The Return of the Dragonhawk

Chapter 33 -- Heart of my Heart

Do not let him stray from your side this time, even if it means barring the door, Alyn advised Rhoz. You can thank me in the morning.

Rhoz felt her neck and cheeks flush. I had no such thing in mind! My only thought was to serve your and Alyx' bodily needs.

Alyx has bodily needs only you can satisfy. Laughter danced through the words, then ceased as Alyn took a more serious turn. He needs to feel like a man again.

After a final good-night to Alyn, Alyx hobbled through the door Rhoz held open for him. When they were alone, he turned to Rhoz, his eyes reflecting twin images of her lamp. Her heart pounding, she moved closer.

"I dreamed of you in my fevers," he said.

She longed to come into his arms, but checked herself for fear of upsetting his balance. "I have dreamed of you, too."

All through her afternoon and evening of battle councils and casualty reports, she had kept her spirits up with the thought of a private moment like this. Utor had promised that, barring a major attack by the Northlanders during the night, she would be undisturbed until morning.

She turned her lamp up a little, the better to light their way along the corridor, which lacked the phosphorescence of Draklunys. As they walked, she re-examined Alyn's words.

Alyn seemed eager to throw her and Alyx together now, but would she regret it in the days to come? They were so close -- could it really be nothing more than the love between brother and sister?

Alyx' breathless voice broke into her thoughts. "Your Akynaship -- Mighty Mistress -- how must I address you to get your attention?"

Rhoz stopped and looked back. Alyx was ten paces behind her.

She waited for him to catch up. "A thousand pardons," she said. "I did not notice that you were falling behind."

"You did not notice! I thought myself more fascinating than that!"

What shall it be? she asked herself. More banter -- or the truth? She had never even told him of the blood-sister ritual she and Alyn had performed, fearing that he would take it amiss.

"I was fretting about our future," she said, avoiding an outright lie. On this night of nights, she wanted nothing to come between them, not even the truth.

"The only future I care about at this moment is my next meal. Is it much further to your chamber?"

"We are almost there." She pointed ahead. "The second door on the left."

He said nothing more, but gave his full attention to locomotion, his brow furrowed with concentration. She matched her pace with his.

He smiled with satisfaction at the sight of the fine assortment of left-overs from the dining hall, and forgot everything but his stomach for a time. Rhoz finished her meal, then picked at some fruit and watched him eat. His ordeal had left his cheeks hollow. She imagined him lying alone in the open, prisoner of his shattered leg.

I should have been with you, her heart cried. Why did you drive me away?

He sat back at last, with a grunt of contentment. "I did not know how hungry I was."

"That little couch facing the fire is comfortable," Rhoz said, "and I have some mulled wine keeping warm. I will even let you put your foot on the table if you wish."

His smile widened. "A rare opportunity! Does this mean that I am forgiven?"

"Forgiven? For what?"