Joden didn’t seem to notice her worry. He eased over onto his stomach, and she pulled back the bedding to reveal his back, His skin was a warm brown, and there were scars from old battles.
Amyu pored a bit of the warm oil on to her hands, and then straddled his buttocks. His skin was chill against her thighs. She rubbed her palms together and the sweet scent of the oil filled the air mixing with the teasing scent of the grasses of the Plains under the high sun. Amyu put her hands to each side of Joden’s neck, feeling the tension there.
She took a deep breath, trying to make it look like she knew what she was about. “We are of the elements. Flesh, breath, soul and blood.” With soft strokes, she started on Joden’s neck and shoulders. “The elements within you have become unbalanced. Let my touch aid you, center you once again.” She leaned in and whispered the ritual words.
Joden sighed, and his breathing slowed.
Amyu worked his shoulders in silence, then started down his left arm. She massaged his muscles as she worked, but she also moved the arm, trying to ease the stiffness in the joints. Joden let her have her way, moving as she commanded with just her touch.
She worked her way down to his wrist, flexing the hand and his long, strong fingers. “The soul is made of fire, and sits within the left hand.” She whispered the ritual words as she worked over his knuckles and kneaded his palm.
Joden mouthed the words with her, but he didn’t speak.
She finished his arm with a few soft strokes, and moved so she could ease the bedding over him to cover that side, and keep him warm. She moved back to his shoulders, placing her hands in the ritual position. “We are of the elements.” She repeated. “Flesh, breath, soul and blood.” With soft strokes, she started again this time working on Joden’s right side until she reached his hand. “The breath is made of air, and sits within the right hand.”
Joden took another, deeper breath, and let it out slowly. She felt him relax under her, which was good. She covered that side as well, and then eased off him to kneel beside. Which was also good, because she could feel her wetness in her depths, and the tight ache of her nipples.
Balancing the elements was a healing ritual, and it often led to sharing between warriors. But she’d not shared with another since it became clear that she was barren. The repeated act had become desperate and painful, and no one was willing to breed with her.
She hadn’t felt this heat in a long time, and she wouldn’t risk Joden’s rejection.
She arranged the blankets again to expose his buttocks and long, muscular legs. Which didn’t cool her own heat.
She distracted herself with more of the sweet oil, rubbing her hands together to warm them. Then she took a breath, placed her hands at the base of Joden’s spine, and recited the ritual again, and started to work his left side.
Joden’s breathing was even and strong, and again, when she worked his joints he moved with her silent commands.
She also noticed something else that made her frown as she worked. Usually, working the flesh like this, there was a warmth that grew from the body. Joden seemed warm and relaxed, but it was as if a deep chill had set into his very bones. It seemed to cling and resist her warmth.
Amyu shook her head at her fancy, for it had to be that and nothing more. “The blood is made of water,” she said, and she heard an answering murmur from Joden. He was echoing her words. She paused slightly, turning her head to hear better. “—And sits within the left foot.”
Joden’s lips moved as he soundlessly repeated the words.
Good. Perhaps that problem was fading. She covered his left side, and started again on his right side. Again, Joden repeated the words, faint and half asleep.
“The flesh is made of earth and sits within the right foot.” Amyu recited the final words. “Let the elements be balanced within and without. Flesh, breath, soul and blood, we thank the elements for their gifts.”
Joden’s murmur was faint, and his sigh was deep and grateful to her ears. The pleasure that washed over her had nothing to do with her physical desire and everything to do with her ability to aid him.
Amyu checked the pot. The meat was cooking well, and those small wild onions she’d found added to the scent. She wrapped the bones in leaves and thrust them into the coals; they could suck the marrow out once they’d cracked. It would be a while yet.
She added more wood to the fire, and then hesitated. She could keep watch, or—
Joden shifted, blinking at her, then lifted the blankets inviting her in.
Amyu didn’t give it another thought. She crawled over and in, to be wrapped in his heat, and his arms, and the scent of sweet oil.
Joden fell back asleep, and she yawned, and nuzzled his neck. She’d forgotten the pure pleasure of the touch of skin on skin in the warmth of a bedroll.
She stared up at the stone ceiling of the cave and gave some thought to the morrow. She needed to get Joden down the mountain, and to the Castle of Water’s Fall. She started to think it through, to plan…
Joden pressed his fingers to her lips, as if he could hear her thinking.
Amyu chuckled, smiling against the warmth of his fingers, and nodded, allowing herself to drift off to sleep.
She woke to the smell of the rabbit and onion and Joden shifting in the blankets.
Amyu pushed back the bedding, shivered in the colder air and reached for her leathers. Joden rose as well, moving toward the edge, his steps surer and stronger. She watched but made no effort to aid him.
The stew was thick and bubbling, and the bones roasted through. She carefully pulled them from the ashes, and set about getting ready to eat.
Joden sat back in the bedding, pulling a blanket over his shoulders. He took the smaller bowl she’d filled, and ate slowly, picking out the larger pieces with his fingers. She did the same, blowing on the meat to cool it. They traded the waterskin back and forth as needed.
She let him get halfway through his food before she spoke. “Tell me your truths, Joden.”
He paused, staring at the bowl, then nodded. “I d-d-don’t remember m-m-much…”
It was painful to listen to him trying to form the words, freezing up, shaking his head, at one point slapping his knee hard in the effort to force the words out.
At that point, he had set the bowl down, so focused on the effort to speak. He grew so agitated that Amyu feared that he’d fall into more convulsions. She nudged his knee, and pointed to the food. He sighed, nodded, picked up the bowl and started to eat again.
The few times she tried to finish his words, or guess what he was trying to say, just added to his frustration. Anger flashed in his dark eyes. On one hand, she was glad of it, for it showed her that his strength was returning. But she was also ashamed of herself, for she was no better than the well-meaning ones that tried to give her suggestions on how to get pregnant. She resolved to stop. To be patient, to wait, and to listen.
And slowly, painfully, he told her his truths. How he remembered being with Simus, meeting Snowfall, and then leaving the camp with Singers for his Trials. He wouldn’t talk about that, which was fair. Amyu suspected that Singers held secrets of their own.
He had memories of being attacked by a wyvern, and killing the beast.
He had no memories of climbing the mountain, no memories beyond when he’d woken in her arms.
“They say it happens,” Amyu said. “The theas used to speak of injuries that could cause a loss of memory. Usually in battle, and usually a head wound. What ever happened to you, however you arrived, that could be causing you to forget.”
“And s-s-speech?” Joden demanded.
“I do not know,” Amyu admitted. “But the Warprize is a healer, as is Master Eln. They will know.”