Strong Wine
Page 24
“Yes?”
He laughed, looking a little self-conscious. “I don’t know how this is usually done, but I will do my best.” He paused. “Damiskos Temnon, I want to ask for your hand in marriage.”
Damiskos looked at him. He was perfectly serious. In one impossible sentence he had pushed past all the uncertainty and launched them onto uncharted water. It was absurd, and it was perfect. Damiskos gripped his hands.
“I accept.”
Varazda’s smile was like summer. “Really? Just like that? I expected you to say, ‘What?’ or ‘How?’ at the very least.”
Damiskos laughed. “I guess ‘how’ is something we’ll have to work out, but—to be married to you, Varazda, nothing in the world makes more sense to me than that.”
“I know. That’s what I want for you.” He cupped Damiskos’s face in his hands. “For both of us.”
Epilogue
It was Turning Month, the first of the year, a propitious month for new beginnings, even though it was also cold and wet and celebrations had to be held indoors or under awnings. But the day was clear and crisp, and there had been no rain since last night. Clematis and almond trees were blooming in the quiet streets of Varazda’s neighbourhood as he and Dami walked back from the Temple of Terza.
The words of the oath they had taken in the temple echoed in Varazda’s mind. It was one that soldier couples often swore, promising lifelong fidelity in some very stern language. (There was rather a lot about blood.) When Dami had first told Varazda about it, he’d sounded hesitant, as if he was pretty sure Varazda wouldn’t want to do it. “Well, there is this thing in my religion … ” It had taken him weeks after their engagement to work himself up to mentioning it. It was very obvious that it was something he wanted to do.
There had been some preliminaries; Varazda had to sit through a couple of ceremonies and spend a night in the temple before he could participate in one of their rites, but that had honestly been quite interesting, like getting to know a particularly strange and serious branch of his lover’s family. Much less tiresome than dealing with Dami’s actual family. And the other day, when Marzana’s elder son had explained at great length why some theologians considered Terza to be an avatar of the Almighty, Varazda had actually been able to follow most of the argument.
Because of the military aspect of the whole thing, he was dressed for his wedding in a plain saffron-coloured tunic with his hair tied back and the smallest possible gold rings in his ears. He’d worn Dami’s scarlet cloak on the way there in the chilly dawn, and now that the day had warmed slightly, he had thrown it back from his shoulders. He felt like a man, that morning, and he liked it.
They didn’t talk, just walked arm-in-arm the way they liked to, and every so often they would glance at each other and smile.
There were tables set up in Saffron Alley, hung with garlands of all the greenery available at this time of year. Piled on dishes and in baskets was an absurd amount of food. Yazata had been cooking for days. Maia had popped in the door every so often to ask if they were having such-and-such, and say, “Oh, no, but you must!” if they said they weren’t, and then go off to procure whatever it was.
But none of it was going to waste, Varazda realized, because the number of guests packed into the cul-de-sac when they arrived made them both stop and exchange startled glances.
“Did you … did you want a big party like this?” Varazda asked, worried. He wasn’t sure this was the sort of thing Dami enjoyed, but now that he thought about it he realized he had never asked.
“Yes,” said Dami, hesitantly, as if it were an admission. “Did you?”
“I? Oh, of course! I love weddings.”
“So do I.”
“I just didn’t think … ”
“That they were planning anything like this,” Dami finished for him.
Varazda scanned the crowd. People from the embassy were there, and students and teachers from the dance studio, including a couple of Dami’s new pupils, wearing their swords and looking very slick. Ino was there with a young man who must have been her stepson, and Timiskos sat next to them. Absolutely everyone from the neighbourhood was there, including a few who Varazda had always assumed disliked him; but perhaps they were there because they liked Dami better, or perhaps it was for the free food.
A knot of Ariston’s friends lounged on the doorstep of the music shop. There was Maraz and a group of Yazata’s friends, closer to the house. There was Marzana, hovering near the chair where Chereia was sitting—which he had probably fetched for her from the house and insisted she sit in, because she was expecting their third child.
There was Phormion, who owned the land at the end of the street where Xanthe was now stabled. Someone had hung a net bag of apples on the fence, so there was a distinct possibility that the horse herself was going to put in an appearance.
Yazata bustled out of the house wearing his new robe, bright red as befit a member of a Zashian bride’s family, carrying a platter of fried sesame cakes. Kallisto pulled Ariston out of his way as he came down the steps. Behind him, Nione emerged from the house, serene and priestly in her Maiden’s robes, followed by Aradne, with her gold butterflies in her hair. Remi popped out from under a table, chasing one of the other children, and Selene gave a loud honk—whether of outrage or joy, Varazda couldn’t say.
He looked at Dami, intending to say something, but there were tears in Dami’s eyes. So Varazda just slipped his arm around Dami’s waist, and they stood there, waiting for their wedding guests to notice that they were home.
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List of Places
Strong Wine is set in a fictional world loosely based on the cultures of the ancient Mediterranean. Here are some details about the places mentioned in the story.
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Pseuchaia: A group of city-states, mostly on islands, with a common language and religion, usually in alliance with one another but not always.
Pheme: An island and a very large city on that island. Pheme is a republic and the most powerful city-state in the region. The city is located on the west coast of the island; the interior of the island is mountainous, and there are villages and seaside estates around the coast. The city of Pheme is built on seven hills: the Tetrina, Vallina, Goulina, Vernina, Portina, Rhina, and Skalina. The river Phira runs through the city.
Boukos: A city on an island of the same name, a short sea-voyage to the northwest of the island of Pheme. For the last eight years, Boukos has had a trade agreement with the kingdom of Zash. A permanent Zashian embassy was established seven years ago. None of the other Pseuchaian states has an official alliance with Zash. The governing body of Boukos is called the Basileon.
Zash/Sasia: A sprawling kingdom on the mainland to the east of the islands of Pseuchaia. Their language, religion, and culture are very different from those of Pseuchaia (and also diverse within the kingdom). Zash is what they call their land; Pseuchaians find this difficult to pronounce and so call it Sasia.
Suna: The main seat of the king of Zash.
Deshan Coast: A politically volatile region in the west of Zash. Damiskos served with the Phemian army in this region, and this is also where Varazda is from.
Gudul: An obscure provincial palace and city in Zash. This is where Varazda lived when he was enslaved.
Laothalia: Nione Kukara’s villa on the north coast of the island of Pheme. This is where the events of Sword Dance took place.
Acknowledgments
I started writing Sword Dance while I was pregnant with my daughter, who is now almost five years old. Over the time it has taken me to finish this series, I’ve had help from many wonderful people. I’m grateful, as always, to Alexandra Bolintineanu, for encouragement, practical plot help, and everything in between, and to my editor May Peterson for her excellent work getting this fi
nal book into shape. Vic Grey continues to blow me away with their amazing art that captures Dami and Varazda so well. And thanks again to Mary Beth Decker for her assistance, especially her excellent work on the cover copy. Finally, I’m grateful to my husband for his unwavering support and to my daughter for being a joy and an inspiration (literally, though happily she does not have a pet goose).
Also by A.J. Demas
Something Human
They met on a battlefield and saved each other’s lives. It’s not the way enemies-to-lovers usually works.
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Adares comes from a civilization of democracy and indoor plumbing. Rus belongs to a tribe of tattooed, semi-nomadic horse-breeders. They meet in the aftermath of battle, when Rus saves Adares’s life, and Adares returns the favour. As they shelter in an abandoned temple, a friendship neither of them could have imagined grows into a mutual attraction.
But Rus, whose people abhor love between men, is bound by an oath of celibacy, and Adares has a secret of his own that he cannot share. With their people poised for a long and bitter conflict, it seems too much to hope that these two men could turn their fleeting happiness into something lasting. Unless, of course, the relationship between them changes the course of their people’s history altogether.
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Something Human is a standalone m/m romance set in an imaginary ancient world, about two people bridging a cultural divide with the help of great sex, pedantic discussions about the gods, and bad jokes about standing stones.
Find Something Human at your favourite online retailer.
One Night in Boukos
On a night when the whole city is looking for love, two foreigners find it in the last place they expected.
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The riotous Psobion festival is about to begin in the city of Boukos, and the ambassador from the straightlaced kingdom of Zash has gone missing. Ex-soldier Marzana, captain of the embassy guard, and the ambassador’s secretary, the shrewd and urbane eunuch Bedar, are the only two who know.
Marzana still nurses the pain of an old heartbreak, and Bedar has too much on his plate to think of romance. Neither of them could imagine finding love in this strange, foreign city. But as they search desperately for their employer through the streets and taverns and brothels of Boukos, they find unexpected help from two of the locals: a beautiful widowed shopkeeper and a teenage prostitute.
Before the Zashians learn what became of their ambassador, they will have to deal with foreign bureaucracy, strange food, stranger local customs, and murderers. And they may lose their hearts in the process.
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One Night in Boukos is a standalone romance featuring two couples, one m/f and one m/m.
Find One Night in Boukos on your favourite online retailer!
About the Author
A.J. Demas is an ex-academic who formerly studied and taught medieval literature, and now writes romance set in a fictional world based on an entirely different era. She lives in Ontario, Canada, with her husband and cute daughter.
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Find out about upcoming books and more here:
www.ajdemas.com
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A.J. also publishes fantasy and historical fiction with a metaphysical twist under a different name (her real one). You can find those here: www.alicedegan.com