by Cas Peace
The only illumination in the room came from the fire and Sullyan’s shimmering rope of power. Once more she turned her eyes to Taran.
“This barrier of metaforce is now alloyed with the element of Water. Artesan Elijah, I bid you enter the circle.”
Chapter Eight
Taran frowned. This was not what he had expected. He could feel the barrier’s force from where he stood. If he tried to cross it unprepared it would burn him. This was another test, and one that could not be beyond his capabilities or Robin would never have been permitted to tell him he had reached the level of Adept.
Taran glanced at the Major, but there was no clue in her eyes, only watchfulness. He trusted that if he made a wrong move, she would not allow her power to harm him. He wouldn’t choose wrongly, though. This time he would fail neither himself nor his father’s years of impatient teaching. He had struggled too long and too hard to allow that to happen.
As he searched his memories, he heard his father’s voice again.
Look for the place of least resistance. Look for the power which most closely matches your own. Merge like with like and you will pass through unscathed.
These instructions had been intended as a guide for the best place to build a portway, a place where the Earth energies could be matched to an Artesan’s psyche. Taran wondered whether the same principle might also apply here.
He inspected the shining snake of power, perceiving how it subtly changed after passing through each person. On leaving Sullyan, its maker, it was pure silver, warm and alive. Passing through Robin, it gained a core like grey steel, solid, dependable, strong. From Rienne it emerged muted, as if wrapped in satin, less inclined to ripple. Cal added a mysterious, dark quality to it that carried an edge of unpredictability. From Bull it snaked away calm, smooth, honed and deadly, until finally uniting tail with head in the crucible of Sullyan’s hands.
Taran smiled. He knew where his gateway lay.
Positioning himself at Cal’s left shoulder, he concentrated on the flaring, twisting rope with its dark core of uncertainty. He suffered a guilty flash of understanding as he accepted that this flaw in Cal was of his making, an unwanted legacy from his father that he would have to correct for both their sakes. Yet its familiarity was his pathway, his route to becoming what he had long thought out of reach; the rank of Adept.
Taran stretched out his right hand and caught the shining rope. Instantly, metaforce flooded his soul. He sensed and acknowledged the separate components added by the five people in the ring and knew the power could never hurt him while those people were his friends. Glancing into Sullyan’s proud and approving gaze, he passed through the shimmering line and entered the circle unscathed.
He stood before her, triumph washing through him. Despite his overwhelming joy, he gave a start of amazement as Sullyan, with a deft movement of her hands that he didn’t quite see, detached herself from her own power and left it hanging in the air. She moved forward to face him, and Taran shook his head. Never would he achieve such casual competence.
Discerning his thoughts, she smiled. She reached out, took his right hand, and placed her left on his shoulder, gently requesting him to kneel. Then she gently touched the first two fingers of her left hand to her brow before pressing them to his.
“Artesan Elijah. By the Mastery of my calling, I confirm you in the rank of Adept.”
Her fingers went to her lips before she gently touched his.
“By the love in my heart, I confirm you in the rank of Adept.”
Finally, she laid her hand on her heart before pressing it to his chest.
“By the power of the craft we share, I confirm you in the rank of Adept.”
He had only ever used it once—to his father—and it took Taran a moment to recognize the traditional salute due to Artesans of superior rank. It signified allegiance of duty, love, and power. Suddenly, he felt overawed.
Sullyan raised her eyes, gazing round at the others. “I bid you hear me well. By the power I wield as Master-elite, I, Major Sullyan, do confirm Taran Elijah as Artesan Adept. I call you all to Witness. Taran, use your power well and wisely. Learn to control and discipline the forces within you, and do so with humility. Taran Elijah, Artesan Adept, I bid you rise.”
Taran raised his face to hers. Tears of pride glistening in his eyes, he performed the ancient salute, signifying his acceptance of her Mastery and confirming his allegiance and duty. The answering gleam of moisture in Sullyan’s eyes gave him a sharp pang. If he ever gained enough knowledge to progress to an even higher rank, she wouldn’t be there to confirm it.
Before he could think better of it, he rose and caught her fast in his arms, trying to convey the gratitude, love, friendship, sorrow, and sympathy he felt. She was taken off guard and let out one uncontrolled sob before using her power to calm herself. Bravely, she returned his embrace.
He realized his error and released her, but she smiled and forgave his lapse before carefully dampening her rope of power, freeing the others to move again. In the mêlée of backslapping, congratulatory hugs, and remarks from the others, only Taran caught sight of the slim woman slipping outside into the chill night air. He didn’t dream of following her.
Worn out by the strength of their emotions, they all sought beds in the servants’ rooms. Although basic, the quarters were well kept and clean, and all the little cots had good quality linen. Despite his obvious lack of wealth, Count Marik had been a good lord to his people.
Marik had gone off to his own rooms earlier to gather what he needed for the coming journey and to bolster his fast-fading courage. He might trust Sullyan to try her best with the Hierarch on his behalf, thought Taran, but he clearly doubted whether the ruler of Andaryon had need of a cowardly and minor noble such as himself. Especially as his allegiance had always been given—however unwillingly—to the Hierarch’s rival.
Before retiring, Robin and Bull took the opportunity to sound each other out on the plans each had made concerning the future. They spoke in low tones, and Taran wouldn’t stoop to eavesdrop, but he did catch them stating that they could not—and would not—disobey a direct order from the Major. However, it was plain to Taran that each had his own idea on how to interpret such an order. Bull then ushered everyone off to bed, leaving Robin to await Sullyan’s return.
* * * * *
She didn’t make him wait long. The warmth and homeliness of the small servants’ kitchen, with its smells of herbs, meat, and fellan, called to her. The ceremony she had performed for Taran served to remind her of what she was going to lose, and she had needed some time alone to regain her composure. It was fragile, though, and she was relieved to find only her Captain seated by the dying fire when she returned, as she didn’t need to pretend with him. After the incident over the duel with Parren and the terrible rift it had caused between them, she felt closer to him than ever. The thought of not being able to spend the rest of a long life with him now that they had openly declared their love cut into her heart like a knife.
She stood silently in the doorway, watching the firelight flicker on the planes of his handsome face, seeing the reflected warmth in his deep blue eyes and the glints of gold in his soft, brown hair. Strong, well-shaped hands lay at peace on his knees, and his slim, muscular body sat easy in the plain wooden chair.
He sensed her regard and turned his head, his eyes dilated and dark. She knew he had something on his mind and put her own thoughts aside as she closed the door on the frost-laden air. She came toward him and he stirred, smiling up at her.
“That was some show you put on for our new Adept. Since when have you been able to manipulate Air so well?”
She knew this wasn’t what he really wanted to say, but she accepted the topic.
“Do you think I do not practice my own teaching, Robin? I trust you are still working on the test I set you as confirmation of your Mastery.”
This reminder of a happier day was almost too much for Robin. He came to his feet and stood close to her,
taking both her hands as if clutching at his courage.
“Sullyan, I’m begging you. Please don’t send me away with the others tomorrow.”
His soul shone naked in his indigo eyes, and she had to look away. She drew a deep breath, sensing the fear sparking in his breast at what she might say.
“Oh, Robin. If it were only up to me, I truly would never be parted from you ever again. In all honesty, I fear I might not be able to complete my task without you.”
She looked up, seeing hope, despair and love playing in his eyes. “But,” she added, “the decision is not mine to make.”
He was astounded and opened his mouth to reply, but she firmly forestalled him. “Neither is it yours.”
“Sullyan!”
She placed the fingers of her left hand across his lips. “No, Robin. I cannot let you throw away a brilliant career and potential for Mastery for nothing.”
Again he opened his mouth, no doubt to protest her use of the word ‘nothing’, but she cut him off.
“My love, it will help me more than I can say to know that whatever befalls me, you are still there, using your training, being what you are, and becoming what you will be. There is much of me in you, both in your control over your powers and in your command of the men of my company. Would you give that up as if it were of no account? You must not. It is part of who you are, and what you would gain in return would soon be just ashes and memories. That is no trade, Robin, believe me. However, for the sake of our love, I will make you a concession.”
He gazed at her through tear-filled eyes, but there was not much hope within them. She tried to smile for him but failed.
“You may wait with me while Bull returns with the others to the Manor. He must speak to the General for me, tell him the situation, and explain why I cannot return. There are also some things I will need. We will have one day to ourselves, but once Bull returns, you must go back with him to continue your career.
“You will always have my love, Robin, you know that. But I will not, I cannot, go through this knowing I have let you destroy the life you love. Can you understand that? Can you ... forgive me?”
He dropped her hands and stepped away, tears falling unchecked. He couldn’t speak, his throat too constricted by grief. Silently, she watched him, wanting to comfort him, yet knowing he had to come to his own acceptance of what must be.
He moved to the table and leaned both hands on it, bowing his head. She saw his shoulders shake as sorrow overwhelmed him. Unable to bear it, she came to his side. Without touching him, she extended her senses until she felt the essence of him within her mind. Carefully, she let him see how deeply she loved him and let her own warm, amber essence mingle with his.
After a few moments, the tremble of his body eased and she felt his spirit respond. He raised his head, turning slowly to look at her. Those deep indigo eyes, shimmering with tears, pierced her heart as they always did with the reflected clarity of his soul. Fractionally, they widened as he caught an echo of her thoughts. Now they held a question.
She brushed her fingers tenderly along the side of his face, feeling the smoothness of his skin. Hesitantly, she smiled. “Robin,” she said, a husky note creeping back into her lilting voice, “I would rather not sleep alone tonight.”
He gave a sharp gasp, half of hope, half of fear. Her heart nearly broke to think he might suspect her of falseness. She met his uncertain gaze with honesty, letting him see her intentions.
He whispered, “Are you sure ...?”
She moved closer, smelling the sweetness of his breath and his other, subtler, masculine odors that she had always found most compelling. Her face came close to his, their lips almost touching. An electric tingle shot through her skin.
“My only love, I have never been surer. Rienne told me once that I should not cast away my one chance of happiness because of duty. She was right. I should not have waited so long, not when I knew how you felt. I was afraid it might ... complicate matters between us. I was wrong. I should have trusted you. I have given us both needless pain, and I am sorry.”
He drew back so he could look in her eyes. He cupped her face in both hands, trembling.
“You did what you thought was right, and I ... well, I have tried to do what you wanted. I will do the same now, but you must be very certain that this is what you want. I couldn’t bear to hurt you—not after what you’ve suffered. But I tell you now, if we go much further than this, I may not be able to help myself.”
“I appreciate your candor, Robin, but I intend to go much, much further than this.” Leaning forward, she kissed him on the lips.
Their minds were still linked, so each felt what the other did. Neither thought they could contain it. After a long moment they broke apart, both breathing heavily. Robin’s eyes were as dilated as Sullyan’s when she expended power. Hers were amber and glowing.
Taking his hand, she led him to the room she had chosen for the night. It was dark within, but the low fire laid earlier lent a pearly quality to the shadows climbing the walls. Robin closed the door behind them and leaned his back to it, his heart thumping in his breast.
Sullyan crossed to the bed and raised her arms to unbraid her wealth of hair. Its silken softness cascaded down her shoulders and back, rippling like liquid fire in the glow of reflected flames. He came silently up behind her and buried his face in the fragrant waves at her neck. She took a deep and trembling breath as she felt his hands upon her. He could feel her tremor as she turned to face him.
“I need you, Robin,” she whispered. “I need you to take away the fear and the pain. I think you are the only one who can.”
Taking their time, they undressed before the fire. Although they had seen each other naked many times during their two years together, that had been a necessary part of their military life and didn’t mean anything. This time, each felt they were learning about a stranger. Reveling in smooth skin, firm muscles, and strong arms, they finally twined themselves together on the bed. Despite his mounting ardor and overwhelming arousal, Robin had the presence of mind, before it was too late, to raise himself from her lips and ask, “Are you still sure?”
His only reply was a pair of slim and urgent arms linking behind his neck and smooth legs locking around his hips. And then it was far, far too late.
Chapter Nine
No one rose early the next morning. Nevertheless, by the time Rienne wandered into the kitchen in the frosty light of the new day, Sullyan and Robin were already seated at the large wooden table, mugs of fellan before them.
Sullyan was oiling her sword blade while talking quietly to the tall, handsome Captain by her side. Rienne glanced at them, and her morning greeting remained unsaid as she took in the relaxed attitude of their bodies so close together, the slight pink flush on the Major’s cheek, and the way their eyes shone when they met.
Sullyan looked up to greet her and Rienne watched her eyes narrow in suspicion as she registered the broad, knowing grin that Rienne failed to hide.
With the merest hint of suggestion, Rienne said, “I trust you both, um, slept well?”
As she picked up two mugs of fellan, eager to tell Cal the news, she saw Sullyan trade a glance with Robin. To her amazement, a shy grin appeared on the Captain’s face.
Bull came in then and walked straight up to the pair at the table. He slapped Robin roundly on the back and gave the startled Major an enormous bear hug. Rienne could see unshed tears standing in his eyes and presumed that his close bond with Sullyan had allowed him to sense what had happened.
Sullyan scowled at him. “Does everyone know our private business?”
Her voice was hard, but Rienne noted the slight curve to her lips.
Bull casually helped himself to fellan. “Only those of us who care about you.”
Snorting in disgust, Sullyan took her gleaming sword back into her room.
Once breakfast was out of the way, there was no avoiding the inevitable painful farewells. Packs were gathered and horses saddled. Th
ey moved out into the brittle morning that at any other time would have dazzled with its beauty. A thick frost lay over everything and myriad crystals sparkled in the winter sun. The horses’ breath plumed in the frozen air.
Marik had made only the briefest of farewells. Wisely deciding his presence would not be required, he had taken himself off to visit old Harva. Robin and Sullyan walked beside Rienne and her friends as they led their horses out into the sunshine. They fussed around, securing packs and adjusting girth straps, until the atmosphere became strained.
Suddenly, Sullyan could stand it no longer.
“It is time,” she announced. “Bull must report to the General as soon as possible.”
Turning to Cal, who stood nearest, she took up one of his hands. “I thank you for your friendship and help over these past weeks. Be sure to take extra care of your lady, there. Rienne is a very special person and has become very dear to me.”
“Of course I will,” mumbled Cal.
Sullyan embraced him, surprising him with a kiss on the cheek. She turned to Taran, who was standing behind his Apprentice. He came forward and placed both hands on Sullyan’s shoulders before she could speak.
“I have to thank you for last night,” he said, a catch in his voice. “If not for you, I’d still be floundering around in my own self-pity. You’ve given me direction and more knowledge than I ever thought I’d have. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, you only have to ask.” Going down on one knee before her, he once more made the brow-lips-heart salute due to a Master-elite.
Her eyes were damp as she raised him. “What you can do for me now, Taran, is continue to fulfill your potential. You have the capacity to become Master at least if you are willing to strive for it. Your father would be very proud of what you have achieved. Whatever you decide about your future, know that Robin and Bull will always be ready to help and guide you. Keep in touch with them and share your strengths. You need never be so alone again.”
