Page 122 of The Dark Mage
She leaned back against him, pleased by the thought of uninterrupted days in his company.A spark of anticipation coiled in her stomach.
“What do you know about Loringa?”she asked, curiosity tugging ather.
“Not much,” Fael admitted.“And what I do know, I don’t fully trust.Everything I was told about dark mages turned out to be untrue—well,almosteverything.”
She giggled.“Almost?What wastrue?”
“You are terribly violent at times,” he replied huskily, his gravelly tone sending goosebumps cascading across herskin.
“And?”she pressed, voicesly.
“And you can kill quite effectively,” he continued, his fingertips teasing the inside of her thigh.She squirmed at his touch, settling more firmly into his lap, acutely aware of his growing arousal.“And… you keep your beard and goatee trimmed so elegantly.”
Ren’wyn elbowed him—not very gracefully—and Fael’s shout of laughter echoed through the forest, drawing her own laughter out in response.
“To return to Loringa,” Fael went on, still chuckling, “I’ve heard they’re vicious—raiding, slaughtering, and pillaging the borderlands.The peninsula itself is a harsh place, with drought and heat giving way to bitter cold and flooding rains.Survival there demands strength.Many of them turn to piracy, and they’re said to be cruel.The divide between men and women is vast; women are seen as far inferior.”
A little shiver escaped Ren’wyn.It was not a place she desired to go.
“One of my teachers, Master Jure, was from Loringa,” she said.“He was cold and calculating, and his magic often bordered on cruelty.His story was tragic, but his iron will helped him survive things I can’t imagine.”
“I don’t know if the Loringans are as wild and cruel as people say or if they’re simply misunderstood,” Fael admitted.“Maybe a little of both.Either way, I’d rather not find out while we’re traveling alone.”
Ren’wyn nodded in agreement, and the two of them fell into comfortable silence as they continued down the southern road, the cicadas’ song and the steady rhythm of Patina’s hooves their only companions.
The next week was the happiest of Ren’wyn’s life, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit it.She and Fael shared a bed at every inn and a saddle during theday.
Through forests and savannas, across rocky outcroppings, and over clear, babbling streams, they traversed the stunning southern reaches of Luremala and the Loringa foothills.Fael’s arms were strong and warm around her as they rode, and they filled the hours with stories, laughter, and bits of shared wisdom, the countryside stretching lazily beforethem.
“What did you bribe Esrin with to get us this much time alone together?”Ren’wyn asked on the fourth day.Fael had estimated they still had four more days to reach Riva, but the longing in his voice made it clear he wished formore.
“That I wouldn’t murder him slowly with a dull dagger after removing his balls,” Fael replied darkly.
Ren’wyn burst into laughter, turning to see the mischievous glint in hiseyes.
“No, honestly,” he continued, “I reminded him how long the trip can take, especially double-saddled.He didn’t put up much of a fight.”
“Good,” she smirked, letting her happiness show freely.
They made love every night, their passion undimmed by aching muscles, sunburned skin, or the weariness that came from long days of riding.Ren’wyn couldn’t imagine a better way to spend her time, even with the occasional soreness.
That night, their only one camping in the open, they stopped on the edge of a vast, unsettled stretch of the Loringa foothills.Fael had purchased a thick woolen blanket in anticipation of the cooler autumn air, and Ren’wyn looked forward to curling up with him under the stars.They camped at the base of a rocky cliff that curved against the persistent eastern wind, setting a fire where the forest met the open plain.Ren’wyn gathered firewood and spread their bedrolls while Fael coaxed flames tolife.
After supper, she nestled into Fael’s arms, savoring the warmth and the feel of his chest rising and falling against her back.Eventually, he stirred, stepping away to begin the Passage.He drew his short sword as he moved, modifying the elegant, flowing forms of the exercise.Ren’wyn watched the controlled power of his movements, his body a fluid dance of strength, before standing to work through her own routine.Stretching and pushing her body, she recognized her increased strength and confidence.
“You’re faster,” Fael noted as she finished, his sharp gaze assessing herform.
Without warning, he tossed her a dagger.
“Fight me,” he said, teasing and serious in equal measure, beckoning her closer with crooked fingers.
“No,” she said, placing her hands on herhips.
Fael shifted into a deeper stance, his arms raised in front of him.“Come on, Ren’wyn.Show me what I’ve taughtyou.”
“Fael, I’m tired,” she groused, but his grin widened as he shuffled toward her, his intent clear.
When he lunged and grabbed her arm, pulling her forward, she stumbled.
