Llewellyn’s Song (9 page)

“I was hoping to go home and do some cleaning,” said
Llewellyn, giving Sebring and Merlin a dirty look.

Branagh gave a short laugh, then shook his head. “I’m sorry
about your honeymoon,” he said. “If it’s any comfort to you, Melle has given
orders for dinner to be taken to your quarters. Why don’t you take Tamara to
your rooms? I’m sure you would like some time alone together before daybreak.”

Llewellyn was glad to get away. The look on Tamara’s face
when she’d realized she had to leave the next morning had pained him. He’d said
nothing though. She knew her own worth, and Branagh’s army was in desperate
need of scouts who knew the lay of the land north of Bald Pass. Tamara was a
godsend, and he could not begrudge her to his friend and king.

The room—or rooms, rather, as it was an apartment—were as
Melle promised—quiet. Set apart in the old part of the castle, they were not in
the fashionable wing. The apartment had a small vestibule where they hung their
cloaks, a bedroom with a fire already laid, and a bathroom with a copper tub
and hot and cold running water.

Llewellyn thought Tamara would appreciate that, but when he
mentioned that she snapped at him, saying that the d’ark t’uath had hot and
cold running water, thermal spring fed, and who did she think they were,
barbarians?

“I’m sorry. I don’t know much about your people,” he told
her. After a minute, when she didn’t reply, he added, “You’re not going to like
my house much. I have to go fetch my water from a well and heat it in the
chimney. I suppose I’m the barbarian.”

She kept her back to him, fiddling with the taps, running
first the hot water and then the cold. Her back spoke volumes to him. It said, “I’m
tired. I’m not happy. I’m not a barbarian. I’m pissed at you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She turned around and he saw he’d probably misread her.
Again. Her face was pale and traces of tears marred her cheeks. “I’m not angry
with you. I’m just a little overwhelmed, that’s all.” She bit her lip then
blurted out, “We have hot and cold running water but our bathtubs are made of
rock and they’re not half as luxurious as this.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” said Llewellyn, gathering her in
his arms. “I was really afraid you’d hate our house.”

She looked up at him. “You said our house. That’s the first
time you’ve called it that.”

“It sounds right, doesn’t it?” He had the absurd urge to
laugh. It did sound right. His arms tightened around her, and she tipped her
head up for a kiss. How could he resist? Somehow, in the middle of the kiss,
they overbalanced and fell into the tub.

The water wasn’t hot enough. Sputtering, Llewellyn pulled
Tamara out and then, because she was laughing too hard to be of any help, he
took her clothes off for her. He took his own off too. It was better when they
were both nude, he decided. He pressed his body to hers. Her skin was so smooth
and warm, and when they rubbed together he swore he could feel sparks. Her
breasts brushed up and down his chest, and her nipples hardened. He closed his
eyes, better to enjoy the sensation of her naked body against his. Their thighs
pressed together and his cock, now hard, speared her in the stomach. She
reached down and captured it in her hands, kneading and rubbing until his knees
started to tremble. And then he caught sight of the mirror.

The full-length mirror showed two elves, one in a definite
state of excitement, standing on a pile of wet clothes.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Tamara suggested. She glanced in
the mirror and raised her eyebrows. “The possibilities are endless, I agree.”

“If you get down on your hands and knees and turn this way,
I think the view will be…”

“Interesting. I’ve always wanted to see how I looked from
the back and in the throes of an orgasm,” Tamara said. Somehow Llewellyn didn’t
think she meant it.

“You don’t have to look.” He was wondering how he could get
her on her hands and knees before he came all over her. His cock was so stiff
he was afraid to touch it lest, like a popper-seed pod, it would explode. When
he was young he’d liked playing with those seed pods. The gentlest touch made
the pod burst apart and tiny seeds shoot forth.

Now he knew what that seed pod felt like.

Tamara knelt very slowly and gave a saucy wiggle with her
buttocks. She put her chin on her shoulder to look over her back at the mirror
and her eyebrows went even higher. “I didn’t know I was so sexy from this
angle,” she purred.

Llewellyn wanted to move, but he didn’t dare until he’d gotten
better control of himself. Then Tamara spread her legs.

“Look, I’m all wet,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

She was. Her sex glistened. His cock gave a twinge.
Llewellyn took a deep breath. Getting down on his knees behind her, he was
careful not to look in the mirror. When he slid his cock into her passage, he
couldn’t resist a glance to the side. A tall elf with an eye patch and rather
unkempt, long black hair arched over a curvaceous elf with long dark hair and
delightful breasts. As he watched, his hands crept up her sides and latched on to
the breasts.

“Oh, go gently!” she said. Then, when he thrust his cock into
her, “Go harder!”

He loved watching his cock slide in and out of her tight
sheath. Things got more and more slippery and exciting. Her nipples brushing
against his palms became hard little pebbles. Her back arched and she reached
between her legs and touched his balls.

“Gently,” he gasped. Her fingers massaged his balls in time
to his thrusts, and in the mirror he saw that she was touching her own clit,
rubbing her thumb against it.

He held off thrusting so he could watch that for a while.
But his buttocks contracted of their own accord, sending his cock plunging back
into her sex. Tamara let go of his balls and grabbed at her clit, arched her
back even more, and a stream of music left her throat.

He joined her a second later, elf song bursting from his
throat just as a jet of hot seed shot into Tamara’s womb. He held on to her
waist, his hips thrusting madly, their elf song rising in urgent harmony, then
falling into a gentle duet.

And he caught sight of his face. Yes, men looked half dazed,
half dim-witted when they came. He was glad to see Tamara had her eyes closed.

The bed was softer than he was used to, and so the night
passed slowly. He didn’t dare move though, for fear of waking Tamara. She’d
been so exhausted she’d barely touched her dinner, and she would need her
strength and rest. Somewhere in the wee hours she woke and clung to him and
they made love again. This time softly and gently, like the smallest of waves
breaking upon a calm shore. Their song was just a whisper in the night.

And then it was morning, and the trumpets sounded. Tamara
and Llewellyn said their goodbyes in private. Neither knew when they would meet
again, but no tears were shed. Now was the time for action and determination.

In the courtyard, Tamara’s team of scouts and messengers was
gathered. Llewellyn was glad to see that Merlin was part of her troop. Branagh
and Melle were there to bid them farewell. They would be following with the
bulk of the army within the week, if all went well and the weather held. The
sky was gray and heavy with snow. But that would not stop them. After crossing
Bald Pass, they would send news.

Tamara twisted around once on her horse to wave goodbye.
Then she rode off and didn’t look back. Llewellyn stood on the battlements
until she was lost from sight. As her troop vanished, the first snowflakes
began to fall.

Melle came to him and touched him lightly on the shoulder. “She
is a remarkable woman.”

Llewellyn nodded. He didn’t need to tell Melle that he
missed Tamara already. That seeing her ride away was like losing part of
himself. She knew. In less than a week Melle would be leaving Branagh to join
the archers, while Branagh would be at the head of his army, leading them all
to battle.

The air grew colder as he stood there, and he realized the
wind had turned and was out of the north. Everything, it seemed, was conspiring
against them.

“I’m going to the supply captain to check that everything is
set for the hospital tents.”

“I’ll see you for dinner tonight,” said Melle. She pulled
her cloak tighter around her shoulders. She too had noticed the change in wind.
Her eyes, as they scanned the sky, were dark with concern.

Llewellyn made his way through the city. The people were
subdued. They knew war was upon them. Their sons and husbands had armed
themselves and prepared to leave. Winter solstice was near, the festive season.
But not this year. This year the mistletoe and holly would go ungathered.
Tinsel and lights would stay packed in their boxes. The solstice gifts would be
practical and dangerous things this year—cloaks, bows and arrows, boots,
swords, knives and love knots made of hair.

Until the Mouse King was defeated once and for all, war would
once again haunt Hivernia. Llewellyn quickened his pace. The faster it was
over, the faster he would be with Tamara. He sent a silent prayer to whatever
gods might be listening, then, taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door to
the supply room.

For him, for Hivernia, the second war against the Mouse King
was about to begin.

The Scout

Tamara didn’t look back. If she had, her heart would have
broken. Instead, she gazed ahead between her horse’s pricked ears and studied
the landscape. The rising sun broke through the heavy cloud cover and sent
shafts of pale apricot light through the gray air. But the light was cold, and
flakes of snow began to drift through the air.

Merlin, on her left, was silent as well. Behind them, the
troop he’d assembled rode without speaking. There were no words that would
soften the day, or make the bleakness brighter. Everyone was alone with their
thoughts. The only sounds were the steady clopping of the horses’ hooves, and
in the city, the ringing sound of the forges as the smiths hammered out swords
and shields. The ringing would go on day and night now.

They left the city by the north gate and headed straight
across winter-bare fields. And still Tamara didn’t look back. Instead, she
began to plot the easiest way to her tribe’s valley, and then onward, ever
north.

The plain seemed endless, but all too soon the forest was
ahead and Tamara realized the sun was directly overhead. They had been riding
for hours. She was glad they’d given her a calm, steady horse. Her riding
skills were still rudimentary, and her legs and buttocks were starting to ache
dreadfully. She sighed. Her horse was not tired, but she was, and hunger
pinched her stomach. She was just about to call a halt when Merlin reined in
his horse. They had barely entered the forest, and the plain behind them was
just visible through the trees.

“Are we stopping to eat?” asked one of the troop members.
Gavin, Tamara thought his name was. There were five of them and she had just
met them that morning.

“No, someone is coming over the plains.” Merlin got off his
horse and drew his sword. “I don’t know if it is friend or foe but our mission
is secret, so we’d best hide. Go deeper into the forest and take the first path
to the right. You’ll find a grove of holly. Stay there and wait for me.”

Tamara started to say something along the lines of “I don’t
take orders from a male”, but she bit her tongue and nodded. Merlin and she
were both leaders of this troop. He had taken charge this time.

“Come,” she said to the men, and they galloped down the
path.

The holly grove was dense, and the dark green thorny leaves
made good cover. Red berries glowed brightly in the trees, making the scene
look festive. Tamara knew holly was prized for many things, being hard and
smooth-grained. At another moment, she would be searching for branches to cut
for arrows. But her heart wasn’t in it. She fiddled with her horse’s reins and
wondered why Merlin was taking so long. Surely he could turn away whatever
meddlesome person had followed them. The group of men obviously thought along
the same lines, because they started to wonder aloud what could be keeping
Merlin.

Hoofbeats alerted her to someone approaching. She held her
hand up for silence and the men behind her quieted. Merlin cantered into view,
his expression unfathomable.

“What is it?” she said, then caught sight of two other
riders, not far behind him. Her throat closed up. “Llewellyn,” she managed to
say.

“I suppose Branagh let you go,” said Merlin. They had made
camp and were sitting around a small fire, grilling their meat on a skewer.
This would be their only warm meal for the day. At night it would be too risky
to light a fire.

“No. He wanted me to stay.” Llewellyn looked bleakly at the
fire, then smiled at Tamara. “I told him I’d be there for the first battle,
that I’m not much use until the wounded start arriving. He finally agreed. It
took Melle’s intervention to convince him to let me go, however. Otherwise I
wouldn’t be here at all.”

“What about you, Sebring? What’s your excuse? Aren’t you
supposed to be with the archers?” Merlin didn’t sound angry with his twin.
Instead, Tamara heard relief in his voice.

“Well, you’re supposed to be with the archers too, don’t
forget. Just because you’re off on a vacation trip north…” Sebring’s words
trailed off and he gave a little cough. “I wanted to go with you at least part
of the way to see for myself what was happening. My men are highly trained, we
don’t need to shoot arrows at targets. Actually, I told them all to go home,
say their goodbyes and get ready for battle. Some of them hadn’t been home in
months.”

“That was a wise move,” said Llewellyn. “But some may not
come back, you know.”

“I know. It’s a chance I had to take.” Sebring shrugged. “I
have a feeling my men will be waiting for me though. All of them.”

Tamara’s hand crept out and found Llewellyn’s. “I’m glad you
came,” she said. It was incredible how light her heart felt now that he was
here beside her. The war and all its possible horrors receded. Alone, she was
just half a person now. But with Llewellyn she was complete.

“We’re in this together, all of us,” she said, and the men
looked at her and nodded.

They ate lunch and were on their way before the hour had
gone. The whole afternoon and evening would be spent riding, and then the night
would be spent camped in the dark, hidden in some cold corner of the great
woods. But she would have Llewellyn beside her, his cloak over her shoulders,
his arms around her body, keeping her warm. Her cheeks grew hot at the thought
and Llewellyn, riding beside her, gave a soft chuckle.

“I can read your thoughts,” he said in a whisper.

“Then you know how much I love you,” she said.

“I know how much I’m glad I came along.” His horse jostled
against hers, his knee brushing her leg. “I’m coming with you when you go to
see your tribe. I’ll speak to your clan mother myself. She’ll listen to me
because Branagh has given me a scroll for her. It will tell her the truth of
what’s going on. After we’re done I’ll take you with me to the healing tents
and we’ll stay together for the battle. All right?”

Llewellyn’s presence might save her from the punishment of
leaving the tribe. Her clan mothers were not stupid. Such a great threat meant
they had to join forces with Hivernia. Tamara thought of her kinswomen, who
would certainly be fighting alongside Branagh’s troops. But she knew Llewellyn
would be mad with worry if she fought in the battle. “All right,” she said. And
at those words, she knew her fate was sealed. They would stay together. It was
meant to be. As the sun dipped below the trees and the forest grew dark she
knew she’d made the right decision. She and Llewellyn would be together for all
time.