A Bard's Prophecy Part 3

"Small Bears fit in small places."

"What-Oh!"

"Yes."He laughed harder.

"Love you."

"Love you."He touched the tip of his nose to hers."My mate."

"Mmm."She turned her cheek against his chest."Mate. Like that."

They drifted off to sleep together, a perfect fit, two s.h.a.ggy brown bears entwined as lovers. They were perfect together. Powerful enough to bring down prey twice their size, gifted with vision to see in total darkness, armed with claws meant to rend and destroy, small enough to fit in a ship's berth, or a tunnelcarved by the hands of the Earth dwellers, the Dwarves who had first mined the heart of Elahandara.

Shaymmadah stumbled down from his perch at the ship's stern, too exhausted to remember why he'd been angry, too tired to care. Strong arms captured him, stroking, soothing, supporting his useless weight, comforting. Too big. He was too big for even the mighty General Tranorva to deal with. He let his mind focus on the form she liked best, the one that took the least energy to maintain. It was his last coherent thought before she swept him into her arms and he drifted off to a deep, dreamless sleep.

"The G.o.ds must have been crazy. What could they have been thinking? No sentient being can possibly be expected to think with two heads at once."

The rant was low, almost under her breath, but not quite out of range of his hearing. He frowned, trying to escape, but 'twas no use. Apparently she'd been going on like this for some time. There was no way around it. He was definitely awake. Awake and naked and sprawled in a large, lavish bed. The floor seemed to rock gently under a bed that could therefore only have been that of the Captain's quarters on a ship. Remembrance came crashing down on him.

"First there was the knife. 'Twas no' as if I could no' have taken on a few Sorcerers on my own. 'Twas no' as if falling onto that wee knife made it any easier for me to deal with the witches. Then the G.o.ds send me to some lost island no mortal can locate in search of his soul. And what do I find there? An island of bad tempered b.u.t.terflies. Now he decides he's going to turn into a Dragon and burn down the ship."

Shaymmadah rolled to his back, smiling despite himself as he scrunched farther up on the pillows, watching her pace the length of the small quarters. If she knew he was awake, it didn't show. Her pacing-and ranting-continued uninterrupted. Her thin leather undertunic molded itself to her agitated body as she paced, showing off hard lines and broad planes of tight muscles.

"Why? Will we be in less danger adrift on a pile of charred boards out in the sea? Then as if one bad tempered Dragon isn't enough he has to go and call forth another one. Why don't we just call them all?They can burn down the halls of Elahandara and then we won't have to worry about bad tempered males with no common sense who have no' learned to trust. We can just cook the place and scramble about in the ashes to see if there's aught left to rescue. What good is it to be the most feared Warrior in all the lands when the fool of a man finds it necessary to do his best to get us all killed at every chance he gets?"

He would not laugh. No. That would be bad. She was obviously not in the best of moods in the first place. Though truthfully her anger made her that much more appealing. Instead he arranged himselfcarefully in the bed, taking on the darker form of Elandine, courtesan to the queens, for the contrast his skin tones would make against crisp, clean bed linens. He turned the covers back into an artfully arranged tussled ma.s.s, exposing the length of the naked body he knew she admired, his c.o.c.k rising hard and proud into the cool ocean air.

"Come to bed, M'Lady."

She whirled to face him, her expression all too easy to read, freezing in place as she took in the picture he'd chosen to present. He swallowed a small gloating laugh of triumph as her expression changed, needy hunger flickering across her face. All that power. In this form, she could break him in half with her bare hands. Seven foot of honed muscle and ma.s.sive bone, eighteen stone of seasoned Warrior, the shaft of her battle axe stained to a dark mahogany with rivers of blood, and the sight of him naked could undo her.

He smiled, the wolfish smile of a predator about to devour his prey. He made his voice softer this time, barely more than a low growl. "Come back to bed, Tranorva."

"No." Her voice sounded petulant, almost childishly so. "I am angry with ye."

"Aye. I'm sure you are. And with due cause. We shall discuss this anger, and the reasons for it. Later. Right now I have need of you for other reasons. Right now I want only to sink my c.o.c.k into that tight, hot c.u.n.t of yours until you make me forget what a fool a man can be. I want to hold you and kiss you and f.u.c.k you until I forget there's a world out there waiting to share its problems with us. The world can wait. I want you to myself for the little time we have left."

He stretched out an arm, fingers reaching for her, his eyes feasting on the raw power and rugged beauty before him. "Come here."

She turned toward the door. "No. Ye will no' distract me with promises of s.e.x."

"Do not make me chase you."

"Would ye? Would ye run naked after me through the ship?"

"You know I would."

Her face seemed to be at war with itself, a grin trying to rise through the anger. "I find I rather like that image."

She was closer, but he was faster. He reached the door first, blocking it like a defensive guard. He crouched slightly, ready to pounce, but she feigned left, then changed directions, diving across the bed with a shoulder roll. d.a.m.n agile for a seven foot Warrior. He lunged to meet her, capturing her from behind as she tried to spin away from him. His hold around her waist brought her a.s.s back firmly against his c.o.c.k, which was, of course, right where he wanted it. Her teeth snapped at his throat as she twisted in his arms.

The feel of her hard, toned body ready to fight him made him want her even more. He lunged to meet her offensive, biting her lip as her teeth missed their mark. She countered with a wicked snarl that sent the blood pounding through his c.o.c.k. They came together in an a.s.sault that was one step away from open warfare, growling as their tongues sparred for supremacy, darting between snapping teeth and lunging lips. He pulled her hips hard against his needy c.o.c.k, grinding against her in an attempt to find some relief, and instead finding he wanted her even more. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as her a.s.sault on his mouth deepened into something more demanding.

The undertunic she wore was in the way. She let go of him long enough to raise her arms as he yanked the thin leather up and over her head. She backed him across the room toward the bed-or he pulled her toward it-though they could not possibly have arrived there by mutual agreement. He thought to pin her there, driving his c.o.c.k deep into a p.u.s.s.y that was already wet and more than ready for him. Instead she rolled with him until she was on top, driving herself down on his thick shaft until the coa.r.s.e hair of her mons tangled with the dark, springy curls around the base of his c.o.c.k.

He let her win for the moment, satisfied to pull her down far enough that he could capture an unbound breast, sucking the nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud in the middle, teasing until she smashed down harder against him, riding him for all she was worth.

Her ride took on a fevered pitch, plunging up and down on the length of his c.o.c.k until her skin glistened with sweat and her breath came in ragged gasps. Loosing his hold on her nipple, he caught her off guard, reversing their positions with a quick flip of her hips. He pulled her legs over his forearms, opening her wide as he pushed down into her, pausing to savor the moment. "My turn."

He caught her hands as she pulled at him, pushing them down against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Show me what you want."

For a moment her dark eyes opened wide, staring up at him in confusion, before she arched up against him, her fingers brushing over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His c.o.c.k twitched hard within her as she pinched and twisted at the dark flesh of her nipples. A feral smile settled over her face. She raised a hand to her mouth, then went back to rolling the slick, glistening nipple between her hard Warriors' fingers. She moaned as she twisted and stretched the twin points of desire, grinding her hips up against him.

She squirmed, moaning in protest, as he pulled almost out of her, then cried out as he plunged in hard and fast. It wasn't enough. He could never get enough of her. He stroked hard against the top of her v.a.g.i.n.a, sliding a hand between them to play with her c.l.i.t as he pounded into her. Hard and fast now, deep, sharp strokes that demanded. He got what he wanted. She came for him as he slid the hard ridge of his c.o.c.k's head in and out over the sensitive spot she could never resist. He held for a moment, watching her face contort as the waves of sensation washed over her, loving the feeling of her hard muscled body contracting uncontrollably, all that power, all that strength, undone by the feel of his c.o.c.k buried in her c.u.n.t.

He gave her but a short respite before he began again, pushing her hard, demanding more. Slick, wet flesh banged together with a sucking sound that urged him to more.Harder. Faster. Deeper. More. She twisted, trying to get away, gasping for breath as she came again, screeching out a thin, high pitched wail. This time there was no relenting. He was too close. He needed too much. Wanted so much that it frightened him. Her hands rode his hips now, pushing, pulling, giving, taking.

She laughed as she raised her hips to meet him with each thrust, urging him on. She reached for him now, nipping, biting, kissing his lips, his chin, his shoulder. Never, never in all his more than a century as an expert in pleasuring women had he met one who demanded as much from him, or who gave him as much in return. She clenched her sheath around him, squeezing hard. In revenge he sat up straighter, wrapping her legs around his waist as he knelt between her thighs, leaving room enough between them so that he could see all of her. He grinned, loving the look of his ebony skin against her warm ivory tones. As he watched, her c.u.n.t swallowed his dark, glistening c.o.c.k until it all but disappeared into swollen pink flesh, her body shaking with the impact of each thrust.

There was room now to slide his thumbs alongside her c.l.i.t, sending her into an o.r.g.a.s.m so strong that her hips rose convulsively off the bed. Her nails dug into his thighs as she twisted beneath him. The tight clench of her greedy p.u.s.s.y around his c.o.c.k sent him over the edge, arching back hard as he made his final thrusts. He cried out with the pleasure that was almost pain as her c.u.n.t fisted around him, wringing the spurt of his seed from him like so much juice from an overripe lemon, sucking and squeezing until there was nothing left to give.

When at last the spasms that had held him rigid subsided, he slumped over her. She was the one who found her strength first. He was too exhausted to object as she cradled him against her chest, laughing against his hair as she smoothed it away from his face.

"You will be the death of me, woman."

"Aye. One way or another. If I don't strangle ye I may f.u.c.k ye to death."

He curled more comfortably against her damp, flushed skin. "I can think of worse ways to go."

She swatted weakly at him. "The real reason I have no' killed ye yet is that ye keep me well entertained."

Life slowly dripped back into his muscles. "Aye. Well, it's good to have a purpose." He thought to mention that Gendalaine had once said very much the same thing to him, but decided perhaps now was not the time.

Chapter Four.

"You said something earlier. About a Dragon?"

"Mmm." Tranorva ruffled her fingers through his hair. "I have no wish to discuss thy temper tantrums at the moment."

"Not me. You said I called forth another Dragon."

"Aye. Do ye not remember?"

"Not entirely. She-I touched her somehow. She said my anger gave her strength. I couldn't let go. She was so hungry."

Tranorva's touch changed, becoming more the light stroke of a mother comforting her child than that of a lover. "She came to ye from the North East. I was most jealous at first when I saw her coming, but she disappeared. From the sound of things, I should say she has been entertaining Balthain these last few hours."

Elandine groaned, hiding his head. "Balthain? Takuri is with Balthain? You mean they are lovers?"

"Aye. A noisy pair of lovers they are, too."

"No. I don't want to know this."

Tranorva's hand stilled in his hair. He felt her tense ever so slightly, as if preparing for a blow. "Is she-was she thy lover?"

He didn't even try to smother his laughter this time. "Takuri? My lover? May the G.o.ds save me from such a fate. No. No, my love. Takuri has never been my lover. 'Tis much, much worse. She is my sister."

"Thysister ? That great blue Dragon is thysister ?"

He rolled to lay beside her, propping himself on his elbow to watch her face contort with rapid changes of emotion. "Well, half-sister. She is one of Pajja's get. One of hundreds.Sidhe breed true. A Human mother or a Bear, it matters not. My mother was an Elf, one of the elite from Talismar. But she couldhave been a Dark Elf from Elahandara.Sidhe breedSidhe . My father has sought to repopulate the world withSidhe , siring children with any woman who would have him."

"And ye? How manySidhe children have ye left behind? Shall Dragons begin to drop out of the sky, calling out to ye? 'Father! I have come home to ye!'"

Elandine stretched his length against her, fully recovered now. Dipping his head, he flicked his tongue over her breast where it jiggled with her laughter. "Should they do so, I will be as surprised as you, my darling. To the best of my knowledge, I have no offspring to date. Perhaps we should make some. Would you like that? A little baby Dragon of your own? They're so cute. Especially when they first learn to breathe fire."

"I suppose they shall all have tempers like their father's? Angry one moment yet demanding attention the next?"

"And they shall be as lovable as I am, too. But they will have their mother's strength, and her compa.s.sion."

Tranorva propped herself up on one elbow to face him. "I have not heard of this fable. Their mother is not known for her compa.s.sion. Lest ye mean the forbearance by which she allows ye to live when ye plague her so." She slid a hand behind his head to pull him closer. "Remind me again why I show ye such tolerance."

Perhaps Takuri had seen the right of it. Tranorva was not a woman-a General-who thought in termsof losing. Ever. Elandine ran his fingers through her hair at the temple, studying her bold features oncemore. "I love you, Tranorva. If you tell me you are going to walk back out of Elahandara, you and you alone I will believe, though of any other Mortal I would think it impossible."

"I have no intention of dying in those accursed halls," she promised. "I will live to govern House VinDall, First House of Clan Bear. But tell me ye will stand on my right, father to my children, and the voice of reason when my Warrior's heart would rule, lest I too learn to breathe fire and roast all who pet.i.tion me."

"I will be there at your side," he promised.

It was a promise he had every intention of keeping.

She stood over him, her smile indulgent as he looked up at her from the gra.s.s, his arms crossed under his head, the sun warming his skin, her smile warming his heart. "Come see what I have found." The light breeze lifted her hair around her face, like a dark halo glowing in the sunlight. She held something out, letting it fall into his waiting mouth. Even before he tasted the fruit he knew it would be plump and ripe and delicious. She always found the best strawberry patches.

A scream of fury rent the morning air. The children's laughter stopped as they all turned to look toward the sound, but the warning came too late. The darkness swept over them like a summer squall, slaughtering all in its path-all except the children. The screams tore at his soul. He reached for his sword, knowing he was already too late. Then they were fighting, urging those who could to defend the gates, even though it was already too late, too late... They could not save the children...

A shriek of pain and rage pulled him from his troubled sleep. "Father! Father, help us!"

"Anika?"

"No! No! Father, help me!"

"Anika, let go of the dreaming. Come back to me."

She fought him for a moment longer, her body as toned and tight as a Warrior expecting attack. At last she took a long, shuddering breath, relaxing slightly under his touch. "Calib?"

"I am here."

"The children. They-we-my mother's people were after the children."

"You had the dream as well, my love?"

"Dream? It must have been a dream, but it was so real! It was as if I were there, in the midst of the battle, yet apart, looking down on what was happening. I wanted to let my anger loose on those who attacked my charges, but I could not. I do not understand why. It was so hard to watch them die while I did so little. I fought them, but I fought them as a Sorceress. My strongest spells were not enough to stem the tide. I cursed my father's house for the weakness of the form I was forced to a.s.sume. Why? Why could I not shift? The Dragon could have done so much...she could have saved them..."

Calib cradled her against his chest, rocking gently as he held her. "Think, M'Lady. Remember your history. In all the stories pa.s.sed down to us, when did you ever hear even the legend of a Dragon?"

"I...the pa.s.s. The Pa.s.s of St. Gregory."

"And what happened there?"

She pulled back enough to stare up at him, her eyes widening in understanding. "St. Gregory slew the Dragon."

"Even in our times, when magic has returned to the lands, we know naught of Dragons. Why? If a Mortal might become a Saint by the death of just one of your kind, then the father you spoke of might well forbid his daughters to show themselves."

"People would have been afraid of us," she reasoned. "We're bigger. Faster. Stronger. I could-the woman I dreamed about could have stopped them all. But she didn't. She wasn't allowed to shift. There was some great prohibition against her shifting. Maybe St. Gregory was not alone. Maybe there was a war, between Mortals and Dragons. Maybe we learned never, never to show ourselves to the Mortals again."

"But why now? That's what I don't understand. The magic has returned. Why the need for secrecy now? Such magic could turn the tide of battle. Such magic could change the face or our lands."

"Such magic, such power as I felt, unleashed, could have destroyed all those who oppressed us. I could have single-handedly shifted the balance of power. Defeated the enemies of Clan Bear with a single blast of my breath."

Calib stared down at her, comprehension dawning. "Unless they'd had a Dragon, as well. One for each side, to keep the balance of power."

"And if one was good, two would be better. Or three. Or whole armies of Dragons."

"But how would one enslave a Dragon?"

Her skin grew cold as ice under her his hands. "The same way one would enslave a Warrior. With loyalty and honor and love. In the dream, I was part of the Clan Bear. I was there with you. But had I come to that scene even a year ago, I would have come on my mother's behalf. Perhaps she knew what I was all along. Perhaps I was to be her secret weapon. I can tell you she had no such power. Had I shown any sign of my true bloodlines earlier, my powers would have been worshipped. I would have owned my seat on the Sacred Council. I would have had my choice of mates, and I would have bred by now."

The fear he'd lived with since he first touched her claimed his heart again. "You could still have all that. If that is what you want."

Irritation flicked across her face as she rose to pace the small room. "d.a.m.n all males. Perhaps Mother was right. Perhaps you are too dense to be trained for anything besides pleasure slaves. Do you not understand what I am saying? Think, man-thing. Think! What do you know of spiders? How do they breed? There is a reason only High Priestesses of the Circle of Eight are allowed to reproduce!"

Calib swallowed hard. "Spiders-spiders lay eggs. Hundreds of them." He jumped to his feet. "We have to warn the others. How many? How many sisters were born of your brood?"

"I do not know. My mother never spoke of my sisters."

"How many could there be? Dozens? Hundreds?"

"We are not as prolific as true spiders. Four or five at the most."

"Five Dragons waiting for us inside that mountain. Clan Bear will all be gathered in one place again. But this time the balance of power will be shifted. It will be genocide. We have to warn the others."