Ari watched the swirls of red in the center of the stone. His own scarlet pulsed against his chest. “Two gold for each orange, and four for each scarlet.”
“We have a deal.” After she counted the coins, the acolyte carried the chest from the room.
Ari smiled. He had enough coins to discharge the debt to one of the men who had found him. Perhaps Bil would finally tell all he knew about the child Ari had been.
Malera glided to his side. “My handsome stone seeker, come with me to the harras where a life of ease and pleasure awaits.” Ari’s pendant sent jolts of heated warning through his blood. He shook his head. “I have no desire for ease. If I enter the harras, who will bring the stones you need? There are but a dozen stone seekers. Some seasons, no crystals are found. Only twice did my partner and I fail in the past twenty years. Ask the priestess who usually buys the fyrestones about a seeker named Jorg. He trained me.” Ari stepped back. Thoughts of being intimate with this woman made his skin feel as though insects crawled over the surface.
She reached for his hand. “Why do you hesitate to accept what men so eagerly seek?”
Ari drew a deep breath and searched for an answer that wouldn’t stir her simmering anger. “Seeking stones is in my blood. I’ve been one since I was a child. The harras would become a prison and I would be a sullen failure as a lover.”
She clasped his forearm. “Good stone seekers are hard to find. A sullen stud foments trouble and must be destroyed. Still, I want to share pleasure with you. Your scent, your body, and your voice, call to me. Return to the temple after the solstice ceremony. On that day, the priestesses and the men they choose to honor may freely delight in the appetites of desire.”
Ari hesitated. How could he refuse, yet how could he accept? He had no desire to share anything with her except the stones he sold.
Without a word of dismissal, she gathered the cloth and carried the stones to the inner chamber. The movement of the beaded curtain produced a cacophony of sound
Her departure brought Ari a welcome relief from the tension and discomfort that flooded his body. He sank on a bench and closed his eyes to purge the desires she had stirred.
Once he felt in control again, he strode to the rotunda door and stepped outside. The sun moved toward the horizon. In the morning, he would purchase supplies and speak to Bil. Then he would leave and be far from Rosti on Solstice Day. He had no intention of being near the hamlet or the chief priestess during the celebration of the year’s longest day.
* * *
Malera caressed the scarlet fyrestone the seeker had brought. The swirling colors raised a need to call the flames, but this pair was too precious to waste their power on a whim. Until the other seekers arrived, there would be no stones to use for the pleasure of basking in the heat and light of a crystal.
She drew a deep breath. Even if she had a dozen scarlets, today wasn’t one when she could safely draw the blazes contained in the opaline stones. If she waited, the flames she called would burn higher and wilder the longer she denied the pulsing rhythms flowing through her body. Just as the fires in her belly brought juices to her nether lips, so would the heat of the fyrestones flood her spirit. Her laughter flowed deep and full.
The stone seeker had ignited embers only his fluids could quench. In eight days, he would be hers for a day and night, and she would bathe in his essence. Her breasts felt heavy. Her nipples tightened into aching buds. Malera tore her thoughts from the man.
She poured the white fyrestones into a golden dish and added a handful from a box on the curved table across from the circle. Of all the temple crystals, only the whites and the stones held by the oldest priestesses, had survived Ria’s rebellion. Malera claimed the whites as her own to be used as items to be traded to the slavers when there was a need for new males for the harras or girls as priestesses. Not these stones. These whites were hers. She would call a gem setter to fashion a girdle for her hips to match the broad collar necklace. On Solstice Day when the stone seeker arrived ripe with desire for her and tore the caftan from her body, the necklace and girdle would be revealed. She shivered with anticipation for the fulfillment to come.
Gathering her rampaging thoughts and emotions into a coil, she placed the yellow and orange crystals in the depressions. The extras were placed on the table to be claimed by the other priestesses. ‘Twas not enough for a full circle, but these were enough to light the solstice fire. Other seekers were due to arrive before the day of the ritual. If the fates were kind, those men would have fyrestones to sell.
Malera left the inner chamber and entered the hall leading to her suite. Her body pulsed with the desire to call the flames. She had to subdue that urge. She dare not lose control before the solstice. On that day, her full powers were essential for the change she intended to make in the ceremony. She parted the beaded curtain and stepped into the receiving room.
Her maidservant leaped to her feet. “Mistress, what is your wish?”
“A bath.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Before you draw the water, bring me a matched pair from the harras and fetch wine and honeyed dates.”
The maid bowed her head. “All will be as you wish. What scent for the bath?”
Malera pursed her lips. Musk would enhance her lust and she would spend all her passion on tame studs instead of waiting for the stone seeker. Thoughts of his muscled body and sun-tanned skin brought her desire to life. She needed a calming scent. “Lavender. After I’ve bathed, have a gem setter attend me.”
The woman left. Malera removed the scarlet silk caftan and dropped it on the floor. Not for her the cotton, linen, or find woolen cloth, worn by the other priestesses. Only the softest fabric ever touched her skin.
She opened the window shutters. The afternoon breeze wafted the scent of roses and honeysuckle into the chamber. The air caressed her skin. She closed her eyes and imagined the soft touches belonged to the stone seeker. Her nipples peaked. She pressed her hands against them and rubbed.
“Mistress,” the maidservant said. “The bath is prepared and the studs await.”
How long had she drifted in a fantasy? Malera turned. Two males knelt with their foreheads pressed against the floor. Their long golden hair pleased her. She stroked their buttocks. “Rise. Come and bathe me.” When they stood, she smiled. Though not as muscular as the man she craved, their rods were erect and ready for her hands and mouth. And her body wanted theirs.
* * *
Ria woke in a panic. She hadn’t meant to sleep. Had she merely drifted off, or had she slept for long hours? She looked up. The sun neared the horizon. She rubbed her eyes and peered through the gap in the fyrethorn hedge. A sigh of relief escaped. She hadn’t missed the stone seeker.
He stood in the rotunda doorway. Had he sold all the fyrestones he’d brought? A foolish question considering how she’d destroyed the stones in the circle. Maybe he could tell her where to find the crystals. She would welcome the chance to possess even a white. Some of the commoners could use that color. She’d seen her mother light candles and fires with a pale fyrestone.
As the man strode past her hiding place, she heard the clink of coins in the pouch dangling from his belt. Her hopes faded. He’d sold them all.
When he drew even with the gap, she pushed to her feet. Her body swayed and she gulped deep breaths. How had Malera missed one of the fyrestones? Ria felt a powerful pull from a crystal. Surely ‘twas a scarlet. She slithered through the narrow opening in the hedge and hobbled after the man. She would have that stone and she would call fire again.
Once she had the stone, where could she go? The temple was no place for one who had rebelled against the chief priestess. Ria knew she couldn’t allow Malera to control her actions. Thoughts of using a stone to harm the innocent made Ria feel ill. During the confrontation, she had learned the truth about her betrothed’s death. Though she hadn’t wanted to marry him, his death had been a murder. Was there a way to avenge him and the deaths of others the ch
ief priestess had killed? Could Malera be defeated?
The stone seeker reached the market square where people thronged. She tried to keep pace with him while skirting the clusters of people who moved in erratic patterns. Her body ached. She felt as if the flames she had called were lodged beneath her skin.
The babble of voices and the shifting patterns of the brightly colored clothes made her dizzy. She gulped deep breaths laden with perfumes and spices. She halted and frantically scanned the crowd. Her quarry had vanished. A sense of desperation filled her. She had to find him and the fyrestone he carried.
A tremor spread along her body. She shook. She fisted her hands and fought the darkness threatening to swallow her. She couldn’t succumb to the convulsions that occurred when a priestess lost her crystal. For some, death occurred.
When she saw the stone seeker near a seller of ale, she nearly collapsed as relief swept through her body. He drank the liquid in several gulps. She tried to swallow, but her mouth and throat were dry. Hunger pangs stabbed her gut. The sun slid over the horizon and the sky grayed. Men with long sticks lit the torches near the stalls and around the periphery of the square.
Ria pulled a small knife from the sleeve pocket of her tattered caftan. Had the blade been a gift? Did the acolyte know she had dropped it? ‘Twould serve now. Ria crept toward the stone seeker. Surely the fyrestone was in the pouch with the coins. She didn’t care about the money, just the crystal. She had called fire from a scarlet. To be without a stone could mean her death and she was determined to live.
He headed toward a lane where a number of inns and pleasure houses stood. Once he left the square, her chance to steal the stone and vanish into the milling crowd lessened. She moved closer, reached for the pouch and slashed. He wheeled and grabbed her arm.
“A thief.” He glared. “Who beat you, boy? Is your master heartless?”
How would he act when he learned she was a woman? Ria stared at the ground. Her legs trembled. How could she answer? If he learned her identity, he would take her to Malera.
“Nothing to say? Shall I call the alders?”
She shook her head. “No, please.” Fear caused her voice to crack. If he brought her before the hamlet leaders, she would be sent to one of the pleasure houses to earn her fine. Unless she was recognized and returned to the temple.
Fear, fever, and hunger joined. Her body shook. His face blurred and she collapsed.
* * *
As the boy collapsed, Ari caught him. He hadn’t meant to frighten the lad, but the sight of the dried blood on the back of the caftan had stirred anger. Though Ari had never lived on the streets, he could imagine the youth’s terror. Ari thanked the fates for his good fortune. When the pair of old men had rescued and brought him to Rosti, there’d been no talk of selling him to the slavers. Instead, he’d become their apprentice.
When he lifted the boy, Ari noticed the lad’s delicate features. He clenched his teeth. If he went to the alders, the youth would spend years in a house where he’d be used by men and women for their pleasure. Ari shook his head. He wouldn’t subject the boy to that fate. Instead, he would offer the lad the same choice as he’d been given.
The lad’s skin felt as though coals burned beneath the surface. Some of the scratches on his arms had festered. With a rueful grin, Ari shrugged. He hadn’t expected to spend his first night after six lunars in the hills caring for a sick boy. How long before the youth could travel? Though Ari had planned to be away from Rosti before Solstice Day, he wouldn’t leave until the lad could travel. The fates had brought him an apprentice.
Ari carried the lad through a side entrance into the inn. As he passed the doorway to the common room, he glanced inside. The innkeeper stood behind the bar filling mugs with ale. He was too busy to notice the presence of his guest. Ari reached the room and slipped inside. He placed the boy on the bench beneath the window. The lad’s face was flushed. Alarmed by the fiery skin, Ari leaned closer. The youth’s breathing sounded normal.
After secreting most of the coins in his haversack, Ari mentally listed the things he needed to treat the boy’s wounds and fever. He strode to the common room and paused at the bar. “Innkeeper, do you have a servant who can go to the market for me? There are some things I need.”
The man waved to a younger version of himself. “My son will do what you want.”
Ari drew the young man away from the noise-filled room. He handed him three silver and one copper coin. “The copper’s yours. There’ll be another when you return. Buy two caftans, one large and one a bit smaller than your size. Purchase bathing soap and these herbs.” He listed them and listened while the innkeeper’s son recited the list.
Ari returned to his rented room. He used the fyrestone to light the kindling beneath the drum of water. He paused to check his guest. The boy’s soft snores made Ari smile. Perhaps the lad wasn’t as ill as he seemed. Ari paced the room. There was nothing he could do until the innkeeper’s son returned.
A tap on the door and the appearance of the young man was welcome. Ari stepped into the hall and took the package and change. “In two hours, I’d like a hearty meal. The roast and all the trimmings, broth, barley water, a pitcher of ale and a demi of spiritus.”
The young man’s eyes narrowed. “Barley water’s used for mixing medicines. My pa won’t like you bringing illness to the inn.”
“No illness. Just some cuts and blisters to treat.”
When he closed the door, Ari slid the bar into place. Until the boy was bathed and his wounds treated, Ari wanted no one barging into the room. He hung the caftans on hooks and placed the supplies on the table. He checked the lad and found him still asleep. Ari pulled off his boots and stripped. He dropped the clothes in the hall to be added to the ones the laundress would wash. Until his clothes were returned, the caftan was all he had to wear. He sprinkled the fleabane on the bedding. The mint-scented herb would kill any pests. There was enough left in the packet to disinfest his and the boy’s hair.
Ari took the soap and fleabane into the bathing room. He filled the tub with steaming water and turned the valve to refill the tank. Before stepping into the bath, he lathered his face and used his knife to shave his beard. With a groan of pleasure, he sank into the tub. After scrubbing his body, he soaped his hair and massaged the herb into the shoulder-length mass. Once rinsed and dried, he emptied the tub and refilled it. Time to bathe the lad and see to those wounds. He left the bathing room and looked at the wide bed where he’d planned to spend the night with a willing woman. His gaze settled on his unexpected guest. The rescue had been impulsive, but his past had left him with little choice. Just as the aging stone seekers had offered a rescue from the slavers’ pens, he would aid the boy.
He reached for the caftan and changed his mind. Since the robe was all he had to wear until morning when the laundry arrived, he preferred not to dine in a soggy caftan. He wrapped a towel around his waist and hips.
* * *
Ria bit her lip to keep from crying out. Where was she? How long had she slept? Had the giant flame she’d raised invaded her body? Memories flashed in a confusing kaleidoscope of sights and sounds. The stone seeker. Malera. Carrion crows. The stoning. The pulsing of a fyrestone. Cautiously, she ran her hands over the hard surface beneath her. The texture of polished wood added to her confusion.
She turned her head and opened her eyes a slit. She swallowed a startled gasp. The stone seeker was here. He wore nothing but a towel over his hips. As he moved about the room, she watched. He glided like one of the spotted jaguas that sometimes wandered from the hills to the plains. His broad shoulders and muscular legs gave the impression of strength and power.
He turned toward her. The sizzle of heat storming her body felt different from the fever fire. His broad chest bore a mat of auburn hair that arrowed down his abdomen and disappeared beneath the towel. Why had he chosen to become a stone seeker when he could have found a place in the retinue of a merchant? He could have become a temple guard or found
a life of ease in the harras.
He reached the bench. She held in a cry of alarm. He held a knife. Had he brought her to this place to kill her? That made no sense, but her fevered thoughts found no other answer. He slid his arm beneath her shoulders and lifted her into a sitting position. A stab of pain made her cry out.
“Don’t be afraid, lad. Your hair is matted. I’ve no patience for freeing the tangles. I’ll cut away the worst. Tomorrow, I’ll trim it properly. Let me do your hair, then remove your rags and bathe you.”
Ria wanted to push him away, but she was too weak. When she tried to speak, only a croaking sound emerged. What would he do when he learned she wasn’t a boy? Frightening images appeared in her thoughts.
He straddled the bench behind her. Clumps of hair fell on the floor. “Once you’ve had a dose of feverfage, you should sleep while I clean your wounds. In the morning, I’ll buy clothes for you. I’ll train you as a stone seeker. Don’t worry about your master finding us. We’ll be away from Rosti before the solstice.”
Ria felt hope blossom. He would help her escape Rosti and teach her how to find fyrestones. She would have a scarlet and gain mastery of the flames. Once she felt confident about her ability, she would return and destroy Malera. She bit her lip. When he learned who she was, would he continue to help her? What if he was a man who preferred boys? Would he force her from the inn, call the alders or drag her to the temple? Without a crystal, she was helpless.
“Lad, I promise not to harm you, or allow others to harm you.”
His rumbling voice soothed her fears. Dare she trust him to keep that promise when he learned the truth?
He rose and lifted her to her feet. When he turned her to face him, she saw the scarlet stone suspended in a copper cage from a necklace of copper links. She grasped the crystal. Energy flooded her body. He yelped and pushed her away. The caftan tore. The change in his expression told her he knew she was a woman.
Temple of Fyre (Island of Fyre) Page 3
