The High King: Book Two of the 'Riothamus' trilogy (37 page)

“Tents and
bedding are erected, and even now meals are being prepared,” Druec
replied.

Darven turned
to his friend and king, “My lord Arantur…we await only your order
to fall out.”

Aran nodded,
tiredly dismounting from where he had been slumped in the saddle,
“Do so Darven. I for one cannot go a step further…”

Stumbling,
leaning wearily upon Alissa’s shoulder, Aran finally reached the
king’s tent and fell heavily upon the bed, his face grey with
exhaustion and grief.

Alissa knelt
down and gently began to work free the stiff buckles of the armour.
Slowly, feeling like a woman three times her age, she managed to
one by one detach the armour pieces, and pile them in a corner of
the tent.

Aran pulled
himself to a seated position, “Alissa, don’t. One of the rested
soldiers should be doing this. Not you…you are as tired as I.”

Alissa shook
her head, “Let me do this much for you Aran.”

Aran stared at
her blearily and nodded, “As you wish my love.”

Finally, the
last of Aran’s armour was stacked away, and Alissa bent over to
shake off her own light mail hauberk. Wearily she picked it up, and
placed it next to Aran’s pile of blood and gore flecked armour.

Sitting on the
bed, she pulled off her boots and tiredly unbraided her messy
plaits, and with her fingers, combed free the worst of the tangles.
Aran, with the last of his strength, pulled over his head the dark
blue, rust marked gambeson and slumped tiredly, dressed only in his
plain wool tunic and hosen.

“Those ought
to go too,” Alissa said pointing to his tunic and hosen. “They
smell of oil and sweat and worse…come, I will help you.”

Aran looked up
tiredly at her, “Will you leave me no modesty, love?”

Smiling, she
shook her head at that, whilst quickly and efficiently stripping
him until he was sitting naked on the blankets.

“Now into
bed…”

Aran
obediently swung his long legs up and Alissa covered him with the
blankets and furs.

Bending over,
she placed a light kiss upon his lips, and then gently pushed back
strands of his lank blond hair which had fallen across his
face.

“Sleep now my
love…” she whispered gently. “I will soon return.”

Aran nodded
and closed his eyes; within a heartbeat he was asleep.

Alissa stood
and stretched wearily. She was more tired than she had ever been
before in her life but still she had one more task to complete
before she too could rest.

*

“How is he,
daughter?”

Captain Taran
was overseeing the last of the Guardsmen to their tents, when he
espied Alissa with hair unbound, walking serenely barefoot towards
him through the melting snow and frost-burnt grass.

“Asleep at
last…I have only just left him.”

The Captain of
the Guard nodded at that then looked narrowly at his golden haired
daughter. “Every day Alissa, you look more and more like your
mother. You have much of the plains in you.”

Alissa smiled,
“She must have been a remarkable woman.”

A flicker of
past sorrow passed over the old soldier’s face, “Aye lass, she
was…” Then he looked up, “You will of course stay with him?”

Alissa nodded,
“I have come to ask for your leave, father.”

“It is given,”
he said simply, understanding at last that his child had grown into
a woman. “Do what you can to ease his pain,” he said gruffly. “You
are the only person in this whole land who may be able to bring our
king back to himself.”

“Aye,” she
replied then glanced across at her father.

“Do you
remember how I said that I must come on this war, how my magepower
demanded it of me.”

He nodded.

Alissa turned,
and glanced back towards the King’s tent, “I think I know why.”

Captain Taran
smiled grimly, “I believe you are to be his strength. His
sanity”

“Aye,” she
replied then stepping forward gave her father a hug.

“I do not
regret any of this…” she said gravely. “You do know I could have
made other choices, made my life quieter, simpler…”

Taran stared
at his daughter, “Druec? I often wondered why you did not allow his
advances whilst we were in Sentinal that last time.”

Alissa
shrugged, her face wooden, “I had my reasons,” she replied.
“Besides I had already met Aran. I
knew
that there was no
other man for me after that meeting.”

“You believe
it was fore destined?” Taran asked, incredulous.

“Aye, I have
seen the Goddess’s hand in this,” Alissa firmly replied.

Captain Taran
took his daughter’s tanned hands in his mailed clasp, and gently
placed a kiss of kinship upon her brow.

“Then may the
Goddess and Andur’s name protect you daughter,” Trevan said
gently.

Alissa felt
her eyes moisten as she heard the ancient, formal words of
farewell.

“Ride a safe
road father,” she whispered the reply. “May Andur ride with
you.”

*

Aran was
deeply asleep when she returned, her saddlebags and gear clasped
firmly in her arms. Quietly she unloaded her belongings to a spare
corner of the tent, then turning to a large jug, poured water into
the washing bowl and thoroughly washed her face and hands clean of
the grime of travel and war. Going to the tent door, she loosened
the clasps which held it open and let the heavy canvas swing shut,
bringing with it a gentle half darkness. Finally she turned, and
shed her own soiled garments until she stood pale and naked by the
bed. Staring down at the sleeping man, Alissa knew only a moment’s
hesitation, before her own mind and heart truly convinced herself
of the rightness of her actions, and she climbed into the bed
beside Aran. Lying down close beside him, she drew up the covers
against the creeping cold and let the welcome clasp of sleep
finally claim her.

*

Aran did not
know how long he slept, but some time later the dreams began.

He was
fighting again, and all around him the Thakur were moving upon him,
as insubstantial as spirits borne upon the wind. Suddenly the
Thakur were gone, and he seemed to be fighting his own men, even
within his dream he recognised them as being the ones lost from
Wolf Company. They were advancing upon him, swords raised against
him, their pale, dead faces seemed to accuse him, blame him for
their dying. Within his dream he felt himself casting down the
King’s Sword, to hold up his hands against their advance, all the
time crying out for mercy. Suddenly, he saw a figure appear at his
side and he looked up to see a tall, stern, blond-braided man lift
the King’s Sword from the blood-soaked battleground, and hold it
out to him. Aran gazed in fearful recognition at the older man,
then at the spirits of the dead Guard who had stopped their
terrible advance.

‘Will you not
fight this war for me?’ Aran asked simply.

The other
shook his head, ‘you are the only one, my son,’ he replied
regretfully. ‘This is your fight. Your power must sustain us
all…’

Aran sadly
took back the sword, and watched as the figure of the great
Warleader faded back into the darkness of the plain. As Andur faded
away, Aran noticed that the fallen Guardsmen were now kneeling,
their heads bent and swords sheathed.

‘You must
command them lord,’ came another voice from the darkness.

Aran turned,
and saw Alissa walk out of the darkness and the battle. Dressed
like a plainsman, she was bareheaded and her hands were empty of a
weapon, despite the war which raged about them.

‘They wait for
your leave to go, Aran,’ she said gently. ‘They are held to this
place by your imagined guilt, and their great love for you. You
need to command them to go and find peace’.

Deep in the
dream Aran nodded, and turned to the Guardsmen.

‘You have
fought well this day…rest easy, your deaths have been avenged.’

Silently they
bowed their heads and turned. Like Andur they vanished into the
heavy darkness of the plain.

Aran turned
back to Alissa and met her gentle green eyes, ‘I have a task to
do,’ he stated.

She nodded,
and then replied simply ‘You must lead us out of the darkness.’

Aran looked
about, the battlefield had faded and he stood with Alissa in the
middle of a trackless dark forest.

‘How will I
find the way in the darkness?’ he asked plaintively.

‘Look for the
path,’ she replied. ‘Don’t fear. I will be with you in the
searching…’

Then the dream
faded, and Aran slept again.

*

It was fully
dark when Aran woke and opened his eyes. For a moment he was
disorientated about where he slept, and the time of day, but
memories slowly seeped back, and he remembered the battle and the
long, exhausting ride back to camp. He went to sit up, and
immediately became aware of a warm figure occupying the near side
of his bed. The cold darkness did not give instant recognition, but
Aran reasoned that the figure beside him could only be one person
in this large camp of male soldiers.

“Alissa?” he
whispered, whilst putting a hand out to suddenly encounter the
silky, smooth curve of a naked hip. But Alissa did not wake, so
desperately tired had she been that her body did not rouse at that
first gentle, tentative touch. Aran lay back puzzled, whirling
thoughts filling his mind. He did not recall Alissa coming to bed.
He certainly did not recall if things had happened between them
earlier on. Surely he would have remembered if…

He pulled his
thoughts away, and instead became acutely aware about how his body
was responding to the nearness of a naked woman in his bed. Wryly
shaking his at the audacity of his betrothed, Aran put out a hand
again to run it gently across Alissa’s smooth, naked curves. Gently
he inched himself closer until his tall body spooned hers.

Breathing
raggedly at the full contact, Aran put his arm across her and his
hand gently caressed her body. Immediately he was filled with an
urgent demand for her, and he bent to nuzzle the lobes of her ear.
At the touch Alissa woke and half turned, her mouth meeting
his.

“Aran?” she
whispered against his lips, “Are you well now?”

Aran laughed
gently, “Better than you could ever realise, my heart. Yet I should
tell you that you are very bold for coming here, and being
here…now.”

“I could do
nothing else,” she replied simply, “For it is what we both have
wanted for a very long time.”

“Shhh,” he
advised, “Let’s not talk…”

Then his mouth
covered hers and they kissed deeply, hungrily…

The night grew
very dark and quiet, but for the young couple in the tent, all that
existed was the wonder and excitement of the now. Gently they
caressed until they were both in a fever pitch of emotion and
sensation. Then it was Alissa’s turn and her gentle, hesitant touch
upon his body was bringing even Aran to his tenuous limits of
self-control.

“Now!” gasped
Aran, feverishly and impatiently turning to pull himself fully upon
her.

In a daze of
sensation and desire, Alissa accepted his weight, and felt his
hard, probing touch. She had expected the sudden, brief pain of
lost virginity but nothing that Kiaia had told her could have
prepared her for the waves of feeling and sensation that were
coursing through her body. Alissa moaned, and heard an answering
moan from Aran above her. Bathed in sensation, Alissa lost herself
in the movements of their joined bodies, centering her inmost
thoughts upon him and the rising tide of pleasure that was filling
her mind and body. Aran in the darkness above her, could not see
the blissful smile upon her face…he too was lost in desire and
sensation. Oblivious to everything except the feel of her and the
demanding urges of his body…

As they rose
towards climax, Aran realised that part of himself was uncurling,
loosening, and for the second time in as many weeks, he melded
magepower with Alissa. On the joining he immediately felt her power
and the latent Earthmage Ability deep within her core. Alissa too
experienced the merging and as they came together, they became more
than physically joined; it seemed too that their spiritual essences
had flowed into each other…

*

Panting and
gasping they rolled apart, each one immediately needing to come to
terms with what had happened.

“By…Andur,”
Aran gasped, “That was…” his voice dwindled, unable to find the
words.

Alissa rolled
onto her side, feeling a new soreness.

“I don’t think
that was usual,” Alissa whispered back. “I wonder if all mages
experience that when they mate with each other.”

Aran shook his
head, “I felt you fully…knew your Ability as if it were my
own.”

Alissa stared
silently into the darkness. For a moment, she too had experienced
the intimate dark horror of Aran’s Warriormage Ability, and had
been shocked at the extent of the pain and rage deep within
him.

“How do you
bear it?” she asked at last, propping herself up on her elbow.

“Bear what?”
Aran was still coming down from their lovemaking.

“Being a
Warriormage,” she told him. “I felt your Ability when
that…thing…happened.”

Aran lay back
to better formulate his words, “I don’t know Alissa…I’ve come to
accept it. I mean it is part of me now. Most of the time I am aware
of it; it’s rather like a background headache…sometimes if you
ignore it, it goes away.” He frowned, “At times I can’t control it.
I mean during the battle it took me over completely and for many
hours afterwards I was not myself.” Then he grinned, “I would never
have believed it possible, but the lovemaking helped. This is the
calmest I’ve felt in days. At the end…” he shook his head, unable
to describe the feeling, “All I know is that it’s loosened. It’s
not so hard to bear now.” He sat up and kissed her lightly on the
lips, “Thank you….”