Naamah's Kiss (Moirin's Trilogy #1)

Naamah's Kiss (Moirin's Trilogy #1) Page 58

I said it aloud. "Bao."

The light in the cabin had grown dim. His eyes glittered. "Now you know. You ask why Master Lo seeks to join us together with his medicine. I don't know. Maybe he thinks you will hate me if you learn the truth first."

"No." I shook my head. "No, I don't think so. I think mayhap he knew you needed to speak of this, and I needed….." I flushed. "Well."

Bao laughed.

I smiled. "You walked away. How can I hate you for somewhat you didn't do? As for the rest….." I shrugged. "You did what you set out to do. You're not that person anymore." I thought a moment. "Did you ever hear the tale of the stolen D'Angeline prince?"

"No."

So I told him the story of Prince Imriel de la Courcel, who was stolen by slave-traders as a boy and subjected to unimaginable horrors in distant Drujan before being rescued by two of the realm's greatest heroes. I told him how Prince Imriel wrote openly in his memoirs of struggling to be a good person despite the memories that haunted him; and how he had grown up to become a great hero in his own right, saving Terre d'Ange from an insidious peril.

Bao listened intently. "I know some of that story," he said when I'd finished. "There was Ch'in women in that place. Drujan."

I'd forgotten. "Aye, that's one of the things that piqued Master Lo's curiosity about Terre d'Ange, wasn't it?"

"Uh-huh." He nodded, thoughtful.

I rubbed my eyes, fighting a yawn. It was late and I was tired; I had a vague memory of someone knocking politely on the door hours ago with an offer of dinner. Now it was almost pitch-black in the cabin.

"Sleep," Bao said immediately. "I'll go."

"Stay if you like," I offered.

He hesitated, then climbed out of bed and fumbled for his clothing. "No. You need to think about what I told you. I was not like the prince in your story, Moirin. What I did, I chose for myself. And what I chose to make of myself was nothing more than an ordinary thug."

"Not so ordinary," I said sleepily. "At least you were a prince of thugs. Bao, are you really afraid I have a destiny that's going to swallow you whole?"

"Uh-huh." An unexpected grin glinted in his shadowy face. "Only now I think maybe it's worth it."

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

In the bright light of day the next morning, both Bao and I were afflicted by the self-consciousness that can accompany a sudden shift from familiarity into intimacy. He flushed when I emerged from my cabin, busying himself with boiling a kettle of water on our small brazier. I watched his strong, sinewy hands as he poured the water for Master Lo's tea, remembering how good they'd felt on my breasts.

"Ah!" Master Lo sipped his tea with pleasure. "So?"

Bao and I glanced at one another. He cleared his throat. "Ah….. very tonic, Master."

"Very tonic," I agreed. "Master Lo….. why? You told me once that it was best to let go of desire."

"So I did." He regarded me. "I believe I underestimated its force in your nature. Your desire for Raphael de Mereliot led you into folly; and yet if I understand what I observed, your desire for Queen Jehanne led her to a greater peace and wisdom. It may be that the gods of Terre d'Ange have their own ways of guiding their children to harmony."

"All ways lead to the Way," I said, remembering what he'd said yesterday.

Master Lo inclined his head. "Even so."

"What about me?" Bao asked.

His mentor eyed him tranquilly. "It would have happened sooner or later, but you have a stubborn and contrary streak, my magpie. I thought you needed a push."

Bao gave him a skeptical look. "Hmm."

"Is anyone complaining?" Master Lo inquired. "Because the sounds I heard for many hours do not suggest a pair of healthy young people with anything to complain about."

This time, I flushed.

Bao grinned at me. "No," he said. "You?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Good." Master Lo blew on his tea and took another delicate sip. "Then let us practice the Five Styles. After yesterday's excesses, perhaps a little discipline and guidance would not go amiss after all."

It was hard to concentrate. I was too aware of my body, indolent with lingering pleasure after a long drought. I peeked under my lashes, studying Bao's calm face with its high, wide cheekbones, wondering again how it was I hadn't noticed he was beautiful. He could be so calm, so still, and yet there was somewhat wild and untamed at his core that appealed to me. I thought about what he'd told me last night. Of his own will, he had walked away from his former life and had chosen a path of humility, but it had done naught to diminish the fierce pride within him.

That, I thought, was very interesting.

"Moirin." Master Lo chided me with a word.

I closed my eyes.

After a moment, Master Lo sighed. "Bao."

I opened my eyes to see Bao contemplating me under half-closed eyelids.

"I fear I have unleashed the whirlwind," Master Lo said with rueful good humor. "Go. Enjoy one another. I shall paint, and we will attempt this again on the morrow."

If anything, it was better today. There wasn't the driving urgency that Master Lo's tonic had imparted, but I'd always had ardor to spare and Bao certainly wasn't lacking. With his acrobat's body and his disciplined will, he was a very, very good lover, as skilled and inventive as any D'Angeline.

"Who taught you Naamah's arts?" I asked him afterward, wondering if it would draw forth any further dark revelations.

"Married ladies." He smiled lazily at me. "Rich wives bored with their husbands. I make them feel dangerous and exciting. And I like knowing a lowly peasant-boy makes them squeal with pleasure."

"Charming," I commented.

"You asked." He shrugged and picked up the little crystal bottle beside my bed, toying idly with the stopper. "Like you said, I'm not that person anymore."

I sat up quickly and touched his hand. "Don't, please. It was a gift."

Bao set the bottle down carefully. "From the White Queen?" he asked. I nodded. "Do you miss her?"

"Aye," I said softly. "I suspect a part of me always will."

"What about him?"

"Raphael?" I shook my head. "No. No, what was between us went so bad. I don't know, mayhap it never was good. I try not to think about him. And when I do….." I shuddered, remembering the Circle, the spirit Focalor, Claire Fourcay's death, the subtle flicker of lightning I thought I'd glimpsed in Raphael's eyes when it was over. "There's a part of me fears it's not finished between us, Bao. Even though I'm halfway around the world from him. And whatever's left to be played out, it's going to be bad."

His face darkened. "I wanted to split his head open for what he did to you. I wish I had."

"You're jealous!"

"Maybe." He gave me one of his sidelong looks. "Of him, anyway."

I was curious. "Why not Jehanne?"

Bao laughed. "Might as well be jealous of the moon for shining as be jealous of that one," he offered in a philosophical tone. "No, Lion Mane, that was different. He had a gift. Even Master Lo thought so." He spread his hands, gazing at them. "Healing hands. It would have been enough for me. Not him, not after you came."

"I know." I laced my fingers with Bao's. "I like your hands."

"Fighter's hands."

"Lover's hands, too." I kissed his hardened palms. "Did you love any of them at least a little bit? Your rich wives?"

"No." He was silent a moment. "There was a girl, though. Not Lin. Another girl, when I was older. In Shuntian, a merchant's daughter. Her amah used to bring me messages. Once we met in secret. I climbed a wall into her family's garden. She swore she loved me. I thought I did. We made promises to one another." He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "Didn't happen. She married another merchant's son."

"You're a hopeless romantic!" The revelation delighted me. "Despite everything, you are! I'm sorry. But it's true, isn't it?"

He scowled. "I was."

I showered his face with kisses. "You still are. Are you in love with me?"

"No!" Bao held me off, laughing. "Not yet, you crazy witch-girl. Are you?"

"No," I admitted. "But I'm warming to the notion." A thought struck me. "Bao….. do you suppose Master Lo Feng has ever been in love?"

I thought he would say yes or no, but instead Bao looked thoughtful. "I don't know," he said at length. "Whether you believe it or not, Master Lo has been alive longer than anyone's memory. There is a rumor that he had a wife, once. And a rumor that he loved her very much." Both shoulders lifted and fell. "If it is true, he never speaks of it."

"Not even to his magpie?" I asked.

His hands slid up my arms, calluses making me shiver. "No," Bao whispered against my lips, kissing me. "Not even to his magpie."

I breathed in the scent of red-hot metal and kissed him in return, feeling a little dizzy. "Oh, well."

Bao shifted me expertly, pulling me atop him. "Want to try falling in love again?"

I wriggled. "Gods, yes!"

It was a long journey and our efforts were prodigious; and yet we spoke of love more in jest than not. Despite his teasing and his comfortable demeanor in the bedchamber, there was a part of Bao that remained guarded. I daresay the same was true of me. I was at ease in Bao's company in a way I hadn't been with anyone since Cillian; and yet the realization of that truth evoked sorrow. I'd loved Cillian, but not enough. And I'd scarce given myself a chance to grieve for him before flinging myself at Raphael de Mereliot, convinced he was my destiny.

Raphael…..

I'd been a useful tool to him, nothing more. It was true, and it was galling to acknowledge. He'd used my desire to his own ends. I'd let my yearning for destiny and his healing hands blind me to the truth. Raphael had never really cared for me, never wanted me. Only what I could do for him.

And then there was Jehanne. Against all odds, there was Jehanne, my unlikeliest of rescuers.

I daresay she was right; if I had stayed, matters between us would have changed sooner or later. She was fickle and vain and everything her critics claimed. And I wouldn't have been content forever with a seat at a banquet table where I was never more than a guest. In the end, it wouldn't have been enough.

And yet…..

It had ended too soon.

Betimes I watched the waves swell and break around the ship, bright foam sparkling on their crests, and thought of Jehanne. Tasting the salt-spray on my lips and wondering if she'd driven any chambermaids to tears since I left. Wondering at the tides ebbing and flowing in her body, wondering at the rising swell of her belly. Counting the days and weeks and months on my fingers and thinking, Not yet.

I wished I were there.

I'm here. I'd said that to her when she was frightened. And I'd meant it. I'd meant to stay as long as she needed me. Instead, I'd left her as she'd always known I would. Jehanne had forgiven me for it. She'd forgiven me before it happened. For all her foibles, despite the mercurial temperament that made me smile, she had a vast and passionate heart. And she had loved me. No matter what else happened, that would always be true.

I missed her.

So Bao and I danced and sparred and bedded one another, Master Lo's magpie and his witch, both of us nursing our bruised and scarred hearts.

We sailed through calm seas.

We rounded the tip of a continent and sailed through battering storms and rough seas, where I thought I might die. And when we did, when the ship the size of a city was dwarfed by the pitching waves it rode, its hull and ribs threatening to crack beneath the massive pressure, I was grateful for Bao's strong arms around my waist.

"What happens?" I gasped. "What happens to you if you die?"

He tightened his arms. "No one's dying today."

"But what?"

"Our spirits go to the city of Fengdu," Bao said in my ear. "Where the Yama Kings sit in judgment. First we are presented to the God of Places, who reviews a record of all our deeds. After forty-nine days, we are sent to the courts of the Yama Kings. Each of the Yama Kings judges our different sins and sentences us to punishment. For example, gossips and liars are sent to the Chamber of Ripping Tongues. Merchants who cheat their customers are forced to climb the Mountain of Knives with bare hands."

I shivered. "This isn't helping."

"You asked," he reminded me. "After we have suffered all our punishments, we go before the tenth Yama King, who is in charge of the Wheel of Souls. This Yama King decides what form we deserve in our next life, a prince or a beggar or a lowly animal. There we drink the Broth of Oblivion and fall from the Bridge of Pain into the River of Rebirth to begin our journey anew."

"Does it ever end?" I asked. "Must everyone suffer? Is there no place for mercy and forgiveness?"

"For some," Bao said. "Only a very few, who have led lives without sin. They go to paradise to feast with the gods." He shrugged. "Also there is the Maiden of Gentle Aspect. If a person's good deeds outweigh the bad, she may take him from the God of Places and lead him straight to the tenth Yama King to be reborn."

"No punishment?"

"No punishment," he confirmed. "I am not looking forward to the punishment. But I told you, no one is dying today."