The War God's Wife

Chapter 11: Testing The Limits

Another week crawled by as Calli and I began to explore our courtship.  As often as we could, we would steal away to little secret moments to kiss and touch and hold, like starving beasts desperate for a bite of food.  Sometimes, we would slip out after Lyterias fell asleep to sit under the stars and talk.  Calli talked most often of her mother:  little stories about when she was a child and all the adventures she and her mother would have, or jokes her mother would tease her father with (many of which sent me into spasms and tears).  I spoke of what the world was like.  Calli was fascinated with the breadth and size of Ultima, of its many landscapes and countries and all the traditions and social customs that varied from place to place.  Her wide eyes and riveted attention made me want to furnish each story with every possible detail.  As strange as it seemed, I found myself enjoying telling Calli the stories almost more than I had enjoyed actually fighting in them.

We also had not had intercourse.  She was a virgin (which thrilled me, for a reason I couldn't explain), and she made it very clear that she would be more than willing to surrender her first time to me.  For some, mad reason, though, I told her I wanted to hold off on such a special occasion.  Instead, we contented ourselves with other pleasures.  Her womanhood was tight and stretchy, and she made the most blood-boiling noises when she was being pleasured and eventually climaxed.  I discovered this by use of my fingers, tongue, and a little lightning magic applied gently to certain . . . areas.  She had also begged me almost to tears to simply take her and make her mine, as I had already said she was.  But, even with my manhood threatening to snap my belt and tear through my pants and my own body begging to take her, I had insisted on waiting and pleasured her again.

I think the primary reason was Lyterias.  Ever since that day I gave Calli her gold bangles, he had been extra vigilant.  The bangles themselves had drawn his ire.  Calli had simply said they were a gift from me as an apology for punching Jonathan, but he didn't seem to buy it.  Now he took every chance he could to not leave us alone together.  Twice, he had popped into the room suddenly, glaring at us as we busied ourselves trying not to look like we hadn't been kissing furiously but a moment before.  I feared that we would begin, something would alert him, and in he would burst to find a Tel'mak balls deep in his only daughter.  It would be the end of it all.  So I waited and refused her, even reminding her of the risks.  It was difficult, sometimes even frustrating, but, to me, Calli was worth every risk.

I also resumed my workout regime.  Now I forcing myself to complete whole exercises at near impossible speeds.  I did long races and marathons around the forest track at breakneck speeds all without a drop of magic to enhance me or relieve the crushing exhaustion.  I did push-ups and curls in sigils of wind magic, the air blowing down on me with the force of a hurricane.  I pushed my Well to the extreme, forcing it to near unbearable limits till my energy layered on my skin like plate armor.  And then I started doing my training while still maintaining that concentrated layer of energy.  It was like walking through the realm of the dead and back, but I could tell I was getting stronger.

Twice more, in the dead of night, I attacked the life-stealer while compressing my energy.  Both times, more spidery cracks and gray dust appeared.  At the end of one month of being there and one week of being Calli's lover, I gave it one, singular, no-holds-bar strike.  My fist punched a hole up to my elbow into it, and a huge crack split across its face.  As I wrenched my hand from the gaping hole, an undeniable fact took root in my heart that night:  I could destroy the life-stealer at any point now.  And that would mean the end of my time with Calli.

After that night, I stopped all attempts on the life-stealer.

Quietly, one month turned into two.  I practiced, helped Calli and Lyterias, stole kisses and fondles from Calli, ate, practiced some more, fondled some more, and slept.  We went back to the village, and I finally picked up some new clothes.  I also decided to stop by the blacksmithing shop and watch him as he performed his craft, all with a studious eye memorizing every detail and word he gave me.  Back at Lyterias's house, I made my own makeshift forge with spare tools and leftover steel the blacksmith had given me for free.  Now I added blacksmith practice to my schedule, spending a couple hours every day hammering, filing, tempering, and sharpening.  Calli wrinkled her nose after I finished each day, greeting me with a sharp "You better be going straight to the wash because you aren't setting a foot inside until you do!"  But I think she finds it attractive as I spotted her staring at me lustily while I was hammering a couple of times.  I made sure to flex my muscles extra after that.

At the start of three months, I finished my blacksmithing project.  Wearing a massive smile, I slipped into the house, one hand behind my back.  Calli was measuring out a red potion into a vial, her concentration absolute.  I stood beside her, waiting giddily like a child on Midwinter.  When she had stoppered the vial and set it down safely, she at last gave me her attention.

"I know you've been there a minute," she sighed, bracing against the table.  "Now, what do you . . . ?"  Her voice trailed off, as she at last took in my appearance.

"You wretch!"  she cried, her eyes sparkling with anger.  "I've told you so many times not to come in here after you've been forging!  You trail dust and ash and sweat and what?!"  Her tirade had only made me smile wider, and I at last pulled what I had been hiding from behind my back.

It was a dagger.  The blade was long and thin, barely wider than the length to my first finger's first knuckle at the base and nearly as long as Calli's forearm.  It had a diamond-shaped profile and narrowed all the way to the point, like a spear.  The crossguard was curved into an S-shape with a ring in the middle, and I had tried to make it as delicate and ornate as possible while still being functional.  The handle was polished and waxed wood and was ovular in shape with a slight swell in the middle for better grip.  At the end was the pommel, which was shaped like a steel potion flask:  a thin neck and a bulbous body.  I presented it to Calli hilt-first, my fingers firmly holding the flat of the blade.  She took it gingerly, and I slowly released my hold as she lifted it and flourished it.

"It's so light," she marveled.  I beamed at her, pleased with myself.

"That was the tricky bit," I said smugly.  "The length of blade and amount of material made it difficult for me to try and keep it light; however, by keeping the whole dagger thin and compact, I managed to keep it relatively light.  Plus, with a good counter weight in the pommel, you should feel the blade is easier to control."  She gave it a twirl to see.  The blade practically danced in her hand.  She made several experimental cuts and thrusts before nodding in satisfaction.

"Incredibly well done for your first blade," she said, her eyes shining with pride.  I laughed.

"Not my first blade," I admitted.  From my belt, I drew a different knife.  This one had a shorter, broader blade, thick and heavy, with a fuller cut out of the middle to lighten it.  The guard was simple and wide, with a wobbly curve in it that barely resembled an S.  A straight, wooden handle with brass pins and a disc-shaped pommel completed the hilt.  It was rough and ugly.  Calli giggled as well.

"Nice to know Tel'mak need practice as well," she teased.  I gave a mock gasp as I sheathed my new knife in its simple sheath I had made of leftover scraps of leather.

"How dare you!"  I scolded.  "We Tel'maks do everything perfect.  How else could we be gods?"  She giggled at my mock outrage, and I slid my hands to either side of her, pinning her against the table.  She smiled up at me, our faces only a breath apart.  My heart jumped happily, and I kissed her, savoring the feel and taste of her lips.  She kissed back just as eagerly, her hands encircling my neck to pull us that much closer together.  Her fingers became entwined in my hair.  I gave a happy little moan; I had discovered that I loved her playing with my hair.  I let the kiss end and nuzzled her nose with mine.

"I love you, Calli," I whispered.  Her smile widened even more.

"I love you, Chance," she whispered back.  My smile widened even more, and I leaned in to kiss her again.

"What in the name of the cursed gods are you doing?!"  I froze.  My blood chilled in an instant.  Calli's eyes flew open, wide with horror.  Slowly, I looked up from her to lock eyes with a very red and heavily scarred Jonathan.

I left the gods-cursed door open.  Like a storm-blown fool.  Shit.