Clans of Luteri Bk. 02 Ch. 03-04

Hey, Everyone. Long note here that you're welcome to skip, of course. So I am writing this as you're finishing the previous book, because the lit moderators need time to review and post. They're still really fast, if you think about how much they have to read. But I didn't want any of you to think I'm an ungrateful wretch who takes things for granted, because I'm not and I don't. It's just a lag. Also recognize that I did not have your comments yet when I asked for you to say if you wanted the next book. That lag can sometimes create weird effects. I wouldn't have asked at that point, truly. I would have just done it.

First, to everyone who commented and emailed: I'm really pleased people are enjoying it. I was going kind of blindly there and you all switched on the light. Thanks so much. I know some people had criticism, and I was prepared for that and I think a lot of the critiques are valid. I'll continue to post until the ending and it'll be two chapters, if that's okay. I've set aside something else to edit faster.

To the person who wrote the long note after chs 7-9: Your comments were detailed and articulate and generous, and I'm grateful. I'm not really looking to fix it because I have other things published and because, honestly, I think these novels are what they are. I call them novels simply because they are that length and are a complete story. Rather than self-publish, I'd rather just put it here for Literotica readers I know. I really appreciate the feedback and the time you took to write it. Thanks.

To Eaxia who emailed and noted the Pretty Woman thing. Cheers for the encouragement. Yes, it was deliberate, lol. Sharp eye.

Hey to skygreene. It's been a pleasure chatting with you.

Hi, Tess! Lol, welcome back.

Hello, Pretty. I never forget you.

-Harp

Clans of Luteri: Luteri

Chapter Three

When the sun was beginning to go down, Aslin looked as they topped a rise down into a clear grassy area directly outside of the forest in front of Tavishi Hold. Unlike Corsaire Hold, which was entirely made of black stone and was strict in its straight lines and measured perfection, balanced and square, Tavishi Hold was set in trees with autumn leaves turned colors as if it grew out of the landscape instead of sat on it. Its shape was organic and unpredictable, smoothed mortar.

The great vertical walls rose straight up through the tall trees and well above them. The castle was made of stacked stones with many colors of rock, light and dark, varied, and tall thin spires and black peaked roofs coming to sharp points. The structure seemed almost random, as if it had all been made at once but each part was shaped to serve a purpose. There were no edges anywhere on the surface of the huge edifice, all of its corners rounded.

At its front was what she recognized from Jaime's books about Luteri was a barbican, two guard towers connected by a walkway that went over a great ornate iron gate, then the smaller gate she had come to expect, inset with a repeating pattern of butterflies, to Aslin's surprise, in its center.

"Butterflies?" she said to Kane, her mouth twitching.

"That is our standard, yes. Corsaire is, as you know, the Aspen trees, and Duellan is a torch, and Prash a key. Noëthe is a ship because they are lowland idiots."

"A butterfly seems a little...," Aslin began, and then paused, searching for the word. "Harmless, doesn't it?"

"I don't know the last person who was killed by a tree except maybe falling out of one, Aslin. Our standard is not about war, but about who we are as a clan. Tavishi mean change by it, transformation to something greater."

They wound their way down, the castle rising as they descended, the village coming into view past the barbican, the gates as tall as the tallest Alverian building and still not as tall as the castle behind it. The land was strangely empty, woodland and hills all around. There was a break in the trees to far hills and she saw what she thought were Luterian sheep, craning her neck, small dots in the green distance.

"Why is there a well?" she asked him, spotting it directly outside the gates.

"For any who come here after a journey. It is a symbol of hospitality and welcome."

Kane slowed Shaol to wait for her on the wide path until she was riding next to him again as they began to make their way down, the way a little steep.

"We have not always been in feud, Aslin. Tavishi had a very long history, they tell me, when our clan gates never closed and Corsaire were allies to us and welcome here."

Kane didn't speak for a while, as if he were thinking about it as the Hold came into view. Then he looked at her.

"Both our clans are very tired and bitter and too proud and all of us have lost people we loved we were supposed to protect," he said. "Three hundred years is a long time, Aslin, even for us. It's been all my life, all Ruthe's life. All my father's life, all your father's life. There is nobody left alive who even remembers a time when hate for each other was not our heritage. The mark you bear is Shai's message to our people. The bond tells all Luterians she approves the peace."

Aslin began to see what it had meant when these people thought she had died, all hope of ending the feud honorably dying with her. Why Kane had gone to Corsaire Hold with her even though he knew they hated him, even though he knew it would make him angry to do that. Why Kane had agreed to give her his oath when she was a child.

Luterians viewed her bond with him, the scar, as a blessing from Shai, and all five of the Luterian clans worshipped the Goddess.

The gates came into view. She felt Kane's surprise to find a figure standing there, waving. A woman in a gold Luterian dress. She had wavy thick brown hair that caught the sunlight like fire, rich and deep, drawn away from her face and falling well below her waist. She was tall and lithe, a Luterian knife at her slim waist, and as they got closer Aslin saw flashing eyes, a warm smile. She was beautiful.

"Kane!" the figure called, still waving.

Aslin felt Kane's surprise, and then he closed the bond. He didn't acknowledge the woman until they reached the gates.

"Helene," Kane said as the woman opened the smaller gate wide enough for the horses to get through.

"I'm happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

This was Kane's sister. Helene closed the gate behind them and locked it, turning to the cobbled village street much like the Corsaire village, although different, too, the village shops shaped differently, linked to one another and tall. Helene walked with confident strides, going to her horse and mounted with ease.

"I am meeting you, what do you think, you ass?" the woman answered. "I have always meet you at the gates. How is Jaime?"

"He's well," Kane said shortly, moving Shaol forward, his sister going in front of him.

"That's Aslin?" Helene said, turning around and looking past Kane to her.

Aslin was surprised. Helene knew her. But of course she was the only Corsaire to whom Kane had—or ever would have, for that matter—given his oath.

"Obviously, Helene," Kane said, his tone saying he didn't want to talk anymore.

Helene frowned, looking back at him. There was nobody in the streets in the village, as if they'd all gone inside, although Aslin saw more than a few faces in windows, the curtains falling if she glanced that way.

They entered through the archway of the castle under the barbican. Aslin looked up through the murder hole, seeing an edge of a cloud in blue sky through it, and then they were past it and had come to a huge courtyard, similar to Corsaire Hold. They dismounted, Helene leading her horse into the stables next to it, Kane and Shaol following, Barley behind, and then Aslin and Ilian.

Kane motioned Aslin to a stall with Ilian, nobody speaking. A Tavishi man came and took the small pack horse, not looking at them, Kane nodding his thanks. The man speaking kindly to the animal, leading him away.

Aslin did the same with Ilian, hearing the silence between Kane and his sister. Aslin brushed Ilian, patting her. Ilian turned her head for scratching, Aslin delighting in her soft nostrils and the feel of her mane, brushing the animal until her coat shone. There was a great deal of her to do and Aslin located a small stool, standing on it. Ilian liked it, she could tell, the horse looking drowsy and content, one back hoof coming up to rest. Then Ilian went from sleepy pleasure to instant awake hostility, tossing her head, and Aslin turned to see Kane framed in the stall opening, watching her.

"You'll brush her coat right off in a moment," he said. "Are you ready?"

"I'm sorry. You were waiting," Aslin said, putting the brush away in the slot provided, looking to make sure there was water and hay, brushing her hands against each other.

"I don't mind, Aslin. I'm pleased that you care for Ilian so much."

When Aslin came out, Kane was waiting for her outside the stable doors, Helene standing off to the side, looking unhappy. Helene led them back into the courtyard and from there they went through wide double doors, propped open, very tall, and into the castle.

It was Corsaire Castle but not, a different feel, different colors, a more disheveled warmth here. Aslin looked around as they passed a room with a low ceiling and drying herbs, the smells strong and a little acrid, other wide passages coming off the one they walked. There were very few people, those they saw pretending not to see them or walking away as soon as they approached.

Finally they came into the Tavishi High Lord's Hall, huge, a great fire lit already, the room warm. Helene went in first, and then Kane, who glanced back at Aslin as they moved past long rows of tables and chairs under banners with gold butterflies, their wings lengthened and linked in a repeating pattern against a dark brown background.

She followed Kane until they were standing in front of the two chairs in the front hall. Like Corsaire Hall, one of the chairs was empty. And like Corsaire Hall, a man sat on the other chair there. There were many people, Tavishi, women and men, lining the edges of the room, but they were quiet, not quite meeting her eyes when she looked around, a sense of waiting.

Aslin looked at the seated figure. She was surprised to see how much Kane resembled his father, since he and his sister looked so different. Bache was obviously older, his hair showing white that cut through and added another color to the same blonde-streaked brown hair that his son had, coming well below his shoulders, wavy like Kane's.

Their faces were cut similarly, strong and stern features, beautiful, a little cruel, intelligent. They were both big, but Kane was taller, a graceful quality missing in Bache, who was more stocky, his face less open. Kane must have gotten his grace from his mother, Aslin thought, and suddenly saw the resemblance between Kane and his sister Helene, standing beside him.

Bache rose to his feet and stepped forward to face them. He turned to Helene.

"I know you have usually met your brother at the gates, Helene," the Tavishi High Lord said, "but this was not a time to do that."

Helene flushed. Hurt flashed across her features, and then anger. She turned and walked out of the Hall, her back stiff. Aslin looked after her, dismayed. Kane touched the bond and she opened it.

"You didn't cause this," he said to her.

"I'm sure she just wanted to see you, Kane," Aslin said, glancing at the High Lord. "I know you are close to her and you've been away so long."

"I'm pleased to see her, too. But I would have been more pleased if I had met her again after I could present you to my father and my clan, Aslin, as my oath and my bond," Kane said.

At this last, he looked at his father. Aslin looked at Bache as well. The High Lord was looking at her mark, staring at it as nobody had since she had come to Luteri. She fought the impulse to cover it. He approached her. Bache moved slowly, putting his hands on either side of her head, huge hands like Kane. He bent and kissed her on the forehead. Bache stepped back from her, speaking clearly so everyone could hear.

"When my son agreed to give his oath for the sake of his clan, I was proud. But it pained a father's heart. To see a bond between you makes me very happy. I could imagine no better gift from Shai than to see my son with his dutul."

"Thank you, High Lord," Aslin said, relieved, still nervous, and then corrected herself. "Bache, I mean to say."

Bache studied her face. She resisted the urge to look down, her heart beginning to pound.

"What does your oath fear here?" Bache said, turning to look at Kane with concern.

"She was not raised Luterian, Father," Kane answered. "She doesn't understand many of our customs yet.

She has only recently learned of the feud and fears that you will see an enemy instead of a daughter."

The High Lord looked surprised, and then his eyes narrowed at his son in speculation. He looked back at her. He came and took her hands, speaking gently.

"You are my son's oath and his bond. You belong here with us, with your clan. Welcome home, Aslin."

His eyes were warm and she couldn't help smiling at him. The whole hall seemed to relax. Bache stepped back, holding her hands out and looking at her. Aslin tried not to blush, but she did, of course.

"She's very beautiful, your bond," Bache announced, turning to Kane and leaning in a little, adding in a low voice. "Bliche."

She looked at Kane, whose mouth was twitching. She could feel him trying not to laugh. She sent a demand through the bond. He turned to her.

"He means you've got nice hips, Corsaire."

Bache frowned at Kane.

"All the names you could have offered to express your affection and this is what you choose?" he said.

"Yes," Kane said, unrepentant, grinning outright now, his eyes dancing with humor. "You know what they say, Father."

Bache looked at him blankly and then realization came to his eyes and he began to laugh, glancing at her, laughing harder. Others who had heard the comment did, the comment repeated and causing more laughter.

Suddenly the whole hall was alive, everybody speaking at once, people coming into the hall and leaving it. Bache pulled her close and swept her up in an embrace, setting her down again. He then walking to embrace Kane, both still laughing, both of them thumping each other on the back. People crossed in front of her, smiling at her, friendly, passing behind her, everyone seeming to be celebrating.

Kane appeared, taking her hand. He grinned and kissed her. When he drew back, she narrowed her eyes at him.

"What do they say?" she demanded.

He laughed again, one hand going to her waist, his other around her back, pulling her against his lower body, his hand creeping awfully low behind her, almost to her bottom. She braced her hands on his chest and glanced around and his hand stopped. He grinned at her, his eyes going to her mouth.

"We say that Corsaire women are beautiful, Aslin, but also that they are passionate. It is a compliment, I assure you," Kane said, looking so happy and his feeling so elated through the bond that she decided she didn't know what he meant and also that she didn't want to know. He grabbed her hand, pulling her. "Come and meet my cousins."

After that it was introductions, so many Tavishi names she didn't remember, so many of Tavishi clan hugging and kissing her until she was dizzy and once again it was only their smells, the feel of them, soft and firm, men and women. They passed her around the hall from one side of it to the other until she was flushed and warm and her hair had half come from its braid. Then someone put a glass of something in her hand. She raised it to drink, thirsty, but Kane took it from her and sniffed at it.

"What?" she said.

"You'll be impaired very quickly if you drink that, Aslin, it being straight Mashi liquor," he said, sending Dute a dirty look, who shrugged, winking at her. "Would you like cider?"

"Yes, please," she said.

"She is polite, your oath!" a man called from two tables over.

"Does she invite you to her bed that way, Kane?" called another, laughter at that table.

"With an oath like that, I wouldn't care if she were very rude, as long as she did so," a man said two tables over, and now several tables were caught up with laughter.

Aslin felt her cheeks go hot. Kane drew her to him from behind, his arms around her. He brought his mouth to her ear, speaking low.

"They are teasing you, Aslin. It's our way. They do it because they like you, and to let you know you're wanted, and to make you feel welcome and a part of us. All of us tease each other, and sometimes it's crude, yes, but we don't mean anything cruel by it."

"Corsaire teased you," she pointed out quietly.

He scoffed.

"That wasn't teasing. That was insulting."

"What's the difference?"

He looked at her, making a face to show the answer was obvious.

"If it's your clan, of course."

A boy caught her eye, wending his way through the hall toward them, his eyes on a cup in his hands, careful not to spill it. He gave a man a dirty glance who almost bumped him, sidestepping. She was surprised when he brought it straight to her, watching the rim.

"It's just cider, Aslin, and hasn't got any liquor in it to make you drunk," the boy said when he arrived as

he handed it carefully to her, his eyes still on the lip of the cup to ensure it didn't spill as he introduced himself. "I'm Brendel."

She took it from him as carefully. It was very full. She thought the boy had maybe poured it himself.

"Thank you, Brendel," she said, smiling down at him.

He finally looked up at her. The boy's eyes went wide and his ears turned bright red and he choked once. He turned straight around and walked away through the crowd to laughter from those around them.

"What did I do?" she asked Kane, who was laughing with the rest.

"You are far too pretty for a Tavishi boy only twelve to be on the receiving end of one of your smiles with a cool air, Corsaire," Kane said, still laughing. "We men have to learn our coolness with women through failure. He probably won over his cousins to bring you the drink and then he got here and he panicked."

More laughter, others obviously agreeing with the interpretation.

A bell sounded, evidently for dinner, and everyone moved to the formal tables, Aslin sipping at her cider so she could move it more easily and following. The tables were gleaming. There were china dishes with ornate, rich patterns, white cloth, crystal goblets, and white fat candles with herbs on the table that were lit and that smelled wonderful. The room was warm, the fires roaring. It was a blur of colors and voices.

Kane guided her to a seat. People were already talking and laughing, the hall full of voices. She looked up when Helene appeared at Kane's elbow.

"I apologize to you, brother," Helene said stiffly. "I should have greeted you after you had seen our father."

"I am glad to see you, Helene," Kane said, getting up and pulling her into a tight hug, withdrawing and putting his large hand behind her head, drawing her close and kissing her on the forehead. "I have missed you. I have letters for you."

She smiled back at him, her eyes lighting. Then she looked at Aslin.

"I welcome you, Sister," she said.

"Thank you," Aslin said awkwardly. "I am happy to be here."

"I had better sit before the food is gone," Helene said, going around the table.

People brought food and everyone began to eat, still talking. Aslin relearned the names of people around her as they spoke to each other. People came to the table at times and greeted her. A woman, Mina, came and sat across the table and down two chairs, speaking low with a boy. Aslin recognized Brendel. They were mother and son, she realized. Brendel's eyes were alert, excited.