“Are you?” he asked, delighted as her cheeks turned crimson.
Alluria ignored his question as she hurriedly asked another. “If you disliked it so much, why did you join the con’dehr upon your return?”
“I’m the Prelate’s son, what else was I to do?”
“As I was expected to become a priestess.” Alluria looked up at Caol’nir, her gaze serious. “Sarelle has forbidden children from the Great Temple. She says they don’t understand boundaries and reach out to hold our hands or touch us when they shouldn’t. How can one chastise a child for wanting such contact?”
“I thought it was forbidden for anyone, young or old, to lay hands on a priestess,” Caol’nir said, acutely aware of his own transgressions.
“It is forbidden to lay hands upon a priestess if you hold ill intent in your heart,” she clarified. “But a simple gesture of friendship or comfort is another matter. Remember, my god is a god of love.” Alluria reached across the cloak and took Caol’nir’s hand, her smile warm.
“And you can tell, just by a simple touch, that I harbor no such intent toward you?” he asked.
“No,” she replied softly, “I can see it in your eyes.” He tightened his grip on her fingers; Alluria looked away but did not withdraw her hand. “Sarelle is very strict, much stricter than Atreynha was at our temple. Atreynha believed that it was good for one to feel loved, to feel the touch of another. Sarelle has forbidden us from even comforting one another. We live in isolation, islands unto ourselves.”
“That sounds like a punishment,” Caol’nir observed.
“A punishment when we’ve done no wrong.”
Caol’nir laughed to himself. “You’ve been forbidden from touching another, and I grab you about the waist and stick you on a horse. A thousand apologies, my lady,” he offered as he bowed his head.
“You are forgiven, warrior,” Alluria said. She watched his face for long moments, before releasing his hand to resume dividing the herbs. As Caol’nir watched her nimble fingers he saw her tie a neat bundle, only they hadn’t brought any string.
“How did you do that?” he asked, leaning close to investigate.
“With magic,” Alluria replied with a sly smile one could almost call coy. “You have to catch it in the wind, and stretch it between your fingers. Like this.” She made a catching motion with her hands, and then smoothed the air between her fingers while whispering a few words in the old language. In a few moments a red ribbon appeared. Caol’nir stared, awestruck, at what she had done, and she giggled. “It’s not so hard. Here, I will show you.”
First, she had Caol’nir repeat a few words, and when she was confident he had the order and cadence correct she showed him how to capture magic as it blew past on the wind.
“Now think of a color,” she said in her soothing, musical voice. “Think of the most beautiful color you can imagine.” He stretched and smoothed until he held a silky sapphire blue ribbon, the exact color of Alluria’s eyes.
“An excellent effort, warrior,” Alluria said softly. “I’ll make a magic handler out of you, yet.”
He smiled as he tied the ribbon about her wrist, his smile widening when she blushed. Alluria busied herself with her herbs, giving Caol’nir the opportunity to doze off against that inviting tree trunk. He slept contentedly until the elder sun crested the trees and shone directly on his face. He shifted against the bark, searching for another patch of shade, and felt the soft form leaning against him.
Caol’nir opened his eyes, and saw Alluria napping beside him. Reasoning that he did not want her to be cold, he placed his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. Alluria sighed in her sleep as she settled into the crook of his arm, her own arm finding its way around his waist. Caol’nir stroked Alluria’s hair, and her eyes fluttered open.
“Warrior?”
“Forgive me,” he said as withdrew his hand, “I meant no disrespect.”
“Calm yourself,” she said. “I’m not angry with you. And no one is here to inform Sarelle of our indiscretions.” He returned her smile, grateful she was not offended, and then looked to the sky.
“It’s past midday,” he informed her, “I must return you before you’re missed.”
“A little longer,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I may never get outside those infernal walls again. You don’t mind, do you, warrior?”
“Why do you only refer to me as ‘warrior’?”
“Would you rather I called you ‘guard’?”
“I’d rather you called me Caol’nir.”
“You’ve never addressed me be my name, only as ‘my lady’,” she countered.
“It’s not proper to address a priestess by her name.”
“I think we stopped being proper when you brought me to your chamber. And you yourself said that I’m not a priestess this morning.”
“Very well, Alluria,” he conceded. “No matter what you’d like to be called, we need to return.”
“Very well, Caol’nir,” she said, not moving from her position. He resumed stroking her hair, enjoying the feel of the soft strands against his skin. Her form fit perfectly against him, her head neatly tucked against his neck.
“I never thought two people could fit so well together,” she murmured. “I wish we could stay longer.”
Caol’nir squeezed his eyes shut as he clenched his fists. So many times he had dreamed of Alluria saying such words, but now that she had he thought only of his oath to protect her. “This outing was a bad idea,” he muttered as he stood. He grasped her hands with both of his as he pulled her upright, rather more roughly than he had intended. When Caol’nir refused to meet her eyes, she bowed her head.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “This is my fault.”
“Alluria, no,” he said, “this was my foolish notion. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“No, I hold the blame,” she said as she stared at the ground. “I was far too critical of the herbs you brought me out of kindness.” She leaned her brow against his chest and Caol’nir wrapped his arms around her.
“But what I brought was wrong, remember?” he soothed as he stroked her hair. “Maybe if I’d paid better attention to what you needed we wouldn’t be here now.”
“I like being here now,” she said. “I’m so grateful that you cared enough to help me.”
“If you’d like I’ll bring you to gather herbs again, perhaps at the next full moon?” Caol’nir wanted to bite back his words for suggesting another of these forbidden ventures, but then Alluria smiled. He would take her anywhere just to see that smile again.
“Inviting me on another outing? My, we are breaking all sorts of rules today, aren’t we?” she teased. She placed her fingertips on his face and traced the hard line of his jaw. “Does this mean you’ll continue toting me about on your stinking beast?”
“Would you prefer it if I carried you on my back?” he retorted, and she laughed, hiding her face against his chest. “My lady, as much as I would like to hold you all day, we must get back,” he said against her hair.
Alluria nodded as she withdrew from his arms, and took his hand as they walked back to their horse. He squeezed her fingers, also sorry that their time together had ended.
“Caol’nir, do you promise to always be my guard?”
“I swear it on my life.”
Chapter Three
Their return to the palace took much longer than their journey to the meadow, since Caol’nir took the longer path around the foothills rather than over them.
“Why are we going this way?” Alluria asked. “At the meadow you made it seem as if time was of the essence.”
“You should familiarize yourself with the area,” he replied. “To know your way around, should you become lost.”
“As if that would ever happen,” she said. “Unless the king changes the law I’m a prisoner in that palace.”
“In that case,” Caol’nir began, then he flicked the reins and urged his horse to a full gall
op.
“Caol’nir,” Alluria shrieked. “Stop, please!”
“As you like,” Caol’nir said. “Wasn’t that fun?” When Alluria only glared at him, he added, “Look, we’ve reached the royal road. Teg’urnan is just beyond that rise.”
They heard hoof beats behind them, and Caol’nir twisted about in the saddle to see who approached. Caol’nir abruptly pulled up on the reins and dismounted.
“What’s wrong?” Alluria asked as he helped her from the saddle.
“The king approaches,” he replied. Alluria looked behind them and saw the royal procession; it was quite a sight, with the king’s gold standard and streaming blue and red banners. King Sahlgren rode at the head, his guard fanned out behind him.
“I did not know he was away from the palace,” Alluria commented.
“He journeys to the south often,” Caol’nir explained. He noted that Alluria remained standing, and frowned. “Alluria, you must kneel beside me.”
“What? I kneel before no one but Olluhm,” she said.
“Do you want the king and his guard to know that a priestess has left Teg’urnan against his edict?” he demanded. “Remember, you’re not a priestess this morning.” He grabbed her arm and held it in front of her, indicating her saffira’s dress. When she still didn’t move he pulled her to the ground.
“Be angry with me if you wish,” he hissed, “but you must kneel.” Alluria glared at him, but bowed her head as the king approached. She had acquiesced none too quickly, for as soon as she bent her head King Sahlgren was before them.
“Good day, Prelate’s son,” the king stated as he motioned for them to rise. “Which are you?”
“Caol’nir, my lord, the youngest,” he replied. “I trust your journey was good?”
“Yes, yes it was. And who is your companion?” Sahlgren asked, looking at Alluria as if she was a leg of mutton.
Alluria peered at the king; she’d never before been in close proximity to him. She noted that he was a small, dark man, with an almost oily sheen to his hair and skin. All of Parthalan knew the tales of Sahlgren driving the demons away from Teg’urnan as he reclaimed it for the fae, yet she could not reconcile that fantastic legend with the little man before her.
“She’s from the kitchens,” Caol’nir explained.
“Kitchens, eh? I assumed she was your latest from The Swan,” Sahlgren said. “What’s your name, girl?”
“Annalee, my lord,” Alluria replied.
“Annalee.” The king rolled the false name about on his tongue. “Why haven’t I ever seen you?” Sahlgren asked. “A pretty thing like you would certainly stand out amongst those hags. Busy warming the con’dehr’s beds?” The king and his guard laughed while Alluria forced herself to remain calm. No one, not even the king, would dare to speak to a priestess in such a manner.
“I’ve only been in Teg’urnan a short time, my lord, and surely you have better things to do than frequent the hot, smelly kitchens,” she replied with a coy glance.
“She’s a fiery one, boy,” the king said as he clapped Caol’nir’s shoulder. “I trust you’ll take full advantage of that?”
“My lord,” Caol’nir acknowledged.
“Don’t tire of her too quickly,” Sahlgren added with a lewd glance at Alluria. “Not that we wouldn’t take up your leftovers!” Alluria’s cheeks went scarlet as Sahlgren and his guard laughed. Somehow, she kept herself silent as the procession continued toward Teg’urnan. Once they were out of earshot Caol’nir turned to her.
“I’m sorry you had to endure that,” he said. “My lady, if I’d known that we might have encountered—”
“That horrible little creature is our king?” Alluria demanded. “The man who ordered our confinement to this stone prison, yet did not have the courage to attend us upon our arrival?” Alluria remembered well when she arrived at Teg’urnan, and Sarelle informing her that Sahlgren had sequestered himself in his chambers and was thus unable to welcome the priestesses.
“Yes, he is our king,” Caol’nir confirmed.
“The way his guard acted,” she continued. “They wouldn’t have dared laugh if I’d been wearing my robes. And the way he spoke to you, as if you were beneath him!”
“I am beneath him,” Caol’nir reminded her. He grasped her about the waist to help her into the saddle, but she placed her hand on his chest.
“He may be our king, but you are the better man,” she said softly. Caol’nir blinked, then he smiled.
“Up you go,” he said as he lifted her onto the saddle. “Let’s see if I can manage the rest of this journey without incident.” Caol’nir maintained a gentle walk as they approached the palace. Alluria leaned against his chest and mulled over her encounter with the king.
“Do you think I’m fiery?” she asked.
“You’re as fiery as the elder sun, my lady,” he replied. “The king was wrong. I don’t go to The Swan for women. Caol’non does, but I don’t.”
“Then where do you get your women?” Alluria asked.
“I, um.” Caol’nir rubbed the back of his neck. “I think such acts are for mates, not casual dalliances.”
“Oh.” After a moment, she added, “You didn’t have to tell me that. I wouldn’t think less of you if you went there for…that.”
“I want you to know the truth. Why did you say your name was Annalee?”
“That was my mother’s name.”
“Do you take after her?”
“I don’t remember her,” she replied in a small voice. “Do you look like your mother?”
“No, my brothers and I take after our father.”
“That is Solon’s legacy,” Alluria said. “His blood is strong within his descendants.”
“You think I look like a god?” Caol’nir asked. Alluria gave him the same coy glance she used on the king.
“Would you blush if I said yes?” she countered. Caol’nir said nothing but the color in his ears answered her. “I know you were trying to embarrass me,” she mumbled as she settled against his chest.
“So you do think I look like a god,” Caol’nir said.
“Caol’nir, you’re incorrigible.”
“Lord Caol’nir, to you,” he corrected, and Alluria laughed. Then she heard someone call out to them, and she realized it was the gatekeeper asking how their outing was. The guards, impressed that Alluria still clung to Caol’nir so tightly, yelled out a few bawdy comments about what the pair had been doing all morning.
“Does every man in the palace speak this way?” she asked as they passed through the gates.
“They merely wonder why one as beautiful as you would allow an fool like me to tote her about on his stinking beast,” he replied. Alluria felt her cheeks warm, and hid her face against his chest.
After returning the horse, they walked to Caol’nir’s chamber. They didn’t encounter anyone who might recognize them, until they were within sight of his door. Caol’nir heard footsteps and pulled Alluria’s hood over her face and pushed her against the wall.
“What are you doing?” Alluria asked as Caol’nir trapped her with his body.
“Hiding you,” he whispered, sliding his hand to the nape of her neck.
“Seems like something other than hiding,” Alluria breathed.
“Don’t tempt me.” He traced her cheek with his thumb and leaned his forehead against hers. Alluria placed her hands on his chest, but before she spoke the owner of the footsteps hailed them.
“Brother,” called Caol’non. “Where have you been all morning?” Caol’nir blew out a lungful of air, and hoped he could fool his brother as easily as he fooled the gatekeeper. He turned ever so slightly so his twin could see the female form pressed against him.
“She’s a little shy,” Caol’nir said with a sheepish grin. “I took her to pick some flowers.” Caol’non laughed and clapped his brother on the back.
“I told Fiornacht you weren’t besotted with any priestess,” he proclaimed. “Take your time, I’ll tell Father you’re b
usy.”
Caol’nir mumbled his appreciation and practically shoved Alluria into his chamber. She watched him close the heavy door and lean against it, wondering what they would have said or done if they were discovered. When he finally turned to Alluria, she caught him in her level gaze.
“A warrior besotted with a priestess?” she inquired. “Anyone I know?”
“Yes,” he replied, his eyes not leaving hers.
Alluria speaks…
Gods, gods, gods, yesterday was both the best day since I was dragged to this stone prison, and the worst day I’ve ever spent. I’ve always wondered how Caol’nir truly felt about me, if his silly grins were meant for me alone or if he flirted with any woman who crossed his path, and I believe I have my answer. To think that he would risk his very life to spirit me outside the palace, and for such a mundane reason as to gather herbs!
And he was so wonderful while we were in the meadow, remaining ever honorable even as I leaned my head on his shoulder. And the way he helped me on and off the horse... He was so gentle, treating me as if I was made of glass and might crack at any moment. Then, while we rode back to the palace he said I was beautiful—me, beautiful!—and I couldn’t even thank him for his kind words. Caol’nir is everything I thought he was and more.
Which is why yesterday was the worst day of my life, for I’ve never questioned my calling as a priestess so much as when Caol’nir held me. When he tried concealing me in the corridor I was shocked that he would pretend he was kissing me, only to be disappointed when he didn’t. He truly is the most honorable member of the con’dehr, and did nothing to endanger his oath or my vows. How I wish he had, how I wish he had.
Knowing that I had to purge these blasphemous thoughts from my mind, I rose as the elder sun did and made my way to Olluhm’s shrine. I knelt before his statue—after kneeling before our foul king yesterday I took another vow, to kneel before no one but the gods no matter what awful dress I’m wearing—and contemplated his stone face as I gathered my thoughts.
“My lord, why do I have these desires?” I asked. “I swear to you, I hold you in my heart above all others, but this warrior finds ways to sneak into my soul. Please, help me forget how he makes me feel.”
Heir to the Sun Page 3
