Page 37 of Tristan
“Five hundred seventy-four!”
“The king and queen have lived a long time—the king comes upon his five thousandth birthday this year. Didn’t Corrik tell you?”
“We haven’t had much time for talking,” I mumble feeling foolish. I don’t know anything about my husband or his insanely large family. We’ve spent most of our time fucking or fighting.
Diekin waggles his eyes like Lucca used to. “I understand, youngWarlord. Ditira wouldn’t let me leave our bedchamber for a full moon cycle after our wedding.”
I ignore his inappropriate comments in favor of learning more. I wish I’d thought to ask Corrik some of these things. “How old are Corrik and his twin?” I’m not going to attempt her name yet.
“Two hundred—that’s when Elven women reach child-bearing age—but men don’t reach manhood until three hundred so you and Corrik must wait a bit longer to have a child.”
His words make my heart race. “Can Elven men have babies?”
He laughs hysterically—I don’t know what’s so funny. They’re the ones living till they’re older than rocks, my question isn’t that crazy. “Not to worry, young Warlord. No. Elven men cannot have babies—the only race I know of who can are the Dyela, and those men are half sea creature. No wait, there are also the Dominithia.”
That both relieves and intrigues me.Men who are half sea creature and can bear children
“If Corrik lets me, I’ll take you to meet them sometime. They’re a pleasant people, but no promises—I doubt Corrik will let you out of his sight for a long time. I wouldn’t either if you were mine, you are very attractive.”
I blush.Isn’t he married?
“You are easy to tease, Kathir.”
“I’m just not comfortable with sex.”
“You will be.”
“Why does everybody keep saying that?”
“We are all sexual beings, Kathir. Elves just choose to explore their sexuality openly.”
“My uncle said you are creatures,” I say, and swallow a little nervous, but not nervous like I am with Corrik. I already feel comfortable with Diekin. “Is this true?”
He thinks for a moment before answering. “In a way, I suppose. I guess that is how others would see us—like we have a creature that lives within us and is responsible for our urges.”
He looks up like he can hear something coming through theopening in the trees. Nothing is there for a moment then Corrik appears, sword still in hand. He sheathes it as he approaches—I don’t miss that it’s coated in blood.
“We were followed.”
“How could they follow us this far without our knowledge?”
“I don’t know,” Corrik says. “But they won’t be following us back.”
“We need to go. Tristan, you’re riding with me.”
I think about complaining, but when I see how dark my great Elf’s eyes are, I follow behind him without a word.
We ride at a pace I’d never have been able to keep on my own. My poor, tender arse aches and I hold steadfast to Corrik, afraid I’ll fall off. We’ve been riding at least six hours, like the wind’s chasing us and might swallow us whole if we slow. We’ve veered up to the North in relation to Markaytia and are headed into a region I’ve learned of in my studies but have never been to. Father never took me North. I’m excited to see what lies beyond this point.
Diekin’s been one of the men in our guard all this time, and he follows us closer now. The mood of our entourage is subdued, a stark contrast to the joy that beamed from them earlier. I still don’t know the details of what happened, Corrik threw me on his horse without a word.
One of the guards ahead of us signals for us to stop and it’s decided we’re to set up camp for the night. Corrik drags me to where his mother sits with his uncle, Diekin two steps behind.
“Stay with him, Diekin, while we check the area and then we can make fires for cooking.”
“I have a babysitter now? This is insulting, Corrik.” I cross my arms over my chest, trying to look menacing.
Corrik turns his body toward me, heated energy pours off him.He’s in no mood to have this argument, but I can’t take the secrecy any longer. I’m used to being one of the first told when anything suspect happens.
