Tears in a Dry Land Ch. 08

His release was explosive, matched by a cry from his hoarse throat. Heavy threads of seed jetted from him, thrown across his belly and his chest, thick, slow flows running down his length. He jerked again, droplets of spend spattering her face.

Sophia held him steady, feeling the warmth of his remaining spend on her hands. Carefully, she bent over him, her eyes shining as she drew him inside her mouth to gently lick and clean him as he softened.

With difficulty, Yunan began to recover his poise, smiling with his more accustomed control, his eyes bright with genuine affection and gratitude. Sophia did not look at him, until he reached one fingertip to lift a stray droplet from her cheek, proffering the finger to her parted lips. Blushing, her tongue snaked out, sucking the droplet quickly from his finger.

Clapping his hands, two serving women soon entered the room bearing a tray with a bowl of warm water and a towel and another with bread, cheese and fruit and a large jug of chilled pomegranate juice. Sophia began to protest as one woman cleaned Yunan while the other came to help her off the floor and back onto the couch where she could rest more comfortably.

"Hush, my dove." Yunan touched her lips with a single finger. "Your skills have brought me such pleasure, it is only right you should rest. Take but a moment to refresh yourself and taste the bounty of the season and then I shall see to your own pleasure, as you to did for mine."

Sophia blushed, hiding her face in her goblet. The sharp tang of the juice sliding down her throat made her realise her thirst and she drank, grateful of her Lord's thoughtfulness at such a time.

As the women departed, Yunan came to sit beside her on the couch. He dropped a grape into her mouth and as she chewed, took another in his own, holding it crushed between his teeth so the juice dripped a fragrant path down the deep valley between her breasts. Lowering his head, he followed the path with his tongue, licking and kissing as he removed all traces of the trail.

He could hear Sophia's breathing deepen as his hands began circling and looping across her. In a moment she rested her hands on his arms, as if to prevent their travelling.

"Are you fearful of me, little dove?" Yunan asked, his head moving to lick her neck, "I will be gentle with you, I promise. Your skills have quietened the savage beast within me. I seek only to bring you pleasure as you brought mine."

Sophia whimpered. "I do not fear you, Kallikrates, perhaps I fear myself at this time. It is hard to lose myself in the pleasure you offer me. There has been no other man beside you who has loved me."

"Then let me remind you how this man loves you in so many different ways."

Yunan lowered his head once more to gently nibble the flesh on her breast while his hands tenderly cupped and explored them. He returned frequently to kiss her mouth before descending once more, nuzzling into the crook of her neck and shoulder to taste and kiss. Sophia's breathing was ragged as his lips opened to enclose her nipple, his tongue brushing around it before latching on to suck the engorged pebble, squeezing it against the roof of his mouth until he tasted the drops of sweetness which gathered at the tip.

The skin on her belly grew taut as his hand brushed downwards towards her silken mound. He stroked the soft hairs, sensing the moisture building in her cleft, a single finger brushing over the petals of her hidden flower. Easing himself upwards, he moved against her, almost moulding his body around hers. Like a parched man, he sought her fragrant mouth, then lowered his head to her neck again, his mouth eager against her, his fingers sweeping against her sides, down the soft underside of her arms, against her armpits then on down her sides before returning to her lips for further sustenance.

Moving downwards, he let the side of his face rub softly on her breast, suckling momentarily, before lifting his mouth to her ear, his tongue flickering into the tiny cavern, a warm, wet, squirming presence.

He whispered into her ear, "When land is dry..." his tongue dove in once more, "...it may need water."

He grasped the flagon of juice and poured a tiny rivulet from the top of her belly so it flowed like a mountain stream into the valley below. His tongue followed the trail, darting around her protruding navel, over her mound, kissing at her groin – gathering sweetness at the nook there with long sweeping licks

As he knelt on the floor before her, his face was against her now, his tongue flat and lapping with long upward strokes followed by shorter downward strokes - swinging from side to side. In the heavy, noonday silence, he heard her mumbling incoherently as her legs spread wide to allow him greater access to her hidden places.

His fingertips rested on the inside of her thighs, his bearded cheeks brushing against her legs. His head nodded as he sought to push himself into her, long strokes upward leading him to her clit. He sucked softly, hearing her whimper and groan, rapidly flicking his tongue up and down, then side to side, his head vibrating to send tremors through her.

Lost in his love, Yunan's lips and tongue caressed and tugged, swirling and circling, again and again.

"My Lord," Sophia cried, the words tore from her, her hips arching towards him.

Yunan sensed her urgency, his mouth working her bud relentlessly. He felt her stiffen as her legs pushed against the floor, her mind lost in the cloud of sensations threatening to overwhelm her. He renewed his attentions, stroking her vigorously, catching her fluttering hands and gripping it tightly as her legs began to shake and her body convulsed around him.

With his face buried deep in her Yunan swallowed her flowing juices, relishing the taste of her. As she spasmed, her thighs gripped him tightly, causing his attentions to ease, waiting for her convulsions to subside. As her body began to shudder with aftershocks, he slowed, simply holding himself where he was until he could ease himself upwards, moulding himself around her back and holding her to him.

She turned towards him as best she could and he kissed her brow, murmuring endearments into her hair. He was very aware of his painfully swollen shaft rubbing against the heat of her groin. He did not intend to enter her, but his manhood moved of its own volition to bury itself in her welcoming cavern.

Her cry of joy spurred him on to place one foot upon the floor so he could control the force of his penetration. Even with such a shallow entrance, his need for her was so great he thrust inside her again and again until his seed brought soothing moisture to them both.

They lay, panting, in each other's arms until Yunan felt the muscles across Sophia's belly tighten again. This time she cried out with pain, curling herself around her womb until the moment passed.

"Rest, my love," Yunan held her tightly in his arms. "You have done so much, our child is but making her presence felt. Lie back and rest until you feel well enough to return downstairs."

Sophia closed her eyes, feeling a soft cover placed around her. Yunan was right, she was so very tired. She had done what she craved. She had shown her Lord how much she loved him and he had honoured her beyond her wildest dreams.

It was dark when she awoke, brought to her senses by returning pain. It came as a wave builds up to pound against a rock, subsiding only when the rock is fully saturated with salted spray.

Saturated. Sophia moved herself across the couch. The cushion underneath her was soaking wet.

"What have I done!" she cried, her breath caught up with sobs as the pain began to grow once more.

Yunan, too, was drugged with sleep, but when he heard her voice he leapt from his couch, fumbling for tinder to light a lamp and bellowing for Penelope and her women to attend with all speed.

It took some time to help the distraught Sophia climb down the stairs to the women's quarters. When pain ravaged her body, all she could do was stand where she was, clinging to Yunan's shoulder, her fingernails digging into his flesh as if he were the only thing keeping her from screaming into the night.

He longed to pick her up in his arms, to shorten the journey for her, to ease her torture, but he did not dare. If he should fall at any time, his precious cargo could die. It was not a risk he could take. So step by slow step they descended the rooftop stairway, Memnon in front to catch them if they fell and Surak behind, down into the very heart of the mountain.

Penelope was waiting for her in the birthing room. To the left lay a shallow pool fed by warm springs bubbling up through the rock itself to ease her pain. To the right stood the birthing stool, no longer associated with fear and in the corner was a crib filled with the softest blankets, swaddling bands set ready on a table to wrap the baby as soon as she arrived.

At first, Sophia was reluctant to release Yunan from her grasp, but Penelope patiently explained how much better she would feel if she let the women tend her. They understood her pain, her fear, her distress. Hers was not the first birth in this room. They would care for her, allowing Yunan to fulfil his role in making sure everywhere was safe for the baby to be born.

"It is too soon," Sophia sobbed, leaning against her friend's strong arm.

"Nonsense," Penelope wiped her sweating brow. "It is the perfect time. It is often said a father's seed will lead a child out of her confining womb. Come now, we have everything prepared. All will be well."

Despite Penelope's words, the next few hours were amongst the most harrowing in her life. Sophia was indeed about to give birth – not the slow, extended labouring of a mother with her first baby, where a day or more can pass before her womb fully opens, but a savage quickening with pain rolling on after pain as if the child could not wait to make her entry into the world, insisting her mother help her in the shortest possible time.

So it was, just four hours after Sophia awoke, in the darkest part of the night, her womb opened and the child was born. It was, as she predicted, a girl.

As the women wrapped the tiny, screaming bundle in her swaddling bands, Sophia began to push again. Penelope thought it must be the afterbirth appearing, but to everyone's surprise, a second child thrust itself into her waiting arms. It was a boy, a perfect boy, with hair a deeper auburn than his mother's and eyes as blue as a cloudless sky.

As Penelope laid him down on Sophia's belly, so she could tie the chord, she felt a shiver pass over her. The prophecy was fulfilled.

When mother and babes were all settled, the father congratulated and a wet nurse summoned from the village to help Sophia feed the twins, Penelope climbed wearily up to the roof gardens to catch a first glimpse of the waking sun.

As she sat looking out over the valley, the enemy cooking fires just visible on the horizon, she felt Yunan's hand touch her shoulder.

"You are a skilled midwife, daughter." His voice was filled with emotion. "Without you, they could all have been lost."

Penelope reached up to clasp his hand with hers, leaning against him as if his very presence gave her strength.

"It was no skill, Papa; it was the Mother Goddess herself looking after Sophia and your children. Only she knew Sophia's womb hid two within its depths. I had no idea, yet I was the one looking after her since she arrived here."

"I suspected something," Yunan admitted, "When I listened to the heartbeats yesterday in the observatory, I heard an echo – at least I thought it was an echo. Now I know it was another heart beating as strongly as the first."

He stood, watching the horizon in silent contemplation.

"Will they attack?" Penelope asked.

"They may, but they will not succeed. They could never succeed because they only know one half of the prophecy. The whole has been guarded from generation to generation until the time to speak it aloud should arrive."

"How shall we tell them?"

Yunan looked down at her and smiled. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"Just before the rains come. When the skies darken, we shall present my children to the people and you will speak the whole prophecy to the world."

So it was. Over the following weeks, Sophia recovered from her ordeal. Cherished by her family, she blossomed into the beautiful women she was always meant to be. Both children suckled vigorously, each day bringing a new change, a new wonder to their sheltered world.

When they were three months old, Yunan set the date for their naming and acknowledgement. Without telling Sophia, he sent word to her father and both he and her brothers and sisters arrived to join in the festivities. To roars of approval, the children were named Alexander and Ruth. Despite all the noise, they lay in their mother's arms, contentedly watching clouds gathering above them.

As Yunan raised his arm for their attention, the crowd in the courtyard fell silent. Light was fading and the first drops of rain fell on upturned faces. Penelope stepped forward, dressed in the pure white robes of a seer of the Mother Goddess, a role fulfilled by the eldest daughter of the Household since time began.

In her hand she held a parchment tied around with golden thread. Those close enough to see the ancient lettering were in no doubt this was a momentous occasion.

Penelope stood, feeling the long line of oracles speaking to her across the generations. As she opened her mouth, her clear voice carried down into the villages and onto the plain so all people bound to Kallikrates would know the truth. The prophecy was fulfilled.

"Let all people hear the words of the Sibyl.

"On the seventh night of the seventh month, a golden moon will rise in the sign of the ram. On this day shall a son be born to the House of Kallikrates. His hair will be the colour of the moon and his eyes the colour of the sky. He shall grow straight as the tallest tree and his arm will be as strong as the mountains. His heart will be as brave as the lion and all the people of the valleys will fall to his sword. Great will be the glory of his name.

"At the same time, a daughter will be born to the House of Kallikrates, her beauty as a shadow of her birthmoon. Where there is sorrow, she will bring joy, where there is fear she will bring hope and all will come to seek her wisdom. She shall be the peacemaker come amongst us and her name will be honoured forever.

"Thus is it so."

As the last syllable echoed against the mountain, lightning flashed across the sky followed by thunder crashing to herald the arrival of the storm. Sheets of water fell onto parched earth. Soon the dry land would be watered and flowers blossom where once there was only dust. The drought was gone.