Clans of Luteri Bk. 02 Ch. 01-02

"Ilian has a sweet nature for her line, Aslin, much like you," Ruthe told her from a distance. "I thought you'd be a match. But she will be overprotective for a time. All Luterian horses are when they first meet their rider. The Tavishi will have to watch his back until she calms," Ruthe said, seeming happy. "Don't let Shaol mount her."

Ruthe turned his head to glare at Kane.

"I don't approve that," he said jealously. "I breed the Borta, Tavishi. I made Shaol, you remember that, made him the animal he is. I decide."

"I'll respect it," Kane said brusquely.

Ruthe seemed to pause in surprise. He narrowed his eyes at Kane.

"Good then," he said, not graciously.

In Alveria, Kane had taught her the leg motions as if anticipating this moment, all her Alverian bridle signals useless here. But while her head knew them, her body didn't yet. Ruthe spent another two hours in the courtyard with her after she was on Ilian, the horse very high up in the air, very strong under her. Aslin knew her cheeks were flushed, they always flushed when she was excited, and she couldn't stop smiling, her hand patting Ilian's shoulder every once in awhile, Ilian nodding her head as if she agreed.

Ilian was not a warhorse, being a mare, but she would protect her rider, as Ruthe explained it. Ilian was trained to respond to the whistles Luterians used with their mounts, which Aslin would also learn. Luterian horses rarely bolted out of fear, he said, and were more likely to attack something that startled them than flee from it.

Evidently the jump with their front feet stiff was something they did to kill snakes, which Luterian horses hated more than anything. They would actively hunt one if they saw it, and Ruthe told her it was better to just let Ilian do it, whether Aslin was riding her or not at the time, as the snakes were a danger to their riders anyway, their venom sometimes deadly.

"Ilian will keep you in the saddle if she can," Ruthe told her, working with Ilian effortlessly despite the horse's hostility. "She's trained to learn to respond to her rider's body. She feels your skills and she'll help you. She's a confident animal. You will be confident as well, Aslin. Just give it time."

Aslin had finally turned her head to smile at her father, who was still watching. He had given her one of his rare smiles back, the kind that made you forget he was High Lord of Corsaire, forget how stern he could be. That said he watched her because she was important to him.

When Ruthe was satisfied, Aslin got off and dropped the reins, Ilian going still. Aslin had gone straight to her father, not thinking about it so she didn't lose her nerve, throwing her arms around him. His had come around her tight and she was engulfed in his warmth and smell, so familiar. When her father released her, kissing her forehead and tugging her braid once as if he used to do it, she went to Ruthe.

"Thank you, Ruthe," Aslin had said. "Thank you for choosing Ilian, for helping me."

Ruthe had laughed at her manners and pulled her to him, hugging her tightly and releasing her.

"I'm pleased to see you so happy, cousin," he'd declared as Ilian gave a warning chuff.

Ilian and Kane had stayed in the courtyard when three Corsaire women had suddenly surrounded her, dark-haired, dark-eyed, laughing and talking. They had pulled her into a room and pulled off her Alverian dress in a moment, laughing at her modesty and absolutely howling at her undergarments, stripping her of those as well, holding them up to themselves, chattering in Luterian so fast Aslin had difficulty keeping up.

She had learned their names—Napina, Lorita, and Mani—as they helped her into the Luterian clothing, making all sorts of comments about her—that she had firm breasts, such lovely nipples, her waist tiny and her bottom nicely rounded to cushion a man's thrusts, that she was so bliche, whatever that meant, and did she enjoy bedding the Tavishi, so handsome and dangerous looking, what was that like, was he skilled and did he know his way around a woman's body or did he just poke until he found the spot he wanted, her cousins avidly curious.

At that point Aslin's cheeks had burned so hot the Napina had declared she was going to burst into flame, all of them laughing.

The dress was Corsaire blue, a small repeating pattern over a black background, very pretty, shorter, more a tunic, and Aslin needed the help. The dress was complicated, loops and layers that draped and folded, nothing she could do by herself yet, with soft pants—pants—made of sturdy but supple material under it, warm slippers with hardened soles. She buckled her knife over it.

Kane had liked it on her very much, his feelings through the bond entirely lustful.

When she'd come back into the hall for the midday meal, Kane had been sitting separately again, already eating. She had gone to him, not having spoken to him since the morning, but he shook his head and waved her back.

Her father had embraced her again in parting after, and many others of Corsaire clan had stepped forward to do so as well, passing her around until her braid was mussed and all she really remembered was the feel of them against her, their smells. Then she had mounted Ilian, reminding herself of the commands.

Kane had gotten Shaol, who on seeing the mare had done a double take that had all Corsaire guffawing.

"Remember what you swore, Tavishi!" Ruthe had called, seeing it.

Shaol had thrown his chest out, arching his neck and lifting his tail high, practically prancing as Kane got on the distracted animal. At Kane's suffering glance at him, Ruthe had laughed aloud.

"At least I'll have the satisfaction of knowing one of you is frustrated," Ruthe called to him.

When they came to the boundary between Corsaire and Tavishi lands, a line of fir trees, Ruthe pulled his horse to a stop, the other Corsaire men doing the same, and Kane did, everyone ignoring that they had done so, and each other.

"I will leave you here, pretty cousin," Ruthe said to her, bringing Deter alongside Ilian. He reached and touched her cheek, Ilian flattening her ears. "If you don't like your welcome from Tavishi clan, come home to us. If you decide to renounce the Tavishi so I can kill him, come home to us. And if you cling to him for pity, still come home to us, and we will miss you until you visit. We are your clan too, don't forget us. We will look for you."

He turned his horse and Aslin gazed after him, already missing her father and Corsaire Hold, the warm inclusion, the familiar smells that stirred such deep memories. She looked at Kane, who got off Shaol and stood at a careful distance from Ilian, motioning her to dismount. She did, dropping Ilian's reins.

She went to him. He reached and unfastened her cloak, pulling it off her and putting it over his arm, the Corsaire blue tunic dress and long pants under it.

"You won't be cold, Aslin?" he asked her.

"No, I'll be warm enough," she answered, puzzled.

"A Corsaire approaching the Tavishi gates have not been cause for celebration for a long time, Aslin, and my clan don't know you are alive any more than your father did. If I don't want them to think you're my prisoner and to treat you poorly, they will need to see the bracelet, see the mark, to know who you are to me," he explained quietly. "Once they know it, Tavishi will leave us alone until I have introduced you to my father."

She was suddenly more nervous than ever. He put his hands on her face, leaning his forehead against hers.

"You have my heart and they will know it," he told her. He pulled back. "Are you ready to meet Tavishi?"

"Only if they don't drown me in the moat," she said.

Kane scoffed.

"Tavishi don't have a moat, Aslin, that's Corsaire clan craziness to surround yourself with water in battle when half of them can't swim. Tavishi Castle has a murder hole."

"A murder hole," Aslin echoed. "What is that?"

"Actually, we have several. It's a hole, Corsaire, over which you stand on high and shoot arrows or maybe pour hot oil or tar on your enemies below if you know they are coming."

"Because that's less crazy."

"Of course," he replied.

He grinned. She touched the bond. He opened it immediately, his eyes green more than gold today. He was happy. Then a flash of wariness. She looked in time to catch Ilian stepping sideways, almost sliding, looking elsewhere. The mare was not where Aslin had dropped her reins, having drifted considerably closer to where they were standing, as if the wind somehow had blown her there.

Kane turned and looked at the mare, who didn't move, but Ilian turned her head to look back at him, flattening her ears, her eyes going murderous and insane, her neck coming forward and her teeth clacking at him. Kane looked at Shaol, his glance accusing, but the warhorse's eyes we're on Ilian, his ears up, ignoring his rider.

"Dumbstruck ass," Kane muttered.

Aslin walked to Ilian, who snuffled and blew on her.

"I'm quite well, thank you, Ilian," Aslin said firmly, Ilian pressing her head against Aslin's chest.

"You are a pair, I can see that, both with your manners," Kane said. "She is sweet-natured, Aslin. When Shaol first chose me, he wouldn't let any person within ten feet if he witnessed it. He gave one man a bite so deep on his shoulder who greeted me I felt badly for it and gave him my best knife. I won't be helping you mount for awhile."

His mood was light, even joyful, as he moved to get back on Shaol. Aslin looked at him curiously. His eyes slid to her.

"I'm proud to bring you home to my father and my clan, Corsaire, proud of your fire and your intelligence and your beauty, proud that you are my oath and that we are bonded."

She was smiling just feeling his elation. She mounted Ilian. They rode, both horses content.

"It's something rare, Aslin, Shai's mark you bear," Kane said to her after a time.

"The scar?"

She reached and touched it, feeling the raised flesh, briefly self-conscious. The dress showed it easily. She had seen how people looked at her with pity in Alveria, although Corsaire had not appeared to notice it. They were just being polite, obviously. She'd already decided it didn't bother her. Kane sighed, getting the flavor of her emotions through the bond and guessing at her thoughts.

"You wouldn't think that way if you'd been raised in Luteri, Aslin. Luterians find it beautiful and remarkable, a sign of Shai's favor, a mark of your bravery and the strength of what is between us. There's only one other Luterian woman living who bears it, Minit, the Prash High Lord's lady. The last one before that was my mother, Aletha."

Kane urged Shaol into his strangely smooth trot, not like any other kind of horse, and then into their loping canter, Ilian keeping up easily. They quickly moved out of the lowlands as the day progressed and Kane slowed the horses to a walk as they began climbing up through the trees, a wide path.

They rode until afternoon, Kane stopping for them to eat, sitting in the field across from each other, the wind up and fragrant. When they were done eating, Kane came and put his head on her lap, reaching and playing with her braid.

"I like you in Luterian clothing, Aslin," he said slyly, reaching to cup her breast over the dress when she looked down at him. "I'd demonstrate how much by taking it off of you now, but Tavishi would tease us."

"What do you mean?"

"Tavishi are here," he said, gesturing generally around them with his other hand. "They are curious and they've seen your mark."

She looked around, pushing his hand away. There was only the forest, the sky, boulders, tall grass below them on the lowlands she could see through a break in the trees.

"They have been with us since we crossed into Tavishi lands," Kane told her. "I imagine word is spreading through Tavishi Hold with every step Shaol takes. We know our own borders and who enters and leaves them."

"But why would they hide?"

"They're not hiding. They know I know they are there. But the High Lord my father Bache will greet you. It's not anyone else's place."

"Me?"

"Yes, mi dutul."