Demon Child Ch. 09

Tollarra made a sympathetic sound as she carefully spread the ointment, "Sister, why did you do it?"

Aylanna lay still, "My Khan forbids me to speak of this."

Tollarra did not speak of it again, but Aylanna could sense her concern. When Tollarra was finished with the ointment, Aylanna turned to her and impulsively wrapped her arms around the older woman, "I am sorry. One thing I can say is that I will not run away again."

As she lay uneasy and sleepless in her blankets, Aylanna thought back to the scene in the grass. She had knelt before him, forcing herself to remain silent as Jhardron had wielded the whip. She had not even allowed the sobs to leak from her sealed lips.

Almost more painful than the lash striking her skin had been the turmoil in Jhardron's mind. She could sense the reluctance that seethed under his resolve. It seemed like with each blow of the whip his reluctance grew until he could no longer lift his hand. They had stayed frozen in that position with her on her knees before him, the whip dangling from his nerveless fingers for what seemed an eternity. Jhardron had not spoken again, wordlessly picking up her shift and pushing it into her hands, tying the ropes around her ankles and lifting her to lie across the pommel of his saddle.

Throughout the ride back to the camp, Aylanna had been battered and confused by the intensity of his feelings. Normally remote and closed from her, for a brief time he was naked to her senses. Rage, grief, and something else, something softer warmer and somehow ultimately frightening seemed to surge and eddy through him. When the camp had appeared before them, it had been like a veil had been pulled across his face and he was gone from her again.

)===(>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<)===(

It seemed like Aylanna's courage had evaporated in the night. Her mood was subdued and sad as she awkwardly climbed into the wagon. She looked longingly at the sight of Tim'kah taking his turn walking at the head of the draft horse pulling the wagon, but the hobbles around her ankles made even walking beside the wagon impossible.

Aylanna rode beside Tollarra seated high on the wagon. She hated riding in the wagon. She struggled against the impulse to retreat into self pity. Over and over, she silently repeated the words inside her head, "A ha'akh must always accept her Khan's judgment."

As usual the wagon was slow, the ride bumpy and hot. Aylanna tried to sit up, watching the grass and the sky. Tollarra tried to talk with her, but Aylanna seemed distracted, only responding with soft single words. Finally Aylanna lay back on the swaying wagon and listlessly looked up at the endless sky with heavy half closed eyes. High above she could see a raptor, slowly whirling in wide circles, its wings perfectly motionless.

Slowly she began to feel weightless, her spirit slowly loosening in its bond to her body. Almost imperceptively the rocking and bumps of the wagon were replaced by a swinging drifting movement up and away, soaring higher and higher to look down upon her body limp and empty.

Oddly her mood seemed to lighten without the weight of her body. She felt an electric thrill with the sensation of flight, turning and spinning in the air like the eagle above her. As the circle of the horizon expanded the wagons shrank smaller. She could see the horse herd moving along to one side. Several warriors rode along, guiding them parallel with the path of the wagons. A soft sparkle of amusement shot through Aylanna as she saw Xin'sha repeatedly try to break away from the group of stallions, angling back toward the wagons, only to be turned back by the herders. The little mare whirled and raced back across the grass, shaking her head and kicking up her heels in defiance.

Almost without thought Aylanna drifted down to look more closely, swooping lower and to her sudden surprise, slipped right into the cantering mare. Instantly she was one with the cantering horse, her hooves pounding on the ground, wildly exhilarated and filled with joyful freedom.

Xin'sha stumbled and then locked all four feet, skidding to an abrupt stiff legged halt. Her ears were sharply pricked and quivering with curiosity. Aylanna was completely immersed in the duality of the experience, sensing the mare's amazement as well as her own. The little mare craned her neck around to look for Aylanna on her back, her nostrils flared and sniffing the air. Clearly the mare sensed her presence and was actively searching for her.

Cautiously, experimentally Aylanna urged the Xin'sha back toward the herd and was pleased when Xin'sha calmly trotted back.

It took a concerted effort to pull free from the little horse, but Aylanna instinctively knew she had to go back; she had to return to her body. There was a distinct slipping, almost ripping, sensation as she pulled out and away from Xin'sha. There was a building sense of fear that it would be easy to lose herself: weightless, bodiless, blown away like a puff of smoke on the wind. But with the fear was the temptation to fly away, perfectly free, the horizon beckoning, the voices on the wind suddenly louder. Aylanna could almost hear the words, they were calling to her.

She flew up and up again, gaining height until she could see the wagons again. Briefly she hovered over the form of her sleeping body and then almost like putting on an old and familiar garment, she slipped back into herself.

The headache was almost blinding and she barely made it to the edge of the wagon before she was retching convulsively. She could feel Tollarra's hand holding her, supporting her. The second ha'akh's voice was calm and solicitous, but Aylanna could sense her fear and confusion. Once Aylanna collapsed exhausted back into the wagon, Tollarra questioned her, "Sister, tell me what afflicts you."

Aylanna blinked and coughed, "It is the motion of the wagon. It sickens me." Instinctively she did not speak of her journey away from her sleeping body. Weakly pulling herself up to sit, she reached for the water skin and drank, greedily sucking down the water.

Tollarra gently pulled the skin away from her lips, cautioning her, "Slowly, you will make yourself sick again." Aylanna nodded shakily and took a smaller swallow and swished the water around, rinsing the sour taste of vomit from her mouth.

Aylanna knew exactly what she had done. Spirit journeys were common among the witch doctors of the Ramaldi. Many times she had sat vigil as Kharthmah had lain as if dead. She knew too well that her sickness was her body's rebellion at having been abandoned. She also knew the longer she stayed apart, the worse her body's protest. And too long could be fatal.

An unbidden memory of the old witch doctor's frail and aged body, with the spark of life slowly fading and finally flickering out rose up in her mind. His spirit had never returned. She wondered if it wandered still. A shudder shook through her whole body. The realization chilled her to the bone. The voices in the wind, calling to her, she knew what they were.

Aylanna forced herself to ride in the wagon sitting up, uneasy with the thought that the wind was filled with spirits. Just the sensation of the air pushing and tugging at her, cooling the sweat on her face made her shiver with more than cold. It frightened her how effortless it had been to slip free from her physical bonds. For Kharthmah it had always been a laborious process of fasting, meditation, and a bewildering variety of hallucinogenic plants and mushrooms.

It seemed to Aylanna like the voices on the wind wanted something, like they pulled at her spirit. She resolved to fight them, resisting the mind numbing trance that came from the ceaseless soft hum in her mind. She took another swallow of water and then carefully tipped some into her palm and rubbed it on her face. Tollarra clucked and took a rag from her pocket and dampened it. "Tie this around your neck. It will help keep you cool."

Sighing gratefully, Aylanna wrapped the cooling cloth around her neck. "That feels good. Thank you. Let's talk. I want to try and stay awake. Sleeping seems to make it worse."

Tollarra nodded sympathetically, "Of course. Talking is one thing I can do." She grinned, "Endlessly, if you were to believe my sister-in-law."

True to her word for the rest of the day Tollarra kept up a steady stream of nonsensical prattle, funny stories and wry jokes about life. Aylanna could sense her friend's ongoing concern and made an effort to appear in better spirits than her heart truly contained. And to her relief just the continued charade seemed to lighten her mood. Eventually her laughter and smiles began to feel genuine.

)===(>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<)===(

Setting up camp in the afternoon was painfully awkward. Aylanna hated having to move slowly; often taking short hopping skips when she became frustrated with the restriction of the short mincing steps that the hobble allowed. Repeatedly her impatience made her stumble and trip, falling to her knees.

Finally when Aylanna crashed down for what seemed like the tenth time, she stayed on her knees fighting the tears of shame and frustration at her predicament. A strong warm hand gripped her arm, lifting her to her feet. Jhardron's voice was soft and admonishing, "If you did not rush about, if you did not fight your bonds, you would not fall."

Aylanna blinked away her tears and nodded, but did not trust her voice to speak. Jhardron continued, his voice pitched low for her ears alone, "A Bak warrior must learn to keep his emotions in check. A warrior does not rush from one task to another. A warrior that falls is little use in battle and a dangerous ally."

Aylanna stared in confusion at the ropes on her ankles, "But..."

Jhardron held up his hand and repeated, "A warrior must learn to keep his emotions in check."

Aylanna took a deep breath and nodded again.

The rest of the evening Aylanna resisted the urge to hurry, restricting her gait to slow tiny steps. Each time the impulse to hop along arose she would force herself to stand still and silently mouthed the words, "Keep your emotions in check."

The sun had sunk below the horizon when Jhardron come to stand before Aylanna. "A warrior must master many skills, patience not the least." Aylanna froze and stood quivering as he knelt at her feet and began to remove the hobbles. When he stood and took her hand, he smiled and murmured, "It was a lesson I had to remind myself of many times."

Aylanna hesitated, looking up at him with puzzled eyes. She could sense his need for her, but lately that craving had been a constant undercurrent to the few, guarded emotions she sensed from him. Uncertainly she nodded, and mumbled, "Patience is hard."

Jhardron smiled, "Tonight has been slow in coming."

Suddenly aware, Aylanna looked at him and smiled in excitement, her eyes looking past him searching for the others. Jhardron shook his head, "There will be no others tonight. A Khan must wait until last, but tonight you will serve me alone."

The idea of sharing blessings with only one man was a novel idea to Aylanna. Not once was there only one man with her. Even when the young men of the Ramaldi had hunted her down, they came as a gang, their excited brutality battering at her body and mind. Sharing blessings with the Bak Warriors was gentler, healing, and even transcendent. Always it had been a chorus of sensations and emotions that blended and sang in her heart.

Almost without thought Aylanna stepped closer and reached out to him, placing her hand over his heart, tipping her head to one side. Not only could she feel the drumming of his heart, but she could sense his excitement. Instantly she could feel her body soften and warm. Her words were soft and filled with trembling excitement, "A ha'akh must always accept her Khan's judgment."

As they walked together out into the growing darkness, Aylanna found herself leaning against the tall warrior's side, her hands pressed almost obsessively against his hot skin. When their steps slowed and finally stopped, she pressed her face against his chest, inhaling his scent. Impatiently she tugged at his loincloth and as it fell away she fell to her knees pressing her face to the fur of his belly, greedily inhaling, and filling her chest with the heady scent of his jhambar.

A wild rush of heat filled her body, she could feel her venya swell and ache with emptiness. Pulling back she stripped her dress off and lay back on the ground, spreading herself, wanting to be filled. She could see him look down at her, his eyes drawn to the ruby cleft. Aylanna whimpered and lifted her hips, begging to feel his entry. Jhardron dropped to his knees beside her; his hand gently pressing her down, "Patience, my little wild colored mare, patience. Let me teach you."

He lay beside her, pulling her close, but when she tried to pull him on top of her, he whispered, "Slowly, slowly, first let me touch you, look at you." Aylanna could sense that he was strictly holding himself in check, and lay back, her eyes locked on his, blinking and gasping as his fingers trailed across her skin. Each touch seemed to leave a fire ignited in her skin. When his callused palms slowly sensually began to rub in slow circles over her breasts, she cried out a soft bird's cry rising up to the wind as the sensation shot through her body, making her venya suddenly clench and throb.

Slowly the revolving palm moved down her body and stopped over the mound of scarlet curls that mantled her cleft. He pressed down and Aylanna moaned as the slow circling massage of his palm seemed to fan the flames in her body. A tiny whimper of protest rose up in her chest when she felt him shift and move away from her, moving so he could look more closely at the object of his fascination. But the whimper caught and changed to a choking cry as she felt his fingers curious and exploring, spreading out the slippery petals of her sex. Aylanna tensed and fell silent when she felt him bend closer, his nose and lips grazing her as he inhaled her fragrance. When she felt the warm soft sensation of his tongue touching her, a long shudder shook through her, making her hips surge and rock. For the first time she spoke, soft babbling words of need and pleasure, "Please, oh my Khan, please, I need... please... I need..." And then his lips and teeth slowly sensually pressed down, biting firmly gently on the flesh under his mouth. Aylanna convulsed and began to spasm with panshasham, her words blending into one long ululating wail. Mindlessly her hands tangled in the stiff coarse crest of his hair, pressing his face closer as she writhed with passion. She was still shaking as he rose up and slid deep into her. The slow deep rush of emotion that accompanied that entry erased all thought as she was transported by another wave of sweet pleasure.

Her body rocked and undulated beneath him, surging to meet each thrust to her depths. Her awareness expanded, joining him in his building heat and tension, seeking his pleasure with him. As his peak approached he crushed her tightly to his chest and Aylanna ascending that same pinnacle, pulled at his hips, wrapping her legs tightly around him, trying to somehow pull him completely inside her, to envelop him in her passion. As his climax scorched through his body, Aylanna arched and joined him, her cries blended with his soft growling groan.

Aylanna lay looking up at his face, blinking in surprise as the last echoes of her panshasham made her loins clench and tighten around him. Her legs were still wrapped possessively around his hips, holding him trapped inside her. A long shuddering sigh shook through her and she deliberately tightened the sheath of her venya around him, reveling in the way he reflexively ground against her at the sensation.

Aylanna reached up and idly straightened out part of his hair that had been disturbed by her grasp, a lazy smile crossing her features. Slowly, she let her fingers trail down the side of his face, caressing his lips. His voice was husky as he murmured under her touch, "This humble warrior thanks you for your blessings." His fingers matched the path of hers on her face, "Your blessings have a sweetness rivaling the priestesses of the city. You are truly chosen by the goddess."

As his fingers caressed her lips, Aylanna caught them playfully in her teeth, and then moved under him, sinuously grinding her hips. Her voice turning dark and smoky, "I have much to give."

Jhardron's voice was amused, "Even the courtesans of the court know that a man must rest."

Aylanna tipped her head in confusion at his references to people and things beyond her experience. "What is courtesan?"

Jhardron gently pushed her legs down off his hips and slid from her venya. Aylanna frowned at his departure, hating even the few inches that now separated their bodies. Jhardron lay back and pulled her to lie on top of him, his hands stroking the length of her back. His voice was distant and she could sense a distaste in his tone. "Court is a very curious place, filled with dozens, even hundreds of seekers of the favor of the Khan. Friendships and loyalties are bartered like fresh meat and horse herds. Everything is ruled by complex rules of secrecy, ritual, and exaggerated etiquette. There are many women at court, ha'akh to the court are called courtesans. They are trained in the arts of jha'sham, sexual pleasure.

While he spoke his hands were growing more insistent, pressing her down more tightly to his body, pressing down on her buttocks, grinding her against him. She picked up the rhythm on her own, pressing the slippery folds of her venya against his hardness growing between them. Her voice trembled and jerked as she savored the sensation, "My Khan, I sense that you do not like this court thing you speak of."

"It is ultimately a place of distrust, lies, and betrayal. It has none of the loyalties of a Bak regiment. But let us forget this and focus on our night together." He lifted her to sit straddling him and then sat up to hold her in his lap. His hands were strong as he lifted her and slowly lowered her down onto his jhambar, "Wrap your legs around me again, pretty demon." As she curled her legs around him, he crossed his legs under her, his arms pulling her to press against his chest once more. Slowly he began to rock back and forth. This new position put pressure on her venya, sending waves of sensation through her but there was none of the abandoned movement that Aylanna was accustomed to. She squirmed and tried to move up and down, a nervous pent up whimper of distress rising up in her throat.

Jhardron leaned down and pressed his lips to the corner where her neck and shoulder met and murmured into her ear, his voice was filled with gentle laughter, "Patience, pretty demon, a warrior does not rush from one task to another. The courtesans call this the Serpent's Nest. It is a diabolical tangle." Slowly with gentle firmness he pressed his teeth to her and bit down, sending a sharp tingle through her body, and continued to rock back and forth. His hands gripped her hips, pressing her down and around, subtly making her gyrate in his lap. When Aylanna began to move with him, he sighed and murmured, "Very good."

Aylanna felt a matching rush of sensation and moaned, "Yes." Slowly sinuously she writhed in his lap, each movement making her tense and shiver with building tension. When her whole frame was rigid and vibrating with pent up excitement, Jhardron slowly bent her over backwards, arching her back, leaning down and pressing his lips and teeth to her breasts. Aylanna squealed and continued to rock and squirm in his lap, her hips rotating in a rapid frenzy. Gripping his shoulders she let her head hang back, throwing it back and forth as her passion expanded and then crashed over her. A long whinnying cry broke free of her lips.