“Why the blazes not?”
“We have more to worry about.” She pointed west where, shimmering in the pure light of early morning, the bulb towers of a city glistened.
16
Sun King
J’Hiza was the first town Ginger had ever seen besides Sky Flames. It was gigantic, teeming with life, over a thousand citizens. Grayrider’s hooves clopped on the yellow cobblestones as Darz rode down a street, guiding Grayrider through people, sheep, geese, and squawking rock-hens. Signs creaked on poles, and merchants stood in front of their shops, gossiping with their neighbors. Scents filled the air: spices, perfumes, and the stink of animals crammed together.
“What do you think?” Darz asked. “Too noisy?”
“It’s different.” She hesitated. “But interesting.”
He laughed in that easy way of his. “I’m not sure that’s an accolade to J’Hiza.”
She wasn’t certain, either. “Where are we going?”
“To the guilds, to find merchants who are about to travel. They might let us go with them if we pay.”
“We have no coins.” They had nothing to trade, either, except the horse and sword, neither of which belonged to them.
“Your brother gave me your dowry,” Darz said.
She hadn’t expected that. “What dowry?”
“One hundred silver hexa-coins.”
“Really?” It was a decent amount, more than she had ever seen. “I didn’t know. I hope you aren’t disappointed.” She had no idea if he came from a well enough placed family to expect a larger dowry.
He brushed his hand over her hair. “It’s fine.”
“Darz?”
“Hmm?”
“Will it disappoint your family when you show up with me?”
He was quiet for so long, she wished she hadn’t asked. Then he said, “I don’t think so.”
That wasn’t exactly a ringing assertion. “You aren’t sure?”
“It’s complicated. My family is small. But intense.”
“Oh. I see.” She didn’t really, but she was too tired to pursue it, even if he had been willing to tell her about them. It hurt too much to think about facing more censure. Nor was that her only concern. Now that the sun had risen, she couldn’t create spells of succor, and her injuries hurt terribly.
“Can we stop first, before we go to the guild?” she asked.
He sighed, and she thought he would tell her no. Instead he said, “Aye, Ginger-Sun. I meant to.” He bent his head over her. “You are different from other women I’ve known.”
She wasn’t certain how to take that. “Why?”
“They expect coddling. You keep going, always stoic, and hesitate to make even the simplest, most reasonable request.”
“Oh.” That didn’t sound like he was disappointed. “Thank you.”
So they went, looking for an inn.
Darz dumped the bags on the floor of their room, which was on the second story of the inn. Logs were stacked by the fireplace, but Ginger couldn’t imagine needing a fire. The morning had barely started, yet already the heat sweltered, making it hard to remember how cold the desert became at night. The room had a table with two rickety chairs, and a bed against one wall with a chamber pot beneath it. A washstand in one corner held an earthenware bowl, a ewer, and a metal tray with soap. High in the wall, a window glowed with early morning light, though the sun was too low to slant through the glass.
“You rest,” Darz said. “I’ll find the guilds. I’ve seen signs for glassmakers, weavers and crop houses.”
“You need to rest, too.” She stood in the center of the room, acutely aware she was alone in a strange town with a man she had known for less time than anyone else in her life.
Now that she could see Darz in the light, she realized how awful he looked. A ragged black beard covered his face, bristly and thick, and sand crusted his clothes. The scar snaked from the corner of his eye to his ear. His hair hadn’t been washed or brushed since the last time she had done it, fourteen days ago. He was a mess. She didn’t even know what he actually looked like. He had been injured at first, covered with bandages, and then the two of them had been buried.
Perhaps that was why neither Kindle nor Heath recognized him. She had hoped one of them might know Darz from their time in the army, to corroborate what he had said about himself. She told herself he looked different with his beard. Besides, thousands of men served in the army. Their chances of meeting him were slim. She could almost believe that explanation. Almost.
“Why are you staring as if I am a misbehaved boy?” he asked.
She felt her face redden. “My apology.”
“Accepted,” he growled. “Now please answer my question.”
“It’s just that—are you going out like that to see if anyone will let us travel with them?”
“Like what?”
She cleared her throat and shifted her feet. Watching her, Darz squinted. Then he went to the wash table and dumped the soap off the tray. Holding up the metal, he peered at his reflection. With a wince, he said, “Ah, Ginger-Sun, you are ever the soul of diplomacy. I look like an ogre someone dug out of a mine.” He glanced at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll make myself presentable.”
She hesitated. “Perhaps a bath, too, if they have one.”
“Ach! All right.” Laughing, he said, “I am not usually this scruffy, wife. You haven’t married a scalawag.”
A tentative smile curved her lips. “I’m glad.”
He stretched his arms. “Do you need more salve on your back?”
“Later.” Shyly, she said, “I would like to clean up now.”
“Ah.” He stood and smiled at her. After a moment, though, he said, “Oh! Do you want me to leave?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Ah, well,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to be around my smelly self, either, if I were you.”
This time she did smile. “It is good for everything about a man to be strong.”
He burst out laughing. “All right! I’ll find a bathhouse.”
“I’ll wait here.” She heard how soft her voice was next to his robust style. She hoped he didn’t think she sounded as if she were in need of coddling.
“I’ll try not to be long.” He hefted up one of the bags and went to the door. Pausing, he looked back at her. “Don’t open this for anyone. I’m going to lock it, and I have a key, so you won’t need to let anyone in. Don’t go out, not even down to the common room. It looked a little rough.”
“I’m just going to sleep,” she said.
“Good.” He grinned at her. “I’ll see you, then.”
“That sounds fine.” It felt unreal to be with him in this strange place. She had to remind herself the taboos no longer applied. Yet as strange as this felt, it wasn’t unwelcome. For the first time in years, she looked forward to her life. She felt apprehension, too, for the unknown and her uncertainties about Darz. She had no idea what to expect, whether they would suit each other or struggle to eke out a living. But her new life held promise, if she and Darz could find their way together. Right now, on the doorstep of a future she had never imagined, she could hope, for reality hadn’t yet given her a reason otherwise.
After Darz left, Ginger undressed and washed with the soap and the water in the ewer. She treated her injuries as best she could, steeling herself against the pain. To dry off, she used a clean shirt she found in the travel bag, and silently promised Darz she would wash it later. It was odd to think she would be doing such tasks for him now, too, as well as herself.
It was too hot to wear anything. Nor did she want garments to abrade her wounds while she slept. So she slipped under the sheets in her bare skin. Although worn and patched, the linens smelled of soap. It wasn’t such a bad place, nothing as pleasant as the temple, but she could adapt.
Ginger didn’t know what wages an army officer earned. At least she and Darz had her dowry to help them get established. She might be able to join a temple in Quaaz,
not as a priestess, since they would have their own, but as an assistant. She and Darz couldn’t live in the temple if she wasn’t the priestess. Perhaps he lived in a barracks. Or maybe he had a house. She didn’t need anywhere grand, just a home where they could raise their children.
The thought of making those children made her body tingle the way it had this morning when she awoke to his caresses. Her thoughts drifted….
Light awoke Ginger. She sensed it even with her eyes closed. Heat surrounded her, and she should have been afraid after what happened in Sky Flames. But this inviting warmth didn’t hurt. She could burn in this fire unharmed and survive as if it were a crucible.
Disoriented, she opened her eyes to find that golden light filled the room. Holding the sheet in front of her body, she sat up with her back to the wall. Through the glare, she could just make out the door; it was still closed and bolted. Sweat beaded her forehead and palms and dripped down her body. No candle glowed in the room. No lamp burned. Nothing showed anywhere to cause this incredible radiance.
A shape took form within—and of—the light.
At first it was no more than a swirl of color: gold, red, yellow, topaz. Gradually a figure of fire emerged. Its long neck arched to the high ceiling. The great reptilian wings spanned the room and went through the walls, unconfined by barriers. Its gigantic tail curled around on the floor and ended in a deadly ball of spikes. Flaming scales covered its body.
“Dragon-Sun,” she whispered. “Have you come for me?”
The colors coalesced into a new shape, no longer a dragon, but a form she had never seen in any statue or picture. He had become a man. He wore clothes of flame and his skin glowed with the luminance of the sun. He was twice the height of a mortal man, and his head reached the ceiling. His hair of flames wavered in the air. When he stepped forward, fire rippled along his body. She shrank against the wall and clenched the sheet to her chest.
The man blazed, yet nothing burned. He sat on the bed, and the sheets didn’t burst into fire. Flames from his body enveloped her with warmth but caused no harm. Even sitting, he was taller than any man, his head larger, his shoulders broader, his legs longer. He reached out his arm, and she pressed back against the wall.
Ginger-Sun. His voice filled her mind.
She didn’t try to speak, knowing her voice would tremble. I am your priestess, she thought.
He touched her shoulder. I am pleased.
I’m sorry I transgressed against you.
You have not. His thought darkened as he lowered his arm. The others have transgressed.
Would you have let them burn me?
I am a ball of fire, not the conscience of man. I cannot control the minds of you who call yourselves humanity. You are responsible for your choices and the deeds you commit, whether they be great or heinous. The flames around his body flared until they blinded her. She lifted the sheet and covered her eyes.
Look at me, Ginger-Sun.
Shaking, she lowered her hands. She could see, but his light filled the room, radiant and terrifying. Will you burn me?
No. His voice rumbled within her. Seeing you in agony did not please me. Had no one taken you from those flames, then when I rose the next morning I would have burned the land until it set the village afire.
Then you aren’t angry with me?
No. You are my bride, Ginger-Sun.
Ah, no. It was true, she had taken the vow. But she had assumed it was symbolic. All priestesses are your brides.
This is true. But you please me more than the others.
Dragon-Sun—I am sworn to another.
Anger saturated his thought. He calls me a myth. A tale. A lie.
He doesn’t understand! Please, don’t kill him.
I shall not. The light brightened, so brilliant she could barely make out his shape. I have another punishment for him. He reached forward and pulled off the sheet she was holding. Terrified, she grabbed for it, but it burned away in front of her, leaving the bed untouched, no ashes, no sign it had ever existed. She crossed her arms over her breasts.
You are not his wife yet.
We have documents—
But you have not yet been wife to him. So you shall be to me. His punishment will be to lose his bride to the sun.
No! Ginger thought she must be mad to refuse the sun-god. He is my husband. I must be true to him.
His radiance vanished. Nor did any light come from the window outside. The room went dark. Nothing showed in that blackness but the burning gold orbs of his eyes.
You dare to defy the sun?
She was shaking too much to speak. But she could form words in her mind. I cannot betray my vow to him.
And what of yours to me?
But…I thought it was a symbol. Not literal.
For other priestesses.
I am not worthy to be your consort.
If I choose you, then you are worthy.
She wanted to entreat him to change his mind. But she had given her oath to him before she ever met Darz. She couldn’t deny that promise. Never in a thousand years would she have presumed to think of herself as the sun’s true consort. She had no right to want Darz instead. Knowing that didn’t change how she felt about Darz, but she couldn’t break her vow.
A tear ran down her face. Dragon-Sun, I am honored beyond words.
Do not cry, Ginger-Sun. His light returned, softer than before. With reluctance, he added, He is a fortunate man.
Her breath caught. Did he mean what she thought?
If you want him, you may have him.
An intense relief washed over her. I thank you.
He leaned across the bed, his torso so large that the space between them was nothing. I can be generous. But not quite yet—He put his blazing hand behind her neck and drew her forward. She tried to turn away, but he caught her chin, and flames flared around her face. Heat surged in her. When he kissed her, and touched her, she blazed in an erotic fire.
Don’t! she thought. He tempted her with a passion that could consume her if she let it. Stop.
I will not force you. His thoughts faded as he let her go. You are true to him. It is good. The light was almost gone. But, ah, Ginger-Sun, I have wanted to do that since the day you pledged yourself to me….
Then the room was empty, and outside, the sky was light again. Trembling, she lay down and pulled the other sheet over her body. She closed her eyes, not because she thought she could ever sleep again, but to hide from the sunlight slanting through the window.
Sleep, his thought whispered.
Ginger awoke knowing she wasn’t alone. The sunlight was gone from the room, and the sky outside had darkened into purple twilight. The air had cooled with the onset of night, and the one remaining sheet on the bed wasn’t enough. But someone was lying behind her, his body warm against hers, the contours of his chest ridged against her back. She lay still, afraid the dragon had changed his mind and decided against generosity.
The man behind her snored.
Her lips curved upward. She knew that noisy sound from when she had sat vigil over her patient in the temple. She turned over—and almost screamed.
A stranger lay with her. She started to push him away, then stopped with her palms on his shoulders. The “stranger” had a scar running from the outer corner of his eye to his ear. It was Darz, but unlike she had ever seen him. No trace of his beard remained. His clean-shaven face revealed his high cheekbones and regular features. He had washed, brushed and trimmed his hair. He smelled good, too, like soap.
He grunted in his sleep and snorted, sounding like scalawag Darz instead of this finely apportioned stranger. She smiled, grateful to find him alive and well, instead of burned to death by an angry dragon.
She sank back into sleep.
“Ginger?” Darz’s voice curled into her sensual dreams.
Opening her eyes, she looked up at him in the moonlight that flowed through the window. She was lying on her back, and he was stretched out alongside her, his head proppe
d up on one arm as he looked down at her.
“Light of the moon,” she said.
“How do you feel?”
“Better.” She wouldn’t have expected to recover so fast, but her wounds hardly hurt at all. She was aware she was bare under Darz, but in the moonlight, it didn’t embarrass her.
“You look very fine,” she said.
His expression softened, and he kissed her, though just lightly. Perhaps he was waiting to see if she really would slap him. She put her arms around his neck and returned the kiss. Having almost lost him had made her realize just how much she wanted him.
With an exhale, Darz lowered himself on top of her. When he caressed her, she felt as if she were an instrument tuned by the dragon and then left unplayed. She pulled him closer, and his kiss deepened.
He moved his lips to her ear. “Your skin is hot. Like you have a fever.”
“For you,” she said. She had refused a sun-god for him, and in return, or perhaps retaliation, the dragon had left her with this un-quenched fever.
Darz explored her in ways she had thought no one would ever know. Then he slid down and took her breast into his mouth. She was so startled, she almost pushed him away. But his lips closed around her nipple where the Dragon-Sun had touched her, and heat burst over her, exquisite. Her fingers tangled in his hair while she sighed.
“Ah, Ginger, I can’t—” He pulled himself up along her body and kissed her some more. When he touched her below, at first she thought it was his hand. Then he groaned and thrust hard, tearing into her. She cried out, not only from pain, but from the blaze that flared through her. She pressed against him and he responded with a powerful rhythm, until the heat broke in a surge of pleasure. He covered her mouth with a kiss and muffled her cries.
Ginger slowly came back to herself, enough to realize Darz was still on top of her, his body flattening hers. She shifted under him and he grunted as he rolled onto the mattress. He lay alongside her with one leg thrown across both of hers. She turned her head toward him, and her forehead scraped the hint of stubble on his chin.
“I liked that,” she whispered.
The Fire Opal Page 18
