 |
For ten days, Kelle and Cabirius had been racked with sickness as the poison purged itself from their bodies. Attis and Cybele had tended Kelle closely, but there was little that they could do for Cabirius, other than take him food and water every night. Cybele sometimes sat with him for as long as she dared, under cover of darkness. Between fits of delirium, he had written her messages to explain what he knew of Jenna and Thomias's plot. He had also confirmed that he felt strongly for Kelle, and that he wished Cybele and Attis all happiness together. Neither Kelle nor Cabirius could yet speak above a noiseless whisper, and Cybele was concerned that the two could be permanently mute. At least they both knew well their letters, so communication was possible. Kelle's cheeks were slowly starting to get their colour after two seasons of waxy whiteness. Both she and Cabirius seemed to be building their strength with each new day. Cybele and Attis planned to confront Jenna and Thomias with their two witnesses in front of as many people as possible. For this reason, they had chosen the next New Moon ceremony as the best time. That meant that they had only four more days to prepare. It also meant that they had only four days in which Jenna and Thomias could discover their intention. Cabirius was still in his captors' hands, and as he grew visibly healthier, there was a greater risk that they would realise something was afoot. Kelle had requested to see Cabirius, and seemed well enough to make the journey to his prison in darkness after Thomias had visited him with his evening meal. Cybele and Attis led her to the hut, then let her in and stood watch by the door in case Thomias returned. She entered the hut and was shocked to see Cabirius's condition. By the dim flickering light of the one small lamp, he looked almost skeletal. He had improved somewhat in the past half-moon as Cybele had provided him with good untainted food, but he was still no more than a shell of her old Teacher. He looked up at her anxiously from his mattress on the floor - he had received from her no response to his messages begging forgiveness. He had no idea if she resented what he had done, or if she had understood his torment at the time. He started to write her a message in the soft dust on the floor beside him, but she approached him and rubbed it out with her foot. She shook her head gently, and sat on the bed beside him, cupping his hands in her own. She stared into his eyes and smiled. He tried to speak, but no noise came from his throat, and she suppressed the attempt with a tender kiss to his lips. He embraced her and started to heave with soundless sobs. She stroked his hair, then pulled him down and lay beside him on the bed. She rubbed his chest through his threadbare gown, and felt his ribs jutting distinctly. She also felt another part jut against her, this being a far healthier sign. Cabirius kissed her desperately and held her as though he were afraid she were an apparition ready to disappear from his arms. She was no apparition, though, but a woman of flesh and blood. Her soft rounded body had not suffered in captivity as had his, and her skin was soft and yielding to his touch. She sat up beside him and pulled her gown over her head. In the flickering light of the lamp, her skin glowed a rich gold tone. She started to pull up his own gown, but he shook his head and held it down. He did not want her to look upon his starved and angular frame. She moved down to kiss his ice-cold feet. Her breath was warm and comforting, and her hands rubbed his skin to make the blood flow. She kissed his calves, and slowly edged up the hem of his gown. He did not resist this time, and allowed her to gently push it up to his thighs. She nuzzled between his bony knees, slowly prising his legs apart. His erection stood straight as a pillar, and she rubbed against it with her cheek through the rough cloth of his robe. He reached down to stroke her head tenderly, and she took his fingers in her warm mouth. They could hear the muffled sound of Attis and Cybele in conversation outside the door, and it gave them a feeling of security to know that they were being protected while they stole these moments together. They made no sounds themselves, apart from their breathing, which was heavy and deep. Kelle sucked gently on his thin cold fingers and he reached up with the other hand to squeeze her ample breast. She pulled his gown a little higher, and his phallus flicked out from underneath and slapped his belly. She put her own fingers in his mouth, then when they were moist, she slipped her hand down to take firm hold of his erection. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back as she straddled him and guided him into her burning cave. He took a sharp breath, and silent tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. They made love slowly, and with an almost aching tenderness. When he finally spilt, it was not the violent release of his previous coupling, but a gentle flow of warmth from his body into hers. Afterward, she remained on him, holding him closely until his manhood slowly and unwillingly slipped from her. She wiped the tears from his face and smiled at him with a love that needed no words. When she finally arose and dressed, he took from her the food she had brought for him and ate it hungrily. She knew that it was dangerous to remain any longer. They were all being put at risk the longer she remained. Tearing herself away, however, was an agony. She kissed him one last time before leaving and he gave her a look that she understood well. "Soon. We will be together soon, and for always." He did not need a voice to tell her. She collected up the flask he had emptied, and the cloth in which his food had been wrapped, and left without looking back. It would have been to painful to see him lying there. Attis bolted the door of the hut as Cybele led Kelle back toward the settlement. He spoke a final word of encouragement through the door to his captive friend, then caught up with the two women. They walked back to Cybele's hut in silence. Attis bolted the outer door, and led Cybele into the garden to give Kelle some time alone. Kelle cried herself to sleep on Cybele's bed while the other two talked in the shadowy light of the waning moon. "Are you jealous of Cabirius's love for Kelle?" Attis asked Cybele gently. "No. In all sincerity, I wish the two well. I love Cabirius still, but only as a friend. And you?" "I know not now if I ever wished Cabirius to love me, or if I only pursued him seeking rejection and self-punishment. If he had consented to me then, I would not have known what to do. I was not then capable of loving." "And now?" she asked. In response, he leaned forward and kissed her, pressing her body against a gnarled old peach tree. As she stepped backward, her foot sank into a soft patch of recently-turned soil. She pushed him away and looked at the ground. "What is it?" he asked. "This ground. No-one has tended this garden since Annia's disappearance, and this earth is freshly broken." She fell to her knees and began to dig with her hands. Attis took a spade from beside her hut and pulled her away from the patch. "Get a lamp," he told her softly. As she went into the hut, Attis began to dig the rich brown soil. The job had not been well done, and he struck his target within seconds. The grave was shallow, and there had been little attempt to cover the small body. Cybele emerged from the hut with a lamp, and he ceased his digging and turned to her. He took her in his arms and held her tightly. "We may as well leave her until first light. The Goddess will watch over her," he whispered. She buried her head on his broad chest. "We sent her to this, Attis. The blood is on our hands." "No. You are no more responsible for this than you were for Arithea. Annia accepted the task willingly, and we could not have foreseen this," he said. "I do not understand. If the new God's followers will take the life of an innocent such as Annia, why have they gone to such lengths to keep Cabirius and Kelle? It makes no sense," she said quietly. "We must ask Kelle exactly what she saw that day after the Harvester Moon." "You are right, though. It can wait until morn. Kelle has had enough grief for one night," Cybele said. It was a warm evening, and Attis sat on a patch of lawn chamomile. "I will wait out here, to make sure no-one disturbs her before light." "Like a fox returning for its buried prey?" "I think it unlikely. The grave is so shallow, she was meant to be found," Attis suggested, "and judging from the position, by you." "A threat?" Cybele asked. "Perhaps a warning more than a threat. We are both as vulnerable as any other, despite the mark of the Goddess." "Well, I will stay with you, then," Cybele announced, and sat beside him on the lawn. He put his arm around her and she fell asleep curled with her head on his lap. At first light, they were awoken by a movement. Their sleep was light, and they were alert in a heartbeat, but the noise was only Kelle at the door of the hut. She looked at them, then looked to the half-uncovered bundle in the shallow grave. Kelle knew what it was as well as they, and she let out an anguished cry. It was the first audible noise she had uttered in a half-year, and she clutched in pain at her own throat. "Do not try to speak, Kelle," Cybele said, "but we need to know where you last saw her. I will get you a slate and nib." She climbed to her feet and passed beside the horrified girl. When Cybele returned, the three of them sat back on the lawn in the first rays of morning sun and Kelle scribbled quickly what she knew. Forest. People moving in trees, following. Many people, maybe ten, maybe twenty, dark robes. Not Jenna or Thomias. Fast, young, like deer. No, like wolves. Annia screaming, sudden pain, darkness and smell of the earth. Awoke to nothing. Wood silent, no Annia, ran here. It was not much, but it was a strong indication. "Cerridwen's followers," said Attis, and Cybele nodded. "They grow ever more keen for blood," she observed. "Where will it end?" "With the death of the Goddess in all her aspects," Attis said bitterly, "for most will turn to the new God if Cerridwen is the alternative. How many today would gladly give her their firstborn?" "Not I, surely," said Cybele. Attis smiled at her protectively. "Nor I," he agreed. "Nor I," whispered Kelle hoarsely. "Your voice!" Cybele exclaimed. "It is returning!" Kelle nodded eagerly. "Do not strain it. It will strengthen soon enough." Cybele embraced her joyously, and Attis kissed her on the cheek. "I cannot wait to tell Cabirius," Kelle whispered with difficulty. "That you have your voice?" Cybele asked. "No, that he is to be a father," she said in quiet certainty, with her hand on her belly.
copyright
held 1996-2000 |
