Fire of the Soul (41 page)

“He is?”

“Both are strong and brave men. Perhaps they
force themselves to be so because they possess no inborn Power.
Despite their physical courage, at heart both are kind and gentle
men. And men of great honor. Garit will never betray or hurt you,
any more than Toren would betray or hurt me. When you are alone
with Garit, at first you will experience some awkward moments until
you grow accustomed to each other. But then, you will know great
joy.”

“Was it so for you?” Calia watched as Zara’s
pale face lit with an inner radiance.

“Oh, yes. Toren is the husband I always
wanted.”

“I am glad, Zara.”

The gown Calia had chosen was made of a thin,
silvery fabric that swirled around her feet when she walked. Zara’s
maid combed her hair into a high, curly arrangement interwoven with
silver ribbons.

Just as the women were leaving Zara’s
chamber, Finen appeared to thrust a silk-wrapped package into
Calia’s hands.

“Lord Garit sends these,” the page recited
his message, “and begs that you will wear them. It’s your wedding
gift, my lady,” he ended on a gleeful note.

Calia opened the package. Green stones set in
silver winked up at her. They were not as large, nor as Power-laden
as the Great Emerald she had delivered to Ultan, but they were even
more precious to her because they represented Garit’s love.

“How beautiful,” Zara said, “and perfect with
your gown.”

A short time later Calia descended the wide
staircase to the feasting hall with Zara and Finen in attendance
and with her new emerald necklace and earrings in place.

And there, in the hall, with the nobles of
Chandelar present as witnesses and the Great Mage Ultan performing
the ancient rite, she and Garit were wed.

Later, Calia remembered every word and each
moment of the ceremony, though she recalled little of the feast
that followed, and nothing at all of the speeches, save that they
were filled with gratitude for what she, Garit, and Durand had
accomplished to the benefit of Chandelar.

Later, as the formal celebration ended, a
clean-shaven Captain Pyrsig planted a hearty kiss on her lips.
Fenella, wearing a brilliant orange gown and a purple veil, hugged
her. Durand caught her around the waist and kissed her cheek,
calling her his other sister, a compliment that briefly reduced
Calia to happy tears. Toren, ever grave and polite, lifted her hand
to his lips and wished her well.

And then Zara, sweet, kind Zara, conducted
her back up the stairs to the bedchamber she and Garit were to
share and helped her prepare to receive her new husband. She did
not unfasten Calia’s hair.

“Let Garit do it,” she whispered as she
fastened the tie at the neck of Calia’s new bed-gown. “Men like to
have something to do with their hands when they are nervous.”

Garit arrived just as Zara was slipping out
the door. To Calia’s eyes he did not look at all nervous, just very
stern. He came to her by the open window and stood next to her,
gazing out at the mountains.

“We sail tomorrow, on the morning tide,” he
said. “Durand isn’t going with us. He’s remaining in Tannaris for a
time. Something to do with the Emerald.”

“That’s nice.” Calia scarcely knew what she
was saying. She was trembling, and not from the cool breeze that
blew through the window.

“Aren’t you going to take your hair down?”
Garit asked.

“Zara said I should ask you to do it.”

“Lady Zara is a wise woman.” He caught her
shoulders, turning her to face him.

“Garit?”

“Yes, love.” He drew her closer and kissed
her forehead.

“Are you nervous?”

“Just a little. Aren’t you?”

“I’m not sure exactly what I feel. I know I’m
happy – so very happy. And I’m glad our great adventure is behind
us.”

“Oh, my love,” Garit whispered, his nimble
fingers moving from the unfastened tie of her gown to the ribbons
in her hair, “our next and greatest adventure is just
beginning.”

By the time her gown was on the floor and her
hair was tumbling loose down her back, she began to comprehend what
he meant about a new adventure. He was gentle with her, caressing
her slowly and tenderly until all her untested womanly senses began
to awaken. As his kisses grew hotter and deeper her knees
threatened to give way under the onslaught. Just as she began to
fear she’d crumple to the floor, Garit lifted her into his arms and
carried her to their wide bed. She sighed with pleasure when he
came down beside her.

“You were right,” she whispered. “I do feel
adventurous.”

“We haven’t even begun,” he told her.

In the next moment his hands were on her
breasts, teasing and stroking until she began to whimper with
longing for something more. Twisting against him, she suddenly
became aware of his manhood hot and hard against her thigh. She
couldn’t resist; she touched him, tentatively at first, and then
she wrapped her hand around him and began to rub.

“Ah, no!” he cried, grabbing her wrist. “Not
yet.”

“Did I hurt you?” From what she knew of men
in his aroused condition, which admittedly wasn’t much since her
experience was limited to a few quick glimpses of couples entwined
against a castle wall or in the stables, she didn’t think she’d
done any serious damage. “Garit?”

“I’m trying to go slowly,” he said, sounding
as if he was in some pain. “You are making that difficult.”

“But, if you can touch me, why can’t I touch
you in the same way?”

“Another time,” he whispered. “When you are
not so new to lovemaking. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“How could you?” She gasped then as his hand
slid along her inner thigh, paused, and moved higher. She gasped
again when he touched a spot so sensitive that she couldn’t breathe
or think. All she could do was press herself against his hand in a
silent plea for more – and still more.

He took his hand away, ignoring her wordless
complaint at the deprivation. A moment later she felt his hardness
pushing against her, stretching her body steadily yet slowly and
carefully as he made the two of them one. She experienced only a
brief instant of pinching discomfort and then he was gazing down at
her with a frown.

“Is something wrong?” she managed to
whisper.

“Everything is very right.”

Encouraged, she wriggled a bit to make
herself more comfortable. Garit groaned. By his contorted features,
she could tell he was trying his best to control his violent
emotions. Her own emotions were about to give way to a lovely,
frantic madness that was building in the very core of her being.
She felt as if she were one of the great volcanoes of Chandelar
about to erupt.

Garit moved in her, stroking deeply,
whispering her name over and over, telling her how much he loved
her, urging Calia’s passionate response. Suddenly she was moving in
rhythm with him. The blood thundered in her veins, pounding louder
and louder, until her heart nearly stopped.

Garit was holding her so tightly she could
barely breathe, she didn’t care if she ever took another breath,
and in that ultimate moment when all the overheated tension
building inside her was released, when the volcano she imagined in
the very core of herself exploded and she felt Garit’s own release
and heard his cry of triumph and happiness, Calia understood what
true joy was.

Saumar Manor reposed in the golden light of
an autumn afternoon. Red and bronze leaves cloaked the trees.
Apples lay on the ground or filled wide baskets awaiting the cart
that Garit could see approaching. In a nearby field a woman sat
astride a horse, directing the field hands as they gathered the
ripe grain. One of the men said something to the woman and she
turned to stare at Garit and his companions.

“Calia? Calia!” the woman shouted. “You’ve
come home.”

“Mairne!” Calia urged her horse forward until
the two women met in an awkward, tearful embrace, each leaning from
her horse to reach the other.

“We’ve been so worried about you,” Mairne
cried. “You sent not a word to tell us how you fared after we
parted.”

“We had no time to send a letter,” Garit
said. “Captain Pyrsig told us how Lady Elgida sent him to Tannaris
to find us. He did, and here we are.”

“Where is Lord Durand?” Mairne asked of
Garit.

“Still in Tannaris, with the Great Mage
Ultan,” Garit said. “Where is Anders?”

“At the moment, he is with Lady Elgida. She’s
teaching him how to keep the account books. Oh, he doesn’t like
that! But she has promised to make him seneschal when we marry.

“He’s still limping,” Mairne added. “The blow
Mallory dealt him cut through his thigh to the bone. Captain Pyrsig
kept washing the wound with seawater. Then Lady Elgida found a good
doctor in Port Moren. Anders can ride, with effort and pain, though
the doctor promised the discomfort will ease in time, if he keeps
trying to use the leg. So, Lady Elgida says Anders ought to retire
as many valiant knights do after a severe battle injury, and take
care of Saumar.”

“Obviously, a lot has happened,” Garit said.
“Why don’t we wait until later to exchange our stories?”

“Yes,” Mairne agreed. “After the evening
meal.”

They sat around the long table in the great
hall, with every man-at-arms, every servant, and all of the field
hands listening while Garit recounted the tale of the dangerous
trek from Kerun City, across the Northern Border and the mountains,
into Chandelar.

Calia looked around at faces she knew well,
from Lady Elgida to Mairne and Anders, to the doughty men-at-arms,
Winn and his comrades, to Sundaria and Belai and Kinen. All were
silent and engrossed in what Garit was saying. This story of the
use and misuse of Power was the most exciting entertainment any of
them had enjoyed in years.

“And so,” Garit finished the tale with a
romantic flourish, worthy of the finest bards, “Calia and I were
married by the Great Mage Ultan and the next day we sailed for Port
Moren. And here we are, safe and happy to be back in Sapaudia
again.”

The listeners erupted into applause and
cheers and Calia refilled Garit’s silver wine cup.

“We have a story, too,” Belai cried, standing
at his place well down the table. He pulled Kinen up to stand with
him. “Shall we tell it to you, Brother?”

“Sit down, at once,” Lady Elgida commanded.
“Mind your manners, both of you.”

“I would like to hear your tale,” Garit said
to the boys. “If our grandmother permits, of course.”

“Oh, go on, then,” Lady Elgida said with a
wave of her hand. “When the boys have finished, Sundaria and I will
fill in the parts they leave out.
They
are only interested
in bloodshed and other manly excitement.”

For the next hour, Belai and Kinen,
interrupting each other frequently, described their escape from the
clutches of a wicked stepfather who tried to keep them and their
mother in Kerun City, to the safety of the open sea, and then to
Saumar. They spoke with considerable relish about the wound that
Anders had sustained and the squire’s courage in enduring the salt
water treatment that Captain Pyrsig prescribed.

Either because of their delight with
shipboard life, or because of their interest in Anders’ injury,
they did not mention any of the women, including their mother.

When they finished to scattered applause that
suggested most of their audience had heard the tale before, Lady
Elgida sent them off to bed and many of the listeners also departed
to their late evening chores.

“As you have just heard, if Mairne did not
tell you at once,” Lady Elgida said to Calia and Garit, “I intend
to make Anders my seneschal, and Mairne my chatelaine.”

“Those are good choices,” Calia agreed. “But
won’t Anders have to be knighted, if he’s to command your
men-at-arms?”

“I’ve been waiting for Garit to return,” Lady
Elgida said. “I thought it appropriate for him to knight his
brother.”

“I didn’t realize you knew,” Garit responded
in surprise.

“That Anders is also my grandson? Of course,
I knew. Very little passes me by. He has asked permission to wed
Mairne. Considering how close they are, the marriage ought to take
place at once, before they present us with yet another illegitimate
child to join the family. Since I have no desire to make another
journey so soon after the last, I have sent for Adana to come here
and conduct the marriage rites. I will leave it to Garit to perform
the ritual of knighting.”

“Yes, please, Garit,” said Anders, who was
grinning and holding Mairne’s hand tightly.

“Very well,” Garit agreed. “We will hold both
ceremonies as soon as Aunt Adana arrives.”

“Now,” Lady Elgida went on, “about Belai and
Kinen. Those boys require more discipline than I can offer, and
both of them are of an age to begin their knightly schooling.
Therefore, I propose to send them to Nozay Manor immediately. Let
Lord Giles train them as he once trained you.”

“I have written to my father,” Sundaria told
them. “He replied that he’s willing to take the boys, and he will
be happy to have me visit him for a time. So, I will be part of the
group that travels to Nozay.”

“That’s a very good plan,” Calia said.
“Sundaria, you told me once that you are eager to meet your father
again. Garit, wouldn’t you like to visit Lord Giles?”

“I would.” Garit smiled at his wife. “If you
don’t mind setting off again so soon after reaching Saumar, we
ought to leave here before the winter storms begin.”

“There is conflict along the border with the
Dominion,” Lady Elgida warned them.

“We’ll take a dozen men-at-arms with us for protection,” Garit
said. “After Nozay, we can travel on to Auremont, so Calia can see
our own castle, and then pay a visit to Calean City, so I can
present her to King Henryk and Queen Hannorah.”