Warrior

Dorian had come to her concerned about her obvious anxiety, and she had lamented the lack of women she felt she could talk to. He suggested that they could return to her village to marry in a traditional mountain ceremony while they continued to plan a greater ceremony for the dignitaries of the land at the castle in a months' time. Sometimes she felt like he had already made plans before speaking to her and that he led her to the conclusion he wanted. He couldn't have known what she was thinking, however, and she dismissed the niggling thoughts.

Now she was in her childhood room, and the ceremony was only hours away. She couldn't sleep and worried over all the details that she knew had been taken care of by Dorian along with the help of Odell and the women of the village. She tried to stop her thoughts from questioning everything that had happened in the past week. One week. That was how long she had known the man she was about to marry.

She knew she should try to sleep at least a little. Dawn would come all too soon, but she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that assailed her, convincing herself that it was just her anxiousness about the wedding night. She went and lay on the bed letting the warm summer air surround her rather than the heavy blanket. She was about to become a duchess. The Duchess of the Kayode people, she considered that. She wondered what the role would entail. She had asked Dorian, but he had only smiled and said, "Keeping the Duke happy," and laughed.

His image flittered into her mind. He was tall and solid, and she didn't feel as ungainly as she usually did amongst the other women she knew. He had a handsome face despite his crooked nose, the result of having it broken as a child during his sword training with Sieben. He also had an air of authority about him as those in power often did, and she knew he wielded that power over all of the inhabitants of the castle. Only a select few, her father and the other men who had fought beside Dorian in the last war seemed unaffected by the powerful authority he exuded.

He wielded that power over her in a different way. He was kind and giving and made her feel as though she made his world brighter. He happily indulged her interest in weapons, particularly the bow and encouraged her to use the practise fields and to train with the masters of each discipline. He had gifted her a bejewelled light sword, a replica of the sword Zephyr was said to have worn and told her he would be proud to have a warrior wife.

She smiled knowing that Dorian made no secret of the fact that he admired her strength and athleticism. He compared her to the mountain Goddess Zephyr often, and they discussed the book he had given her on her first night in the castle as she read each chapter. The description of the Goddess had similarities to her own appearance, and Dorian was quick to point out the depths of her violet eyes and the highlights in her hair which were quite startling in the sunlight.

There were times however when she questioned his actions or chose to do something other than he had suggested when he withdrew from her and turned cold as he had during their first night on the battlements. Each time after that first horrible night and the visit to the city, when he began to withdraw from her, she quickly altered her own actions to make him happy with her again and basked once again in his warmth. There was no place she would rather be than under the warmth of his smile and affection, and she listened to his suggestions carefully ensuring he remained happy and affectionate toward her.

She fell into a light doze thinking about the man who would be her husband and the affection he rained on her so abundantly. An affection she had never thought to have in her life, especially from such a powerful man. She barely noticed the compromises she had to make to ensure his smile remained when he looked at her. It was worth to just to know he was proud to be her betrothed.

*****

Dorian lay on his bunk going over all of the details for his wedding and feast when the sun rose. They had travelled with a small contingent of soldiers because of the death warrant on Goren's head and camped on the north side of the village close to the home of Goren. The village chief had offered the comfort of his home which Dorian had declined reminding the men of the village that he was a soldier himself and had fought side by side with the men of the Kayode mountains. He was not so pampered he couldn't sleep as his men and other strangers to the village did.

His lantern had gone out long ago, yet he could not sleep. He knew that he was being manipulated just as surely as he had been manipulating Mirabel into a hasty wedding. At the end of the war, he had taken time to heal from the horror of what he had lived through. He tried to quench the rage at his cousin's plotting to sacrifice the men of the south against the tribes of the wildlands that had all but overrun the north and threatened the central plains and the capital itself.

Four men had sought out refuge in a remote temple that appeared untouched by the invading tribe's men as they retreated back toward the border having failed to breach the pass at Fort Fennec. Three days later, Sieben and Goren had found Dorian there, healed in mind and body. Two of the brotherhood who served the temple had asked to journey with the young Duke to the temple in the southern lands, and in saying yes, Dorian's fate had been sealed.

Dorian didn't pretend to understand or care about the motives of the brotherhood. He did, however, realise that their motivations paralleled his own ambitions. He accepted their help and in doing so had bound his destiny to the path they guided him on and the woman they sought out. To discover that the woman they sought was the same one he knew, as soon as he found out who she was, would suit his purposes had been startling, although he realised he shouldn't have been surprised. Fate tended to have a funny way of pulling people together at particular times and places.

He had seduced Mirabel through carefully orchestrated emotional manipulation. She had been an easy target because the men in this village had treated her badly as she had grown, even a small amount of attention and affection had been enough to make her do as he wanted. When he had been told he would be required to seduce an ungainly warrior woman from the mountains, he had expected a female version of Goren, as wide as she was tall and strong enough to break most men if they tried to bed her.

Dorian chuckled at his thoughts. Mirabel was far from that. She was tall and strong without a doubt, but she had a figure that enticed and aroused him as well as eyes he could drown in. The more he had gotten to know her and the more she succumbed to his will and catered to his needs and desires the more he looked forward to their marriage and ridding her of her virtue. He would enjoy teaching her how he wanted his wife to please him. He was lost in his thoughts feigning sleep when he felt the presence of another in his tent.

"Speak," Dorian commanded without moving or opening his eyes.

"Take off the talisman and let me see you," Odell's voice surprised Dorian, and his eyes snapped open.

"For what purpose, witch? Do you seek to use and manipulate me as you do others in your village? As you used Goren's daughter to capture the attention of my brother?" he asked. "You will find I am not so easy a target even without the talisman."

"I seek only the truth of your pact with the brotherhood," Odell said calmly once again surprising him. "I am not your enemy Dorian. The forces of light and dark gather and the mountains grow restless. What happens today will be important to future events, and I would know what is in your heart of hearts."

"You know of the brotherhood?" he asked in a voice free of any inflexion.

"It is not a coincidence that there are only wise women in the villages and not wise men when the Gods have given gifts equally. The brotherhood gathers their own to them just as the wisest of the women will apprentice young women with extraordinary gifts. We have never been arrogant enough to believe otherwise, unlike the brothers who keep their gifts to themselves and hide behind those they seek out to do their bidding. Do you do the bidding of the brotherhood, Dorian?" Odell's words held no accusation only curiosity.

"At this time their purpose matches my ambitions, so I am content to be in their company," he answered honestly. "I have genuine affection for Mirabel if that is your concern. I am more than pleased that come tomorrow we will be wed, and that pleasure is derived from no one but the woman herself and the way she makes me feel when we are together."

"I can hear the truth in your words, but I am concerned by your need to disguise your heart and mind from those who would offer you assistance to reach your goal while opening those pathways to others. Can you see my confusion?" Odell asked.

"You would offer me your assistance?" Dorian asked taking a breath and considering the old woman's words.

"I do not believe you know what it is you do today or the chain of events that will follow, but I cannot be sure as you have willingly hidden your heart and mind. If you do, as you say, care for Mirabel, remove the talisman for just a few minutes and let me see you as you really are," she asked again. "It is clumsily made and easy to detect."

Dorian touched his hand to the talisman where it lay on his chest. Confident in the fact that Mirabel would elope with him if this woman or any other sought to stop the wedding, he sat up on the side of the bed and drew the talisman over his head placing it beside him within arm's reach. The silence stretched as he stared into the darkness at the old woman.

"Your ambitions are great, but your heart is true," she finally announced. Then she paused as if considering Dorian. "Carry your sword today. I fear you will need it to protect that which you desire. Keep the one you call Martel close; he will have what Mirabel needs when the time comes." She turned to leave, but he stopped her.

"What is it she needs? I would be the one to give it to her," Dorian said finding that without the talisman his emotions were heightened and not as clinical and controlled as they had been over the last week. He felt possessiveness and even jealousy though he knew he need not where Martel was concerned.

"There are many paths into the future, some clearer and easier to walk than others. The path to your goal will not be without peril. Always question the authority of the men of the brotherhood and women like me. Remember there is a delicate dance between the light and the dark." She smiled seeing the aura around him shift and change at the loss of the talisman which freed him to feel his emotions acutely again. His desire for Mirabel must have been great for it to have shone through the ward around him. "Leave the talisman off if you dare, it does not serve your purpose as the one who gave it to you had hoped, but that is your choice."

Odell left his tent then, leaving him with the assault of intensified emotions that had been held at bay for too long by the talisman and left him with a hungry desire to go to Mirabel and make her his immediately. He drew deep breaths struggling to gain mastery over himself and his emotions again. He wondered what it was that Martel had that Mirabel could possibly need or even want. Knowing he would not sleep now, he stood gathering the talisman and dropping it into the pouch that hung at his hip keeping it close but no longer resting over his heart and fogging his emotional responses to the people around him, then he went to find Martel and Sieben.

*****

Light stained the horizon as the people of the village began to gather on the common green. The ancient oak tree had been decorated for the ceremony with ribbons festooning it and hanging from the wide solid branches. Candles lit the area on tall stands. Dorian drew a deep breath as he walked toward the house of Goren to ask permission to collect the woman he would make his own in this strange ancient ceremony of the Kayode people.

Dorian wondered at the wisdom of removing the talisman as he tried in vain to settle his anxiousness at the events that were going to unfold today. He knew now that his senses had been dulled not only to hide his own thoughts and plans from others but those of the brotherhood as well, and it was this knowledge that gnawed at his insides and prevented him from concentrating on the task at hand.

Mirabel stood in front of her father's house flanked by the big Axeman and his squire Tevin. She nervously watched the pathway from the village centre for the glow of torchlight. A sudden unfounded fear gripped her. What if this had all been a horrible joke? What if he changed his mind and couldn't go through with the ceremony? What if he didn't love her? Could she survive the humiliation of being left on the day of her wedding?

"He comes," Tevin said softly and squeezed her hand. He had been concerned about how nervous Mirabel was. She had changed over the courtship with Dorian. He had never seen her so nervous and unsure of herself as she was around him, as if she was constantly concerned with upsetting him. The Mirabel he knew was self-assured enough to not care if those around her were upset with her, including her indulgent father.

Rather than relaxing, Mirabel stiffened and stood straighter as she watched the three men approach. Dorian looked so handsome in the formal military uniform of the Duke with the gleaming silver scabbard hanging at his hip signally that he would fight for her hand if called upon. Then her view was obscured as her father stood in front of her to greet Dorian and his men.

"I've come to take the burden of your daughter's keeping from you Goren," Dorian intoned as he drew close enough to be heard. "Will you give her to me willingly?"

"Aye Laddie, though it is with a heavy heart. I will miss her greatly, and my home will be lesser for the loss of her presence," Goren answered not following the formal protocols but rather speaking from his heart so that his daughter would know he never thought her a burden. He stepped aside revealing his daughter to Dorian's sight in the golden light of the torch he carried.

A low growl of appreciation sounded softly deep in Dorian's throat as he took in the woman he was about to make his wife. Mirabel's hair was secured down her back in an intricate braid woven with small white flowers leaving her face unobscured by the long locks she tended to hide behind when she lowered her head. He cheeks were flushed, and her unusual violet eyes were bright. She smiled softly at him as he reached out a hand toward her, and she took it taking a step toward him.

Dorian's eyes travelled down her neck to the expanse of bare skin left open to his gaze by the very low scalloped neckline of her tight-fitting bodice that made the soft mounds of her breasts rise up in soft pale hills of flesh that he had to stop himself from reaching out and fondling. The tight bodice hugged down over her waist to her hips where a softly gathered skirt shielded her pelvis and long legs from his view of their shape. He hadn't thought his anticipation of bedding Mirabel could grow any further but he had great trouble controlling his body's reaction to the sight of her in her wedding dress as her hips swayed and the softly gathered material moved around her legs, hinting at their shape.

Mirabel took Dorian's hand but turned her face up to kiss her father's cheek in farewell as they started the procession back to the village common green. Odell chanted the ancient words as she placed wreaths made from the greenery and tiny white flowers of Zephyr's breath on the heads of Dorian and Mirabel, and they walked slowly around the tree three times. Mirabel had moved throughout the ceremony in a dreamlike state hardly believing it was real, and when Dorian lifted her head at its conclusion to kiss her, she saw the love and desire in his eyes and almost swooned as their lips met.

Generally, after the ceremony, the husband would take his new wife to the home he had built for her with the help of the other men in the village. In this case, as Dorian and Mirabel would not be staying to live in the village one of the abandoned homes of a man who had died in the war was cleaned and made ready for them instead. The villagers followed the couple to their temporary home and watched as Dorian carried Mirabel over the threshold with ease. The villagers then went to prepare for the feast, leaving Dorian and Mirabel alone. A prized cow brought by Dorian from the lowlands where cattle were raised would be slaughtered by the men and divided to cook over fires. Each family and household in the village who called Goren a friend would contribute to the feast that would begin when the sun was at its zenith and the newly married couple had consummated the union.

"My wife," Dorian murmured placing Mirabel on her feet once they reached the bedroom.

"My husband," she responded and smiled widely at him. "I can scarcely believe it's true."

"Believe it," he murmured leaning down to kiss her. "For we are here and the bed looks inviting does it not? Let me help you with this dress." He turned her then and began unbuttoning the back of her dress, his fingers feather light as they caressed her back as he undid each button. Pushing the dress from her shoulders, his hands followed it down over her hips until it fell to the floor around her feet. Holding her hand, he helped her to step out of it and turned her back to him.

"Do you any idea how much I have dreamed of this moment? How much I want you in my bed," he murmured hotly running his fingers from her cheek down to the jaw and onto her neck. "Do you have any idea of what I'm going to do to you?" He took her mouth with his stopping her from having to reply to his questions.

She closed her eyes, and her whole body clenched not in fear but in anticipation brought on by his questions. The kiss was demanding and followed the trail of his fingers down her neck. She heard him murmur again as she moaned quietly.

"You have the most beautiful skin, so pale and unmarked," he breathed, his fingers trailing down over the exposed skin of her breasts about the underdress and corset she wore. His lips met hers again as his fingers delved into the lacings of her corset loosening their hold on their captive and removing it as if he were an expert that didn't need his sight to accomplish such a feat. He stood back then and looked at her as removed the straps of the underdress from her shoulders and let the loose garment fall from her finally exposing her breasts to him.

Mirabel gasped as the fresh morning air wrapped around her naked flesh, and she couldn't work out if she shivered because of the cool air or because she felt the same desire for him that she could see in his eyes. Unable to stand under his heated gaze passively any longer, she reached up and tugged at the lapels of his jacket drawing his attention to the fact that he remained fully dressed.

Dorian smiled at her bravado, and as he took his fill of her delectable body, he removed his jacket and shirt allowing her to see his naked chest and torso. He kicked off his boots before closing the gap between them again and turning her to pull her back against his body letting her feel his arousal against the firm curve of her ass as his hands curled around her ribs to fondle her ample breasts. His hands then dove down, skimming over her ribs and belly to the line of her underwear and drawing it down her legs, kneeling and turning her back towards him as her underwear dropped, leaving her naked.

Mirabel looked down at him in awe and ran her fingers through his hair as he leaned in toward her kissing the apex between her thighs and breathing deeply before standing again making her blush deeply. She could feel the muscles of her insides clench at the lewd act, and her whole body heated with the blush that showed only on her face.