of Oneroi. She dug in her heels to slow their pace. Jerad noticed her interest in the artwork, and stopped to oblige her.
Phoebe took Sera’s hand and looked at her with an approving smile.
"My sister is intrigued by you."
Sera patted Phoebe’s hand, feeling a bit uneasy at the girl’s enamored expression. "I am no one special Phoebe."
"Oh, but you are." Phoebe pointed to the eyes of the Ptino asteri painted on the wall and then cast her gaze to Sera’s eyes.
"The color of your eyes is unique, Sera. Not another has been seen with such." Jerad offered an explanation. "The artist was likely spiritually inspired when he painted it."
"Its a coincidence, Jerad," Sera gawked at the face of the creature, entranced by its golden eyes, set deep into a human-like face, cleverly painted so that its gender could not be defined. Its head was graced with black, feathery looking hair that draped over the creature’s shoulders. The silvery body was that of a bird, with two broad, fully extended wings. On its back sat four omnipotent deities, who appeared to be giving powerful command to the flying beast beneath them.
"The sons of Hypnos, Sera. They are collectively known as the Oneroi."
"Is that bird supposed to be me?" She creased her brow at the hybrid. "How ludicrous."
A rumble swelled in Sera’s gut as a laugh burst from her lips. "Oh that’s priceless. It’s just the way I want to be immortalized!"
Jerad examined the mural, and then turned to her, perplexed.
"Four men riding me?" Sera quipped. She chortled, and then bellowed an uncontained guffaw. She wiped at tears that welled in her eyes.
Jerad glowered at her. He shook his head, unsettled by her ridicule of the Edict. She did not understand the significance of the divination. Protogio’s survival, its future, depended on her knowledge of the Key to Orion’s belt. Without it, his world would be destroyed. Jerad swallowed his rising indignation, allowing that her amnesia caused her ignorance, and proceeded to tug her down the passageway. To his annoyance her laughter resonated throughout the hallway.
"I am glad you find our doctrine so amusing," he groused, as they moved down another hall and through an arcade. It opened to the outside courtyard. Two guards hailed them as they passed through, as did a number of citizens who lingered about the outside area.
"Jerad, that can’t possibly be me. I am just a person." Sera stated emphatically.
Jerad glanced at his sister. Phoebe looked affronted by Sera’s behavior. "You are offending my sister."
She was offending him as well.
Sera noted Phoebe’s distress and stifled her mirth. "Oh, Phoebe, I don’t mean to upset you. I am sorry,"
Sera pulled Phoebe into a hug. "But you need to understand that it is just too unbelievable to think of myself as some kind of divine, saving grace. I barely know who I am, not alone what I left behind."
It was Phoebe who halted this time. She frowned.
"Brother, if she cannot accept her moira, who will save us when the Nyx warriors come?"
"Have faith, little sweet. All will come to pass as predicted." Jerad attempted to console her. He was not sure he believed his own words.
He sighed with exasperation.
Jerad hoped that the mural would have triggered some awareness within Sera. Nothing else had worked so far. The spectrocorde, although its euphonic spectrum affected her, as he knew it would, was of no help. Giving her fragments of Protogio history and bits from the Edict had not worked either, nor did telling her the story of the Gaians who came before her. She needed to read the Edict of Oneroi in its entirety. He withheld showing it to her at first, concerned that she might suffer anxiety if too much returned to her at once. He meant only to encourage her memories and gently guide her into acceptance of her fate. It was his obligation as Keeper of the Key, so he suspected, since the Ptino asteri had been delivered unto him. It was what he was sure the Oneroi would expect of him, and nothing less. He would have to think on this.
"Come my ladies. All will be well." Jerad motioned them on with a sweep of his hand, but he continued to share Phoebe’s uneasiness.
Chapter Ten
It was a spectacular showing of flexing muscle and clashing swords. There were at least twenty Nobles in the Grandstage arena proudly demonstrating their warrior skills. Phoebe explained that on every third rise, the squires and sometimes the pages, warriors in training, practiced quintain and running at the rings. Both feats were performed on horseback. In quintain the participants used lances to charge at a target attached to an arm. The arm extended from a pole and was designed to swivel around and slap the horseman if the lance was ill placed, often knocking the rider from the horse. Running at the rings was also accomplished with lance and horse. Wooden rings, with a center opening, two to four finger widths, were suspended. The object was to collect as many rings as possible with the tip of the lance. Both sports were relatively safe and served to enhance the visual acuity, accuracy and discipline of the younger warriors, before learning to joust against another horseman.
More able warriors often milled about, tittering at the clumsiness of the less experienced Nobles, taking bets at who might be successful and who would be downed first. Some participated to offer training. More often than not, and to the agitation of the Master Trainers, the apprentices would be crowded from the Grandstage floor. The arena would then erupt into full-blown jousts with the seasoned, gold ringed knights’ intent on flaunting their prowess. During the joust exhibitions, metal or leather armor would be worn and the lances were weakened to splinter easily. The lances were also rebated or blunted. Even still, it was not unusual for injuries to occur. At these times Jerad and Ezra were kept very busy in the clinic, unless of course Jerad himself had sustained an injury, and he spent a rise or two recuperating, only to be continually chastised by Ezra for his foolishness. Fortunately it did not happen often, as Jerad was quite skilled with the joust.
On this rise sword practice would prevail over all events. The Masters would see to that. The ability to wield a sword was highly valued by Nobles and Commoners alike. It was their primary means of defense against their enemies. All citizens in the Zone were encouraged to
learn the skill, although only Nobles were granted the privilege of showmanship within the walls of the Grandstage. Commoners held their demonstrations in the hills and open fields. Sometimes the Nobles joined them.
The swords were rebated to diminish the possibility of fatal injury, but as with the lance, a few hard blows could cause severe bruises or broken bones. The intent however, was not to harm, but to disarm.
At one end of the floor, youngsters, who had not yet reached their maturity, were also involved in the swordplay and dagger maneuvers. Some were eagerly snapping cloaks and swiping at their opponents with wooden daggers. Others were trying their hands at the sword. Phoebe was one of them. Her male opponent matched her height, but he was more muscled. He still possessed an adolescent physique however, not quite as brawny as his adult counterparts. Phoebe disarmed him of his sword a number of times. She had remarkable skill even at her young age, but took her own share of defeats. At the moment, she was sitting on her bottom, having been bested by her contender. He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet, then laughed and embraced her in a solid hug. It was then that Sera took notice of the pleasantries that passed from one Noble to the other. Despite their aggressive natures, the citizens seemed to be an affectionate horde. She observed a female warrior smack the bottom of a male as he entered the arena. Another male leaving the floor threw his arm around the shoulder of his male opponent and leaned on him, as they conversed with each other. Amid their bantering and swordplay, they touched each other, a lot, but all in the show of camaraderie. They truly seemed to care for each other.
Through the corner of her eye, Sera caught sight of a sword propelling through the air. She turned to see Jerad standing over his female striver with the dulled tip of his sword planted firmly at her throat. The woman laughed and cried for a halt. Jerad moved the blade aside, offered his hand and pulled her to her feet. The woman lightly slapped his cheek with an open palm before exiting from the playing field. Jerad thwacked her butt. Sera’s spine stiffened at the gesticulation, and she was surprised by the twitch of jealousy that suddenly enveloped her.
The Third Corridor Page 12
