The streets were now silent, save for the faint licking of the river against its banks. Hal closed her eyes, inhaling the cooler, fresher airs of the night, her shirt still clinging to her arms, damp with sweat. The heat inside The Emperor had been intolerable.
She stole a glance at Meracad whose long, fawn-toned hair now hung free of her cap. The girl's cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone with a brightness Hal had never witnessed before. The evening had grown merrier as soon as Orla left the inn and Meracad had chatted, laughed and joked with the thieves as if they were old friends. With the heady, drink-fuelled atmosphere of The Emperor behind them, however, the conversation dried up. Hal fixed her gaze on the moonlit road ahead, not quite knowing where the night would lead.
"Perhaps we could...talk some more?"
She rejoiced inwardly at Meracad's words, but chose not to show it. "Have we not talked a great deal this evening?"
"Oh, you must know what I mean, Hal." Meracad stopped, reached out and laid an uncertain hand on the duellist's shoulder, her lips curling into a brief, wistful smile. "I never felt such freedom before this evening. But we were not alone."
Her words burrowed their way into Hal's mind, their implication plain. She felt naked, raw, alive to the night and all its temptations, aware of the throbbing of her own pulse and the pressure of Meracad's fingers against her arm. "Is it safe for you to be out so long?" she finally asked.
"I told you ─ they all think I'm asleep. I complained of a headache and went to bed. They'd never think to disturb me. They're as grateful for my father's absence as I am."
Denying herself the luxury of logic, Hal pulled Meracad close, suddenly aware of how violently the girl was trembling as she pressed her against her own body. "We can go back to my lodgings," she whispered.
"I must be back before dawn."
Nodding, she took Meracad's hand, leading her along a series of narrow side streets until they had reached the half-timbered hut which passed for her own quarters. She fished in her pocket for the key before pushing open the door and followed Meracad over the threshold into the one room she called home.
"Not as grand as a court apartment, but it serves me well enough. I'm only here to eat and sleep." Embarrassed, she laughed off the poorly-furnished chamber with its plain, whitewashed walls and bare floorboards.
Meracad turned around, surveying Hal's humble lodgings as if they were a grand reception room. "Who needs luxury when you have freedom?" she asked softly.
"You are right. Here, sit down." Hal gestured to the bench. "Perhaps I have some wine somewhere. I don't exactly do any entertaining here but Marc sometimes appears and then I have to appease him with alcohol."
"Appease him?"
"Unlike you, he doesn't appreciate my choice of accommodation. He believes I should have taken rooms at court."
Meracad smiled. "He must worry about you."
"Oh, he does. Too much." She reached beneath the bench and pulled out a flagon and wine glasses. "Here. This is also not to his palate, but then he does have rather expensive tastes."
Meracad took a sip. "It's fine country wine. Where did you get it?"
"Franc Hannac supplies me with a bottle from time to time." She sat down on the bench, their arms brushing. Silence descended on the little room, and Hal leant forward, resting her chin on her hands, her brow knotted as she struggled to make sense of the situation. She could still tell Meracad to go, to leave before it was too late. Her heart fluttered like a caged bird against her chest.
"You can walk away now if you like." She forced herself to turn around and face Meracad, noting the frustrated which entered the girl's eyes. "I wouldn't try to stop you. We could walk back together to your father's house and pretend that this never happened."
Meracad shook her head. With a gentle sigh of impatience, she placed her fingers to the collar of Hal's shirt, drew her close and kissed her. Hal sank into the kiss, tasting the alcohol on the girl's breath, pressing her own warm lips to Meracad's soft skin.
"I've made my choice," Meracad said at last. She tugged at her cap, her fair hair falling across Hal's face, releasing the smoky scents of spices and tobacco, of perspiration and her own fragrant warmth. Hal planted light kisses along the girl's slender cheek bones, upon her closed eyelids and her forehead: her lips drawn to Meracad's soft skin. She shivered, sensing Meracad draw open the lacing on the front of her shirt, nipping at her exposed neck and shoulders with light, delicate bites.
"Have you not, perhaps, done this before?" Hal whispered into her ear.
"Never. I swear."
"You must be a natural."
She rested her back against the bench, folding her arms behind her head, allowing Meracad to explore her body: curious fingers delving beneath the folds of her shirt, tracing maddening patterns along her collar bone. Meracad cupped Hal's breasts between delicate finger tips, briefly lingering on the hard sensitivity of her nipples, smiling when Hal let out a light yelp of pleasure. Her hands roved and drew lower, tugging at the hem of Hal's shirt. Hal allowed herself to be stripped, aware of the moonlight settling upon the contours of her half naked body, as Meracad brushed her lips across her breasts, across the scars of duelling, and over the taut muscles of her torso. Then, sliding from the bench, she knelt on the floor, fingers resting, teasing, encircling the inside of Hal's thighs.
"Should I?"
Hal could only nod in response, unable to speak as her belt was loosened and pulled from her waist. She raised her hips, allowing Meracad to peel her trousers away. Then she rose at last, her heart dancing on a string, an intense energy coursing through her veins, her excitement fuelling a curious sense of power. She pressed Meracad's head to her skin, gasping as the girl's hot breath flickered across her abdomen. Hands entwined her legs, creeping like ivy around her body, sweeping down across her stomach, between her thighs, first tentatively and then with greater confidence, greater force. Head thrown back, eyes half closed, half open to the moonlight, Hal nearly wept as Meracad kissed those places her hands had left untouched.
It was almost unbearable. She sank to her knees, seizing Meracad's hair and bringing the girl's face within an inch of her own, denying her the satisfaction of a kiss as she stared into her eyes. Then their lips came together again at last, as she pulled roughly at Meracad's clothes, dragging off her shirt and forcing her onto the floor, her teeth pulling lightly at the girl's pale, warm skin: at her neck, her throat and finally her breasts.
Meracad moaned, her breath catching in short, sharp intakes, goose bumps rising along her bare stomach and arms as Hal kissed and licked and nipped. Piece by piece the elements of her disguise were cast aside: boots and trousers, then undergarments, until she lay naked on the floor, eyes pleading as she gazed up at Hal who straddled her waist. With a brief, tight smile, the duellist lowered her head, trailing her lips between the furrow of Meracad's breasts, over the downy softness of her stomach, gently parting the girl's thighs before placing her tongue to the wet, musky heat between her legs. And when Meracad bucked and writhed, Hal reached up again to seize her wrists, holding her down as she brought her lover to the brink, only to release her again.
Meracad moaned in frustration. Smiling, Hal crawled her way across the floor until they were level once again. "Sshh," she breathed into Meracad's ear. "The walls are thin."
"Will you leave me unsatisfied?" Unchecked tears ran from the girl's eyes.
In response, Hal ran her palms along the subtle curves of Meracad's body, sensing her quiver and tremble as she slid inside, her fingers stroking, teasing and finally laying claim to the girl. Before Meracad could cry out, she stopped her mouth with her own.
Submitting to the kiss, Meracad seized Hal's arms, clinging to her as if she were drowning. Limbs twisted together, they lay upon the stone floor until suddenly, incapable of holding back, Hal called out into the night: a cry of ecstasy, of freedom, of utter abandonment. A beauty unfurled in her stomach, consuming her entire body. Beside her, Meracad shuddered, jerked and groaned, gripped by the same hard, wild thrill of pleasure. The shaking subsided, her breathing slowed, sweat clung like drops of resin to her forehead, and they clung together for what seemed like hours, unable to let go.
"I thought you said the walls were thin," Meracad whispered after some time.
Hal did not reply. She was choking back tears.
***
Dawn's grey light flickered over rooftops and chimneys as they made their way back to the merchants' district. At such an hour, the streets were mercifully quiet and still. Neither spoke, and they held hands tightly, as if letting go would be forever. That threat of such a loss now seemed to prowl alongside Hal like a restless animal waiting to pounce.
Léac's town house was not so grand as Marc's, yet its presence loomed, large and imposing above the other residences in the district. Hal strained her neck to peer over the high, sandstone reaches of the garden wall, but could make out only a dull, sloping roof and mullioned windows.
They turned a corner, reaching the join between wall and house and stopped.
"I'd better go now. I wouldn't want you to risk being seen near the house." Meracad cupped Hal's face between her palms, drawing her close. Their kiss was brief, but sweet.
"I understand. Will you be alright?"
"Of course." Still holding Hal's hands, she drew back. "I will find you again soon."
"You promise?"
"I do. How could I not?"
"So go, then." They kissed once more. "Be careful."
"You too." Meracad's face lit up in a sudden grin. "Watch how careful I can be!"
Turning to face the wall, she scanned it with a practised eye and then began to climb, fingers and feet seeking purchase amongst cracks and faults in the stonework. Hal found herself holding her breath, releasing it only when Meracad had reached the top of the wall, just a foot above her head. Then, with the poise of an imperial dancer, she paced along the top until she had reached the side of the house. Spinning around breathlessly, she dropped into a crouch and peered down at Hal. "Kiss me one last time," she whispered.
Hal clambered up to meet her, and their lips met in one last, passionate understanding. The duellist jumped back down into the road. With studied grace, Meracad climbed several feet up the wall of the house. Hal's stomach gave an uneasy lurch, and she chewed on her fingernails, releasing them only when she saw that Meracad had reached the sill of her bedroom window. Easing back the pane, she slid inside, waved to Hal, and then she was gone.
Hit by a sudden wave of exhaustion, Hal rested for a moment with her back to the wall, wiping away the film of sweat which had gathered across her cheeks and forehead. From a distant corner of the district came the faint rumble of cart wheels. The sight of her wandering, alone and dishevelled around the area at such an hour would only prompt unwelcome questions. And so, wearily, she headed back once more in the direction of Riverside, her head and heart bursting with love.