Queens of Tristaine

by Cate Culpepper

  Doubtless aware of Brenna’s presence since she entered the meadow, Jess turned and sauntered to her, smiling. She slipped her arms around Brenna’s waist.

  “Looks like that did you more good than an extra hour’s sleep.” Brenna patted Jess’s damp chest with the edge of her shawl.

  “It did. Good morning, lass.” She dipped her head and brushed Brenna’s lips with her own. “Are you well?”

  “I’m well. But Shann isn’t, Jesstin.” She met Jess’s stunned look, feeling slightly guilty at finding relief unburdening her fears while adding them to Jess’s load. “Elise was able to bring us together through my dreams. Shann’s caught it. So far she’s still on her feet, but Bethany and others are pushing hard to take our children off the mesa.”

  Jess’s brow furrowed. “That’s idiocy. Don’t they see—”

  “No, that’s the problem, they’re not thinking.” Brenna ran the soft cloth of her shawl down Jess’s muscled arms, drying them. “Shann’s in control, but I wish she had either Vicar or Hakan with her. What if this panic spreads?”

  “Our lady has Aria and Sarah,” Jess reminded her. “They’re both formidable allies. Sarah will bellow sense into our sisters, and if that doesn’t work, Aria will scratch out their eyes.”

  “But what about muscle?” Brenna grimaced at the thought. “May every goddess alive save us from raising arms against our own, but if it comes to that—”

  “Oisin and Jackson are young, but they’re both able warriors. Better, they’re honorable, cool-headed, and smart. They’ll back Shann’s every breath and hold any force to an absolute minimum.” Jess stroked Brenna’s hair. “Shann has coped countless times with dissent in our clan, adonai. Have faith in her. Just as our lady trusts us to bring swift help.”

  “I will.” Brenna sighed and leaned against Jess. She knew they both still feared for their clan, but as always Jess’s strength offered welcome reassurance.

  She closed her eyes as a rough hand moved down her back, probing gently, easing her stiffness. Brenna cupped the gleaming swells of Jess’s shoulders in her palms. Jess touched her chin, and tipped her face to receive her kiss.

  It began as a warm, languid exploration of soft lips, reminiscent of their usual greeting on peaceful Tristaine mornings. Then Brenna felt a creeping thrill of arousal work through her as Jess’s mouth roughened against hers and became more demanding. She ran her fingers through Jess’s wild hair and pulled her head closer against her.

  “I’ve offered my prayers,” Jess growled into Brenna’s neck. She lipped her way wetly to the top of her shoulder. “I’m sure my Mothers will grant me a moment of worship.”

  Jess lifted her head, and Brenna saw the heat building in her, the silvering in her lover’s blue eyes that signaled her growing need. A similar sensual chord resonated in the depths of Brenna’s belly.

  Jess’s arms went suddenly still around her, a courtly restraint that allowed Brenna time to make her choice. Once given, her permission would not be requested again, but it wasn’t a difficult decision. Brenna signaled assent by softening her body and allowing her breasts to brush Jess’s taut ones.

  Jess’s eyes turned feral and she buried her lips against Brenna’s neck again, her long fingers deft and quick on the laces of Brenna’s light topshirt. She clenched the cloth in her hands and yanked it open, baring Brenna to the waist with shocking abruptness. The first rays of the rising sun dappled across her exposed breasts, her pink nipples quivering to life in the cool morning air.

  “Ssssucculent...” Jess’s sibilant brogue was impossibly enticing. Her rough palms swarmed over Brenna’s full globes, cupping them, squeezing. A jagged bolt of desire surged through Brenna, and she threw her arms around Jess’s neck too eagerly, knocking them both off-balance.

  “Ooof!”

  Jess landed hard on her back in the high grass, Brenna sprawled on top of her, and for a moment they enjoyed that lovely combustion of laughter and arousal that often flavored their lovemaking. But Jess was too heated to tolerate much distraction. She turned Brenna on her back and moved over her with urgent efficiency, stripping her leggings and lowering her own, then pinning Brenna’s arms and legs to the ground beneath her.

  Their kiss ran deep this time, the joining and melding of their mouths a lush banquet of sensation that was at once both tender and crudely demanding. Jess’s lips moved lower and coasted over Brenna’s cool breasts, pausing to suck at one turgid nipple, then the other, biting it gently, and she arched hard against her. Gasping, Jess stared down at her, and Brenna drank in the image, not of her friend and lifemate, but a crazed Amazon warrior pinning her to the earth, her muscular legs forcing her knees widely apart.

  “You’re mine to pleasure, querida.” Jess’s predatory smile sparked a rush of carnal heat through Brenna’s groin. Jess lowered her hips, and the coarse hair of her mound brushed across Brenna’s open sex. “And you’ll not escape my touch.”

  Brenna’s breath grew ragged, and she ground the back of her head into the grass as Jess thrust her hips, continuing the lewd scrubbing between her helplessly splayed legs. The intensity of the pleasure growing in her center almost frightened Brenna, and she knew Jess could see it in her face and in the hectic color rising in the smooth paleness of her exposed breasts.

  Climax hit Brenna almost silently, propelled by the breath that hissed explosively between her clenched teeth. Jess timed her ecstasy with expert care, slowing her movements as the waves of release washed through Brenna. Then she collapsed beside her in the grass, panting.

  “Amen,” Brenna gasped.

  “Aye.” There was a definite note of cocky satisfaction in Jess’s tone, so well deserved Brenna couldn’t even tease her for it. She was still coming down from the shivering heights of this shared prayer, and Jess stroked her arm with gentle patience.

  Brenna hadn’t realized how dearly they had both missed this most tangible expression of their love. Since the first ravens fell on Tristaine’s mesa, she and Jess had had little time or privacy for intimate communion. Relatively modest, even demure in public, Brenna tended toward rather embarrassingly loud declarations of appreciation when pleasure took her. This morning, though, the immensity of her climax had been contained in that one long, drawn-out hiss, and tendrils of that liquid delight still swirled through her.

  Vicar’s faint, surly whistle reached them through the trees. The signal was a general summons, not an alarm, but it needed to be answered promptly.

  “Ears,” Jess whispered, and Brenna covered hers gratefully before Jess’s sharp whistle split the morning air. They helped each other up and adjusted their clothing, snickering as they slapped grass off each other.

  Brenna wound her arm through Jess’s and they started back toward the camp. Their spirits were replenished now in every way possible, and they couldn’t linger.

  The City waited below.

  Chapter Six

  Jess let out a low whistle. To most ears it would be indistinguishable from the birdsong filtering from the surrounding trees, but the five women riding with her were instantly alert. They reined their horses to a halt.

  Jess listened, her head tilted slightly to catch the smallest nuance of sound. She glanced at Vicar, who pointed to two sections of heavily forested terrain on either side of the path ahead. Jess nodded. She turned on Bracken’s back and signaled Dana and Hakan with a complex flourish of hand signs. Dana squinted, then flashed Jess a silent thumbs-up.

  Both Brenna and Kyla were fit and well-schooled in the basic tenets of close fighting, and Jess knew they could hold their own in any fair match. But Kyla was pledged to the guild of artists, and Brenna to Tristaine’s seers, and they lacked the intensive training of Jess’s warriors. She wanted them both placed with more experienced fighters.

  Dana and Hakan paired with Kyla, and Brenna nudged her mount closer to ride with Jess and Vicar. The two parties peeled quietly off both sides of the trail and moved into the shadows of the trees on either side.

  Jess f
elt a polite tap on her shoulder.

  “I still don’t know what we’re doing,” Brenna whispered. “Not that I have to. Just letting you know.”

  Jess checked the breeze to see how sound might travel before she answered. “I heard a man’s voice, Bren, just over the rise ahead. Sounded like a command. We need to assume we’ve found hostile natives, until they prove us wrong. Shh, now.”

  She raised a hand, and their horses stopped. Jess lifted her leg over Bracken’s neck and dropped soundlessly to the ground, then turned and helped Brenna slide down Hippo’s side. Jess took her coiled rope from her belt, and Vicar unlaced the sleek bow and quiver from her horse’s back.

  The summer earth was blanketed in soft grass and moss, which helped silence their approach. Jess dropped to the ground and crawled to the top of the curved ridge. She scanned the grove of trees below and the six uniformed figures filtering through them.

  She heard Dana’s brief whistle and acknowledged it, but the signal was unnecessary. She’d fought enough City soldiers to recognize the breed on sight. Jess shivered as a coldness worked through her, a familiar chill that ran through her blood and prepared her to fight. She looked to her left and returned Vicar’s steely smile.

  They weren’t outnumbered, but they were certainly out-gunned. The City patrol was armed with bolt-action rifles. The Amazons carried daggers, slings, bows, and escrima sticks, short, thin clubs favored for close fighting. Strategies clicked through Jess’s mind in fast, methodical order. There was no going around this patrol or out-waiting them. If they weren’t stopped now, her adanin risked encountering them again between here and the City.

  And the Amazons would have to draw lifeblood. If any of these soldiers escaped and lived to warn their commanders, the protective cloak of secrecy guarding this mission would be lost. Shann bade Tristaine’s warriors to fight without harm whenever they could, but lives must be taken today. Jess just needed to ensure soldiers died, not Amazons.

  She reached for Brenna’s cold hand and covered it with her own. Brenna’s eyes were worried, but they crinkled with her smile, and she offered Jess a simple nod of confidence. Jess drew a deep breath and whistled a clear, mild series of notes. Their deceptive beauty signaled the necessity of killing, and the attack fell fast.

  War cries burst from six throats and echoed crazily through the trees, sounding twice their number. Jess darted over the edge of the rise, feeling Vicar and Brenna surge with her on either side. They ran hard, kicking through the high grass, and then Jess dodged right, pushing Brenna with her, as one of their startled prey finally managed to squeeze off a shot in their direction. The bullet sang harmlessly wide.

  “Base,” Jess barked at Brenna, slapping the trunk of a large oak as she raced past it.

  “Base,” Brenna acknowledged behind her, sliding to a stop near the tree. It would provide her adequate cover while she sighted her targets.

  There were roars and shouts from the City patrol, and more shots punctured the air. Jess and Vicar, running side by side, lengthened their stride and left the ground at almost the same second. Vic vaulted high into the branches of a tall oak, Jess into those of a red cedar.

  Jess darted through the lush inner limbs of the tree, the rope coiled high on her shoulder. She balanced easily on a thick branch, then crouched and knotted the rope to it with a few deft twirls.

  “This way, Sergeant!” Two soldiers were jogging closer, a man and a woman, clenching their rifles and stretching to see through the trees ahead.

  Jess checked Brenna’s position, and then dropped into thin air. The rope caught her and she swung in a vicious arc, using her momentum to kick powerfully into the first soldier’s chest. He sailed backward and crashed into the woman behind him, his arms spinning helplessly, his rifle flying when he hit the ground.

  Jess shrugged off the rope and snatched the rifle from the grass, and her fingers flew over the bolt release. Unfamiliar with firearms but understanding the general principle, she snapped the rifle’s stock to her shoulder and fired twice.

  Half expecting the twang of her bowstring, the two sharp cracks in her ear were painfully loud—but arrow or bullet, Jess’s aim was true. The reclining soldier was struck in the chest, and the woman behind him in the head as she started to rise.

  Jess didn’t wait to see her fall. She whirled and took in their small battleground. Vicar, still crouching on the limb of the oak, had felled two soldiers with arrows—clean shots and swift deaths. Hakan was finishing off the man she knelt over now, thrusting a dagger through his heart with a trilling cry. Jess searched for Brenna and saw her checking the two soldiers who fell from her bullets.

  Then Jess heard Dana’s full-throated roar and saw her grappling hand-to-hand with a soldier as tall and solid as a stone block. Kyla had jumped onto the man’s back and wrapped her arm around his throat to cut off his air.

  Even as Jess broke into a run, Dana executed the escape she had performed perfectly in drills a hundred times. She pivoted and twisted, using the man’s superior strength against him, and broke his hold. Dana’s dagger flashed, and the soldier bent double, bellowing in pain. Kyla slid quickly off his back, and he crashed to the ground on his side.

  Jess reached them, and released a sharp whistle. Her adanin answered at once, and Jess closed her eyes in relief. All her sisters were still standing. Dana was next to her, panting, staring down at the soldier curled at their feet. Blood was trickling from her nose, but she looked otherwise unhurt. Jess gripped Dana’s shoulder and then knelt beside the fallen man.

  Boy, she corrected. The pale face that was revealed when she turned the soldier onto his back still held traces of acne. He clenched the gory shirt over his stomach, his teeth gritted in pain, and stared up at Jess through wide, shocked eyes. She studied the wound dispassionately. Dana’s thrust would prove fatal, but only after long hours of suffering.

  Jess put a hand on his chest. “What’s your name, son?”

  “Private Curtis Voakes, bitch!” the soldier spat, and a drop of blood flew from his lips and struck Jess’s breast.

  Jess felt Dana stiffen, but she didn’t hold the boy’s rage against him. He had just watched Amazons wipe out all of his brothers. She glanced up at Kyla, who understood at once and turned away. Jess wrapped her hands around the soldier’s head and felt his convulsive trembling. A quick snap and this bloody fight would be over.

  “Jess, wait.” Brenna knelt beside her, breathing hard. She showed her the flask she held. “It’s painless and very fast.”

  Jess looked into Brenna’s beautiful eyes, soft and pleading, and slid her hands from beneath the boy’s head. Brenna pressed her arm in thanks, then moved closer to the soldier and lifted his head with effort. She held the flask to his gaping lips.

  “You’re dying, Curtis.” Jess sat back on her heels and studied him. “This drink will ease your pain and take you quickly. We can’t force you to swallow, but you are dying today. I’d choose the easier path.”

  The boy let out a few explosive breaths, his heavy brows furrowed, looking from Jess’s face to Brenna’s. When his gaze fastened on Brenna’s compassionate gaze, she tipped the flask. His sharp Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and he coughed, hard. Jess looked up as Hakan joined their circle, then Vicar, shouldering her bow. Their expressions were impenetrable, but Kyla looked down at the dying soldier with tears in her eyes.

  “You gonna throw us into a ravine?” The boy still struggled for defiance, but the pain and his fear were weakening him.

  “Your remains will be treated with respect,” Jess told him. “Your kin will find you.”

  “That’s more kindness than you’d have shown us, boy.” Vicar only spoke the truth, and no one contested her.

  Jess watched the drug take hold. The soldier’s big body relaxed slowly as the pain left him, and he let out a hitching sigh of relief. His eyelids began to flutter.

  “Annie,” he whispered. His eyes closed, and Brenna lowered his head gently to the grass.

>   Jess waited until the boy’s chest rose and fell one last time. Then she rose and helped Brenna stand. “Have we any injured?”

  “No.” Dana stood with her fists braced on her hips as Kyla examined her bleeding nose. “We’re just fine.”

  “All’s well, Jesstin.” Hakan snapped her dagger into the sheath on her belt. “We took no mortal hits.”

  “And perhaps we’ve gained some time.” Jess looked thoughtfully at the dead soldier at her feet. “We’re long leagues from the City limits. These soldiers didn’t walk up here, they had some kind of transport.”

  Dana lit up. “You’re right, Jess! Let’s go find us some jeeps!”

  “Just as soon as we honor the dead, youngster.” Hakan studied the small clearing, frowning. “Or at least find them some shelter from the wolves.”

  Jess raised her aching arm, and Brenna sighed and nestled against her side. She rested her lips in her adonai’s soft hair and sent silent thanks to her Mothers that Brenna hadn’t had to draw lifeblood in this skirmish. Her breathing was even now, and she seemed to be recovering fast from the sick adrenaline surge of the fight.

  Violence had been alien to Brenna when she first came to Tristaine. Jess had known that within minutes of meeting her. Caster’s vicious attacks on Jess and the rest of their sisters had ignited a protective passion in their gentle healer. Brenna had fought fiercely in Tristaine’s battles, but so far she had been spared dealing out any killing strikes. Jess prayed she always would be.

  She kissed Brenna’s forehead. Then she went to Dana, and peered at her nose.

  “It’s not broken, Jess.” Dana winced. “Don’t you dare do that cracking thing with your thumbs.”

  “No cracking needed, adanin.” Jess tapped Dana’s cheek. “But you could have ducked. We were hoping not to draw notice in the City. This honker of yours will be swollen and bruised.”

  Dana sighed. “I guess I should have yelled ‘not the face.’”

  “It’s still a very pretty face.” Brenna checked Dana’s injury. “I doubt we can find much ice around here, Dana, but at this altitude, river water is cold enough to help with swell—”