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

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Crystal Warrior: Through All Eternity (Atlantean Crystal Saga Book 1) Page 48

by YatesNZ, Jen


  ‘How will you accomplish that?’ Gynevra asked, looking a little startled and a mite apprehensive.

  Taur chuckled.

  ‘When the Rafid takes the Adonai in the Solstice Joining of the Gods this night, they shall know once and for all their King is the King of Oafs! Prepare for a long night on the altar, alara, not just the one customary joining for Solstice Ritual.’

  Gynevra's eyes went wide, then she smiled a slow, burning smile, and touched a finger to his mouth.

  Gripping it in a firm hand, he said, ‘Don't look at me like that woman, or you'll not make it to the altar!’

  The thud of the bull-hide drum was resounding from the City Square and Taur turned to lead Gynevra out among his people. A vast terraced affair below the Temples and above the Halls of Justice, the Square was the setting for a huge banquet, which was as much to honor the top athletes of the day as it was for King and Queen. There were some set, white faces among the revelers but on the whole it was as Taur had said, Nyaldans understood about ‘time and place’ and what each was for. If they didn't, they had presumably gone home.

  As they were being seated in the golden chairs of honor with Cielcif and Dogon on Gynevra's right, Pog perched on the arm of the King's chair, and Lord Gamalon to his left, the populace burst into a song of reverence for their King, followed by a paean of praise for the bounty of the Earth. Then with much talking and laughter all began to partake of the plentiful food and Gynevra couldn't help wondering how the Poseidonians fared. Taur had offered help and food but her pavuon had turned it away, declaring he'd die before he'd accept help from finwodi. It seemed highly likely, if she were to return to Fyr Poseidyr now, she'd be turned over to the priests to be raped to death as a finwod. With a shudder she brought her mind back to the happy scenes before her and the man beside her whose joy was plain for all to see.

  Rustic and picturesque. Those were the words to describe Fyr Heceuda, she thought, as she watched a child feed a puppy from his plate and a sow with piglets afoot rootling about for tidbits dropped by careless diners. She tried to imagine such a scene in the formal grandeur of the Temple Plaza at Qrazil and failed woefully. Just about to share her thoughts with Taur, she was distracted by the approach of the Castle chef with one perfect loaf of crusty bread on a large wooden tray.

  As her eyes grew wider, he dipped his head in honor of her status, then laid the tray on the table before her.

  ‘For you, Great Lady, by order of the King,’ he said with a flourish and a bow, his eyes twinkling beneath bushy brows. ‘I would know if I 'ave the recipe right, in case Sire orders me to make it again.’

  ‘It's bread, Bono!’ Gynevra cried.

  Bread was not made in Nyalda.

  ‘Aye, Great Lady, 'tis,’ Bono agreed, his grin stretching wide at the Queen's delight. ‘I'd like to know the Queen's opinion of it, 'er bein' a loswodon of bread—so the King tells me.’

  ‘It looks—perfect,’ she whispered, her throat choking and her eyes filling with tears.

  Bono's expression was comical as he watched the Queen's face crumple. Dropping to his knees on the stone paving, he pleaded, ‘Please don't cry, Great Lady. The King never meant for to make you cry. No more did Bono!’

  Taur took Gynevra's face in his hands and carefully brushed her tears with a linen table napkin.

  ‘Never fear, Bono,’ he said, eyes dancing, ‘Poseidonians are a funny lot. They cry when they're happy and laugh when they're sad! I think you can safely accept the Queen is overcome by our little surprise.’

  Gynevra nodded vigorously to Bono who watched anxiously as the King broke the loaf in half, placing one piece on Gynevra's plate and the other on his own.

  ‘It looks perfect to me, Bono. Gyn'a, what do you think?’

  Gynevra broke off a piece of bread and put it in her mouth, suddenly hard pressed not to laugh at the anxiety with which Bono watched her every move.

  ‘It is perfect, Bono,’ she pronounced. ‘Absolutely delicious.’

  With a great sigh of relief the chef backed away from the table. When he was several paces distant, he turned and danced a few steps before vanishing into the crowd.

  Gynevra turned to Taur her lips trembling with mirth yet she knew herself still on the verge of crying with the joy this man made her feel.

  ‘This is my joining gift to you,’ he said before she could speak. ‘I know in Poseidonia it's considered to be the ‘stuff of life’. To me it's the symbol of the gift to me of yourself. To me you are the ‘stuff of life’. Let us eat together of the ‘stuff of life’.’

  Keeping enough to feed to each other and wash down with specially prepared glasses of nuptial nectar, they gave the rest to Pog to share out among their immediate party.

  The heat became more intense as the afternoon wore on. Gynevra felt sweat trickling down her back as she helped the City Governor award the prizes for the champions from the Solstice Games.

  ‘I wish I were a man and could wear nothing but a kirt,’ she grumbled enviously to Taur as she came back to her seat.

  ‘I'm very grateful you're not a man,’ he growled straight back. ‘It's time for us to repair to the Temples anyway. It'll be cooler there. I suspect the nuptial nectar was old Arlona's classic brew. I'm starting to feel immensely Godly and I think I detect a hint of the Goddess-glow on those apricot cheeks.’

  ‘It's just the heat,’ Gynevra denied, and Taur shook his head knowingly at her.

  For the brief few minutes from when the sun began to dip below the western mountains until it disappeared the people stilled whatever they were doing to watch the fiery descent and listen to the Evening Latreia from the sacred points about the city. Most took the elements for granted but on sacred ritual days all were reminded to give thanks for that which made life possible on the planet. As the light faded there was a scurry of activity to light the charcoal braziers about the square for with the heavy banks of cloud in the sky darkness would be complete in less than an hour.

  All sign of the banquet had been removed, the stones swept clean and priestesses were calling in the energy of the Divine with sacred dance from the four corners. Accompanied by priestly musicians on harp and tabor, the female citizens fell in behind the priestesses carrying the Adonai from Hecanil and the males followed the priests carrying the Rafid from Zedanil. The two lines began the Solstice Spiral dance, which would bring them to a gradual convergence at the altar in the center of the square.

  Apart from the street braziers, many men carried ilmenite torches and the scene was one of dancing brilliance. Dressed now only in the sheer gold Goddess-gown, Gynevra still felt warm in the unusually high heat and was glad she wasn't dancing with the throng below. Across the square, clad only in the sheer gold God-gown, Taur sat in the meditative posture on the carrying platform, his arousal clear for all to see. Her own was no less heated, just less obvious. Her nipples peaked tantalizingly against the gold net and heat coiled in her belly like a snake waiting to strike but what the people would see was an Adonai transcending her physical body to become the Goddess. She closed her eyes and opened her mind to the sacred energy.

  I am Asar, Sky Father. I swell with rains to water your fields.

  I am Ist, Earth Mother. I thirst.

  Asar comes. His arms yearn to hold you, his mouth longs to taste you, his plough is set to till your fields.

  Ist awaits you. Her soil is rich and ready for the plough. Her fields are dry and thirst for your rain.

  A great flash of light lit the sky from east to west. The spirals of dancers faltered briefly in alarm then moved on again with greater energy and excitement than before. Asar, Sky Father, would speak with an awesome resonance this night. Thunder rumbled to the south, tension in the air thickened.

  I am Asar. I have spoken. The fire burns. The tension builds. The God comes for his Goddess.

  So much heat coursed through her body Gynevra couldn't answer. All she could project was her consuming need.

  That's a very potent response, Golden One
. I'm thinking of whipping these sluggish steeds who carry us.

  Another flash of lightning lit the heavens and Gynevra felt the energy of it all down her spine.

  Asar, your fire is consuming me.

  A long, heavy rumble of thunder across the hills was her answer. She could wait no longer. Opening her eyes, she found Taur at her side and the two spirals of dancers about to leave them to fan out around the altar to come together and dance away to the fire-lit perimeter.

  Rafid and Adonai were lowered to the ground on their gilded litters and assisted to stand. As the people melted into the shadows Gynevra was conscious only of the altar before her draped in deep green silk and of Cielcif plying her with more nectar. Varia and Dogon raised the pyramid of sacred energy over her. Lifted high with two priests on either side and Varia and Cielcif at head and feet, the energy of the Goddess was called into her body. They laid her on her back on the altar, carefully draping the Goddess gown over the green silk. The only thought in her head was astonishment to find the surface beneath the silk soft and warm instead of the hard cold of stone, more evidence that the ‘primitive north’ was actually somewhat more advanced than the south.

  Stepping back, the four officiates built once again the pyramid of sacred energy over the Adonai, enlarging the base lines to include the Rafid who stood beyond the foot of the altar, facing the people. Feet astride, head thrown back and arms raised to the heavens in the classic Rafid attitude, the virile perfection of his body shimmered with a golden aura holding the people spellbound. There was none more Godly, more fit to rule than this man. No one could deny that.

  As Dogon began the invocation to call the energy of the God into this perfect earthly vehicle, lightning flashed from the heavens, striking flickering points of blue light from the gold net of the God-gown. The people started back, many falling to their knees at this visible sign of the Presence.

  Dogon never faltered. As if charged by the bolt from the skies, his voice became stronger, more vibrant, touching the soul-chords of every listener. None were in any doubt the Gods were indeed, among them. Turning to the sacred flame plinth, the Rafid threw the energy to ignite the holy oil and there were many to afterwards declare they saw lightning bolts leave his fingers. The very air above and around them crackled and when the priestesses removed the God-gown from him, sparks danced from the gold net.

  Gynevra, vision hazed by the coursing of the Goddess energy through her veins, knew this would be a Joining of the Gods like no other before or since. For the first time she truly appreciated the necessity for the silken grounding cords tethering the Adonai to the altar. Without them she could very well have floated into the ether in an ecstasy of Goddess-power and pure carnal need.

  Turning to face her, his body magnificently Godly, Taur locked her gaze with his and shouted for all to hear, ‘Goddess, prepare to receive your God!’

  Response was beyond Gynevra. Straining against the silken ropes, arching and inviting, she feared if he waited too much longer she'd set fire to the cloth beneath her. He gripped her thighs and fitted his God-rod to her Goddess-font, and lightning ripped the heavens open with a ferocity that made women scream and men cry out in fear.

  That the Gods joined in truth on the altar none doubted, for in the moment they raised their voices in united climax, the skies thundered mightily and rain fell in huge drops to sizzle and splutter on the braziers, extinguishing the fires in minutes.

  The rain was warm and heavy, steam rising from the paving stones to waft in mystic wreaths about the square. One by one people shed their wet clothes to dance naked by the light of the ilmenite torches. Many were drawn to emulate the Gods, joining in sacred ecstasy, channeling creative energy for the Earth, their Mother.

  Asar joined with Ist twice more before he allowed the priestesses to un-tether her and chant the closing invocations over them. Most of the citizens had already drifted away in search of warmth and dry clothes, taking with them the surety of being touched by the essence of the Gods this night.

  In the closeness of their bed very much later that night, Taur curled his body around Gynevra's. Burying his face in the silk of her hair, he murmured, ‘You have made me the happiest of men this day, Golden One. If I were to die this moment I would die content.’

  ‘Don't you dare talk of dying!’ Gynevra ordered sleepily. ‘We're going to have years of this happiness.’

  A deep chuckle rumbled up from Taur's chest.

  ‘You sound very sure of that, alara.’

  ‘How could we not, after the way the Gods spoke this night? None can say They didn't bless our Joining or endorse your abolition of the Breeding Flabria. Their presence was seen and heard and felt by all.’

  ‘Ta’a. There will be repercussions nevertheless.’

  ‘Nothing my King can't handle,’ Gynevra muttered with sleepy certainty, wriggling her buttocks to a more comfortable position against Taur's belly.

  ‘Mmm,’ he agreed, nibbling her neck and closing his fingers over a nipple. ‘King or Rafid, it's all the same to me with you in my arms.’

  Chapter 30

  The next two days Gynevra would always remember as one of the rare occasions they were just an ordinary family. That first day they woke late and Taur ordered Diffleer to bring food and the Prince. They had a picnic on the huge royal bed. Ugo gurgled happily and kicked his sturdy limbs and when he grew sleepy Qerlim snuggled about his chubby body and wolf and child slept together.

  When Lord Maden sent word he had need of the King, Taur sent Pog back to say he didn't wish to be disturbed unless Nyalda was in imminent danger of invasion from hostile forces. For today—and tomorrow—he would be an ordinary citizen with an ordinary citizen's concerns.

  And tomorrow. Gynevra hugged that promise to her heart as she curled in the serenity of Taur's arms while the Gods played out their sound and light drama across the hills in the dense heat of the evening once again. Without lifting her head from the pillow she could watch the great blue-white dance of fiery magic across the heavens and count the seconds before the Gods spoke with their awesomely thunderous voices.

  When Taur began to chivvy her out of bed in the morning she was inclined to pout.

  ‘I thought we were having today together too.’

  ‘We are,’ he promised, ‘but I can think of other places to kurn you besides bed!’

  ‘I note you don't say you can think of other things to do besides kurning me in bed!’ Gynevra teased.

  ‘And aren't you the lucky one?’ he tossed straight back, leaping to the floor and dragging her with him. Laughing like happy children, they ran together to the bathing cavern.

  By mid-morning Gynevra and Ugo along with his nurse and Foab, Pog and Qerlim, were ensconced among the silken cushions of one of the royal household carts with Taur at the reins. Attended by four guards on horseback they rode north from Castle Crags to the heads at the mouth of Heceuda Harbor.

  The sunshine was as bright and hot as Gynevra remembered it in Fyr Poseidyr and she was glad of the heavy linen canopy shading them from the fierce heat. The beach at the heads was a wide expanse of golden sand climbing up into extensive dunes covered in coarse, spiny grass. The guards, Pog, Foab and the young wolf were like children released from lessons, running, chasing one another, throwing sticks, and having floaking competitions.

  Gynevra was tempted to join them but with the nurse happily settled among the cushions of the cart with the baby, Taur suggested they take off their footwear and feel the sand beneath their feet. Walking hand in hand like rustic lovers, they picked up shells and pretty pebbles and danced in and out of the waves running up onto the beach. In a very short time they'd walked out of sight around the headland. Looking back there was only a slight indentation in the coastline to indicate the harbor entrance, and beyond that the ocean rolling away to the horizon.

  ‘What an amazing feeling!’ Gynevra whispered, turning about to savor the solitude. ‘Only us in all the world. I've never felt this alone before. It's almost
scary.’

  Chuckling, Taur drew her back against his chest and together they stood looking out to the horizon.

  ‘Not much of this kind of solitude in the Castle, that's for sure. Even now one of them only has to run round the corner of the beach and we'd be discovered.—Gyn’a, how would you like to spend the afternoon here with me—alone?’

  ‘Just us?’

  ‘Mmm. We could keep Sondon and Teronad's horses and they could take the cart home. What do you think?’

  Gynevra turned in his arms, her eyes shining.

  ‘We could bathe in the sea. Let's do it!’

  Running and teasing one another with a lightness they'd rarely felt, they came back to the cart, calling all the others together for the picnic meal Taur had ordered from the kitchens before they left. When all, even Qerlim, were lying back in the sand replete, Taur, his son asleep on his chest, announced his plan. The two guards quickly hid their dismay at having to give up their horses and helped gather everything back into the cart, leaving only a couple of large linen drying cloths and a small skin of water. As the cart drove off with Sondon, who'd lost the toss for driver, sitting morosely in the back, Gynevra and Taur lay back on the cloths pretending to sleep.

  After a few moments Taur murmured, ‘Gyn’a? D'you mind the time I first saw you?’

  ‘At your Sacred Joining with Phryne?’

  ‘Mmm, in the sacred pool, to be precise. I looked across at the Goddess and her handmaidens being stripped of their gowns and I should've had eyes only for Phryne of Gadeirus, a beautiful silver-gilt virgin with eyes of glowing aquamarine. Instead it was one of the handmaidens I wanted. Her hair rippled bronze-gold in the sunlight and her skin had the luscious golden bloom of a perfect apricot. I could smell apricots at twenty paces from you and I could taste them. You had a profound effect on this big Paggi oaf that day. I can still feel how the wanting punched into my gut—for you—only for you and the dismay at realizing I couldn't have you; that I must slake the incredible passion you ignited in me on another. I've often thought about that first joining and the sensation of having gone out of body with you. I've always wanted to know where we went, what we saw, what we did.’

 

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