Shadow Over Avalon (9 page)

“Say now if you want me to stop.” His eyes were deep, dark pools.

Candlelight rippled over his naked body. Ashira looked at him, all of him, wanting him to stay and do whatever he wished with her. That strange feeling in her belly started. She reached up to touch those mobile lips of his. He caught her hand, kissing the palm and licking each of her fingers while his knee parted her thighs in a gentle way. Then another deep kiss ended in a gasp when his hands roamed.

“Ashira? Shall I continue?” Uther brushed her lips with one fingertip, tracing the outline.

She caught his finger, drawing it into her mouth, wanting to taste him.

“I’ll take that for a yes.”

“Shadow survived to join the Elite.” Arthur aimed his defiance at a bank of winking lights in the gray console. He had the great telepathic control well beyond the limitations of any other; if the elders found out about his research of the Outcast, Sanctuary would have a lever to force him into the initiate program immediately. But if he wanted to leave the city, he would need more information from someone who knew how to live on the surface world and in Avalon.

“Speculation within futile circumstances results in reduction of perspective,” the Archive returned. “The subject lowered expectations to preserve logical thought processes.”

“Biological intelligence has other resources.” Could Arthur lower his standards to obey Sanctuary dictates? No. He wanted more from life than this sequestered existence.

Since his time reviewing Shadow, he had begun to question the rules and practices more and more. At the point of playback, logic told him this pleasant young woman didn’t bear any resemblance to the evolved individual under study. So he had to seek out what factor, or accumulation of factors, had caused such a drastic change in personality.

“Archive, why did she leave her mate? I had the impression they reached an understanding.”

“This action was not one of her choice.”

“Did she quarrel with that priest?” Arthur strolled over to the solitary chair. “What sort of power did he have? Can you explain this religion?”

Another bank of lights winked on at the console. “Harvesters are the same beings known to you as Nestines. The Overworld is their hunting ground, the Terrans, their prey. They control the minds of their ‘herd’ to the point where they are invisible, using priests to communicate their wishes to their victims. It is possible priests are empty vessels for the direction of power, such as you have already witnessed. Do you remember what the discharge of a priest’s stick smelled like, Arthur?”

He remembered the scent of flowers, the sharp tang of animals, and the image, but not the smell of the calf’s destruction. All the colors and textures served to remind him of what his life currently lacked. How pathetic that he was reduced to sneaking into a tiny room to steal images from another person’s memories. The call of the surface world snagged his soul.

“The next part of our subject’s life contains a similar situation. Why don’t you refresh your memory? I will not permit any to disturb us.” A port slid open to release the umbilicus. It emerged without aiming toward Arthur, appearing content to wait.

Arthur hesitated. “I am still not trained for contact, Archive. Am I at risk of addiction?” Maybe he was looking for an excuse not to continue; he didn’t want to see a life destroyed, much less experience it along with the victim.

“What if you were already addicted? Would we be having this conversation?”

Arthur drew in a deep breath to smell nothing in the bland air of Avalon, knowing he would have to make his escape from Sanctuary soon if he chose this path. The Archive hinted at the reason the Outcast had begun her new existence. Perhaps this session would be the one to help him understand how to survive on the surface. He brushed aside the hair behind his ear to expose his outlet port for the umbilicus.

*

Earth Date 3874

Ashira woke in the early morning according to the time candle at her bedside, which had burned down to the third notch from its holder. Memories of the night before sent blood rushing to her face, yet a feeling of pleasure remained. Uther, the man, had demanded and received a responsive lover.

In sleep, the duke appeared almost boyish at her side, with long, dark lashes feathering his cheeks, his age betrayed by the rough beginnings of a beard. His bare chest, crisscrossed with mute testaments of past conflicts sliced into curling black hair, reminded her of an earlier promise given when he treated her wound. She thought again how strange it was that he hadn’t visited a priest before scars became inevitable. She traced a line near his heart with one finger. A change in his breathing made her look up. He watched her with a half-awake smile.

“Well, wildcat? Have I pulled your fangs?” His eyes began to glitter as sleep retreated.

“Yes.” She blushed at the raking look he gave her. “I wish only that our union had been arranged in the normal manner.”

“I don’t. How many rulers have a wife who leaps into danger when her man is threatened? I know my War Maid isn’t going to plant her dagger in my chest when I sleep. How many others sleep so well? Did you know Alsar’s third queen took an unholy interest in herbs until he forced her to drink the tonic she offered him? The results, I understand, were quite spectacular. She gave excellent examples of foaming at the mouth and drumming her heels before she died.”

“How many rulers wait so patiently for their women to return their love?” Ashira countered.

“I had no inclination to force a virgin. Had you behaved, or responded differently, I would not have pressed my attentions last night.” Uther stretched his lean body.

Unaccountably, for a second she imagined she could see his thoughts: in his present mood, she could ask anything. Curiosity goaded her to see if this peculiar side effect of their lovemaking bore results, or if he would evade her previous question.

“Is it true that you encourage Black Bands?”

Uther reached out to cup her cheek making her face him. His eyes narrowed a little and one eyebrow raised.

“Lady, I am not sure whether you most resemble a child or a butterfly, the way your mind flits from one subject to the next. To ask such a question now . . . Yes, they’re welcome to winter here, as you’ll see. They have their uses.”

“Which are . . . ?”

“My wildcat still has claws. Chastisement is called for.” He moved with the fluid grace of a warrior, trapping her, stopping her questions with kisses.

Ashira dissolved in waves of pleasure as his loving became purposeful. He gave no quarter. Her tender lover of the night had a score to settle. His laughter echoed around their darkened chamber when his victory became absolute.

*

Sounds of Tadgell stirring wakened Uther later. He brushed a tendril of hair from his bride’s face, waking her and making him sorry to leave a warm bed and a willing woman.

“I’ve half a mind to insist on face veils.” He frowned. “My woman is far too lovely for others’ eyes. Join me for breakfast in my business room as quickly as you can.” Uther hurried with his washing and dressing, wanting her again, yet concerned he might scare her.

He strode to his business room in the hope of getting some work done before she arrived to torment his senses. At the threshold, he called to a passing server for two plates of bread and cheese. Uther had just settled at his desk when his second-in-command, Alvic, poked his head around the door.

“There is an Outcast scouting around near Tadgell,” Alvic said, one hand straying to the hilt of his sword. “Our morning patrol found a freshly abandoned camp.”

Uther pulled out a chart of his territory, a sense of unease growing. “Where?” Alvic leaned over the desk to point out a sheltered valley with easy access to Tadgell.

The place wasn’t near a trade route and that disturbed him. “Is he one we know?”

“He’s one I wouldn’t want to fight alone. Remember Copper from two winters back?”

Uther pictured the auburn-haired Outcast and the man’s skill with a blade. His unease grew branches. “I don’t recall him causing any upset during his stay.” He gestured at the empty chair near the door, and Alvic sat.

“When he wasn’t training with you, he worked in the forge. A couple of the girls chased after him, but he made sure never to be alone with them.” Alvic looked at the ground. “And there’s something else. Lerrys said Copper was at Menhill while you were there. He spotted him riding out with one of their patrols. Now why would Hald need an Outcast? He isn’t in conflict with anyone, and neither does he have a saurian problem.”

Fear took root. “Are you saying my woman is a traitor?” She had seemed so calm the day her father traded her. He’d taken her attitude for courage, but now he wondered. “She almost died fighting saurians.”

Alvic, looked up, his eyes narrowed. “What if Copper is here to snatch her back? Hald didn’t come out of his side of the bargain smelling sweet. The High King isn’t going to like his treating a Gold Band woman like a bag of turnips, even if he did have kin right.”

“Get ten of our best men and two large fishnets,” said Uther, deciding against shackles. Catching an Outcast without hurting him was one problem, but holding him always brought a swarm of his Brethren howling for blood. “You look after Tadgell, and I’ll deal with the Outcast. He’s more likely to hear me out first, before he starts fighting.”

“Are you going to take the g— duchess?”

“No. She is learning how to schedule rosters, so keep her busy. I don’t want her near Copper.”

Ashira and breakfast arrived together. Alvic stood and bowed, excusing himself. She took the recently vacated seat while the server placed the plates of bread and cheese on his desk. He didn’t know how to tell her he intended to leave her behind. Uther knew she would never forgive him if he made her appear weak.

He took a deep breath. “I am riding out, but I’ll organize all the rosters I haven’t already given to you for the next week. It shouldn’t prove a problem to oversee, and you’ll have my headman, a Silver, to help with any discipline matters.” He broke his bread, not wanting to see the hurt in her eyes. “I am also leaving you with my second in command, Alvic, in case of attack. I am assuming you studied defense tactics. Alvic will take responsibility for the mines, but I don’t think I’ll be gone for more than a week at the most.”

“When will you leave, my lord?”

Ashira’s frosty tone hurt him more than he wanted to admit. “Lady, I didn’t plan this as a personal insult. I have a report of an Outcast watching Tadgell, and since he is one we know, I would have expected him to visit us. He is very dangerous. I can’t sit here waiting for a strike. I have to track him down now that I have you here to take responsibility.”

“Is that all, my lord?” Ashira turned to the door.

“No, and don’t take that tone with me. Come here.” He extended a hand, but when she took it, he hauled her around to sit on his lap. She sat as stiff as a dry thistle head and just as liable to fly apart. He nuzzled her neck, wanting to taste her.

“Let go. Suppose someone comes in,” Ashira protested.

“Then my people will see how matters stand between us.” He drew her closer, kissing a spot behind her ear he’d discovered to be sensitive. “Shall I shout to the world that I care for my wife? Shall I present a wide target to outsiders for attack by sending another to scout in my place? News travels fast. All eyes will be turned in our direction to detect weakness.”

“Truth?” She held her breath.

“That my woman holds my heart balanced on the points of her sharp claws, or that I fear she will be taken for ransom if any suspect?”

“Both.” She tried to wriggle around in his arms, but he held fast.

“Why else would I tremble at your mood, steal a kiss from a cold girl? Wretched cat! Do you think I enjoy being subject to your whims, or knowing other men see my treasure’s face?” Uther kept one arm around her, using his free hand to feed them both. “Now I remember a question about Outcasts, and I shudder to think what will happen if I don’t gratify my lady’s every wish.”

She relaxed, but the winter mood continued in her formal words: “You are very kind, my lord.”

“Kind is an emotion unknown to all Outcasts,” he began, hoping to get her focused on the problem and not on his leaving her. “They rarely survive beyond sentencing, thanks to the ‘kindnesses’ of former family, who track them down without mercy to erase their shame. Kindness is the law allowing forts to destroy Outcasts outside territory posts, so the wretched creatures are hunted for sport. Run to the point of exhaustion, and then allowed to crawl to their own destruction.”

“Are you sorry for these criminals?”

“Let us say I can understand how they become as they are.” Uther picked her braid undone as he spoke, not liking the golden mass restricted. “Even when working, others regard them as the lowest form of life, scarce spoken to except for orders. After three years, only the smartest of them remain, not the strongest, nor the most skilled in battle. Near total isolation from the rest of humanity makes Brethren ruthless killers. They live from one moment to the next.”

“What else do they expect to happen for committing a sin?” She relaxed back against him.

“They have their uses.” Uther’s heart started pumping hard. He tried to stay away from thoughts of her naked in his arms. “Our plumbing arrangements are the direct result of one Brother’s solitary brooding in the cold season. He earned his keep, although my priest resented the alterations.”