The Wizard

The Cerulean Ocean glittered out off the western coast of Uazica like an endless field of sapphires. A Kharsoomian frigate brought us hence to Sacasia, a free city and the trade hub of the area. I remembered it dimly from maps shown to me by my old master, those many years ago in Thunderhead. I had not use for it until now. Eight of us, along with seven qobads, disembarked from the red-sailed ship, and made our way up the wharf to the city proper, where we would stay the night.

I journeyed with a strange retinue. First and foremost was my wife, the Princess Tanyth of Clan Abibaal. Every sailor aboard the ship, man and woman, human and otherwise, had fallen in love with her. Even the taciturn xerxyss who saw to the vessel's hull and initially ignored her fell victim to her charms. It was unlikely he reacted to her breathtaking physical beauty. She had a way about her, an ability to make one feel like whoever she spoke to was the only other person in the world. Her violet eyes focused on them, and love was the only possible option.

As for the crew, I believe the fact that she maintained Kharsoomian fashions was the primary cause of their attention. She was almost entirely nude, wearing only a pair of sandals and golden jewelry dusted with amethysts. A silken half-skirt in the purple of her clan flared out from her hips, secured on a gold belt. Her only concession to the cold night air were the furs she would wrap herself in when the sun went down.

Her warmaid, Shaluvia, was never far from her. Thanks to the warmaid's vigilance, I never feared that one of the sailors might try to hurt my wife. She herself had attracted no few admirers, for though her physique harder than Tanyth's, her features rougher, she was undeniably a great beauty. A pair of Kharsoomian blades hung from her belt, and she wore even less than her mistress, bothering only with sandals, a leather harness, bracelets, anklets, and her slave collar.

Tanyth's handmaids tended to her every need. Akadina and Ku-Aya were Kharsoomian, while Itzamatul hailed from somewhere in the Ocaital. For sailors wishing a dalliance, they were far more receptive, and I believe each one of them availed themselves from time to time. Their jewelry was simpler than their mistress, and they only carried short blades upon their belts.

Ujaala, my bedslave, stayed close by me. She was Tabiyyan, with deep brown skin, long wavy black hair, and a figure with bountiful curves. A beauty in her own right, she had been apart from me for too long and did not want to be forgotten again. Comfort had done her some good, and she had regained some of the weight she lost. Tanyth had only just begun to give her proper jewelry, insisting that what she wore should be marked with my sigil, the feathered serpent.

The model for that sigil was perhaps the most distinctive member of my entourage. Quiyahui, a coatl from the Mixtayhua, played upon the wind by day and coiled nearby me as night fell. A serpent three times as long as I was tall, her body was covered in white feathers. Where the light found them, rainbows bloomed. She watched all around her with lightning-blue eyes. She was my familiar, a new arrangement, but a blessed and needed one.

Lastly, there was me. I was still wearing my barbarian garb, a pair of leather boots, a loincloth covered in folds, and a harness for my weapon. I could have been seen as little more than a savage were it not for the crown on my brow, worn at Tanyth's insistence. My title was a simple lord, but I was married to a princess of Kharsoom, and thus noble by right. My hair and beard were shorter and far more kempt than they had been in a long time. I suppose I looked almost respectable.

We stayed but one night in Sacasia, but I found the opportunity to sample the local chocolatl. While it couldn't compare to the Pelesamatu bean, after years of going without, I was grateful for a draught of this divine beverage. Tanyth laughed at the blissful expression on my face as I savored the frothy mug. "I wish I knew how to make you look like that," she joked.

"Taste, my love," I said.

She had a sip, and gave me an indulgent look. "I'm pleased you like it."

"I'll have yours then," I said with a laugh.

The following morning, we made our way into the highlands around the city, mounted on our qobads. The Kharsoomian birds were surefooted up a track muddier than they ever before encountered. Their heads turned back and forth, hunting for the source of unfamiliar sounds in the emerald jungle.

Our destination was not far from the city's walls. A collection of standing stones rose on a rocky outcropping over the bay. Carved with runes, they had been erected uncounted millennia ago by wizards whose names were long forgotten.

Tanyth shivered. "Since you described it to me, I've been looking forward to traveling this way."

"I have missed it," I admitted.

"It would have made your trek across Kharsoom easier."

"Then I never would have met you." She gave me a demure smile.

"I've never seen anything like these," Shaluvia said, watching the stones warily.

"There are none in Kharsoom," I said. "If there ever were, they've long since been destroyed."

I began my incantation, the words falling from my lips in a suddenly familiar refrain. The traveler's breeze washed over me, and I tasted a distant horizon. The sensation was comfortable, a lover that had not forgotten me even though years had separated us.

My retinue followed me into the circle of stones, and the world changed about us. All that we could see took on a flat aspect, but those things just out of vision loomed large and took on too many angles. With each step, the scenery changed about us, every step a league.

In the evening, we emerged from another set of standing stones. I saw with some pleasure that we were somewhere in the Ocaital, and that night as we camped, I was lulled to sleep by familiar jungle sounds.

We traveled this way for some weeks, the day when we crossed the Lapis Ocean the longest by far. The direct route to Castellandria would have taken us through Aucor, but the Heacharids had done a thorough job of smashing every set of stones on their continent they could find. The Hinterlands had grown treacherous there, and so going around was the wise choice. As such, we found ourselves in the southern part of Chassudor. We were far from my homeland of Rhandonia, but closer than I had been in many years.

The cooler climate invigorated me and made me think of that rocky stretch of shore where I had grown up. I was the only one pleased, for all of my human traveling companions shivered in the comparative cold of the southern Chassudorian spring. "How can anyone live in so cold a place?" asked Tanyth, hugging herself.

"This is quite warm," I said. "And here, most people wear more than sandals and a harness."

"They dress like you."

"Actually, I would be considered nearly nude."

I led them into a nearby town, and the sight of these six naked beauties caused quite the stir. I convinced Tanyth to purchase traveling cloaks for all of us. Though all of them complained to some degree about the feel of heavy cloth draped over them, they huddled gratefully in the newfound warmth.

We stayed in an inn that night, and there we were exotics, five women from far Kharsoom, one from the jungles of the Ocaital, one from the saffron cities of Tabiyya, a feathered serpent, and seven riding birds. For once, I was the least remarkable of us, and I basked in my anonymity. After being recognized everywhere as the barbarian boldisar, it was nice to merely be a Chassudorian like nearly everyone else in the inn.

"These are hardly appropriate accommodations for a princess of Kharsoom," Tanyth observed as we beheld our room. It was an unremarkable place, merely a box with a small window overlooking the muddy street.

I embraced her, kissing her neck softly. "Strange that it might be where we conceive a prince of Kharsoom."

"It is," she moaned happily. "Oh, how low have I fallen."

She giggled as we fell into bed and sighed as I slid inside her.

It was only a few days later when we emerged from standing stones on a beach beneath a brightly shining sun. I recognized the waves lapping on the shore, their color and scent would never leave me. This was the Turquoise Sea. I was momentarily stunned, joy at finding my destination, but memories of the war intruded.

"Bel?" Tanyth said. I wheeled my qobad about to see what she was looking at.

The standing stones were on a flat stone just above where living sea life marked the high tide. A staircase led down a path, which then wound up alongside the cliffs in front of us. A guard post stood right where the path began its climb. A squat stone building sat next to a bell, and four guards waited. They wore armor with fine livery, and carried spears and shields. A flag depicting a ship flapped over their blockhouse and was emblazoned on their shields and tabards. It was the symbol of Mairault. The guards, showing admirable discipline, formed into a loose row. Their posture was relaxed, which put me somewhat at ease.

"Hail, Master Wizard," said the guard whose helmet was decorated with a yellow feather. He spoke Mairese, a dialect of Eomet, a dialect I had not heard since my time aboard The Burning Knave.

"Hail," I responded carefully. My Eomet was never very good, and I didn't truly speak Mairese.

"You will come with me," he said, speaking as carefully as I. He glanced over at Quiyahui cautiously, but neither he nor my familiar were especially on guard. "It is the law. You will not be harmed."

"What is this about?"

"The Matriarch insists upon meeting wizards who travel here."

"Matriarch?" I asked. "Does not Mairault have a Lord Governor?"

"It does, but he does not insist upon your presence. Please, Master Wizard, come."

"What is going on?" Tanyth asked.

"We're to go with him. I don't sense any danger," I said, then looked over at where Ku-Aya flirted wordlessly with another one of the guards.

"I will need to learn this language," Tanyth said.

"Eomet certainly," I said. "This is the Mairese dialect. Not quite as common, but sailors in the Turquoise often use it."

"I will learn it too," she decided. She would at that. Tanyth has quite the facility for languages and speaks more than I do. I suspect some of her talent stems from her need to communicate. She retains her Kharish accent in every tongue, and that, I suspect, is artifice, to seem more exotic and allow her to get away with certain social liberties. I digress, but these tales are intended to be about my paramours, are they not?

The guards led us on the path. It wound along the edge of the cliff, emerging on a hill outside Mairault. Perhaps there is some confusion here. Mairault was the island, but it was also the city, and the archipelago, for there is not much difference. The locals equate all three of them often, and I will do the same. The city ranged out into the bay, much of it supported on thick wooden pilings and repurposed shipwrecks. It was at once ramshackle and glorious, a pirate settlement that had grown beyond its humble origins to be a metropolis in the Turquoise.

The guards led us along cobblestone streets onto the heights, were manor houses held the city's elite. At the edge of this neighborhood, where the houses grew large, were a modest stable. The guards promised our birds would be cared for by order of the Matriarch. We surrendered our mounts, and I gave Ksenaëe an affectionate pat, knowing I would see her soon.

The guards then brought us into the winding streets where every house was a palace. They led us to one manor that initially looked more modest than the others, a single structure nestled in a verdant garden. The building extended down the side of the cliff, and I would later learn that it burrowed into the rock of the island itself. A flag adorned with a golden handprint flew from the structure's roof. The compound was accessible only by a gate, worked with the same symbol. As we approached, a pair of guards stepped to the other side of the gate. These were armed and armored just as well as the others, the handprint symbol on their tabards.

This time as the guards spoke with one another, their Mairese was swift, without any attempt at allowing me to follow. I still sensed no danger, as the overwhelming mood of everyone appeared to be good natured curiosity.

"What is your name, Master Wizard?" asked our escort.

"Belromanazar of Thunderhead."

He nodded, not attaching any further significance to my name, and repeating it to the gate guards. After some discussion, our escorts handed us off to the house guards who politely brought us to a courtyard within the property. I would come to know this place well. An open flagstone area gathered around a central firepit, the garden blooming on three sides. The fourth was open air, a balcony overlooking the crashing waves far below. A pergola provided shade, and benches with plush cushions were scattered around. Birds and butterflies danced among the copious flowers blooming over the vines that climbed everything. The courtyard was a place of peace, as much a work of art as any sculpture.

"This is certainly a pleasant sort of prison," Tanyth remarked.

"Don't be frightened, mistress," Shaluvia said. "I'll kill any before they lay an unkind hand upon you."

"They've been friendly so far," I said. Quiyahui slithered into the sky and soon danced on the ocean wind.

"Is this how people in this part of the world greet travelers?" Tanyth asked.

"Not that I'm aware," I admitted. "Though this is my first visit to Mairault. I can understand wishing to know the wizards who pass through. This is a nation of sorts, but it is a small one and we can quite easily upset the balance of power."

"I could not believe it when I heard your name but it is you," said a musical voice.

My dear friend Phylyta Sullac descended the stairs into this cliffside garden. I had not seen her in longer than I could remember. Most of our relationship was through letters. We had been corresponding since our first meeting as apprentices.

Her beauty was arresting. Her skin was a deep olive, her lustrous brown hair pinned up in a complicated, braided style. Her eyes were bright green, accented with a dark line of kohl. Her most impressive feature was her mouth, generous and shapely, a mouth made to smile, and a smile that shone like the sun. She fixed that smile upon me now, and my heart leapt. She wore a lovely gown, its tight bodice accenting her full bosom, and its full skirts helping a shape that did not need it.

A golem followed her. He was a giant, more than a head taller than I, and far broader. His skin was the deep brown of fired clay. His eyes and mouth shed an amber glow as though a fire burned inside him. He wore only a knee-length kilt, the golden handprint emblazoned upon the front.

"Lyta?" I asked, not quite able to believe it was her.

"When my guards told me that Belromanazar of Thunderhead awaited me in my garden, I didn't believe them. But here you are." She embraced me, and I inhaled her sweet perfume, subtle flowers and citrus. Pearls dropped from her ears, and an expensive choker hugged her neck. Everything she wore displayed wealth.

"Where is Oddrin?" she asked.

"I will tell you that story later. My familiar is Quiyahui." She followed my gaze to the coatl frolicking in the ocean wind over the cliffs. Her moon cat, Meero, walked alongside her. A frown momentarily darkened Lyta's features.

"Who is this?" Tanyth asked. I turned, catching amusement in my wife's violet eyes.

"I am Phylyta Sullac," said my friend, curtsying to Tanyth.

Tanyth returned the gesture. "Princess Tanyth of Clan Abibaal, husband to Lord Belromanazar."

"Lord?" she asked.

"It happens when you marry a princess," I said. "You speak Kharish?"

Lyta gestured to the air about her. "An enchantment. My home translates language. It helps when I receive visitors from distant lands."

I introduced my companions, and Lyta was the picture of manners, graciously greeting every one of them. When introductions were finished, Lyta rang a bell that hung in the eave of the pergola. A servant shortly arrived, she said, "Bring my spouses and prepare refreshments. We have guests." She turned to me. "This is not a discussion, Bel. You will accept my hospitality."

"I wouldn't dream of insulting you."

"One thing before we go any further. I heard you were lost at sea. I feared the worst."

"Heard?"

"Alia of Freeport passed through here after the war. She knew my name from your letters."

"It's over then? The war?"

She nodded. "Axichis is the newest province in the Heacharid Empire."

"How much farther have they reached?"

"They haven't. The conquest was rather more expensive than the Heacharids were planning. They've been battling internal dissent since. While they would never call it civil war, I struggle to call it anything else. They have not advanced beyond the islands of the amazons."

"I suppose that's a sliver of good."

"The amazons sacrificed themselves dearly," Lyta said. "I am grateful to them, and to you, for the fight you gave the Heacharid dogs. You put them on their knees."

"That was more than we could have hoped for. So... Matriarch?"

"I'll tell you all about it," she promised. "But not now. I want to introduce my dear friend to my loves." She nodded to the stairs, where two people descended.

The first was a tall and slender man, with sharp features. His skin was a deep olive, and his eyes wide and brown. His curly black hair reached his shoulders, glistening with fragrant oil. He was dressed in a loose blouse, a brocade waistcoat, and breeches, and a single pearl earring. He was barefoot, and a golden ring glittered from one toe.

The woman's skin was a pale olive and dusted with brown freckles. Her hair was a mass of red curls barely managed into springy ringlets. Her eyes were a dark amber, ringed in kohl. She wore a simpler version of Lyta's own costume and a ring on every finger.

"My husband Jassam and my wife Saroya," Lyta said, kissing them both and wrapping an arm about their waists. "This is a friend, Lord Belromanazar."

"It is my honor," I said. They bowed.

"The honor is mine, my lord," said Jassam.

"How do you know our wife?" asked Saroya.

"We'll tell that story too," Lyta said with a grin.

Shortly, the servants brought food and drink. The wine was a blessing. The vineyards on Saumont, one of Mairault's islands, were famous through this part of the world. After drinking Kharsoomian swill for years, such a vintage was a revelation, rich and complex, teasing flavors from the food like an inquisitive lover. The repast was light, raw shellfish, fresh from the water, soaked in fruit juices. The Kharsoomians ate in wonder, and it wasn't long before Ku-Aya was quietly joking with her fellow handmaids about what the oysters resembled.

Lyta was curious about Tanyth, and I was just as interested in her spouses. She had wed Jassam, a gentleman pirate first. Saroya had been a thief who she caught in her home. Love had swiftly bloomed. I told her of rescuing Tanyth from Clan El and the flight over the wasteland, and our eventual courtship in Eirashtar. Tanyth gleefully added the piece about the Gauntlet of Silk, a detail that amused Lyta to no end.

"And what is that?" I asked, nodding to the golem.

"That is Teht. Some of us spend our time in the library honing our abilities rather than gallivanting across Thür," Lyta said primly.

I chuckled. "Your point is well taken."

"How did the two of you meet?" asked Jassam.

"You promised to say," Saroya said, touching her wife's arm.

"We were both apprentices then," Lyta said. "Almost twenty years ago now. There is a tradition among the elves of taking lovers among wizards. We are the only beings longer-lived than they. Our masters took us to Iarveiros for this ceremony, where we would meet the elves and be chosen by one of them. It's customary for every wizard and every elf to... sample a few choices before deciding. Belromanazar and I spoke at the reception before the elves descended."

"Like birds of prey," I remarked.

"You must have loved that," said Tanyth, caressing my leg affectionately.

"This is when you met Vallyn," Saroya said to Lyta.

"And you met Tarasynora," Tanyth said.

We both nodded. "I was still young and inexperienced then," I said. "I did not know what to make of anything."

"Nor did I," Lyta said. "I tried several nobles that week. Your husband, though, committed to the first he lay with."

"My master called me a fool," I laughed.

Tanyth leaned into me. "He is a romantic, as much as he might deny it."

"After that, we wrote each other. Lyta and I."

"I was surprised by your first letter," she said. "Pleasantly so. It felt nice. I was an apprentice, but I had a colleague."

"I felt the same way. When I wrote the first, I wondered if you would remember me."

"As though I could forget you."

"As I said, I was young."

"Then you started adventuring. I was jealous. I kept thinking maybe I should find my own party."

"Why didn't you?"

"There was always more to do here. Then you went missing. I cried for you, Bel."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. You survived, and I have my friend back. You will have to tell me some stories of your time. If you want."

"I do. Another night." I glanced at Teht. "Perhaps I should have studied. A golem. That's an impressive display of power."

She flashed a mysterious smile. "Teht has his uses." Night had fallen by then, insects in the garden purring a counterpoint to the crashing waves below. A chill had burrowed into the night wind. "You are probably tired from your journey. Quarters have been prepared for you. I'll show you myself."

"Thank you, yes. I could use sleep."

Tanyth nudged me, and nodded to Ujaala. I noticed that she was staring at Jassam, obviously besotted. "Oh, how rude of me," I said. "It is custom among Kharsoomians that guests allow their hosts use of their bedslave. Would you like Ujaala's company this evening?"

Lyta looked to Jassam, who was returning Ujaala's attention. "I believe my husband would appreciate that."

"May I?" he asked.

"You may," Lyta said.

Ujaala fairly jumped up, taking Jassam's hand. He led her inside, the two of them grinning happily. Saroya followed, watching the bedslave's backside without shame. Lyta chuckled, petting her moon cat. "Join them or sleep?" she mused.

"You might enjoy yourself. She's quite skilled."

"I think Jassam will appreciate an audience for once. Usually he is the one watching. Come, I'll show you to your rooms."

She showed us to a suite of chambers not far from the courtyard. They were sumptuously furnished, with soft couches in all of them. The handmaids took one room, and Shaluvia made herself comfortable in the main room. Tanyth and I went to the final room, where a bed sat by a window, letting the sea air and the crash of waves in. I was instantly gripped in a powerful nostalgia, a tender embrace of familiarity. The night air was warmer, the waves softer, but it was close enough.

"Sleep well," Lyta said. She indicated a bell set into an alcove on the wall. "If you need anything in the night, ring that bell. In the morning, we'll break our fast in the courtyard. And you and I can speak of everything we have not yet gotten to." She hugged me again. "Goodnight, Belromanazar." She took Tanyth's hand. "Goodnight, Princess. Thank you for honoring my home."

"You honor me," Tanyth said, kissing Lyta's hand.

Lyta left us, and Tanyth stripped the few items of clothing and jewelry from her perfect body before climbing into bed and pulling the silky sheets over herself. "I like her," she said.

"She is one of my oldest friends," I said.

"Is she a former paramour?"

"No," I said, undressing and joining Tanyth in bed. She turned on her side, pillowing her head in the crook of my shoulder, pressing her body against mine.

"She is a future paramour then."

"What?"

"You did not see how she was looking at you?" She kissed my cheek. "My sweet husband. When the time comes, you have my blessing."

In the morning, all of us joined Lyta and her spouses out in the garden. Plates of bread, honey, fruit, and cheese waited for us. We sat, filled plates, and ate. My companions were amazed at the plenty, so used to they of the privations of the Red Wastes.

"You arrived in time for the Argenteaux Festival," Lyta said. "It begins in a few days. You will love it. Mairault becomes a citywide celebration."

"That sounds wonderful," Tanyth said.

"You will need clothing if you wish to go into the city," Lyta said. "I'll have a tailor brought."

"What sort of clothing?"

"Something you will like," Lyta promised. "I would not be party to hiding such beauty."

"Our funds aren't limitless," I said.

Lyta waved that away. "There is no tailor in the city that would not love to do a favor for the Matriarch."

"That is the other thing I want to know," I said.

"Matriarch? A title of respect," Lyta said. "The Lord Governor started using it, and it has caught on. Nothing official, you understand."

"What does it mean unofficially?"

"The Lord Governor values my counsel."

"On?"

She smiled sweetly. "Every decision he wishes to make."

I laughed. "You took this nation."

"I thought it a wise investment. I am ageless. I can look upon Mairault and see her needs over the stretch of ages. I can guide her more effectively than one whose years run out more quickly."

"How did you manage it?"

"It was easier than I expected." She raised her eyebrow at me. "Something to think about."

I laughed. "I have spent too long as a wandering warrior. I fear I would be the worst person to guide a nation."

Though I dismissed her idea, her words lingered in my mind. They were not solely responsible for what I would do in Zuunkhorun. It was half of the equation, the other half coming when the Heacharids laid siege to Castellandria. That was still a few years away. Would I have thought of it had she not said those words? This I cannot say. I know now that Lyta was both right and wrong, and I would spend a great many lives learning that.

The tailor arrived the following afternoon. A short, gnomelike Mairese man, he was instantly besotted with Tanyth and thrilled to dress the six women. He took our measurements, blushed as the handmaids flirted shamelessly with them, and began to dress us. He could not stop talking about Tanyth's incomparable beauty and vowed that he would do everything he could not to mute it in any way.

My clothing was simple. The tailor prepared a linen robe for me, a common style about the Turquoise. After so long wearing next to nothing, it felt strange on my skin. The garment was perfect for the climate of Mairault, heavy enough to ward off a chill, but still light and airy in the warm sun.

Ujaala and the handmaids received short skirts and tight blouses in pale pink that showed off their flat bellies and alluring bosoms. Shaluvia agreed to a kilt and a blouse that did not restrain her movement overmuch, and insisted the color be Abibaal purple.

Tanyth was given a work of art, the tailor designing for her a gown that accentuated all of her charms. She requested white, telling him that she wanted her garments to reflect Quiyahui, as she was her husband's sigil. He agreed, insisting that her scorpion be honored equally, and accenting the shapes with lines of Abibaal purple. Her skirts were long and flowing, with slits nearly to her waist, displaying her shapely legs. The bodice contained a cut out so as to show off the golden scorpion at her navel, with a matching diamond upon her back. Then it wrapped tightly about her shoulders to maintain her shape.

I was so accustomed to my wife's nudity I was surprised to find her somehow even more beautiful when clothed. Now my feverish mind hunted for glimpses of her body, and the gown expertly teased me by almost, but never quite, showing me what I sought. Tanyth caught me staring and gave me first a scolding look, but instantly softened, wrapping her arms about me and kissing my cheek.

The tailor had our clothing ready the day before the Argenteaux Festival, which would last for a week. When we woke on the first day, music already danced on the wind. We donned our new clothing and Lyta led us down into the city.

The higher one went in Mairault, the more was made of stone, the lower, the more that was wood. I began to see that they had expanded Mairault's modest boundaries to a shocking degree, building piers, wharfs, and all manner of wooden structures over the water. Much of the buildings had obviously previously served as ships, now made sedentary and repurposed as homes and businesses. Mairault was a maze, built up piecemeal with no real plan for how it would turn out in the end, and this chaos gave it a uniquely vital feel.

Its people were a handsome, if often wind-burned lot. Their skin ranged from a pale olive all the way to a deep nut brown, and their dark hair always had at least the suggestions of a curl. Their eyes were bright blues and greens or else a warm, woody brown. Their fashions were of the kind worn on ships, though often of much better quality than one would wear on the water. Breeches were common, with loose blouses, waistcoats, and wide-brimmed hats. They often went barefoot, or wore simple, soft shoes. For Argenteaux, they added festive face paint in blues, greens, and turquoise.

Music danced from every plaza. Vendors sold food on every corner. Barrels of wine, blessed with sigils to Nauphane, the Mairese sea goddess, stood on every block. The custom was to carry a cup, and dip it into any barrel one passed. One of the goals of Argenteaux was to spend the day pleasantly drunk, which I admirably achieved. It was mildly amusing to me that this barrel wine was better than anything in Kharsoom, and even more amusing when none of my companions liked it. Only Tanyth drank, and she did so only so as to not offend.

Our group was a curiosity. Lyta was famous throughout the island, and anywhere she went was followed with smiles, murmurs, and waves. Teht, lumbering along behind us, received as much attention as a wall. Tanyth was of course noticed, as was Quiyahui. Men and women approached all of us, all wanting to be friends with the strange arrivals from far away. The handmaids especially enjoyed the attention, flirting with all who came near.

I found myself down on the wharf watching an exhibition of Gouren Dour, so called "water wrestling." It was an unarmed mode of combat practiced by Mairese sailors codified into a ritualized contest. I was enchanted and immediately developed a love for the art. Over the course of my long life, I foolishly thought I could master it, but I was never more than adequate. Ironically, thanks to my great age, I am now by default the greatest practitioner of Gouren Dour alive. I spent hours watching the sailors battle one another with a series of brutal holds and athletic throws before Tanyth dragged me away.

I returned to Lyta's home swimming in wine and with a belly full of street food. The handmaids brought home a trio of sailors and took them to their chamber. Jassam and Saroya retired to their room followed shortly by Ujaala. The rest of us gathered on the garden courtyard, resting on the couches, listening to music from the city and the crashing of the waves. Shaluvia shortly fell asleep, and Quiyahui coiled quietly in one corner. Tanyth lay atop me, her head pillowed on my chest, close to sleep. Teht loomed at the edge of the courtyard, becoming a shadow in the dark. Lyta and I remained awake to talk. She sat on another couch, her legs gathered up beneath her, her gown pooling about her.

"What happened to you?" Lyta asked, sipping at her wine.

"Happened?" Tanyth shifted. She listened to my heartbeat. She told me once she found this comforting, and I would never deny her. Subtly, she moved one hand beneath her body and between my legs. Lightly, she caressed my length beneath the robes, gently hardening me.

"You look different."

"I was shipwrecked on the way home and I washed up on a distant shore. Oddrin... Oddrin was killed. I could not use my magic to survive. The wilderness nearly killed me, but it made me strong."

"It suits you," she said, her green gaze crawling over me.

"Luxury suits you. You were always beautiful, and now you have surroundings worthy of you."

"You're sweet. I missed your letters. When Alia told me you were lost... I feared the worst. I know you were already an adventurer then, you'd even been to war, but I kept thinking of you as that boy I met in Iarveiros."

"He never would have made it off that first beach," I said. "I nearly didn't. My... exile... tested me." That was the first time I called those years by that name. It was also the moment I knew for certain they were behind me, that this was truly a new chapter in my life. One I hoped wouldn't be as harsh.

"It did good things for you. When we first met, you looked like a boy. Now, you're taller. Broader. You look like a man."

"I cannot compare to him," I said, nodding at Teht.

"No one could," she said with a grin, then a glance at her wine.

"Oh?"

"We've had too much wine," she said. Tanyth's strokes grew more insistent, pressing upon me, trapping my length between my thigh and her palm. I grew beneath her attention. Soon I would be hardened to discomfort. "Teht, come here."

The golem lumbered forward. He was a fascinating creature. He was handsome, with rough, square-jawed features and a heavy brow, but a curiously sensual mouth. Fire glowed from his eyes. His skin was the deep brown of baked clay, and he carried with him the pleasant smell of pottery. When he moved, he made soft sounds at the edge of hearing, a faint creak that reminded me of heavy trees swaying in the wind.

"Your clothing," Lyta said.

The golem removed his kilt without hesitation. I saw now what she meant. Teht was endowed like nothing I had ever seen. My paramours often remarked upon my size, but I was as the littlest finger compared to the monster this artificial man carried between his legs. It nearly reached his knees and was thick around as a woman's forearm. Lyta had worked incredible detail into it, more even than in the rest of the being. Veins punctuated its vast surface, running down to a heavy tip. It was obvious what part of the golem was most important to his creator.

Tanyth sat straight up, her eyes wide. "By the valor of my clan!"

Lyta's laugh was musical. "Perhaps I went too far."

"What do you do with it?"

"What do you do with your husband's spear?"

"How does it fit?"

"With difficulty." Lyta admitted. "I would not want it every time, but sometimes..."

Tanyth shook her head. "There are times when I think Bel will split me in half."

I embraced her, kissing her neck. "You bear it well."

"I could handle it." We turned. Shaluvia stared at the golem, desire dancing in her eyes. She had awakened from her slumber at some point in our conversation.

"Shaluvia," Tanyth scolded. "That is Lyta's creature."

"Forgive me," Lyta said, "I am not an expert in Kharsoomian ways. You are a warrior?"

"I am the princess's warmaid. I protect her," Shaluvia said proudly.

"You are a respected member of her household then. I would be honored if you tried to take Teht. I think that would be a lovely sight for all of us."

Shaluvia glanced at her mistress. Tanyth, her eyes alight, gave a tiny nod. Shaluvia undressed, the scant clothing she had been given no match for her eagerness. She even stripped off her harness, and stood before us clad only in her collar, bracelets and anklets, her sex already glistening with arousal. "How is this done? Do I get him hard?"

"Teht," Lyta said, and indicated the warmaid.

The golem rumbled to her, his staff rising with each step. I was relieved to see that it did not get very much bigger as it hardened. Tanyth might sometimes feel as though she was being split asunder, but any bigger and I feared that would actually happen to Shaluvia.

"Can he feel?" Shaluvia asked.

"He can. You may touch him. He will follow your lead."

"I wish more men were like him."

She stepped to the golem, and ran her hand over the expansive surface of his spear. I was beginning to think that spear was perhaps the wrong term. Lance, perhaps. A shadow passed over Shaluvia's features, and I believe in that moment she had a moment of regret for her rash words, but she would not surrender before even being tested.

The golem took her in his arms, impossibly gentle for an apparent brute. He kissed her neck, his hands surprisingly soft over her skin. By the candlelight, she looked like the harder of the pair, her muscles defined against her taut crimson flesh, crisscrossed with scars. He was smoother, his body sculpted clay.

Shaluvia threw her head back and for the first time I saw Teht's open mouth. The light was golden, as though a fire blazed within him, an echo of the gold of his eyes. As he moved, it played over her flesh, catching the first points of perspiration. Shaluvia kept her palm upon his lance, stroking him. Erect, he was threatening, brandishing a great, blunt weapon.

"His skin is silkier than I expected," Shaluvia said, her voice rusty.

"Part of the enchantment," Lyta said. "I knew what I needed."

"How does he--" Her question vanished into a yelp as Teht spun her about. His hand went to her throat, his other ran down her belly. Her abdomen flexed, her hips pushing forward, seeking his touch. The thick digits were tender as they brushed over her lips. The caress was short, but it returned, moving over her with aching slowness. The golem expertly teased her sex. Her nectar flowed, her orchid glistening in the laternlight. She would need every drop of it to take him.

There was an element of curiosity to my attention. I was undeniably aroused watching the display, but it was strange. Shaluvia and I had a short dalliance with one another before I'd ruined things. Now, Kharsoomian custom forbade me touching her. My feelings for her were never love, but affection, and attraction in plenty. Now I was going to watch her be taken by a brute. My staff strained against my robes, Tanyth's hand moving more quickly over me.

Shaluvia writhed against the golem, reaching behind her to stroke him up and down. The golem never showed any sort of desire, content to tease more from her. Her musk hit the air, mingling with the dense aroma of the flowers and the scent of the ocean. Shaluvia moaned and sighed, her body quivering. I knew such feelings well. The last time I had seen her that way, it had been me behind her. She was ready. She wanted something to fill her.

Tanyth's hands were insistent, rubbing me in time with her warmaid's stroke. My own touch began to roam, my hands finding their way to her breasts. I stroked the flesh through her dress, but as her nipples grew hard, I could resist no more. I pushed the fabric aside, taking her breast in my hand, and finding the places she so loved to be fondled. I could not take my eyes from her warmaid's wanton display. Tanyth stared as well, her breath hitching as my fingers spiraled over her nipples.

"Bel," she murmured. She did not say anything else, but spread her legs slightly. I touched the hem of her dress, drawing it up slowly, revealing inch after inch of her crimson legs. As the tops of her legs were revealed, I caught sight of her juices covering her inner thighs. Her spicy scent hit me then, and I needed her. My hand moved between her legs and she moaned, covering me in her sweet nectar.

Teht bent Shaluvia over with sudden strength. The time of teasing was over. She steadied herself on the arm of the couch, presenting her haunches to be ravaged. He shifted, lining himself up. Her eyes went wide as he eased himself into her with inexorable intent. She uttered a breathless curse, her eyes and mouth wide.

"What do you think?" Lyta teased.

"I... water and poison! I... I feel him everywhere! He is behind my eyes!"

"He's barely inside you."

"You... must have a cunt as vast as the world!"

Lyta gave a throaty giggle. "Merely a woman who likes to feel stretched, hmm? If it's too much, I can call him off."

"No, curse you." She looked over her shoulder at the impassive face of the golem. "Fuck, you beast. Fuck me."

Teht never waited for his mistress's permission. He began to push himself into Shaluvia, to take her all the way, for she was still at the edges of what he could promise. She quivered against him, on the precipice of fear. I had felt her hungrily devour my spear, but the golem's lance was too much for her. Still, she needed it. Shaluvia's face was a mask of pain and terror, but warring with it was desire. She wanted everything and more, even as her gasps were increasingly desperate. I was not certain if she was afraid of the sensations she felt or the ones she might not be strong enough to experience.

Tanyth gasped too. Her folds were soaking. I stroked them, finding her pearl, circling it, then dipping inside of her. I brought my fingers to her lips, and she sucked them into her mouth, her tongue washing over each one, then joining my mouth in a searing kiss. I returned my hand to her sex, teasing, caressing. She undulated against the attention, her one bare breast catching the soft light.

Her hands were busy, now hunting through the layers of cloth for my staff. Finally, she succeeded, revealing my turgid sex to the caress of the air. Her thumb found my tip, swirling the juices she found there and coating me. Her silky caresses ran over me, bringing me swiftly to the place she already was.

Shaluvia let out a choked cry as the golem buried his lance in her. I couldn't understand how she was taking it all, or if indeed she was. He had certainly found the extent of her sex. The expression on her face, a sweet agony, was hypnotic. Her knuckles had turned white where she gripped the couch, but her body was boneless. She shivered uncontrollably, her skin glistening with sweat. It was every effort for her to stand against this impossible feeling, but she was resolute.

The golem withdrew, and blessed relief exploded over her face, then he moved back into her, wringing a broken sob from her. Now each thrust brought another from her, growing in pitch. Her grip on the couch slipped. Teht, without hesitation, lifted her off the ground. He held her by her hips, pushing up into her body without mercy.

Tanyth could resist no longer. She moved her hips up, her hands guiding me to the overheated gateway of her sex. She sat, pushing me in to the hilt. The blistering pleasure ignited our moans. Tanyth leaned back to kiss me, but we were both unwilling to take our eyes from the show of the warmaid and the golem as I thrust into my ecstatic bride.

I knew well the sight of the warmaid finding her bliss. She had found it in endless waves. Her cries were at once begging for mercy and more. A new wave crashed over her every time the golem buried his lance within her. As though he knew, his thrusts had become increasingly brutal, hammering into the helpless Shaluvia. I had never seen anyone pushed so far beyond sensation, and I believe that had we tried to stop it, she would have hurt us.

Tanyth leaned forward, her hands on my legs, rolling her hips to take me in waves. She had been practicing from a stroke taught her by her handmaids, learning how to use it in the way I most enjoyed. I stroked her lower back, where a cut out in her gown revealed a diamond of flesh stretching from just below her shoulder blades down to the dimples above her buttocks, and to either edge of her slender waist. An expanse of flesh both smooth and beautiful.

I felt Tanyth stutter, a gasp rising in her throat. Shaluvia sobbed once more, and I looked into her face, her expression of one past pleasure and pain into something entirely new. The bliss roared from me. I pulled my wife down over me, flooding her with hot jets of my seed. Tanyth gave a high cry and she too shuddered, her sex embracing mine, unwilling to let it go.

Teht gently lifted Shaluvia from his lance. The warmaid was entirely limp, her eyelids fluttering. He cradled her in his arms. She was utterly insensate.

"Take her to bed," Lyta said. The golem lumbered from the courtyard and into the house. "She might well need the healer tomorrow. I'll have him fetched at daybreak."

"Excuse us," Tanyth said, gently rising from where we joined. "I am not usually so wanton."

"Don't apologize. We were enjoying a lovely show, and you only made it lovelier. I feel like a fool for not having Jassam or Saroya here. Or both of them."

I embraced Tanyth, kissing her temple. "The healer, you say?" I asked.

"It can help. If nothing else, some soothing unguents will help her recover. I suspect that will not the last time she asks to use him."

"I suppose no woman could take that without some help."

"She did far better than I the first time. Still, Teht is not for every day. Nor everyone." She rose. "I am going to see if my lovely spouses are awake, and if they aren't, I plan to wake them. Goodnight you two."

We bade Lyta goodnight and remained in her garden. Tanyth snuggled in my arms and I found myself lulled by the crash of the waves. "This is a strange place," Tanyth said.

"I suppose it is. Many places are going to seem strange to you. Kharsoom is more unlike the rest of the world than anything else."

"That sound... it feels ominous."

"The waves?"

"Yes," she said. "It sounds like they plan to eat this place."

"I grew up with that sound," I said. "It makes me think of rest, of sleep."

"I have a sound like that. For me, that is the night wind through the onyx trees of the Forest Issatesh."

"I have some fond memories of that sound as well. Though it always felt lonely to me."

"That is some of the appeal," she said, cuddling closer to me. "The feeling like you're the only one in the world for just a moment, and then remembering that you're not."

I kissed her once more, unable to resist her. "Come. Bed calls."

"Think you've got another in you?" she asked, touching my groin.

"Still hot from our show?"

"Don't pretend you're not." She led me to our bed, and neither one of us was surprised when I managed another.

Shaluvia walked gingerly for a couple days afterwards, and I caught her gazing longingly at the golem more than once. We enjoyed the rest of the festival. I ate and drank more, watched more of the wrestlers, danced with Tanyth and Lyta in the impromptu concerts throughout the town. I could understand why Lyta loved Mairault as she did.

The day after the festival ended, Lyta led me down into her library. It was the lowest level of the house, built into the living rock of the island. She had managed to burrow out of the side of the rock, giving even this room a balcony. Despite the open wall and the sea closer than ever, the air inside was cool and dry. Quiyahui frolicked on the wind outside, while Lyta's moon cat looked for a place to nap among the books and curiosities.

"The air in here, an enchantment?" I asked.

"Of course. I can't have the salt air eating away at my books."

"I'll need to learn that one from you," I said.

"I'll teach you," she said. "But you'll need a library to protect."

"I was thinking of getting one of those."

"They can be quite helpful," she said, "but expensive."

"This is an impressive place," I said. "Not only your home. What you're doing with the island."

"Islands, plural. Mairault has four."

"Islands then." I chuckled. "I would not have thought this of the girl I met in Iarveiros."

"She might not have."

"Why this?"

"The Heacharids," she said. "The Turquoise Conquest. Mairault is powerful in its way, true. We are wealthy, thanks to trade. We have many friends through the Turquoise and even beyond. We have a military, though it is mainly privateers. Yet for all that, if the Heacharids came for us, we would last a year, maybe two. Axichis showed that none are safe."

"And just because they stopped their advance does not mean they will not start it anew."

"I don't need to tell you how hungry the Heacharids are. They would put a boot upon the neck of everyone in Thür if they could, and they mean to try."

I sighed. "That they do. I had not thought of them overmuch in my exile. Some, yes, but there was blessed forgetfulness. New enemies to battle. Now I return, and they are there, waiting."

"Mairault is not far from Axichis, and would be a valuable port should they want to attack Castellandria. That is the musing that consumes me."

"Part of me wonders if they would be so foolish to attack the Castelpont, but I know the answer to that."

She nodded. "Now I guide Mairault in hopes that we can deter the Heacharids if necessary."

"They should count themselves lucky that it is you. Someone who has loftier goals than mere temporal power."

"It is important to me that I remember that." She paused. "Do you often think of the girl you met in Iarveiros?"

"You are one of the few people that understands what it is to be one of us. A wizard."

"I feel the same way. Castellandria is quite close. I trust you'll write."

"And visit, if you'll have me. The nearest standing stones are outside the city, but not egregiously so."

"As often as you like, Bel."

"The next time, you will let me host you."

"I would like that. What of Iarveiros? Do you plan to see your Tarasynora?"

"I want to return home, spend time there. I need to get my house in order. Then I'll see the elves. I would feel like a vagabond going into Iarveiros like this."

"I don't know. I think those priggish elves would look at you and your duchess would be wetter than the Turquoise."

"You think so?"

"I told you, Bel. Your exile sits well upon you. Look at that goddess you seduced." She gestured up, where we had left Tanyth in the courtyard above.

"I seduced a literal goddess," I said with a smirk.

"You did not!"

"I did. It was the only way to get my magic back. Although I believe she seduced me."

She giggled. "Well then. I do not think the boy at Iarveiros could have done that."

"Perhaps not," I conceded. "There are times I scarcely believe this man did it."

As wonderful as it was seeing my dear friend, home called. I could no longer bear to delay my return any further. I told Lyta, and she beamed at me. Lyta's smile is truly something to behold. "We will see you off properly, then."

She did. We had dinner out in the courtyard. She brought a great table there, with space for all of us. A cook from the city prepared a great feast. Candied figs, thick bread, olives, goat cheese, oysters, and fish of every kind, baked, and stewed, and poached, and smoked. A mairserpent, baked and served whole, was the masterpiece. The chef carved steaks from it at the table, and the tangy flesh melted in my mouth. For dessert, Lyta served ice soaked in fruit juice, a delicacy native to Svarlskell, that she was able to provide thanks to certain enchantments.

At the end of the feast, I leaned back in my chair, satisfied, and silently thanked the vintners on Saumont for aiding my digestion.

We spoke about nothing as the sun set over the Turquoise Sea. Tanyth rested her head on my shoulder, and I kept an arm about her waist. Jassam and Ujaala kept exchanging looks that were not nearly as surreptitious as they might have assumed. Later, after night had truly fallen, after the remnants of the feast were taken away, I approached Ujaala.

"If you wanted to spend the night with Jassam, you may."

"You're certain, my lord? This goes beyond the requirements of hospitality."

"I would rather you were happy, Ujaala. You have my permission and if Jassam obtains Lyta's, I see no reason the two of you can't enjoy yourselves."

"Thank you, my lord," she said, getting on her toes and kissing my cheek. Shortly, she and Jassam quietly left. Saroya left shortly thereafter with the handmaids. Tanyth kissed me. "I'm tired, my love. Enjoy yourself." She flicked her eyes to Lyta meaningfully, and made her way back to her room, Shaluvia in tow. That left only Lyta and me. Our familiars had curled up on opposite ends of the courtyard, apparently sleeping. Teht loomed against one wall, but he was little more than a shadow. Despite the show he'd put on with the warmaid, I never thought of him.

I refilled my wine glass and joined Lyta out on the balcony overlooking the sea.

"Do you realize we have been friends half our lives and this is the longest we've ever spent together?" Lyta asked.

"By a large margin," I said. "Although not the last time."

She touched my goblet with hers. "That I vow."

"I envy you, Lyta." I shook my head. "No, that's wrong. Envy would imply that I'm angry. I'm happy you have this. I want it as well for myself."

She smiled. "I understand what you mean. I find myself envying your travels."

"They were hard."

"I see only the rewards. That remarkable spear, your incredible familiar. Your wife. But I know you experienced the kind of hardship I can't imagine. I want you to have this too. I want you to know some peace."

I sighed. "I think there is hope for that. But I don't think I will truly settle down, not the way you have. I still crave more horizons."

"That is what makes us such good friends. Enough in common to speak, enough differences to be interesting."

"Imagine if we hadn't happened to strike up conversation before we became diversions for elvish nobles."

"Tell me," she said, her green eyes flashing, "what is the most wicked thing your Tarasynora enjoys?"

"The cleric's kiss," I said mildly.

She frowned. "Cleric's..."

"You know the knight's kiss?"

"Of course."

"The cleric's kiss is..." I gestured, "round the other way."

Her eyes widened. "No! I saw your elf! She's so... prim!"

"She loves it."

"You must have quite the talented tongue."

"Now you."

"Vallyn..." she paused and looked about, then laughed. "I thought he would appear suddenly."

I joined her laughter. "I know how you feel."

"Well, Vallyn has a device that I wear. A false spear. He likes it when I wear it and take him. He pretends that I am the elf and he's the virginal young wizard's apprentice. He always has me talk about how I'm going to put a baby in him."

I laughed. "Oh my. I was not expecting that."

"Neither was I!"

"And you enjoy it?"

"It's fun. That first week, it was refreshing. All the others wanted to put it in me, but he was different. He's wonderfully vulnerable after. It is kind of sweet." She shrugged. "Now you think I am wicked."

"A bit," I said, "but no more wicked than I."

She stepped to me, and I could smell the wine on her breath and the perfume in the air. "Where did you learn the cleric's kiss?"

"Tara was the first woman I tried it upon."

"You like it?"

"I do. Not as much as I like other things I can do with the same part of a paramour, but it can be quite fun."

"Now I think you're wicked," she teased.

"I certainly can be," I said, sliding my hand along her waist, the brocade under my fingers.

"Belromanazar!" she scolded. "If I didn't know better, I would think you are trying to seduce me."

"I am not the only one trying," I said.

"Well, perhaps. Watching you with your wife has me curious. And as I said," she ran her hand up my chest. "I like the way you've filled out."

I drew her closer to me. "I like the way you feel."

"Oh, my dearest friend. You haven't felt a thing yet."

Her hands went to my cheeks, and she pulled me into a kiss. She tasted of excellent Saumont wine, and her tongue was agile, caressing mine. We allowed our mouths to explore one another, a soft kind of congress. She stroked my chest, my hands falling to the place her skirts bloomed out over her round hips.

Heat grew between us. Our friendship had been a quiet treasure between us, a mutual attraction simmering beneath the surface, finally boiling over. I found myself hunting about her dress, looking for a way to get it off her. I chuckled when I could find nothing.

"What?" she asked breathlessly.

"It has been a long time since I actually had to undress someone."

She giggled then. "Oh, you will love this." She kept one hand against my heart as though she was unwilling to lose contact, her other tracing along the border of her dress where bodice met skirt. The scent of a lovely summer day rose from her contact. The skirt fell away, dissolving in the air like a burning piece of parchment, the bodice of her gown becoming a corset cinched about her waist. Stockings reached her knees, tied with bows, leaving a smooth expanse of olive flesh up her smooth thighs to her rounded hips. At the apex was a delectable triangle of black fleece.

She ran her finger over the top of the bodice then, and the fabric retreated once again, freeing her heavy breasts. I attacked them, taking her brown nipples in my mouth, licking, sucking, and nibbling. I lifted her from the ground in my passion, and she yelped happily as I set her on the railing of the balcony. Below, the sea crashed against the rocks, a demonstration of our passion.

"Take your robes off, Bel," she said, her breath coming quicker. "I want to see you."

I pulled my robes over my head, casting them aside, then dropped the loincloth from my body. She grinned as she beheld my turgid staff, reaching for her body. She touched it, swirling her silky hands over my length.

I felt as though I were possessed. The feelings spurred me. My love for Lyta, not properly romantic love, but a deep, collegial affection made me want to please her. And this act was a symbol. Being with her meant I was coming home. She was not precisely home, but she was someone from my old life, someone I knew before my exile, someone who wanted me back.

"Had I known your ardor would be like this, we would have done this the first night," she breathed.

"This is not the last time we will lay together," I vowed, kissing her again. Her arms wrapped around me.

I found myself at her entrance, her body hot, her fleece wet. I slid into her easily. No sense of adjustment, no need to go slowly. She took me easily, gasping as I sheathed myself, her fingers tensing on my back. After Teht, I should not have been surprised she had no difficulty. She felt wonderful about me, soft and wet, milking me as I worked in and out of her. I caressed her breasts, our lips finding one another's, her eyes bright with desire. She rocked forward, taking me, then back. We moved against each other, for what felt like forever, our pleasure growing with every moment I was inside her. The crashing of waves rolled over us.

I was filled with an urge, and I gently lifted her off me. I was slick with her, shining. The night air caressed me, sending a shiver over my body. She grinned again, sliding from the balcony railing to fall to her knees before me. She looked up, her green eyes sparkling, her licking her lips. Then, without further preamble, she took me in her mouth, her tongue running over my length.

"That was not my intent," I gasped, my hand upon her head, my hips gently rocking against her.

She let me go with a pop, stroking me with an agile hand, the tip of my spear resting on her smooth cheek. "Would you like me to stop?"

"Please don't."

"You've always been so well mannered," she teased.

With a growl, I took her head and guided her to me. She chuckled as she began to suck me in earnest. Her hands were active, teasing all around me, caressing my flesh, milking my staff. Her mouth made an admirable sheath for me, and she took me well, to the edge of her throat before retreating. And when she did it was with such a powerful sucking that I scarcely minded I couldn't take her to the hilt.

"You're almost finished," she said, standing. "I want you to finish inside me."

"Night tea?"

She nodded. "Although could you imagine our child?"

I grinned. "We can discuss that at a later date. I need you now." That was the first words exchanged in the agreement that would eventually result in our son, the Turquoise Mage, but his birth was still many years in our future.

She nodded, and I caught a gleam in her eye. Lyta is calculating, and I do not mean this as an insult. She is a dear friend and will always be, and she has her plans, and her plans within plans. In our long friendship never has one of these plans been against me, and so I trust her. She had not let that slip impulsively. She was planning for the long term safety of Mairault.

I still had that same thought that she had interrupted with her skillful knight's kiss. I spun her about roughly. She bent over the railing, her full buttocks in the air. "Take me, Bel. Take me hard."

"All things come to those who wait."

I gave her buttocks a playful slap, enjoying the jiggle, then gripping them in hand. I spread them, and there, in the middle, found the dark ring I sought. She squealed when my tongue brushed it. "Oh, oh, Nauphane!" she cried, finding religion at the end of my decadent kiss.

For me, I found the earthy taste I craved. She was mine, gripped with this unexpected pleasure. I took great joy in this act that was at once one of mastery and supplication. I held her, tonguing the elastic opening, teasing it to full arousal. I danced about its center, then pressed into the middle, taking her. My hand slipped between her legs to caress the furred folds of her sex. She spread her legs wider, giving me more access to her. I worked my tongue in one side, my fingers in another, and she writhed happily against the railing, grunting and moaning, a slave to pleasure.

I stood up only when I had brought her to the same place she had brought me, and she gave a tiny sad moan at the momentary pause. I had not intended to take her in the way I now would, but she had shown interest, and now I could want nothing else. I spoke a few words of power that had long been denied me. My staff and the winking hole now glistened with a slick coating of grease.

I pressed myself against her, and she uttered a throaty groan. "Oh, Nauphane, Bel. Yes, please."

I took her hips, pulling her to me as I thrust. She was just as eager, pushing back. She opened, accepting me into her. Our moans were in unison, almost relieved as we united, both of us realizing that we were now close to our sweet end.

I sank into her. It was easier than I had ever had with anyone, at least this first time was. I couldn't help but smile. Of course Lyta was experienced in this. She was so beautiful, and she did love the feeling of being absolutely filled. She was, in many ways, my reflection, a path I could have taken. She must have had as many carnal adventures as I. And now, she was giving herself to me in this way. It was an incomparable gift, an act of friendship so profound that it would unite us always.

I shifted my grip, my fingers wrapping about the iliac points of her pelvis, easing myself in and out of her in slow, aching strokes. She moved against me, matching my pace, gripping the railing. Below, the waves crashed in counterpoint to our passion. She took me ably, swirling her hips as she held me in her sweet, decadent embrace. We found incredible pleasure in one another, utilizing our skills to bring the other to new heights.

My thrusts grew harder, Lyta uttering a happy groan with each impaling. Our breath was as one, each one faster. Our coupling had become frantic, the two of us surging together, a great ocean of pleasure between us. It needed only to break, to wash over us in thunder.

Then finally it did. She cried out over the cliffs and I took her fully, my staff filling her with hot seed. The pleasure hit me in waves, again and again. I could only hold onto her, and she to the railing, her body clenched about mine. It was forever before the two of us returned to ourselves.

She breathed, holding the railing, bent double. I gently leaned over, kissing the back of her neck and sighed, reaching back to wrap an affectionate arm about my neck. We gently disengaged ourselves. She ran her fingers over her hems and her gown once again covered her. I was forced to dress in more mundane a fashion. She embraced me, banishing any sense there might be awkwardness between us.

"That was wonderful," she said.

I kissed her mouth, finding reserves of passion. "Certainly gives us more to do when we see one another."

She hugged me tightly. "Sleep well, my dear. I have one more surprise for you in the morning."

"Do you?"

"It will wait for tomorrow, love." She kissed me once more and went inside, her buttocks swinging like an enticing pendulum. I found myself thinking of taking her again, and chuckled to myself, shaking my head.

I returned to my bed, sliding in next to Tanyth. "Were those cries of passion I heard?" she asked, rolling over to pillow her head on me.

"They were."

"Good," she said, kissing my cheek. "She is a lovely host and I was honor-bound to provide her a proper bedslave."

My laughter was at least as boisterous as Lyta's bliss.

The following day after breakfast, we gathered our things. Clothing Lyta had purchased, and the odd souvenir from the festival. We fetched our qobads from the stables, and Ksenaëe squawked with annoyance at me before nuzzling me with her head.

As we approached the docks, I caught sight of several ships of Heacharid design. Rage grew within me. How dare they show themselves in this place? I readied myself to show them that the Dreadstorm had returned. Diotenah whispered approval in my mind, the ring ready to harness my magic for its own purposes.

As we drew nearer, I soon saw that these ships did not fly the burning rose of the Heacharid Empire. Instead, the flags were black, adorned by a crescent moon pierced with three arrows. Five ships flew that flag, moored side-by-side. Three of them were familiar, not simply for their design. I knew these specific ships. Boards had been replaced, new scars traced the hulls, but I knew these.

Lyta's smile was bright as she saw my expression. "Your eyes do not deceive." She called up to the deck. "We're here!"

A face I had not thought of in too long appeared. She was older, the wrinkles in her wind-burned face deeper. Her skin was tanned a deep olive, and she clenched a wooden pipe between her teeth, exhaling clouds of fragrant smoke. She wore a simple sailor's garb with a wide hat. She was barefoot, and she carried an amazonian blade at her hip.

"Kucyone?" I breathed.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, lad," she said in Akleona, the language of the amazons.

"You old salt!" I embraced her, lifting her off the ground in my joy. My old captain, no my admiral, who had commanded my fleet during the war.

She laughed, patting me on the back. "Put me down, lad. You're quite a bit stronger than the string bean I remember, and I've another decade of wear on these old bones."

I set her down. "Forgive me, Kucyone. I've missed you. I didn't realize how much."

"I missed you too, lad. Feels foolish of me to be sentimental about war, but you get to used to people."

"What are you doing here?"

"Just because the war's over doesn't mean I have to make it easy for the Heacharids. I suppose I'm what you'd call a pirate, though the Lord Governor was kind enough to provide letters of marque. Thank you for that, Matriarch."

"Benefits us all," Lyta said.

"I still have The Huntress, Storm's Price, and Sudden Squall," she said, gesturing to the familiar ships, "and they're joined by those two there. Capture a prize and it joins the fleet. Kill the Heacharids with their own ships."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"Don't start with that," she said. "War was lost. If you stayed, you'd have been lost too. All that's left is to bleed them."

"What are you doing here?"

"You needed passage to Castellandria," Lyta said. "Kucyone was taking the fleet that way."

"How did you know about her?"

"Who do you think bore Alia of Freeport here?"

"Come on, lad, get your people aboard," said Kucyone. "And those ridiculous birds. Soon as everything's aboard we'll go. Take you to Castellandria in style."

I embraced Lyta once more. "Thank you for everything, Lyta."

"It's thanks enough to have my friend back." We kissed once, a soft, affectionate peck, and then I joined my retinue aboard The Huntress, bound for home.