Crystal Warrior: Through All Eternity (Atlantean Crystal Saga Book 1)

by YatesNZ, Jen

  ‘Leave them,’ she whimpered. ‘Oh Cronos! Just fill me!’

  The words were scarcely said when he bore her down to the grass and complied with her plea. With the first thrust Gynevra was sobbing her joy to the heavens, to the Gods, to Taur. Her nails scored her passion into his flesh and his flesh scored his passion into her woman's soul and his voice joined hers in a paean of savage joy. Long after the passion was spent Gynevra sobbed softly into the dark mat of hair on his chest and clung to him as if she would never let him go.

  ‘Alara, I'm not going anywhere,’ he murmured into the wind-whipped tangle of her hair.

  Gynevra hiccupped an attempt at a laugh and loosened her grip.

  ‘My heart hurts—like—it's not big enough for everything I feel. I've missed this.’

  Cupping her face with his hands, Taur gently brushed her tears aside with his thumbs. Then reaching for a handful of blossom, he sprinkled it in her hair before touching his lips to her eyelids.

  ‘No one, no woman I've ever known, can take me where you do. Why is that do you think?’

  Gynevra's lip trembled and opening her eyes, she touched a finger to his lips.

  ‘I guess you'll figure it out some day,’ she whispered.

  He considered her thoughtfully, then nodded slowly.

  ‘I hope so.—Do you want to try the spa now?’

  ‘There's truly a spa here?’

  ‘There are several round the rim of the harbor. Zephra's is one of the smaller ones but it's my favorite. It's a sheltered valley and the steam from the springs creates an almost tropical climate. They can grow bananas and pineapple here and other exotic fruits. Only in small quantities of course so they command high prices for their produce. Come.’

  Rising, he offered his hand and gathering up their clothes, they strolled through the gardens, taking more notice of the vibrant colors and the sensuous tropical scents.

  Suddenly Gynevra frowned and asked, ‘With all these gardens here, there must be people. Where are they?’

  ‘Gone—by order of the King so we could have the place to ourselves,’ Taur answered with a smug grin. ‘I had no intention of sharing this time with anyone!’

  ‘Oh the power of being a King!’ she teased, and they grinned happily at one another.

  There was a series of spas carved into the side of the hill and planted all about with gold lilies, their perfume a sensual bouquet on the air. Testing the waters at every level, they settled at last for one Gynevra declared to be just the right temperature. Dropping her gowns on a nearby stone seat she hastily wound her hair into a knot on top of her head. Sliding ecstatically into the water she turned to look for Taur, who was sitting on the seat pulling off his boots.

  ‘Kurning with your boots on is qongé, but swimming isn't!’ he declared stridently before leaping into the pool with a great splash which made her scream.

  ‘You great oaf!’ she scolded laughingly. ‘We've got no drying linens and it's a long way to ride with wet hair.’

  Taur grinned, brushed his own hair back from his face, took her in his arms and declared, ‘There's only one thing to do with a woman who talks too much.’

  Their mouths came together as instinctively as their bodies. It was a precious time away from the cares of the Court, a time of caressing, of murmuring inane nothings, of gentle silence listening to the song of the nectar-eating birds darting among the flowers. They made love again on the soft moss beside the pool, this time more slowly, savoring every sensation, every feeling and thought, every moment, of this blessed time of concentration only on each other.

  The afternoon was well advanced when Gynevra murmured an anxious thought of Ugo. Reluctantly Taur agreed it was time to return, realizing he'd still not achieved what he'd really wanted from this day.

  When they were dressed, he said, ‘There's something you should see before we leave.’

  The carefully tended path followed the base of a cliff, down which a variation of flowering creepers trailed in colorful abundance, and then climbed steeply back up the side of the valley. At the top, built out over a sheer rocky drop, was a pure white marble gazebo. In the center was a likeness of the Goddess Ist, beautifully carved from polished lapis lazuli and mounted on a clear quartz pedestal.

  Gynevra stepped forward, eyes shining, hands out-stretched.

  ‘T’is Ist in her aspect as Goddess of Love,’ she murmured, and dropped to her knees with her hands on the perfectly sculpted feet. Head bowed, she made silent obeisance to the deity represented by the statue then rose and turned to thank him for bringing her there.

  Taur was having trouble drawing breath. His heart thumped in his chest with a greater terror than any he'd felt before a battle or when faced with any form of danger.

  What if she still refused him? Taking her hands, he stood for a moment tongue-tied, a phenomenon he hoped they would laugh about together later, for it was very unusual. Long, wispy curls of gold had escaped the wobbly knot of hair she'd tied on top of her head and the tendrils at the back of her neck were a damp caress against her skin. She had the bloom of love, which on her always reminded him of apricots. She was so beautiful he became even more choked, and almost without thought, his legs buckled and he was on his knees before her.

  Her hands were still in his and she looked down at him, her startled eyes golden bright as polished topaz.

  ‘Gynevra, I love you. Please will you join with me and be my true sacred partner, my true Queen?’ he blurted, for it would come no other way.

  He saw the emotion, felt it rush through her body and thought she would cry. But drawing a deep breath she slowly dropped to her knees before him. Kneeling, they faced one another and clasped hands before the Goddess.

  There was a sheen of moisture and a glow of absolute wonder in her eyes and it was several moments before she could form words. Taur found he himself could say no more either, for the emotion that filled him. This issue had become too important to him. He didn't dare think of failure.

  Then she whispered hoarsely, hesitantly, ‘You—love me?’

  He nodded.

  ‘I love you,’ he said, savoring those amazing three words again and beginning to wonder at what so many people were missing by denying this joy in their lives.

  Love was the most amazingly empowering feeling. He could conquer the world for love of this woman, and the son she'd given him. Love gave him purpose and strength. It was overwhelming.

  Then to his consternation a deep sadness washed over Gynevra's face and he thought his heart would break.

  Lowering her eyes to their joined hands, she said, her voice little more than a choked whisper, ‘I love you more than I can ever explain and—because of this I can't bear to watch you with other women. If I join with you, then—legally I must do so if you continue to accept contracts. I could be punished for turning my back on that.’

  Then her chin dropped to her chest in shame as she admitted, her voice ragged with emotion, ‘I'm sorry, I can't do it. I'd not be accountable for my actions.—I'd scratch, and strangle, and kill.’

  Jasmine scented the breeze cooling their cheeks and the perfume would forever remind Taur of this moment, the moment he finally understood what was most important in his life. It was startlingly simple after all.

  ‘Then I'll accept no more contracts.’

  She lifted her head and searched his eyes, her own wide and uncertain. Then slowly the tears gathered and spilled down her cheeks and her mouth curved into a tremulous smile.

  ‘May the Goddess forgive me,’ she whispered through her tears, ‘but I cannot deny you.’

  In the days that followed she spent many hours seeking forgiveness from the Goddess for the sin of pledging herself to Taur when she knew she had to leave him if she ever found a way. Yet she could not turn her back on the gift he offered nor deny him her pledge in turn.

  Flesh melted from her bones and the King ordered ever more delectable dishes from the Castle bake-house to tempt her. The bright sheen of bronze fad
ed from her hair and Difleer took to rinsing it in an infusion of marigold petals and beech leaves. Her eyes, bright with a feverish joy, were ringed with darkness. As the designated day of their sacred joining drew near, vitality seemed to desert her entirely.

  The fiery joy that had lit Taur's eyes on his return from Zephra's Spa was fading too, along with the boundless energy with which he'd arranged the details of Nyalda's first royal joining for nearly forty years. Gynevra was often aware of his troubled gaze on her and was grateful the elaborate celebrations he was planning along with his busy schedule of state duties kept him from concentrating too closely upon her.

  Had things been normal Difleer might have rousted her mistress with her droll but plain speaking, but the housekeeper was floating in a small rosy cloud of her own. For the first time in her life she was considering pledging her troth to one man and the notion was strangely appealing and frightening all at once. So engrossed was she, airing all her thoughts on the matter and the intimate details of her courtship by Bagos who managed the King’s stable, she scarcely noticed her mistress's declining spirits.

  It was Lady Nudon who finally voiced what others only whispered behind their hands.

  ‘Are you not delighted my son makes like a clod in declaring to all who will listen that he loves you and that to love a woman is a wondrous thing? Are you not honored he threatened to fight Lord Davidod for suggesting you had cast an evil spell upon him? Is this how you repay him? By looking as if you’re approaching your execution?’

  Nudon had come to the King's apartments with the baby whom she'd had out on a thick woolen rug in a sunny corner of the Emerald Pavilion. He'd become fractious and, returning him to his nurse, she'd found Gynevra, who’d excused herself from the Court on the pretext of going to the Temple, huddled in a corner of the vast window embrasure overlooking the harbor.

  With the child as a catalyst the older woman had become as friendly and caring as she'd originally been hostile and Gynevra had begun to discover and value the deep fund of wisdom Nudon hid behind a loud hectoring manner and complaints of negligence of her welfare. Hugging her knees close to her chin, Gynevra glared sullenly at the old Queen now, resentful of this sudden attack.

  Nudon stood for a moment, hands on hips and the old belligerent expression on her carefully painted face. Just as Gynevra began to wonder what she'd done to occasion the return of the resentful woman she'd first met, Nudon sighed heavily and dropped to the window seat beside her.

  ‘What is it that bothers you, child?’ she asked gently, her face sagging into lines of concern.

  Child? To her consternation, Gynevra felt tears welling inside her. It had been so long since anyone had called her ‘child’. Almost overwhelmed by the need to cast herself into Nudon's matronly arms, she hugged her knees tighter and fought back the threatening tears. Queens weren’t supposed to cry. And she no longer had the excuse of being pregnant.

  ‘Do you not wish to join with my son?’

  ‘More than anything,’ Gynevra managed to whisper huskily.

  ‘Then why,’ asked Nudon, her face wrinkled with perplexity, ‘do you look as if you've been condemned to death on the altar? People are beginning to talk and laugh at Taur when they think I'm not around but when you were Queen as long as I was you become very clever at hearing while not appearing to listen. It’s bad enough that they call my son `clod' but now they're starting to whisper that he's lost his mind. It's dangerous for a King to lose the respect of his people, Gyn'a. More than anything now he needs the support of your radiant happiness and obvious joy in his love and the sacrifice he makes of himself in declaring it so publicly.’

  Staring at Nudon, Gynevra felt her eyes widen as realization overcame her. She'd allowed herself to become almost paralyzed with fear of the consequences of perjuring herself before the Goddess.

  ‘I've been so afraid—and by my very fear I've created that very thing of which I am afraid! I've created my own punishment!’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Movuon, thank you for making me see what I'm doing. What a fool I am! The Goddess gives us what we seek for ourselves. Is that not so?’

  Gynevra leapt restlessly to her feet and began pacing about the huge room. Then suddenly she turned, swooped and hugged the older woman who strove ineffectively to conceal her flush of delight.

  ‘Thank you, Movuon, for showing me how I must be.—Difleer!’ she called, tapping a small copper gong on the wall, ‘I will have a bath and massage and I wish to look exceptionally beautiful for the King tonight.’

  Eyebrows dancing high on her forehead, Difleer popped her head through the door curtain, and said dourly, ‘The King'd think you beautiful in reed-wraps and herding clogs. What's the fuss?’

  ‘I love him, Diffie, and all the world shall know it.’

  The housekeeper stilled for a moment, then swept into the room, dropping to her knees before her mistress and looking up at her with dancing eyes.

  ‘Well now, Lady, ain't that the most amazin' news I've heard in years!’ she declared.

  ‘Oh get up, Diffie, and don't be such an ass.’

  As Gynevra led the way to the bathing cavern, Difleer prancing comically in her wake, Nudon sat muttering about the folly of being over-familiar with the servitors.

  The Sacred Joining of King Cadal Isidor II of Nyalda and Princess Gynevra of Poseidonia took place on summer solstice of the twenty-fourth year of the King's reign. He'd come to his throne at age ten in the same year she'd been born but it was only really since kidnapping her and separating Nyalda from Atlantis that he'd become King in fact. In those years the boy had become a warrior, a priest, a statesman, and a contract sire unparalleled. Now also was he a father and about to become a sacred partner but more than that, he was becoming the spiritual leader of his people.

  The sun hadn't risen yet on this mid-summer day, when Gynevra rolled across the bed to lie on the warmth Taur's body had created and smile serenely into the darkness. She knew, in the ‘knowing’ place in her heart, this day marked a crossroads for Nyalda. It was a day when many would choose a new road, see a new vision of old values, pledge fealty to their King and his dream for their future. As with all times of change there would be those who could not, or would not move out of the old energy into the new, those who would strive to turn back or disrupt, and those who would move on.

  For tonni the weather patterns had been presaging this time of change. All were aware of it and were becoming anxious, restless to move into whatever was coming. Gynevra felt the restlessness within herself, knew Taur felt it too.

  It was only a few breaths since he'd left to make his way to Temple Zedalin to perform the Dawn Ritual. When she judged he was safely out of the apartments she leapt out of bed, calling for her housemaid. After a hasty bath Difleer brushed out her hair and helped her into a plain priestess gown tied with the ennead belt. Entering the King's Private Fane, accessible to her now Merwin's Crystal no longer resided there, she sat down on the soft-cushioned copper meditation chair, closed her eyes and immediately began entering the deep trance state prior to apportation.

  The King was just arriving by reica at Temple Zedalin when the Queen materialized beside the Sacred Pool where Archinus Varia and High Priestess Cielcif awaited her. It had cost her dearly in jewels and gifts to the Temple to convince Varia to let her be Adonai for the Dawn Ritual on summer solstice but she counted it money well-spent. On this day she, Gynevra of Poseidonia, would be the only woman with whom King Cadal Isidor would join.

  By the time she entered the Holy of Holies at Zedalin by the Goddess Door her heart was dancing with excitement, blood coursing through her veins like a torrent through a canyon. The Goddess energy was with her, strong and pure, her body pulsing to the beat of the Earth, which she represented. Because this rite was performed within the sanctity of the Holy of Holies, the Goddess was tethered to the altar on her back. The God of the Dawn, the Sun God wearing the golden solar disc on his head, would cover her body entirely with his, symbolizing new life and a new day on
the Earth.

  Varia and Cielcif took their places either side of her head and began the welcome chant to the God of the Dawn. From beyond the God Door opposite the foot of the altar, priestly voices joined them.

  ‘Hail God of the Dawn

  Bringer of Life to the Earth’

  Gynevra thought her heart would leap from her chest with joy as he entered, stood at her feet and looked into her eyes.

  What joy is this, Golden One! To find you thus on this morn takes my breath away.

  Save enough to do what must be done, great God of the Dawn! This Goddess of the Earth is thirsty for your light.

  His smile was bright and for her alone.

  That I can promise, my Golden Goddess.

  One of the priests made the invocation to the Great God of All Life to bless the ritual awakening of the Earth. Another lit the sacred flame and poured water from a golden jug into the sacred crystal cup and called on the Gods of Fire and Water to bless the Earth this day. Cielcif placed a handful of small gemstones in a carved wooden bowl and briefly fanned the air with a small, curved peacock feather before laying it beside the other symbols and calling on the Gods of Earth and Air to bless the Earth this day.

  Now the four slowly raised their hands and moved back to the four corners of the room to raise the pyramid energy over the Gods on the altar. As the energy took form above them Varia began to chant in her pure, deep alto the invocation to raise the Sun God for the new day.

  ‘Come to me, God of a trillion stars, God of a million fires. Pour your light into my sacred vessel.’

  The plea of the Goddess to her God was strong and clear from mind to mind but he must await the completion of the invocation which would only come when Varia was certain the God had ‘risen’ sufficiently to pour his light into the Earth.