The Sacrifice

by Nhys Glover

  "So let's get started. There's still a lot of daylight left, but not enough to waste." With these final words spoken by Darkin the men started moving. I jumped to my feet and dragged my stool further out of the doorway.

  As Calun passed, he let his fingertips stroke down my arm and then brought them to his lips. I wasn't sure if he meant to remind me to be silent or if the gesture was meant to be a kiss farewell. Whatever its intention, I felt the tingles from his touch long after he flew away.

  "You like the airlings," Darkin said, coming up behind me. I felt the heat radiating off his body and it felt good.

  "I do. I never thought I would have a chance to ride one."

  He rested a light hand on my shoulder. "You'll do it again, I promise you. But for now, Rama and I will fill a bath for you. A cold bath, except for the water you will use to wash your hair.

  The thought had me sighing with delight. What I would not do to be surrounded by cool water. I wondered if they had any Jemina Oil, an astringent that would clean my scratches and calm the itching from the hessian bags and chaff. I could also work it through my hair to get the knots out before I washed it.

  "That would be wonderful. Do you have to bring it all from the well? And do you have Jemina Oil, or something similar?"

  "From the well or from the creek down behind the house. And we do have Jemina Oil. We use it on sore muscles, ours and the airlings. Rama is lending you an old tunic of his, just until yours is clean and repaired. Can you repair it yourself or will we assign Jaron that job?" There was humour in his voice and I almost turned to look up at him. But it was easier to talk to him when I was facing away. He was far too daunting to look at.

  "I can wash and repair my clothes myself. I can probably sew up the gap in the arms of Rama's tunic too, so that I do not distract Jaron."

  Darkin gave a little laugh and squeezed my shoulder. "You heard every word, didn't you? I wondered. I thought you might have dropped off to sleep out here, you were so quiet."

  "I think I did. But I heard some of what you were saying," I lied smoothly, not wanting to give myself away.

  I heard another chuckle and Darkin's hand was gone. I missed it immediately.

  While I worked oil into my hair and then combed out the knots with a metal tool used on the airlings coats, the two older brothers filled the metal bathtub for me. I knew Rama was looking down his nose at me for letting them do all the work but my limbs were too heavy to move, no less lug heavy buckets of water. And before I bathed I needed to get rid of the tangles in my hair. So he would just have to think the worst of me. Likely, he would have thought badly of me, anyway, no matter what I did.

  Once I was satisfied my hair was free of chaff, dirt clumps and tangles, and smelling much better, I undressed quickly and stepped into the tepid water. The difference in temperature from the hot building to the water was striking and gooseflesh appeared on my skin as I sank in up to my neck.

  Beside the bath on a flimsy table was a bar of soap and a clean scrap of towelling. On the floor was half a bucket of warm water. I decided to wash my hair first, rinse it in the bath before the water became too dirty, and then wash the rest of my body before rinsing off with what was left of the warm water.

  It took far longer than I would have expected. Not because I fell asleep in the bath after my hair was clean and rinsed, which I did, but because I just did not have the energy to do what was needed. When a sharp knock came on the closed door, I forced myself into action.

  "Yes, yes, I am almost finished," I called as I took up the soap again. The air was filled with the astringent scent of Jemina Oil. Not unpleasant in small doses, and certainly better than what I smelled like before, but strong enough to bring my headache back with a vengeance. Even my eyes began to water at the fumes.

  As quickly as I could I finished my ablutions and stood up to rinse off the residue with a quarter bucket of now-tepid water. Carefully stepping out, I dried off with the scrap of towelling and pulled the big tunic over my head. It was every bit as threadbare as Rama had said, and it became almost see-through as my still damp body touched it. I could see my rose-coloured nipples and maiden hair through the fabric.

  This would not do at all. I could not parade around in front of four men like this and expect them to look elsewhere.

  Knotting my hair up in the harem style for women, I inched the door open and poked my head outside, hoping one of the men would be close enough to call to. Of course it had to be Rama who was striding past at that moment.

  "Rama," I called. It was more a squeak than a call, but it drew his attention.

  He diverted his direction and came to stand at the door, looming over me. "What now? You want me to take away your dirty water, like the good servant I am?"

  "No," I managed to say before my throat closed up in fear. After a moment I braced myself and went on. "I do not think I can wear this."

  "Not good enough for you," he sneered.

  I was fed up with his attitude. He reminded me of my brother. Nothing I could do was right or good enough. I threw open the door and let him see me.

  He started at the suddenness of the door opening, and then his gaze ran slowly over my body. I felt my nipples tighten and warmth pool between my legs. The look in his eyes made it very clear that he found me womanly enough.

  After a long moment, during which he seemed unable to drag his gaze from the thin tunic, or more rightly, the body beneath it, Rama finally looked away and cleared his throat.

  "I get your point. I might have another old tunic you could put over that one. The neck'll be wider and fall off your shoulders, but that one'll keep you covered." His voice was suspiciously gravelled and he cleared his throat again as he hurried over to a trunk in the far corner and burrowed into it as if his life depended on finding the tunic in time.

  I could not help the smirk that twisted my cracked lips. I had bested this man, even if I had to be immodest to do it. My mother would be horrified. Women like us were never to be looked upon by men who were not our family or husbands. And none but our husbands should see what I had just shown Rama.

  But I regularly wore breeches, which showed a great deal of leg. And the tear in my tunic today had revealed my breasts to more men than I had ever interacted with in my life. It seemed a little thing to do, to get the better of this annoying man.

  Rama returned to my side, his gaze averted and held another threadbare tunic over my head. He wanted me to put my arms up so he could pull the garment down over me. I turned my back on him in mortification.

  I heard the audible intake of breath behind me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the tunic fall to Rama's side, before I felt the lightest touch running down my spine and along the line between my cheeks.

  It was my turn to draw in a sharp breath. Frozen, I waited to see what he would do next. Hot breath fanned the back of my neck.

  "I've heard that upper-class women wear their hair like this so as not to tempt a man. But do you know something, Princess?" He paused, as if he expected me to answer. I could not have spoken then if my life had depended on it. I was frozen to the spot, every sense on high alert, waiting for what he would do next.

  "Exposing the nape of your neck is one of the most tempting things a woman can do. Do you know why?" He was speaking to me in the voice he used with his airling. No wonder I was hypnotised by it.

  He went on as if I had answered him. "Because this spot just here..." I felt wet lips press softly to my nape and then hot breath fanning the damp skin dry. My legs nearly gave way beneath me. "...is one of a woman's pleasure spots. Men have only a few such spots, but women... women have many. And by revealing this one to me... Well, it's a woman's way to invite a man to pleasure her."

  The meaning penetrated my befuddled mind. He was telling me I was encouraging him. Nothing could be further from the truth. I jerked forward away from his hot breath on that too-sensitive spot.

  Laughing a little, he let me put distance between us. "Don't try to play games with
me, little girl. I'm the beastling of the night that eats little girls like you for dinner. You can't win against me."

  He headed for the door and threw the tunic at me as he went. I had still not moved several long moments after the door had slammed shut behind him.

  Finally I sprang into action, my mind scattered by fury and lust. I used every oath I had learned from the guards and the youths-in-training as I pulled on the second tunic. I hated him! I loathed that scarred monster more than anyone in my life. He deserved every one of those wounds. And more. How dare he suggest that I was inviting his advances. I had turned my back to discourage, not encourage him. How was I to know that my nape was a temptation for him. How was I to know that simply having a man's mouth on that spot could melt my limbs like the sun melted soft cheese.

  I hated that he did that to me. I hated that he used my ignorance against me. I hated him!

  Another rap on the door and I found my voice to give permission to enter. Darkin did so quickly, and the surprised admiration I saw in his eyes went some way to repair the damage done to my feminine sensibilities by his bastard brother.

  "You look much better. And you wear two tunics? That works."

  "The first was too thin. Rama gave me another." I could not keep the disgruntled note out of my voice.

  "What'd he say to you? Please don't take anything he says to heart. He was a different man before the Clifflings captured him. What was done to his face and body was only the outward signs of torture. The inner wounds are far worse. For many long moons we thought he wouldn't come back from that nightmare. He still goes there sometimes. But he's getting better, even though at times he still strikes out like a wounded beastling."

  I nodded silently, not wanting to talk about Rama. I did not care what cruelties were done to him, he had no right to take it out on me. The man I had loved and idolised my whole life wanted to kill me. The other man I thought of as my other half was jealous of all the 'blessings' I had heaped on me and wished me gone. Now another man cut me with his words because I was there, a vulnerable stranger, just ripe for the picking. Ripe for his abuse.

  "Know that every cruel thing he says to you is only half of what he says to himself."

  I flew past him, out into the relative coolness of the shaded portico, yelling back over my shoulder, "I did not ask you to bring me here. I have done nothing wrong. I am tired of men hurting me! No more!"

  I must have yelled louder than I thought because in the next moment Rama came around the corner of the hovel and stared at me with eyes so bleak they stole the breath from my lungs. But I would not feel sorry for him. I would not!

  "No more!" I yelled at him, and the air began to stir. I threw out my arm in his direction and the wind buffeted him backward a step. Rama's mouth dropped open.

  I was past caring if they knew my secret. Past wanting to hide who I truly was out of fear. "No more!" I screamed into the sky as the hot wind swirled around me, twisting the tunics tight to my form.

  I had never felt such power. It exhilarated me. It drove me higher. Had the simple touch of Rama's lips on my skin ignited this whirlwind? My tiny seed of power had exploded.

  I heard the panicked squawking of the airlings in the paddock. The wind was frightening them. Why did they not just fly away? Loose metal on the roof of the hovel banged. Rama was being pushed steadily backward by the gale I was generating.

  "Airsha, stop!" Darkin cried over the wind.

  His panic reached me and I came back to my senses. This was why women should not be allowed powers. We were a danger to ourselves and others. I deflated almost as fast as my fury had ignited. The wind dropped and all was still. Too still. The last of my energy leaked away and I crumpled to the ground.

  As strong arms closed around me I whimpered, "No more..."

  Chapter Seven

  When I came back to the world I realised I was lying on a grass-filled pallet on the portico. I kept my eyes half-closed as I used my other senses to gather information. I was drained, a common sensation these days. But this time it was caused by my powers. Over the years I had experimented in small ways with my magic and discovered that using it drained me. When I had created the gale my already depleted body had been taxed to its limits.

  I could hear voices nearby, raised and angry.

  "You know what she is, don't you?" Rama said angrily. "She really is a princess. And not just any princess. A daughter of the Godling himself. Only his offspring have magic! I didn't even know the daughters had magic!"

  "I heard rumours they go to extreme lengths to make sure they don't. How she avoided being pinned I don't know," Darkin said more quietly.

  "Pinned? She's not a fraggin' airling. What extreme measures?"

  Darkin drew in a deep breath. I could imagine him rubbing at his forehead as he said, "Castration. I hear they castrate any princess who develops powers."

  Rama swore colourfully. "That can't be true. They're princesses, for the gods' sake."

  "That's the rumour. Although I also heard they were drowned at birth if they had the magic mark on them."

  For a moment there was silence.

  "I saw no magic mark on her." Rama's voice was raw.

  "It's probably hidden under her clothes," Darkin answered thoughtfully.

  "No, it isn't."

  Realisation must have come slowly because it was some time before Darkin exploded. "How would you know what's under her clothes? I warned you to respect her! No wonder she flew into a rage"

  "The first tunic was too thin. When she was damp it clung... She showed herself to me like that," Rama argued defensively.

  Darkin choked on the foul string of words that came from his mouth. "She invited your attentions?"

  I was ready to jump up and deny the accusation. I had not been inviting his attentions, I had been trying to prove a point.

  But before I could rouse myself to move Rama replied. "No, she didn't invite my attentions. She's too... innocent for that. I challenged her when she said the tunic wouldn't do, so she proved it's unsuitability by... well, by showing me."

  There was another moment's silence as Darkin digested his brother's words. "That explains how you might have seen her front, but the mark might be on her back..."

  Rama sighed. "I saw that, too. When she turned her back on me. In modesty, or rejection, I don't know which. I punished her for it."

  "How?" Darkin growled.

  "I may've touched her... I may've laid my mouth on her exposed nape and told her she was encouraging me," he admitted reluctantly.

  "You laid your... You mean you kissed her nape?" The growl was even more noticeable.

  "Not exactly a kiss. I was trying to − "

  "Never mind, I know exactly what you were trying to do. I've excused your angry outbursts, your violence and your bloody-mindedness because of what you went through. But I won't allow you to hurt that innocent girl. Do you understand me, brother!"

  I had never heard Darkin speak with such fury. He was the leader. The voice of reason. Now he sounded like a wild beastling protecting its territory.

  "Keep her away from me, then. Because I've no control when I'm around her. She calls to something within me, something primal and overwhelming. I'm afraid of what she stirs in me. The Clifflings unleashed the beastling inside me and she... she feeds it."

  I was shocked beyond thought by his confession. I couldn't understand its meaning but I understood his intent. He was fighting to come back from wherever the torture sent him and he believed that being around me slid him back to that place.

  Another man who blamed me for his lot. Another man who wanted me gone.

  "She calls to something in me too, brother. I'd call it lust, but no lust I've ever experienced felt so protective. I too have my control tested when I'm around her. What separates us from the beastlings is not our urges but what we do about those urges. The Clifflings may've unleashed your beastling, but you're strong enough to tame it. Most people think airlings are impossible to control, but we
know that isn't true. Because of Calun, we know the secret of taming them. Find the secret of your own beastling, Rama, before it destroys you."

  I closed my eyes and allowed Darkin's words to wash over me. I too had a beastling inside me. It was tied to my magic. Rama had unleashed it, or mayhap my father and brother had cut away most of that leash and the scarred man's cruel taunts had just been the last cut that finally severed it. Whatever the cause, the result was obvious. I was an unstable woman with too much power. I was dangerous. I needed to find the secret of controlling my power. Not leashing it again, because I no longer wanted to deny who and what I was, and my magic was part of me. But finding a way to tame it? That I needed to do.

  I heard the flapping of wings and I looked skyward. Two airlings were circling, and each had a rider. In awe, I watched as the creatures swooped down and landed in the nearby paddock, their grace and precision amazing me.

  With renewed determination I pushed up into a sitting position. My muscles complained. From my new vantage point I could see Calun and Jaron unpacking the airlings, throwing their burdens over strong shoulders and carrying them to the barn behind the hovel. As they passed they gave me a cheery wave and my heart lifted. Those two were closer to my age and I felt more comfortable with them. Even Jaron's flirting felt light and pleasurable. Neither of them tempted my beastling to break free.

  Not wanting to face the older brothers so soon after their confessions, I slid off the portico and staggered around the dwelling in pursuit of the younger brothers. My progress was slow, but I was determined not to give in to my weakness.

  I arrived at the great open doorway and looked into the darkness beyond. As my eyes adjusted, I saw Calun and Jaron cutting away at dead beastlings they had suspended by ropes from the rafters. Each expertly slit a daubler down the middle and used their hands and knives to tear away the guts within. The bloody mounds plopped onto the trays beneath with a vile slurp.

  My stomach rejected the sight and I turned away to vomit up the precious food and water I had consumed so recently.