Fort Squall
Tamara walked arm in arm with Sophie out to the field where the Touching Ceremony was held. They both cleaned up well, though she had little more than rags to present. Sophie, however, looked stunning in her burgundy gown.
She longed to tell Sophie about her encounter with Byron, what he'd made her do, how he'd tricked her. Since the kiss, her face had burned red without ceasing. Her mind continued to replay the moment. It was most confusing! How unfair for a silly kiss to affect her so, compromising her composure, consuming her mind, especially on an important day like today.
His act was shameless, brazen, far from discreet. Anyone could have rounded the corner and seen them. She shuddered to think of it. One thing was certain. He had no Rider. No Drengr would betray his mate with a kiss from another. That meant she would see him at the ceremony. The thought of facing him after such an intimate moment left her gritting her teeth.
"Amber, do you not agree?" Sophie pulled on her arm, recapturing her attention. She pushed Byron from her mind.
"I do apologize. What did you say?"
"I said, I hope Lara and Kiviana fail today. They deserve it."
She could only nod as they traipsed through the grass. It nipped at her ankles. Before them, the field stretched onward until it met the city walls of Squall's End.
A rush of wind rustled her hair. The sun briefly disappeared. Giant shadows danced along the ground. She turned her gaze skyward and gasped. Her surprise was echoed by others walking near them. Numerous Drengr circled above them, many with Riders and some without. They descended in lazy spirals, their wings outstretched, heading directly for the empty grassland.
Her stomach lurched into her throat, leaving her nauseous. She watched as they settled on the field. Those without Riders kept their form. The others became human and walked to the outskirts with their mates. She and Sophie stopped to witness the spectacle.
"I do not think I can do this, Sophie," she whispered, growing more nervous by the minute. Nearly twenty Drengr, statuesque in their hulking forms, waited for the Touching Ceremony to begin. Their different colors glinted in the sun. She saw several shades of blues and greens, a few reds, oranges, a purple, a bronze, and a white.
Pressure mounted within her chest. She took several deep breaths, trying to steady her thoughts. A terrifying realization nearly knocked the wind from her. In the next few minutes, her future would be decided. Just when she believed she had ultimate control over her life, just when she thought leaving Redport afforded her authority over her path, she discovered how wrong she was. Fate was the making of Riders, and no one was capable of commanding fate.
Sophie took her hand and squeezed. "You can do this, Amber. Breathe," she coaxed. "I am nervous too. But we will never know until we try. Remember? We must try!"
"We must," she whispered weakly.
"Come on." Sophie pulled her towards the assembling line. Everyone was silent. The very air was as tense as a taut string ready to snap. Several hopefuls were permitted forward into the large area where the Drengr sat waiting. They apprehensively stumbled towards those gathered, uncertain and fearful, just like her. With wide eyes, she stood motionless as she watched the event unfold.
The hopefuls walked from one Drengr to the next, stopping at each to lay a hand upon their scaly hides. It took about five minutes for the group of four to move through the field. Nothing happened. Realizing their failure, they left with tear-streaked faces, huddled within each other's arms, taking their sobs with them.
She glanced behind her. The line of terrified faces had grown. Many looked more frightened than she. That steadied her. Tamara of Redport was no coward. Squaring her shoulders, pretending she was unafraid, she ignored the mounting tension in her muscles, until a new uneasiness worked its way to her surface, not nearly as potent as her fear of failure, but still viable. One of the Drengr on the field was Byron, but which one? If she knew, she might avoid him. Unfortunately, she hadn't the vaguest idea what color his scales were. Her face burned hotter just thinking of him.
A joyous cry caught her attention. Sophie squeezed her hand. Out on the field, a Drengr transformed. It wasn't Byron. This one had black wavy hair cropped just above his ears. He was fondly stroking the hair of a woman who gazed adoringly into his eyes. The exultation upon their faces left her speechless.
"They are mates," Sophie breathed. "I can hardly believe it. Look how happy they are."
Cheers split the tense silence.
"All right, the four of you may proceed." The voice could have been leagues away. Caught up in the unfolding scene, she was dimly aware of Sophie's pull on her hand. When Sophie moved away from her, she snapped from her trance and found herself walking out onto the field. She was in a dream. Her legs had a mind of their own, taking her to the nearest Drengr. She wanted to turn and run, but she no longer had a say in the matter. Even the hand she extended was hardly familiar as some force within her took over. The Drengr she touched was deep purple in color, and majestic in every way.
She sucked in a breath. His glassy scales were incredibly warm, almost enough to burn her hand. She held her palm against him, feeling the hardness beneath her soft skin. The first moment was exhilarating. In truth, she wasn't sure what to expect. Only when his giant head swung around to regard her did she realize she was lingering longer than necessary. This one was not meant to be her mate. Disheartened, she nodded respectfully and moved away.
The next Drengr was a dark red with an underbelly that blended to orange. He was beautiful. More hesitantly this time, she laid her hand upon him. Like the rest, the Drengr was huge. She could only reach the mid-part of his belly where his scales changed color. He felt no different than the other. Extremely warm to the touch with scales of glass. Nothing happened. This time she did not need prompting. She withdrew, more discouraged than before.
Over and again she tried her luck, only to have the sinking feeling in her chest grow stronger. Midway through, a dark blue Drengr experienced a stomach rumble the instant she touched him. She gasped in surprise, thinking this was her moment. Then she remembered what Sophie said. Minds become one when a bond is unveiled. Her shoulders sagged with defeat and her throat constricted.
"You will not cry, Tamara Redwynn," she whispered, moving to the next Drengr.
There were two candidates left to try when she made her way to the far side of the field. There she approached a Drengr bigger than most. His scales were icy blue, just like her eyes. She regarded him with curiosity and he did the same, turning his saucer-sized eyes on her. They were a familiar gold, with black slits for pupils. Could it be?
She stopped beside him. He swiveled his giant neck around to see her better. The scrutiny made her breathing difficult. His head alone was as long as her body and as wide as her arm span.
She stood motionless, her hand hovering over his hide. Already she could feel the intense heat radiating from his scales. It warmed her skin. If she never touched him, she wouldn't face defeat. But if she did....
Turning her head, she met his calm gaze, losing herself within the gold of his eyes. There was no impatience there. He fostered no amusement witnessing her inner struggle. Sophie's words echoed in her mind, reminding her of what she needed to do. "We must try!" Sophie's voice coaxed. "We must try!" The words repeated. Sophie had been right. She would never know until she tried, and try she would!
Taking a deep breath, stretching her lungs until they burned, she brought her hand down upon the Drengr. The world fell away in an instant. The ground crumbled beneath her. Nothing existed, not even time. Her mind was wiped free of fear, free of apprehension, free of failure. Then bliss, powerful and penetrating, radiated through her being.
Recognition doused her senses, pouring over her like a bottle of perfume. Familiarity seeped into her soul, imprinting itself. It was the kind of familiarity that came from smelling a rose for the thousandth time, or looking upon a face she'd known her entire life. It was an immense understanding that originated from nowhere and everywhere all at once. She exhaled her large breath. It was unclear if her cry of jubilation was uttered within her mind, or without.
Flashing pictures that lasted for seconds, thoughts, memories, ideas, all trickled through her head simultaneously. They were unfamiliar, yet she knew them, these things she never experienced, faces she had never seen, wonders that were incomprehensible. They weren't hers, but they were hers, all at once. Two minds had become one.
A single existence swam into her consciousness. She knew this Drengr, she recognized his heart, she relished in his familiarity. He was a part of her. Everything she felt was echoed within him.
"I have found you at last."
Yelping with surprise, she withdrew her hand. The voice in her mind was Byron's. Opening her eyes, she no longer saw the icy blue Drengr, but Byron himself. Before she could express her astonishment, her excitement, her pleasure, he scooped her up into his arms, laughing joyously. He twirled her around until she was dizzy. When he at last set her down, she could scarcely stand.
Her ears were ringing from the deafening cheers of the crowd. She was hardly aware of it as she gazed at Byron's face in wonder. Two figures descended upon them. She recognized the fort leader and his mate.
"Father!" Byron cried. The two males hugged. "Can you believe it? It was her all along, she was the reason I felt so strangely!"
"Lord—Lord Davi is your father?" she squeaked, taking several astonished steps backwards. How did she miss the connection? They looked nearly identical.
Byron smiled down at her. "Lady Tamara, allow me to introduce my mother and father, Lord Davi and Lady Emmiline, Fort Squall's leaders."
She stammered a greeting, embarrassed by her ignorance, then curtsied.
Lord Davi's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. Is this the Lady Tamara? As in the missing lady who has everyone in an uproar?"
"The one and only." Byron's grin was smug.
His father did not take the news with the same complacency. "Her parents have been very worried, sending out search parties, offering a handsome reward for her rescue. Lord Rhal has done the same. I am told she is his betrothed?" Lord Davi looked at her for an answer. "Is that true, Lady Tamara?"
She glanced at Byron. His face had hardened with the mention of marriage. She wished she could still feel what he was thinking. For some strange reason, their minds were no longer connected. Why was that?
Turning to Lord Davi, she said, "Yes, my lord. Lord Rhal was my intended, but the match was made against my will."
"Matches usually are where politics are concerned," Emmy muttered, showing clear distaste for the practice.
"This could make things difficult," Davi said, though he did not seem entirely upset. She breathed a little easier.
"Match or not, Father, it is water under the bridge. She is my mate. The bond has been unveiled. I would not part with her for anything." Byron reached down and took her hand in his—a protective gesture. She felt tingles erupt on her skin. Her face heated, and she was forced to look away from him.
"We would never ask you to give up your mate, my dearest." Byron's mother stepped forward, placing a hand upon his arm to calm him. "It would be unthinkable. Fear not, your father will settle the matter." Emmy radiated happiness. "We are so very proud of you. So very proud."
"Thank you, Mother." He dropped Tamara's hand momentarily and took Emmy into his arms, hugging her affectionately. When he stepped away, Emmy looked wistful. It was the same look all mothers give when their sons grow up too fast.
Byron reclaimed her hand before addressing his father. "By your leave, I would like to speak with Lady Tamara alone." Reaching his free arm out to his father, they exchanged a Drengr's handshake, forearms grasped.
"Of course." Lord Davi turned to her. "Congratulations, Lady Tamara. It is a proud moment when a father can see his son happily mated. Finding that mate is the hardest part."
Emmy stepped forward, placing a hand on each side of Tamara's head before squeezing lovingly. "I am happy to have a daughter. Congratulations." She was soft spoken, but her words carried immense weight.
Tamara and Byron walked hand in hand back to the fort. At first, she said nothing out of sheer intimidation. The tingles shooting through her skin did not cease. It finally drove her to speak. "Is it always like this?" she breathed. "My skin sparks each time it touches yours."
Byron chuckled. "I feel it too." He rubbed his thumb against her knuckle and the sensation intensified, traveling up through her arm, taking root deep within her. A pleased growl purred within his chest. "In truth, I never expected it to be like this."
Her heart clenched. "How—how did you think it would be?"
"Honestly, there were no expectations. Finding a mate is different for every Drengr."
"What do you mean? You do not always feel tingles?" She wanted to know everything.
He laughed and shook his head. "Not always, Tamara. For some it is a pounding in the chest, for others, overwhelming sentiments of love, infatuation, compassion, adoration, anger. Certain Drengr feel it in touch, others in emotion, and some with drastic changes in their mood. Though different, we all experience one commonality when our mate exists in the world."
"What commonality is that?"
"An inexplicable change, a difference, something that offsets our norm." His words sent her imagination wild. Had Byron felt a mysterious change towards her? Had she towards him? Aside from her increasing drive to become a Rider, which drove her to run away, she could not discern any deviation.
"The feelings can be subtle at first, especially if you are young," he said. "You're younger than me, so you may not have felt anything before touching my skin. But I did."
"You...you knew?"
He shrugged. "I did not necessarily know it was you. But when I think on it, I felt something different since your birth. I was just a child, then. What I experienced was subtle. It was too early to associate it as a potential bond. Not until it grew."
She stopped and turned to him. "But—what did it feel like?"
"I can hardly say. I myself have trouble explaining it. Somehow I knew my Rider was out there." He waved an arm. "Somewhere out there waiting for me. That confidence grew. It radiated through me. And when I arrived in Redport, when we were closer than ever, I could almost sense your presence. Still, I did not make the association, nor recognize you when we met under the willow."
"Shouldn't a Drengr always know to interpret this strange deviation as fate?"
He shook his head. "The signs are not always accurate." They began walking again and approached the fort's walls. As they went, Byron explained in greater detail. Many Drengr perceived false signs, leading them to the incorrect belief they had found a mate, only to discover disappointment upon skin touching scale. They might find one whom they loved, take their feelings as a sign, only to fail.
"It is so very complicated," she said.
"Indeed. Complicated and unpredictable. It is important to remember, the beast and the human are two different beings. The human may feel one thing, the beast another, and interpretation becomes difficult. In the end, the beast chooses the mate. That is why skin must touch scale."
She recalled Sophie's words, the phrase she used, and the strange language when she spoke it. "Sophie told me that. She chanted something. I could never remember if I wanted to. But something about skin touching scale and two minds becoming one."
"Ah. I do not know this Sophie, but she must have been speaking of A Bond Unveiled. It is an old song."
"Oh."
"Would you like to hear it?"
"I...yes."
Byron broke into a chant.
A Drengr's mate, a thing of fate,
Is destined since creation.
To recognize, one must be wise,
Respect this poem's advice.
Heed thy heart and tune thy mind,
Prepare thy way and follow.
When skin touches scale, two minds become one,
The sacred bond is unveiled.
Do not falter, one must go further,
Guarantee what is foreordained for thee.
When flesh becomes one, the mind also follows,
Sealed is the bond that should be.
She listened with fascination. Each new phrase brought new questions. Before she could ask any, Byron continued his explanation. "Every story is different. My father told me that when he saw my mother for the first time, his heart warmed from the inside out, fierce like a fire, burning straight through him. Although we do not feel the true heat of flames."
They entered the portcullis of Fort Squall. Cool air from the stones washed over her as the summer's heat attempted to stifle the world. As they ascended a set of stairs, she breathed deeply, refreshed. The dark stairway spat them out along the battlements. There, they stood to watch the remaining Ceremony attendees gathered upon the field.
A new thought struck her. "Byron, earlier today when we met, did you know before the Ceremony that I was your mate?" She looked up at him.
His nostrils flared. She could tell that he was holding back laughter. "Will you be terribly angry with me if I admit that I did?"
She turned her attention back to the field. She could never be mad at him, not after what she felt when their minds had touched. She pretended to be upset though, pulling her hand from his. "That is why you tricked me. The kiss..." She placed her fingers against her lips, remembering the tingles as if they were still there.
Byron laughed in earnest. "Yes, a grand kiss it was. I would never ask such a favor from you unless I was certain you were mine."
"But how—how did you know with certainty? If what you felt for the last fifteen years left you unsure, what changed your mind? And—and why did you not tell me then?" All the nervous jitters, all the unnecessary anxiety, he could have saved her from it, he could have told her what he knew.
"I knew the moment I touched your skin. I realized in that instant as I moved the hair from your face that everything I felt, the mounting feelings of recognition growing over time, were entirely due to you. I knew. My heart knew..."
She looked up at him. He gazed out over the field, watching as everyone trickled back into the fort.
"I did not tell you because I can, at times, be selfish. I wanted to see what you were made of. I wanted to see how far I could push you."
She snorted. How ridiculous! She was made of sterner stuff than most ladies. Otherwise she would have never survived the road to the fort. "Did your father know? When he saw your mother? When his heart warmed him like fire."
Byron turned to her, taking her hand. It appeared that he did not like to be without it for long. "My father traveled halfway across Dragonwall to find my mother. Like me, he felt something strange. That feeling pulled him in the direction he needed to go. I am sure he had a hunch. But he did not truly discover the meaning of what he felt until he laid eyes upon her."
She pictured Davi and Emmy in their first meeting.
"Father was not as fortunate as me. His mate did not merely stumble into the fort like mine did." There was a certain smugness in his voice. And pride, too. He admired her undertaking, her ability to break free of the bonds that held her to Redport.
"I did not realize that he went in search of her," she mused, "that he had to find her."
"That is a common occurrence. Like I said, it is different for every Drengr. Fate has a way of uniting us. You happened to find your way here. Had you not, I would have come looking for you eventually. Though I fear it would have been too late." He pulled her from their vantage point so that they could walk along the wall.
"But I thought the Touching Ceremony was..."
"The Touching Ceremony is nothing more than a formality. Most Drengr do as my father did. Fate smiles upon me." They stopped again to look out over Squall's End.
"It is not too late, you know. Lord Rhal is a good man. To be the lady of Squall's End is a worthy charge. Stealing you away from him, which is how he may see it, will create tension between the fort and the governors. My father is right about the difficulty you have created."
"No! I would never go to Lord Rhal!" she cried, surprised by his suggestion. "Besides, if Lord Rhal is a good man, he will understand the importance of our bond."
Byron turned his tender gaze upon her, happy with her refusal. Perhaps he merely needed the affirmation. "I am sure you are right. Besides, he will have no choice in the matter. You are mine and I am yours."
They walked a little further in silence. She had countless questions, but she was also ashamed of how little she knew. To retain her dignity, some questions would have to wait. There was one that was burning her through like a hot knife. "Byron?"
"Hmm?"
"How come I cannot see into your mind anymore? When I pulled my hand away, our minds separated. And the poem, it said..." She tried to make sense of the last few lines of the poem.
"Only when our bond is sealed, will we be permanently of one mind, permanently mated."
"I had thought that was why I touched your scales." A scowl emerged upon her face.
He shook his head. "Skin touching scale merely allowed us to realize the bond, to unveil it. To seal it, we must..."
"We must, what?" Her scowl deepened.
He sighed. "I am going to take a wild guess that your womanhood is not yet upon you."
Her face burned. That was a private thing. She did not want to speak of it. Besides, what did it have to do with anything?
"Well?"
She chewed nervously at her lower lip and shook her head. The embarrassment she felt brought her gaze to the ground. The cobblestones along the ramparts were symmetrically placed with varying shades of gray.
"Tamara, look at me." When he squeezed her hand, she lifted her eyes to his, feeling the heat under her skin. "You need not feel discomfort around me. Not if you are to be my mate some day." Several painfully long moments passed quietly as he watched her. At last he spoke, "When you have reached womanhood, we will seal the bond."
"That could take ages! Besides, why should it matter?" She did not mean to sound impatient. But that's exactly how her words came out. She flushed.
He chuckled. "Believe me. It matters."
"But...why?!" She took her hand from his and crossed her arms. Why wouldn't he just explain it?
"I am going to assume you press me on the matter because you are...ignorant of the process." She watched him, waiting. "To seal the bond, to become mates, we must mate."
"Mate? Like..." Her eyes widened and the blood drained from her face. Realization dawned on her without the need for him to elaborate. But he did, and that made it worse.
"We must make love, Tamara. And I will not..." He sighed. "I will not engage in that until you are ready, until you are a woman. You are far too young. Remember, I may look a few years older than you, but we Drengr age extremely slowly. I am twenty-six and you, fifteen."
"Oh..." The words died on her lips. He looked no older than eighteen, at most, hardly a man. How silly she had been! How ignorant! Mortifyingly embarrassed by her stupidity, she turned from him and walked away.
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