The Exile and the Sorcerer (39 page)

“You’d have been the only one.” Jemeryl knew that the curtness of her replies would soon attract attention, despite her effort to control her tone.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Another lie.

“I suppose it must be a wrench to leave your home.”

Jemeryl tried to force the tension from her voice. “It’s not that. I had an unsettling side effect from some magic yesterday.”

Tevi looked doubtful, but before she could speak, they were interrupted by a growl from Ruff. The bear had been dragging one of the packs to the kitchens, but a strap had caught on a tree root. A tug-of-war was now in progress.

Tevi darted over. “Hey, take care. There are breakables in the pack.” She grinned at Jemeryl, her buoyant mood restored. “The villagers gave me two bottles of their best local wine.”

“I wouldn’t get excited. The stuff doubles as sheep dip,” Klara said.

“It tasted all right last night. But I guess anything would after the cider.” Tevi hoisted the pack onto her shoulder.

Jemeryl managed a weak attempt at a smile. “I made a start at organising the provisions. If you dump stuff on the table, I’ll be along as soon as I’ve got the ponies stabled.”

“Fine.” Tevi headed towards the kitchen, humming cheerfully to herself.

Jemeryl buried her face in her hands. After several deep breaths, she let her arms drop and looked at the familiar stone buildings. She would cope. Tevi was back with her. Neither of them would set eyes on the woman again—or else, Jemeryl told herself, regardless of her Coven oath, there would be nothing left of the villager but a smouldering pair of shoes.

*

The knapsack landed with a thud. Using her foot, Jemeryl shoved it into the corner and then turned to survey the room. Everything was packed. The parlour looked bare, devoid of personal possessions, although the fire still bestowed a cosy glow. This would be her last night in the castle. All that was needed was to saddle the ponies and ride out. Just as well, since Iralin’s deadline to quit the castle expired on the next day.

At the other side of the room, Tevi was opening a bottle of wine, struggling with an implement that looked better suited for removing stones from horse’s hooves than corks from bottles. Finally, the stopper came loose—a celebratory drink for the true start of the quest.

Jemeryl dropped into her favourite chair and stretched her feet towards the fire, using Tumble’s rump as a footstool. She accepted a mug of wine and took a cautious sip. Contrary to Klara’s remark, it was not bad, a touch sweet but very drinkable.

At first, their conversation was about the route they would take to Lyremouth, around the southern end of Whitfell Spur. The main Langhope Pass was still closed, and neither wanted to try the old pack route. Tevi recounted a few incidents from the journey with Harrick, although the account was unusually vague. Her mind was clearly elsewhere. Jemeryl refused to speculate about the subject that was occupying Tevi’s thoughts. She would rather not know. However, she was not given the choice.

“Jem. Can I talk to you about something?” Tevi took advantage of a lull in the conversation.

After the briefest hesitation, Jemeryl replied, “Of course,” trying to mask her reluctance. The topic had to be personal if Tevi felt the need to ask permission, and it did not require an oracle to guess what it was, but refusing would be neither polite nor tactful.

Tevi took a moment to gather herself. “Last night, I spent a lot of time watching the villagers. It wasn’t hard to tell men from women once I stopped making assumptions. In fact, things were so obvious, I don’t know how I’d missed it before. Like Sergo’s son referring to ‘my mothers.’ I’ve heard the expression from other people but assumed they meant their ancestors—mother, grandmother, and so on. Or ‘partner.’ Verron and Marith always called each other that, so I should have known how the word is used in the Protectorate, but with Harrick and Rorg, I just thought they meant ‘business colleague.’”

“No, a business colleague would be referred to as an associate, to avoid confusion,” Jemeryl explained, although she was coldly certain that it was not mere linguistic usage that was concerning Tevi.

“Well, yes...but what I wanted to talk about was...at the party, lots of younger villagers were showing an interest in me. It’s happened before, but I’ve always assumed the person was male and avoided them, or that I’d misinterpreted something, or in one case I...didn’t react well.” Tevi’s expression shuffled between guilt and embarrassment. “But last night, there was one woman in particular. She was really keen, virtually chased me around the hall. Not that I minded. She was nice—fun to talk to.”

Tevi was trying to look relaxed and failing. It wasn’t just an idle chat. Jemeryl knew that anyway. She realised that an interested “Yes, go on,” was called for but could not bring herself to say it.

“Her name’s Kelly. She’s a cheese maker from up the valley. Do you know her?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Blond hair, about your height, rather pretty.”

“Oh.” Jemeryl braced herself for what Tevi was going to say next. Suddenly, a hideous thought struck. She jerked upright. “You don’t want her to come with us, do you?”

“No, nothing of the sort. It was just that she...” Tevi finished with a shrug.

Relief washed over Jemeryl. Listening to Tevi’s account would be easy by comparison with a long journey, forced to endure watching Tevi with a newfound lover. It gave Jemeryl the strength to ask, “That she what?”

“It was...with her chasing me, I wanted to test my reactions, so when she asked me, I kissed her.” Tevi swallowed. All pretence at nonchalance had gone. Her eyes were fixed on the floor. “It was all right. I felt conspicuous, but not immoral or anything. And nobody else batted an eyelid, except for her friends, who were making encouraging gestures to her. That’s when I got worried. I realised this woman saw me as some great hero and lover. I didn’t want to tell her the basilisk was a one-off thing, and I didn’t have a clue about the other. So I made a joke about never trusting a mercenary’s kiss and barricaded myself in a corner with the old folk until she left.”

“You didn’t spend the night with her?” Jemeryl blurted out.

“Oh, no. I didn’t say I liked her that much.”

Jemeryl’s heart pounded. “So what is it you want to talk about?”

“It’s just...like with the woman last night...about not having a clue...”

Jemeryl opened her mouth but could not force any words out.

Tevi continued haltingly. “Supposing...if there was a woman, and you really liked her, but didn’t know how she felt about you, what would you say to her?”

“It would depend.”

“On what?”

“On how sober I was, among other things.” Jemeryl was amazed at how steady her own voice sounded. “We aren’t talking hypothetically, are we?”

“No,” Tevi answered after a slight pause.

“There’s someone you have your eye on.”

“Yes.”

“Not another of the villagers.”

“No.”

“Or someone from Lyremouth or Treviston.”

“No.”

Jemeryl sat motionless, willing Tevi to look up, meet her eyes, and give a smile or some other unequivocal sign—in vain. Tevi remained staring at the floor.

There had to be more than one possible interpretation for why Tevi had chosen to say what she had said.
The way my luck’s been running, she probably just wants me to recommend a few lines from a poem to put in a love letter home
, Jemeryl told herself.
But surely there’s a chance that she’s referring to me?
Her jaw clenched at the afterthought.
If not, it will be beyond bearing, whatever I do.

Jemeryl got to her feet, walked to Tevi’s chair, and then knelt so their heads were level. “What I’d say would also depend on who it was, how well I knew her, what situation we were in. Maybe I’d say nothing and let my actions speak for me.”

Slowly, hesitantly, Jemeryl took hold of Tevi’s hand, dreading that it would be snatched away, but the fingers she gripped tightened about her own. At last, Tevi raised her head, and their eyes met.

While red firelight flickered and danced over the room, the two of them stayed frozen in position. Jemeryl felt as if her entire life had been distilled into that moment. Tevi’s gaze held her cocooned from the world. Nothing else ever had, or would, exist apart from the woman in front of her. She tried to speak, but her lungs were not working properly. Jemeryl cupped Tevi’s cheek. She felt slight pressure as Tevi leaned into her touch. Then Jemeryl slipped her hand to the back of Tevi’s neck and drew her forward into a kiss.

Tevi’s mouth was soft, moving against hers, nuzzling, sucking, and then opening. Their tongues touched, and Jemeryl heard herself moan. She began to explore—at first tentatively caressing and then more fervently as her lips and tongue struggled to express the surge of desire.

Tevi’s arms wrapped around Jemeryl, tightening and pulling her close, lifting her clear of the ground. She clung to Tevi’s shoulders. Even through clothes, the firm body felt more real than anything else Jemeryl had ever touched. Somehow, they ended up sitting on the floor, squashed awkwardly between the chair and Tumble. Neither obstacle showed any sign of moving. At last, Tevi broke from the kiss. She rested her forehead on Jemeryl’s shoulder, gasping.

“Dare I hope from this that I’m the woman you have your eye on?” Jemeryl’s tone was not quite as light as she intended.

“I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.” The thick cloth of Jemeryl’s shirt muffled Tevi’s voice.

“It’s been the same for me.”

“Truly?” Tevi sounded disbelieving.

“And you must remember I had a two-day head start on you.”

“You really—”

“Yes.”

Talk was inadequate. Jemeryl’s lips travelled along the line of Tevi’s jaw, detecting the faint tastes of salt and wood smoke. The smoothness of Tevi’s throat became wet and slippery under Jemeryl’s mouth. Tevi’s hands trembled as they moved over her shoulders and down her spine. Jemeryl suspected that her own hands were none too steady either.

Jemeryl laid her face against Tevi’s and opened her eyes. The chair leg was inches from her nose. She stared at it while forming the words she wanted.

“Would you like to share my bed tonight? I’ll understand if it’s too much, too quickly, and—”

She broke off as Tevi nodded sharply.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, perhaps we should move while my legs can still carry me.”

Jemeryl wondered if they might be beyond that point already. Getting to her feet required both hands braced on the chair. She felt as clumsy as a toddler. Her knees were rubber. The stairs would have been impossible without an arm around Tevi’s waist as support.

They stood kissing in the bedroom until Jemeryl gently pushed Tevi down to sit on the side of the bed. In a businesslike fashion, she undid the ties of her own shirt. Her hands moved to her belt but stopped. Tevi’s gaze was transfixed on the gapping cloth. Letting her arms fall to her side, Jemeryl moved within reach. Tevi’s hands slipped under her shirt, encircling her and pulling her close, while Tevi’s face tunnelled through folds of material.

Jemeryl gasped at the touch of lips on her skin. Had it not been for the supporting arms, she would have fallen. She braced her knees against the bed frame. Her fingers burrowed through Tevi’s dark hair, her grip firm enough to steer the warm mouth towards her breast. Tevi’s tongue flicked across her nipple. Jemeryl heard a sound like the mew of a newborn kitten escape from her own throat. She guided Tevi to her other breast. Sensation flooded through her. Jemeryl looked down. Tevi’s eyes were closed and shadow filled the hollow of her cheek as she sucked. By the time Jemeryl pulled away, she was shaking so much that it was hard to finish undressing and harder still to get Tevi free from her clothes.

The air was chill on exposed flesh. Jemeryl tugged back the bedcovers, pushed Tevi inside, and then snuggled in after. Jemeryl’s senses were overwhelmed by the awareness of the body beside her; the texture of skin on skin; the whisper of breath; and Tevi’s eyes inches away, staring into hers. She rolled back, pulling Tevi on top and letting the other woman’s weight press her into the mattress. Jemeryl’s fingertips investigated the contours of Tevi’s back, while her thumbs rippled over the furrows of Tevi’s ribs.

Tevi drew back, resting up on her elbows. She adjusted her balance so she could stroke Jemeryl’s face. Desire was plain in her expression, and so was uncertainty. The doubts solidified.

“Um...you know what I said about not having a clue?” Tevi’s voice was barely audible.

Jemeryl smiled in understanding. “You’ve never done this with a woman?”

“With anyone.”

“Ah.” Jemeryl considered the implications. “In that case, I’m afraid you might find it a bit of a disappointment. Most people do, the first time.”

Jemeryl’s smile broadened. She rolled over, so that Tevi was the one on her back, and began a series of light, teasing kisses, moving quickly over nose and eyes, dancing away from the lips, until Tevi grew more assertive and caught hold of Jemeryl’s head. She clamped her mouth against Jemeryl’s, claiming her in an ever-more-passionate embrace. Their legs entwined.