Thrice Bound

by Roberta Gellis

  The hound made no immediate reply, and Hekate drew her knife and began to butcher his kill. She laid the head and the entrails on a mat of small branches of brush, cut off the lower legs and added those, then divided what remained of the carcass into four smaller pieces and cast a spell of stasis on the meat so she could carry it without spoilage. Kabeiros watched her from across the fire for a while, and then lay down, his head on his paws turned away from her.

  It was all Hekate could do when every task was finished not to lie down beside him and weep into his soft, thick fur. She wondered how fate could be so cruel as to make one partner of an oath-bound pair love deeply while the other was tormented by the closeness and only longed to be free. In her misery and because she found Kabeiros' gorging on the brains, intestines, and other organs revolting, she never noticed that the dog had not eaten.

  They remained by the fire, silent, until dull misery numbed Hekate and she lay down on her bedroll and slept, waking in the morning with tears on her cheeks, although she had no memory of her dreams. She gathered up her supplies, rolled the bedroll, strapped on Kabeiros' pack, and set out north and east into the mountains.

  While aboard ship, she had asked Kabeiros what he thought they should do. Receiving no reply, she abandoned any attempt to draw him into a discussion. By the time they came ashore, she had decided to go first to the valley of the Nymphae to discover whether they had any way of communicating with Dionysos. She could Call him, but when she thought of doing so, her heart clenched within her. What if Perses should hear and recognize her Call?

  Hekate told herself she was a fool. She had never known a Call to be intercepted. There was no reason her father should be listening—if that was even possible. As far as she knew, he wasn't aware of Dionysos' existence or of her connection to Dionysos. She had always visited him as a side trip to gathering herbs and had been careful never to carry a watcher with her. Her reasoning was all useless; Hekate found her body was slick with cold sweat.

  She berated herself for her fear. It was ridiculous to fear Perses when she had outfaced Medea and the Olympian gods. Surely he was not a stronger mage than Aietes or Medea and the Olympian Gifts were more dangerous than spells, which took time to cast. Even as she tried to reassure herself, her breath came shorter and harder and her steps quickened. Suddenly a cold nose was thrust into her hand.

  *The caves of the dead are safe,* Kabeiros said. *And there's no smell of magic anywhere.*

  She kept her mind closed because she feared that if she opened it to answer him all that would come across would be a babble of senseless terror, but she clutched the loose skin on Kabeiros' neck gratefully and pulled him closer so she could keep one arm around him. He endured it for a time, but since no one can live in a peak of terror for very long, Hekate's panic soon subsided and Kabeiros slid away.

  They stopped at noon to rest and eat and again at dusk, but Hekate did not unpack more than the food for the meal and didn't unroll the blankets. Both felt they were near their goal and needed to reach it. They passed well to the north of Ur-Kabos, then angled eastward, Hekate creating a small mage light to help them find the path in the dark. Then the moon rose. At first it was little help, merely silvering the treetops, but then the path opened into a clearing.

  Grass, like the treetops was silvered by moonlight, as to the right and left were the trunks of trees. Between the trees was dark, here and there dappled with a faint light as branches moved in the breeze and let the moon shine through. Across the clearing, however, was utter blackness, and spilling out of that blackness a long tongue of raw earth, which also looked black in the draining light of the moon.

  Both were tired, but that blackness held an irresistible attraction for each. They surged forward, Hekate, driven by her fears, a step or two ahead, the mage light hanging faithfully above her. Reaching her haven, she flung off her pack and turned, arms wide, toward Kabeiros. He, remembering he would shift shape, had hesitated outside the cave mouth just long enough to pull open the strap holding his pack before he took the last step. He was still close enough behind Hekate that she found herself collapsing under the oncoming weight of a naked man unable to balance himself on two legs when he had spent so many years walking on four.

  Instinctively Hekate clutched at anything she could grab, which was not very helpful since it was Kabeiros' body and that was falling with her. Fortunately, he had already put out his hands to catch himself, so Hekate only struck the ground with her own weight and a little of his. Still it was enough to knock the wind out of her, and she lay, gasping for breath, enough stunned to continue to hold tight to Kabeiros.

  The midsummer day on which they had started the last part of their journey had been mild and, although the night was much cooler than the day, they had been walking fast, so Hekate had never felt chilled. She had been wearing only a thin, Egyptian linen undertunic, and a light wool overtunic under her cloak, which was thrust back over her shoulders. The cloak, bunched behind her, had softened her fall, but both tunics had been twisted and raised, leaving her mostly naked.

  "Let me go," Kabeiros groaned. "For the Mother's sake, let me go."

  "Let you go?" Hekate repeated in a tone of delighted surprise. It had become apparent to her while she was catching her breath, that the bare male flesh pressed against her was in a state of high arousal. Hekate giggled. "Not for the Mother's sake. She approves heartily of the coupling of man with maid."

  "You idiot! Not this man with this maid."

  Hekate's arms trembled, but she couldn't release her precious burden. Was it possible that the Mother had touched Kabeiros and forbidden him to love her? Without forbidding her?

  "The Mother?" she asked doubtfully. "When did She forbid us? I've been at Her shrine many times, and you were with me. I never felt any coldness. How could She touch you so strongly that you felt unwelcome and I didn't know? Why didn't you tell me, Kabeiros?"

  "Stop asking questions and let me go."

  A suspicion began to tickle Hekate. "Are you claiming the Mother's disapproval for some reason of your own?"

  "You fool! How can you desire a dog?"

  Hekate giggled again. "You aren't a dog now," she whispered, and wriggled her hips.

  Kabeiros gasped. "Stop. Let me explain."

  "Later," she breathed into his ear. "As we are now, you will make no sense and I will hear no sense, no matter what you need to say. One coupling doesn't make a life bonding nor break one. Let us content each other now. Later we'll talk."

  * * *

  They did no talking, however, until long past the next morning. After the explosive release of their passion atop the long day's march, Hekate and Kabeiros slept as they were, still joined, until the pressure of Kabeiros' weight began to crush Hekate. She stirred under her burden, seeking relief, and woke Kabeiros. Half asleep, he half understood the problem and turned with her so that she now lay atop him.

  Now, however, her cloak fell over his face. In trying to push it aside so he could breathe, the pin came loose and he pushed off the cloak entirely. Willingly misunderstanding, Hekate lifted herself just enough to pull off both over and undertunic. Kabeiros made an indistinct sound of protest, but it was too late. The wall of restraint he had raised had been breached already and Hekate's squirming stirred him in another way. Breathing hard, he seized her hips and began to move them. It took no time at all for Hekate to realize what was going on and begin to cooperate fully. Their second mating was less violent, but no less satisfying.

  Some time later even Kabeiros' tougher body began to feel bruised. He tried to escape Hekate's embrace without waking her but did not succeed. She was frightened at first, thinking he intended to leave her, and gripped him fiercely, but he assured her he only wanted to get the blankets to make them a little more comfortable. By the time those were pulled free of the packs and spread on the floor, both were awake enough to feel renewed desire and also guilt for the almost impersonal hunger with which they had mated.

  Neither knew what t
o say. Hekate was terrified that if she confessed love to the man, Kabeiros would flee her entirely. She could tell from his heightened color and averted glance that he was embarrassed, but she was afraid to ask why. Tentatively, she took his hand and, when he didn't pull away, drew him down beside her. After only the most token resistance he sat . . . close enough so their thighs touched. Hekate stroked his face and pressed her lips to his shoulder. He pushed aside her wealth of blonde curls and kissed her nape. Her hand slid down his body, stroked his thigh; his found her breast. Not long after, they were coupled again.

  They woke easily, almost simultaneously, near noon, and, still wordless but with gentle and sustained caresses, they made love once more. It was a lovemaking that knew no need for haste or greedy grasping. In silence it acknowledged that this was not the last time, that love would come again. Replete but not exhausted, they rested, content to be silent and together, until Kabeiros, gazing idly over Hekate's head, stiffened somewhat in surprise.

  "Look," he said, "the trees have nearly no shadows. The sun must be almost overhead."

  Hekate yawned and stretched, accidentally pushing away the cape that had covered them, which exposed Kabeiros' chest. She smiled to herself and tickled his nipple. He caught his breath, pulled away, and sat up, pulling the cloak around him. This, of course, left Hekate exposed. Reaching out hastily, Kabeiros found her undertunic and handed it to her. She blinked at it, as if she wasn't sure what to do with it.

  "Put it on," Kabeiros said. "You'll be all over gooseflesh in another moment. And I'd better see if I can find a tunic or some cloth among the offerings." He started to rise and then sank back, knees shaking as if his legs wouldn't support him.

  "Not for my sake," Hekate said, and drew a finger down the side of his leg, which had been exposed by his movement.

  "No, for mine," he retorted. "You seem to be planning to be rid of your binding to me by killing me in a most unusual and untraceable way."

  Hekate stared, shocked, until she saw the glint in his amber-colored eyes and remembered that this was the man who had provided a much needed fountain as an image of a dog urinating on a post. Even as she realized he was joking, she found herself torn between relief and exasperation. She knew he hadn't intended to couple with her, that his need had overpowered him when they first fell together to the floor.

  What she didn't know was why he had fought so hard to resist. He had said he wanted to explain, but now he was avoiding explanation. Did he just not care for her and think it unfair to "take advantage"? Had that last "sweet" loving acknowledged a kind of defeat, a willingness to stay with her since he had mated with her? Was his escape from the cruelty of telling her he could not love her this need to jest? If so, she would help him. It was better to laugh than to cry.

  "Oh, no," she said. "How could you think I wanted to be rid of you? I'm a devoted worshiper of the Mother in Her guise of fertility goddess and you are the perfect phallus."

  His lips parted, then shut tightly. Hekate swallowed. Then he bent his lips into a smile, tried to rise again, and fell back with a groan.

  "You won't have use of me long at this rate," he said. "You'll have to find someone who can turn himself into stone. I know it's said that dogs can bind together for hours, but it doesn't seem to carry over into the man form."

  "Ohhh . . ." Hekate let the sound linger. "You do well enough."

  He uttered an indignant snort and made a third attempt to rise, succeeding this time by straddling his legs and bending his knees. Hekate giggled but realized that it wasn't only a lingering weakness from four couplings but a problem with balancing. She jumped up in time to steady him and they made it across the trough. There a wave of despair and terror seized Hekate and she wavered on her feet, until Kabeiros dismissed the spell.

  The offerings were piled carelessly in heaps just beyond where the worshipers could see, as if whoever had collected them could hardly bear to remain. It struck Hekate odd that a dead spirit should react to Kabeiros' spell, but Kabeiros had spotted a man's tunic among the goods and tottered forward to pull it on. He made one attempt to fold the blanket and almost fell over, so Hekate took it from him, but he walked more steadily to a second pile of goods where he saw a handsome rug. He did fall over when he bent to pick it up, but he righted himself.

  Meanwhile Hekate had found a cushion and another rug. They carried those back into what had been Kabeiros' living quarters, where Hekate was again made breathless by the beauty of the stone formations and the way quartz and semiprecious stones reflected the mage lights Kabeiros waved awake. A glance around showed that nothing had been disturbed. They might have left only a few moments or hours before rather than having been away for years.

  After a little while to appreciate the wonders she had almost forgotten, Hekate went and got the packs and distributed the food they had carried into the proper chambers. Then she hurried to use the privy cave, almost bumping into Kabeiros who was coming out. He was decently clothed in a white undertunic and the embroidered overtunic he had picked out of the offerings, but his feet were bare.

  "You need sandals," she said.

  "Yes," he agreed, but he looked uncomfortable. "I know it's foolish," he added, "but I feel as if I'm stealing. I never minded taking what I needed while I was here. I felt that I had earned it by casting the spell when it was necessary and keeping the offerings in good order."

  Hekate smiled at him. "Let's steal some wine and break our fast. Then I'll go out to the valley of the Nymphae and you can spend the rest of the day putting the offerings in order. It's two or three candlemarks' walk to their valley, and probably I won't stay long with them so I should be back before dark. Go get us some wine while I broil some of the deer you brought in."

  When they were seated at Kabeiros' stone table, eating slices of the meat broiled on slabs of rock heated by earth-blood power and some grain roasted in a little oil, she said, "Is there a chamber that could be fitted out for Dionysos to sleep in?"

  "Dionysos," Kabeiros repeated, stiffening slightly. "Will you bring him back with you? I thought you didn't know where he was."

  "I don't," Hekate replied, "but I just realized that, being a seer, and a strong one, he may have had a Vision of my coming. If so, he might have decided to meet me at the valley of the Nymphae. I . . ." She hesitated, and then went on regretfully, "I guess I would have to bring him back. Now that he's no longer a child, the Nymphae won't let him stay."

  Kabeiros shrugged but something about the blankness of his expression and the tension in his body told Hekate that he would not really welcome Dionysos' company. She wondered if his reason could be the same as hers, but shut the thought out lest it take too hard a hold on her and lead to more hurt.

  "Please, Kabeiros," she said, "find a place, not too near us, and make it ready. I don't want to hurt him, but I don't want him in our bedchamber either."

  He looked away when she said our bedchamber, and Hekate reached across the table and touched his face, then ran her hand caressingly down his shoulder and arm. When she turned her hand to draw a finger back up his arm, he pulled away.

  "Let me alone! Have you no mercy?" he asked bitterly. "If Dionysos is already waiting for you, we will not be using the bedchamber for long. We will leave here . . . and I will be a dog again, but my man's mind will remember . . . and desire . . ." He stopped speaking and swallowed.

  "Then I have given you pleasure?" Hekate murmured. "I could not be sure."

  He started to get up and Hekate closed her hand around his arm. "I must bring Dionysos to Olympus, and I must speak to Hermes. For that small time it will do you no harm to remember our love play. It will whet your appetite—"

  "Small time?" Kabeiros wrenched his arm free, got up from the stone stool, and turned his back to her. "No one will ever find an answer to my curse. I will be a dog—"

  "There will be an answer," Hekate interrupted sharply. "I have bound myself to it! But I didn't mean to wait for that. Kabeiros, what is to prevent us from coming ba
ck here any time we want, as often as we want?"

  "To travel for months to spend a few days and—"

  "No, no. Don't be silly. We can leap from here to Olympus—"

  Kabeiros sighed and reseated himself. "It's too far, Hekate. I know you are strong, but to carry me and Dionysos is too much."

  "Hmmm." She took a bite of the meat and chewed it. "I had forgotten that Dionysos won't have the leaping spell. Anyway, you're probably right that it's too far for one leap. There's power here, but not enough, I fear. We'll have to return to Olympus by ship, but that's not all bad. I can find homeplaces in several convenient ports."

  "But if Hermes hasn't seen them, how can he fix his essence—or whatever it is—to those places?"

  Hekate looked a little shamefaced. "Well . . . I don't really need Hermes any more. I've been playing with the leaping essence, or whatever it is, and I . . . I can bud it just like a magic spell."

  Kabeiros shook his head. "Some day you're going to play with something that will burst like a firepot in your head and leave you with burnt brains."

  She frowned. "No, usually there's a warning kind of feeling to a bad spell, but the point is that the leaping thing isn't mine to play with. That's what I have to talk to Hermes about. I suppose I must pay him for each leap even though I don't get the spell from him."

  "You certainly must talk to him, but likely Hermes won't care. He's so enchanted with the look-by-me spell—"

  Hekate made a sour face. "I should never have given it to that busybody. He knew too much before. Now he knows everything. If Zeus casts me out of Olympus, it will be because Hermes has unearthed one secret too many."