Skye copied Idonea’s motions and the Ha’kan scholars held their breath as Skye concentrated. Nothing happened.
“You’re thinking too much again,” Idonea chided. “Close your eyes and feel the sun on your face.”
Skye followed her direction.
“Now think about that light that is falling on your skin.”
Skye did so, her shoulders relaxing.
“Now put that light between your hands.”
Runa stifled a gasp at the marble-sized ball of light that appeared floating between Skye’s hands.
“Open your eyes slowly,” Idonea said, “and keep your body relaxed.”
Skye opened her eyes and stared in wonder at the small light sphere.
“Breathe in, then breathe out, and let it expand a little.”
The ball of light grew until it was about the size that Idonea’s had been.
“Good, good,” Idonea said encouragingly, “now the light is a little yellowish, that means it’s not pure. Try to focus and keep breathing.”
Skye again followed the soothing directions and the light grew brighter and whiter.
“Now think about the light being cold, like moonlight.”
Skye concentrated, but she wasn’t certain if it was having the desired effect because the light felt the same to her. Idonea waved her hand near the sphere.
“Colder,” she instructed, and Skye tried to obey. Idonea plucked a leaf from a nearby tree and held it next to the ball of light. Frost crept over the green surface, freezing the leaf solid.
“Now think about it humming, as if singing a song to you.”
Skye smiled at the analogy. She focused and could almost hear the song. Idonea plucked a dead leaf from the ground and held it near the sphere. It dissolved into dust from the vibration.
“Excellent,” Idonea said, “now think about the light being hot, like a white hot poker.”
Skye did so, and Idonea plucked another leaf from the tree and held it close to the sphere. This one curled and smoked, then burst into flames.
“Wonderful!” Idonea exclaimed. “Now I want you to try something that I did not show you. I want you to make the ball float towards the practice dummy.”
“Okay,” Skye said, steeling herself. She wasn’t certain how to get the ball of light moving, but imagery and gestures often helped, so she blew on the ball as if blowing seeds from a dandelion. The ball of light left her hand and began to float across the courtyard towards the dummy.
“Marvelous,” Idonea said, watching the ball travel to its target. When it reached the dummy, its heat was so intense it burned a perfectly round hole in the straw figure as it drifted through. Skye was ecstatic, but then a look of consternation passed over her features as the ball of light continued to drift. It reached a full-size tree and bored the same perfect hole in the trunk without slowing down. It was now headed towards the castle wall.
“Um…,” Skye said.
“You can’t stop it, can you?” Idonea said, her tone understated for the disaster that was unfolding. The ball of light could drill its way wall-by-wall through the entire castle, incinerating everything in its path.
“No,” Skye said, aghast at what she had unleashed.
“Raine?” Idonea said.
“Already on it,” Raine said.
And she was, having risen and already begun jogging towards the slow-moving missile. Right before it reached the wall, she reached out and grabbed it, an act that would have incinerated anyone else who tried it. But upon her touch, the ball of light just sparked, then fizzled out.
“I am so sorry,” Skye said.
“I’m pretty sure that’s Idonea’s fault,” Raine called out.
“Thank you for pointing out the obvious,” Idonea called back. “There’s no need to apologize,” she said to Skye. “You just learned a spell that took me weeks to absorb. You might want to make sure Raine is around, though, when you practice.”
“And you might want to practice that one in a wide open field,” Gimle suggested.
“That is a very good idea,” Skye said, still wide-eyed at the near disaster. But Idonea was unmoved and Raine as cheerful as ever, so she started breathing again.
“Why don’t you youngsters run along,” Idonea said, “I’d like a word with the First Scholar and Raine.”
A relieved Skye joined Runa and Kara and they left.
“Well that was impressive,” Gimle said when the three were gone.
“I’m not sure what’s more impressive,” Idonea said, “that the girl learns these spells so effortlessly or that she is so unconscious of her own talent.”
“I remember a young mage who accompanied me on a quest years ago,” Raine said, “one filled with dark magic who made up ingenious spells off the top of her head.”
“I was not as humble as Skye,” Idonea said.
“No,” Raine said, kissing her daughter-in-law on the cheek, “you were not. But you were just as talented.”
“Skye’s magic is different,” Idonea mused, “I have many rivals when it comes to dark magic, but light magic is its own entity, and I know no one who practices it exclusively. Speaking of practice,” Idonea said, turning to Gimle, “I am returning to the imperial capital, so you must take over Skye’s tutelage in the short-term. See that she practices and does not spend all her time on the archery range.”
“I will gladly do so,” Gimle said. “Although until she learns to control this spell,” she continued, eying the two, singed holes, “We will stay out of the bedroom.”
“A wise decision,” Idonea said, laughing, and the First Scholar left them.
“So you will meet us in imperial territory?” Raine asked.
“Yes. I’m only going ahead because the Baroness of Fireside has many duties of diplomacy.”
“As does the daughter of a dragon,” Raine said shrewdly. “Why do I feel this particular direction came from your mother?”
“Because you know her. I believe her exact words were, ‘why don’t you go fuck that Knight Commander of yours so that we stay in the good graces of the empire?’”
“Yes,” Raine said, laughing, “that sounds exactly like her.”
Chapter 6
S
kye was wandering through the castle. The sprawling structure still confused her and she had yet to discover every hall and room, so occasionally she just set out to explore. She was somewhere near the Queen’s forum, in a series of rooms with paintings, sculptures, and statuary. The figures and busts were of beautiful women in magnificent and imposing poses. Skye lingered to read the various accounts of Ha’kan history that accompanied the artwork. The room was empty save for two of the Royal Guard, and the hall was quiet.
The clang of swords caught Skye’s attention and she glanced to the Royal Guard, but they showed no reaction. Clearly the sound was not unexpected, and as laughter drifted in with the swordplay, Skye grew curious. She did not think there was any part of the castle she was forbidden, so she nodded to the two Guards as she followed the sound.
She came into a large, high-ceiling room where light streamed through enormous windows. The room was occupied by four women, and Skye stared at the unlikely scene. Astrid and Helena sat together on a bench watching the combatants and enjoying the show. Senta was using both a sword and a shield against a formidable opponent, one who also used a sword and shield in a skillful manner. Skye watched the contest, dumbfounded, for she had never seen Senta train with this particular individual.
It was the Queen.
Halla was dressed in training armor, much like Dallan’s. It was lightweight leather, slightly modified with the royal insignia. It fit the Queen a bit more snugly in places, and because she was not wearing a chest plate, the swell of her breasts was pressed against the top of the leather jerkin. Skye’s attention was occupied by the sheen of perspiration on those soft mounds, but only briefly as she was drawn back to the skill of the participants. Senta attacked and the Queen parried the flurry of thrusts and swings, moving backward with expert footwork. She moved in an arc, which put Senta facing the doorway, and directly facing Skye. Senta paused, lowering her sword.
It took Skye a moment to grasp that Senta was looking at her, a grin on her handsome features, while Skye stood there gaping, mouth open. And then the Queen was also regarding at her, that same knowing look on her lovely face.
“I beg your pardon, your Majesty,” Skye stammered, blushing. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting, Skye,” Halla said, “Although I don’t know whether to be pleased or insulted by the look of shock on your face.”
Skye clamped her mouth shut as both Astrid and Helena laughed. Skye tried to redeem herself.
“I—, I never thought—.” Finally, Skye gathered her wits about her. “I guess I’ve never seen you fight before.”
“No,” the Queen said, laughingly calling Skye’s bluff, “You did not think I could.”
“Well,” Skye mumbled, “that might have been part of it.”
Halla swung the sword with a fluid motion. “I once had a vocation, what did you think I was?”
“A priestess,” Skye admitted before she could stop herself.
“Thank you for the compliment,” Halla said, tossing a wicked glance over her shoulder to her High Priestess. “But I was of the Warrior caste before I became Queen. Would you care to spar with me?”
“What?”
Skye’s befuddlement was so humorous to Senta she could not resist. “Here, take my sword. When the Queen asks to spar, it’s not a request.”
Skye stepped into the room and took the sword from Senta. She took a stance and numbly raised her sword.
“Be careful,” Senta warned, “she is a devious opponent.”
That became apparent as the Queen lunged forward and Skye nearly went for the feint, barely recovering to block the real attack. Skye parried several thrusts and even managed a riposte. Her numbness was dissipating. Yes, she was training with the Queen of the Ha’kan, who wore the leather armor quite unlike any warrior Skye had ever seen, her lovely breasts a continual distraction. But Skye’s love of battle was coming into play, overcoming her awe and consternation of her opponent. And it was apparent the Queen was enjoying the battle as well, for Skye was an opponent who required more speed and dexterity than the average training partner. Their battle was pitched and lengthy, the passion intensified when the Queen would lock swords with the young Tavinter, pressing against her as a playful diversion, then laughingly pushing her away.
The skirmish was heated in many ways, and the spectators enjoyed that heat as much as the participants. At first, Senta watched the technique of the two with a critical eye. But when there was little to critique, she settled between the two Priestesses and took the flask of water that Helena offered.
“I should warn you, your Majesty,” she called out, “Skye has remarkable endurance.”
Skye blushed at the innuendo while the Queen took advantage of her distraction and pressed forward. Senta grinned, knowing she could fluster the Tavinter.
“And Skye, I should warn you that the Queen can outlast even me.”
Skye’s blush deepened, for this inference was even less veiled than the first.
“Not always,” Halla said, performing a brilliant combination that Skye barely defended against, “but I have my moments.”
The fight continued, as did Senta’s playful taunts, and finally it was too much for Skye. She stepped backward, out of range of the Queen’s sword, and dropped her weapon. “Enough!” She said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “I yield!”
“Ah,” Senta said with relish, “I think I see a training deficiency.”
“Well,” Skye muttered, “As I will never stand against the Ha’kan again, ‘tis an acceptable weakness.”
The Queen sheathed her weapon, her bosom heaving with exertion, and Skye sought to look anywhere but at Dallan’s mother. Her eyes settled on Astrid, which was worse, for the High Priestess looked at Skye with a combination of gentle sympathy and amusement. Skye bowed quickly to the three on the bench, then to the Queen.
“Forgive me, your Majesty, I—, I have to go train.” She stopped, trying to gather her muddled thoughts, then just gave up. “Elsewhere.”
The women were kind enough to control their laughter until Skye had scurried from the room and was out of earshot.
“That was arousing,” Helena commented. “I should watch swordplay more often.”
Senta took Helena by the hand. “I was a bit hard on Skye. She is fun to toy with because otherwise she is a daunting opponent.”
“You were merciless,” Astrid said, kissing, then patting Senta on the cheek. The High Priestess joined the Queen as the First General left with Helena on her arm.
Astrid handed Halla a towel to wipe the sweat from her brow.
“What?” the Queen asked at her knowing expression.
“You’re inching towards that finish line, aren’t you?”
The Queen laughed, not a bit put off by the observation. As far as she was concerned, it was only a matter of time before the girl shared her bed.
“As are you, my love,” Halla replied, an allegation that Astrid did not deny, either.
Lifa moved about her Ministry quarters, softly humming to herself. Freya and Ama, members of Lifa’s inner circle, sat on cushions and discussed the sexual development of several of their charges, comparing notes and making suggestions. Lifa smiled at the conversation, for the comments were gentle and loving, and once again convinced her she had chosen her staff wisely.
Leya, Freya’s twin, came in and was escorting a visitor. This was an honored guest, as was evident by the fact that Freya and Ama leaped to their feet, and Lifa’s entire countenance beamed her pleasure.
“Sable!” Lifa exclaimed, and went to hug the woman.
Sable embraced Lifa and Lifa held her hands, stepping back to look at her.
“You are beautiful as always,” Lifa said.
And Sable was beautiful. Beautiful and unique for the Ha’kan. Although the majority of Ha’kan were dark-haired, there were many color variations such as Lifa’s auburn hair or Gimle’s blonde hair. What was largely consistent was that the Ha’kan were all fair-skinned, the warriors being slightly sun-burnished due to their time outdoors.
But Sable’s skin was ebony, a variation that was highly unusual and prized within Ha’kan society. Sable’s mother possessed the same dark skin, but her grandmother was as fair as could be. The scholars had researched the phenomenon, but none had discovered the cause, and in the end, they determined the variation was simply a gift from Sjöfn. Sable’s mother had never felt the sting of prejudice, and had been treated the same as any other Ha’kan from birth, becoming a Scholar upon her graduation from the Academy. Her research was prized and she had even collaborated with the First Scholar on several projects. When her daughter was born with the same lovely skin, the Ha’kan rejoiced, and when her daughter came of age and chose the vocation of Priestess, they rejoiced even more.