Blaze shook his head, his smile fading, his eyes taking on a haunted expression. “I saw such things. Your suffering. Unlike our noble leader of swords and sewing needles, I cannot bury what I feel. Mahir waited in silent agony, that I knew. But I had to do something. Alas, that’s why he is our leader and I wear the sash of the weaponless warrior.” Blaze looked almost apologetic.
“My life.”
Torn placed a hand on one of Blaze’s broad shoulders. “You truly serve, Blaze. Not many in this Order have the courage to wear that sash.”
“What courage?” Blaze shrugged. “I must live with the souls I take. I must hear them, see them.” Blaze stared past Torn for such a long time that Honey Wine glanced over her own shoulder, wondering what had captured his attention, but the corridor was empty. Blaze shook his head and turned to Honey Wine with a charming smile. “A Mistress who’ll rule with a just hand and compassionate heart. You and Torn are well matched.” He took her hand and bowed over it. “Sweet Liquid. Your father is proud.”
“Thank you…I think.” Honey Wine returned the strange Knight’s smile.
“Honey Wine and I will be married tonight, Blaze. Will you witness?”
“Only barred doors would keep me away.” Blaze laughed. “When the time is right, dissipation of innocence is beautiful.”
He released Honey Wine’s hand carefully and continued down the hall. He paused and turned back to Torn. “Don’t punish yourself over Redly’s death. He bears you no ill will.”
Blaze disappeared up the steps, and Honey Wine looked at Torn. “What in the name of the Twin Goddesses was he talking about?”
“Most of the time I still haven’t the faintest idea. He sees things not of this world. Spirits of the dead talk to him. They’re constantly with him, and he can’t always tell what is flesh and what is vision. As a child, he was considered mad by his parents and sent to live with us, but I assure you he’s as rational as you or I. He just sees more. It makes him difficult to understand, but his heart is pure.”
“Why does he wear that green sash?”
“He’s a true healer. Those of our Order who wear that sash carry no weapons, even in battle. Their only function is to heal. Oh, they’re very skilled in empty-handed fighting, but they prefer never to fight at all. You won’t see many of those sashes.”
“I can understand why.” Honey Wine shook her head at the idea of entering battlefields weaponless. Then she turned her thoughts to the coming night. “So what are weddings like here?”
* * * * *
The marriage ceremony took place late that night in the courtyard. Mage’s sister, Iris, who was visiting from their home village and was about Honey Wine’s height, loaned her a floor-length tunic of pale blue. After slipping into the garment, Honey Wine sat on a stool in her chamber while Iris braided her hair.
“This is so exciting,” Iris said. “Weddings are rare here. Some of the Knights marry, but most of them spend their lives traveling and doing other…Knightly things…My mother keeps hoping Mage will marry.”
Honey Wine glanced in the mirror at Iris’s reflection behind her. Like Mage, she was tall and slim with a waist-length mass of wavy red hair. Freckles sprinkled her pert nose, and her lips were dark, cherry red. She wasn’t beautiful, but exuded charm that made her more attractive than pretty-faced women.
“Are you married?” Honey Wine asked.
Iris laughed. “No. I’ve always been a bit boyish. I’ve never mastered the art of flirtation. Unfortunately.”
“Neither have I, but Torn doesn’t seem to care.”
“Torn’s very sweet. He looks past the surface of everything and everyone.”
She laughed again. “I think my mother arranged for me to visit Mage hoping I’d find a husband among all these fine Knights. They’re a decent enough bunch, but not all of them are as true to their vows as Torn. Mage’s friend Warrant, for instance. The man is a master of flirtation, and my own brother is no better.”
“So you haven’t found a potential mate here?” Honey Wine smiled.
The slightest blush crept into the sharp ridges of Iris’s cheekbones. “There is one, but he wouldn’t be interested in me.”
“Who is it?”
“I couldn’t. I’d feel silly.”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
Iris took her full lower lip between her teeth and thought for a moment before saying, “Sir Rain.”
Honey Wine smiled at her. “Rain is very nice. Have you approached him at all?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t. I’d end up making a fool of myself. I’m fine around men if I’m riding or hunting, you know, like one of them. But to approach one as a woman…” Iris shook her head.
“Rain is hardly intimidating. He seems to like riding. Go riding with him.”
Iris didn’t speak of Rain again as she finished with Honey Wine’s hair.
A tap sounded on the door, and as the women stepped outside, Blaze awaited them. He’d attempted to bind his wild auburn locks at his nape, but random pieces escaped the leather strip and sprang in several directions.
“I’m to be your escort, Sweet Liquid.” He offered Honey Wine his arm, which she accepted hesitantly. She found his strange ways unsettling, but she trusted his large, opal eyes.
“My name is Honey Wine,” she told him.
“Of course, Sweet Liquid, Mead. A fitting name for gentle amber eyes. This marriage will be good. Very good. Spirits whispered of your courage and strength. You’ve reached the unreachable, breached the chaste defenses of the pure-hearted.”
Honey Wine glanced over her shoulder at Iris who followed behind them.
The young woman dipped her head in Blaze’s direction and shrugged, confused by the Knight. Honey Wine repressed laughter and continued walking to the courtyard.
As they stepped outside, Honey Wine stared in wonder at the beauty of the place. Black garbed Knights and their families assembled along the round walls of the courtyard. Hundreds of candles lined the cobblestone walkway leading from the great hall to the gate. Two rows of Knights stood behind the candles.
At her approach, they drew their slender, straight swords and raised them, creating a tunnel of glistening silver. In the center of the walk, Mahir and Torn awaited her, the older man shadowed by Torn’s height. Firelight reflected in Torn’s eyes, and Honey Wine saw him draw a deep breath and smile as she walked toward him, still holding Blaze’s arm.
When she reached the center of the courtyard, Blaze took her hand and Torn’s, placing them together before stepping aside.
Honey Wine smiled up at Torn as Mahir spoke the words that bound them forever.
“We’re here to witness the union of Torn and Honey Wine. They’ve been joined by the Spirit and have accepted that joining. With the strength of the Spirit, I bless them as husband and wife.” Mahir glanced at the couple. “Torn, do you promise to be Honey Wine’s husband until the Spirit reclaims your soul?”
“Yes, I promise.” Torn’s eyes bore so deeply into Honey Wine’s that she nearly missed her part of the vows.
“Honey Wine, do you promise to be Torn’s wife until the Spirit reclaims your soul?”
“Yes, I promise.” Her hand tightened on Torn’s.
“I, Mahir of the Ruby Order, stand as witness and mediator between your souls and the Spirit. You are, from this day forward, husband and wife.”
Cheers sounded from the onlookers on the wall, and Mahir and Blaze embraced the couple. The clink of steel sounded through the courtyard as the Knights along the walkway raised their swords. Torn and Honey Wine walked to the great hall followed by Mahir, Blaze, and the other guests.
Food was spread on the tables inside, and everyone laughed, ate, and drank.
Torn and Honey Wine sat with Mahir, Blaze, and Rain. Within moments, Mage, Warrant, and Iris joined them. Honey Wine discreetly motioned for Iris to sit beside Rain.
“Watch out, Rain.” Mage chuckled from across the table. “Iris might chop off your hand to get at the food. Ever since she was a child she’s had a mean appetite for a skinny girl.”
“I think your sister is a lovely woman, Sir Mage,” Honey Wine said.
“Course she is.” Mage lifted his wineglass. “Runs in the family.”
“Not only that, what do you mean by calling her skinny?” Torn’s eyes glistened with humor. “My wife’s wearing one of her dresses.”
Mage threw back his head and laughed. “I’d best keep quiet and eat.”
“A wise idea.” Rain smiled in Iris’s direction. “Has he always been a fool, missy, or has he acquired the skill since joining the Order?”
Iris blinked several times at Rain, and Honey Wine nudged her.
“Yes,” she smiled wickedly in Mage’s direction, “he’s always been a fool.”
Rain laughed and offered Iris a glass of wine.
Happy at her first attempt ever at matchmaking, Honey Wine looked at Torn. Beneath the table, he reached for her hand. Neither ate much that night and excused themselves early.
“Honey Wine,” Rain called as she followed Torn out of the great hall. She glanced back at the Knight, and he winked. “Be gentle with him.”
Torn shot him a look of death, and Honey Wine laughed. Knights were certainly strange creatures.
Torn took her hand as they walked down the corridor to his chamber. His palm felt warm and rough against hers, and her heart leapt at the thought that within moments, she’d be pressed to the heat of his body. Marrying him was like a fantasy, one she knew might end all too soon should he be discovered when he and the others breached the palace guard at Sophianna.
Don’t think
about that now
, she told herself.
Tonight is for us to be happy.
“You know I’ve never seen your room before,” she said as he unlocked the door.
“It’s not much.” He smiled. “We don’t keep many things.”
They stepped inside, and while he crossed the room to rekindle the fire, Honey Wine glanced around. It wasn’t much larger than the chamber she’d been given. There was a bed in one corner with a trunk at the foot of it. On top of the trunk sat a basin and pitcher of water. A chair and a small, round table stood by the fire. Two books rested on the table, and a sword and several daggers were mounted above the mantle. No rug covered the floor, and as she slipped off her boots, the smooth stones felt cold beneath her feet. She shivered.
Torn glanced over his shoulder from where he squatted in front of the hearth. “It’ll warm up now that the fire’s going.”
“I’m sure we’ll make our own heat.” She smiled and slid her arms around his neck from behind, her palms smoothing over his hard, strong chest beneath the black silk.
He took her hands in his and guided her to the front of him as he stood. His mouth descended on hers in a kiss so passionate she was almost taken by surprise. She closed her eyes and clung to him as his soft lips opened against hers. His tongue traced the shape of her lips, then slipped inside to taste hers.
He explored every inch of her mouth, his every stroke a heady mixture of tenderness and lust.
She felt his fingers loosen her braid and sift through her hair, spreading it over her shoulders. His palms splayed against her back and held her closer.
Honey Wine’s breasts pressed to the hardness of his chest, and her entire body felt as if it had turned to liquid. She wondered how much longer her legs would continue to support her, but she needn’t have worried. Torn swept her into his arms, his mouth never breaking contact with hers, and carried her to the bed.
He placed Honey Wine on her back, and she stared up at him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
She smiled. “Until the Spirit reclaims our souls.”
He traced the shape of her face with his fingertip, touched her eyebrows and lips.
“I want to make you happy,” he said.
“You do.”
He stood, walked to the fire, and gazed at the flames. Honey Wine sat up, watching him.
“Honey Wine, I have a confession of sorts.”
“Oh, no.” She tensed. “What now?”
He shook his head. “Nothing terrible, at least I don’t think it is, unless it proves to be a problem tonight, but if it does, it won’t last long. I learn fast.”
A smile played around her mouth. “Torn, you’re starting to sound like Blaze.
You’ve lost me completely.”
His eyes remained on the fire. The snapping sound of burning wood filled the otherwise silent room.
Finally he said, “I’ve never… I haven’t actually had intercourse with a woman.”
His words took her slightly aback. After this morning, she’d expected some horrible confession, like he didn’t really love her. It had never entered her mind that Torn was a virgin – especially after all the times they’d kissed and fondled each other and all the times he’d given her such marvelous orgasms. Still, looking back, the only time he’d ever climaxed with her had been when he was under the control of the aphrodisiac, and even then, his desire to penetrate her had been almost tangible, yet he’d refrained.
“Well,” she couldn’t help smiling, “I wish I could claim to be as pure, but there were a couple of men when I was in the guard. . . “
He shook his head. “You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want to know.”
Honey Wine stood, and he drew her into his embrace. She rested her head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat.
“Are you disappointed?” he asked.
“No. Not at all. A bit surprised. You’re a handsome man, Torn. Surely there was some woman?”
“We take a vow of abstention here. Sexual intercourse is allowed only after marriage. It’s an old custom and isn’t enforced so strictly anymore, provided discretion is used.”
“But you’ve upheld that vow – or tried to?” She shook her head. “I know you have. How awful it must have been for you in the prison, between my sister pawing you, the two of us forced into those disgusting mating rituals. All that time you tried to hold onto that custom of yours.”
“I think it’s a good custom. And I’m glad the only woman I’ve ever felt complete physical pleasure with is you.”