DemonWars Saga Volume 1 (180 page)

Read DemonWars Saga Volume 1 Online

Authors: R. A. Salvatore

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Collections & Anthologies, #Dark Fantasy, #Fiction / Fantasy / General, #Science Fiction/Fantasy

BOOK: DemonWars Saga Volume 1
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CHAPTER 1
Passion for Life
The room was dark, the curtains drawn, but the ranger could see the gray of the predawn sky around their lace-trimmed edges. Instinctively he reached behind him, seeking the comforting, warm feel of his lover's body, but she was not there.
Elbryan rolled over, surprised. Pony was not in the bed, nor even in the room, he realized as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. With a groan, for he was not accustomed to sleeping in any bed, let alone a soft one
—and this one was especially pillowy, for the folk of the towns had given the ranger the finest bed in Caer Tinella—Elbryan rolled off the bed to his feet, straightened, and stretched. He went to the window, noting that Pony's fine sword was not beside his own. That did not alarm him, though; as he came more fully awake, he could guess easily enough where she was.
When he pulled aside the curtains, he found that it was later than he had believed. The sky was thick with gray clouds, but he could tell that the top half of the sun was already peeking over the horizon. And the days this time of year were shortest of all, for they were now in the month of Decambria, the twelfth and last, and the winter solstice was less than three weeks away.
A scan of the forest north of the town showed the ranger the expected firelight. He went through a series of slow, exaggerated movements then, sliding low to the floor then back up, arms wide stretching, as he limbered up his six-foot three-inch, two-hundred-and-ten-pound, muscular frame. Then he pulled on his clothes and cloak quickly, wanting to join his love, and took up the magnificent Tempest, his elven-forged sword, the sword of his uncle Mather, the emblem of his position as ranger.
His room was on the northern edge of town, as he had requested, and so he saw few of the townsfolk as he rushed away
—past a corral and the skeletal remnant of the barn he and Juraviel had burned on one escape from the monsters who had previously held Caer Tinella—and out into the forest.
A blanket of snow had settled thickly about the region only a week ago, but the weather had turned warmer since then. Now a low fog clung above the ground, blurring the trails, hiding the leafless branches. But the ranger knew the small, sheltered field he and Pony had chosen for their morning ritual: the elven sword dance,
bi'nelle dasada.
He came upon her quietly, both not wanting to disturb her and also to glimpse her at the dance in its truest form.
And then he saw her and his heart was softened, and all his body felt warm.
She was naked, her feminine frame veiled only by the morning mists, her strong muscles glistening as they moved through the perfectly balanced interplay of
bi'nelle dasada,
weaving a wondrous dance of balance and motion. Elbryan could hardly believe how much he loved her, how much the sight of her thrilled and moved him. Her thick blond hair was longer now, reaching several inches below her shoulders and trailing her with every turn, as the sparkle of her blue eyes seemed to lead her. She held Defender, a fine, slender sword, its silverel blade shining in the dull morning light or sparkling suddenly with an orange flare whenever it caught the reflection of the campfire she had lit nearby.
The ranger crouched and continued to admire her, thinking it ironic, for it used to be Pony who spied on him at
bi'nelle dasada
in the days when she desired to learn the intricacies of the dance. How well she had studied! His admiration was twofold 
— one part of him impressed by the beauty of her movements, the level of harmony she had achieved in so short a time, and the other based in simple lust. He and Pony had not been intimate in several weeks, not since before the end of summer on the road to St.-Mere-Abelle to rescue Bradwarden, when she had unexpectedly broken their vow of abstinence and seduced him. Elbryan had tried to repeat that passionate scene several times since, but Pony had steadfastly refused. Looking at her now, he was nearly overwhelmed. Her allure was undeniable, the smoothness of her skin, the soft curves of her honed body, the movements of her hips, her legs, so shapely and strong. Elbryan could not imagine anyone more beautiful or enticing. He realized that he was breathing more heavily, that he was suddenly very warm—and though the day was not cold for the season, the air was surely not warm!
Embarrassed, feeling then that he was invading Pony's privacy, the ranger pushed the lustful thoughts from his mind and fell fully into the meditative calm afforded him by his years of discipline with the Touel'alfar. Soon he left Elbryan Wyndon behind, taking on the calm attitude of Nightbird, the warrior title given him by the elves.
He untied his cloak and let it fall to the ground, then quietly pulled off the rest of his clothing. Taking Tempest in hand, he walked from the brush. So deep in concentration was Pony that she did not notice his approach until he was within a stride of her. She turned to face him, startled, and did not match his smile with her own.
Her expression, jaw set firm and blue eyes blazing intently, caught Nightbird off guard. He was even more surprised when Pony moved suddenly, throwing her sword into the ground near his feet so forcefully that its tip dug inches into the hardened earth.
"I
—I did not mean to disturb you," the ranger stammered, at a loss, for he and Pony had shared
bi'nelle dasada
for weeks, had sword-danced together since he had taught it to her, the two working as one that they might bring their fighting styles and movements into perfect harmony. Also, both of them had come to substitute the sword dance for a different form of intimacy, the one that they had agreed they could not now share.
Pony did not reply, except to halve the distance between them, staring up at him, breathing hard, sweat glistening on her neck and shoulders.
"I will leave if you desire," the ranger started to say, but was cut short as Pony reached up suddenly, grabbing the hair on the back of his head, moving her body against his, and pulling his face down, while she came up on tiptoe, locking him in a hungry kiss.
Tempest still in hand, the ranger's arms went around her, but loosely, unsure where this might be heading.
Pony showed no signs of relenting, her kiss growing more passionate, hungrier, with each passing second. The meditative state was long gone from Elbryan; no more was he the elven warrior. Still, he kept his wits about him enough finally to push Pony back a bit, to break the kiss and stare at her questioningly. For though they had proclaimed their love for each other openly, though they were 
— in the eyes of all who knew them; in their hearts; and truly, they believed, in the eyes of God—husband and wife, they had vowed to abstain from marital relations for fear that Pony, whose duties were no less demanding and dangerous than Elbryan's, would become pregnant.
Elbryan started to ask Pony about that pact of abstinence, but she interrupted him with a growl. She reached over and pulled Tempest from his grasp and threw the sword to the ground, then went back at Elbryan, locking him in a deep kiss, her hands roaming about his back, and then lower.
Elbryan hadn't the strength to protest. He wanted Pony so very badly, loved Pony so very deeply. Still locked in the passionate kiss, she slid down to the ground, pulling her lover atop her. The ranger wanted this moment to last, wanted to savor the beauty of lovemaking with Pony, so he tried to slow things down.
Pony roughly pushed him over onto his back and chased him all the way, urgently, hungrily, growling with every determined movement. Then they were joined and all was motion and sound. The stunned Elbryan fought hard to remove his thoughts from the tumult, trying to make some sense of it all. Always before, their lovemaking had been gentle and warm, full of words and teasing caresses. Now, it was physical, even angry; and the grunting, growling sounds escaping Pony's lips were as filled with rage as with desire. Elbryan knew and understood that she wasn't angry with him, but rather that she was releasing her anger at all the world
through
him. This was her release from, or denial of, all the horror and pain. And so Elbryan allowed her to lead him in this most intimate of dances, tried to give her what she most needed from him, both physically and emotionally.
Even when they were done, wrapped in Pony's cloak and in each other's arms near the small fire, there was no conversation, no questions. Too overwhelmed and too consumed by the physical release to press the issue, Elbryan dozed off, and was only half aware when Pony slipped from his grasp.
He awakened barely minutes later, to see Pony sitting in the middle of the small field beside their weapons, with Elbryan's cloak pulled tightly about her. He studied the faraway look in her eyes, the glisten of a tear on her soft cheek.
Elbryan looked up at the empty grayness of the sky, as confused as he had been when Pony had locked him in that first kiss. And she was even more confused than he, he realized. He decided that he would wait patiently for his answers, would let her come to him.
When she was ready.
An hour later, when Elbryan returned to Caer Tinella, the town was bustling with activity. The ranger came back alone, for Pony had left him on the field without a word. She had kissed him tenderly though, perhaps in apology, perhaps merely to assure him that she was all right. Elbryan had accepted that kiss as explanation enough for the present, for to him no apology was needed; but no matter what Pony did or said it would not alleviate his fears for her. Their lovemaking that morning had been necessary for Pony, comforting and freeing, but the ranger knew that the demons within his lover had not been exorcised.
He was worrying about her, wondering what more he could do to help her, as he walked to his appointment with Tomas Gingerwart.
Though Elbryan arrived early, Tomas was already waiting for him in the centrally located barn that served as the town's meeting hall. Tomas was a hardy man, not very tall but stocky and hardened from years of farming. He rose and extended his hand to Elbryan; the ranger clasped it noting that Tomas' hand was rough and his grip strong. Elbryan realized that in all the weeks he had known Tomas, this was the first time they had shared a handshake. And Tomas had a wide smile
—another rarity—on his dark face.
Tomas' plans were in motion, the ranger realized.
"How fares Nightbird this fine day?" Tomas asked.
Elbryan shrugged.
"Well, I would guess," Tomas said lightly. "Your beautiful companion came through town only a few minutes before you, and from the same direction
—from the northern forest." Tomas offered a wink as he finished, a good-natured gesture and not lewd, but Elbryan returned it with a scowl.
"The caravan has been sponsored," Tomas declared, clearing his throat and changing the subject. "If it wasn't so late in the year, we could depart in a few weeks."
"We must be certain that winter's grip on the land is ended," Elbryan replied.
"We?" Tomas asked with a smile. Ever since Elbryan and Pony had joined him in Caer Tinella, Tomas had been trying to persuade Nightbird to join his Timberlands-bound caravan, but the ranger had been elusive and had not committed to the journey. Tomas had pressed him hard, but fairly, though some of the sponsoring merchants would not provide their money and supplies unless the ranger agreed to lead the way.
Elbryan looked at the hopeful, crooked grin on the weatherworn face of Tomas Gingerwart and recognized that the man was his friend. "I will accompany you," he confirmed. "Dundalis was my home, and Pony's as well, and I believe that we have as great a stake in its rebuilding as any."
"But what of your duties to the Kingsmen?" Tomas asked. It was no secret that Nightbird had been working with Shamus Kilronney, captain of the Kingsmen brigade, to ensure the security of the land. Shamus and the ranger had become friends, so it was rumored, and Pony was reportedly even closer to the man.
"Captain Kilronney is convinced that the region is secure," Elbryan explained. "Pony spoke with him yesterday
—and might again be with him this morning, discussing his plans for returning his brigade to the south."
Tomas nodded, but he was obviously not thrilled with the news of the soldiers' impending departure.
"She is trying to convince the captain to remain a bit longer," Elbryan went on, "perhaps through the winter, and even to accompany us farther to the north in the spring. No doubt the King desires the reopening of the Timberlands as soon as possible."

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