The Khan Ch. 04: Ties of Blood & Water

The shaman's home was a mound of dirt and rock and grass set against the hill. There was a rambling collection of accoutrements strewn about. From the twisted branches of the junipers hung skulls. Deer, squirrel, coyote. There was a bucket and ladle beside the door, a coil of rope and pile of flint chips as if some ancient stone tool were being constructed.

An old minotaur sat on a rough wooden stool. His former height had deteriorated into breadth. As if he had kept his earlier mass, but age had merely redistributed it. A mess of shaggy fur covered his flab. Rheumy grey eyes peered from beneath massive eyebrows.

Hakkon stepped forward. He addressed the elder without preamble as they were the same tribe. "Priest, I would speak to you."

No response.

Hakkon continued. "We come to request your services. We ask you to perform the marriage ceremony. This woman and I wish to be wed." He gestured to Jun'ai beside him.

The old priest spoke, his words as brittle as his lips. "Return to your village. The young do not understand the seriousness of what they ask."

"We do understand. And we are ready to bind our lives together." Hakkon stayed calm. Jun'ai bristled.

"The world exists in the space between our intentions and our actions. I cannot bind your souls together. Only you can do that yourselves."

Hakkon hesitated, unsure how to respond. Slowly he continued, "Others from my village come to you for the marriage ceremony." It was not quite a question, not quite an accusation, but close to both.

The old priest gave the shadow of a smile. "They come to me. Yes. But I send them to another."

"Who?"

His cataract encrusted eyes searched the two supplicants for some sign of intention. Of resolve. At last he gestured behind him. "There lives a spirit in the valley beyond. On the south slope of this very peak. There is a river running down into the valley. There at the river you will be wed. Or you will not."

Hakkon bowed low. A formal bow. "We thank you for your words and your thoughts."

The old priest reached out, gripped Hakkon's arm. A vice like grip. His expression dark. "Nature knows what we do not. There is no order to the world but which death demands."

"I don't understand." Hakkon shook his head, appalled, reflexively trying to pull his arm free.

The priest's grip tightened. "Death is the ultimate conclusion to all life."

"Death and taxes. Yeah, I heard this one." Jun'ai was not impressed.

The elder continued as if he hadn't heard her. "There will be blood in your future. That, at least, I see very clearly."

And then he released Hakkon's arm. And the two petitioners left the strange hermit to his brooding.

*

It took the rest of the day to cross the ridge and trek down the south slope. They came to the river easily enough but were unsure where along the river to find the spirit. Or for that matter, how the spirit would manifest itself.

The river itself was scarcely more than a mountain spring. It ran down the slope into a large lake in the mist shrouded lands below. The spray and trees prevented them from seeing what was down there.

Hakkon led them up toward the peak. Eventually they found the head water. A spring spilled from a crack in the rock face. On one side of the waterfall was a slab of gorgeous alabaster. Though imperfect, scarred and laced with veins of umber, it was still magnificent. The water flowed around the butte of moss encrusted rock. Clear and cool and clean.

Jun'ai and Hakkon stepped to the water's edge. "Now what?" Jun'ai asked.

Hakkon was silent. They watched the water flow over the smooth stones. They watched minnows and water striders and a fallen leaf on the smooth surface.

"Perhaps the sprit is in the lake below," Jun'ai said.

Hakkon watched the water. "The spirit is the river," he said.

Jun'ai crouched and dipped her hand in the water. Cold. Pure. Then she felt fingertips brush against her palms. As if caressing her hand. She jerked.

They looked at each other a long moment. As if asking, are you ready?

Hakkon held out his hand. Jun'ai smiled and took it. They stepped into the icy mountain spring. The water washed her ankles. Again, watery fingers touched her. Goosebumps ran up her legs.

They walked deeper into the stream. Frigid water ran against her thighs, then brushed her crotch. Taking a deep breath, she let her legs give out. She sank into the water. Beside her, Hakkon did the same.

She floated in the shallow water some time while her body acclimated. Then she felt watery hands run across her skin. Then press up into her crotch. It filled her. She gasped. From the corner of her vision, she saw Hakkon tense. She could only imagine what those watery fingers were doing to him.

Eyes shut, her head rolled back. And then she dreamed.

*

The party was a bore. Jun'ai wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. It was a gathering of merchants. Her father was among them. They were discussing shipping in and out of Tyre. She had little use for tariffs and mark ups, unless it effected the family's bottom line, that is.

The courtyard was crowded. There were clusters of people everywhere. But she noticed one young man standing near the pool. Alone. Drink in hand. He was watching her. His dark eyes seemed to be searching for something in her that she kept carefully hidden. Her private soul.

The man was dressed in layered robes of satin. The frills and embroidery at the collar and cuffs made him something of a dandy despite the somber colors. This was not the kind of man who would ever serve in the military, nor in the senate, for that matter. Definitely a business type. Hungry for money and status and power, but only for its own sake, not for the desire to exercise that power.

When the man saw Jun'ai looking at him, he walked away, as if embarrassed or just suddenly realized he needed to be somewhere else. The complex was large, there were groups everywhere.

Jun'ai felt oddly disappointed by his departure. As if that made him something of a coward. Although why she felt that way was a mystery. They had no business to discuss, and anything he might say to her would just be a line.

But when she started looking for the nearest exit to make her own escape, the man returned. This time a glass in each hand. "You look as bored as I am." He held out the drink.

"Important business for the city is being discussed here. I would hardly call that boring."

"Yes, you would." The man smiled. His lips were gorgeous. Finely sculpted, they perked up just enough to make her think this man was teasing her.

"I know my own thinking better than you."

"Do you always contradict the people you meet?"

"Just you." He left her open for that one.

His smile broadened. "Here. Have a drink. It's a Valerian Cabernet."

She took the glass. Sipped. Used the gesture to hide a smile.

"You are Jun'ai of House Wing," he said. "Am I right?"

"Yes. You have the advantage of me."

"Are you asking me who I am?"

Damn it! She walked into that one. "I suppose I am."

Now his smile really infuriated her. "Marlan."

She frowned. "Just Marlan. What House?"

"No House."

"What is a Houseless mercenary doing here?"

"Business."

Infuriating man!

"This crowd is starting to bother me," Marlan said. "Would you care to take a walk with me? Find some place private."

"I would hate to take you from your business."

"I would enjoy the break." He held out his hand.

She hesitated, on some level knew what this gesture meant, and knew that she would regret going with him. But on another level, this game intrigued her. She wanted to see his next move. She took his hand.

Marlan led Jun'ai to the atrium. There were gingko and peach trees. A small koi pond with reeds and lotus flowers. There was a small wooden bridge over the water. On the other side of the pond, at the water's edge, was a thick blanket and pillows that seem suitable to a palace, yet here it lay on the grass in the middle of the park.

Jun'ai was caught speechless.

"I rented the garden for the night," Marlan said, seeing the girl's stunned expression. "Don't worry, we won't be disturbed. I sent everyone working this wing home for the night."

"Very presumptuous, don't you think?"

Suddenly Marlan seemed nervous. That confident smirk was nowhere to be seen. "There is a secret I wish to confess. After that you can stay or leave. It's your choice." When Jun'ai said nothing, the dandy continued. "My name is really Marlena and I'm the matron of House Maru."

He was really a she. Marlena reached up and unbuttoned her robes. Jun'ai was speechless. She knew she should refuse. She should stand and walk away this instant, but something kept her there. The cloth fell away. The dandy was wearing a bra. Full breasts. Smooth skin. Delicate clavicles and narrow shoulders.

"Why?" Jun'ai couldn't even think how to phrase a better question.

"Because I've always felt trapped by life. I want something else, something more."

"Me?"

"You are the most beautiful girl I've ever met." Marlena grabbed the other girl's head and kissed her full on the mouth.

"What?" Jun'ai broke away.

"You have to know why I brought you here," Marlena said softly. She was inviting Jun'ai into her fantasy.

Jun'ai scooted away. "I don't know."

Marlena gave her a quizzical look. "Then why did you come?" Then, "Stay with me." She clamped down on Jun'ai's arm, pinning her in place. She pushed the young woman back and she straddled her.

Jun'ai resisted at first. Unsure. Then the moment came where she made the crossing. She wanted this, at least on some level, else she wouldn't have come. So, she surrendered to the older woman.

Hands busily undressed one another. Cloths piled up beside the blanket. Naked, Marlena's body still projected elegance. "Are you sure we should be doing this?" Jun'ai asked, again self conscious.

"Yes." Marlena whispered, her smile genuine, her eyes bright with desire. "I want your body. I want all of it. I ache for it." She cooed sliding up next to the younger woman. She kissed Jun'ai on the mouth. Hands fondled her breasts.

Jun'ai melted. She caressed Marlena's arm. "Kiss me," she pleaded. She knew what the other woman wanted to hear.

Marlena obliged. She grabbed the back of Jun'ai's head with one hand, giving her a rough, passionate kiss. The kiss was long and sensual and steamy. A moment later they parted, Jun'ai spread her legs and batted her eyes. It might have been a little too much, but Marlena seemed like the type who would eat that shit up.

Marlena took the initiative. This was her dream come true. This was her greatest fantasy come to life.

Bodies pressed together. On top now, Marlena held Jun'ai against her breasts. She wanted the other woman to enjoy them.

Jun'ai kissed her breasts. Fondled them. Marlena moaned. Jun'ai was encouraged and increased the ferocity of her kisses. She sucked the woman's dark nipples.

Fingers ran along the inside of Jun'ai's thigh. The touch was scandalous, she traced a rambling line toward her pubic bone. When the woman's fingers arrived, they caressed the soft wet lip. Jun'ai shuddered. Desire blossomed inside her. She hungered for Marlena. Then the fingers slipped inside her.

Jun'ai gasped. The pain was startling. In that moment she lost her virginity.

The fingers rubbed up and down inside her. The other woman worked them slowly at first, letting her savor each sensation. It was a tight fit. She worked them in slightly further with each thrust. Jun'ai squeezed herself tight as if in resistance to the penetration.

It went on for some time. Slow, and then with increasing force. It was painful. It was intoxicating. And then Jun'ai had her first orgasm. A cocktail of pain and pleasure washed over her. Her skin drank in the other woman's touch. Her crotch screamed. Fingers and feet tingled.

And then, just as suddenly as they had violated her, the fingers inside her were gone. In the aftermath their absence was almost as painful as their presence.

Marlena shifted position, straddled one leg. On her knees she pulled the young woman's waist close and held her tight. Slowly at first, but building up speed, she rubbed her crotch against Jun'ai.

Jun'ai's head rolled back. Bodies now slick with sweat. Marlena's face buried between her breasts. "You bitch," Marlena moaned. "You slut."

Their bodies rubbed against one another. Marlena's fingers dug into her supple flesh, seeking purchase. It was a reckless crash of crotch against crotch.

Again and again Marlena thrust her hips. Again and again she crashed into Jun'ai's lithe body. This was Marlena's fantasy. She wanted an orgasm without the need of a man. She quickly reached a climax.

A gasp of pleasure burst from her. After a final lingering thrust she pulled away and collapsed next to her lover.

The two lay side by side, gasping for air. Tree branches entwined overhead. The scent of flowers and clear water filled the air.

"Was that good for you?" Marlena asked when the rush of endorphins had passed.

"Yes." A whisper. When she caught her breath, she asked, "Why me?"

"What do you mean?" Marlena's eyes were closed, she was only half paying attention.

"I mean, why me?"

The older woman turned and looked at her. "You are a beautiful young woman, Jun'ai. I am incredibly lucky to have found you."

A hesitation. "So you just chose me because I was the first girl available."

Marlena rolled onto her side. "I wouldn't have done this with just anyone," she said. "I think you're a very special woman."

Special wasn't how Jun'ai felt at that moment.

*

The dream changed, as dreams do. She moved from the garden with Marlena, to a country villa with Ariakas. It was after their wedding ceremony. They had left the cathedral and rode out to the villa, secluded in the countryside.

She reclined on a couch in the enclosed courtyard. Sheer dress clung to her. She was barefoot. Bracelets of gold on her wrists and bands of gold above her elbow. All delicately carved. A dragon coiled around a phoenix. Male and female coming together, two halves of a whole.

Across the courtyard was Ariakas. He wore a polished breastplate and gauntlets and greaves. A ceremonial sword hung at his side. The enameled scabbard decorated with the image of a heron.

"How does it feel to be Jun'ai of House Kajak?" he asked. Her reply, "Like a dream come true."

He strode to the center of the patio. His hand on the pommel of his sword. "In this place you can be anything you want to be," Ariakas told her.

"How will I know what I want?"

His smile was instant. "It will be the secret story of your life."

She reflected on that. She knew what she wanted to say but was hesitant to say it. For now anyway. Then she looked up at him from lowered eyes. "I would like to hear yours."

He thought a moment. "I want to be the great hero Huron, from the legend of the Fallen City. I've just returned from war. Victorious. But I've brought with me spoils of conquest."

She knew the story. "You came home with another woman. Jelena. An exotic beauty who gave you twin sons during your long journey home."

His smile was predatory. "But in this telling, you are Asher, my wife. And you haven't been faithful either," he said crossing the distance to her side. "I come home to find you in bed with another man." His tone threatening.

Asher looked up at him. Wide eyed and innocent. "You were gone for years, my love, I was lonely. I was weak. Please, you are my heart and my world. Please forgive me."

"I can't forgive treachery." Huron drew his sword. The same sword he had used to kill Kiran after he wounded the hero in his arm. Huron raised the sword high overhead and brought it down.

Asher flinched.

The sword cleaved the pillow in two. Huron imagined his rivals head rolling from the couch. He grinned savagely. "In the legend I kill you and take Jelena on our former marriage bed. But we both know the real story, don't we?" A pause. "I only killed your lover."

Asher reached a hand out, touched her husband's arm. "And I beg your forgiveness. You are the greatest man I've ever been with. You are my true love. I will remain faithful to you till the day I day."

Huron sheathed his sword. Tossed the belt and scabbard aside. He knelt by the couch. His hand touched her thigh. Ran the length of it. "If you betray me, I will kill you."

"I belong to you, my love."

Nothing more was said. He kissed her. It was rough, filled with hunger. Cloths were hastily discarded. The couch became a flurry of rumpled sheets and scattered pillows.

Jun'ai rolled on her back, legs spread, pale skin contrasting Ariakas's bronzed muscles. He was aroused from the roleplay. His member hard and ready. She was wet. Eager to make it up to him.

He mounted her with deft movements, and without missing a beat, slid into her. She cried out. He slammed into her with an intensity she could barely take. Legs wrapped around his waist. Arms gripped his shoulders. Body pressed tightly against body. His was rough, and hard. Covered with hair. Her skin was like porcelain. Clean and white and soft.

This was a testosterone fueled frenzy. Yet, it was incredible. The fullness inside her hurt. But the pain enhanced, rather than depreciated the encounter.

Jun'ai rolled her head back against the pillow. She cried out with each thrust. He was rough. It was brutal. Her head pressed into the pillow. She cried out. Once. Twice. The pain was an aphrodisiac. He bit her nipples. Hard. Chewed on the plump flesh. Then he licked her. Her chest, her stomach. Jun'ai arched her back, pressing the soft flesh firmly against his face. Sweat pooled in her arm pits, around her neck, in the cleavage between her breasts. The moisture lubricated their bodies.

Ariakas moved up from her tits, kissing her shoulders and neck. Now her breasts bounced with the rhythm of his thrusts. Up and down. Ariakas watched them. Gaze played over her lithe body. The gentle curve of pale flesh. Full breasts. Dark nipples hard and stiff.

Jun'ai reached down between her legs. Rubbed herself. Stroked the sensitive skin in tandem with his thrusts.

The lovemaking was frenzied. In their passion, her head cracked against the armrest, hands gripped the sheets. Ariakas brought her to a climax with a steady rhythm. And when she came, it was with a lip biting orgasm that wracked her whole body.

He continued for some time. While she lay gasping and sore. Then he finished inside her. Afterward she lay on her back. Shuddering from the aftershocks.

Then sometime much later, he whispered to her. "You never told me what you want to be."

And then she told him her fantasy. "I want to carry your sword."

*

The final vision came. She knew what it was going to be. Dreaded it all the same.

Ariakas stood in a tunnel. Crouched low. Sword in one hand, torch in the other. Dripping a trail of wax. He advanced down the dust choked tunnel. One foot in front of the other, testing the ground, attempting to move silently.

It was the same tunnel she herself will walk sometime later. But that day was far in advance. And nothing she said or did now could change the past. She watched helplessly as her husband marched to his death. In this one act, he had hoped to find some measure of immortality. But oblivion cannot be appeased.

When the tunnel opened into the underground chamber, he was on guard, his form was perfect, and his stance was solid. There was nothing he could have done differently.

But the minotaur knew the terrain. He waited in ambush.

Ariakas stepped into the room. Sword before him. He walked to the center of the room, searching for some sign of the monster he had come to slay.

And the minotaur came up behind him. Closed his escape route.

When Ariakas heard the hulking monster, he spun. But it was too late. He brought his sword up and managed to deflect the first blow. The minotaur's blade was shorter and much wider. It was a stabbing sword meant for close quarters. Ariakas had a long dueling sword. He needed distance which he didn't have.