Children of Chaos

Arms embraced, lips met, she closed her eyes.

There was a little more lovers' babble: 'You make me feel like a girl again.'

'You taught me how to be a man.'

'All these years? All those women?—and don't deny them—and yet you want me again?'

'I never stopped wanting you. They were all you. And none of them was.'

Then no more words.

¦

Horold's savagery had left her sore, but even as a youth, Benard had always been a careful lover. And a playful one. No doubt all previous impregnations performed in this chamber had been cold-blooded ritual, dour state consorts doing their duty, but Benard as lover could never be anything but joyful. He teased and tickled and tongued her until he had her helplessly aroused, gasping and pleading for release. And perhaps the goddess added Her approval, for when the ecstasy came, it was inexpressibly prolonged and sweet, as if all the years of denial were being rewarded in one single, overpowering passion.

¦

Later, while he was leaning on an elbow, studying her body by firelight and tracing out its contours with fingertips, he said, 'Holy Veslih must have kept you young for this. You haven't changed at all! If you had gained one wrinkle I would notice.'

'I enjoy flattery more than I used to. You've changed, though. You're bigger and cuddlier and a lot hairier.'

'And I have more stamina.'

'I doubt that,' she said. 'But I'm willing to be persuaded.'

'In a moment. Explain why this was necessary.'

'I think you know. What was your mother's name?'

'Oliva. Why?'

'Part of the ritual. And now I can leave Kosord, because Horold will kill Oliva if he finds out she's yours, and obviously she cannot flee without taking me with her.'

He touched tongue to nipple. 'What absurd logic! But I'm not complaining.' He nibbled, sucked, inspected his handiwork. 'I think we can start work on the second triplet now.'

twenty-eight

FABIA CELEBRE

said softly, 'In Kosord, Father, you must visit the Jade Bowl.'

For days she had been seeking a chance to pass on the Witness's advice. Now the two of them were leaning on the gunwale, in the bows where the wind would carry her whisper away, and no one was watching them except a snoopy white bird on the fore post. All other eyes were on the landing ahead as Beloved of Hrada eased in toward the bustling waterfront of Kosord.

'What is the Jade Bowl?'

'I have no idea. A friend told me.' She considered telling him that there would be no wedding yet, and decided that the risk was not worth it. He would learn that in a few minutes.

Horth was still a man of infinite surprises. His pale eyes appraised her narrowly. 'Did this friend also mention Huntleader Hrothgatson?'

Perag had died after three days of agony, which was what he had inflicted on Paola.

'The subject may have been raised.'

Horth sighed and went back to studying the front. She realized that he would not comment further, neither now nor ever. Lately she had seen the truth in Master Pukar's warning that Horth Wigson refused to know things he did not wish to know. Marriage to a Chosen must require some such denial.

'It seems we were expected,' he said.

'I expect the Bright Ones are watching over us.'

Horth just frowned.

Fabia was unimpressed by her first view of Kosord. The high palace was imposing and the unfamiliar vegetation added an exotic touch, but the city itself was only a shaggy, overgrown thatched village, unworthy of its ancient fame. The waterfront was an elongated madhouse bazaar, although part of the confusion was being caused by an honor guard of Werists, which was seriously disrupting traffic. Brazen notes of trumpets had already greeted Saltaja's disembarkation from Blue Ibis. Some god had forewarned the satrap of their arrival. He was greeting his sister; the woman beside him was no doubt his wife, Fabia's mother-in-law-elect.

She walked up the plank behind Horth and Ern, with Cnurg breathing on the back of her head as usual, to meet a monster that could only be Horold Hragson—a boar pretending to be a man; or a man and several boars mashed into one. Saltaja was a tall woman, but she seemed like a child beside him as she waved Horth aside when he would have made obeisance. Fabia genuflected to the satrap. Streets were never exactly fragrant, but there was a particularly horrible local stench somewhere nearby.

'Rise!' He leered around his tusks at her. 'You are welcome to our realm, young mistress.' His voice grated like a corn mill. 'And to our family, also.'

'Eventually,' Saltaja said. She was dangerously displeased. 'Your bridegroom has gone on upriver, child.'