The knife and whetstone clattered to the floor. He caught hold of both her wrists. She struggled against him but could do little but flail her elbows as she tried to free herself to hit him.
“What more can I do to convince you to trust me?” she hissed. “I stopped lying with other men to prove I could be faithful. I became a better mother to Nerie when you told me I was neglectful. I confessed to the master and mistress and risked being expelled for you.” His calm silence was infuriating. She wriggled her hands, resisting again. “Why don’t you answer me?”
He was gruff. “I believe you had no part in what happened today. That’s not why I’m angry with you. I saw you kissing Aricia’s cheek. I told you not to befriend her again. She means more to you than me if you choose to ignore my wish. She deserves no forgiveness.”
She gasped in frustration, the injustice scalding her. He was condemning her for a moment’s affection for a girl who was contrite. “No one should be blamed forever. And don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”
He held her fast, his fingers manacles. “If you are to be my wife, then you should obey me.”
“And I don’t want to be your wife if you don’t trust me!” She thrashed against him, then, maddened he would not let her go, she bent her head and sank her teeth into his hand.
Grunting in surprise, he released her, examining the bite mark. Semni ran to one end of the bench and grabbed the pitcher and threw it at him. He deftly caught it and placed it on the worktable. Infuriated, she reached for the ewer, ready to launch the next missile, but before she could grab it, he lunged and enveloped her in a bear hug, restraining her arms against her sides.
Her cheek pressed against the cloth of his uniform as she struggled against his strength. She was incensed he could so easily control her, conscious also that he could crush her ribs with the merest increase of pressure. “Let me go!”
He continued to pin her against him. “Are you going to stop trying to hurt me?”
She squirmed, but resisting his iron embrace was tiring. She relaxed. She could hear his heart thudding, the beat slow and calming. “You can let me go. I promise to stop.”
He dropped his arms from around her, but as he shifted back, she clasped his forearms, a different emotion rising. “Hold me.”
He hesitated, but she encircled his neck. “Hold me,” she whispered into his ear, nipping the lobe. “I want you.” He inhaled and closed his eyes, his body tense, but he did not move away. She grazed her mouth across his, her teeth tugging at his lower lip. At her teasing, he groaned and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her to sit on the bench. She gasped at the force and speed of his embrace but as he slid his hands along her thighs under her chiton, she gripped his wrists. “Not yet. I want to see all of you,” she said, releasing him to unbuckle his belt and tug at the sides of his uniform. Impatient, he pulled his tunic over his head, throwing it to the floor in one fluid movement, then reached for her again, but she still held him at bay, her arm straight, one hand pressed against his chest.
Her eyes followed the coil of the serpent. It was narrow as it twisted around his massive neck, then gradually thickened as the scales wrapped around the musculature of his chest, waist, and abdomen, before tapering again around his hips down to his groin to disappear into his thatch. She smiled. His penis was erect and ready. The snake was not two headed but it had a tail.
“Don’t make me wait,” he growled, seizing the shoulder of her dress, ripping it in his haste. She smiled, wriggling out of the shift, her hair tumbling down her naked back and breasts. Then she wrapped her legs around his waist. As he pushed into her, her nails dug into the flesh of his back, and she dragged them downward, raking the scales of the snake. Arruns arched for a moment, then pumped harder. Semni tightened her legs around him, locking her ankles across each other, determined not to let him go until they had both finished, wanting his power and heat, waiting for the moment when his seed would flow into her.
His breathing was ragged. Hers also. Semni laid her head against his shoulder, his sweat coating her cheek. They said nothing, their body heat cooling. After a time, he carried her to the pallet so they could hold each other.
“I have heard of fighting tooth and nail,” he murmured. “I did not think making love would be the same.”
“Well, you promised me it would be worth waiting to see the other end of the snake. I wasn’t disappointed.”
He didn’t comment, but in the failing light of the oil lamp, she noticed him smile.
Thoughts of what she’d seen at the temple surfaced. If the red scourge spread, not even palace walls would protect those inside. And the prospect of starving now seemed real. She didn’t think she could bear to watch Nerie dying of either plague or famine: his little body skeletal, his belly bloated, his eyes dull. She couldn’t bear to lose Arruns either. “It was frightening to walk through the citadel tonight. The sickness is coming. Are you afraid of dying?”
Solemn, he turned on his side, observing her. “I try not to dwell on it. Instead I’m determined no man will kill me. I would prevent others taking you and Nerie, too. And the royal family.”
“Fists and daggers cannot battle hunger and disease. You could perish from a rash instead of a wound. Hunger may deprive you of the strength to defend yourself.”
His eyes flickered. “I have faith in the master.”
“Why do you believe in him so much? He’s a man like any other.”
“Perhaps, but his courage is without limit, and he’s wily. If anyone is to find a way to rescue this city, then it will be him. I owe him my life.”
“And he owes his life to you! The debt has been repaid.” She thought of how Arruns suppressed his frustration at his master not taking him to war. “Don’t you resent him for leaving you behind?”
He pressed his lips into a hard line. “He expects me to protect the queen and children. It’s not my place to question his decision. And now I’ve breached my promise to him by lying with you.”
His retreat into duty irritated her. “I don’t regret what we did. We should enjoy life while we can.” She ran her fingers along one corded vein on his forearm. “My milk is drying up. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to nurse Thia. I don’t think Lord Mastarna would be angry now. I know Lady Caecilia would understand.”
He engulfed her hand with his palm. “And what if you fall with child? You should’ve let me pull out of you like I did the first time. You know I don’t believe that another son should be born into war. What awaits him? A lingering death by starvation? A fevered ending by the scourge?”
“I want your child, Arruns. I don’t care if there is a war.”