Rhapsody, Child of Blood (5 page)

His hand returned to the swell of her small breast, and with the slightest touch, his fingers caressed the pink nipple, followed by his mouth. As his lips touched the delicate skin she began to shiver, and the sensation swept through him, leaving him cold and burning at the same time.

Wonder filled his heart as the moonlight came to rest on her beneath the tree, illuminating her face that had been shining already without it. Her eyes glittered in the light, and he saw tears in them that matched his own. The look in those beautiful eyes was so certain, so sure, that to question what they were doing would have been to scoff at the magic they were both i+2-undeniably feeling. Gwydion's lips returned to the breast he had laid bare, and his hands moved beneath the crinkly skirt. When they made contact with the warm skin of her legs he was afraid his excitement would give way there and then.

In turn she pulled awkwardly on the laces of his trousers, and then made some calculated adjustments. As the waistband came loose she pushed them down, freeing him from the restrictions that had been keeping him in check, and exposing him briefly to the wind. Gwydion shivered violently and moved closer to her, seeking her warmth.

He leaned up over her and looked down. The expression in her eyes broke his heart.

'I love you, Sam," she said. "I've been waiting for you for so long. I always knew you would come to me if I wished for you."

Then slowly he was inside her, moving as gently as he could, trying not to lose control as he began to gasp in the throes of unimaginable pleasure.

Emily trembled beneath him, and her hands moved up his back, pulling him closer, drawing him in. He could hear her breath grow shorter; she tilted her head back and as she did his lips moved to her throat, kissing it gratefully. He was bathing her neck with tears, and he felt one of her hands leave his shoulder and move to his head, caressing it with a comforting motion.

When they were finally completely joined he lay above her, within her, motionless for a moment, afraid that if he moved or took a breath he would awake to find that this was only a dream. Even if it was, he was unwilling to let it end yet.

Emily's other hand came to rest on the side of his head and she kissed him, imparting a wordless, loving encouragement. Then she began to move slowly, rocking him from below, wrapping one of her legs around his.

From the bottom of his toes Gwydion felt a exquisite heat rise, and with it came an insistent movement that matched hers, building the fire he felt in his stomach into a raging inferno that swelled within him and consumed his entire body. He lost touch with his thoughts and let them drift away on the warm night wind, concentrating instead on the rhythm of her heart beating beneath him and the delicate sounds she was emitting.

She whispered his name, or what she thought was his name, and the thrill of hearing it drove his excitement higher. The word became a cadence she repeated, spoken softly over and over as she began to grow warm and sigh with pleasure. The sound reached down into his heart, pushing him past the gates of control, and as the thunder rolled up within him he felt her begin to cry out, gripping him as an anchor as she was swept away by the same wave he was riding.

Time became suspended; how long he made love to her he couldn't realistically gauge, having nothing to compare it with, but it seemed to last an eternity. With each passing second he felt the love in his heart for her expand until he was sure it had outgrown his body. He had expected this event to come much later in his life, and to be far less meaningful, so the shuddering sobs that consumed him when it was over took him completely by surprise.

'Sam?" Emily's voice was alarmed as she pulled him nearer.

'Gods, did I hurt you, Emily? Are you all right?"

She kissed him tenderly, and then pulled back to look into his eyes. "Are you kidding? Did it feel like I was hurt?" She laughed, and the feeling shot through him like a hot bolt of lightning, running up his spine and resonating in his forehead.

He bent his head down over her shoulder, weak with relief. "Emily, I would never, never hurt you on purpose; I hope you know that."

She look him straight on the eye. "Of course I do. Why would you ever hurt something that belongs to you? Because I do, Sam. I'm yours."

He sighed. "Thank the gods."

'No," she said seriously, "thank the stars. It was them that brought you to me."

Gwydion lifted his head with great effort and stared into the moonlit sky above him, sprinkled with grains of light like sand from a diamond beach.

'Thank you!" he shouted. Emily giggled, then sighed as he moved regretfully away and began to put himself back together. She adjusted her clothing as well, and as they finished dressing a look of disappointment came over her face. She turned toward the village, then back to him.

'That's the Lorana waltz. We had best get back, the dance will be ending soon."

Gwydion sighed. He would have been happy to stay in this field with her forever.

'Oh, all right," he said.

He took her hand and pulled her up, then drew her into his H arms and kissed her once more. When he looked at her face he saw no trace of regret, or second thought, just blissful contentment.

He put his cloak back on and lifted Emily off the ground, carrying her across the stream again, knowing that they were crossing the threshold of the place she loved, the place she thought of as home. He felt a twinge of sadness at the knowledge that their hasty exit would mean this was the last time he would ever carry her over that threshold.

Chey crossed the fields hand in hand, walking more slowly than they had coming here. When they crested the face of the hill, the grip of Emily's hand tightened suddenly.

He turned to her anxiously. "Are you all right?"

'Yes, but I need to sit down for a moment."

Gwydion took hold of her other hand and helped her to the ground, then sank worriedly down beside her. "Emily, what's wrong?"

She gave him a reassuring smile. "Nothing is wrong, Sam. I just need to rest a minute."

'Are you sure?"

'Yes. Can I ask you something?"

'Of course, anything."

'How old are you?"

'Fourteen. How old are you?"

She thought for a moment. "What time do you think it is?"

'About eleven o'clock, I would say."

'Then I'm thirteen."

Gwydion looked at her, puzzled. "Why does the time matter?"

'Because in an hour I'll be fourteen, too, like you."

Now he understood. "It's your birthday?"

'Well, tomorrow."

He pulled her into his arms. "Happy birthday, Emily."

'Thank you." She grew very excited. "Wait; I have an idea! Do you want to come to supper tomorrow?"

Gwydion hugged her tighter. "That would be wonderful."

She pushed out of his embrace, and he smiled at the eagerness on her face. "You can meet my parents and my brothers. Maybe if my father sees how happy I am with you he will give his consent."

'What time?"

'Why don't you come about five—we eat at six."

He looked down at his dusty clothes regretfully. "This is all I have to wear, I'm afraid."

Emily touched the material of his shirt. It was woven of a fabric finer than she had ever seen before, and the craftsmanship of all the garments was superior to even the needlework of the best seamstresses in the village. "This is fine," she said simply. "I'll show you my house on the way past."

Gwydion was rummaging around in his pockets. He pulled out his pouch, and looked inside it. There was nothing that would make a suitable gift, and he doubted there would be any merchant in the village from which to purchase one. He took out the five gold coins he had brought with him on his way to the market, and put them in her hand.

'This is all I have; it's not much of a gift, but I want you to have something from me tonight." Tomorrow he would search the pasturelands for the most beautiful flowers he could find.

Emily's eyes widened in amazement, and a look of horror came over her face.

'I can't take this, Sam—this is as much as half my dowry." She turned one of the coins over and stared at it. The face minted on it was that of the prince of Roland, a land that would not exist for another seven centuries. She took his hand and opened the palm, returning the coins. "Besides, if I come home with that, my parents will think I've been doing something terribly wrong."

His face flared crimson in understanding. Then a different thought occurred to him.

He rummaged in the pouch again, and pulled out another coin, copper this time. It was small and oddly shaped, with thirteen sides, and he opened her hand and put it in.

Then he pulled out another just like it.

'As far as I know, there are only two of these in all the world. They have no real value other than that, but they're very special to me. I can't think of anyone better to give one to."

She examined the coin for a moment; then she smiled and drew him close. "Thank you, Sam; I'll treasure it. Now, we better get going."

He helped her stand and brushed the loose grass off the back of her velvet dress. "I wish I had a better gift for you." They began to walk down the hill leading to the village and the meeting hall.

'You couldn't give me a better gift than what you've given me tonight. You came here from far away in answer to my wish. Who could ask for more than that?"

He put his arm around her. "But it's your birthday."

'Do you really want to give me something special?"

'More than anything."

She smiled, and slid out from under his arm, taking his hand instead. "Tell me about the places you've been, the wonderful things that you've seen," she said, her eyes gleaming in excitement. "Talk to me about where we will go, what we will see someday."

'Well, since you've never seen the ocean, we could begin with the tall ships that will carry us across the wide Central Sea."

He told her of the masts and the riggings and the woven net beds called hammocks that the sailors slept in, of the great port of Kesel Tai, where ships from around the world sought the trade and wisdom of the Sea Mages. He told her of Port Fallon on the shores of his own lands, where a great lighthouse stood a hundred feet tall, il uminating the way for lost mariners. And lastly he told her of the Lirin port of Tallono, whose exposed bay had been turned from an open mooring to a sheltering harbor with the aid of a woman who held the wisdom and power of dragons.

Emily listened in rapt excitement, drinking in his words. She broke loose from her reverie long enough to show him her family's farm. It was the large one he had seen from the summit of the first hill. Warm carriage lights burned out in front of the pasture gate in welcome.

There was so much Gwydion would have told her—of the river so cold and wide in some places that its opposite bank could barely be seen through the heavy morning mist, the river that led up to the Lands of the Gorllewinolo Lirin, where she could meet many of her mother's people, and even as half-caste she would be welcomed.

He would have told her of the Oracle of Yarim, with its mad prophetess, and of the great city of Sepulvarta, where the priests held their temples and the people were ruled by the Patriarch. And he most certainly would have told her of the Great White Tree, but before he could they were back in the village, approaching the entrance of the meeting hall. He promised himself, as their steps slowed, that one day he would show her all the things he knew she wanted to see.

When they came to the place he had found her hiding, she turned quickly to him as a thought occurred to her. "Do we have a patronymic? A family name?"

Gwydion felt a shiver of delight pass through him at the thought of her sharing it, but was at a loss to explain the nomenclature to her. "Yes, sort of. It's complicated. And my name is different as well. You see, the way—"

'Emmy, there you are! Where the blazes have you been? Justin is here, and he's looking everywhere for you, as are a few other people." Ben's voice was filled with relief as well as anger.

Emily ignored the question, pulling Gwydion over to where her brother stood. "Hello, Ben. Did you enjoy the dance? This is Sam; Sam, this is my brother Ben."

Gwydion put out his hand, and Ben looked at him for a second, shifting his focus.

He shook Gwydion's hand, then turned to Emily again. "You're going to catch it when Father finds out."

'Finds out what?"

'That you didn't go to the dance."

'I most certainly did go to the dance, and I had a wonderful time."

Ben was turning red with annoyance. "You didn't dance once, Emmy. There are an awful lot of upset fellows in there."

Emily started to laugh. "I did so dance, just not inside. You even saw me. Let it go, Ben; I had a lovely evening."

'Emmy?" The new voice was deeper, and Gwydion turned to see a much older youth hurrying toward them. He also had dark hair, and he was a head taller than Emily. She ran to meet him and he lifted her off the ground in a wide embrace.

'Happy Birthday, Ugly," he said affectionately, kissing her cheek. "Did you have fun?

Was the dance nice?"

'The best ever," she answered, grinning. She introduced her oldest brother, Justin, to Gwydion as well, and he walked with them to the wagon Justin had brought to drive her home in.

As her brothers hitched the horses, Emily turned to him again. "Thank you, Sam,"

she said softly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

'At five on the nose. Happy birthday, Emily. I'll be thinking about you every moment until I see you again."

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and ran to the wagon. Pain welled up inside him; he had no idea how much truth was in the last words she heard from his lips.

'I love you," he called after her as the horses began to pull away. She put her hand to her ear, signifying she hadn't heard him. He watched the wagon rumble off into the darkness, Emily waving until she was out of sight.

'"Che next morning Gwydion rose before dawn with the other farmhands, preparing to work as the other men did, bare-chested in the summer heat. He wrapped his waterskin and dagger, along with his shirt, in his cloak and stowed it beneath the cot he had slept on.