by Treva Harte
“Surely it isn’t hurricane or tornado weather!” Jewel protested. “This isn’t the season!”
“What season might that be? The last few years have grown worse. There seems to be no letup in the bad weather.” Mio pulled up the hood of his shirt. “We need shelter. Solid shelter ‘til this passes.”
“If it’s a hurricane that might be days! At home we just pull up the cover and ride it out. Even then the buffeting of the wind is tremendous.”
“We have no such covers here.” Mio snorted. “None in the men’s camps, either.”
How did one survive the elements without the protection of a keep’s walls? Jewel had never given the matter a thought. ‘Twould be no easy matter, that was certain.
Mio’s dragging step began to hurry a little faster. Jewel kept pace easily despite his hurrying. Mio was no fast traveler. She was sure she could out walk him if she wished.
But she had made her bargain. A harsh pelt of rain, harsher than the light drizzle the rain forests usually provided, hit her on the cheek. Hmph. She hadn’t agreed to dawdle until she was soaked through. Jewel took the lead, gradually increasing her speed.
“Yo! Wait!” Mio protested.
“It’s raining!”
“I know. I also know where we can take shelter, woman. You’ll have to stay with me.” He scowled at her.
“Fine. Get on with it then.” Jewel hesitated. “When we do make camp, I shall brew you a special tea that may help the aches in your bones.”
“I need nothing,” He lifted his head loftily and cleared his throat. “Will such a tea work? I’ve tried many a quack cure and got nothing but stomach gripes for my trade.”
“Of course it will work. I don’t provide quack cures.” Jewel glanced at his leg. “I suppose the wetter weather makes it hurt all the more.”
“A little more, a little less--a man must grow accustomed.” Mio glanced at her. “Though I suppose if something could ease the--the discomfort, I could make better time on the trail. I know I slow you down.”
“Not so much.” Jewel smiled a little and slowed her pace. “After all, as you’ve rightfully pointed out, I have no idea where I’m going.”
The flash of lightning made her flinch momentarily. After all, she’d never seen any so close while she was so unprotected. What if one did hit them? For a moment she wondered just how wise her errand of mercy was. Maybe she’d been the wrong woman to be chosen for such a huge task.
Mio grasped her hand. “Hurry,” he urged as if she was the one slowing them down. “You have no idea how bad the storms can be when you are in a valley like this.”
* * * * *
“The rain has begun.” The first pellet hit Ara square in the eye.
“So it has.” Quinn stayed atop the turret, tossing his head back to let the wind rip at his long hair.
“We’ll get wet.” Ara tried not to sigh. Was the man insane? People didn’t stay outside during gales.
“So we will. Are you afraid you’ll melt like sugar?” He smiled at her, a crooked half-smile that almost looked amused. Odd. He only seemed to laugh inwardly. His actual smile never quite spread into warmth.
“I don’t know what sugar is really like. I’ve only heard of it.” Ara hunched against the wind. “Do you know?”
“I’ve had some. During my soldiering in the Hinterlands. There’s still some there.” Quinn caught her long braid in his hand. “You look sweet enough to be sugar, Lady.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
“Ay. You haven’t melted yet. Come, walk with me a bit more.” His hand brushed, almost impatiently, against the stone walls, reinforced with steel. He looked as if he would push the walls down, given the chance. “It’s not too wet. I like storms.”
“You’re mad.” But she followed him down the stairs. “You can see no one else is out here. Any sensible person has long since hidden away. We’re the only ones left.”
“That’s one of the things I like best about storms. When you’re alone in the wind and rain, you feel clean. Nothing else to worry about but fighting against the elements.” He looked around the courtyard. “I don’t usually have such a snug, tidy place to walk whilst in foul weather.”
“I want to go in to the private chambers.” What kind of man was he to ignore such an invitation? Hadn’t he come expressly to be with her, alone, in the castle rooms?
“I’ll be with you in just a few minutes.” He looked almost feverish, pale but with glittering ice eyes. Was he ill, besides?
“As you wish. I shall prepare myself.” There! Could he ignore that?
His mouth twisted again in his version of a smile. Thunder rolled, much too close to them. “Do your best. My arrival may require some preparation.”
Ara clutched her loose fitting gown closer to her as the wind tore at it. She ran for their chambers. The man should be fighting to loosen her garments, not the weather. This Quinn had no sense of priorities.
She fought to open the door, throwing her weight against it, then rushing inside. The door slammed shut after her.
* * * * *
He heard a loud crash in the distance. The winds howled outside. Ulrich knew he’d done some howling himself. With a great effort he opened his eyes to see Maryam, as composed as ever, carefully wiping herself with a washcloth.
“Where--” He stopped, wet his lips and tried again. “Where did you ever learn of such a thing?”
He thought he’d never come, though he’d strained mightily to do so. The accursed--or blessed--band she’d knotted around his cock had refused to allow any easy ejaculation. But once it had…Maryam’s promise had been more than fulfilled. He’d sweated a long time before ‘twas over. A long, pleasurably painful time.
“I read about it.” Maryam smiled, a rare and wide grin. “I must say it did work well. I thought you’d never be done once you started. You enjoyed it, too, didn’t you.” She obviously knew his enjoyment could be taken for granted.
He ducked his head down to hide his embarrassment. He didn’t want her to witness his face turning hot blue. The woman was frightening--wickedly clever and delightful, perhaps--but frightening. She didn’t need to see just what an advantage she had over him.
He feared anything she tried he would enjoy. He knew he’d be willing to follow wherever she chose to lead him in their intercourse. Perhaps even outside intercourse. ‘Twas not an admission a warrior wanted to give a woman. “So long as it gains me a child, I care not what happens.” That wasn’t all a lie. “I have waited for one much longer than you did for me to come tonight.”
Maryam’s smile dimmed. She held out her hand. “So there is some truth to what Ara said in spite? Have you never had any children, Ulrich?”
“No. I mean--I never had a chance to make children before camping at Bloomingdell. I never won a championship ‘til then.” He wouldn’t tell her he’d made a careful study of what the most remote keeps in the region were before setting a trail to Bloomingdell.
He’d picked the place where he was most likely to win favor and been accurate in his choice. Bloomingdell male hangers-on had been easily vanquished in his quest to win favor. But the women had thwarted him. Not a one was pregnant yet. He hadn’t put that in his calculations.
“Never? You’re so powerful!”
He could feel a tinge of heated blue washing over his cheeks again and cleared his throat. “I spent most of my youth fighting for overlords to the West. We were promised what all silly young pups are promised--fine women, riches, fame. ‘Twas a lie. You get nothing for your trouble in the Hinterlands but blood. At least I got nothing. By the time I was done with my enlistment, I was not nearly as young as some of the rest who fight championships back here. There is always a bigger, faster, smarter man to joust with.”
Maryam shook her head. “You’re the biggest man anywhere near here.”
“For all the good that has done me so far. I’ve done with adventuring far away. The only thing I want now is children. A man has a right to pass dow
n his heritage to a son--or have the pride of creating a daughter.” Ulrich sat up, no longer comfortable enough to lounge.
There. He’d confided his most precious dream to a near stranger. A woman stranger at that. What would she say to his desire?
“I. Want. In.” A very high, very determined voice shrieked outside. Something that sounded like a small battering ram--or perhaps just a heavy boot--thumped at the door.
“Oh Goddess, ‘tis my spoiled child!” Maryam gasped. “Go away, Stefani!”
He remembered the small, determined warrioress. Such a child would not go away easily. He wasn’t sure he wanted a hand in thwarting her determination.
“No. Let her in. She misses you.” Ulrich carefully covered himself with the rumpled bedcovering.
“You are very understanding. She’s never been away from me for so long, that’s true. And with her brother finally being sent off to be fostered, she has no playmates. If you’ll excuse me just a moment or two…” Maryam threw her nightrobe around herself and belted it securely before she opened the bolted door.
Stefani tumbled inside, landing face first on the floor.
Once she picked herself up, she ignored her mother’s outstretched hand and walked directly to the bed.
“You! You are a bad big man!” Stefani took one small fist and landed her best blow into Ulrich’s chest.
* * * * *
“What is this place?” Jewel heard a small, scurrying noise in the shadows and moved a little closer to Mio. She stared up at the gaping holes in the stone walls.
“What you think it is, Jewel. This used to be a keep. Castle Lord In Tailer. Back in our grandparents’ time.” Mio fumbled in the darkness and suddenly a small light shone out. “Excellent. The debris here makes the best sort of fire.”
Jewel hesitated between getting closer to warmth and light and scuttling away like the tiny creatures she heard all around her. “It won’t set us on fire, will it?”
“Not used to the wilds, are you?” Mio chuckled. “I know how to keep a fire contained, woman. I’ve heard you in the castle use other fuels.”
“I never pay much attention. So long as the water runs in the power shed, we have light and heat and are able to--” Jewel clamped her lips together. Men were never to know of their puters and the ability to ecommunicate.
They could e notes and have warmth and safety from storms and…
She wasn’t going to give in and miss the keep already. So far things hadn’t gone according to plan, but she’d spent decades wanting to leave her confined life. She wasn’t going to weaken and miss the comforts there so soon, was she? She had a mission. She was going to see to it that Bloomingdell didn’t end up like this ruin.
“Your keep sounds comfortable.” For a moment Mio’s voice sounded wistful. “But males make do with campfires. Like this.” For a moment the light flared up and she saw his face reflected clearly.
He had a nice face. His mouth was still a little too tight at the edges. But his movements were so graceful when he wasn’t walking. She tried to imagine him still younger, still able to move lithely.
His face was suddenly obscured as he stripped off his shirt. Jewel’s breath caught. His muscled chest was nice, too.
“I’m wet. Perhaps the shirt will dry by morning.” He draped it against a broken chair and shivered. Jewel fought back sympathy. No doubt males were used to wearing half-damp clothing, as well as shivering with cold.
He sneezed.
“Tea. You need some tea.” She couldn’t ignore her healing duties anymore. “And maybe a massage. I wish I had some oils with me. You need to get some muscles relaxed. I know they must be stiff by now.”
They’d been walking downhill most of the day into the valley. Jewel didn’t want to think how difficult walking back up the valley would be for Mio. His leg looked slightly swollen from the journey already.
Mio looked fascinated but baffled.
“What is a massage?”
“A rub down.” She held out her hands, palms outstretched. “I’ll work on your muscles with my hands.”
“Yes. A rub down.” He leaned back on his elbows. “Front or back?”
Jewel looked at his erection. One of his muscles certainly worked well. Was the man never tired? She ignored her own dampening. Neither of them were insatiable beasts. Well, she wasn’t. Of course she wasn’t.
“Back,” she told him. “This is for your thighs and back and leg, not--not other places.”
“Not yet.” He turned over. “But remember when and what is my choice. Not yours.”
Since he couldn’t see, she stuck her tongue out at his backside and made a horrible face. Male lout. As if she’d failed to live up to their bargain so far. As if he didn’t need a proper massage. His leg muscles were taut as the vine that had held her when she started on her journey. She dug hard into one tender spot, ignoring his yelp. Almost imperceptibly, his leg relaxed under her prodding. He had knots upon knots in his muscles, no doubt brought on by far more than just their walk today. The man was probably always in some agony.
Jewel firmed her jaw and set to massaging in earnest. The man was too tight. Not just his leg must be screaming in agony. His shoulders were strong but too taut. He needed help.
She certainly wasn’t going to think about how sweet the small of his back felt under her hands. Or how supple his dark skin was, and how it contrasted against her paler skin.
“Take all your clothes off. We need to do this right.”
“Absolutely.” She could almost see his smile, just from the tone of his voice.
She did love that smile. Not that he needed to know how she softened when he grinned. “This touching is therapeutic,” Jewel said, sternly.
“Ab-solutely.”
Her breath caught at the amusement in his voice--and the deeper, sharply aware tone underneath the surface laughter. How could just his voice arouse her?
“What happened to this keep?” She suddenly needed to make conversation, to keep the silence from becoming more intimate than idle chatter would be.
“What do you think? The inhabitants grew careless or weak…or both. The men overran it.” Mio’s voice went flat.
Oh. So such things weren’t just tales. It had happened, just the way the older women of her keep warned all of them--never trust men. They will destroy you in their greed for women. Any woman. She wondered what had happened to the poor women inside. Jewel shuddered. Then she looked at Mio, his head tilted a little bit aside. He was watching her, wondering. Wondering if she was afraid?
Jewel’s chin firmed but she could feel her insides soften. Perhaps she did need a warning about how vigilant a female needed to be against them. Because right now, all she wanted to do was touch the male before her. To trust him with her own body.
How did Mio manage it? She was already forgetting everything she’d been taught about how to behave with a male. She ought to be cautious, not playful.
“You ought to be careful.” His words reflected her own inner voice so perfectly that she almost squeaked.
“What do you mean?”
“All of us think about women, Jewel. We think about what it would be like to overpower them, to finally get to sink ourselves into their bodies.” He wasn’t smiling. His eyes flickered down a little, almost in shame, but his voice kept going. “I spent hours imagining what it would be like before. Thinking of all the details. It gave me great…pleasure. Now you’re here, with me.”
“But you wouldn’t hurt me. You don’t really overpower me.” She said it as much to reassure him as herself. Something was worrying Mio. “You give me pleasure.” There, let him do what he wanted with that admission.
“I might. I could. I wanted to, if you ran.”
Was he ashamed? Afraid of himself? She didn’t know. Despite a little tingly thrill that ran down her spine at the implied threat, she knew the feeling was a spurt of lust and not fear. Because the more he warned her, the safer she felt. The more she wanted to tempt him.
He yelped and struggled, then stopped. “You do trust me, don’t you? Only the Ruler knows why.”
Enough of whatever it was that tormented him. His fears weren’t hers and she had no intention of letting them touch her. Now letting her touch him, that was another story.
“Why? Because I have no sense, obviously. Now do you want this massage or not?” He sighed and relaxed against her hands, allowing her to do whatever she wanted. Jewel squatted over him, stretching one arm, ready to give him a truly therapeutic massage. She intended only that.
So she wasn’t quite sure how she found herself resting her mons tightly against one male buttock.
Goddess, perhaps she was growing as insatiable as the male below her! She rubbed herself--lightly, just lightly--against his skin. No harm in just a small touch, was there?
No harm in perhaps another, more forceful grinding of her pussy against his ass, either. Jewel sighed. No matter where she put her clitoris, it seemed Mio knew exactly how to make it sing. His back was arched now, making it easier for her to rest her body on his--or, not to mince words about her activities--to hump his back.
She could never remember wanting to do such a thing to a man, much less ever doing it. But he felt so good all over. He had said they were to enjoy themselves, not just worry about making babies. She groaned. She was enjoying herself. Perhaps something was changing about her. If she wasn’t careful, she might find herself volunteering to give her favor once again. There were such women in the castle. Ones like P’trice who pouted and sulked if they weren’t given to men constantly. Jewel had always thought them quite odd. Now she wasn’t so sure.
She slid her clitoris more gently against the bony ridges of his vertebrae. Goddess, she was sopping. She didn’t care if Mio knew. No, she wanted him to know. Jewel played with her nipples, twisting them suddenly, urgently. She was aching. She wanted. She…
“I can do better than that if you let me turn over.” Mio’s voice was choked.
“Perhaps. But I like this well enough.” Strangely enough, she did.
