Pillar in the Sky

Tamar slung the heavy rucksack over her shoulders and started up the winding cobbled street that left the town. Every month, for nearly as long as she could remember... Tamar had climbed God's Thumb. The great jagged monolith of limestone overlooked a bend in the river. Atop this great pillar sat an ancient monastery, inhabited by just one very old monk and his young apprentice. Since Tamar was a young girl, the old monk had been too feeble to make the journey to the village to get food and supplies. The journey was harrowing, even for one as young and strong as herself. Tamar remembered her very first trip up to the hermitage as she strolled out the town's southern gate. She had been very young and very hungry. Her parents had passed away that summer, leaving her with her ailing grandmother who had been completely unprepared to feed and raise a child. The winter had hit them hard... Food was so scarce that the pair had resorted to begging in the streets. After a day of unsuccessfully begging for alms, they had gone into the church to warm up. The town's priest had immediately approached them. He expressed his condolences for their situation and offered a "solution" to their destitution. He offered them a stipend provided by the church if Tamar delivered supplies to the monastery every month.

Initially the offer had seemed like a gift from god. The priest provided the parcel to be delivered and gave Tamar instructions on how to reach the site of the monastery, omitting quite a bit of vital information. So... desperate and unaware of the risks, Tamar's grandmother put her in a little boat with the rucksack of supplies for the monastery and sent her downriver. The same little boat that Tamar made her very first journey in was the boat she clambered into today, slinging the heavy pack and her walking stick into the space between her feet and guiding the craft out into the gentle current.

It was not long before she rounded the bend in the river and saw the familiar image of the huge column of white limestone jabbing at the blue sky. What the priest had failed to report to Tamar and her grandmother all those years ago, was that the monastery did not sit atop a hill or even a mountain... The monastery was over one hundred feet up in the air... and the only way up was a set of ladders, and an ancient, crumbling stairway cut into the natural face of the monolith. The first time she had seen it as a child, she had sat down at its base and cried. She had been tired, scared, and on the verge of starvation. As a child, only sheer desperation made her climb the first rungs of that ladder, then only blind determination kept her going. It was impossible to forget that first climb. The wind whipped around her so fiercely that she was afraid it would blow her right off of the rock face she clung to. She made it all the way to the landing in front of a little cave entrance before she stopped her ascent. She had sat down in the opening of the cave and was in awe of the view out across the valley from the incredible height when she had heard a rock clatter and saw a strange-looking boy come skidding down the path that ran up to the very top of the rock formation. When he came into view she knew immediately who he was. His existence had been village gossip for years before Tamar had even been born, and now she understood why.

The boy scrambling down the path was cursed, born as white as death. He had been born in her village and upon seeing him, his mother had thrown him into the river. It was said in the village that his white hair and bleached skin, he had been born with the mark of the devil on him. The monk who lived atop the pillar had been fishing in the river when he heard a baby crying. He followed the sound to a pile of rags washed up on the bank, and found the abandoned child. The story went that the monk had wrapped the baby up in his cowl, slung the infant over his back and took him back up to the monastery with him. The monk never came back down. Knowing the stories about the boy approaching her, and the superstition around him had utterly terrified poor little Tamar even more than the harrowing climb had. The young boy was just a few years older than Tamar had been at the time, and very patiently sat down a few feet away from her until she finished crying. He didn't say anything, he just scooted closer to her and handed her a large hunk of warm, fresh bread with his inhumanly chalk-white hands. She ate ravenously, sobbing and gasping as she stuffed her face with the first real food she had eaten in days. The boy just stared silently out from under his hood. Tamar finished the loaf, quivering in shock from the entire ordeal. Now, making the climb again at least a decade later... she couldn't shake the image of the boy's pale green eyes. His eyes swam in her mind as her little boat pushed into the sand of the riverbank.

The two misfits had been fast friends as children. Every time she climbed up to deliver supplies, he sat waiting for her with some tidbit of food or a pretty rock or flower. He had been almost totally mute, yet they had understood each other perfectly well. For about three years Tamar would make extra trips up to see him or go early so that they would have time to explore the caverns and tunnels dug into the rock together. Then one day a section of the rock path came loose and destroyed the rest of the steps that led up to the top of the great rock. Instead of fixing the stairway, a pulley system had been set up to span the last leg of the journey. She never saw her friend again after that. Tamar always wondered what had happened to the boy... She had never seen a person who looked like him before or since...

Breaking from her reverie, she stretched and drug the little skiff onto land before beginning her climb. The trip that had started out taking her a grueling hour of climbing as a child, now only took her about half the time. She had gotten very good at climbing and very agile over the years. Living on rooftops in the village and making deliveries to the monastery had made her incredibly strong. She reached the cave and steadied herself for a few minutes before ringing the bell. In the years after her first ascent, the steps carved into the rock that continued the remaining twenty or so feet to the top of the pillar, where the monastery and chapel sat, had been eroded away... and were now utterly impassible. A large metal basket on a pulley system had been constructed to get supplies the rest of the way up the cliff face. Tamar never saw the ancient monk, or his younger acolyte anymore... and hadn't for a number of years. She wondered about what life up here was like for them as she hoisted the heavy bags of flour and materials up the cliff, heaving at the thick ropes. An idea occurred to her as she hauled at them. If the basket could support all the weight of the flour she sent up there... It could probably support her own weight. Tamar had always dreamed of seeing the view from the very top of the column... So she waited. She heard the clatter of metal and bags, and the sound of a door slamming shut far above her. Then.. she carefully climbed into the basket and hauled at the rope. Her ascent was incredibly slow, but when she shakily stepped out of the contraption and onto solid ground she was shocked. The first thing that struck her was the absolutely breathtaking view. It was even more beautiful than she had imagined. Her time spent hauling herself up in the basket had cost her precious time. The sun setting across the land for miles and miles around in vibrant hues of pink and orange and lavender took the breath from her. She sat in absolute admiration staring out at the setting sun until it was dangerously low in the sky before she realized her grave mistake. It would be impossible to make the journey back down and make camp before full dark and that was too risky for even surefooted Tamar. She considered her options. She could try and lower herself back down in the basket and spend the night in the cave below and potentially fall out of the basket grappling around in the dark... or she could try and find a place to hide for the night up here. The latter was by far the more appealing option.

She snuck around the low curtain wall, and into a tiny door set into one of the monastery's hodgepodge of buildings. She plastered herself to the back of the door and listened for voices or footsteps. The blood pumped in her ears and she could hear virtually nothing. Fear set in. If she was caught here the punishment would be severe. The monks up here took a vow of silence and of celibacy. As a woman, being caught here would be incredibly bad news. One letter to the priest in the village and she would be stoned in the town square. Her heart slowed and she was able to slip further into the building. A door was open to her left and a spiraling stone staircase led up to a small tower room. At first, she didn't see anyone in the moonlight, then, camouflaged in the silvery light, he moved. It was like a human moonbeam turned to look at her. Incredibly long silver hair and vaguely familiar green eyes with an eerie faint red cast, fringed in long chalk-white lashes stared at her. He laid propped up in a bed by the window, bare in the heat but for a blanket slung across his waist. There was a faint sheen of sweat on the broad milk-white expanse of his chest.

Tamar felt her mouth go dry as the desert sands. His brow furrowed and he began to stand up, wrapping the blanket tightly about his hips, scarlet showing across his nose even in the dim light. Tamar dodged as he reached a hand out to grab her arm and twisted out of his reach. His foot skidded on the stone floor and he snatched a handful of her shirt and crashed backward into something she couldn't see in the dark. There was a horrible grunt, the sound of his knees hitting the floor hard. She tumbled with him into a tangled heap on the floor.

It registered with him first... nose to nose in the dim light. He didn't say a word, his stony face just cracked open with a toothy grin. Then it dawned on her... her mute, childhood friend with the white hair. He was... all grown up. He carefully rolled off of her and snatched the blanket he had tripped over off of the floor. The dim light didn't disguise the scarlet blush of embarrassment. He offered her an arm up off the floor, and as soon as she got to her feet he grabbed the back of her collar like he was scruffing a cat. He hauled her to the door, and unceremoniously shoved her out of it.

A moment later he opened the door, having donned a pair of pants... and yanked her back inside. The door wasn't even fully closed before she found herself wrapped in a rib crushingly tight hug. He released her, leading her gently to a small armchair in the corner of the little room and gesturing for her to sit. She sank into the chair, weary from the stress and the exertion of the climb while he drew back a set of heavy drapes and lit the candles on the desk they had tripped over.. Light bathed the room and she could finally see well enough to make out the rest of the room. It was bigger than she had previously thought, L- shaped with a small study in the shorter leg of the room. A very large window and a bed lay at the juncture of the two areas and a huge wardrobe sat around the corner, along with a deep basin of water on a stand. Clattering drew her attention back to the man at the desk in front of her. He was rifling violently through a drawer for something, making choked sounds of annoyance. Suddenly he emerged victorious with a writing stick and paper, the light catching the white teeth of his grin. Her heart fluttered strangely at the sight of him.

He pulled a chair up next to hers and scratched something on the paper, tapping at it impatiently.

"What is delivery girl's name? Always wanted to know?" he had written hastily in an elegant scrawl.

"Tamar" she blurted without any preamble.

His grin got even wider as he pointed to himself, gesturing repeatedly and then took back the paper. He scrawled "Katskhi" in big letters and gestured to himself again.

Your name is Katskhi? Tamar asked aloud. He nodded enthusiastically as he snatched the paper back from her. He scratched down a lengthy paragraph in mere moments and handed it to her.

"I almost didn't recognize you! You have grown so much, little one! It is good to finally know your name, it fits you. I don't think I would have figured it out if not for your hair... it's exactly the same as it was when we were children... So black and curly. I haven't seen anyone new since you came along. It is wonderful to see you again. How did you get up here without the steps? You really shouldn't be here you know. Why are you here? Are you hurt?"

When she looked up she noticed the look of intense concern on his face.

"I'm fine! I wanted to see the sunset from on top of the pillar so I used the pulley basket to get up here and then lost track of the time. It got dark and I couldn't climb back down, so I decided to sneak in here and find a place to hide for the night."

He looked at her like she was crazy before gesturing wildly with his massive hands and letting out an exasperated sigh.

It immediately became just like it had been when they were children.

"I know... I know... It was reckless." Tamar grumbled.

He sat with his arms folded across his massive chest and stared at her, scolding with those hyper expressive celery green eyes rimmed in pink.

"I don't want to hear it! I'm a big girl... I can take care of myself!" Tamar said... Snapping back into her petulant twelve-year-old self instantly.

Katskhi laughed that odd choked guffaw of his... deeper and more booming now as an adult, but still comfortingly familiar. He pointed at Tamar and then gestured to the door and himself... His cocked white eyebrow was more patronizing than any words.

"Fine, Fine...! Thank you for saving me... And, I'm hoping... hiding me from the old priest." She said with a note of begging.

His entire face morphed at the mention of the old man... It went flat, and cold... and she knew something wasn't right. "What's wrong with the old man?" she asked, picking up on the change in him. He stood up and pulled something out of the wardrobe behind him, waving her off as he walked away. He returned with a round of cheese, a pear, and a huge linen shirt. He tossed the shirt at her, and raised his eyebrows pointing to the bed before turning around to slice the pear.

Message received Tamar thought... get changed, get some food and sleep so that you won't slip and die on your way down in the morning... and drop the old man conversation. Tamar yanked her filthy clothes off and slipped the shirt on. It was a dress on her... the hem stopping just at the top of her knees. Katskhi turned around with the plate of food and gave her a strange look. Then it crossed her mind... Had he ever seen a grown woman before? He had been up here his entire life, his only company the old priest. Had he ever... had.. a woman?

He handed the plate to her as he sat down, suddenly looking everywhere but at her.. Worrying at his food. Tamar blushed scarlet. She didn't know why it hadn't occurred to her that he was an adult man, an attractive.. young... adult man. He had always seemed like a brother to her, and even after so many years they had just clicked back into their old ways. She couldn't help but look at him now.

He was staring at the floor next to her feet, a faint blush rising across his long slender nose. She couldn't get over his sheer stature... How BIG he was. He had been lanky as a boy but now he was simply massive. The top of her head didn't even reach his shoulders, which were so broad he barely fit through the narrow doorway. He was so strikingly beautiful in this alien way. She had fancied him a faerie prince as a girl, but now... He made her mouth go dry and her breath catch in her throat with his impossibly long white eyelashes. He looked up at her and noticed her staring, clearing his throat uncomfortably and standing up to put the plate away. His shoulders rolled enticingly as he washed the plate in the basin in the corner of the room.

He looked like he was carved out of ivory, she thought. The heavy muscling of his back working subtly under impossibly pale skin as he scrubbed at the plates and knife with nervous intensity.

Tamar tried to remember the last time she had lain with a man... it had been years ago now. She had been with a young "ruffian" as her grandmother had referred to him... Grandmother had never liked the thief... and frankly Marcos had gotten a bit too arrogant and Tamar had gotten a bit too nervous that the tea she took to keep from bearing children would fail her. He had gotten more and more reckless and irresponsible and after a time, she hadn't felt like being with him was worth the risk of a child. She hadn't felt the pull to someone like that since...well... not until now.

Maybe it was his strange beauty or the sweet innocence of him, but it sparked something in her that had been dormant for a very long time. When he finally turned around she had come to stand behind him. His pale green eyes were startled when she reached up on tiptoe and kissed him softly. Her heels settled back onto the floor and he stepped backward, jaw slack. Unsure, he just stared at her silently for a few seconds before swallowing hard and taking a step toward her. She met him halfway, reaching up and letting her palm glide over the cool skin of his chest. Her fingers curled into the curly silver hair that was dusted across his chest. The other hand joined the first, stroking across the firm expanse of his torso. His skin was flawlessly smooth, addictively silky to the touch. Her fingers glided down to his navel and she felt the hard muscles of his belly quiver. Tamar paused, looking up into his green eyes and saw the panic there. She stepped back from him and took his hand. It was big and rough, a surprise considering the silky smooth skin everywhere else. Her thumb stroked the coarse skin of his palm before she pulled his hand onto the smooth skin at the base of her throat.

He left his hand there for a moment, unmoving. The space of a heartbeat, then another, and another. Agonizingly slowly, his thumb stroked softly against her collarbone. His eyes locked with hers and a soft sigh escaped his lips. His other hand came up, his fingers combing through her curly tresses. She stared into his beautiful eyes, she had missed him for so long... and now here he was. Katskhi's eyes softened suddenly and he pulled her against him, leaning down and kissing her a bit clumsily. His lips tasted sweet from the pears they had eaten and she let her tongue glide across his lip. His sharp intake of breath let her know it did something to him. She nibbled lightly at the softness of his bottom lip and he bit hers gently. His tongue flicked between her parted lips as she gasped for breath... Her head swam in a heady rush. When her breath had returned she pulled him down to her and kissed him hard. Her tongue tangled deeply with his and he groaned, pulling her tight against him.

She felt the pulsing heat, pushing against the curve of her hip bone and her hand reached down and stroked him through the material of his pants. He rocked backward onto his heels, bumping into the chair as if she had burned him. Surprise and confusion wracked his handsome face and he sat down with a thud in the chair behind him. She wanted him.

His eyes bore into her in the moonlight and his fingers pressed into the arms of the chair as he stared at her in nothing but his oversized shirt. She pulled it off over her head and stood bare in front of him. She waited, she took a steadying breath and waited some more. Her anxiety mounted, but his hesitation didn't last another breath and he reached out from his seat in the armchair. His big hands wrapped around her hips and pulled her to him. He was entranced. His hands glided up and down over the curve of her hips, the soft skin of her thighs. His eyes raked up her body like another set of hands and settled on her breasts. Coarse fingers reached up to touch her. They started feather-light at her collarbones and stroked softly down over the curve of her breast, tracing the round underside before starting the journey back up.