The Dragon's War (2 page)

“Thank you,” Skye said shyly.

“For what?” Lifa asked, swinging Skye’s hand.

“For kissing me like that. I’ve felt like I’m contaminated or something with Dallan and Rika nervously jumping around me.”

Lifa stopped abruptly and pulled Skye to her, wrapping her hands about her waist and pressing her full body against her. The feel of Lifa’s breasts against her was wonderful and Skye’s eyes went to the cleavage that had deepened upon the contact. When she looked up, Lifa again kissed her, a lengthy, searing kiss that took Skye’s breath away. Lifa pressed her forehead to Skye’s forehead.

“I can tell by the look on their faces they do not think you contaminated. Dallan looks to be in agony.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes,” Lifa said, “and the only reason they have hesitated is to make certain that you are all right.”

“Why wouldn’t I be all right?” Skye asked, her brow furrowing.

Lifa laughed. “You have no idea how good it is to hear you ask that question.” She took Skye’s hand and they began walking again.

“None of us really knows what happened with you and the sorceress. The last time she took you, she hurt you.”

Skye paled a little. She had forgotten all about that and Lifa wished she had not reminded her. But Skye pushed the memory away.

“It was not like that this time. I woke up months ago without knowing where I was or who I was. Eydis, or rather Ingrid, told me that we were lovers and I had nothing to convince me otherwise. At first, she was actually very kind to me, although a little possessive.”

“And later?” Lifa asked carefully.

Skye was thoughtful. “In the beginning, she convinced me that I was a delicate little flower that had fallen off a horse and hit my head.”

Lifa muffled laughter, for she could think of nothing so out-of-character for Skye.

“I think she did that on purpose,” Skye said, “giving me a background so at odds with my real self. There was nothing to trigger any of my memories. But later, I killed a hell hound that wandered into the fields, and I think she realized my mind was beginning to return.”

“And then what happened?” Lifa asked, watching Skye closely.

Skye had a faraway look in her eye, reassessing events she had lived through under a haze. It was difficult to analyze them, to chronicle them in a coherent order. Eydis had changed, become harder, more watchful, gradually dropping the charade as parts of Skye returned. But that hadn’t been all bad.

Lifa saw the mischievous look on Skye’s face, that twinkle in her eye that she adored.

“What?”

“There was a time when my memory first began to return, and the sorceress also began to act like herself, but I still didn’t know who she was. I just thought that ‘Eydis’ had begun to act strange.”

“And?”

“It was very—,” Skye said, then paused. “Enjoyable.”

“Ah,” Lifa said. “Angry sex can be very passionate.”

“Yes,” Skye agreed. “Yes it can.”

Lifa stopped before a door, and Skye was surprised to find that they had walked all the way through the garden and were now at the tiered entry to the Royal Staff quarters occupied by the younger Ha’kan. She glanced to the doors along the circular structure. If she remembered correctly, her chambers were over there. The door they stood in front of bore the symbols of the Priestess caste.

“Would you like to join me in my chambers?”

Skye’s shy smile returned. “You so rarely stay in your own room. You’re not going to the Ministry?”

“If you wish, we could go there. But I thought you might enjoy a bath after your journey.”

Skye’s eyes lit up at the thought, and Lifa took her hand. “Come along now.”

Lifa’s chambers were exactly as Skye remembered them, and she catalogued the contents as each memory took hold. The tiled bath, gently sloped and easily large enough for two, was full of soapy water that carried hints of lavender on tendrils of steam that drifted upward. Leya and Freya, two of Lifa’s inner circle, were present. The Priestesses greeted Skye warmly, but quickly dismissed themselves, leaving Skye and Lifa alone.

“Now, off with those dusty clothes.”

Skye had often marveled at the Ha’kan skill in disrobing women, and none could rival the skill of the Priestess caste, let alone the future High Priestess. As if by magic, her shirt was over her head, her boots set aside, and her pants dropped to the floor. The undergarments were whisked away and she stood naked on the warm tile floor.

Lifa’s appreciation showed in her eyes. If Skye had spent the last few months in a pampered existence, it certainly didn’t show. She was as lean and muscled as ever, and if anything, a trifle thin. Lifa took her by the hand.

“Come now, into the bath.”

Skye stepped down into the marble pool. The hot water was luxurious and Skye settled in up to her waist. Although she had taken many enjoyable baths in captivity, there was nothing quite like the beauty and safety of the Ha’kan palace.

And then there was Lifa, who was now disrobing, an action that absorbed all of Skye’s attention. It did not seem possible, but Lifa was even more beautiful than she remembered. Her breasts were fuller, her skin was radiant, and she glowed with the inner light that had always illuminated her and everyone around her. But now that light was brighter than the sun. She slipped in behind Skye, reaching forward for the scented soap, pressing her breasts against Skye’s back.

Skye relaxed against Lifa as the High Priestess spread lather over her body. Although Lifa’s actions were not overtly sexual, they were so casually sensual they had an even more pronounced effect. The ministrations were both tender and gentle, yet even the most hardened Ha’kan warrior freely admitted that the Priestess caste were the most dominant members of their society. Skye could not help herself and turned to kiss Lifa, a bruising, longing kiss filled with desperation. And Lifa returned the kiss, her passion igniting. The breasts pressed hard against the muscular back and one lathered hand went to a firm breast while the other dipped beneath the water to work its magic. Skye twisted and turned beneath the skilled hands while Lifa held her tight, still stealing her breath with a kiss. It was not long before Skye’s body released, never breaking the kiss of her lover.

Lifa at last released Skye from the bondage of that kiss and leaned back, Skye still comfortably in her arms. The two rested for a while, Lifa still languorously washing Skye, when Skye turned to Lifa with an impish look in her eye.

“Are you tired?”

“Of course not,” Lifa replied. “Did you forget the stamina required of a Priestess?”

“I could never forget that,” Skye said, “which is why I would like to move to the bed. I could never hold my breath long enough to do what I want to do here, and your stamina would surely cause me to drown.”

Lifa laughed and took her by the hand. “Then by all means, let us move. I don’t wish to be the cause of your demise.”

They both took up soft towels, drying the other, and that act alone was enough to send them back into another embrace. They made it to the bed, the soft, lovely haven large enough for several participants, and collapsed into the deep cushions. Skye was on top and began kissing Lifa everywhere, her eyes, her lips her throat, her breasts, her stomach, and finally down to the softness between her legs where she settled for an extended length of time. And Lifa cradled that beloved head in her hands, marveling at the skill of those lips and that tongue, thinking for the thousandth time what an excellent Priestess Skye would have made had she chosen that vocation. When her body released, it was with an abandon the High Priestess exhibited with few.

Skye pushed Lifa until she was certain she was fully satisfied, then pulled herself up next to her and lie with her head upon her shoulder. Lifa toyed with her hair, kissing the fair strands still damp from the bath. Sometimes Skye would doze off in the gentle afterglow, but today, although feeling a pleasant lethargy, she was nowhere near sleep.

Lifa sensed this, and quietly took advantage of the opportunity.

“You’ve returned at a perfect time. I am still responsible for your sexual development, and very soon you will have to learn something new.”

Skye raised her head, concerned. “Do you find me wanting?”

Lifa’s laughter bubbled over. “By the gods, no. Tell me you’re more aware than that.”

“Well, yes. I just wanted to make certain.”

“No, this is something entirely new that you just haven’t had the chance to experience.”

Now Skye was very curious. Her time with the Ha’kan had been a non-stop cornucopia of sexual experience, so she couldn’t imagine what she had missed.

“You’re going to have to learn how to safely make love to a pregnant woman,” Lifa said.

Skye felt a surge of excitement. This was a boundless honor. Pregnancy was a rare and revered event in Ha’kan culture. Despite their advanced medical and scientific knowledge, no one was quite certain how reproduction occurred. It was entirely independent of sex and rested solely with the mother through parthenogenesis. This quirk of evolution greatly shaped their culture and society, leading many scholars to propose that their sexual freedom was a direct result of this unique procreation, for neither the reproductive process nor the overt sexuality existed in any other race in Arianthem.

Although pregnancy was to some extent rare, Ha’kan children were fiercely protected and few were ever lost. Most women had only one or two children, but some were prolific and had several. The race was long-lived and dominant in battle, and with all of these factors together, the population continued to gradually grow.

“That’s wonderful!” Skye exclaimed, “who will be—”

Skye stopped, for Lifa was looking at her expectantly. Skye’s eyes drifted down to where Lifa rested her hand on her still-flat stomach.

“You?” Skye said with wonder. “You are with child?”

“I am,” Lifa said proudly, and Skye now understood Lifa’s newly acquired luminance.

Skye fairly pounced on her, hugging her tightly, then drew back, concerned.

“Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.”

“And this will be lesson number one,” Lifa said. “You may not treat me like a porcelain doll. Ha’kan women are very resilient when pregnant.”

Skye grinned. “I’m sure they are.”

A quiet knock on the door somehow communicated a circumspect intensity.

“I am guessing that Astrid has told the others. Come in,” she said, slightly louder.

Dallan and Rika strode in, having themselves cleaned and changed clothes. They could hardly contain their joy, rushing to the bed.

“Is it true?” Dallan asked.

“It is,” Lifa said, the pride still in her voice.

Dallan fairly lifted Lifa from the bed, hugging her tightly. Rika then took her turn at nearly squeezing Lifa to death, then set her gently back down on the pile of pillows. Dallan sat down next to her, and Rika sprawled at the foot of the bed. Lifa took Skye back into her arms and pulled the sheet up around them, not out of modesty but because there was a slight chill in the air.

“I was just telling Skye she would have a new opportunity for development.”

Rika grinned. “That’s right. She has not had the pleasure, yet.”

“You have?” Skye asked.

“Of course,” Rika said, “we learned the theory of it our third year at the Academy.”

“You learned more than theory,” Dallan reminded her.

“Ah, that’s right,” Rika said, relishing the memory. “As did you.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Skye said. Both Dallan and Rika were so charming, even at a young age, it was likely they received far more “training” than the average Ha’kan.

Lifa ran her fingers through Skye’s hair. Once again, the Tavinter did not recognize that her own charm put her on level with both the Princess and future First General, and the only reason she had not yet received the training was due to the numerous absences that fate had brought her way.

“You’re in for a treat,” Rika said.

“What do you mean?” Skye asked. She had thought the training would revolve around making certain the pregnant woman was comfortable and the child uninjured.

Both Dallan and Rika deferred to Lifa on the subject.

“The sexual drive of the Ha’kan woman peaks at two times during her life,” Lifa explained. “One is when she reaches her fourth or fifth decade, and then that lasts for a very long time. The second is when she is with child.”

“Really?” Skye asked, her eyes wide.

“Yes,” Lifa said, “we can be insatiable.”

“I can’t imagine,” Skye said, mulling over this seemingly impossible fact.

“Kara is already hovering about me,” Lifa said to Dallan. “She has determined to assist with every birth in the capital to prepare for mine.”

“That sounds like her.”

“She wanted to be here for your return, but there’s a woman giving birth in the market quarter, so she is with the midwife and those closest to the mother.”

This caused another little tug of a grin on Dallan’s face.

“What?” Skye asked.

“It’s one more good reason why you’ve returned to us now.”

“It’s widely believed,” Lifa explained, “that the child bonds to the mother’s lovers while still in the womb. That the strength of that bond is a direct result of the sexual intensity between the mother and lovers during pregnancy.”

“Oh,” Skye said slowly. That explained a lot. No wonder Astrid, Gimle, and Senta were as much Dallan’s parents as was the Queen. Ha’kan reproduction was so physically different from other races they did not have traditional families. But they had formed something just as strong, if not stronger. Rika had once revealed that her own mother, a trusted member of Senta’s staff, had been killed when she was very young, but that the Queen had treated her just like a daughter.

“So,” Dallan said, “my mother has ordered celebrations. Although the Ha’kan need little excuse to rejoice, Skye’s safe return and the pregnancy of the future High Priestess are events worth celebrating. There will be parties, contests, and guests from all over the country. And that will get you warmed up for an even bigger event.”

“What’s that?” Skye asked as Dallan removed an official looking scroll from inside her tunic. Dallan handed her the scroll. Skye unrolled the parchment and slowly read the graceful scrawl.