Relics and Runes Anthology

by Heather Marie Adkins

  “But, if your brother believes Carmontoff, is it possible your father is dying naturally and Carmontoff is right? That would make you wrong and all of this for naught.”

  “You must trust me in this, Verité. There are many a loyal subject in the palace guards that secretly inform me of ongoing developments. Carmontoff is a man of ill-gotten gains, not the least of which is the one, my father’s throne, he now wants to add to his quiver.”

  “Why not just review his deeds at trial and kill him for treasonous conduct against the throne? Would that not avoid bloodshed, reclaim your father’s health and protect your brother’s life and destiny?”

  “No, it wouldn’t, I fear. If I had been advised of the deceit in process at the outset, I might have been able to thwart the treachery. But I was not. Carmontoff is a clever man and he shrouded his black heart in shadows meant to deceive us all while he laid his people and plans into place. Now, it’s not just he that plans to engage the betrayal. He has indoctrinated many a vulnerable subject to his thinking. It is unimaginable, I know, but now there is nothing but larceny before us.”

  “Please take me with you, Rock. I have abilities you might find useful. I am not your run of the mill girl.”

  “Ah, Verité, your fierceness is captivating. Almost irresistible. But if you are so powerful, I need you at your best. So please stay here…rest, eat, pray that we will prevail without bloodshed.”

  “His Highness is correct, Verité. He has much to do, silently and quickly, if he is to prevail. Your presence with him will only cause curiosity and hold him back. To have his every move under scrutiny because of your presence would be counterproductive. Surely, you can understand that.”

  “Yes, Pere Father. I see your point. Perhaps it would be better for me to appear at a more opportune time, when I can be the most useful.”

  “Excuse me, children. I have prayers in a few minutes and you could use some privacy to say good-byes.”

  “Thank you, Grand Pere. I’ll send word of developments through the staff.”

  “Farewell, your Highness. Until then.”

  The Older gathered the clustered hem at his feet so he wouldn’t trip as he turned and bowed his head slightly with respect. I looked at Rock. I could tell he considered the High Priest more friend than subject as he reached for the vicar’s hand. He bent and kissed Pere Father’s ring in reverence. I wondered if I should do that, too, but the moment was wasted. I felt awkward and ill-prepared for the proper nuances of etiquette in the presence of ministers and royalty. I watched as the robed Older left.

  “Oh, Rock…I know I should feel distress, but I don’t. I feel frustration at your treatment of me as just a girl. I can help.”

  As my breath dropped with my last word, Rock pulled me into his arms and swept me into a kiss so intense, my heart melted in his embrace. It was instinctive of me to push away—push against him. I had never endured such sweet agony, such a desire for overwhelming submission. With one arm around me, his hand gripped my tiny waist tightly. He slid his other hand under my arm to where my breast expanded and I felt his palm glide firmly up my back to entwine his fingers in my hair. Resistance was impossible, unthinkable even. I stopped pushing against his chest and fell into his body. Each sinewy muscle and tendon was a journey of delight for every fiery nerve of my body.

  His waist was taut and flared into his shoulders. I felt the rise of his muscles across his chest and released my breath into the fine hairs nestled in the V of his blouse above his vest. My hot sigh was not without notice.

  “You smell of sulfur and pond lilies,” he said, “a sweet but confounding seduction of aromas. What…what is that from, I wonder? But it doesn’t matter, truly. You are a contradiction in everything…sweet yet sulfurous, soft but tough, respectful but insolent, agreeable yet intractable, infectious and virulent, perhaps vixen or virgin. I don’t know, but I do know I intend to find out.”

  “But, you can’t, don’t you see?”

  “I see what I want, Verité. And what I want is you.”

  “You don't know me, Rock. You couldn't possibly understand.”

  “I know that my life began the moment I saw you. I know the night and the sea painted your hair with a red and onyx shimmer that beckons my fingertips to weave my essence, my heart, through the rich mahogany ribbons.

  “I know the sun swathed your skin in alabaster silk, glistening with a youthful eagerness to be touched.

  “I know the stars have taken up residence in your eyes and the moon has kissed your smile.

  “I know that at the naked nearness of your heat, the earth trembles with anticipation, and your scent…the aroma of fresh lilies and mossy dew…floats across the golden threads of the evening air, breathing life into my soul.”

  I sighed. “You can't possibly understand. We are not the same,” I whispered into his beating chest.

  “I needn't understand because I already adore you. And, of course, we are not the same. I am man, you are woman. I care that you are adored, honored, revered. And I care because I love...”

  “Stop! Say no more. Not another word! We can never be together, never!” I murmured a weak objection into the fragrant darkness.

  “If you will but take my hand…trust me…we can do anything, be anything, love anywhere, as long as we are together.”

  “You may rue the day you met me. To love me is to write your destiny. There is no return.”

  “But not yours? Not your destiny? Does not your future hang in the balance as well? Nothing is a certainty. Only this moment, this time, this embrace. Let me lift you into my arms on but the promise of your kiss, breathe into me, love me and then, so be it…”

  “So be it? You can’t possible know how reckless that is to say to me!”

  “Perhaps, but does the heart care? Does the heart ask before it loves? Does the heart not break if it loses the love it cherishes?”

  “Oh, Rock, you don’t know what you’re saying. I am really NOT like you, not at all!”

  “That will make our love even more unique, even more imperative. But…you do love me, don’t you? You can’t deny me!”

  “Yes, I do love you…from the moment I saw you barefooted and fishing in the surf on the beach of your forefathers. How could I not?”

  “Then there is nothing we cannot do together. Wait for me here. Rest, please, do not worry. With any luck, this whole business will be bloodless and over before my father can perish or my brother lose everything. I will send or come for you.”

  “Of course, I will wait. Better still, take this gem. Wear it around your neck. When you need me, hold the stone and say my name. I will find you, but I need you to wear the stone against your flesh.”

  “Is it bewitched?”

  “No, silly, that is for children. It is an enchanted dragon’s eye charm and it shows me the way. It needs the pulse of your heart to give it the magic it needs to connect with me. If you believe hard enough, I will be there.”

  I took the petrified emerald talisman from around my neck by the leather strap. It did, indeed, look like an eye with an oval and a black cat’s eye pupil. And for very good reason. It was almost pulsating with energy. Rock didn’t need any further convincing as he felt the stone’s sheer heat and power in the palm of his hand.

  “You…you can …you can see through this eye, wherever I am?”

  “Well, in a kind of way, I can.”

  “So, I can add sorcerer and seductress to the long list of your many confusing attributes?”

  I couldn’t resist the rise of a hearty laugh as it came from the bottom of my belly and rolled out to a bellow.

  “Should it not be ‘sorceress’ instead? Or nay, perhaps a sibyl and a seductress? How you do flatter me, Rock. You prove my point, dear sir. You know nothing about me and love me beside yourself.”

  “I know all I need to know about you, my beauty. A sibyl, yes, an enchantress, yes.” He ran his nimble fingers back up through my hair and my knees went weak at his touch.

&nb
sp; The hour had passed and the setting sun glinted through the beveled cabochons in the angular pieces of colored glass in the windows. His face was alive with a rainbow of colors familiar to me. Was he a dragon in a past life?

  “I think it is you, Rock, that wears the mantle of warlock much better than I do witch. I have fallen into your heart and under your spell.”

  “Then we are at squares with one another and quite even. I must take my leave.”

  “I know. Go in safety and return to me, Rock.”

  “You couldn’t keep me away, Verité.”

  This majesty of a man bent while holding me tight and kissed me with a depth of passion never known to me before. I wrapped my arms around his strong neck as much to steady my balance but more to insure he would never let me go. It seemed I molded to his body quite perfectly. It was certainly to my liking when I met with great pleasure, the bulge that announced the measure of his desire for me. Pressed against the tender but slippery mound that rose where my thighs met, his excitement ignited a fever that smoldered and increased into a rolling, rumbling, volcanic eruption that begged more attention.

  Is this the passion humans feel? Is this passion and desire meant for me? I have never known, nor would I live to ever know, another love like this in my lifetime. I surrendered to him despite my reluctance. I surrendered to him despite my ancestry. I was, after all, from royal blood, too, however cold mine ran.

  I had no idea if it was wise for a dragon to love a mortal, but that was no longer a question that hung unanswered in the air. The reply echoed loudly and relentlessly in a silent bellow traveling the Universe for all to know.

  I, Dark Verité, of Fenwick-on-Bothloreyn, from the Land of Nye Loft Wynne, do avow my love for this mortal man. As long as I live and breathe fire, in the name of my father and his father and all those before him, do promise that no harm will come to my love.

  To this I pledge an oath to give my life and honor his.

  5

  Peace in Sleep Only

  I was quite used to finding comfort and sleep wherever I could so I simply sat on one of the old benches in the rectory and curled up into a small ball to take a much-needed nap. My body ached from the transformations and rapid growth of my limbs and torso. Even the arches of my feet hurt. Much of what I felt was truly unexpected and in parts I still didn’t know I had. The room was quiet and plain, with little to entertain the eye or distract one’s attention from one’s purpose. But what was extraordinary was the stained-glass windows that cut the sun’s rays into angled beams of color that danced across the floor, up the walls, across the Pere Father’s desk and making it appear a carnival of distractions instead of color-filled religious inspiration.

  I lay perfectly still as the as the colors danced across my legs, up my thighs, across my belly and each colored beam seemed to stretch, reach, fondle every inch, celebrating the newness of my form. It was strangely exciting and I was mesmerized as the colored fingers danced across my midriff to the soft rises of my pale-nippled breasts. I felt a deep roll and tingle, as though some forgotten scamp tugged and pulled, pinched and tweaked, pitching an imp’s fit for attention. I felt every nip and tug, every flutter and twitch.

  I watched with acute intensity as the colorful fingers danced across all my new bits and curves, then I opened the sash tied above my small cupped breasts. The ties of the sash fell to either side of my body. I was tired, but the methodical trip of the colored beams of warm light across my breasts gave them a magical, almost mystical, appearance. Little mounds of fire and ice, sliced by waves of piercing gold and silver were exciting and tempting. I didn’t want to interfere with the luminous color fall that was almost divine in this mystical, spiritual building. But I could no longer resist.

  I ran my hands up from the sweet V where the heart of my passion rose in a soft mound. The exploration of my body felt curiously tempting but seductive as I ran my timid fingers across the feathery wisps of soft curls the color of rich mahogany tufted between my inner thighs. I knew that womanly decoration matched the topknot of shoulder-length hair that framed my face. It was delightful. The colorful light show danced across my body as though I strummed them as strings and heavenly music rose, surrounding me in joy.

  That was exactly how I felt, my eyes half closed while I floated in peaceful relaxation across the pleasures that were mine alone when a resounding thud sounded from the round handle on the door and Pere Father swished into the room.

  “Forgive me child. I should have rapped on the door before entering. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Grand Pere, please, it is I who invades your privacy. I was enjoying the afternoon light show in the rectory. I was about to nap.” I wasn’t embarrassed. I didn’t know the shame of self-consciousness nor the virtue of modesty. We were all much alike in our forms from my home. But then, these mortals all looked the same for the most part, too. What was there in shame or shyness? What purpose was served, I wondered? Grand Pere turned, his eyes trained on the floor, while I stood slowly, a smile on my face, and tied the sash across my chest.

  “I am sorry I intruded, Verité. It was rude and thoughtless of me. My mind leaves me some days…”

  “It is not problem, Pere Father. My mind was dancing in the light show. We both were preoccupied so no harm to either. And nary a reason to apologize.”

  “Young Verité, are you always this agreeable and pleasant?” He had a pleasant and fatherly smile himself.

  “I try to be, Pere Father, but you would have to ask my own father if he sees me so agreeable as you do.” For some reason, I thought that was very funny and my laughter broke through the somber setting and filled the room with joviality. Pere Father broke into laughter, too.

  “I am sure, if one of your nuns entered, she would think us quite mad. But doesn’t it seem sometimes, when happiness and love fills your body, a little like madness?”

  “Yes, I suppose it does. People go mad for the simplest of reasons, Verité, so anything is possible. But, since neither of us suffer from the ailment, are you hungry?”

  “Oh, yes, Pere Father. I am ravenous. It seems nearly impossible for me to fill this little body to any satisfaction. Could I be sick?”

  “No, little one, I am sure you are very healthy. It apparently has been a long journey for you. It is good you are hungry. I came to get you for the evening meal. Can I get you a gown or robe to wear? Are you cold?”

  “I am cold-blooded by nature, Pere Father, so I am not cold. Not yet at least. But, if it will give you comfort, I will gladly don something a little less like a table scarf.”

  “I think you will be more comfortable, too, Verité, in the company of Supreme Mother and the young nuns. I do not want you to feel uncomfortable at all in your natural God-given beauty. You are a gift for the eye and solace for the soul. It is a joy to be in your company.”

  “Why, thank you, Pere Father. This is all somewhat new to me. My strengths lie in the more basic, the unexpected and surprising. I am fierce in nature and hot.”

  “Why, a little thing like you? I should think that is mostly attitude, Verité, of which I daresay, you have an abundance.”

  We laughed and chuckled. Grand Pere placed his meaty hand upon my shoulder. I think his hearty laughter left him lightheaded and he steadied himself in my nearness.

  “You see how strong I am, Grand Pere?” I helped him to sit for a moment.

  “There is strength in your charm, I give you that, Verité. Thank you, little one. Pour me a small glass of water, please.”

  After I poured His Eminence some water and handed it to him, a rotund woman covered from top to toe in black entered and immediately checked his condition.

  “Magda, I am fine. Don’t fuss. We just laughed a little too hard and I need a brief respite.”

  “Yes, Grand Pere, I heard. I brought your charge a belted robe to wear as you suggested. She must be freezing, the poor thing. You should have told me sooner to bring her garments!”

  “I am called Verité, Mot
her. Please, it is not Grand Pere’s fault. I was not cold or uncomfortable. The rectory is cool and relaxing. I suspect the temperature drops at night in the church and all the ecclesiastical out rooms. The walls must be built like a cave, thick of stone. I find comfort in that alone.”

  “You are a curious one, little Verité.”

  “Yes, Mother. So it has been noted in the past. But I do have my redeeming values, I have been told as well.”

  “Don’t we all, Verité?” She smiled in a warm but tired way.

  “Yes, I suppose we do. You and Grand Pere are in the business of bringing that out in all of us, so I suspect you have your hands full.” I smiled at her warmth and encouragement. I liked this place of worship and peace. It reminded me of the caves at home, cool, calm, comforting and a place of refuge.

  “Are you hungry, child?” she asked.

  “I am famished, Mother.”

  “Then, let’s have a bite to eat. Come Grand Pere. I know from experience that you are certainly hungry.”

  “Watch your insolence, old woman.” But a smile flit briefly, like a butterfly, on his face and his eyes lit up. “What is coming from your kitchen this day, Supreme Mother?”

  “The usual. Sire Rock brought fat luscious sea bass, crabs and a few clam, and I have some potatoes, vegetables from the garden…of course, warm bread and cheese. Does that suit your palate, Pere Father?”

  “Yes, it does, as it does every day at this time. Dress, little woman. Mother and I will wait for you in the hall.”

  “It won’t take but a minute, Pere Father.” I untied the sash at my breast and let it tumble in a colorful puddle at my feet. I looked at Supreme Mother with an outstretched hand. She returned my look but inquisitively. “The garment, Mother?”

  “Of course. What is that, those lumps on your back? Are you injured?” She handed me the robe which I slipped over my head in a single swift movement.

  “Oh, those? That is where my wings blossom. Didn’t you know I’m an angel?”