Kahless - Michael Jan Friedman [33]
Suddenly, Kahless understood. All too aware of the hard-muscled angles of Kellein’s body, he caught her hair in his fist and drew her face down until her mouth met his.
He tasted blood-though it took him a moment to realize it was his own, wrung from a lip Kellein had ” just punctured with her teeth. He didn’t care, not in the least.
In fact, it made him want her that much more.
In the aftermath of passion, Kahless lay with his back against the ground and Kellein’s head on his shoulder.
Lightly, she ran her fingernails across his cheek, tracing what seemed to him to be arcane emblems.
Praxis had risen in the east. In its light, Kellein’s skin took on a blue-white, almost ethereal cast. She was too beautiful to be of this world, yet too full of life to be of the next.
“What?” she asked suddenly.
He looked at her. “How did you know I was thinking of something?”
Kellein grunted. “You are always thinking of something. If you weren’t, Molor would have caught you a long time ago.”
Kahless smiled at that. “But how did you know this thought had to do with you, daughter of Vathraq?”
She shrugged and looked up at the stars. “I just knew,” she told him.
“Did you also know what I was thinking?”
Kellein cast him a sideways glance. “Don’t play games with me, Kahless. I don’t like games.”
“I don’t either,” he admitted. “It is only that . .
“Yes?” she prodded.
“Where I come from, this means we are betrothed.”
Kellein laughed. It was the first time he’d heard her do that. Normally, he would have liked the sound of itexcept in this case, he felt he was being mocked. He said S.
“I am not mocking you,” she assured him.
“It does not have to mean we’re betrothed,” the warchief told her, snarling as he gave vent to his anger. “It does not have to mean anything. We are not in my village, after all.”
“I am not mocking you,” Kellein repeated, this time more softly. “I was laughing with delight.” She propped herself up on one elbow and looked deeply into his eyes.
“What we did just now … it means the same thing to my people that it does to yours.”
His anger faded in the wake of another emotiona much milder one. “You would betroth yourself to me? An outlaw with no future?”
“Not just any outlaw,” Kellein said. “Only Kahless, son of Kanjis, scourge of hill and plain.”
Kahless was filled with a warmth that had nothing to do with the bloodwine. Taking her head in his hands, he drew her to him again.
“You should do that more often,” he told her.
She raised her head. “Do what?” she asked.
“Laugh,” he answered.
“Oh,” she said. “T. was There was a note of disdain in her voice. “I have never been the laughing kind.” And then, as if she had been carrying on a separate conversation in her own head, “I will make you ajinaq amulet just like mine. That way, everyone will know we belong to each other.”
“Yes. Everyone will know. And all through the Cold, whenever I touch it, I will think of you.”
For a moment, Kellein seemed surprised. “Through the Cold …
Kahless nodded. “I mean for my men and I to lose ourselves in the mountains. To give Molor time to forget we exist. Then, when the hunt for me has abated somewhat, I will send them away to seek their separate fortunes, unburdened by their association with me. And you and I will go somewhere the tyrant can’t follow.”
“I could go with you now,” she suggested. “To the mountains, I mean. I could remain at your side the long Cold through.”
“No,” he told her. “It wouldn’t work for me to have a mate when none of the others do. It would cause dissension. Besides, if Molor were to catch us, the worst he could do is kill us. A female, especially a strong one, would be handled much worse.”
Kellein ran her long-nailed fingers through his hair.
“But you’ll come back in the Growing.” It wasn’t a question. “And then you’ll ask the Lord Vathraq for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”
He grunted. “I will indeed. That is, if I’m still alive. She eyed him with a forcefulness