The Low Lovers of Anastelle Yrai

She pulled a straw from the bale beside her and chewed on it, tilting her dark slanted eyes at him with a laugh in them at this.

He lay down again in the straw and leaned on his elbow, blushing and his eyes dipping like the swallows over the irrigation channels in the plains of his home region. "I ... I am quite low," he suggested. "I am only a younger son and I muck about with the merchants y'know."

She started laughing out loud, her eyes sparkled merrily so that he could not forbear the slight movement of his lips, the crinkling of his eyes that was his smile in reply. "You are of the high nobility," she said scornfully. "A man of honour who goes always with weapons in his belt. You are the richest aristo in the country."

"I could give it away?" he suggested, his eyes tilted up at her with a sparkle in them back to her. She laughed again and said, "You would only make more. You are too well-connected and too clever: you and your sister. She is the clever one but you are the strategist who knows where to direct hers and your efforts." He raised his eyebrows in appreciation at this understanding, she said casually to him, "What is your preference?"

He was confounded by this and lay back in the straw, staring up at the timbers in the roof, stricken wordless. Finally he shrugged. "I only like you," he said softly, lying there on his back looking up into the roof.

"You never liked anyone before you liked me?" she asked teasingly. It was her turn to be confounded when he said, "No."

"You have never even had a kiss?" she asked.

He sighed then he said, "Has't met my sisters and knowest how beautiful they are. I was like them: handsome as the sun. Then ... this," he gestured with his scarred right hand at his scarred face. "For a long time I thought no woman would ever wish to kiss ... this. Then I realised that many did but in such a way ... not love, not even pity for me. They liked to recognise their beauty next to my ruined face. But ar't not like that," he leaned up on his elbow with a rustle of straw and looked over on her. "Ar't so beautiful," he said softly, "and knowest it. Does't not care. Does't not care if el V'lair van Athagine or my cousin who is el Jien van Vail, oldest sons of the high nobility, come dancing about your skirt. Does't not care if I am as handsome as the sun or ruined as I am. Were't willing to give me a little flirt and to dance with me even though I dance badly, only because I was shy and so were't kind to me. I liked it. I came to love you. I knew dids't not care for me, I thought it was my scars but my brother by marriage, Clair, said: 'She is poor. Go and offer her what you have, her family will push her to the match'. I have come but my wealth is only a bar in the way of you liking me because has't a preference for men who are of a low degree and do not make you feel your poverty and the shame your father has brought on your family." His voice was mocking of both himself and her, full of a quiet resignation. He lay back in the straw again. She stopped chewing on her straw to consider what he had said.

"My sisters and I were brought up very close because of my mother who is an infamous slut," his voice was a soft and husky murmur coming to her out of the straw. She had to lean close to him to hear what he said. "Not a slut like you," he added hurriedly, tilting his head towards her with a blush. "She is not an honourable slut. I have seen her even chase my brother by marriage's tail at the parties at court. But she is very beautiful," his tone became soft and tender. "When I was little she was resident in Iarve for a few years. My father persuaded her to come back to the region and ... we three younger children were born. He was like me. He only loved one person, he only loved her, although in the end it was not sufficient for her. Sometimes at night she came to the nursery and gave us each a kiss, when she thought we were sleeping." He lay staring up into the roof above them and she lay on her side looking at his scarred face in which the eyes were soft and warm like the skies of his home on a Summer's evening.

"Perhaps if I were to give you the one favour?" she suggested. "People are often content after they have had the one favour and slack off after others to please them. I do like you, my dear, and you are so sweet to the twins. You will be an excellent father yourself when you find an one you can give your ring to. I should not mind to give you the one favour if you will have it."

He turned his head to her and said softly, "It is kind of you and I should like you to have my virgin favour but it is not the one favour I want of you. I want you always in my life, my heart's home. I want you to be my honourable wife, not my honourable slut on the side."

"Mm," she said regretfully. "I am sorry for it. How about a kiss though? Will you take a kiss of me?"

His head twisted with a rustle in the straw and his round blue eyes looked shyly sideways at her. She grinned at him, chucking aside the straw she had been meditatively chewing, and his eyes flashed in the glint of a laugh back to her.

She put out her hand. He reached over with his unscarred left hand, she put her plump little fingers to his long pale fingers and slid them in between and down until his palm pressed to her palm. Hanya gave a long sigh like a movement in the straw as his long fingers sank into the spaces in between her plump little fingers.

She wriggled over to reach out her head to his, still with her fingers clasping his in between hers. He lifted his mouth to her slowly. She put her soft red mouth to his and puckered the full lips against his lips, staring into his eyes. They were closing, the lids drifting shut over the eyes like summer skies, his mouth was puckering to hers. She pressed the tip of her tongue to his lips and they parted to let her push her tongue in his mouth, he made a moan as she did it, his head came up, he pulled on his hand in the clasp of her hand.

Pushing her tongue into his mouth, she insisted to cling to his left hand, her fingers pressed hard between his. He rolled in the straw and flung his right arm around her to pull her rounded curves close to him, his hip came up and his leg in the long boot flung over her legs to clinch her in, she pressed in to his body, her tongue flicking around the open lips and in his mouth, flicking to his tongue which began to caress hers in return.

He was pushing her back now in the straw, starting to pant and moan in the kiss. She drew her tongue back, let her lips part from his and lay back under the pressure of his body so he could come over to lie on her curving body. She was still clinging with her fingers between his fingers, she let him come over on top of her and press his head into her neck, he lay pressed hard into her. She could have chased it: his favour, but she lay still under him with her breast heaving up to him, letting him think it through, whether he could resist to give her his favour.

There was a noise at the doors and he rolled hurriedly off to lie beside her again in the straw. She saw through the bales of straw the doors of the barn push open and a big figure shoulder its way in. She pushed Hanya's head down and scowled to make him shut it, lying still and quiet, hidden in the straw bales by his side.

"Anastelle!"

She always called him Commander-Lord el V'lair, trying to establish their relations as formal. He turned it into some disgusting sexy game, pretending he liked it, saying, 'Will you scream it in your pillow when I make you cum, sweetie?' At the least of it he did not call her Anata although she knew he used her full name because it reminded him of Tashka and that annoyed her so much she sometimes wanted to slap him, thinking about what he had done to Tashka.

She turned her head sideways and caught Hanya's round blue eye. She saw his mouth in his scarred face twist and knew he was desperately trying not to giggle. That made her want to giggle too, she grimaced at him, biting her soft lip and giving him a push, he made a little gasp and bit his own lip.

"I am not coming hunting you in the straw to pin your favour," el V'lair drawled. "You come on out and talk to me."

Hanya's face ceased to twitch lightly with the giggles and his mouth seemed to thin out. The blue eyes which came round to Anata were suddenly keen and hard, she felt an odd flutter at her heart to see him so cross yet so clear-headed in his anger. She wondered if he looked like that when merchants crossed him in negotiations. She put out her hand and grasped the hand by hers: it was his unscarred left hand. She pressed it to make him lie still.

"I had the great honour of meeting your father," el V'lair's voice became deeper with sarcasm, the powerful tones washed over the two of them lying in the straw. Anata's eyes flicked away from Hanya's face at this. "We had an hand or two of cards -- along with some of my brandy." She knew that el V'lair's own brandy from his family vineyard in Athagine would be some exceptionally special vintage which her father must have knocked back until he fell under the table. She felt like saying, 'that was a waste of a good brandy then'. "We played without limits, as is my habit," van Athagine purred. "Your father put your family's heritage on the table."

Anata lay quite still. She heard the crackle of papers in his fingers.

"Here you are, my sweetie," he said, his voice was thick with triumph. "Your father's notes of hand signing away the fort, the farm, the nut orchards and herds. Should you care to come out and talk to me about those? Is there any thing you might like to bestow on me in exchange for them?"

She sat up in the straw with the angry tears flashing in her dark slanted eyes, her red mouth in a snarl. "You bloody dog!" she shouted.

"Ah," he said softly. "I did warn you. I prithou pardon me, my darling, for taking you with an handkerchief of tears."

Hanya el Jien sat suddenly up beside her and el V'lair sprang back with an exclamation, his hand going to the hilt of his sword in his belt.

"No!" she cried, kneeling up between them. Hanya -- so mauled by the dogs, would never be able to meet el V'lair's skill in the duel. Hanya sat still in the straw behind her and el V'lair let his sword hilt go.

"Oho," he said softly. "el Jien van Iarve. I never thought to find you pinning some vixen Dame's favour in the straw."

"Shut it, el V'lair and give me the notes of hand," Hanya answered curtly. He stood up behind the kneeling Anata, brushing the straw off his jumper. He was lean and tall with a piercing intent look in his round blue eyes.

"Or what?" el V'lair scoffed: the muscular commanding officer with sad eyes. "You'll take me in the duel? Her honour is not under your eye, even if you are pinning her favours on the side." His voice flicked at Hanya like a whip, trying to push Hanya to give him the glove so he could force Hanya aside to take Anata's favours.

Hanya's face was always inexpressive but his voice had an heavy frown in it. "I have offered Dame Yrai my ring," he said coldly. el V'lair's eyebrows went up to hear that. "You will not do so," Hanya said.

"Do you think I do not like her enough?" el V'lair said.

Anata, who had been about to interject that she had refused Hanya's ring, looked at him in astonishment.

"I think likes't her too much," Hanya answered. There was a cold mocking laugh in his voice. "Ar't awkwardly situated, el V'lair. Likes't women who are free of spirit and when meets't one, does't not care to think of her chained in Athagine so offers't her something on the side instead of your ring."

el V'lair turned his head at this. His eyes seemed to become pools of sorrow but then they narrowed and hardened and he said, "Well even if Anastelle will be your married wife that is no reason why she may not redeem her family's lands from me in whatever way pleases her -- or me. You need not think you can shake them from me with idle threats of meeting me in the duel," he cast an offensive dismissive gaze at Hanya's legs in the long riding boots and grinned his louche smile so that they knew how much more it would add to his pleasure if he were taking Anata's favours through the hoop of Hanya's marriage ring.

"I would not dream of meeting anyone so lacking in honour in the duel," Hanya riposted. "If does't not give me those notes of hand I will break your family as has't threatened to break Dame Yrai's." el V'lair looked scornfully incredulous, Hanya said: "Your father is greatly in debt."

"Oh yes," el V'lair scoffed, "to the loan bankers. They are your friends, I suppose, and you will beg it as a favour off such low scum to call in my father's debts." His lip lifted in a snarling careless grin.

"No no," Hanya said lightly. "Has't overestimated how low I am. Who does't think funds the loan bankers? They will beg it of me as a favour to ruin your father -- and yourself -- if I let it be known that such a thing would please my heart. But I would be sorry to lose the profits I make of you both. Now give me those notes of hand."

"Do not do this for me!" Anata cried, rising up out of the straw to grasp his arm.

He let her pull it about, standing firm and tall in the straw and only saying: "It is not for you. Has't refused my ring. I have a fancy to own a fort and a nut orchard in the H'velst Mountains. I like it here."

"And you will only give these back to me if I marry you!" she cried indignantly.

"No I will not give these back to you," he said in a casual tone of voice. "Ar't a terrible manager of money and of property, woulds't only give them back to your father and brother to fund your father's gambling. I tell it you, Anata, I mean Dame Yrai. I like it here. This is where I found my heart's home," his blue eyes sparkled teasingly at her. "I shall always keep these properties in my hand."

She stared at him then she heard el V'lair start laughing behind her. She turned about and ran at him and started beating him about the head, shouting: "Get out, get out, you scum!" He dropped the green and red slips of paper he was holding and ducked his head about, laughing and trying to catch her hands and exclaiming in pain when she caught him a savage box on the ear then he backed off and made a quick mocking bow before leaving.

Hanya had come forward and was sedately collecting the notes of hand from the straw-scattered floor of the barn.

"Was that low enough for you, my dear?" he enquired, looking up from where he was stooped over to collect the last one. "Threatening an oldest son of the high nobility with my mercantile associates?" His blue eyes glinted with his teasing laughter.

She was so angry that she spat at him before running away to the fort, where she rushed past Lallia and into her room and slammed the door behind her.

---

Jamies Yrai sat at the kitchen table with his head of dark curls sunk in his hands. Hanya el Jien sat opposite, back in his chair with one ankle set on the other knee. The notes of hand lay on the table in front of him. Lallia sat by Jamies, wrapped in a big warm woollen shawl, but Anata had refused to come out of her room.

"What will you?" Jamies asked in a muffled voice of tears. "Do you want us to leave the buildings now, this very day? Will you throw my pregnant wife into the snow?"

Hanya's blue eyes narrowed in his inexpressive face. "Certainly not," he said in an annoyed voice. "You Northerners have a most peculiar notion of the manner in which the high nobility exploit their responsibilities."

Jamies lifted his head at this.

"The way in which the el T'fels have taken dealings with the region's merchants into their own hands has enriched both their family and the merchants," Hanya said, "but it has reduced you land-owning Knights and Dames and the peasantry to abject poverty. I do not care to manage my own investments in such a way. However nor do I care to have them poorly run in the interests of pouring funds into the card-playing hells. If you and your family are willing to come to an agreement between myself as the owner of these rights to hold the fort and farm and the el T'fels as your father's sworn Lords, I will want to be sure your father does not have access to the property the more."

"Do you want me to put my own father out of his family door?" Jamies said intently.

"We all have relatives we would prefer were a better kind of people," Hanya answered, "but whom we are obliged to love. Sometimes that love becomes indulgence."

Jamies knew that Hanya's brother was being put through the King's councils for conspiring with van Sietter to assassinate Hanya and his sister and that his mother was so infamous a slut that the courtiers had a pet name for her mouth, they called it the Sugar Kiss. He was too polite to make any reference to this, he only said in a dull voice: "You think I have managed things poorly."

"Oh my dear," Hanya's voice was suddenly so affectionate that it made Jamies wince. "I wish I had a brother like yourself. Has't tried so hard to make it good for them all. But it is impossible. Your father will not come home one day having forsworn the potato spirits and the cards. Anata clings to you instead of leaving for a better life. The twins plot raids on the merchant trains going South in their wish to bring some money to make your lives easier," Jamies lifted his head with an expression of hilarious horror to hear this. "This desperation has become a way of life for you all that you are terrified to walk away from in search of a better. You fear you will fall into an abyss if you try and that your family will be split asunder. But already it has begun. Shall't have a child musts't look to provide for. Anata has begun to look about her more seriously for an husband, she will leave the farm in despite of her wishing to stay. Change must come and it is possible it might lead to happiness and to new family ties and lives. But not if you all cling to the old ways which you learned as children in order to survive rather than live happily.

"Your father cannot be a part of an happy family life. If wants't to be happy musts't let him take his pension and go to live in the card-playing hells separate. I will not tolerate him on the fort lands longer and after I have spoken with them, nor will the el T'fels."

"You will allow us to stay here," Jamies said. His voice quivered. It was plain that he was trying to be grateful but his pride choked him. He stared into Hanya el Jien's face, for the first time Hanya saw how young he was. He was the same age as Hanya.

"Oh, allow," Hanya repeated mockingly. "I cannot be running up here to the mountains to run a fort and farm, my dear. My sister and I have a serious project in hand, it is only this war which has prevented us going to court to take it forward and allowed me some time at my leisure to come on an holiday to play. At the winter sports," he said hurriedly, blushing to realise that he had implied his attentions to Anata were not serious. "I need you to continue working here, to consider the shepherds who are bound to you as you are to the sworn Lord and to figure what it will cost to refurbish the fortifications and whatever. I will give you some monies in hand to employ a two-three people about the farm and household then mays't have time to write the report to take to the el T'fels and show them what they ought to be doing for you in this matter. Cans't repay me the monies when they have done right by you. And we must look into taking the garments your shepherds make down South, they are lovely things and will make a sensation in the artistic circles." Jamies looked in bewilderment at the shawl Lallia was wrapped in with its knitted picture of apples hanging in the trees and at his own felt jacket with the embroidered pictures of deer. "But if we go to the el T'fels to ask that they continue to take the fealty of some drunkard who throws it all away at the cards, they will not take us serious."