‘In a little while.’
Tor knelt and slid one hand around her waist to rest on the small of her back. Very gently, he pulled her to him, and he touched his lips to the smooth place where her neck met her shoulders. A line of kisses there, feather light. The Early Path: Spring’s First Flight.
‘Mmm.’ Sareena swayed with him, and he could hear the smile in her voice. ‘Do they really teach you all this at the House of the Long Night?’
‘I studied . . .’ he transferred his attention to the other side of her neck – ‘for years.’
He followed the line of her jaw and then kissed her mouth, firmly at first, and then deeply. The Morning Sun: Dawn’s Prayer. She responded eagerly, smoothing her hands along his arms and then his bare chest. Quickly, he gathered her up and lay her down in front of him, and she laughed a little – she was always caught unawares by how strong he was. Carefully, he pulled at one of the silk ties holding her outfit together, and the upper part began to unravel. She wriggled a little, and Tor smiled – he had known how the silk would feel against her skin, and had had the shift made specifically for this effect.
Leaning over her, he kissed the bare skin of her breastbone, and touched the tip of his tongue there. The Morning Sun: The Heart’s Obeisance. She sighed, and when she spoke again her voice was huskier.
‘That is very good, Tor, I can’t even begin to tell you . . .’
He followed the line of her body down, smoothing away the ribbons of purple silk and tasting her skin as he went. She was apricots and smoke, and a faint curl of oil against his tongue, left over from their afternoon together. Her hands found his hair and pulled and pushed at it, running it through her fingers. She was making small noises now, taking small breaths. He should slow down. The High Sun: A Silk Flower.
Pulling back slightly, he slid his naked thigh along the inside of her own – The High Sun: Chasing Leaves – and was pleased as she shuddered amongst the sheets. The confection of purple silks had fallen completely away, and she was quite beautiful. He bent his head to her breasts, and caught her eye as he did so. ‘You are a feast,’ he told her, ‘and I, my sweet, am ravenous—’
Something solid crashed against the chamber door and they both jumped. Tor lifted his head, his hair hanging in his face.
‘Oh no.’
There was another crash. It sounded suspiciously like a large boot kicking the door.
‘Oh no.’
‘Tor!’ The voice was remarkably loud. Tor winced. ‘I know you’re in there. I told you to meet me at sun down and it’s already moon up!’
Tormalin sat up. ‘I’ll be with you in a little while, Vintage! There’s no rush. Honestly, woman, we’ve been poking around these things for years and it’s not as if they’re going anywhere—’
There was another thump. ‘Sareena, my dear,’ the voice called, ‘get back under the sheets for me, would you? There’s a good girl.’
Sareena raised an eyebrow at Tor – he didn’t miss the amusement in the quirk of her lips – and then shimmied over to the other side of the bed, where she swiftly wrapped herself in the bed covers. Abruptly, the door crashed open and an older woman with deep brown skin and a mass of tightly curled black hair stomped into the room.
‘Vintage!’ Tor put on his most outraged expression, and pulled the sheets around his waist. ‘This really is unacceptable. Unacceptable. How dare you interrupt—’
‘Darling, if I had to wait for you to voluntarily leave this good woman’s bed, I’d be waiting until the Tenth Rain. And stop clutching at yourself like a maiden, you’ve nothing I haven’t seen before.’
She smiled warmly at Sareena, who waved cheerfully enough.
Tor spluttered and did his best to look affronted, but it was difficult to retain the moral high ground when you were naked in front of a woman who you happened to know carried a crossbow on her belt. ‘Really, Vintage, we haven’t completed our transaction, and it is an insult to the teachings of the House of the Long Night.’
‘Are you drunk?’ Vintage stalked into the room and snatched up the empty bottle of wine, peering at the label. ‘And on this swill?’
‘Yes, I am quite drunk, which is exactly why I cannot accompany you on your latest ridiculous quest. It would be dangerous for both of us. And innocent bystanders, no doubt.’
‘Nonsense.’ Vintage put the bottle down and fixed him with a glare. ‘Get back into your trousers, dear, or I will spend your wages on buying this girl some decent wine.’
Tor sank back, defeated. He needed what Sareena could give him, but he needed coin more.
‘You are leaving Mushenska?’ asked Sareena. ‘You are going beyond the walls? Is that safe, Vin?’
Tor winked at her. ‘Worry not, my sweet. What is out there holds no fears for an Eboran warrior and his fabled sword.’
‘I’m sure the girl has heard quite enough about your fabled sword for one evening.’ Vintage turned back to the door. ‘You’ve got until I bring the horses round. Have a good night, Sareena my dear, and do send me the bill for the wine.’
Vintage went through her pack while she waited for Tor. The Frozen Moon Inn, where Sareena kept her suite of rooms, was on the very edge of Mushenska. From where she stood she could see the lanterns of the city wall, and the one great beacon that marked the northern gate. If the lad got a move on, they could reach the place before sunrise.
Notebooks, ink, spare crossbow quarrels. Oatcakes, ham, water, cheese. A thick pair of leather gloves, a small collection of tiny glass jars, ready for any specimen she might be able to take. Knives, increasingly smaller blades for fine work. Sketching charcoal, grease, oil, a bundle of small sticks, some other odds and ends she hoped she would not have to use. With a sigh, she pulled the flap shut on her pack and secured it. She was as ready as she could be. Perhaps, this time, it might be worth all the preparation.
A polite cough alerted her to his presence. Tor could tread very quietly when he wanted to.
‘You’ve dragged me out of a warm bed. I’m assuming you have spectacular reasons.’
Vintage tutted at him. ‘My darling, when do I not have spectacular reasons?’ She led him around the corner of the building into the stables where two young horses awaited them. There was a pack for Tor, already affixed to his saddle.