The War of Queens

Chapter 23

Ishmael

 The celebrations by the godseye were much like all the other celebrations of the ashmen; drunk and lecherous.

 That was why he had taken to leaving the camp and crawling up the mountainsides. He could still hear the sound of their bawdy songs, but he did not dare to travel further away. Even though the ashmen called the lands surrounding the godseye the dead lands because there was no life, he had seen several small birds and even a few rat-like creatures - and where there were animals, there were also predators.

 He brought a candle with him and read his texts. Sometimes, he would pray, and sometimes, he would simply take the time to think.

 This was one of those times. He had been reading for some time when he saw Thyrdís making her way up the hillside. Her brown hair fell in waves around her face, only restricted by a wreath of white flowers. She smiled as she knelt beside him.

 “So, it’s tomorrow,” she said in a soft voice.

 He closed his book. “What?”

 Her laughter was as soft as her voice. “That you leave me.”

 “I wouldn’t have to if you went with me,” he pointed out, and the smile vanished from her face. He regretted his words immediately.

 She took hold of his hand. “Tell me what I would gain from that.”

 He looked at her questioningly, wondering what she wanted him to tell her. “I…” He furrowed. “I don’t know.”

 She leaned towards him. “Exactly.” A breeze freed a few hairs from behind her ears, and they waved before her eyes, moving so softly. With a brush of her fingers, she had them safely tugged behind her ears, and his eyes moved to the revealed bit of skin on her neck. “We could never… live together,” she continued, pulling his attention back to her. “Besides, I have only just met you. I don’t know if I’ll fall in love with you or you’ll be like all the others…”

 He furrowed. “All the others?”

 For a moment, she just sat there and stared at him, dumbfounded. Then a smile spread across her lips. “You thought I was a virgin?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I…”

 “It’s okay,” she told him, tugging her hair back once more. It almost immediately fell free. “It’s sweet, really.”

 His hand lifted of its own accord, pushing back the locks of hair. “There,” he said, but his voice sounded strange and dry.

 “Thank you,” she whispered.

 And then, her lips were touching his again, and he could not bring himself to end it. It was she who ended it, funnily enough, before settling beside him, looking down at the Valley of Ashes.

 He touched the flowers in her hair reverently. “Where did you find these?”

 “I made it while walking here,” she told him. “It’s so boring to walk, and it’s not much more interesting to talk to people.” Smiling, she looked at him. “After a while, you begin to realize that they don’t care what you say. They just want to hear themselves speak.”

 “That’s not true,” he told her.

 “Yes, it is.” She leaned closer to him. “But don’t worry, that’s not the worst part. The worst part is when you realize that you’re exactly the same.”

 “You’re in luck,” he said and lay down on the ground, shifting around until there weren’t to many sharp edges paining his back. “I like to hear you speak far better than I like hearing myself speak.”