Fire of the Soul

by Speer, Flora

  “Very well.” Zara frowned, biting her lower lip. “I ought to ask if you are frightened, or worried. I know I was before I married Toren. But, Calia, your Garit is very much like Toren.”

  “He is?”

  “Both are strong and brave men. Perhaps they force themselves to be so because they possess no inborn Power. Despite their physical courage, at heart both are kind and gentle men. And men of great honor. Garit will never betray or hurt you, any more than Toren would betray or hurt me. When you are alone with Garit, at first you will experience some awkward moments until you grow accustomed to each other. But then, you will know great joy.”

  “Was it so for you?” Calia watched as Zara’s pale face lit with an inner radiance.

  “Oh, yes. Toren is the husband I always wanted.”

  “I am glad, Zara.”

  The gown Calia had chosen was made of a thin, silvery fabric that swirled around her feet when she walked. Zara’s maid combed her hair into a high, curly arrangement interwoven with silver ribbons.

  Just as the women were leaving Zara’s chamber, Finen appeared to thrust a silk-wrapped package into Calia’s hands.

  “Lord Garit sends these,” the page recited his message, “and begs that you will wear them. It’s your wedding gift, my lady,” he ended on a gleeful note.

  Calia opened the package. Green stones set in silver winked up at her. They were not as large, nor as Power-laden as the Great Emerald she had delivered to Ultan, but they were even more precious to her because they represented Garit’s love.

  “How beautiful,” Zara said, “and perfect with your gown.”

  A short time later Calia descended the wide staircase to the feasting hall with Zara and Finen in attendance and with her new emerald necklace and earrings in place.

  And there, in the hall, with the nobles of Chandelar present as witnesses and the Great Mage Ultan performing the ancient rite, she and Garit were wed.

  Later, Calia remembered every word and each moment of the ceremony, though she recalled little of the feast that followed, and nothing at all of the speeches, save that they were filled with gratitude for what she, Garit, and Durand had accomplished to the benefit of Chandelar.

  Later, as the formal celebration ended, a clean-shaven Captain Pyrsig planted a hearty kiss on her lips. Fenella, wearing a brilliant orange gown and a purple veil, hugged her. Durand caught her around the waist and kissed her cheek, calling her his other sister, a compliment that briefly reduced Calia to happy tears. Toren, ever grave and polite, lifted her hand to his lips and wished her well.

  And then Zara, sweet, kind Zara, conducted her back up the stairs to the bedchamber she and Garit were to share and helped her prepare to receive her new husband. She did not unfasten Calia’s hair.

  “Let Garit do it,” she whispered as she fastened the tie at the neck of Calia’s new bed-gown. “Men like to have something to do with their hands when they are nervous.”

  Garit arrived just as Zara was slipping out the door. To Calia’s eyes he did not look at all nervous, just very stern. He came to her by the open window and stood next to her, gazing out at the mountains.

  “We sail tomorrow, on the morning tide,” he said. “Durand isn’t going with us. He’s remaining in Tannaris for a time. Something to do with the Emerald.”

  “That’s nice.” Calia scarcely knew what she was saying. She was trembling, and not from the cool breeze that blew through the window.

  “Aren’t you going to take your hair down?” Garit asked.

  “Zara said I should ask you to do it.”

  “Lady Zara is a wise woman.” He caught her shoulders, turning her to face him.

  “Garit?”

  “Yes, love.” He drew her closer and kissed her forehead.

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Just a little. Aren’t you?”

  “I’m not sure exactly what I feel. I know I’m happy – so very happy. And I’m glad our great adventure is behind us.”

  “Oh, my love,” Garit whispered, his nimble fingers moving from the unfastened tie of her gown to the ribbons in her hair, “our next and greatest adventure is just beginning.”

  By the time her gown was on the floor and her hair was tumbling loose down her back, she began to comprehend what he meant about a new adventure. He was gentle with her, caressing her slowly and tenderly until all her untested womanly senses began to awaken. As his kisses grew hotter and deeper her knees threatened to give way under the onslaught. Just as she began to fear she’d crumple to the floor, Garit lifted her into his arms and carried her to their wide bed. She sighed with pleasure when he came down beside her.

  “You were right,” she whispered. “I do feel adventurous.”

  “We haven’t even begun,” he told her.

  In the next moment his hands were on her breasts, teasing and stroking until she began to whimper with longing for something more. Twisting against him, she suddenly became aware of his manhood hot and hard against her thigh. She couldn’t resist; she touched him, tentatively at first, and then she wrapped her hand around him and began to rub.

  “Ah, no!” he cried, grabbing her wrist. “Not yet.”

  “Did I hurt you?” From what she knew of men in his aroused condition, which admittedly wasn’t much since her experience was limited to a few quick glimpses of couples entwined against a castle wall or in the stables, she didn’t think she’d done any serious damage. “Garit?”

  “I’m trying to go slowly,” he said, sounding as if he was in some pain. “You are making that difficult.”

  “But, if you can touch me, why can’t I touch you in the same way?”

  “Another time,” he whispered. “When you are not so new to lovemaking. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “How could you?” She gasped then as his hand slid along her inner thigh, paused, and moved higher. She gasped again when he touched a spot so sensitive that she couldn’t breathe or think. All she could do was press herself against his hand in a silent plea for more – and still more.

  He took his hand away, ignoring her wordless complaint at the deprivation. A moment later she felt his hardness pushing against her, stretching her body steadily yet slowly and carefully as he made the two of them one. She experienced only a brief instant of pinching discomfort and then he was gazing down at her with a frown.

  “Is something wrong?” she managed to whisper.

  “Everything is very right.”

  Encouraged, she wriggled a bit to make herself more comfortable. Garit groaned. By his contorted features, she could tell he was trying his best to control his violent emotions. Her own emotions were about to give way to a lovely, frantic madness that was building in the very core of her being. She felt as if she were one of the great volcanoes of Chandelar about to erupt.

  Garit moved in her, stroking deeply, whispering her name over and over, telling her how much he loved her, urging Calia’s passionate response. Suddenly she was moving in rhythm with him. The blood thundered in her veins, pounding louder and louder, until her heart nearly stopped.

  Garit was holding her so tightly she could barely breathe, she didn’t care if she ever took another breath, and in that ultimate moment when all the overheated tension building inside her was released, when the volcano she imagined in the very core of herself exploded and she felt Garit’s own release and heard his cry of triumph and happiness, Calia understood what true joy was.

  Epilogue

  Saumar Manor reposed in the golden light of an autumn afternoon. Red and bronze leaves cloaked the trees. Apples lay on the ground or filled wide baskets awaiting the cart that Garit could see approaching. In a nearby field a woman sat astride a horse, directing the field hands as they gathered the ripe grain. One of the men said something to the woman and she turned to stare at Garit and his companions.

  “Calia? Calia!” the woman shouted. “You’ve come home.”

  “Mairne!” Calia urged her horse forward until the two women met in an awkward,
tearful embrace, each leaning from her horse to reach the other.

  “We’ve been so worried about you,” Mairne cried. “You sent not a word to tell us how you fared after we parted.”

  “We had no time to send a letter,” Garit said. “Captain Pyrsig told us how Lady Elgida sent him to Tannaris to find us. He did, and here we are.”

  “Where is Lord Durand?” Mairne asked of Garit.

  “Still in Tannaris, with the Great Mage Ultan,” Garit said. “Where is Anders?”

  “At the moment, he is with Lady Elgida. She’s teaching him how to keep the account books. Oh, he doesn’t like that! But she has promised to make him seneschal when we marry.

  “He’s still limping,” Mairne added. “The blow Mallory dealt him cut through his thigh to the bone. Captain Pyrsig kept washing the wound with seawater. Then Lady Elgida found a good doctor in Port Moren. Anders can ride, with effort and pain, though the doctor promised the discomfort will ease in time, if he keeps trying to use the leg. So, Lady Elgida says Anders ought to retire as many valiant knights do after a severe battle injury, and take care of Saumar.”

  “Obviously, a lot has happened,” Garit said. “Why don’t we wait until later to exchange our stories?”

  “Yes,” Mairne agreed. “After the evening meal.”

  They sat around the long table in the great hall, with every man-at-arms, every servant, and all of the field hands listening while Garit recounted the tale of the dangerous trek from Kerun City, across the Northern Border and the mountains, into Chandelar.

  Calia looked around at faces she knew well, from Lady Elgida to Mairne and Anders, to the doughty men-at-arms, Winn and his comrades, to Sundaria and Belai and Kinen. All were silent and engrossed in what Garit was saying. This story of the use and misuse of Power was the most exciting entertainment any of them had enjoyed in years.

  “And so,” Garit finished the tale with a romantic flourish, worthy of the finest bards, “Calia and I were married by the Great Mage Ultan and the next day we sailed for Port Moren. And here we are, safe and happy to be back in Sapaudia again.”

  The listeners erupted into applause and cheers and Calia refilled Garit’s silver wine cup.

  “We have a story, too,” Belai cried, standing at his place well down the table. He pulled Kinen up to stand with him. “Shall we tell it to you, Brother?”

  “Sit down, at once,” Lady Elgida commanded. “Mind your manners, both of you.”

  “I would like to hear your tale,” Garit said to the boys. “If our grandmother permits, of course.”

  “Oh, go on, then,” Lady Elgida said with a wave of her hand. “When the boys have finished, Sundaria and I will fill in the parts they leave out. They are only interested in bloodshed and other manly excitement.”

  For the next hour, Belai and Kinen, interrupting each other frequently, described their escape from the clutches of a wicked stepfather who tried to keep them and their mother in Kerun City, to the safety of the open sea, and then to Saumar. They spoke with considerable relish about the wound that Anders had sustained and the squire’s courage in enduring the salt water treatment that Captain Pyrsig prescribed.

  Either because of their delight with shipboard life, or because of their interest in Anders’ injury, they did not mention any of the women, including their mother.

  When they finished to scattered applause that suggested most of their audience had heard the tale before, Lady Elgida sent them off to bed and many of the listeners also departed to their late evening chores.

  “As you have just heard, if Mairne did not tell you at once,” Lady Elgida said to Calia and Garit, “I intend to make Anders my seneschal, and Mairne my chatelaine.”

  “Those are good choices,” Calia agreed. “But won’t Anders have to be knighted, if he’s to command your men-at-arms?”

  “I’ve been waiting for Garit to return,” Lady Elgida said. “I thought it appropriate for him to knight his brother.”

  “I didn’t realize you knew,” Garit responded in surprise.

  “That Anders is also my grandson? Of course, I knew. Very little passes me by. He has asked permission to wed Mairne. Considering how close they are, the marriage ought to take place at once, before they present us with yet another illegitimate child to join the family. Since I have no desire to make another journey so soon after the last, I have sent for Adana to come here and conduct the marriage rites. I will leave it to Garit to perform the ritual of knighting.”

  “Yes, please, Garit,” said Anders, who was grinning and holding Mairne’s hand tightly.

  “Very well,” Garit agreed. “We will hold both ceremonies as soon as Aunt Adana arrives.”

  “Now,” Lady Elgida went on, “about Belai and Kinen. Those boys require more discipline than I can offer, and both of them are of an age to begin their knightly schooling. Therefore, I propose to send them to Nozay Manor immediately. Let Lord Giles train them as he once trained you.”

  “I have written to my father,” Sundaria told them. “He replied that he’s willing to take the boys, and he will be happy to have me visit him for a time. So, I will be part of the group that travels to Nozay.”

  “That’s a very good plan,” Calia said. “Sundaria, you told me once that you are eager to meet your father again. Garit, wouldn’t you like to visit Lord Giles?”

  “I would.” Garit smiled at his wife. “If you don’t mind setting off again so soon after reaching Saumar, we ought to leave here before the winter storms begin.”

  “There is conflict along the border with the Dominion,” Lady Elgida warned them.

  “We’ll take a dozen men-at-arms with us for protection,” Garit said. “After Nozay, we can travel on to Auremont, so Calia can see our own castle, and then pay a visit to Calean City, so I can present her to King Henryk and Queen Hannorah.”

  “All of which means,” said Lady Elgida with a dramatic sigh, “that I won’t see either of you again for years. How long was your last absence from Saumar, Garit? Ah, that a grandson should neglect his aged grandmother so badly.”

  “Don’t worry,” Anders said, laughing. “You still have this grandson present to keep you company.”

  Later, in the bedchamber he shared with Calia, Garit returned to the subject of Nozay.

  “I can tell you have another reason besides meeting Lord Giles for wanting to visit there,” he said to Calia.

  “You are beginning to know me too well. My father told me that my mother had died and that was why he took me to Catherstone to live. But Queen Laisren said something to me that made me think perhaps my mother may still be alive.”

  “We know that Walderon often lied for his own purposes,” Garit said thoughtfully. “Just as Mallory lied. He learned from his father, I suppose. How glad I am that Walderon ignored you. But then, I don’t believe you could ever be like either of them. At heart you are too good and true to corrupt your Power as they did theirs.

  “Walderon’s widow now lives at Nozay with Lord Giles,” Garit went on. “Do you intend to question her about Lady Casilde?”

  “My father bedded many women. It’s possible that his widow learned something about my mother from court gossip.”

  “It’s worth asking her.” Garit wound his arms around Calia and bent to kiss her. “In the meantime, I have a more interesting occupation to suggest.”

  “Have you?” Calia lifted her face to his. “Will you be good enough to describe this occupation in compete detail?”

  “It will be my pleasure,” Garit whispered.

  About the Author

  Flora Speer is the traditionally published author of twenty full-length novels and two novellas. She writes historical, futuristic, and time-travel romances. Born in southern New Jersey, she now lives in Connecticut. Among her favorite activities are doing the research for the next book, which is always great fun, gardening, especially herbs and flowers used in medieval gardens, and amateur astronomy. She firmly believes in space travel and wishes the U.S. would restart
its manned space program, which was not only exciting to follow, but often provided great ideas for her futuristic romances.

  “The Fire of the Soul” is the second in a series of fantasy romances set in an alternate medieval world where a form of magic known as the Power is accepted – and is sometimes sadly corrupted.

  Connect with the author:

  Web site: www.floraspeer.com

  E-mail: fspeer22@sbcglobal.net

  Other books by Flora Speer, all available at Smashwords:

  HISTORICAL ROMANCES:

  By Honor Bound

  Much Ado About Love

  The Viking Passion

  For Love And Honor

  Rose Red

  Castle of Dreams

  Castle of the Heart

  Two Turtledoves (Christmas Novella)

  TIME-TRAVEL:

  Twelfth Night (Christmas novella)

  Christmas Carol

  A Time To Love again

  A Love Beyond Time

  Timestruck

  Love Just in Time

  Love Once and Forever (also paranormal)

  PARANORMAL – medieval magic

  Heart’s Magic

  The Magician’s Lover

  A Passionate Magic

  Love Once and Forever (also time-travel)

  FUTURISTIC ROMANCES:

  Venus Rising

  Destiny’s Lovers

  No Other Love

  Lady Lure

  ORIGINAL E-BOOKS

  Lord Royce’s Knights series:

  So Great a Love

  Cast Love Aside

  True Love

  Where Love Has Gone

  Love Everlasting

  Love Above All

  And a Romantic Fantasy series:

  The Secret Heart