Throughout eternity.
Fore’er, eternally.
Oh warrior maiden, come away with me,
Your kiss would be e’er sweet.
Oh warrior maiden, come away with me
And make this man complete.
Make this wandering soul complete.
Is there a gate within your heart
Where I can slip inside,
To a place of golden silvery light
And magic moonlight rides?
Of magic moonlight rides.
Oh warrior maiden, come away with me,
Your kiss would be e’er sweet.
Oh warrior maiden, come away with me
And make this man complete.
Make this wandering soul complete.
Fall upon my breast, my sweet,
I’ll shelter you from harm.
Behold the lovebeats of my heart
That beg to keep you warm.
That cries to keep you warm.
Oh warrior maiden, come away with me,
Your kiss would be e’er sweet.
Oh warrior maiden, come away with me
And make this man complete.
Make this wandering soul complete.”
My eyes were brimming with tears. The song touched something deep inside and I found I was unable to speak. All I could do was gaze into his eyes as he leaned forward, placing his lips upon mine.
I closed my eyes. Joyful tingles danced from my head to my toes, but when Gwin’s hand came to rest upon my waist, an unfamiliar burning ache sparked to life deep beneath my belly. I wrapped my arms around his neck, still clutching the flower, consumed by the smoking sensations provoked by the kiss.
Then the whoosh of a wooden sword plunged through the space between us and we leapt apart.
Rudne stood beside us and he began roaring with laughter.
“You idiot,” I shouted. “You could have hurt us!”
His laughter subsided and he wiped at the tears the laughter had brought to his eyes. Then his voice got hard. “You two looked ridiculous. Come on, Gwin. We have to go. Now.”
He grasped Gwin’s arm, forcefully escorting him away. All I could do was watch them go, my countenance fully unraveled.
Rudne looked back at me and winked. “I’ll see you again in the spring, warrior maiden.”
By the time they departed, I had pulled myself back together, and strode angrily to the house. Rudne may have thought the kiss quite hilarious, but I had liked it. I had liked it a lot, and I spent that entire winter singing Gwin’s song and dreaming of his kiss.
Rudne returned after the winter’s snow retreated, and he had come alone. From his perch atop the bay, he tossed me a sword of steel and bronze, sheathed in leather. “It’s time you learned how to handle a real weapon, Elva.”
“Where is Gwin?” I asked, noting the definite difference in weight between this sword and my wooden one.
“He no longer wishes to come.”
He didn’t want to come? What had happened? What about his song? What about our kiss? I had waited all winter to see him again; now he didn’t want to see me anymore? What had I done? I was able to endure Rudne as long as Gwin was present. Oh, Gwin, don’t desert me now. Don’t desert me ever! It had to be the kiss. He hadn’t like it. He hadn’t liked kissing a girl with beastly, ugly ears, and now I might never see him again. I wanted to cry. I could feel the tears creeping upon me like a malkin on a mouse, and I choked them back. There was no way I could allow myself to cry in front of Rudne.
Rudne dismounted. “It’s just as well,” he said. “He was only distracting you, anyway. Now that we fight with real swords, you can’t afford to be distracted.”
“He did not distract me.”
“Yes he did. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. The way you hug and touch whenever you see each other. I saw the way he kissed you. If he continued to come, you’d be more interested in what he has inside his bloody trousers than in wielding a sword.”
I don’t know why he thought I’d be interested in Gwin’s trousers. “Even if I did think such things, Rudne, it is no concern of yours. I am quite capable of keeping my attention focused where it needs to be focused. Gwin is my friend, and I would prefer him to come with you.”
Rudne shrugged his shoulders. “He chooses not to. Am I supposed to force him?” He tied his horse beside the house. “Come,” he said, motioning me to follow. “We will begin in the woods today.”
We worked our way into the woods, the hem of my robe continually getting snagged against the brush. At one point, it nearly caused me to stumble. Rudne kept scowling, shaking his head. “That robe you wear is an impediment. How can you move about in that thing?”
“I manage just fine.” I hiked it up above my ankles.
“You may manage fine for play fighting, but you’d be better off in warrior rigging. Why don’t you take it off for once and see how much better you can move without it?”
“I will not take it off.” I was astounded. I had nothing beneath the robe. Did he think I wished to expose myself to him?
He stopped and glared at me. “Take it off, Elva.”
“No.”
“Then I will take it off for you.” He thrust his hands forward and I glared at them. From deep inside, my power rose up. His hands froze in midair. His golden eyes flickered in shock that quickly flamed into rage. I released my mind and his hands dropped back to his sides.
Anger reddened his face as he shook his fist and shouted, “If you ever use your magic against me again, wench, you can bloody forget about ever becoming a warrior! Don’t forget your oath of bondage. And don’t even believe that you can join the Service without my help. I have the power to get you in and I have the power to keep you out.”
Our eyes locked. Oh, how I despised him, but I knew I needed him. No matter how I felt, I needed his help.
“You cannot move effectively in that thing,” he stated. “And it’s not like it’s any big secret what you have beneath it. So do as I tell you and take it off.”
I glared at him, making no move.
“If you really want to be a warrior, you will take it off. If you don’t take it off, I’ll bloody leave right now and never come back, and you just see how far you get without me.”
Hurling my sword to the ground, I untied my belt and flung my robe aside. For a moment, he just stared in surprise.
“You’re hairless,” he commented.
“I have hair,” I snarled.
“You don’t have your womanly hair. Now, pick up your sword and let’s fight.”
I did not know what womanly hair he was referring to and I was tired from expending my power, uncomfortable with my nakedness, and the unfamiliar weight of the metal sword was cumbersome. My thoughts refused to stray from Gwin. Many times I faltered as we parried in the woods.
The third time Rudne forced the sword from my hand, he shoved the tip of his blade against my throat, forcing backwards to the ground.
“Are you a warrior?” he asked, standing above me, his face flushed.
“Yes,” I hissed. “Now let me up.”
But he kept the blade to my throat. “Are you truly a warrior, Elva?” His eyes glinted wickedly, disturbing my Telling.
“I am a warrior.”
“But are you strong?”
“Yes, I am strong.” The look in his eyes was frightening me. He was turning scarlet.
“It’s time to test your strength. Are you going to cry, Elva? Or are you a warrior?”
“I am a warrior, Rudne. I don’t cry.”
He tossed his sword aside and untied his trousers, setting his pego free.
What did he intend to do with that? It was all red and erect and surrounded by a crown of hair. The sight of it caused me to quail, but I dared not reveal my fear. My Telling urged me to escape, but whatever this test was, I would not fail. “I am a warrior,” I shouted, trying to hold onto my fleeing courage.
“Say it again,” he demanded a
s he knelt down, pushing my legs apart. “And no bloody magic, Elva. Be a warrior. Prove your mettle.” He pinned my body down beneath him.
“I am a warrior,” I gurgled as Rudne stabbed that thing at me. He stabbed and stabbed until it finally broke through and went up inside. Pain ripped through, but I stifled my tears and he kept stabbing and stabbing at me, working hard at this test, but no matter how many times he jabbed it into me, I endured the pain and the humiliation with the strength of a warrior, refusing to whimper or shed a tear.
I must have passed the test, for he finally gave up with a groan and released me, looking down upon me with a nod of approval. “You did well,” he puffed, climbing off me, wiping the sweat from his brow. “You handled that just like a warrior. No tears.” He closed up his trousers and began to chuckle. “Get dressed. Our lesson today is over.”
On quaky legs, I arose. There was blood on my thigh, and I winced. He had hurt me. I could barely walk and he had made me bleed. But I wouldn’t let him know my pain. He would never know the shame I was feeling. Finding my discarded robe, I gratefully slipped it back on. I had passed the test, but it seemed odd and extreme. I couldn’t understand its purpose.
“Must all warriors endure such a test of strength?” I asked.
Rudne gave a smug, self-satisfied laugh. “Get used to it, Elva. You belong to me and I’ll test your strength anytime I want. Practice with the new sword. When I come back, I want you to be capable of wielding it as properly as you were the wooden one.”
“Will you bring Gwin?” I tried to keep the wobbles from my voice.
“If the worm wants to come, I will bring him.”
I did not accompany Rudne as he swaggered back to his horse, staying in the forest instead. Only after I was certain he had departed did I set my tears free.
I was still crying when Skile came wandering by near sunset.
“Elva, what is wrong?” he asked, kneeling beside me.
I turned my face away, too fearful to let him see my tears—unwilling to let him see my pain and inexplicable shame.
“That boy who comes … the one who teaches you about fighting,” Skile spoke, his voice soft. “Did he hurt you?”
I nodded, keeping my face turned away.
“How did he hurt you?”
How could I tell him? It was too horrid to describe.
Skile did not speak quickly, taking his time before asking, “Where did he hurt you, Elva?”
Hesitantly, I pointed to the spot between my legs.
Skile groaned and sank to the ground beside me. For many moments he did not speak. Finally, he asked, “Did you want him to go there?”
I grappled for my voice. “No. He said he was testing my strength. To see if I would cry.”
Skile groaned again, holding his forehead in his hands, slowly shaking his head. “Forgive an old man’s folly, Elva,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ve devoted so much time teaching you about one world, that I have neglected to teach you much about the other.”
He took my hand, gently stroking it while speaking in his soft, explanatory style, “You see, my child, there comes a time in a man’s life when he desires to join his body with a woman’s. When a man and woman love one another, they will express it through kissing and touching because it brings them pleasure. And the ultimate pleasure they receive is when they meld their bodies together as one. That union is meant to be a mutual expression of love and affection between a man and a woman.”
“I don’t love Rudne, Skile. I hate him. There was no kissing and he brought me no pleasure. He just … It just hurt, and made me angry and ashamed.”
“I know,” Skile said quietly, patting my hand. “I know. But he may have brought you something else, as well. When a man and woman engage in this union, Elva, the man plants a seed inside the woman, and if that seed germinates, the woman will then bear the man’s child.”
“Oh no,” I cried, staring at him in horror. “I don’t want to bear his child! Please, Skile, please tell me I won’t bear his child. I would rather die.”
He shook his head and frowned. “I cannot promise that you will not, Elva. Only if your cycle fails to come when it is due will you know that a child had been conceived.”
Oh, what had Rudne done to me? Did that horrid brute think I loved him? Did he think I wanted his child? Skile had told me that my cycle would enable me to have babies one day, but he’d never told me how those babies came to be. If I’d known Rudne had been trying to plant a baby in me, I would have stopped him.
“We are going to be warriors,” I whimpered. “Why did he want to plant a baby?”
Skile put his arm around me, giving me a gentle squeeze. “Dear, dear child,” he murmured. “He wasn’t interested in a baby. It probably never even entered his mind. And, unfortunately, that union is not always an act of love. Taking you without your consent, the way he did, was only an attempt to prove to himself that he is more powerful than you. But don’t you believe it. All he did was prove that he is a dishonorable coward with a weak will. He may have taken something from you today, Elva, but don’t let him keep it. Don’t let him get away with stealing your dignity or your strength, because he does not deserve them.”
I gazed into Skile’s eyes. Those eyes, so filled with the wisdom of the ages that looked back at me in compassion. I hugged him tight, needing his strength, and he wrapped his arms around me, gently patting my back.
The tears rushed from my eyes again. “I didn’t let him see me cry, Skile,” I blubbered. “Even though he hurt me and made me feel weak and ashamed, I didn’t let him see me cry.”
“That is good,” he murmured. “A man who takes a woman against her will wants to see her cry. It is part of his purpose and makes him feel more powerful. But don’t ever let him have the power to make you feel less than what you are, for if you let him make you feel bad about yourself, then his conquest is complete and you will be giving him power he had no right to have. Power that belongs to you.”
He lifted my chin up with his fingers, looking deep into my eyes. His eyes twinkled and a small sly smile played across his lips. “If you would like, I could turn him into a toad.”
“You could really do that?” I relished the picture in my mind as I wiped the tears from my eyes.
“It would be difficult, but it could be done.”
Oh, how I would love to see it happen, but I shook my head and frowned. “I still need him, Skile. I don’t want to need him, but I do. I need his help to become a warrior.”
“Becoming a warrior is that important to you?”
“Yes.”
“Then let me tell you something,” Skile spoke. “If he tries this again with you, just keep in mind that that part of him that he used to try to prove his own prowess to himself is actually quite vulnerable. A good sharp impact on those tallywags would bring him to his knees and make him wail like a baby.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“Trust me.” He gave me a wink. “Even the king possesses such a weakness.”
Less than a sennight had passed before Rudne returned. I hadn’t been expecting him; it was far too soon.
I was out upon the wold, gathering nightshade and peppermint, worrying about the possibility that Rudne had planted a child inside me. A child would ruin everything. It would be impossible to love it. Oh, I hated him for trying to put a baby in me. A baby neither one of us would want. The fire inside swelled with my anger and I allowed it to warm me.
My basket was nearly full when the reverberation of hoof beats shook the ground. I turned to see Rudne’s bay galloping across the heath. I didn’t want to see him yet. A part of me hoped I would never see him again, but that desire was useless, for he was on his way and I could not avoid him. Quickly, I pulled my cap from my pocket to secure my ears.
Upon reaching me, he reined his horse to a stop and his red wrathful glare froze my blood. He said not a word as he slid from the saddle. Drawing his sword, he thrust the tip against my breast, forcing me backwa
rds to the ground. The basket fell from my hands, the contents spilling back onto the earth from which they had just come.
“Look at me,” he shouted, spittle spewing from his lips, glaring at me with hateful, golden eyes. “Look what you’ve done to me!” It was no mystery why he had come. All upon his face, arms, and hands, were dozens of gnarly warts, some large, some small, giving his skin a beaded texture.
Skile was surely turning him into a toad after all!
“Take it back,” he demanded. “Take this spell off me now. You are my wizard, and you’re not to use your magic against me. No matter what.”
“I … I didn’t do it, Rudne. I don’t have … the power.”
“These things are all over my bloody body,” he yelled. “They didn’t get there all by themselves, and I want them off!”
He nudged his sword harder against my breast and behind him, I saw Skile walking our way at a leisurely pace. “Well, well now,” Skile spoke. “Is this a lesson in surrender?”
Reluctantly, Rudne withdrew his weapon and I slowly rose back to my feet.
“Your protégé has cast a spell upon me,” Rudne growled, showing his warty arms to Skile. “I merely want her to remove it.”
Skile shook his head and stroked his beard. “Oh, I doubt that Elva has done that to you, my boy. She’s not yet reached that level of wizardry.”
Skile and Rudne locked eyes and I shuddered. Would Rudne dare raise his sword against Skile? What would Skile do to him then?
“Please, Skile,” I pleaded in Rudne’s behalf. “Please remove the warts.” Much as I loathed him and enjoyed seeing him plagued with such hideousness, I knew I had to appease him if I were ever to see my dream through.
“I will see what I can do,” Skile muttered, keeping his eyes upon the boy as if speaking a silent warning. When he spoke again, his voice was stern. “You will behave yourself young man, and treat this girl with respect, or you will have to deal with my wrath. And I assure you, that is not something you wish to do.”
He turned and continued on his way, leaving Rudne clenched and quivering.
“And what did he mean by that?” Rudne turned his cold gaze back to me.
The Legacy of Skur: Volume One Page 34
