by Sharon Green
Stark naked. And in front of him.
"My lady, are you all right?" he asked, his eyes undoubtedly on me, his "concern" clear in his voice. I had to guess about where his eyes were because I was no longer looking at him; I had turned my head away, my own eyes were closed, and my hands were tight on the blanket over me, holding it up to my chin.
Which was absolutely stupid. For some idiotic reason I suddenly felt as though I'd never been naked before, as though I had never shared my nakedness with my Fistmates or any other men. And then it came to me that it wasn't the concept of "men" that was bothering me, it was "man." One particular man who wasn't fully a man, but who had chased after me as though he were. I was terribly, horribly embarrassed, and more uncomfortable than I could in any way understand.
"Oh, yes, I'm absolutely fine and dandy," I said after a minute, forcing myself to open my eyes. "I must walk naked down a road six or seven times every year. Nothing to it. What happened to my clothes?"
"I've really no idea," he said, and then I heard the sound of steps as he moved away from the fire. "If they'd been anywhere about I would certainly have recovered them for you. Here, you may begin your meal with this, and if you should want more I'll be glad to put it in the fire for you."
By then he was standing over me with the branch and rabbit, and I had to admit I was considerably more hungry than embarrassed. I held the blanket over me with one hand as I took the branch with the other, and then I was tearing at the meat with my teeth while he walked to the other side of me and bent down. He straightened with a small waterskin which he also brought over, and then he was sitting down on the stone beside me.
"My lady, I really must have a serious word with you," he said, his entire expression already looking serious. "I clearly noted your embarrassment of a moment ago, and I cannot allow you to be distressed in such a way. That you stood before me unclothed is of no moment at all, not in any manner at all. We are betrothed, and as soon as we return to your father's castle, you will become my wife. Such things as nakedness are commonplace between husband and wife, and therefore should bring you nothing of embarrassment."
"If it's all that commonplace, then it's your turn to indulge," I said around a mouthful of rabbit, resenting his entire attitude. I didn't need his comments about an embarrassment I couldn't even understand the reason for feeling, and I certainly didn't need him discussing again something he would or wouldn't "allow." He was acting as though I really did belong to him, and that was too ridiculous for words.
"You needn't try hiding your upset with flippancy," he came back, actually trying to look at me sternly. "You are a woman with a woman's sensibilities, and modesty in its proper place is nothing to be ashamed of. I'm well aware of the fact that I'm a virtual stranger to you, but I would have you remember my betrothal rights. Nothing improper occurred between us, and I want you to understand that."
"Apparently I understand more than you do," I said, in no mood to dance delicately around the issue. "You're taking our proposed marriage as something guaranteed to happen, and that's your biggest mistake. I haven't yet agreed to marry you, and probably won't."
"But, my lady, we are betrothed," he said, having the nerve to speak slowly and gently to me, as though explaining something to a child. "Betrothal rights are mine, including acceptance or refusal of the match. I have so far voiced no refusal, and the Law allows none to you. Your father had not only agreed to the match but had insisted on it, and now must stand by his word."
"I can't see any problem in that," I said with a shrug, still chewing. "If my father gave his word, let him marry you. I won't be treated as though I were less than a slave, not even by the King's Law."
"My lady, the Law treats you as what you are," he said, still with that clenched-teeth-making patience. "You are a woman, and not entitled to the rights earned by men. The right of refusal is mine, and I have not as yet decided whether I will exercise that right."
If there had been any handy weapon around at all, he would have learned something about the rights some women had. I was so angry I was on the verge of forgetting about what was left of the rabbit on the warming stick, but then I really heard the last things he'd said.
"What do you mean, you haven't yet decided whether or not you'll refuse?" I asked, feeling the first, faint stirrings of hope. "I thought you were, as Traixe put it, 'taken' with me. Has Evon's luck made you 'take' it back?"
"In full fact, I continue to find you as unexplainably attractive as I did," he answered, this time with noticeable stiffness as he straightened where he sat. "That this feeling has never before been mine does not mean it's shallow and fleeting. No, my hesitation comes from another source entirely."
"Ah, so now we've found hesitation," I pounced, feeling better and better. "You know that old saying, don't you: he who hesitates does better to refrain? That sounds like good advice to me."
"At this juncture I have little interest in advice," he came back almost snappishly, his light eyes looking annoyed. "My dresser, Jestrion, attempted to give me advice concerning females before I left home, and although he has as little experience with them as I, his were the words which raised my doubts. Because of him, I now find myself hesitant. Would you care for more of the rabbit?"
"No," I answered, putting aside emptied stick and emptied bones to reach for the water skin. "What I want is to hear about these doubts. If they have any substance, I'll tell you immediately."
Or sooner, I added to myself as I raised the waterskin, not about to let that priceless opportunity pass by. No matter what he said I should be able to confirm the worst aspects of it, and maybe even make them seem even more terrible. Just before I blocked out sight of his face with the waterskin I thought I saw amusement in his eyes, but his next words proved I must have been mistaken.
"Your graciousness is not unexpected, my lady," he said gravely, and I lowered the waterskin to see that he wasn't looking at me any longer. "My doubts are personal ones, and certainly cast no reflection on you. Jestrion insisted I would find no pleasure with a female, in fact it would be exactly the opposite. If this were to prove true then I, in turn, would be able to give no pleasure to you, which would hardly be honorable or fair. Under such a circumstance, I could do no other thing than voice my refusal to the marriage and depart forever."
He ended his speech with his head hanging, obviously already more than half convinced that his fears were not unfounded. It wasn't quite fair to encourage him in those fears, but defense of self comes before fairness in those who intend surviving.
"In marriage, a husband is required to satisfy his wife," I agreed with him soberly, making sure my tone shared the gravity he'd been showing. "So you have no experience with women at all, no experience with how difficult it is to satisfy a partner. Even many … more enthusiastic men find the accomplishment beyond them. For a virgin to expect to outdo them …"
I let the words trail off as I shook my head, projecting enough doubt to emasculate a satyr. Virgin or not, he had one infallible way of knowing whether or not he was interested. If all that doubt turned him incapable of any interest it all, he should have no choice but to draw the conclusions I wanted him to. My hopes were very high as I put the waterskin aside, and then he sighed.
"Yes, my lack of experience is what causes my hesitation," he said, sounding completely depressed as he still avoided my eyes. "How can I know what success or failure would be mine without ever having tried the thing? I've heard men discussing the matter, of course, speaking as they seldom if ever speak before women, and without exception they all found such … delight in it. I would like to believe that I, too, would experience delight, but how am I to know?"
"Well, one thing you can't do is believe everything you hear," I said, looking for defeat rather than depression. "Since men are supposed to enjoy themselves with women, a lot of them insist they have when they're talking to other men. The truth of the matter is that they haven't enjoyed themselves, and weren't able to satisfy the woman involved
, either. I learned these things from my Fistmates in our Sword Company, so you know they have to be true. With odds like that against you, you'd be best off forgetting the whole thing - before you experience the agony of failure."
"The agony of failure," he repeated, rubbing his face with one hand as he stared down at his folded legs, his voice faintly muffled. "Yes, I've heard tell of that agony, and certainly wouldn't care to experience it. I am, however, in an extremely untenable position in that I must learn the truth in order to see where honor lies. It would be greatly distressing to learn of my lacks only after the ceremony was completed."
"Distressing isn't the word I would use," I said in a mutter, then went on. "Well, if you feel that way about it, there's only one thing you can do. As soon as we get back to the city, you'll have to patronize a night house. That will settle the question with no two ways about it."
"A night house," he echoed, finally looking up to stare at me blankly. He seemed to have caught the repeating disease I'd been suffering from, but apparently wasn't aware of it. As a matter of fact he didn't seem aware of much, as though he hadn't the faintest idea of how to answer my suggestion and was concerned with nothing but thinking furiously. I thought I might know what was bothering him, so I smiled at him to add to it.
"Yes, I'm afraid failure in a night house would become rather widely known," I said, using faint compassion to disguise the twisting of the knife. "You could spare yourself that by simply accepting the most likely results without torturing yourself, and give my father another reason for your refusal. I'm sure he would accept just about anything as a reason, as would I…"
"But, my dear, I couldn't possibly use a night house to settle the question," he said suddenly, something oddly like inspiration causing the outburst. "I find no interest in those women under any circumstances, so how might failure with them have meaning? My sole interest is in you, and as you are to be my wife, how might the matter be settled with another?"
He stared at me with the triumph of logic crowning him, but all I could do was stare back with the most terrible feeling creeping over me. He couldn't be suggesting what it sounded like, he just couldn't, not when I'd been so close to talking him into forgetting the marriage entirely!
"If you're trying to say you want to try it with me, you can forget it," I told him flatly, discovering that I was almost back to the point of clutching the blanket to me. "The decision about who I share a bed with has always been mine, and I intend seeing that it always will be. If you're asking to have your name put on the list, the answer is: not even at the bottom."
"Well, I certainly wouldn't dream of trying to coerce you," he answered, the triumph now muted by an agreeableness I didn't care for, his light eyes casually hooded. "If you insist on waiting for our wedding night, I would hardly be so boorish as to deny you that. That is the time consummation will be most necessary and binding, and even if I should discover a great dislike for the act, my duty in that respect will already have been done. It will, of course, be far too late to consider your feelings or what so passionless a marriage would be for you."
"The consummation!" I said as I sat straighter, suddenly remembering something important. "If I insist to everyone that you weren't capable of consummating the marriage, they'll have to have it annulled! Now, why didn't I think of that sooner?"
"Possibly, my lady, and I hope you will forgive the indelicacy, because you have no means of proving such a charge," he murmured, this time rubbing at his face with two fingers. "A sheltered maiden, previously uninvolved with the world, would certainly not find it the same, but a Blade of a Sword Company… Or, forgive me, have I assumed a condition which simply isn't so?"
He waited politely for the answer to his question, his brows raised just a little, knowing damned well I had no other answer. You might be able to find virgins in a Sword Company, but it wouldn't be wise putting gold or silver or even copper on the possibility.
"And so, you see, our wedding night is certain to be a resounding success no matter what occurs," he said, and I swear it was nearly a purr. "If I were to discover a great dislike beforehand it would be possible for me to act honorably, but afterward…"
He spread his hands with very heavy, very innocent regret, his resignation about as believable as the sigh following his shrug. He had his mind set on trying what the big boys did, and whatever his real reason was, he didn't seem ready to back down. I didn't believe for a moment that it was a question of honor, and he had managed to get me good and mad.
"Well, then, my only other option is to see to it that there is no wedding night," I said, lying back to get comfortable in the blankets. "I flatly refuse to marry you, and nothing, including the Law, can force me to it."
"In a manner of speaking, that's true," he said, for an instant looking frustrated and annoyed before he forced those emotions away again. "It upsets me to believe that a man's daughter would betray him so, leaving him prey to those who would see him brought down, but apparently it's so. Perhaps I'm fortunate in that I will likely never have such a daughter of my own."
"I'm not betraying my father!" I protested, rising to one elbow while he rose to his feet. "I never agreed to this or any other marriage, and he had no right to assume I would agree! He never asked me!"
If I expected a response to my contention, I didn't get one. Without a word he circled my blankets, picked up the warming stick and bones I'd left, then headed back toward the fire. He could have said that most daughters don't need to be asked, that they simply do as they're told because they're female and have nothing better to do with their lives, but he didn't. That would have given me the chance to point out that I did have something better to do with my life, which would have brought us back to the point we'd just left.
I lay back in the blankets again with unfinished arguments gnawing at me, the one with the Flower - and the one with my father. What bothered me most was wondering if Traixe was right and my father did intend ordering me to walk away from the marriage; if that turned out to be so, what was I going to do? Walking away under those circumstances would be betraying him, but staying would be a betrayal of myself. I still couldn't decide what I would do, but I could see I was passing up the possibility of avoiding that particular decision. It would be horribly distasteful, but I had to go through with it.
"All right, you win," I said, staring up at the cave ceiling. "Let's see how great a distaste we can find in you - assuming we can first find interest enough for a beginning. But don't expect me to enjoy any of it. I've never been partial to rape."
There was silence from his part of the cave for a moment, and then he was crouching beside my blankets.
"My lady, it was not my intention to bring you distress," he said softly and seriously, and oddly enough I almost believed him. "I have no wish to force myself on you, merely do I seek to still the doubts within me. I would make a poor husband indeed if I gave no thought to the woman who will be my wife, and you must not become upset over this doing. My betrothal rights allow it to me, and therefore also to you."
"I'd like to see how far you'd get if those rights didn't extend to me," I retorted, still really annoyed as I looked up at his hulking form. "And if you were all that concerned about me, you'd walk away from this marriage without the experimentation, which, I'm sure you know as well as I do, is completely unnecessary."
"Hardly unnecessary," he said with a faint smile, and then had the nerve to reach down and take my hand in both of his. "A man who is named heir to a duke must have heirs of his own, and there continues to be but a single way of achieving that. Surely it will be to the benefit of us both to know that such achievement will be possible - and, hopefully, extremely pleasant."
He actually grinned before kissing my hand, then straightened as I snatched the hand back to rub it vigorously on the blanket. When I looked up again he was on his way back to the fire, totally unconcerned with how I'd reacted to his supposedly gallant gesture. He was so absolutely and completely strange, easily the strang
est male I had ever met, and the way he kept assuming that our marriage was definitely going to be was beginning to disturb me. I didn't want to marry anyone for any reason, most especially not him, but his attitude was beginning to make me feel I'd have no more choice in the matter than a chain child. I didn't enjoy feeling like that, and as I moved around in annoyance in the blankets, I decided I'd have to do something about it.
I watched him putter about a bit around the fire that was beginning to die down again, but instead of adding more of the wood he'd brought in he left the fire to go to a large stock of mossy vines piled near the cave wall on the other side of the floor. It didn't take long before a generous amount of the vines had been brought to the right of my blankets, and then he was arranging his own blankets on top of the vines, just as he had obviously done with mine to make them so comfortable. I didn't like how close he was putting his bed to mine, literally arranging things to make one large bed, but considering what he intended trying I couldn't very well argue the point.
When the bed-making was completed to his satisfaction and he had taken off his fancy swordbelt, he turned to the stable lamp that was giving off more light than the remains of the fire and blew it out. That plunged us into almost pitch darkness, the remains of the fire making him no more than an ill-defined, looming shadow.
"Why did you do that?" I asked, this time watching what I could see of him groping his way back to his blankets. "Without the lamp and the fire, we might as well be wearing blindfolds."
"I'm afraid I must admit that the darkness is for me," he said, sounding somewhat apologetic but already beginning to take his clothes off, starting with his boots. "Now that the time has come to learn the truth, my hesitancy seems to have increased. I hope such apprehensions are normal."
"You can hardly expect me to know that from first-hand experience," I said, rolling to my right and bracing up on my elbow and hand. "All I can tell you is that most of the men I've had sex with seemed completely confident and unworried. The ones who weren't didn't make much of a showing."
