VirtualHeaven

by Ann Lawrence

  At the palace, she walked quickly through the deserted corridors to Kered’s quarters. Her tiny cubical was doubly empty without a sound from the many other chambers. Every servant was celebrating elsewhere. Maggie pictured Kered at the banquet in his honor to be held at the great palace hall. She knew Einalem would dazzle every male eye.

  She curled into a ball and focused on home. For the last few nights she’d been preparing herself to leave Kered by picturing her family’s faces and imagining their joy if somehow Nilrem should find a way to send her back. But the tears that welled and fell had nothing to do with family. They were the direct result of the day’s ceremony. She had no worthy part in Kered’s life. If only they had not fallen from the bench at the bathhouse! Then they would have had an unbreakable bond between them.

  The dream came again. Always the same. Kered snatched from her arms. Blood dripping.

  “Wake up, Maggie. ‘Tis naught but an evil dream.” Kered drew her into his arms and stroked her hair. For a brief moment, she curled against him as she had so many times on the quest, then, as if sensing that things had changed, she drew away.

  She bent her knees and clasped her arms around them. “I’m sorry for disturbing you. Is the banquet over already?”

  Kered shrugged. It would not do to tell her he had left early to come here to watch her sleep. “I am weary. This kneeling is meant for younger men.” He rose and unbuckled his sword belt. Maggie stood up, took it from him, and went before him to the chamber housing his cupboards. When she turned around, the light streaming in the chamber window glinted off his new arm rings. Slowly, Maggie reached out and traced the two gold rings. He covered her hand with his.

  She slipped her fingers away, then rummaged in his cupboard and withdrew a cloth-wrapped bundle. “I made you something at Mada’s shop,” she said.

  He held the gift, weighing it in his palm. “You are satisfied with the arrangement I made with Mada?” He hoped she was pleased and content.

  “Sure. He’s a dear. I guess you got lots of gifts tonight.”

  Kered nodded, then cocked his head to the side. The orb-glow from the window lit one side of his face and east the other side in shadow. But the intensity of his gaze boiled her blood. “Open it,” she urged.

  Carefully, he pulled back the cloth and revealed the silver and glass turtle. It was large enough to cover his palm. “‘Tis beautiful.” He turned it in his hands, admiring the detail.

  Maggie tugged on his arm and led him to his chamber. She spread a map and took the turtle from his hand. With a few quick motions, she demonstrated.

  “Nilrem’s knees! ‘Tis a marvel. I can read the tiniest of words, see the faintest of lines.”

  Like a child with a new toy, he opened roll after roll of maps, spreading them out and moving the turtle across their surfaces. Maggie enjoyed his delight. Next she would make him ketos, she thought, like the pair she’d made her brother, Joe. Ketos, which had begun as leather armbands to protect a Navajo warrior’s wrist and arm when using a bow, had developed into wide, bracelet-like silver bands. She could imagine them on Kered’s magnificent arms.

  Stop it! she chastised herself. You’re going home. You won’t be making him any more gifts.

  Kered gathered her in and hugged her. “You are a thoughtful woman. Why is it that Tolemac has no such wonderful device?”

  “I suspect few of your people have trouble with their eyes. You’re the only person I’ve seen here who peers at things as if he can’t see them clearly.”

  “A lamentable weakness in a warrior.”

  “Mada told me others might think that weakness makes you unfit to lead.”

  “He is correct—some might. I care not what others may say. Your gift will open a world for me that I thought was growing closed.”

  Kered turned away from his charts and sank down on the edge of his bed. He rubbed his temples with the heels of his palms. Maggie climbed on the bed behind him and took over the massage.

  “I want to go to Hart Fell, Ker. I want to find my way home,” she said and knew it wasn’t a lie. She couldn’t last much longer living with him, just serving him, not really being a part of his life.

  He leaned his head back against her and closed his eyes. “I will take you soon, I promise.”

  “Okay,” she said. She’d been expecting an explosion or a refusal. Part of her had wanted the refusal, part of her, the answer he’d given.

  “Vad has been promoted. He will take my place as head of my army. He is a good man, compassionate and fair. Maggie?”

  “Yes, Ker?” She stroked her fingers along the edge of his jaw, then back to his temples.

  “What do you think of a warrior who hates fighting?’’

  “I think he has probably seen too much bloodshed and knows the folly of it all.”

  He grasped her wrists and turned around to face her. “I have been raised for no other purpose—”

  “Your mother raised you to be a killer?” She linked her fingers with his.

  “No. My mother died long before she could shape my future. No, Leoh directed my ways. When I would lose myself in books, he would have them destroyed. He taught me bitterness and anger, impotent anger directed where I could not spend it, and I turned it on our enemies. As I buried him, I realized my mouth is bitter with the taste of my life.

  “The swords in my cupboards have sent many to hell and heaven—good men and bad. Yet who can tell which is which in the heat of battle? Who can say, this man, his lifemate is ill and needs him at home? Or this man, he abuses his daughter and should go straight to his death? No one! One just thrusts the blade home and watches the blood flow. I do not want to be buried until I have weighed the scale with life and hope against the blood I have shed.”

  “Then I shall pray you have a long life,” Maggie said, stroking his temples again.

  Kered moaned softly and captured her hand, bringing her fingers to his lips. “My Maggie. What is it about you that makes me bare my soul? Tell my secrets?”

  The air between them grew charged. His next words startled her. “You wish for me to make love to you, do you not? You cannot say the words, can you?”

  Whatever answer he wanted, he would get the truth. “Yes. Please.”

  He shook his head. His hair slid off his shoulder and the silk of it caressed her bare arm. “I will not make love to you, Maggie. It would be dishonorable of me.”

  “Why?” she cried. Her blood was racing, her nerve endings screaming.

  “I am taking you to Nilrem’s mountain. A free man may not lifemate with a slave. You may love me, Maggie, but we cannot have each other.” He rose, and despite the evidence of his desire for her, he turned away and flung open the long windows. The wind whipped his hair, and his silhouette blurred as her tears gathered and flowed. “The council wishes to renew the lifemating contract between Einalem and me.”

  The pain of it was worse than she could imagine. “And will you? Lifemate with her?” Maggie shouted.

  He strode to the bed and gripped her arms, dragging her up to kneel at the edge. “No. I will not have her. I cannot have you, I will have no one.”

  “Who will know what we’re doing here?”

  “I will know. When you quicken, everyone will know.”

  “Vad said there were potions—”

  “Poisons! I will not have you sicken and die for love of me, and I will not spend myself on the sheets like some boy during a dream.”

  “You found what happened between us in the shepherd’s hut shameful? Is that it?”

  “Aye, Maggie. I lost control of myself from extreme fatigue. I have seen my awareness master. I have renewed myself. I have regained my reason and control. I am well rested now.” He let her go, removing his hands. “No matter how I feel, I will not succumb to these desires. You are going home.”

  Chapter Twenty

  As Maggie hurried along the roadway, she saw a sight that made her smile. Not much had brought a smile to her face these past few weeks. But th
is did. Kered stood resplendent in his white and red tunic among a crowd of children on a green sward, the towers of the palace behind him. He tore sheets of paper into small pieces for them, so each could have his or her own. Going down on one knee to their level, he folded the paper just the way she had shown him one morning when he’d caught her idling away the time, waiting for Anna to return with water for his bath.

  Now he soared his plane high, and a flurry of little planes joined it. The children’s laughter delighted her and touched her with sadness. Soon she would be gone.

  “Maggie,” he called, leaving the children to a chorus of protests as he fell into step beside her. “Where have you been?”

  “Walking,” she answered noncommittally.

  An uncomfortable silence fell. At his quarters, he changed his clothing and strapped on a sword. She assisted him as a squire might.

  “I want to leave for Nilrem’s mountain tomorrow,” she said.

  “Are you commanding me?” he asked, his tone sharp.

  “No, of course not. I am just anxious to go. It’s been ages since you promised.”

  “I will have duties to attend to for a few more weeks—’’

  “Weeks?” She turned away. She couldn’t stand a few more weeks. It was all she could do to keep herself in her bed each night and not go to him and beg him to reconsider.

  She paced his chambers after he was gone. When Vad arrived, she barely greeted him.

  “What ails you?” Vad asked.

  “Kered. He won’t take me to Nilrem’s mountain.”

  “He is negotiating the Selaw treaty now.” Vad began to rummage through Kered’s belongings, looking for the deck of cards Maggie had made for him during her many idle moments.

  “Could you take me, Vad?”

  He froze, a startled look on his face. “T-t-take you? Kered would remove my jewels with a dull knife and feed them to me for supper. Are you mad?”

  “No. No. You don’t understand. I didn’t mean, could you make love to me. I meant, could you take me to Nilrem’s mountain?”

  Vad pressed his hand to his heart and heaved a sigh of relief. “Forgive me. So many women beg me to take them, it was the first thing that entered my mind.” He patted her shoulder. “I most enjoy your company, Maggie. You do not pet me and pull at my clothing. Now, where have you hidden the cards?”

  “I’ll get them.” She sighed. She fetched the box from beneath her bed, and they sat on a brightly woven rug and spread out the cards. “What did you want to play? Five-card stud? Gin rummy? War?”

  “War!” Vad cried.

  “I should have guessed,” she said with some amusement. As she dealt the cards, he lifted the pendant from the box. “What became of the chain?”

  “I bartered it so I could make a gift for Ker. A ring ceremony gift.”

  Vad frowned. “It is an ill deed to part with a talisman.”

  “It was just a chain. Now, will you take me to Nilrem’s mountain?”

  He stroked the edges of the cards, considering her request. Maggie held her breath.

  “Why do you wish to go?” he asked.

  “Kered has a life here that doesn’t include me. I don’t belong here. I don’t fit in. The best thing for both of us would be for me to go home.”

  “Aye, I can see you are unhappy. I will take you. This idleness chafes at me, too. And every night some woman is lying in wait for me outside the barracks. A journey with you would be refreshing.”

  Maggie and Vad played cards for an hour in comfortable companionship, switching from game to game. “Kered told me you are a virgin,” Vad said.

  The cards flew from her hands. She fumbled about gathering them. “I can’t believe he told you.”

  “‘Twas a confidence. He said he wants you to return home as he found you.”

  Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. “Well, I don’t want to leave without knowing what it is like to be…with him,” she said, dealing the next hand for a game of gin rummy.

  “Then seduce him. Surely, all women are born knowing how?” Vad took a card from the pile in the center and cursed before he put it into his hand.

  “Don’t curse; it gives hints to the other player.” She picked up a three and discarded a nine. “I don’t think I’m much of a seductress, or something would have happened by now.” She bit her lip. “Where I come from, virginity is not such a highly prized item. If I hadn’t told him, we might now be lovers,” she finished wistfully.

  “Then do not be a virgin!” Vad grabbed a card and began to hum.

  “Discard, you cheat. How do I lose my virginity?”

  “The day after tomorrow is Virgin Day. Go with the virgin slaves to the god Phallus, and sit upon his rod.” He tried to pick two cards, saw Maggie’s face, and sheepishly slipped one back.

  “Gin!” Maggie cried and slapped down her cards in triumph. “What are you talking about? The god Phallus? Are you pulling my leg?”

  “Pulling your leg? As I said, Kered would cut off my—”

  “No, no. Jest. Pulling your leg is making a jest.”

  “Your speech is most odd. Why can you not say what you mean?” He rested his elbow on an upraised knee. “The god Phallus is a remnant from the ancient times. He sits in the oldest part of town. On Virgin Day, the virgin slaves who are ten-and-five dress in white ceremonial gowns and weave flowers in their hair. They dance about the god and then sit upon the god’s erect shaft.”

  “That’s absurd.” Maggie snorted.

  “Perhaps, but ‘tis a ritual from ancient times and still practiced. Oh, and I almost forgot, kissing the bloody prepuce is considered good luck.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  “See for yourself. Sit upon the god and shed your blood. Kered can hardly protest that he would be ruining a virgin if you are no longer intact.” He clasped his hands about his knee.

  Maggie shook her head over the absurdity of the conversation. “It would be easier to seduce him.”

  “That was my first suggestion,” he said smugly. “Wear your blue gown; it clings most fetchingly to your breasts.”

  “Vad!” Maggie felt heat creep across her cheeks.

  “‘Tis true. It brightens your eyes, too.”

  “Thank you for the fashion advice.” Maggie rose and poured Vad some wine.

  He shrugged. “Should you wish to change your mind about the god, I shall bring you one of the ceremonial gowns the virgins wear and a wreath of ribbons and flowers for your hair. ‘Tis best to be prepared.”

  She handed him the goblet and then sat at his side. “I couldn’t do it. But if I tell Kered I’m no longer a virgin, do you think he will still think it’s wrong to make love—if he’s taking me home?”

  “Maggie,” Vad said, leaning forward, “Kered will not take you home if he makes love to you; he will never let you go.”

  “But I’m a slave in your world. We could never be together.”

  “That is so. You could only love here, behind closed doors. Is it enough for you? Do you know that any children you produce will be naught but slaves as well, perhaps taken away and raised elsewhere? Can you bear it should the council insist that Kered lifemate? If not, come to me and I will take you to Nilrem.”

  Kered’s chambers were quiet and empty in the cold afternoon’s gloom. Kered stood a moment and listened. Only his boots clicking across the stone floor marked his wandering from chamber to chamber. At long last, he stood at the threshold of Maggie’s small cubicle. He drew her scent into his nostrils and closed his eyes. How often had he stood here and watched her sleep, wanted to climb in beside her and feel her body curl against his?

  A glimmer of white caught his eye. Conscious of trespassing on Maggie’s private domain, he stepped to the foot of her bed and lifted the blanket neatly folded there. He stared down at a soft white cloth. It unfolded to reveal itself to be a flowing garment suitable for ceremonies.

  Ceremonies.

  Kered gripped the dress in his fist and threw up the lid to Maggie
’s coffer. There on top was a wreath of flowers entwined with ribbons.

  Virgin Day.

  He tore the wreath to shreds, scattering the blossoms across the floor as he stormed from the room.

  Mada acknowledged Kered with a curt nod. When Kered jerked his head toward the door of the workshop, Mada cleared his throat and touched Maggie briefly on the shoulder.

  “If you have no need of me, child, I think I will be seeking my supper.”

  Maggie nodded, her eyes glued to the silver ingot she was painstakingly pounding on the metal. She had never cared for sheet silver and had hammered her own at home, so the task was one of comfort and familiarity. Sweat trickled down her temples and between her breasts from the heat of the roaring hearth.

  Mada scurried out the door of the workshop, and Kered dropped the bar in place.

  A prickle of sensation made Maggie look up, her hammer poised over her work. “Kered.” She breathed his name.

  The hearth painted a copper glow on his hair and bronzed his skin. He raised his fist and she gulped. Clutched in his hand was the ceremonial gown Vad had insisted on giving her—and a few ribbons.

  “Why?” he choked out.

  Carefully, so she didn’t fling it at him, Maggie rested the hammer on the anvil. “I’m going home, Kered. I didn’t want to leave without knowing…what it would be like—”

  Kered flung the garment to a wooden bench. “You had but to ask.”

  Maggie picked up the hammer and smashed it to the anvil’s surface. It rang up her arm and stunned her joints. “Ask? When? Before or after you lifemate with Einalem?”

  He stepped up to her and tried to take the hammer from her fingers. “You would give yourself to a god of stone?” he shouted.

  “Of course not! Vad suggested it. He gave me the gown. I told him it was stupid, but he thought that if I did, perhaps your precious conscience wouldn’t keep us apart,” she shouted back.

  Kered let her hand go as if burned. “Ah, my precious conscience.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “This, Maggie, is what bothers me, not my conscience.” He swept his hand out to the forge.