“My bedroom is next door,” she whispered, her lips brushing his.
“This is wrong,” Lleu said, yet he could not tear himself from her.
Mina put her arms around him, pressed her body against his. “This is life,” she said to him.
She drew him into her bedchamber.
Their passion lasted all through the night. They loved and slept and woke to love again. Lleu had never known love-making such as this, never known such transports of joy. He had never felt so much alive and he wanted his feeling to last forever. He fell asleep in her arms, that thought in his mind. He woke to the dawn—spring dawning. He found Mina beside him, propped up on one elbow, gazing down at him, her hand running gently through his hair on his chest.
He raised up to kiss her, but she drew back.
“What of Chemosh?” Mina asked. “Have you thought of all I have been telling you?”
“You are right, Mina. It does make sense that a god would want his followers to live forever,” Lleu admitted, “but what must I do to obtain this blessing? I’ve heard tales of blood sacrifices and other rites—”
Mina smiled at him. She ran her hand over his bare flesh. “That is what they are—only tales. All you have to do is give yourself to the god. Say, ‘I pledge my faith to Chemosh.’ “
“That is all?”
“That is all. You may even return to the worship of Kiri-Jolith, if you want. Chemosh is not jealous. He is understanding.”
“And I will live forever? And love you forever?” He stole a swift kiss.
“From this day, you will not age,” Mina promised. “You will never suffer pain or know hunger or fall ill. This I promise you.”
“Then I have nothing to lose.” Lleu smiled up at her. “I pledge my faith to Chemosh.”
He put his arm around her, drew her down to him. Mina pressed her lips against his breast, above his heart. He shivered in delight, then his body shuddered.
His eyes flew open. Pain seared through him, terrible pain, and he stared at her in horror. He struggled, tried to free himself, but she held him pinned down, her kiss sucking out his life. His heart thudded erratically. Her lips seemed to feed off it. Pain wrenched and twisted him. He gave a stifled cry and clutched at her spasmodically. He writhed in agony. His heart stopped, then everything stopped.
Lieu’s head lay rigid on the pillow. His eyes stared at nothing. His face was frozen in an expression of unnamed horror. Chemosh stood beside the bed.
“My lord,” said Mina. “I bring you your first follower.”
“Well done, Mina,” he said. Bending down, leaning across the body of the young man, he kissed her on the lips. His hand caressed her neck, smoothed her hair. “Well done.”
She drew away from him, covering her nakedness with her gown.
“What is it, Mina?” he asked. “What is the matter? You’ve killed before, in the name of Takhisis. Are you now turned suddenly squeamish?”
Mina glanced at the corpse of the young man. “You promised him life, not death.” She looked up at Chemosh and her amber eyes were shadowed. “You promised me power over life and death, my lord. If I wanted merely to commit murder, I could go to any dark alley—”
“You have no faith in me, Mina?”
Mina was silent a moment, gathering her courage. She knew he might be furious with her, but she had to take the risk.
“A god betrayed me once. You asked me to prove myself to you. It is now your turn to prove yourself to me, my lord.”
She waited, tensely, for his rage to break over her. He said nothing, and after a moment, she dared look up at him. He was smiling down on her. “As I told you, Mina. You will not be my slave. I will prove myself to you. You will have what I promised. Put your hand on the young man’s heart.”
Mina did as he told her. She placed her hand on the cooling flesh, over the burst heart, over the imprint of her lips, burned black into the flesh.
“The heart will never beat again,” Chemosh intoned, “but life will flow through this body. My life. Endless life. Kiss him, Mina.”
Mina placed her lips on the burned imprint of her kiss. The heart of the young man remained still, but he drew in a deep breath, the breath of the god. At Mina’s touch, his chest rose and fell.
“All will be as I promised him, Mina. He cannot die, for he is already dead. His life will go on unending. I ask only one thing of him in return. He must bring me more followers. There, my love, have I proven myself to you?”
Mina looked at Lleu, who was stirring, stretching, waking. The knowledge came to her that she had not only taken life, she had restored it. She had the power to give everyone in the world life unending. Her power … and that of the god.
She reached out her hand to Chemosh, who clasped her hand in his own. “We will change the world, my lord!”
She had only one question, one lingering doubt. She placed her hand over her own breast, where the mark of Chemosh was black on her white skin. “My lord, my heart still beats. My blood is still warm and so is my flesh. You did not take my life—”
Chemosh did not tell her that it was her life that he loved about her. Her warm, beating heart, her hot, pulsing blood. Nor did he tell her that the gift of unending life she was bestowing on these mortals was not as bright and shiny as it appeared on the surface. He could have given it to her, but then he would lose her and he was not ready to give her up. Not yet. Perhaps, some day, when he had grown weary of her.
“I am surrounded by the dead, Mina,” he said, by way of excuse. “Day in, day out. Like that fool Krell, who will not leave me in peace, but is constantly pestering me. You are a ‘breath of life’ for me, Mina.”
He laughed at his jest, gave Mina a parting kiss, and was gone.
Mina slipped out of the bed. She picked up a comb and ran the comb through her tangled hair, began to slowly and carefully work out the knots.
She heard a rustle behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Lleu sitting up amid the bed clothes. He looked confused and clutched at his heart, wincing as if in remembered pain.
Mina watched him, and combed her hair.
Lieu’s expression cleared. His eyes widened. He looked around again, as if seeing everything anew. He climbed out of bed, walked over to her, bent down and kissed her neck.
“Thank you, Mina,” he said fervently.
He wanted to make love. to her again. He tried to kiss her. Laying down the comb, she turned to face him and put aside his seeking hands.
“Not me, Lleu,” she said. “Others.”
She looked into his eyes that were bright and alert, no longer wondering, no longer restless. She traced a finger over the kiss burned into his skin. “Do you understand?”
“I understand. And I thank you for this gift.”
Lleu caught hold of her hand, kissed it. His skin felt cool to the touch. Not deathly chill, but cooler than usual, as if he’d come from some chill place such as a shaded grove or a cavern. In all other respects, he appeared normal.
““Will I see you again, Mina?” he asked eagerly, as he dressed himself in the robes of a cleric of Kiri-Jolith.
“Perhaps,” Mina answered, shrugging. “Do not count upon it. I have my duty to Chemosh, as do you.”
He frowned, disappointed. “Mina …”
She kept her back to him. Her fingernails tapped impatiently. “Praise Chemosh,” he said, after a moment, and went on his way.
She heard his boots clatter on the stairs, heard him give the innkeeper a boisterous greeting.
Mina picked up the comb and began to patiently ease the tangles from her auburn hair. Chemosh’s words lingered with her, as did his kiss.
He had promised her power over life and death and he had fulfilled his promise. He had kept faith with her.
“Praise Chemosh,” she said softly.
3
Rhys sat amid the tall grass at the bottom of the hill, his staff cradled loosely in his arms, his thoughts drifting skyward, up where the white clouds scudded across the clear blue sky. Spread out on the hill above him, the sheep placidly grazed. Grasshoppers buzzed in the grass around him. Butterflies fluttered from buttercup to buttercup. Rhys sat so still that occasionally the butterflies landed on him, fooled by the burnt-orange color of his home-spun robes.