Heart of a Sorceress

Chapter One - part one

The sorcerer’s muscles gleamed in the morning sun.

Lara caught herself staring as a warm flush spread rapidly across her cheeks and down her neck.

The sorcerer called Sha’ul, in the act of splitting logs, was bare to the waist, his breeches tucked into his boots. His broad shoulders and chest flexed with the movements of his axe. Droplets of perspiration beaded off his muscles and the dark mat of hair that covered his chest.

Lara swallowed hard, her body suddenly too warm in her new rose-colored damask gown. She hadn’t meant to notice the way his chest hair funneled into a dark trail down his taut stomach and disappeared into the waist of his trousers. Sha’ul’s raven hair reached below his shoulders, tied at the nape of his neck with a leather cord.

When her grandfather, Solen, had sent her to Sha’ul to determine whether she had the mark of a sorceress, she had expected a stooped, gray-haired, bespectacled elf. Not such a man as this.

“This is Sha’ul?” she whispered to her cousin, Danni. Even the syllables of the sorcerer’s name, Sha-ool, rolled off her tongue with the sensual glaze of fresh syrup made of the do’or berries on the barrens.

“Aye,” Danni mumbled. The energy about her companion had darkened suddenly.

She glanced at her friend, recognizing immediately his jealousy. Her stomach fluttered. Danni was a good man and so hopeful of having his affection for her returned in kind. She couldn’t help that her heart only accepted him as a brother, not a lover.

“Come,” he said, “Solen told me to bring you here. I will finish the task.” He started forward, toward Sha’ul, and Lara had no choice but to follow, her hands tightening around the loaf of bread her stepmother had made as an offering.

Sha’ul looked up as they approached. He lifted the axe one last time and let the blade sink into the tree stump. He pulled a small kerchief from his trouser pocket and mopped his brow and neck as they came to a stop in front of them.

Lara fought to catch her breath. Up close, Sha’ul took her breath away. He was even more handsome than her father. A high forehead and arched dark brows drew her gaze to his eyes, brown pools that had the immediate effect of quickening her heart. The irises smoldered under their heavy fringe of equally dark lashes, making her feel at once safe and mystified.

He smiled. “Forgive me,” he said, his voice smooth and gentle. “I have no sense of time when I begin a task.”

Lara stared at him, her voice suddenly gone. She was helpless even to whisper a response and could only nod.

Sha’ul looked at her more seriously, his smile fading. “Daughter of Karan,” he said softly, “It is an honor to meet you.”

Danni nudged her discreetly and she held out her hand as Solen had instructed her. Meeting a sorcerer had its own set of formalities.

Sha’ul accepted her hand and Lara felt her knees turn to the consistency of porridge. He bowed and touched his forehead to the curve of her knuckles. She swallowed hard again and stared at the bell shaped sleeve of her gown and the embroidered cuff. Ariana had worked for weeks on this gown, preparing her stepdaughter to meet Sha’ul.

A moment later he looked up and gently released her hand. A smile once again curved his lips and the dark eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. “I can see I’m not what you expected, my lady.”

Danni nudged her again, a bit less discreetly this time. Perhaps it was his brotherly treatment toward her that had prevented her from returning his romantic affection. No, it was more the scars she carried from nearly having been a bed-slave in the Pierran Palace. So why was she reacting this way to Sha’ul?

“No, my lord,” she answered, her voice escaping in a whisper.

He chuckled. “Well, I was in the Veltish guards like Danni here, until the Council of Mages found me. But I still love swordplay. It’s probably what has kept me from being the little, bent over elf of a wizard you probably were expecting.”

Lara stared at him. It seemed he could read her mind and her heart quickened to an unsettling pace.

“Excuse me a moment,” he said. He turned and retrieved a tunic that lay draped on the side of a small stone well a few feet away.

Lara watched Sha’ul slip the tunic over his torso, the chiseled brawn of his shoulders and chest disappearing under the rough cloth. At her side, she felt Danni’s irritation worsen and wished he would leave, even though she would then be alone with Sha’ul.

“Why don’t we go inside,” Sha’ul gestured toward the small stone cottage. “We have much to discuss.”

She nodded, her stomach fluttering.

“Do you wish me to stay, sir?” Danni asked the sorcerer.

Sha’ul furrowed his brow. “No, Danni. It’s better if I speak with Lara alone.”

Solen had told her that this would happen, that there were certain things Beings of Power could not reveal in the presence of others.

“Very well, sir.” Danni bowed politely to Sha’ul. He looked at Lara. “I’ll pass by for you in a while.”

Struck wordless again, she nodded.

Danni turned and stalked off down the path toward the forest. Lara knew he was going to visit the forest witches. His sisters, Renna and Kira told her in breathless giggles how the beautiful forest witches made love to their brother, even though he wasn’t a Being of Power. According to legends about the forest witches, their rare exception in Danni was a testament to his physical beauty and guileless nature.

“Come, daughter of Karan,” Sha’ul said when Danni had left.

Lara followed the sorcerer to the small cottage. Her heart had begun to pound and she hesitated on the doorstep.

The interior of the tiny room was, to her relief, inviting. The wooden planks of the floor were bleached and swept immaculately. A fire smoldered in the large hearth. The only furnishings were a crude wooden table and chairs and an invitingly soft bed covered with a thick layer of furskin blankets in the corner. Bunches of dried herbs hung from the rafters and cooking utensils were arranged neatly on hooks in the stone walls. Yet, in spite of the stark simplicity, the room emitted a sense of coziness, dispelling the ghosts of her fears.

Sha’ul stood by the wooden table, eyeing her. His brown gaze conveyed sympathy and Lara felt a comforting wave pass over her. She stepped inside and approached the chair he held out for her. As she sat, she became aware of the sack with Ariana’s bread in her hand. She held it up, still finding speech nearly impossible. “This is for you…my lord,” she murmured, remembering at the last second to address him respectfully. “My stepmother, Ariana, made it for you.”

“That was very kind of her,” he said, gently taking the offering from her hands and setting on the table. “Would you like some tea?”

Lara’s stomach jumped. She couldn’t imagine being able to swallow tea right now, but couldn’t possibly refuse her host. She nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

He smiled. “Coming right up.”

The warm twinkle in his eye made her smile then avert his gaze. Head slightly lowered, she watched him set out cups and a fill a teapot with steaming water from a large little on the fire. “I think you’ll like this blend, Lara,” he said, setting the pot on the table to steep. “I invented this one myself. A little hobby of mine.” He winked.

Lara let out a slight gasp and looked down again. Her palms were quite damp now but she didn’t dare wipe them on her new gown.

Moments later, Sha’ul picked up the teapot, poured an amber fluid into each cup and sat in the chair opposite her. She thanked him and picked up her cup, taking a small sip. The tea was strong and sweet. She set down the cup and looked around, as if to make sure the walls would not close in on her. She was just beginning to get used to the burrow-like rooms of her father’s longhouse.

“Would you rather go outside, Lara?” Sha’ul’s gentle voice cut into the rising panic. His tone soothed her and his empathy caused hot tears to surface.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

“Lara, look at me.”

His voice pulled her attention and she caught her breath at the sympathy radiating from the dark pools of his eyes. “There is no shame in having been a prisoner,” he said. “Just because the feelings are still with you, does not make you a coward.”

“I’m not brave like Ariana,” she murmured, her cheeks burning. In her lap, she clenched her fists where he couldn’t see them. Ariana had been a kitchen slave and then bed-slave in the Pierran Palace for most of her life. When the queen she served had been murdered, she knew she would be accused and escaped the palace, only to turn around and go back in disguise just to rescue Lara for her exiled father. Lara could never imagine loving a man so much she would risk her life for him, as Ariana had done.

“I feel certain she would disagree with that statement.”

She looked at him. Ariana did disagree with her whenever they spoke of that experience. “She does, actually, my lord.” Looking down, she took a warming sip of tea.

“Then I’m right.”

Lara lifted her gaze to Sha’ul again. He was smiling at her in that tender way that made her insides as soft as mud. “If I were brave, I would have already put those years behind me.” Lara found the words tumbling from her lips like a churning river. “A brave person does not hate her own father.” She bit down on her bottom lip to prevent any more mortifying admissions. Certainly, Sha’ul would march straight to her father and tell him what she’d said. There was no possible way in the creation that she could have the makings of a Being of Power.

“I think I understand.”

Lara let out a small gasp at the quiet statement. How could he?

“There’s a part of you inside that blames him for everything that happened.”

His words, like arrows, hit their mark inside her. To her shame, tears pooled in her eyes. “Yes, my lord.” She sighed, her hands fisted on her lap. “There is no excuse to blame him,” she went on. “What could he have done? The Pierrans would have murdered him if he’d tried to go in there and rescue me.” She fell silent, not knowing why she felt suddenly so free to discuss her enslavement with Sha’ul. There was something about him. Until this moment, the only person in the world she trusted enough to speak freely with was Ariana.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sha’ul sip his tea, a pensive expression on his chiseled features. “All you say is true, Lara. He could not have saved you. But you were very young when it happened.”

She nodded. “Fourteen.” Although, to her, no age was the proper age to watch your mother raped and slain, and your father bullwhipped and wrongfully branded a traitor. Anger burned through her veins, fueling every moment of revenge she’d ever vowed to take against the Pierran dogs who stolen her life from her.

“Yes. A child, really.” He leaned forward in his seat, his gaze on her gentle, yet burning with a mysterious intensity. “Lara, you cannot fight your feelings. They don’t have logic, or wrong or right, only heart. You must let them be. Maybe it sounds strange to you, but the greatest power a sorceress has is compassion. Not only for others, but for herself.”

For the first time, Lara looked him straight in the eye. “Are you saying I have the mark, my lord?”

He looked at her, studying. “Don’t worry about that right now. I want to make sure you heard what I just said to you.”

Sha’ul sounded patient, yet Lara only wanted him to answer her question. She wasn’t interested in having compassion for her own feelings. Defiance flickered through her, only to melt away under his sympathetic gaze. Silently chastened, she looked down. “No, my lord. I did not hear you. Not in my heart anyway.”

To her surprise, the sorcerer chuckled softly. “It’s all right,” he said. “It takes a long time to learn such a lesson.” He paused and she felt him studying her again. “And to answer your question, I believe it’s quite possible. I have to look deeper though.”

She whipped her face up, her eyes widening. Renna and Kira had told her about the sorcerer’s kiss, about how Beings of Power delve into a person’s soul by joining their lips to the other’s. Her heart began to gallop and she grabbed fistfuls of her gown. The only person she could bear to have kiss her at all was Ariana. The mere thought of a kiss sent terror racing through her, resurging all her memories of Mardya, a woman in the palace haram who used to force kisses from her during the short time she was there. Mardya had been about to rape her when Ariana snuck in and rescued her.

Her fear must have shown clearly, for Sha’ul’s smile faded. Concern washed once again through his brown eyes. “Don’t worry, Lara,” he said in a gentle tone, “I won’t kiss you, not if you don’t wish it.”

Heat bloomed in her cheeks and she avoided his gaze, afraid at the same time of offending him. In truth, a part of her emerged suddenly that wished such intimate contact. Something about him made her feel safe, the way she did with Ariana whom she trusted completely. “I… I can’t…yet.” She braced herself, waiting for a reproach.

“I understand,” he said. “However, I do need to look.”

Wordlessly she nodded.

Sha’ul stood and pulled his chair directly in front of her. He sat down so close that their knees practically touched. A smile curved his lips and that look of kindness she’d seen several times during their meeting radiated again through his features. “This isn’t supposed to be painful, but if you feel at all violated, I’ll stop. All right?”

Lara’s heart gave a thud in her chest. “Yes, my lord.”

“You may call me Sha’ul, if it makes you more comfortable. I know I’m older than you, but I’ve only just reached my thirty-second year.”

She stared at him. The thought of addressing him so familiarly horrified her. In spite of how grateful she was to be out of slavery, servitude had been ground into her. The fear of punishment for disrespect had become as natural to her as breathing. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, “I can’t do that, either.”

His expression softened even more. “I don’t have to look inside you to know you’ve suffered horribly. I give you my word I’ll do my best never to hurt you.”

“Thank you.” She looked down at her hands. She didn’t trust herself not to burst into tears if she saw the same sympathy in his face she heard in his voice.

He moved forward in his seat, a bit closer to her. “I have an idea. I’ll let you look into me first. If you can see anything I’ll know you have the mark. Only a Being of Power can delve that deeply into another’s soul simply by touch. Would that be better?”

Slowly, Lara brought her gaze up to his. The suggestion made her feel more in control, more empowered. She’d had enough of being at the mercy of those in power. “Yes, thank you.”

He smiled again and Lara watched tiny lines etch the bronzed skin of his rugged cheeks. Her heartbeat quickened again and her body weakened in a pleasant way. A tingling sensation flushed her breasts, all the way to her n*****s and her breathing deepened. Terrified that he’d see what was happening to her, she took a deep breath and straightened her back.

“What should I do?” she asked softly.

Sha’ul held out his hands. “Hold my hands.”

His hands were large, the palms callused, she knew, from the swordplay Danni had told her he and Sha’ul practiced together over the last several years. Danni explained on the way to Sha’ul’s cottage that Sha’ul had been a captain in the Veltish guard when Solen had seen the mark on him as well and Sha’ul had undergone his own training in magery.

Lara put her hands on his, their palms touching. The contact sent a frisson of sensual warmth through her entire body and she almost pulled away. Her fingertips rested lightly on the network of veins in his wrists and her thumbs wrapped over the sides of his hands. She took another deep breath.

“Now,” he said, his voice close to a whisper, “Close your eyes and just watch.”

Obediently, Lara closed her eyes, her awareness solely on the warmth passing back and forth between their joined palms. For the first time since she was fourteen, she found herself enjoying the touch of another human being aside from Ariana. Her breath hitched when an image rose in her mind.

She saw a young boy about eight with long dark hair, tromping over barrens wearing boots too large for his gangly size. In the background she recognized her father’s longhouse. The image melted into another image with a dark-haired boy, a bit older than the first, standing beside a grave, tears running down his face. Lara recognized the boy’s face as Sha’ul, and somehow understood she was watching his life. An older man stood at the grave next to him, one large hand on his shoulder. Lara saw the resemblance to his father and intuited that the grave held Sha’ul’s mother. Sha’ul crouched down and released a handful of earth onto the grave. A tear ran down his face, yet Lara saw how his features strained from holding back the tears.

Time passed and she saw him as a young man. He looked the same as he did now, only younger, wielding a heavy broadsword. His father stood nearby, apparently instructing him in the art of swordplay. She saw him in the Veltish guards, fighting in battle, his face and body smeared with blood and dirt as he felled Pierran soldiers. In the next vision he was standing with a young woman. She was pretty with dark hair, her eyes gazing on him. Moments later, the vision turned dark and Sha’ul was wielding his sword again, fighting to free the same woman from a Pierran officer. Sha’ul’s opponent wore a fierce expression, his eyes glittering, thirsty for Sha’ul’s life. Sh’aul slew the man and picked up the woman who appeared to be dying, and cradled her in his arms. Her dress was torn and dirty and Lara watched as she closed her eyes and went limp.

Lara heard herself whimper as the scene tore into her heart. The visions continued and she kept her hands in Sha’ul’s. Time passed and he was older, much as he appeared now. She saw an old man, apparently instructing him in magery. Sha’ul stood by a roaring fire. He reached his hands into the flames and pulled them out, a ball of orange flames glowing in his hands, yet not appearing to burn his skin. More images passed and Lara saw Sha’ul sparring with Danni, sparks flying from the blades of their broadswords as they clashed. She saw him standing in front of the cottage, watching her and Danni approach. Lara recognized the very gown she wore and realized she was watching the moment of their meeting.

Suddenly, the images shifted and she watched Sha’ul instructing her in the use of a broadsword. His arms were around her, his hands over hers as he helped her lift the heavy weapon into the air. She saw the two of them out in the barrens. Sha’ul pulled a plant out of the rocky ground and showed it to her, explaining something about it. Then, she saw them in his cottage, sitting together on the fur skins of Sha’ul’s bed. Lara was wearing a blouse and bodice and Sha’ul unlaced the bodice and then pulled the blouse up over her head.

Lara gasped at the vision of Sha’ul staring down lovingly at her bare breasts. One large hand closed gently over one breast and he leaned into her, pressing his lips to hers…

Her eyes flew open and she pulled her hands back as if Sha’ul’s skin had burned her. Heat burned in her cheeks and she stared at him.

Sha’ul furrowed his brow and worry crinkled the skin around his eyes. He frowned. “Lara, what’s wrong? Was it the battles? I’m sorry. I should have warned you.” He closed his eyes and shoved a large hand through his hair.

“No, my lord, I’m…I’m fine.” Lara struggled to steady her breath as the last image of Sha’ul, his hand on her breast, rang in her mind. She remembered the expression of pleasure on her own face as he touched her. Her eyes closed, her head tilted back, her lips slightly parted, waiting for his kiss. Heat continued to flare in her cheeks and swirl through her body, concentrating especially between her thighs and in her breasts. Her body raged with unfamiliar sensations, tinglings and burnings she’d never before felt and she was torn between wanting Sha’ul to pull her into his arms and kiss her and wanting to rise and flee.

Sha’ul rose and poured some more tea into her cup, which he handed to her. “Sip this,” he told her.

Lara held the small wooden cup with both hands, but they trembled so badly she almost spilled the tea. Sha’ul put his hands over hers, steadying her to bring the cup to her lips. She took a small sip and let him take the cup away, immediately missing his warm touch.

He sat back down in front of her. “I’m sorry, Lara. That was foolish of me. I should have known better.” He sighed heavily. “The Pierran raids,” he went on. “Their armies made it all the way up here, where only the Beren traders had been before.” He shook his head. “Of course, I should have realized you’d see that. It must have brought back terrible memories for you.” He looked at her, trapped her with his sorrowful gaze. “I beg your forgiveness.”

She stared at him a moment. Did he not realize—no, he didn’t know what had shaken her. His ignorance of that erotic image calmed her a bit and she found her voice. “There’s nothing to forgive, my lord. I’m honored that you trusted to show me your life.” A tug pulled in her chest as she felt the truth of her words, initially only meant to reassure him. “You…have suffered as much as I have.” As soon as the words left her lips, she realized they were true. In that moment, she felt less afraid of Sha’ul. He was simply a man, not another cruel slaver who would have power over her as her Pierran captors did. She understood deep down that the sorcerer was good hearted and would not treat her as they had done.

Sha’ul bowed his head. “Thank you, Lara.” When he looked back up, his brown eyes had misted over. “Your words mean a great deal to me.”

Lara stared at him again, bewildered. When Danni brought her here to meet Sha’ul, she had not expected the sorcerer to let her see into his life. She had not expected him to treat her with respect and humility. She had prepared herself for reluctant submission to his authority. Perhaps…just maybe…she did have the mark of a sorceress. Then she could spend her time in Sha’ul’s presence. The sensual vision of them together resurged and she looked down at her hands. She even found herself hoping for more…

Sha’ul smiled at her. “Lara, the fact that the visions came to you when our hands touched shows that you have the mark.” He leaned a bit closer to her. “You could not have seen so much this soon if you didn’t have it. Your grandfather was right.”

Lara blinked as Sha’ul’s statement coursed through her consciousness. You have the mark of a sorceress. The reality of his words had so many implications, her mind, still reeling from the visions, could not absorb them all and the power of speech eluded her yet again. She cleared her throat. “What do I do now?” Her voice came out in a whisper.

“Just show up for your training,” he answered softly. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Do I…need my father’s permission?”

Sha’ul sighed. His eyes once again looked troubled. “Unfortunately, no. The Council of Mages asks no one’s permission, not even the one whose life is about to change completely for having the mark.”

She blinked. “Change?”

He nodded. “Aye. A sorcerer or sorceress’ life is not his or her own. I will be honest with you from the first moment, Lara. You are to serve your fellows and your planet now. Your wishes or desires are secondary.”

Her heart wrenched. “Oh.”

He reached out and put a hand over hers. His touch was warm and alive, as comforting as it was thrilling. “It’s not horrible, Lara. I shouldn’t have made it sound that way. But my teacher didn’t warn me until much later. He would have saved me some heartache if he had.”

She nodded. Nothing he said made sense to her, but at the moment she didn’t care. All that mattered was that Sha’ul was to be her teacher now.

Sha’ul stood and drew her up with his hand still over hers. If she wasn’t mistaken, he seemed reluctant to release her hand. “We will begin tomorrow morning,” he said. “Do you have any questions?”

She shook her head, gaze trapped on his handsome face. Every inch of her body coursed with a strange fire, , making speech and thought impossible.

“I must make preparations then.” He smiled. “I know you’ll want to get back and tell your family what’s happened.”

She nodded again. “All right.” To her disappointment, he was leading her toward the door of the cottage and she lifted her gown a bit so she wouldn’t trip, nervous as she was from his touch.

Danni was in the front yard, waiting when they emerged from the cottage. A lock of his dark blond hair had come loose from its tie and hung over his forehead, which Lara suspected was a result of his tryst with a lovely forest witch. At their approach, Danni turned and stood at attention, looking respectfully at Sha’ul. The other man had been, after all, a higher rank in the guards before his calling to magery.

Sha’ul signaled to him and Danni relaxed his stance and turned an expectant gaze on Lara. “Your friend here begins her training tomorrow,” Sha’ul told him.

Lara watched Danni’s green eyes cloud over. The jealousy she’d sensed from him simmered once again in the air and she shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. In the nine months since her father had brought her and Ariana back to the Veltlands, Danni had become a faithful companion. During the recently passed Grudin Arhev, the Veltish festival day celebrating love, he had even had given her a bunch of wildflowers, the traditional offering for the festival. But unfortunately, in all that time, he’d never affected her the way Sha’ul had within mere moments of meeting him.

Danni looked down at her, his jaw muscle tight. “Congratulations, Lara.” His voice was as strained as his jaw and she felt hot tears threaten her eyes. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how important Danni’s friendship was to her and feared losing it.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sha’ul’s hand come out and gently clap on Danni’s shoulder. “This is going to be very hard for her,” Sha’ul told him. His voice was gentle yet firm. “She needs your support.”

Lara’s gaze whirled to the sorcerer whose dark eyes glowed meaningfully into Danni’s. When she looked back at Danni, the younger man looked chastened and nodded with humility. “Yes, sir,” he murmured. “Lara has my unspoken loyalty, always.”

Sha’ul nodded and released Danni’s shoulder. “Thank you for bringing her. You’ll do the same tomorrow?”

“Aye, sir.” Danni turned to her. “If you want, I’ll take you back to Ariana.”

She nodded. The mention of Ariana’s name made her want to curl up next to her like a little girl. Ariana was the one person in the whole world whom she could tell about the new sensations and emotions coursing through her.

Remembering that Sha’ul was her teacher now, she looked up at him. His brown eyes, the color of warm chocolate, brimmed with unspoken affection. The depth of feeling unsettled and surprised her. Sha’ul barely knew her, yet he radiated kindness and empathy.

“Go in peace, Lara,” he said softly.

Lara bowed her head. “Thank you, my lord.” With her heart pounding, she turned and left with Danni at her side.