“Jalav, the sole taking to be thought upon is that you are taken with falar,” said he, a faint heaviness having entered his tone. “When first I gave you my love you did indeed appear unwilling, yet was your body most willing. As you may see, mine is not the same, therefore must you, release me and put up that dagger.”
“I find little unwillingness in your body, male,” said I with a soft laugh, pressing my breasts to his chest as I kissed at the flesh beneath the hair. Red was that hair, like the hair upon his head though lighter, and had I been able to see him I would also have seen his sun-darkened skin, marked upon the left shoulder with the stroke in black which stood for Sigurr. At my kiss his great unwillingness stirred even more greatly, searching for the heat in which it might bask, and again I laughed. “For one who is unwilling, your rod seems uncommonly active,” said I.
“Never would I wish to see a rod used upon you, wench,” said he, growling softly. “A length of leather would suffice for your hiding, which shall be yours should you continue with this- Ahhh.”
The breath flew from him as I succeeded in his capture and then, slowly, settled myself upon him. The male was far too used to having females many times each fey, and was therefore not difficult to bring to rigidity. Ah, Mida! The pleasure a warrior may find in the presence of a male of strength! I hummed along with the motion of my hips, and Mehrayn’s great hands rose to my sides as he moaned.
“Perhaps-perhaps a brief time engaged so would not be too unseemly” he said haltingly, his hips rising to meet me. “There will yet be words between us on this matter, wench-at another time.”
Again I laughed as I often did in the presence of the male, until I allowed the pleasure to take me. I kept the dagger firmly in my fist, carefully near the male’s throat yet did not threaten his safety, and we both felt great pleasure. After an endless time his hand was able to force the dagger entirely away from him, and he threw me back in the furs, his body quickly following. So abruptly did I become possessed rather than possessor that I gasped, yet the pleasure did not cease. With Mehrayn’s lips to mine came the first of his vigorous pummeling, and my dagger was forgotten entirely.
I did not awaken till the first of Mida’s light spread warmth and color through the room. Mehrayn lay deeply asleep beside me to my left, my dagger lay abandoned and forgotten to my right, and I, sluggard that I was, lay where I had been left when the pleasure was done. I had immediately slept, more deeply than was usual; the falar had indeed affected me. Already was the fey advanced beyond my planned departure time, and I was as annoyed with myself as I had been at Mehrayn in the darkness. To take pleasure with a male is the right of a war leader and warrior, but yet the will of Mida must come first.
I arose from the furs and quietly donned my breech, then placed my dagger in its leg bands. Best to be gone before Mehrayn’s awakening, so that I need not listen to him beg again to accompany me. Although my hair seemed snarled and twisted its entire length, from crown to thighs, it would keep till I rode the forests toward the land of the Midanna. A heavy wooden comb was among the few possessions I had wrapped for the journey. Upon a platform by the wall was my bow and shafts, and the life sign I had carefully removed the darkness previous. I raised my swordbelt and sword from the furs beside the place I had slept, then turned toward the platform. It would be the work of no more than a moment to gather all I required, and then would I be- “So you are prepared to depart,” came Mehrayn’s voice suddenly from where he lay. “And I may not halt you, for you move to the will of the gods. Am I permitted to wish it might be otherwise?”
“To wish the matter otherwise would be to disapprove of the doings of the gods,” said I, looking down to where he lay in the furs. “Few males approve of the demands of Mida, yet in this endeavor the will of Sigurr joins hers. Do you mean to set yourself against the dark god, O Sword of Sigurr?”
“Do you need to mock me as well as leave me?” he growled, rising to stand before me. “Sigurr demands no more of women than their use upon his altar. It is from men alone that he demands strength and battle and wounds and early death, as it should be. That you are a warrior of uncommon skill is undeniable, Jalav; however I would still far prefer to stand for you rather than beside you, yet also, undeniably, I may not do so.” His hands rose to my arms and stroked me gently, and he smiled faintly as he looked down upon me. “I will not believe that blessed Sigurr would look upon my thoughts as sacrilege, yet should he do so, so be it. I would still wish to prohibit you from riding from me into danger and battle.”
“And yet you will not,” said I, knowing the truth of this as I looked up into the warmth of his eyes. Again I marveled at this male, this Sigurri, who could have held me with his strength yet refused to do so, for he knew that I did as I must, just as he did. I knew he was possessed of warrior honor, which moved each of us to the path of right rather than that of personal pleasure.
“Yes, Sigurr take me for the fool I am, I will allow you,” he murmured, sliding his palms beneath my hair and drawing me easily to the firm strength of his bare body. “I shall have your lips a final time and then I shall turn from you, and in a hand of feyd I shall follow after and find you. Once I have done so we will face the final battle together, and then—and then the will of the gods will have been seen to.”
His lips lowered to mine and eagerly did I meet them, endlessly pleased that I need not discuss my thoughts after battle with the strangers was done. It was then that Mida wished me to lead the Midanna against the Sigurri, destroying them before they might do us the same, yet had I learned that the Sigurri were honorable far beyond the god they served, and would not attack those they had fought beside. Should the matter come to it, I would give my life and soul to halt the intended attack, for the Midanna would not find it prudent to enter battle by the single clan against so large a force commanded by a single leader. Midanna and Sigurri would not raise blade to one another and I—I would find the peace I had come to long for, the peace that would not be mine while I lived. I let my swordbelt fall from my grasp and held Mehrayn as he held me, knowing that I would forget him once my soul thinned and melted into the final dark-yet somehow his strength and warmth would be eternally missed.
Our lips clung together in an attempt to prolong the moment, though it was impossible to prolong it forever. We parted at last and Mehrayn looked down upon me, his hand gently smoothing my hair.
“I shall help you gather your things and choose a kan,” he said, with resolve. “Allow me a brief moment to cover myself, and then we may . . . ”
A clear, deep ringing broke into his words, the summons from Sigurr that the time of devotions was at hand for all Sigurri. Mehrayn looked startled at the sound, and his tone became bitter.
“So I am not to be allowed even to see you off,” he said, stroking my face. “Perhaps Sigurr was displeased with the words I spoke earlier after all, yet I refuse to withdraw them. I must go now to find a wench to take to my altar, but my prayers will be for you rather than her, my Jalav. Go with Sigurr’s blessing, and care for yourself till I am able to stand once more beside you.”
His lips brushed mine briefly and then he was gone, to take up his black body cloth from where it lay upon the floor covering and begin to wrap it about himself. No, I will not share your devotions, I had told him in the darkness, and he, recalling my words, would go without argument to seek another. I found my swordbelt upon the floor at my feet but yet in Mida’s name, I could not pick it up. Never would I allow a male to deter me and yet—
“Do you mean to send me to battle without a final blessing?” I asked, knowing how the male saw his devotions to Sigurr. “I had thought the male Mehrayn cared more for the war leader Jalav.”