Chapter 5
Tristan paced the expanse of his bedchamber, mulling over the events of the day. He had gone from waking to see Pagan blink her innocent eyes at him that morning, to have her stare at him with anger and hurt at the sight of him. He ran his fingers through his hair as his frustration threatened to burst free.
“Damn!”
He stopped in the middle of the room and looked at his empty bed. He wanted her back in his bed and there was no way she was going to lay with him willingly, not after what he had done. He marked her as his, and he knew if she found out what he had done, she would never forgive him.
It was an impulse decision to do so. It was an act that was an ancient practice, and one that rarely was used anymore. It served its purpose at a time when there were more males than females and the need to secure a mate was a man’s first priority. The man found the woman he wanted, held her against him and filled her womb with his energy signature, marking her as his.
No other man would touch her, and she would not mate with any other because her body craved the man who marked her and no one else. It was barbaric in nature and their society had outgrown the need, but something stirred deep inside his soul when she wasn’t able to voice her true feelings for him. He was overcome with a need to make her his and he acted without thinking it through. Now he had to face the consequences of his action.
She had no choice but to marry him, and at the moment she did have feelings for him, but he knew that would change if she felt forced into the marriage and he wanted his wife to want to be with him, not despise him which she would most likely do when she learned the truth.
Well, it was too late now, the deed had been done and they were connected sexually, even though she wasn’t aware of it.
Tristan walked over to her side of the bed and ran his hand over her pillow. Her essence was still present, and he pulled it into his hand and let it flow up his arm, then into his body. An urge to hold her, smell her, and touch her naked body filled his senses and his desire to make love to her clouded his rational thinking. He wanted to make love to her, not just have sex or satisfy his own needs. He wanted to please her, bring her to a heightened ecstasy so that she screamed his name in the heat of passion.
Yes, that’s what he truly wanted. He wanted Pagan to need him the same way he needed her. But that wasn’t possible now. He had to wait till her rite of passage before he could touch her in a sexual way. It was the law.
Her rite of passage, he created another problem Pagan was going to have to face without even realizing it. His mark wouldn’t allow her to spread her legs for any man to enter her except him. A member of the council performed the rite of passage, and if he weren’t the chosen one, she would be expected to lie on that altar to lose her maidenhead to the man that was. She would fight it and defend herself against the man without even understanding why.
What was he going to do? He needed to fix this, but how? The only thing on his mind was making love to her and his erection was living proof of that.
He had to satisfy his desire for her without her being physically present. For him that meant only one thing, he would reach out to her mind and make love to her in the realm of dreams. He hoped she would accept him that realm. He had to try.
“Well, I’d better get started. Otherwise, it’s going to be a long night for both of us.”
Yes, it would definitely be a long night. He knew that she was feeling his desire for her just like he was feeling her desire for him. The connection he had with her told him that. Her womb was calling to him and his loins ached to soothe her, fill her with his seed and his energy to satisfy that pulsation that he created there on purpose.
Tristan climbed into his massive bed and settled in on her side. He closed his eyes and began to take slow deep breaths in order to place his mind in the realm of dreams. He fell into it rather quickly and his mind instinctively reached out to her. He followed her call and soon found himself in her presence in the realm of dreams.
Pagan sighed softly in her sleep. She was barely aware of the white light that approached her in the distance. It didn’t frighten her. It felt familiar, like she knew what it was, or who it was. There was a masculine feel to it, and she instinctively reached out to it, wanting it near. As it came closer, a soft breeze brushed over her body. Her skin became sensitized by the touch of the air caressing her through her soft cotton gown.
Tristan, she called out his name.
Yes, princess, I’m here for you.
His face formed in her mind and his eyes held that hint of desire she had seen earlier. She reached for him and caressed his cheek. He was so close to her and for some reason she wanted him to be even closer than he already was.
I’m sorry for my reaction to you earlier. It’s just that Draken…
Shhh, princess. It’s okay, it’s over now. I know how you feel, and I felt your need for me to be here, so here I am.
He appeared in a mist of energy in full form. She felt the weight of his naked body on hers and she was hit with an urge to be one with him. It was a strange sensation that filled her womb, and the waves of desire stroked her inside till she trembled with a need to have him deep within.
Tristan, this is a dream, isn’t it?
Oh, yes, we are both in this dream and I want you, Pagan. I know you want me; your body tells me so by the way you are now trembling. But we must wait till your rite of passage before we can physically be together. Dreams, however, are a different matter.
Tristan lowered his head and gently grazed her lips with a sensual kiss. She moaned softly, as the passion in his kiss consumed her. He was being ever so gentle, sensual in his touch. His lips were driving her crazy with desire. This was a dream, a fantasy built around her desire for him. A secret passion she felt, but yet wasn’t ready to let him see except in her dreams. It all felt so real, like he was truly there, kissing her and she kissing him.
Tristan, she whispered.
Yes, princess?
He began to kiss her cheek, her nose, and then her lips again with such tenderness.
God, it felt good to have him do this to her. She never thought she would ever want a man, but here she was giving into a fantasy she created about the one man who had a way of endearing himself to her heart. No, she couldn’t allow him to do that. Too much sorrow, pain, he would leave her like everyone had done in her life. She had to stop this. But this was only a dream, it wasn’t real, was there harm in giving into a fantasy? Surely not…
Ohhhh! She squirmed beneath him, as he sucked lightly on the pulse line on her neck.
You like that?
Yes, I mean, no, I…
Oh, I think you do, princess.
He licked her neck, and then sucked with a little more pressure.
Ohhh. God!
You definitely like it, he chuckled.
Tristan claimed her lips with a passionate kiss. She laced her fingers in his raven strands and held his head in place, not wanting him to stop. She gave into the dream and let the sensual feeling that was stirring in her fill her entire being. She felt alive, stimulated, and sexual. For the first time in her life, she felt like a sexual creature, and she liked it.
Tristan ran his hands down her sides and gathered the thin fabric of her nightgown with his fingers. He gradually pulled it up above her waist, exposing her belly. She began to breathe deeply, as the anticipation of his next move caused her to move her hips beneath him. She wanted this. She wanted him.
Patience, princess.
He parted her thighs and settled between her legs. She could feel his erection that was crushed between them when he gave her his full weight once more. He began to move his hips and the tip of his manhood worked its way between her folds. She was wet and her slickness allowed his strokes to glide easily over her. She trembled with each pass he made over her hidden pearl that was enlarged because of what he was doing to her.
Tristan, please, I can’t take much more.
Tell me what you want. He groaned.
I want you.
He positioned his shaft at her opening. He thrust forward.
“Not now, Tristan, not tonight. I need her.” A man’s voice vibrated through his head.
Tristan sat up with a start to see a very tall man standing at the foot of his bed. He had a golden aura surrounding Him. His eyes were ice blue and He stared directly into his with the determination to get His point across. He was dressed like a hunter with His tan breeches and knee high leather boots and His chest was bare. He also was wearing a bow and quiver of arrows strapped to His back. He approached Tristan and His long dark blond hair shimmered in an unworldly way.
He came to stand at the side of the bed. “Nice try, Tristan, but you should know that her dreams will have to be shared with me and I will not have you interfering.”
“Who are you?” Tristan asked in a strained voice.
“Apollo.”
The deity disappeared in a golden flash of light that caused Tristan to shield his eyes from the intensity. He was stunned for a moment and his mind raced as to what had just happened. A Greek god had appeared out of the pages of myth and into reality. What the hell was going on? A panic seized his mind. He had to get to Pagan.
“Pagan!” He leaped out of his bed and haphazardly put on his clothes. Something wasn’t right about this. Myths just don’t become a reality unless they were real to begin with. And what did this have to do with Pagan?
He ran out of his room and charged down the stairs with determination to get to Pagan.
***
Tristan? Wait, where are you? She reached for him. Where did he go? Why did he just disappear like that?
Pagan, he is no longer here, I am. Concentrate on my voice, Pagan. Let the feeling that is stirring in your womb subside.
It was a woman’s voice, a soft but stern feminine voice. What kind of dream was this? She had created a fantasy about Tristan, and he left her in an instant to be replaced by a woman?
She must be going insane, why else would she be losing control of her subconscious mind. Her wanting Tristan must have been stimulated by the fact he had asked her to marry him. And now, a woman, who must be the voice of reason, was steering her away from the sexual desire she was feeling.
Thank you, lady, whoever you are.
You are welcome, though I can’t take all the credit. My brother was the one who pulled him out of your mind.
Your brother?
Okay, now things were starting to get freaky. Her subconscious had a brother. Maybe it was the wine her grandmother gave her with dinner? It was rather tasty and sweet, maybe two glasses were more than she was able to handle?
Look around you, Pagan. Concentrate on your surroundings. Tell me what you see.
Pagan glanced around her. To her surprise, she was standing in the middle of the woods. The trees were bare, and the ground looked cold, void of any grass. She clasped her arms instinctively to try to create warmth, but then soon realized she wasn’t cold. She was wearing a thing cotton gown outside in the middle of the woods and she wasn’t cold. She shook her head, hoping to wake herself up.
How did I get out here? Am I still dreaming?
Yes, you are. I brought you here.
Pagan looked in the direction the feminine voice was coming from. She opened her mouth in surprise at the figure standing next to a tree. She was slightly taller than she and had the most luminous white glow surrounding Her. Her chestnut hair framed Her face and fell past Her shoulders. Her eyes were light brown and held a slight golden sparkle deep within. She walked closer to Pagan and there was a tinkling sound with each step She took with Her calf high boots. That’s when she noticed the woman was wearing a cream-colored tunic that hung to Her knees and was gathered at Her waist with a thick gold band that had a stag embossed upon it.
Who are You?
My name is Artemis, and I am here to guide you toward your future. My brother will be here shortly, and we need to have you ready for him.
I don’t understand?
Here, let’s get you in something more conducive to your training.
Training?
Yes, I am going to start preparing you to defend yourself and a special someone who hasn’t been born yet. A deep masculine voice filled her ears.
A tall man with blond hair appeared out of nowhere to stand next to the woman who called herself Artemis. Pagan rubbed her forehead. Yes, she definitely had too much wine. She was dreaming of Greek gods, and They were here to train her for some unknown reason. Train for what?
Sooo, you must be…
Apollo. Artemis, why is she not dressed properly?
We were just getting to that.
Please, do continue. I am ready to get this started.
Apollo turned His back and Artemis stood in front of Pagan. Artemis lifted her gown off of her and placed over her head a tunic similar to the one the goddess wore. It clung to her body and for some reason felt natural to be wearing, like it was hers and had been for a long time. She touched the soft fabric. She had never felt anything like it before.
Apollo turned around and walked toward her. Artemis stepped aside, as He wrapped a soft leather belt around Pagan’s waist to hold the tunic in place.
You can leave us now, sister. I have it from here.
Artemis leaned into Pagan and whispered in her ear, Do as he says, Pagan. He will push you hard, but it is with good reason. Trust in us. Your mother had faith in me, and if you search your heart, you will find you do, too. The goddess stepped away and was gone in an instant.
Wait! I don’t understand, what kind of dream is this?
Pagan.
Pagan slowly turned to see Apollo standing a few feet away from her. His ice blue eyes were boring directly into hers, and she suddenly had the feeling this was not just a dream; there was more going on here than her mind could ever create. She took a defensive stance with her hands at her side. Her energy welled up and she readied to strike at a given moment.
Very good. You are beginning to understand why you are here all though, I do not advise you to throw an energy ball in my direction.
Why not?
Because you are not ready for that. And waging an unprovoked attack on a god is suicide for a mortal. And you, my dear, are still a mortal. I want you to defend yourself, but never against me. I am your god, and you are my priestess. You will do as I say without question and without hesitation.
And if I don’t?
Then your sister to be will be defenseless. I do not have time to find another protectress. You are her best hope.
You are mistaken, Apollo. I have no sister.
You will, I told you she hasn’t been born yet. Now, release your energy from your hands and let’s get started. I am going to teach you to be an accurate shot.
He picked up a bow that she hadn’t realized was next to the tree where Artemis had been standing.
Archery?
He gave her a sly smile. Am I not the archer god, the far shooting Apollo?
***
Tristan ran to the 2nd Ruling House with one thought in mind, to get to Pagan and find out what the hell was going on. He bolted up the outer steps and flung the main door open with such a force it banged against the wall.
“PAGAN!” He yelled as he entered the manor.
He ran to the stairs and ascended with lightning speed, calling her name, “PAGAN!”
“Good heavens, Tristan. What is the meaning of this?” Samson met him at the top of the stairs. “Are you trying to wake the whole household?”
“I have to get to Pagan.”
Tristan didn’t stop when Samson protested at his behavior. He didn’t care at the moment what the man thought. Pagan was his woman, and he wasn’t about to let a deity take her away from him.
He pushed open her door and went to stand beside her bed. She was lying there in a deep slumber; her body straight as an arrow and her breathing was even. He touched her cheek, and as he suspected, there was a golden light in her mind, the same light that was present when she needed to be healed, the same gold light that blinded him a short while ago.
Apollo was in Pagan’s mind.
“Damn! Apollo, what do you want with her? She is mine!”
Samson came into the room. He slowly walked over to Tristan and placed his hand on his shoulder. “What is it, Tristan? How did you know it was with her?”
“The what and the how isn’t important, it’s the why that concerns me.”
Tristan gathered his anger into an energy sphere and placed his hand across her forehead to push the deity out of her mind. He was met with a searing bolt of power that threw him back several feet from the bed to land on the floor. He shook his head to clear the fog that had been planted in his mind and he rose off the floor.
Apollo wasn’t going to allow him to be near her. All he could do was wait for her to wake up or for the deity to leave her dreams.
“Samson, I am exercising my right to stay with her.”
He walked over to the corner and dragged the large winged armchair to the side of her bed. He sat down and leaned over, placing his elbows on his knees. He clasped his hands and placed his forefingers to his lips. He had no choice but to wait this out. She seemed to be in no distress, and she also was in a state of good health, he could at least sense that through the aura that claimed her. But why was Apollo here in Aradia and why choose Pagan?
“Of course. Is there anything we can do to get that light out of her mind? Perhaps if we work together, we can get rid of it,” Samson said with concern in his voice.
“No. This is beyond anything anyone can do. All that is left to us is to wait.”
“Draken must be told. I’ll go get him.”
“No, Samson, I do not want him involved in this. She is my responsibility. I’ll deal with it. If I feel I need help, I’ll ask him myself.”
Samson sighed, “What is it you’re not telling me?”
“Good night, Samson.”
Samson shook his head and left him alone with Pagan. He had every right to be with her and that same right allowed him to dismiss her grandfather without giving him an answer. But apparently his betrothal right to Pagan was overruled when a deity was involved.
A deity, a Greek god was a reality and in Aradia, claiming Pagan as His. Why? Why stay silent for all these years and then suddenly make His presence known when Pagan arrived? It didn’t make sense.
He needed her. Apollo had said He needed Pagan, and that Tristan was going to have to share her dreams with Him. What did He need her for? That meant He was with her in her dreams.
Doing what? Surely He wasn’t making love to her? The mark he placed upon her wouldn’t allow her to mate with any man, but was a deity immune to a mortal’s mark? Her aura didn’t have an inkling of passion in it; in fact, it was more of a glowing white, as if she were protecting herself. But if she were frightened and defending herself, then wouldn’t she be thrashing around in the bed or making some kind of movement? She was still, perfectly still like a statue. No fear or anxiety was emanating from her body. He still had his connection with her, and he still felt her emotions, and right now she was feeling angry for some reason, frustrated, and tired. Why?
He sighed. “Come on, Apollo, release her.”
Tristan walked over to the fire and moved the log that was about to fall apart to ash and added a smaller one to blaze. He wanted her to be warm, it was the least he could do. He had been there for four hours, and Apollo still was in her mind. He felt helpless. There was nothing he could do to free her, and it frustrated him.
He flexed his fingers to try to release the tension that had built up in his body. He had to remain in control, keep his temper in check. It would do him no good to lash out. When she was free of the hold the deity had on her, he wanted to talk to her and find out what was going on and he needed to do it in a calm voice.
She stirred and turned over on her side. He was gone. Apollo was out of her mind. Tristan went to her side and placed his hands upon her arm. He rolled her over on her back and began to try to wake her up.
“Pagan? Wake up. Can you hear me?”
He shook her gently. “Please, Pagan. Open your eyes.”
She only sighed.
He spoke to her mind, hoping he could reach her on a subconscious level, Pagan, talk to me. What happened to you?
Please, Tristan. I’m so tired and my shoulder hurts. Can’t we talk tomorrow?
Your shoulder?
Tristan pushed aside the neckline of her nightgown and saw a small bruise had formed on her left shoulder. Where had that come from? He ran a finger over it, and she winced. He placed his palm over the spot and began to heal the soreness out of her shoulder. She relaxed a bit and the bruise slowly faded.
Sleep, Tristan, I need to sleep.
All right, princess. But I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right here when you wake up.
Tristan quickly undressed and climbed into the bed. She turned over on her side and he immediately pulled her into his body and spooned her close. He nuzzled his nose in her tight blonde ringlets and took in the scent of the oil she had used to fragrance her hair. She smelled of roses. She must have used the oil her grandmother had given her. It was her mother’s favorite. He remembered when he was a child that Fauna carried the scent of roses, she always smelled like the flower and he used to think she was garden fairy.
He traced a finger down Pagan’s arm. She was at peace in his arms. There were no more feelings of frustration and anger coming from her. She was asleep and he wanted to give her a safe environment to rest in. He pulled in the energy from the air and formed a tight sphere around them. It pulsated white and blocked out all noise to give her a quiet place to rest. He closed his eyes. She was finally in his arms where she belonged, and he wanted to keep it that way.
Pagan wiggled to find a more comfortable position and she found she could barely move. She gradually opened her eyes, and she blinked in amazement at what she was staring at, a bare chest that she knew belonged to Tristan. She gazed down the length of his body, lifted the blanket to continue her inspection and she found her suspicions were correct.
Tristan was completely naked, and to make matters worse, he had an erection. She pulled the blanket up to cover his enlarged manhood and tried to put distance between her and the part of his body that begged for attention. The more she pulled away, the more he pulled her closer to him. His leg was draped over hers and his arm across her body. He had her pinned in a position that demanded a closeness she wasn’t willing to experience at the moment.
The dream she had first created was of Tristan and the two of them intimately kissing. But, if that was a dream, then Apollo must have been a dream, and the hours of training she had experienced with the deity felt more real than this very moment. No, she thought, Apollo was real. No sane person would create a dream where they were forced to endure grueling archery training for hours on end for the pleasure of it.
She looked up at Tristan’s face. He was still asleep. Why was he here and why was he naked? Yes, he always slept nude, but he had said he respected her virginity and would never do anything inappropriate because she needed to go through a rite of passage first, whatever that was.
But here he was, uninvited and asleep in her bed with an erection. She touched her neck where he had suckled her skin in her dream. There was a slight tingling on the spot. How odd?
Tristan opened his eyes, and he had the most serious look of concern on his face.
“Tristan, why are you in my bed naked and with an erection?”
“Well, you are a beautiful woman, and I am a man. It’s a natural response to have, don’t you think? And how do you know I have an erection?”
“That’s not the answer I need to hear. Why are you in my bed?”
“I was concerned for you. Pagan, what happened in your dreams last night?”
Pagan lowered her eyes. She doubted he would believe she dreamt the god Apollo was teaching her how to shoot a bow and she didn’t think Apollo would want anyone to know. Something deep inside told her to keep Apollo’s training a secret.
“Why do you ask?”
“Anger and frustration, that’s why I ask. Your emotions are tied to mine because of the energy sharing I needed to do in order to keep you alive. Like it or not, we are connected in a way most people aren’t. Yes, you are an empath, and you can direct your emotions directly to someone, but what we share goes deeper than that. We are one; there is no other way to explain it. I’m sorry, Pagan, I did what I had to do, you were dying, and I made the decision to save you and by doing so I created a strong bond between us.”
“Bond? Is that the mind bond Betha spoke of?” she asked.
“Yes, it is. And you were calling to me last night, whether or not you were aware of it, and here I am.”
“So you just decided to get undressed and get in bed with me?”
“Yes, I wanted to keep you safe from what was in your mind. There was a gold light present and it wouldn’t allow me near you. I waited till He left then held you so you could sleep.”
“He?”
“Yes, He. What does Apollo want with you?”
He knew. Somehow Tristan knew Apollo was in her mind, but he didn’t know why. How? She didn’t think Aradians actually believed in the existence of a god other than their Maker, but Tristan was asking her about Apollo, as if he thought the god was real.
“Tristan, please, don’t ask me, I not at liberty to say. I hope you understand.”
He placed his hand around her chin and lifted her face so that she had no choice but to look in his eyes.
“Is He hurting you or forcing you to do anything against your will?”
“No. You have your Maker and I have my Apollo. Can we just leave it at that?”
He was her god; she had said the words without a second thought. In her heart she knew He was real, and she had just spent hours with Him in her dreams.
Tristan sighed, “It is naïve of me to think my Maker is the only deity that exists, and I will admit when Apollo appeared in my bedchamber, I was stunned to say the least, but He told me He needed you and that is what concerned me.”
“He appeared to you?” she asked amazed.
“Yes. Pagan, I’m worried about you.”
“Well, don’t be. I am safe with Apollo.”
A knock sounded on the door.
“Come,” Tristan responded as if he had a right to do so.
Slowly it opened and her grandmother peeped around the wooden door.
“I just wanted to see if Pagan was all right. Samson had told me about your coming so late, Tristan, and I, well, I wanted to see Pagan.”
“Come in, Lady Elizabeth. Pagan is awake.”
He removed the blanket and stood to pick up his clothes.
Pagan covered her eyes in embarrassment at her grandmother seeing Tristan that way.
“Why do you insist on showing your nakedness this way? She’s my grandmother, for god’s sake,” she snapped at him.
“Why are you the only one who seems to be concerned about my nakedness? Get up and be ready within the hour. It is a long ride to the clearing. We need to get started,” he said.
“The clearing?” She peeked between her fingers.
“Your priest, you still wish to see his grave, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes. Please, I do.”
“Then be ready.”
He pulled on his breeches and proceeded to get dressed without another word said.
“I apologize, Grandmother, for his lack of modesty.”
Elizabeth smiled. “No need. Besides, he doesn’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”
Tristan chuckled as he walked out the door.
“Come, Pagan, let’s get you ready for your trip.” Elizabeth took Pagan by the hand and led her to the wardrobe where she had hung the clothes Betha had loaned her.
Pagan walked down the stairs to the foyer. The house seemed quiet and only a few maids were about, cleaning and doing their chores. She heard voices coming from the drawing room and went in that direction to see who was there. Tristan was standing by the fireplace and his brother, Brailey, was looking out the window. They both turned to look at her, as she entered the room.
Tristan held out his hand to her and she walked over to him without thinking and took his offered hand. He laced his fingers between hers and warmth seeped from his hand into hers and traveled up her arm to eventually fill her entire body. This was the emotional bond he spoke of earlier. She was feeling what he felt for her, he wasn’t hiding it at all. He truly cared for her and that made her feel uneasy.
She had never been exposed to such feelings as deep as his and she didn’t want to. The idea of a man being that connected to her and feeling what she felt or even possibly knowing what was on her mind frightened her. She was vulnerable to him and went to him with just a gesture of his hand. She responded, as if there were no other option, and she didn’t like that.
Pagan pulled away from him and immediately sat on the sofa.
“Pagan, what’s the matter?” Tristan asked.
“Nothing. Is Brailey coming with us?”
“Yes, since you haven’t been through your rite of passage, a chaperone is needed.”
“Wait, let me see if I understand you correctly. I’m a virgin and because of that I can’t be alone with you on a trip, but yet you are allowed to sleep in my bed naked unattended here?”
“Yes,” Tristan and Brailey said in unison.
Pagan shook her head. “That makes absolutely no sense to me.”
“Well, once you and I go over the book of rules, it will,” Betha said as she entered the room. She walked over to Pagan and gave her a hug. “There is a lot you need to know.”
“Betha, are you coming, too?” Pagan asked surprised to see her new friend.
“Yes, she is and since we are all here, I suggest we get going.” Tristan reached down and guided Pagan to stand and he practically pushed her out into the foyer and out the door.
“Remember, Betha, she doesn’t know it is an arranged marriage, so don’t spill the beans.” Brailey shot her a warning glance.
“Don’t worry, I won’t say a word. But don’t you think she’s going to be mad when she finds out the whole family knew and she didn’t? I know I would be. What is he waiting for, anyway?”
“He wants her to say yes because she wants to, not because she has to.”
“He actually asked her to marry him? Oh, how romantic. Do you think Charles will ask me or will he just tell me after he signs the betrothal contract? I know asking isn’t the norm, but it is rather fanciful to think he’d do something so romantic.”
What makes you think Charles wants you for a wife?” Brailey asked.
Betha placed her hands on her hips. “Why wouldn’t he?”
“Maybe because you talk too much?” He stood behind her and scooted her out of the room. “Come on, little sister, our brother and his betrothed are waiting.”
Pagan watched, as Tristan mounted his stallion. He extended a hand for her to take. She looked around to see there were three horses and four riders. Brailey and Betha came out of the house, and each mounted a horse.
“Where is my horse?” she asked.
“Do you know how to ride?” Tristan asked.
“Well, no…”
“Then, you ride with me. Give me your hand and I’ll help you up.”
“Why can’t I ride with Betha?” she asked, not wanting to be so close to him.
“Because you are riding with me. Now, do you want to go or not?”
Pagan grunted and took his offered hand. He pulled her up to sit in front of him and he kicked his mount into a gallop.
“Why are you being so mean?” she asked.
“Why are you being so difficult?”
“I’m not being difficult.”
They were only on the road less than an hour and Pagan started to feel a soreness settle in her bottom. She tried to ignore it. She knew this was to be a long ride and she had never ridden a horse before, but she didn’t think being in a saddle would actually hurt. She sighed at her discomfort.
“Are you sore?” he asked.
“No.”
“Liar. We are connected, remember? I know your butt hurts. I’ll heal it once we get there. Unfortunately, we will be riding for another eight hours or so.”
“Like I’m going to allow you to touch my backside. In your dreams,” she said.
“Well, that can be arranged.”
She huffed at his implication. He was starting to be a little too arrogant for her taste. Why was he so mad at her? It’s not her fault Apollo wanted to train her, and that was what he was really mad about, Apollo. Their connection worked both ways. He was angry and jealous of the deity, and it didn’t have to be that way. After all, she hadn’t asked him to reveal any private things about his relationship with his Maker. So why should he feel he had a right to know about Apollo?
Right. There was that word again. It kept popping up where his actions were concerned. What right did he think he had to her?
They slowed their pace, as they made their way past the main village. The scenery changed and there were hills in the distance. They began to climb ever so slightly upward on the main road. A structure that looked familiar was to her left and it was magnificent in design. She looked back to see it went directly into the village they had just left. The arches were connected and were evenly spaced. It looked like a massive wall that stretched for miles and gave a sense of awe to behold.
“Tristan, is that what I think it is?”
“Depends on what you think?”
“A Roman aqueduct?”
An aqueduct, yes, but not Roman.”
She jabbed her elbow in his stomach. “You know what I mean.”
“We may be behind in our ways compared to your precious Earth, but we do have technologies to make life bearable here. Do you think the Romans were the only ones smart enough to have such a water system?”
“How does it work?” she asked.
He pointed ahead. “See those hills? There is a large water supply up there and we created a holding area for the water to gather, a dam so to speak, and the pipes connected to it allows the water to flow out of the lake and into the channels of the aqueduct. Gravity is the force that creates the water to flow.”
“How?”
“The channels are on the top of the arches and the arches were built at a sliding angle, the highest point at the hills and the lowest in the village. The arches were needed because of the dips in the valleys and the underground pipes were unable to be connected in certain spots.”
“Oh, that makes sense.”
“Didn’t they teach you that in school?”
“I never went to school. Esmeralda taught me at her hut. The other kids weren’t exactly friendly.”
“I can’t imagine why. You are so full of personality.” He laughed softly.
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Just stating the obvious, princess.”
“Well, if you dislike me so much, why did you ask me to marry you?”
“I did ask you and I’m waiting for you to give me an answer.”
“I can’t give you one.”
“Have it your way, princess, I’ll wait, but mind you, sooner or later you will say yes.”
Pagan didn’t know what to say to that. He was confident she was going to say yes. They had only known each other two weeks and already he expected her to be his wife. Was it because of the connection they had? It was possible, after all, how could he marry another woman when he felt everything she did, and he wouldn’t be able to have that close connection with his wife.
Then a thought entered her mind. If she said no, would he look for another woman to marry? Of course he would, after all, he was likely to marry someday, and if she refused him, then he had a right to ask someone else. Right. That damn word again. She had rights as well and as far as she was concerned, she had the right of first refusal, so as long as she didn’t give him an answer, he technically couldn’t ask another woman to marry him. But why should she care?
She realized she did care. She cared more than she wanted to admit, especially to him, and that little fact unnerved her to the point she wanted to flee, run, and hide away. That was what she knew how to do. Finding her way in the jungles of Mexico was a way of survival, to avoid all who wished to hurt her. But here in Aradia there was no place to hide or even a true reason to run. No one was chasing her. She had a home and a family and a man who wanted her to be his wife. All the things she never thought she would ever have were now a reality.
The ride had indeed been a long one. Tristan dismounted and offered to help her down. She glided down to the ground as gingerly as she possibly could.
He whispered in her ear, “You think you are sore now, wait till after the ten hour ride back tomorrow.” He gently rubbed her bottom. “The offer of a healing still stands.” He walked away and left her to think about his words.
“You just can’t wait to get your hands on my butt!”
Betha dismounted and stood next to her. “Not on my watch.”
“Come on, you two, it is late and I’m sure our host is waiting for us,” Tristan said as he walked toward the farmer’s house.
“Indeed. Greetings, Lord Tristan. So glad to see you again,” the farmer said.
“Pagan, you may not remember this man, he is John. He allowed us to stay here while I prepared you to travel home.” Tristan motioned to the older man.
“Lady Pagan, you look well. Looks like Lord Tristan did a proper job of healing you. I must say, I didn’t think you were going to make it. But he refused to let you die.”
“Thank you, John,” she said politely.
The farmer opened the door to his little house. “Please, do come in. I prepared the back room for your family. Are you hungry? I cooked a stew for you to eat.”
“Thank you, John. I’m sure my family will be more than ready to share a meal with you after our long ride.” Tristan turned to face Pagan. Are you coming, my dear?”
Pagan took one step, and it was the most awkward step she had ever taken in her life.
“Betha, will you heal my butt so your brother doesn’t have to?”
“Sure, Pagan. Here, let me help you.” Betha wrapped her arm around Pagan’s waist and aided her in walking into the house.
After they were inside, Brailey came to stand next to Tristan. “You really think she is going to say yes on her own?” He laughed and slapped Tristan on his back before he went inside.
“She’d better.” Tristan gathered the reins of the horses and led them to the stables around back.
The night went as Tristan thought it would. Brailey and Betha each had a small cot to sleep in and Tristan insisted Pagan sleep with him. She protested, but in the end, he won the argument and she huffed before planting her pretty little butt next to him. He had wrapped his arms around her, and she settled into her slumber.
And as he expected, Apollo entered her mind as soon as she fell into a deep sleep. He didn’t fight the deity for possession of Pagan this time, for he knew Apollo was stronger than him and he wanted to be close at hand. Tristan was relieved when Apollo didn’t send him flying across the room. As long as he held her in a caring manner, Apollo allowed him to be in her bed.
The next morning, she again had a slight bruise on her left shoulder and Betha healed it before Tristan could get a chance to. His sister was doing a damn good job of being one of her chaperones and it was starting to annoy him.
They had prepared the horses for the ride home and tied them to the nearest tree by the clearing. Pagan knelt at the grave of her departed friend and wept her sorrow upon the dirt that covered his body. Tristan stood behind her and Betha sat at her side to console her new friend. Brailey stood guard. Tristan had told him about the evil soul that attacked them, and he felt it was after Pagan. There was no guarantee there wasn’t another out there, waiting for an opportunity to do the same. The veil was close by, though he wasn’t sure where, and he didn’t want to take any chances of any uninvited guests. Brailey volunteered to be the lookout.
Betha stood to pour the sacred wine over the grave, as was Aradian custom, and proceeded to dig a hole with her hands to bury the container for the deceased. Pagan helped her and together they gave her priest a proper Aradian farewell. It was the first Aradian tradition Pagan participated in, and she did it without asking the meaning of the actions. It was a big step for her, one of many she was soon to take.
“Ladies, we have to go now,” Tristan said.
Pagan kissed her palm and with a shaking hand touched the dirt of his grave.
A loud screech was heard in the distance and Tristan whirled in the direction it came from.
“Tristan! Over there!” Brailey pointed in the direction of the dense copse of trees.
There was a mass of black and gray spheres hurling in their direction, and he knew exactly what it was. He grabbed Pagan by her arm and flung her into Betha’s arms.
“Take her to the horses, now!” Tristan demanded.
Betha pulled Pagan into the trees, and Pagan kept looking back to see what was going on.
He called to Brailey, “Brailey, there are too many of them, we need to get out of here!”
They ran to the women and Tristan untied the horses. Apollo appeared next to him, but out of sight of the others.
GET HER OUT OF HERE, TRISTAN, NOW! The deity screamed in Tristan’s mind.
Tristan hoisted Betha on her horse and Brailey mounted his. He was about to put Pagan on his when he noticed out of the corner of his eye Apollo was in the clearing, battling the dark masses. A woman appeared out of nowhere and began to hurl massive balls of energy at the dark spheres to have then disperse and attack the two again.
“I have to go to them! They need my help!” Pagan took off in the direction of the clearing and Tristan charged after her.
“No, Pagan! He told me to get you out of here and that’s exactly what I intend to do!”
He grabbed her by her waist and picked her up with force. She kicked and fought to get free, but he tightened his grip on her and carried her to Brailey.
“Get them as far away from here as you can. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
Brailey grabbed Pagan’s arm and hoisted her to sit in front of him. Tristan slapped his horse on the rump, and the steed reared up before running toward the main road.
“Tristan, no!” She screamed and was soon out of his sight.
Tristan built a white protective shield around him and ran to the clearing. He began throwing powerful energy balls at the dark masses and they would burst into tiny pieces before dissipating in thin air. Apollo stood to his right and the woman to his left. They formed a circle and were able to defend against the oncoming slew of negative energy.
Another group came out of the clearing and whisked past them, heading for the main road. A tall dark-haired man stepped out of a cloud and held up a gold shield that radiated a force that stretched for miles. Apollo ran and stood next to the man and so did the woman. They held out Their hands and pushed a bright light out of Their fingers to form a barrier around the black masses and held them captive within. A whirlpool formed in the center and all the negative beings were pulled in its powerful wind and were torn to shreds by the shear magnitude of the force. Within an instant, all were gone, and Apollo and His comrades released the light barrier.
Tristan walked over to Them, and no one said a word, as all three looked directly at him.
The dark-haired man threw the gold shield to Apollo.
“Here, a gift from Hephaestus to protect your precious brat.”
“She is not a brat, Ares,” the woman responded quickly.
“Still protective of her, Artemis, aren’t we?” Ares said with a hint of sarcasm.
“You need to have a little more respect for Pagan, Ares,” Apollo said.
“Don’t worry, Apollo, I’ll do my part in keeping her and your oracle alive. My troops will defend them with their lives, if need be.” Ares pointed to Tristan. “And you are either foolish or brave, I haven’t decided yet which.”
“Tristan, you will speak none of this to anyone, you understand?” Apollo gave him a warning glare.
“Apollo, not a word will leave my lips. Tell me, why did Pagan feel compelled to aid You in this fight?”
“It is in her soul to do so, even though she is not ready. But one day she will be. Remember, Tristan, do not interfere and she will one day be able to defend herself and others.”
Ares walked over to Tristan and whispered in his ear, “Does she cry a lot? Her mother sure did.”
“Ares, let him be, we must report to Father,” Artemis said.
“Bossy for a goddess, isn’t she?” Ares waved His hand and walked into the same mist He came from. Apollo and Artemis both looked back at Tristan before stepping into the mist, leaving Tristan alone in the clearing.