Blood Song

“Turns out I wasn’t quite the thief she thought I was. Fat old rich man with a fat old wife managed to corner me when I lifted her brooch. Was beating on me with his walking stick when my mum knifed him. ‘No-one hits my Sherry!’ she said. She could’ve run but she stayed.” She crossed her arms, hugging herself. “She stayed for me. She was still stabbin’ away when the Guard came. They hanged her the next day. I was eleven years old.

“After the hanging I sat down and waited to die. Couldn’t steal any more y’see, just couldn’t. And it was all I knew how to do. No mum, no trade. I was done. Next morning a pretty lady in a grey robe asked if I needed help.”

He couldn’t recall standing or pulling her close, but found her head was on his chest, breath catching as she fought down tears. “I’m sorry sister…”

She breathed deeply, her sobs fading, lifting her face, a small wry smile on her lips, whispering “I’m not your sister,” before she pressed them against his.

“You taste,” Sherin’s tongue played over his chest, “of sand and sweat.” She wrinkled her nose. “And you smell of smoke.”

“I’m sorry...”

She giggled a little, raising herself up to kiss his cheek before pressing her nakedness against him, her head resting on his chest. “I’m not complaining.”

His hands played over the slim smoothness of her shoulders, drawing a sigh of pleasure. “I had heard that one had to be experienced at this to find it truly enjoyable,” he said.

“I heard that true devotion to the Faith would blind me to the lure of such pleasures.” She kissed him again, longer this time, tongue probing his lips. “It appears you can’t believe all you hear.”

They had lain together for hours, making love with urgent whispered intimacy, Scratch posted outside the door to discourage visitors. The wonderful, electrifying feel of her against him, the caress of her breath on his neck as he moved in her, was overpowering, amazing. Despite the grief and the guilt and knowledge of what waited beyond this room, for now he was, perhaps for the first time he could remember, truly happy.

The dim light of dawn was filtering through the shutters on the window and he could see her face clearly, her smile of serene bliss as she drew back. “I love you,” he told her, fingers tracing through her hair. “I always have.”

She nuzzled against him, her hand playing over the hard muscle of his chest and belly. “Really? After all these years apart?”

“I don’t think love like that can ever really fade.” He clasped her hand, fingers entwining. “The Blackhold. Were you… did they hurt you?”

“Only if terror is a kind of torture. I was only there for one night, but the things I heard.” She gave a small shudder and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m sorry, I had to know. Your words must have carried great weight to have worried the King and Aspect Tendris so.”

“This war is more than just a mistake, Vaelin. It sullies our souls. It is against the Faith in every way. I had to speak out. No one else would, not even Aspect Elera, though I begged her to. I started standing up in market squares and shouting it out to anyone who’d listen. To my surprise some did, especially in the poorer quarters. My words were written down, reproduced with that new ink and block device the Third Order uses. Pamphlets were being passed around in growing numbers, saying things like ‘End the War and Save the Faith.’”

“Has a ring to it.”

“Thank you. It took two weeks for them to come for me, Brother Iltis and his men storming in to the Order House with a King’s warrant for my arrest. Brother Iltis is not the kindest of men, as you noticed, and took great delight in explaining to me in detail what was in store in the Blackhold. I lay awake all that night, listening to the screams. When the cell door opened I nearly fainted with fear, but it was Princess Lyrna with fresh clothes and a King’s order for my release into her custody.”

Lyrna. What stratagem lay behind this I wonder? “Then I am in her debt.”

“And I. Such a kindly and courageous soul is rare. She made sure I had everything I needed, a fine room of my own, books and parchment. We spent many hours talking in her secret garden. You know, I think she’s a little lonely. When I left on receiving your summons she even cried. She said to give you her warmest regards by the way.”

“Kind of her.” He was keen to change the subject. “What did he offer you? Janus, I know he must have tried to ensnare you in some kind of bargain.”