Heart of a Sorceress

Chapter Two - part one

Sha’ul was waiting outside the door of his cottage when Danni dropped Lara off. Her stomach danced nervously the moment her gaze alighted on the sorcerer’s darkly handsome visage. His long raven hair was pulled back with its leather tie, causing her eye to follow its path down his broad back to the muscles straining against his thin white shirt.

“Good morning, Lara,” he said.

She halted. Immediate heat fanned through her middle. Oh no, how was she going to do this? “G…Good morning…my lord.”

He smiled, dark eyes twinkling, as they had yesterday when he prepared them tea. “Thank you, Danni.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” With a nod to Lara, Danni turned and went back up the path.

“Come in,” Sha’ul said, holding the door open for her. As she passed by, his raw masculine energy shimmered right through her blouse and bodice, like warm fingers caressing her skin. “Have you had breakfast, Lara?” He closed the door behind them and indicated the seat at the table she’d had the day before.

Obediently, she seated herself, shaking her head. “I’m too nervous. My stomach will not accept food this morning.”

Sha’ul chuckled, a warm rich sound that sent another rush of heat through her body. “I understand,” he said, ladling something from a kettle onto a plate, “but you’ll need your strength.” He set the plate in front of her and took his seat. “Magery requires great physical as well as mental strength. Try this.”

Lara recognized Ariana’s bread under the mound of stew, the scent of which she didn’t recognize, yet which made her salivate. The aroma wafted upward, into her nostrils, coaxing her appetite to life.

She picked up her spoon and scooped it full of Sha’ul’s offering, embarrassed at the sudden ravenous hunger that gripped her. The flavors melted on her tongue and when she swallowed, her entire body felt relaxed and nourished.

Sha’ul sat watching her, sipping from a mug. His dark eyes glowed warmly and the corners of his masculine lips worked into a widening smile. “I think you like it.”

She nodded, swallowing one spoonful after the next, struggling not to appear as piggish as she felt, until her plate was empty. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and took a long sip of cool water from a goblet by her plate, avoiding the sorcerer’s compelling gaze. “That was the best food I’ve ever tasted,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

Sha’ul laughed gently. “You’re very welcome. It’s a secret recipe the forest witches taught me. I’ll be passing it on to you before long.”

She nodded as an ugly stab of jealousy shot through her. Undoubtedly, the forest witches consorted with Sha’ul as well as with Danni, which probably meant the sorcerer would not return the powerful attraction she felt for him. She looked down at her empty plate. “I’ll wash this.” She stood from her chair and picked up the plate.

“There’s no need.” Sha’ul stood and took the plate from her gently. “I’ll set it to soak for now. You must change before we begin your training.”

Lara stared at him, her stomach clenching. “Change?”

He nodded. “Aye. You cannot train in your skirts. The forest witches made you some trousers and a pair of boots. They’re over there.” He pointed in the direction of his bed. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

She swallowed past a lump in her throat. “Thank you, my lord. The witches…were kind to…make clothing for me.”

The sorcerer smiled. The dimple that formed on the clean-shaven plane of one cheek nearly mesmerized her, touched off a rising hunger that pulsed down between her thighs. “You’re welcome, Lara.”

When he was gone, Lara approached his fur skin-covered bed. The mere sight of it touched off her memories of the visions. Yet, now she realized that the image of Sha’ul making love to her was wishful thinking on her part. He had the forest witches, who probably kept him satisfied.

With a sigh, she divested herself of her skirts, folding them in a neat pile on the bed and stepped out of her slippers. She put the breeches on over her stockings. The new item fit perfectly and she cinched the waist with the corded belt before tugging on the soft chaya-skin boots.

Lara emerged from the cottage. Sha’ul stood a few feet away. She frowned when she saw his broadsword dangling from one large hand. He took a step toward her. “Come,” he said, touching her lightly on the shoulder. Obediently, she fell into step beside him down the path.

The morning was cool, with a smoky mist hanging over the tops of the tall fir trees that made up the forests at the edges of the barrens. Gray clouds blocked the light of the sun and the air was still, punctuated only by birdsong.

Sha’ul led Lara off the path into a meadow of high grasses and wildflowers. He stopped and turned to her. Her eye fell on the glinting steel blade of his broadsword. To her surprise, he set the weapon on the ground at his feet. “Lara, before we begin, we must exchange our vows, the vows of master and pupil.”

Her eyes widened, locked on his serious, dark gaze. She nodded.

Lightly, he grasped her shoulders. “I, Sha’ul ben Lodron, vow as your teacher, to be a friend to you, to teach you the art of magery to be used for the common good only and to protect you to whatever degree is in my power. The bond between us in this sacred relationship shall be honored in this embodiment and beyond, until both our souls reach the final dissolution.”

Lara’s heart pounded wildly in her chest as Sha’ul recited his part of the vow. Each word sank deep into her consciousness and she felt the bond between them strengthen even from his speaking of mere words.

He fell silent and bowed his head. She was afraid she should be saying something in return, but had no idea what was expected of her.

“Lara bat Karan,” Sha’ul began quietly, “Do you vow as my pupil to honor the sacred bond between us, to fulfill your obligation as one with the mark to claim your full powers of magery and use them for the common good alone?”

She nodded. “Yes, my lord.” The moment she responded, she felt an infusion of strength deep inside her and straightened her shoulders a bit more under his hands.

A tiny smile tugged at her teacher’s lips and he squeezed her shoulders gently before releasing them. “Let’s begin then.” He reached down and retrieved his broadsword from the damp grass. “If you remember, I said to you earlier that a mage must be physically strong. This is because in practicing magery, you will, at times, defy the laws of nature that govern the physical realm. I’ll give you an example.”

Sha’ul closed his eyes. His body, as well as the air around him, grew still. The next moment, he vanished.

Lara gasped. “My lord?”

“I’m still here, Lara. If you reach out, you’ll be able to touch me.”

Tentatively, she held out her hand, feeling the heat from his body as she drew closer. Her fingertips alighted on the corded muscle of one arm, which quivered at the light contact over his thin shirt.

“By the gods,” she breathed. Catching her mild oath, she recoiled and stood straight, at attention. “I’m sorry, my lord.”

He chuckled, slowly becoming visible again. “It’s quite all right. The oath I let loose was far worse when my teacher first demonstrated this move to me.”

Lara grinned in spite of herself.

“So,” Sha’ul continued, “You need to be strong in order to perform such feats.” His expression grew serious. “You never know when you’ll need them.” He held out the broadsword. “Take this from me. Use both hands.”

Lara reached out and took hold of the hilt. As soon as Sha’ul released the weapon, the weight of it dragged her over and the blade sank into the earth.

Sha’ul put his large hands over hers and lifted the broadsword up, keeping his hold on her. “All right. Your low level of strength is as I thought. I certainly don’t expect you to wield this weapon as I, or Danni or your father would, but after some training, you should be able to swing it around more easily. Once you can, you’ll be able to begin training in the Defiance level of magery.”

With his hands still over hers, Sha’ul maneuvered his body until he stood directly behind her. Lara felt her back rest lightly against Sha’ul’s chest. His powerful arms covered hers. Her heartbeat set to galloping and she swallowed nervously, her legs threatening to give out under her.

“Now, Lara, lift your arms.”

Lara did as she was told and the sword rose in the air, blade pointed toward the sky, with the help of Sha’ul’s strength.

“Very good. Just follow my movements.” He proceeded to swing slowly to the right, then the left in a graceful arched movement. Lara’s arm muscles strained against the heavy weapon, in spite of Sha’ul’s hold on it.

Sha’ul moved her through an entire series of movements that brought them back to the beginning position. He then lowered the sword and took it from her.

Lara breathed heavily in relief. Her arms ached horribly from just the little bit of movement and she realized how weak she had been kept in the palace even though she’d been put to work in the kitchens for a while. Once she was near to age for the haram, she’d been removed from the kitchens and trained in the s****l arts, none of which had required her physical strength, only her compliance.

Unbidden, hot tears sprang to her eyes. She bowed her head shamefully, working unsuccessfully to fight them. Before she knew what was happening, Sha’ul had set down the sword, stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. One large hand cradled her head, pressing it gently to his chest.

“It’s all right, Lara,” he crooned. “You must feel your sadness, all of it, if you’re to be strong. Don’t think that’s not part of what we’re supposed to work on together.” As he spoke, his hand caressed her hair.

In spite of her grave embarrassment, his touch soothed her and she sagged against him, one hand clutching the rough material of his shirt. She felt safe and warm in her teacher’s embrace and in moments, the wave of sadness had passed.

Wordlessly, Sha’ul brushed the tears off her cheeks with the pad of his thumb and stepped back.

“Thank you, my lord,” she whispered.

His dark eyes smoldered as he looked back at her and he appeared to be struggling inwardly. “Now, if you’re ready, we’ll go through the movements once again and that will be enough strengthening for the day.”

Lara nodded, her heart racing. When Sha’ul positioned himself behind her again and had her take hold of the sword, she found herself squashing the impulse to turn to him and ask for his kiss. He covered her hands again with his own and guided her through the movements with the sword, taking most of its weight on himself, yet leaving just enough for Lara’s muscles to work.

When they’d finished, Sha’ul stepped back and lowered the broadsword to his side. “How was that?” he asked quietly.

She smiled shyly under his gaze. “Difficult. But good.”

He returned her smile, although his dark eyes looked troubled.