blood.” His thin fingers tightened.
“No stranger at all.” Then, without change of tone, “You know why the others come to be taught by me. What they hope to gain. What the majority of them never will. You are not as they, which is why you have aroused my interest. But is your motivation the same? Are you willing to place yourself in my hands and allow me to guide your fate? How much are you prepared to sacrifice in order to survive? How much? How much? How much…”
The old face swirled, the almond eyes turning into fading stars, the thin figure vanishing as did the chamber. But memories remained; the tuition paid for by arduous labor, the lessons, the anguish, the advice.
Then the time of parting. The moving on. The beginning of a life based on violence, blood, pain and death.
“Earl!” Beside him Nada stirred, the touch of her fingers warm against his flesh. The scent of her perfume banishing the memory of fuming incense, of oil and sweat, blood and fear. “Come back to me, darling.”
“Sorry.” He turned to face her. “I was drifting, remembering a time long ago when I had to learn a new trade.”
“I thought so.” She traced the scars. “Earl! How—”
“The past wasn’t gentle.”
“But these scars are from wounds. Why don’t you heal yourself?”
“Kiss them and make them go away?” He gently shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Do you think I am foolish?”
“For suggesting I cure myself? No. Why should I? It worked on you. I don’t know why but it did.” Dumarest moved from her embrace and raised himself in order to look down at her. Some memories still lingered. Some advice remained strong. Never to trust. Never to be weakened bythe temptation of beauty. Had the time of memory been a subconscious warning?
His hand lifted to caress her hair.
“Do you remember when I told you that, when I looked at you, I saw something other than an ordinary woman.”
“You said I was a beautiful one.”
“You are, but you are not an ordinary woman. You are a mystery. I tried an experiment. I was lost in a realm of mists and shadows where nothing made sense. I remembered a room I had known. This room.” He gestured at the chamber. “You entered it as if you belonged, yet it must be strange to you. Any ordinary woman would have been curious. Asked questions. Demanded an explanation. You merely accepted things as you found them. Why?”
“I came for you, darling.”
“And found me. But there has to be more. Who and what are you? Where do you live? Where is your family? How did I manage to create this chamber?” Frustration hardened his tone.
“Damn it, girl, help me! I need answers!”
“Shandaha—”
“Forget Shandaha! I’m asking you! Where did you come from before you opened that door? How did you know what I had done? Did I really hurt you with the knife or did you just pretend?”
“Earl! Never that!”
“Then be honest with me! We have made love. We are lovers. We should be close. If we are to stay together we need to trust each other. As things are I can’t trust anything. Not this chamber, the window, Shandaha, you!”
“Why are you hurting me?” She reached towards him.
“Things were so wonderful until you spoiled them. Hold me. Touch me. Kiss me. Earl!”
Her voice rose in empty command as Dumarest slipped from the bed and stepped towards the washbasin. He needed a shower or bath but the faucet would have to do. He operated it, filling the basin and laving his face and torso, careless of the droplets he cast on the wall and floor. More followed as he washed away the residue of passion. Ignoring her as again Nada called his name.
“Earl!”
The choice would be hers. She would either help him or ignore his request but she would have made the decision and have no cause for grievance. He heard the soft pad of her feet, the slight rustle as she donned her robe and waited, expecting to feel her touch, the impact of her body.
“Earl,” she whispered,
“No stranger at all.” Then, without change of tone, “You know why the others come to be taught by me. What they hope to gain. What the majority of them never will. You are not as they, which is why you have aroused my interest. But is your motivation the same? Are you willing to place yourself in my hands and allow me to guide your fate? How much are you prepared to sacrifice in order to survive? How much? How much? How much…”
The old face swirled, the almond eyes turning into fading stars, the thin figure vanishing as did the chamber. But memories remained; the tuition paid for by arduous labor, the lessons, the anguish, the advice.
Then the time of parting. The moving on. The beginning of a life based on violence, blood, pain and death.
“Earl!” Beside him Nada stirred, the touch of her fingers warm against his flesh. The scent of her perfume banishing the memory of fuming incense, of oil and sweat, blood and fear. “Come back to me, darling.”
“Sorry.” He turned to face her. “I was drifting, remembering a time long ago when I had to learn a new trade.”
“I thought so.” She traced the scars. “Earl! How—”
“The past wasn’t gentle.”
“But these scars are from wounds. Why don’t you heal yourself?”
“Kiss them and make them go away?” He gently shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Do you think I am foolish?”
“For suggesting I cure myself? No. Why should I? It worked on you. I don’t know why but it did.” Dumarest moved from her embrace and raised himself in order to look down at her. Some memories still lingered. Some advice remained strong. Never to trust. Never to be weakened bythe temptation of beauty. Had the time of memory been a subconscious warning?
His hand lifted to caress her hair.
“Do you remember when I told you that, when I looked at you, I saw something other than an ordinary woman.”
“You said I was a beautiful one.”
“You are, but you are not an ordinary woman. You are a mystery. I tried an experiment. I was lost in a realm of mists and shadows where nothing made sense. I remembered a room I had known. This room.” He gestured at the chamber. “You entered it as if you belonged, yet it must be strange to you. Any ordinary woman would have been curious. Asked questions. Demanded an explanation. You merely accepted things as you found them. Why?”
“I came for you, darling.”
“And found me. But there has to be more. Who and what are you? Where do you live? Where is your family? How did I manage to create this chamber?” Frustration hardened his tone.
“Damn it, girl, help me! I need answers!”
“Shandaha—”
“Forget Shandaha! I’m asking you! Where did you come from before you opened that door? How did you know what I had done? Did I really hurt you with the knife or did you just pretend?”
“Earl! Never that!”
“Then be honest with me! We have made love. We are lovers. We should be close. If we are to stay together we need to trust each other. As things are I can’t trust anything. Not this chamber, the window, Shandaha, you!”
“Why are you hurting me?” She reached towards him.
“Things were so wonderful until you spoiled them. Hold me. Touch me. Kiss me. Earl!”
Her voice rose in empty command as Dumarest slipped from the bed and stepped towards the washbasin. He needed a shower or bath but the faucet would have to do. He operated it, filling the basin and laving his face and torso, careless of the droplets he cast on the wall and floor. More followed as he washed away the residue of passion. Ignoring her as again Nada called his name.
“Earl!”
The choice would be hers. She would either help him or ignore his request but she would have made the decision and have no cause for grievance. He heard the soft pad of her feet, the slight rustle as she donned her robe and waited, expecting to feel her touch, the impact of her body.
“Earl,” she whispered,
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