by Karen Nilsen
“That’s because I know proper behavior from you would be a lie.”
He grinned again. “You think you know me so well, but I don’t know how you can, when you run from me every chance you get. I saw how you grabbed Merius at the dance the other night, just to get out of my sight.”
I opened my mouth, hot words trembling on my tongue about Merius, that Peregrine had had nothing to do with me dancing with Merius, that I would have grabbed Merius and pulled him into the dance just because he was Merius and I loved him, not because I wanted to escape Peregrine. But then I realized what I was about to say. The last thing I wanted was for Peregrine to find out about Merius. They would duel, and if Merius got hurt . . . I swallowed. “You’ve been watching me?” I managed finally.
“Of course. I look out for you, Safire. I watch you far more than you realize. One day, pet, we’ll meet each other far away from here, away from your father’s House, away from so-called civilized society. Then you’ll see what kind of man I really am.” A couple landings below, a door creaked open, and someone started up the steps. Peregrine immediately dropped my arm, his lips branding my temple in a kiss so quick I didn’t realize what he was doing before it was over. I raised my hand to slap him, but he was already several steps up from me as if nothing had happened. I shuddered and hugged myself, then hurried the rest of the way to the baths, faint ambergris still clinging to my skin and hair.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Steam swirled around me as the maid added more water to the bath, and I leaned against the edge of the marble pool, inhaling deeply. I took advantage of this luxury every day that I was at court, staying in the hot water and scented bubbles until my fingers puckered. We had baths at home, but the water cooled too fast in the battered copper tub, the grainy ash soap stung the skin, and I never had the chance to soak as long as I wanted.
I closed my eyes, hearing the swish of the oilcloth curtain as the maid left my bath stall. There was a common pool on the women's side of the palace baths, but King Arian had forbidden its use, seeing it as an incentive to fornication and other fleshly sins. Silly king I thought drowsily. My mind wandered in a state half-asleep. Odd word, fornication. Odd and ugly-sounding. I supposed that was what Merius and I had done, though it had felt the most natural thing in the world when he had whispered my name and taken me to his bed. Shouldn't sin have felt unnatural?
The curtain snapped open with a clatter of metal rings. "There you are," Dagmar exclaimed.
My eyes flew open. "Oh no." When I had returned to our chambers over an hour ago, she had been out, and I had left as quickly as I could, not wishing to be there for her return.
"Where have you been?" she whispered fiercely, closing the curtain and standing before it, her arms crossed.
"I'm sorry. I know I worried you . . ."
"I know you weren't in your bed last night. Don't even think of lying to me, telling me you came in late and left early," she continued when I tried to speak again. "I looked this morning before the maids came. The bed was as neat as the night before, not even a wrinkle in the pillow. I know you couldn't have made it up so well, even if you wanted to."
"I wasn't going to lie to you," I said, indignant myself now. "How dare you assume what I'm going to do before I've even the chance to do it?"
"Because you lie to Father all the time."
"What?" I gasped.
"Don't you think I know you've been selling those wicked drawings of yours like some common wench? When you go on your afternoon ride with full saddlebags and return with clinking pockets?"
I shrank in the bath water, embarrassed that I had revealed myself. And here I thought I had been so clever. "Why haven't you told him?"
"Because it would kill him."
"You're right, but we need the coin, Dagmar. I've been tipping the servants with it because Father didn't give us enough."
"That's not true! He gave us plenty. He may be in debt, but . . . how dare you . . ."
"You only think that because you've been using my share as well as yours."
"Don't justify your wickedness with our misfortunes," she sniffed. "Just because we're sparrow nobility doesn't mean you should besmirch the family name with common trade."
"If Peregrine had given me that coin instead of me selling my drawings for it, you wouldn't mind. Somehow it's more honorable to be a rich merchant's whore than to earn an honest living like those women in the market square?"
"Safire!"
"Father was going to sell me to Peregrine, to that lustful toad, all to settle a debt. I'm sorry I lied, but I'm not sorry I sold those drawings. And I'm not sorry about last night, either, except for the fact that I worried you. I shouldn't have done that." I stood up, the suddenly cold water running off my body, took my robe from the hook on the wall beside the pool, and pulled the warm flannel around my shoulders.
"Where were you anyway?"
I looked straight at her, unblinking. "With a man. Does that sound like a lie?"
At that moment the maid returned with more water. Dagmar snatched the curtain from her and closed it in her face. I grabbed the curtain from Dagmar long enough to hand the startled girl a silver coin from my robe pocket. "That'll be all, thank you." Then I snapped the curtain shut again and turned to face Dagmar.
"Did you give her a whole silver . . ."
"Oh shut up--it's my coin. I'll do what I like with it."
"And how can you jest me like that? A man . . ."
"It's not a jest, sister."
She sank against the marble edge of the pool, staring at me. "Oh no, Safire. Safire, no. But how?"
Discomfited that she didn't immediately start yelling, I began to pace. "The usual way, I suppose. Or maybe not the usual way, I don't know. Mother never told us it was like this. She told us it was a sin, and maybe it is. I don't know anymore. All I know is that I love him, and that he loves me. He wants to marry me, Dagmar."
"That's what they all say."
"How do you know what they all say? Have you ever been seduced?"
"How can you be flippant?" she countered. "This could ruin everything for you, for us, and you . . . Who is he, anyway?"
I took a deep breath. "Merius of Landers."
"A highborn man did this to you? He should have more honor . . ."
"We did it together. It's no more his sin than it is mine."
"I heard he was wild, but I had no idea he'd be so dishonorable to seduce an innocent girl," she continued, not seeming to hear me. "This is my fault--I should have kept a better eye on you. Oh, Safire, how could you be so wicked?"
I thought of Merius's hands, the smells of leather and pipe smoke and fresh air that hung around him, the velvet depth of his voice reciting poetry, his crackling silver aura, the laugh crinkles around his eyes, the easy way he carried a sword at his hip, his gently inexorable conquest over all my good intentions.
I tried to hide my grin. "Wickedness comes far more sweetly than you can imagine."
"And Father! How could you do this to him?"
"Father would have sacrificed my virtue for Bara's gold," I said shortly. "It's gone to a worthier cause."
"Fornication is a worthier cause?" she snorted. "At least Bara would have married you first."
I leaned down and splashed her with water from the bath. It hit her straight in the face, and she sputtered. "Safire . . . I'm writing to Father. This afternoon."
I lifted my chin. "You do what you have to do." Then, without another word, I turned on my heel and left the baths. Merius and I were meeting in an hour, and I didn't want to be late.
Chapter Twelve--Merius
Council finally ended with the crackling of fine parchment. The king's scribe sprinkled sand on the official offer of aid to Marenna and blotted up the excess ink before handing it to Prince Segar. He perused the sheet and affixed the royal seal to the bottom as Father, Cyril, and the other provincial ministers lined up around the table to sign it. Stuffing my notes together in an untidy heap, I bolted from my seat. If
I turn in my commission this afternoon, this will be the last council I'll ever have to attend.
"Merius," someone called behind me as I left the chamber.
I turned around, swearing under my breath. Safire was waiting for me up on the parapet with lunch. "Yes, sir?" I said aloud as Herrod trudged up. It had always amazed me, his skill with a blade--he seemed too heavy on his feet to maneuver quickly. Of course, as Father had tried to teach me, speed wasn't everything, and haste could kill.
"Do you have a moment?"
Still swearing under my breath, I followed him to a quiet alcove just off the hall, a place where court cohorts often met before or after council to plot. "Merius," he began gruffly, scratching his head, "I've an offer for you."
"What sort of offer, sir?"
"Well, you've been at the councils, so you know I have to round up a thousand men for this little Marennese expedition. Too risky to take only king's guard--it wouldn't leave enough men here if His Majesty needs them suddenly. But all the same, I need good men, trained men to send--this is no lark for summer warriors. The terrain's rough there, rocks and mountains and canyons. Men are going to be spread thin, and they'll have to be both good archers and swordsmen. Now, your father trained you at arms, which means you're already fit for a commander's post."
"Commander's post?" I repeated, bemused.
He nodded. "I've watched you in practice. Of course, practice doesn't always show a man's true mettle, but I've heard things as well."
"What things?"
"Well, those horse thieves a few weeks ago, for one. Magistrate Lemara's my uncle, you know. He told me how you brought them in. A tidy job, that. You have Mordric's mettle, just what we need."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The wind tore at my cloak as the parapet door slammed shut behind me. I blinked, blinded for a moment in the bright sun. The light had a hard glitter to it up here, particularly in the winter and early spring. I inhaled as another gust swept up from the river far below, carrying the smell of brine from the harbor.
Safire sat on the riverside wall, her feet dangling over the narrow walkway. Clouds raced across the sky behind her. When she saw me, she smiled and brushed the edge of her cloak hood behind her ear. A few tendrils of her hair escaped the confines of the hood, dancing in the wind. The ring I had bought for her yesterday burned in my pocket. I had meant to present it to her last night, but her sister had found us in the library and given us a tongue lashing before I'd had the chance.
Safire jumped off the wall, landing with a billowing of skirts. "You're too late for a kiss."
"You'll kiss me soon enough. Hear my news." I loosened her cloak and pushed the hood back to free her hair. It whipped in the wind, a fiery flag. "There," I said, satisfied. "Ah, leave it loose for me."
"It'll be all snarls," she protested as she gathered it back under the cloak hood. "Now, what's your news?"
I told her of Herrod's offer. "And he says when I return, he'll have a commander's post for me," I finished.
"And how long will this campaign take?"
"Five months. At the most," I quickly amended at her expression.
"Five months?" she repeated faintly. "Oh, Merius."
"Our fighting there could help end the slave trade, sweet. And it's a great honor, Herrod asking me personally like that. And offering me a commander's post. I've never even trained with the king's guard, Safire, just my father . . ."
"I know, dear heart." She put her hands on my shoulders. "Father's always said Herrod was tough as steel and expected no less from his men, and for him to ask you . . . But five months?”
"It's asking a lot of you to wait."
She drew away. "It's hard to meet you and to lose you so soon afterwards . . . the waiting is nothing. It's the worrying. Everyday I'll wonder if you've been hurt or killed or met some fetching Marennese miner's daughter."
"None of them have red hair. I don't think you need to worry." I pushed back her hood again and buried my face in her curls.
"Can I come with you? I could do laundry and cook and bandage. What?" she continued when I chuckled. "Don't camps need washerwomen?"
"They usually do more than the laundry. They're known for keeping things starched."
Her face grew hot against my neck. "You're a rogue. I'd just do your laundry, no one else's."
"Oh, sweet, even if you could come, it'd be too dangerous. If it was a full-fledged war, we might have camp followers. But we'll be moving too fast for that. We won’t have fresh food, much less fresh laundry. Or starch."
"Stop it. I really won't kiss you now."
I grabbed her and pressed my mouth to hers before she could dodge it. "Now, where's lunch?"
She pointed at a small basket near the door. We settled on the wall, the basket between us. There was cold pheasant, yellow cheese, bread, and some more of those damned pears, going soft now but still fine to eat. She pulled a bottle of spiced cider from her cloak pocket, and we passed it back and forth, the cinnamon warm on my tongue. When I'd finished, I drew my feet up on the wall, watching idly as she tossed her crusts to the river below, where the gulls swooped down and fought over them with harsh cries.
"I jumped off this parapet once," I said.
"Really?" Safire looked at the water roiling and churning against the rocks at the base of the wall. "How did you manage not to break your neck?"
"The water's deeper than it looks. And I did break my arm, but that was from hitting the wall."
"You hit the wall? It looks like a straight fall to the water."
"Well, I'd built this glider, you see, and I wanted to test it."
"A glider?"
"I got the idea from watching the wings of the hawks when we were out hunting." I tried to throw a loose stone over the opposite wall, but it glanced off the edge and disappeared in the river. "There's always a wind on this river--I thought if I hit the right air current, I could glide all the way to the harbor. So I went down to the docks and bought some old sail canvas and some wood and put it together. I had to hide the pieces under my bed so Father wouldn't confiscate it. Selwyn and Gerard came up here with me the day I tried to fly it. Well, I shouldn't say try to fly--it did fly. I just angled my dive a bit wrong, and next I knew, I'd crashed into the wall. My right arm gave this snap, and down I went. Of course, it was spring, and the river was freezing from the snow melt. It actually made my arm feel better for a bit, that cold water--numbed it, you know."
"I suppose." Safire shivered. "I'm surprised you didn't drown."
"The river widens out past the palace walls--I fetched up on a bit of shore and passed out. Next thing I remember is Father cursing. The court physician had told him my one arm might be shorter than the other, with how fast I was growing and where the break was."
She tipped her head sideways. "It doesn't look any shorter."
I held out my hands. "If it is, I can't tell. Hurt like hell--still does sometimes when it rains. But I wouldn't change it. Those few moments I was in the air were worth it, swooping down over the water just like a bird. The only other times I've felt anything close to that is when I've raced Shadowfoot down a straight stretch of road. My stomach dropped, and I lost all sense of physical limits. It's like your soul escapes your body, if just for an instant--you feel in the presence of God and free of sin, but not the way the priests talk about it. You know," I paused, stammering, "you know, it may sound odd, but it's the same way I've felt the last few days when we've been together. Free."
She grinned, coyly teasing. "So touching me is like praying for you? You'd make an odd sort of monk."
"You can mock me if you wish, but I'm serious, witch. You bring me outside of myself somehow, free me if only for that instant. Some of the great mystics have written that meditation and prayer can accomplish the same state, though it's taken them years of solitude on their knees to reach it. I wouldn't know, though, since I've never been much at praying."
"Me neither." Safire kicked her feet against the wall. "They used to rap me on t
he head in chapel for falling asleep. So, why didn't you build another glider?"
I shrugged. "Father and the court academy kept me too busy after that to experiment with it anymore. Besides, that was the spring I started noticing girls." My eyes ran over her--her black velvet cloak was too large, which only made her look smaller and paler and even more fey than usual.
"I would have noticed you," I said hoarsely.
"I doubt it. I was short and skinny and freckled. 'Course I still am, and you seem to be noticing me now." She shot me a quick glance under lowered lashes, not shy but questioning. I answered the question by knocking away the basket between us. It rolled on the walkway, its contents scattering.
The rocks were hard, the wind was cold, and it was broad daylight, but neither of us cared. At some point after her cloak fell in the river, we found ourselves on the walkway between the parapet walls, protected from the wind and prying eyes. This was only a brief observation on my part before I returned to the far more interesting business at hand, namely navigating the intricate fastenings and stubborn knots of her undergarments. Her shift ripped as passion overcame patience.
"It's all right," she gasped, one hand clenching against my bare shoulder, the other tugging at my belt. "Just rip it, Merius.”
I guided her fingers over my belt buckle. "Unfortunately, you can't rip leather and brass. Here."
Her giggle deepened to a chortle as I kissed a path down her neck and into the hollow at the base of her throat. I ran my hands under the loose edges of her frock and cupped the undersides of her breasts, her flesh sweet-smelling and smooth as a flower petal warmed in the sunlight. She chortled again as my thumbs found the buds of her nipples. The chortling started deep in her throat, the gathered sound of her entire body trembling at my touch, the blood rushing in answer to the quickened rhythm of her heart, the vibration in her bones as she arched into the curve of my hand. Her very skin hummed under my lips. She was a bird caught in my hands, soft and warm and frail and alive, alive, alive . . . life herself, caught in my hands, her wings ready to spread, ready to fly out over the river.
