Joel Shepherd - Petrodor

“Doesn't she? I am du'janah . To be born du'janah is to be born a traitor.”

“I don't understand…what does that mean? Not one of you serrin has actually explained to me what a du'janah is.”

Errollyn touched her face gently. He ran a thumb over her cheek. It tingled, and Sasha felt her heart beat faster. His face twisted in a grimace. “I can't explain. There are no words. You'd need to be serrin.”

“Damn it, Errollyn, that's an excuse, nothing more.” Somehow, with her, a racing heart threatened to unleash a temper, no matter what had brought it on. “How can I help if you just keep pushing me away?”

Errollyn hung his head with a sigh, and offered no answer. His hand slipped from hers. His despair was one sad sight too many. The Errollyn she knew was full of mischievous, irreverent intellect. He found everything interesting, but took nothing too seriously. Now, he seemed a sad wreck of a man. Sasha hated morbidity. She had to do something, because this…this was all getting too much.

Her heart thudding madly, she stood, and pushed him upright as she straddled him. Then, she sat in his lap. Errollyn stared at her. A shiver went up her spine. She put her forearms across his shoulders and locked fingers behind his neck. “I've had a hard day,” she told him, awkwardly. As if that explained everything. Dear spirits, she hoped Rhillian had not just been teasing her, or this was going to rank among the most embarrassing moments of her life.

Errollyn took a deep breath. Wiped at his eyes. “This is unmanly, I suppose?” he said, with a crooked smile. And what a smile. Her heart nearly stopped. Errollyn could cry as a Lenay man rarely would and, yes, a part of her thought it most unbecoming of him…and yet he had eyes like a predator and a body not unlike one of the statues downstairs. With a bow in his hand, he was surely more dangerous to his enemies than even she was with a sword.

“It's only unmanly when it becomes a habit,” Sasha replied, a little breathlessly. Errollyn took another deep breath, finished wiping his eyes and tousled his wet hair. Dear spirits, she liked that too. It hung about those impossible green eyes, grey and wild.

“I apologise for being a pale shadow of the many great yuans you've doubtless known.”

“Not many great yuans have bested as many in battle as you have,” she pointed out.

Errollyn made a face. “Aye, but that's archery. A coward's cheat. Even you think so.”

“I do not.”

“Oh yes you do. You've said many times that you hate archers.”

“I didn't mean it.”

“Do you always say things you don't mean with such conviction?”

“Always. Most things I say with great conviction I don't mean. I'm like that.”

“And why would that be, do you think?”

“Errollyn!” Sasha burst out, finally losing patience. “I gathered all my courage just to sit on your lap! Do something!”

Errollyn smiled, gazing at her calmly. His eyes were so close. If she looked into them directly, she would freeze. “Why does it fall to me to do something?” His breath was warm on her cheek. “You have two arms, two legs…”

“I…well, look, it just does!”

“In Lenayin, where women are submissive and await the advances of passing men like the virtuous maidens they surely are?” He was teasing her, she realised. Like a cat playing with a mouse. She got off him before she could succumb to the urge to hit him…but he caught her about the waist and pulled her back down.

“Don't play with me!” she said hotly.

“I thought you wanted me to play with you?” She hit him, hard in the shoulder. He winced, but laughed. “You're beautiful when you're angry.”

“You're a pain!” She really was angry now, she disliked feeling so helpless. And yet…and yet his hands on her waist ran up her sides, admiringly, and her breath came very short.

“I'm serrin,” he said reasonably. “Of course I'm a pain.” And dear spirits, as if she hadn't learned the truth of that lately. “You're sure you want to do this? Your priests will tell you it'll send you straight to the hottest hell.”

Sasha snorted. “I'm Goeren-yai, I don't care a puddle of piss what some priest says.”

“Watch your mouth,” Errollyn teased, touching her lips with a finger. “We're in a temple.”

“A temple full of sexy nude statues,” Sasha replied, stifling a giggle.

“Sasha?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for sitting on my lap. I've been hoping you would for quite some time.” Before she could think of a reply, he kissed her.

It felt as wonderful as she remembered from the day before…only this time, she could stay where she was and enjoy it at her leisure. She kissed him back, but evidently not very well, because he smiled, took her hair in both hands and showed her how to do it better. That became a game and soon she was laughing between kisses, and feeling…spirits, better than she could ever remember feeling, with the possible exception of the first time she'd bested Kessligh in a sparring session as a girl.

She undid her bandoleer and put the sword aside, while Errollyn's hands moved up over her hips to a breast…“I'm sorry,” she quipped at him, feeling a little cocky all of a sudden, like a girl riding a horse for the first time who thought she was doing pretty damn well. “I don't have much there.”

“The rest of you more than compensates,” Errollyn replied, and pulled off her jacket. Sasha ran her hands over his bare chest, the first time that she'd not bothered to try to hide her delight at the view. Errollyn put his hands up her shirt, moving to pull it over her head, but instead found…

“What in the hells is this?” He pulled off the shirt and stared at the gold chain about her neck. Or, more precisely, what hung on the end of it. “Well that's an anticlimax,” he remarked. “Of the many things I was looking forward to finding under here, that wasn't one of them.”

Sasha bit her lip. The Shereldin Star felt cold against her skin. With her jacket on, no one had yet noticed the chain beneath its collar.

Errollyn stared, then looked up at her. “You're wearing the holiest artefact of the Verenthanes beneath your shirt.”

Sasha shrugged. “There was nowhere else. Kessligh didn't trust the new hiding place. He wanted it well guarded, and…well, I am the best swordsman in Petrodor now.”

Errollyn's amusement was turning into a grin. “It doesn't concern you that some might consider it improper to hide the star against bare, female skin?”

“Should it?” Sasha retorted. “What's more important-holding to silly superstitions or keeping it safe?”

“Look, I think you can do without this for now…” he took the chain up over her head and placed the star atop her discarded shirt and jacket. “It kind of spoils the mood.”

“Doesn't it!” she agreed, and kissed him again.

What followed, Sasha thought later, was rather like a memory of battle, its recall dimmed through a haze of frantic, heart-thudding action. Or rather, she tried to make it that way, but Errollyn restrained her, told her firmly to slow down and laughed at her when it became clear that she could not. Slowly it dawned on her that she was completely out of her depth. Errollyn was experienced. Like most serrin. He seemed almost as confident of her body as he was of his own.

He finally got her to a bed, shedding clothes as they went, and pressed her onto the mattress. He tried to settle her down to his pace, kissing and feeling her, and that felt wonderful for a while. But inevitably, she became impatient…it was slightly embarrassing to be so frantic, while he remained so calm. She wanted him to be frantic too, but had no idea how that might happen, unless he was inside her. Even serrin men were supposed to go crazy then, surely?