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Subject: Camara, Lady of the Sword  Part 9/9
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Camara, Lady of the Sword - Heroic Fantasy

Book 1 - "Hope and a Prayer" - Chapter 9 / 9

Story #6
By Tom Bombadil  (c) Sep 1997

*********************************************************************

The previous portions of this story are found at this address:
    http://members.iglou.com/stbush/stories.html

The posting agent/editor will not email portions.  Please do not ask.

*********************************************************************

Disclaimer:  All the standard rules apply.  If you are offended
by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is
illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are
under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you
might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this
text from your computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions
described by me coming straight out of my imagination.  As a work of
fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities or
actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real events in
my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or
relatives.

You've been warned.

********************************************************************

About three sevendays later, Lady Camara, Lord Verran, and a small
retinue of her troops found themselves in a small village, one
on the road to Phaedron.  Rumour had it that several of the lords
in that great city were having some ... difficulties.  Troubles
of the kind that M'Lady's troops could help them with.  For certain
considerations, of course.

Sir William had resigned, with her blessings, to stay with Briana.
The young woman had pretty much come back to herself, her memory
mostly intact, but her emotional state was, at best, very fragile.
She needed a great deal of love and attention.  Having to share
herself between Camara and her true love did not help in the least.
M'Lady's memory of Briana's bittersweet joke, that this was the
third and last time she was going to come back because she was
getting tired of repeating the same old trick, brought a crooked
smile and a hint of tears to her face.  She shook her head to
clear it of those thoughts, and focused on the hamlet they were
passing through.

At the centre of that tiny village was an inn.  When M'Lady glanced
at the name on its sign, she simply had to stop there for the night,
even though it was just after midday and another inn, one that was
larger and better, could easily be reached that day.  She gave no
explanation for her decision, simply letting everyone know that she
had her own reasons.

Early that evening something unexpected happened.  A travelling
bard, a Techran no less, appeared and accepted the innkeeper's
invitation to play.  M'Lady, despite her best intentions, was lost
in her memories and missed much of what was going on around her,
including the arrival of the songmaster and the beginning of her
performance.  Only when the bard began the chords of a dirge, one
Camara had heard but once yet recognized immediately, did she look
up in shock, and in recognition.  A smile rolled across her face,
along with a look of playfulness, something that had been missing
for some time.

"Bard!" she yelled.  "Yes, you!  Bard!  I've heard that tale
before.  I'm in no mood for tears tonight.  Play something sweet
and wonderful instead!"

The entire room went silent.  Someone was interrupting a Techran
bard during her performance.  Even there, in that tiny hamlet in the
middle of nowhere, they knew it was not a good thing to do.  At
least, not if you wished to see another sunrise.  The bard looked
up in anger to see who was being so rude.  When her eyes locked onto
Camara's, off in the corner where she'd been hidden away, a smile
came to the woman's lips.

"And what would it be worth to you if I did?"

M'Lady, smiling back, answered with a laugh.  "Perhaps a glass of
wine?"

"Perhaps," replied the bard.  Suilain was already changing the tune
she was playing.  Gone were the sorrowful minor chords of the
dirge.  Instead, a light, playful melody danced about the room,
easing the tensions of those who thought a battle was about to
erupt.  The villager's conversation for days to come, and comments
and observations for months, would be about how someone had
interrupted a Techran, and how the bard never even blinked hard
about it.

The tune she played was a new one, the words unfamiliar to all.
Apparently, the woman was gracing their inn with a new piece.
That was another first, since new material was normally reserved
for kings and nobility for months, or even years, before being
played in places like that tiny village.  Even having a bard in
the inn, never mind a Techran, was a small novelty.

"The Maid in the Dell"

"She walked along the flowery path
Through the orchard grove
A song out from her lips did leap
Her heart now overflowed

The beauty of the day was hers
Voice clearer than a bell
Everything was bright and gay
Springtime in the dell

Her skin was smooth and flawless
Her eyes blue as the sky
Her radiant blond ponytail
Hung down below her thigh

She was a beautiful maiden
Young and full of life
Many of the village men
Wished her for a wife

All were hopeful suitors
Yet father turned them down
He didn't want his daughter
Wed to just any man

Deep within her heart of hearts
There was room for only one
Without any gift for her hand
He was the blacksmith's son

Heavy had been her heart that day
When her father first decreed
He'd only choose the man for her
Who could prove his love by deed

Pleas could not dissuade the lad
Nor love's impassioned cry
All or none was his last word
He would be hers or die

Long and painful was his trial
Always her love did inspire
Knowing that the perfect prize
Would gain him his heart's desire

Yester'eve was his final step
Something none could ever guess
Was that this young lad succeeded
And her father had said YES!"

Suilain joined them at their table afterwards for a final drink
before retiring.  Camara, Verran, and his latest conquest, Sarah,
greeted her warmly.  Conversation ended up being polite, but
strained.  An underlying current of tension kept all four on edge,
and caused Verran and his companion to leave fairly quickly.

Even when alone, M'Lady could not put voice to her true thoughts,
hiding behind stilted words and trite phrases.  Finally, sighing in
frustration, the bard excused herself for the night, claiming
weariness.  Camara surprised Suilain by smiling and initiating the
finger kiss they'd shared so many days before.  The same thrill, the
same tiny shocks of lightning, ran through M'Lady at the touch of
those lips on her finger.  The blonde's eyes opened in surprise and
she caught her breath as well.

With a shy grin, Suilain spoke.  "See you at breakfast?"

A feeling of disappointment briefly flashed through M'Lady.  It was
quickly replaced by her new pragmatic loneliness.  Her smile was
still genuine as she replied.  "Definitely.  Not too late, though.
We have some travelling to do tomorrow, and we usually get an
early start."

"Me too.  So I'll be up with the cock's crow.  Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Su."  Camara watched the woman as she walked across the
room and up the stairs.  Even wearing her robe and cloak, Suilain
walked with grace, poise, and power.  M'Lady thought she saw an
extra swagger, an extra swing of those hips and toss of her hair, as
she strode away.  Unanswered questions, some silent speculation, and
that provocatively swaying backside, convinced Camara that she
should try to follow up on her suspicions.

----------

That night, she dreamed.  She dreamed a dream she'd had a dozen
times since finding Ariel.  It ended, as the others had, with her
waking, shaking with emotion, bathed in a cold sweat.  Camara lay
awake, staring blankly at the ceiling for a long time before sleep
returned.

----------

Early the next morning, in the common room, while they were having
breakfast, M'Lady and Suilain had some further conversation.

"Su," said Camara, "I guess you'll be on your way this morning.
Where are you headed?"

"Well, actually, I'm on my way to Campek.  There's a new prince due
soon, and stories of the newborn heir will be all over the place.
The parties and fetes should be marvellous."

"Oh."  The look on M'Lady's face was one of studied unconcern.

"Of course," continued Suilain, "that all depends."

Camara looked up at the blonde woman, alerted by the sudden
teasing tone of voice she heard.  "Depends?"

"It depends on whether there's anything or anyone interesting
in this village.  If there is, I'll have to stick around, at least
for a few days.  Professional curiosity, you understand."

Only Lord Verran, who was watching with great interest, yet feigning
total disregard, was able to see the hidden look of happiness that
slowly crept into M'Lady's eyes.

"Oh?" asked Camara.  "And who, or what, would you consider
interesting enough to stick around for?"

----------

Late that evening, Camara and Suilain were sitting in M'Lady's
room, talking, enjoying the evening, and finishing off some
inexpensive wine (the best the inn had to offer).  Nothing overt
had been said by either.  Their conversation had been easy, though
polite, and stayed with interesting but common topics.  Neither was
feeling much pain, though the blonde was much farther along.  M'Lady
was sitting in a chair and Suilain was on the bed reclining against
some pillows.

"Su, Su, you gotta tell me.  C'mon, how come you wouldn't
practice with us today?  We all want to see what a Techran's like
in battle.  Well?"

Suilain's eyes were mostly closed.  She was staring at her glass,
which held but a sip.  Emptying it, then looking rather glumly at
their last bottle, which was also empty, she sighed and stretched
out.  "I tol' you."

"Hah!  You think I believed that, that load of horse droppings?
Don't wanna show off indeed.  C'mon already!"

Suilain waived her hand around, the one holding her empty glass.
"All right, all right."  She stared rather blearily in M'Lady's
direction.  Closing one eye seemed to help her focus better,
or possibly made it so there was only one person looking back.
"Y' promise not to tell?"

M'Lady leaned forward, straining to hear the younger woman's
increasingly mumbled words.  "Promise."

Leaning back into the pillows, she closed her eye.  "S'cause I'm
not much for fightin'.  No good at it yet."

"Can't fight?  You are Techran, right?"

"Mmhmm.  Jes' not much of a fighter.  But I, we, we got a repush, a
reputation to, to, ah, sumthin'"

There was no way Camara could suppress her smirk.  She was glad the
woman's eyes were closed.  "A Techran without teeth.  How'd you get
through the finals?"

Receiving no answer, M'Lady looked at her guest, who appeared to be
out cold.  Sighing, Camara went to try and carry Suilain to her own
room.  After nearly falling over just from standing up, she decided
to forgo that probably impossible politeness.  Sighing, she stripped
down to her silks and managed to climb into bed, with both of them
under the covers, after rolling the blonde's limp body back and
forth a few times.  Suilain's glass went onto the table.

There were strange thoughts and feelings running through M'Lady's
wine-addled mind as she stared at the sleeping face of the young
woman beside her.  There was a faint hint of Briana about her, but
it was only superficial, them having close to the same colour hair
and eyes.  Everything else was so different.  Where Briana was
short, hard cut, rapier thin and tough as old leather, Suilain was
a little taller and looked rounded, soft, and tender.  Both were
very attractive, but in totally different ways.

Camara touched the woman's cheek with her fingertips.  Liking what
she felt, her fingers began a tour of Suilain's face, ending by
tracing softly and slowly around her lips several times.  Losing
herself in the moment, M'Lady leaned over and gently, tenderly,
kissed the other woman, a feather light caress of lip on lip lasting
no more than a few seconds.  When she pulled back, she was surprised
to see Suilain's eyes half-open and looking at her.  The eyes were
bleary, a little bloodshot, and seemed a touch out of focus, but
there was definitely still some intelligence behind them.

Not knowing what to expect, Camara just stayed still, waiting for
some sort of a reaction.  What happened took her by surprise.
Suilain rolled into her, put one arm around M'Lady's waist, buried
her head in M'Lady's shoulder, and went to sleep.  Camara, well
beyond being able to think coherently, mentally shrugged her
shoulders and relaxed.  It was with the scent of Suilain's hair in
her nose and the warmth of the woman's breath on her neck that she
also entered the Dreamgiver's world.

----------

Early in the morning, a tickling sensation, located somewhere in the
back of her neck, woke M'Lady.  She turned to see what it was, and
ended up nose to nose with Suilain, who was just blinking herself
awake.  At first, there was only a slight awareness in the bard's
eyes, then dawning comprehension, and finally red-faced
embarrassment.

"Ah, um, good morning?" came the bard's rather hesitant greeting.

"Good morning.  Sleep well?"  M'Lady brought a hand up and lightly
brushed the woman's cheek with the back of one finger.

"I guess.  I think so.  And you?"

"Oh, it was a wonderful night's sleep.  Best I've had in a harpy's
age."  The two were still nose to nose and were speaking in not
much more than whispers.  Camara, feeling a closeness, a warm
tenderness, leaned forward for a brief kiss.  Before their lips
touched, Suilain stiffened and pulled back slightly.  That broke the
illusion of intimacy and togetherness M'Lady was experiencing in
her warm and fuzzy morning state.  She withdrew, the emptiness
inside returning in full measure.  Her stone faced mask descended,
hiding all.

"Camara, I ... well, I remember a kiss.  Did ... did anything else
happen?"  Suilain's expression was unreadable, mixing embarrassment
with several other emotions.

M'Lady got out of bed and began dressing.  She let the question hang
in the air for a moment or two.  "No.  Nothing else happened.  You
passed out, and I was in no shape to get you to your room, so we
ended up sleeping in the same bed.  That's it."

An almost silent sigh of relief escaped the bard's lips.  Camara,
upon hearing that noise, one which cut her deeper than a knife ever
could, stiffened for a second before she finished dressing.

"I'm glad.  I wouldn't want to m..."

"Don't bother to explain," interrupted Camara.  "I understand.  I'll
see you at lunch."  She missed the pained and anxious look in
Suilain's eyes.

"No, you don't understand.  I ..."  Her words broke off as she tried
to sit up.  "Oh, my head!" she moaned.  By the time the waves of
pain receded, she was alone.  Camara was heading for the common room
and a very light meal.  She knew Verran and her men would be waiting
there for her.

Throughout the day she was polite, yet unresponsive, to all but
her own troops.  Whenever Suilain tried to start a private
conversation, M'Lady excused herself, claiming other, more pressing
duties.  She also made it clear she would be leaving the next
morning.  That evening, during the bard's performance, Camara kept
to her room, having her meal delivered there by one of the tavern
maids.  She planned on an early evening and an earlier morning.
Filling in her time with minor chores, she was working on re-sewing
a section of her leather armour when Suilain walked in.

"We need to talk."  The bard was carrying a dusty bottle and two
glasses.

Camara shrugged, her face a blank mask.  She continued on with her
leatherwork.  "About what?"

The blonde snorted in reply, a rather wry half-grin showing how
inane she thought that question.  Opening the bottle, she filled
both glasses with a thick, semi-transparent, honey coloured liquid.
A rich scent of clover filled the air.  The glass handed to M'Lady
was much fuller than the one Suilain kept for herself.  "You have
some catching up to do."  She sat in the other chair, staring off
into the distance, saying nothing.  After a time, and a few sips of
the liquid, she began to hum a tune.  It was a soft, gentle melody,
one belonging to an old tragedy.

When M'Lady finally took her first sip, her eyes opened in surprise
and she stared at the bard.  "Seaborn brandy?  Here?  Where in
Tartarus did you find it?"  The only answer she received was a
slight lifting of one corner of the woman's mouth.  Suilain refilled
both of their glasses when hers was empty, and began to sing a long,
doleful tale, a bastardized version of Euripides' Bacchae.

By the time Camara was working on her third glass, she was lost in
the story.  In her lap, the leather, needle, and gut were
forgotten.  Suilain snuffed out all but one lamp.  Standing behind
M'Lady, she began a gentle exploration of her neck, shoulders and
face with no more than fingertips, gently kneading and massaging any
knots of tension found.  When the tragedy was finished, Camara was
fully relaxed and leaning her head back, exposing herself to
Suilain's gentle touch.

In the feeble yellow glow of the remaining lamp, Suilain whispered
to Camara.  "Tell me about this morning.  Tell me how you felt, what
you were thinking.  Why you turned away from me.  Why you will no
longer talk to me."

With a long, drawn-out sigh, M'Lady tried to get up.  Suilain's
hands, rubbing the warrior's temples, tightened and refused to allow
escape.  Camara spoke in a quiet, very controlled voice.  "I made a
mistake.  When I saw you there this morning, so close, so open, so
trusting, I imagined there was more than there was in truth.  Rather
than embarrass you further, I left."

Several moments passed as the bard continued her massage.  Speaking
quietly, almost as if to herself, Suilain replied.  "Close.  So
close to the truth, yet so far.  The truth obscured by a veil of
the unspoken.  Do you know why I was hesitant this morning?  Why I
was glad nothing happened?  Fear.  And uncertainty.  I've never been
with a woman before.  I've never been with anyone before.  What
happened last night and this morning frightened me, not knowing what
was happening, not knowing what to expect.  Not knowing if something
had happened.  I want to remember my first time.

"You frighten me, Camara.  I see so much emotion inside.  Your
passion, your desire, they burn so fierce and hot.  I'm drawn to you
like a moth to a flame, knowing what could happen.  If I get too
close, will I be consumed by the fires within you?  This morning,
looking into your eyes, I saw the heat waiting for me, and I was
scared.  You saw something else.  Your mistake was to leave before
we could talk.

"Standing here, right now, my heart is pounding, my stomach is
churning.  Part of me wants to run away, to hide from you, and from
what I feel.  Yet, I cannot.  When I'm with you, I feel things,
strange emotions I've never experienced before.  I want to be with
you, but I'm afraid.  I don't know what to do."

Other than a misting of her eyes, Camara showed no emotion
throughout Suilain's impassioned monologue.  Only when it was clear
she'd finished speaking did M'Lady take one of the bard's hands and
bring it to her lips.  "I thought you didn't want me, that you were
rejecting what I was offering.  I completely misunderstood."

This time when Camara stood, Suilain made no move to stop her.  Nor
did she resist when she was lead over to the bed and pulled down
beside the older woman.  There was a moment where neither said or
did anything, then M'Lady turned the bard's head so they were eye
to eye.  Camara enjoyed the feel of the other woman's face and hair
again, this time being able to see the effect her touch had.

"Are you sure about this, Su?"

With a laugh and a bit of a smile, she replied.  "No.  How can I be
sure?  I've never done this before.  But I need to try, to learn.
I want to be with you."

Camara also smiled a bit at her words, then leaned in for a kiss.
She stopped when Suilain stiffened, but she didn't pull back.
M'Lady waited, expectantly, while the bard gathered herself before
tentatively moving forward for a brief touch of lips on lips.
Suilain leaned away, looking into M'Lady's eyes, and reached
up to touch M'Lady's lips with her fingertips.  The bard's mouth
curved up into a small smile and she leaned forward to share a
much longer kiss.  Camara liked the feel and taste of those lips.
They were soft and sweet, still tasting somewhat of the brandy
they'd shared, and they trembled slightly.

Both paused for a few seconds when that kiss broke, needing time to
recover their breath and their composure.

"I ... I don't know if ..."

"It's all right.  We have all the time in the world."  Camara was
whispering to the hesitation and uncertainty she saw.  "Just stay
with me tonight, keep me company."

Suilain's reply was a brief touch of lips to cheek, as she stood and
began to undress.  M'Lady watched the woman remove her boots, robe,
blouse, and skirt, then watched as she wiggled her way under the
bedding wearing nothing but her shift.

"It is bedtime, isn't it?" was the woman's answer to M'Lady's
unspoken question.

Camara prepared for sleep as well, locking the door, stripping down
to her silks, laying out her weapons for quick retrieval, and
dousing the lamp before sliding in beside the bard.

Because of the darkness, it was difficult for her to see Suilain's
face, never mind her expression, so M'Lady reached over to touch,
to feel the woman, to make sure this was no illusion brought on by
her own lust-and-spirits-fogged mind.  That touch triggered a small
gasp.  The bard moved closer, sliding one hand around Camara's
waist, inviting M'Lady's embrace, an invitation which was quickly
accepted.

They lay there for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, nose to
nose, face to face, warm bodies pulled together.  Lady Camara
watched the woman's eyes, visible at that short distance, as they
looked back into her own.  Suilain was relaxing slowly, the tension
leaving and being replaced by the open, trusting visage familiar
from early that morning.  M'Lady smiled, and again brushed the
woman's cheek with the back of one finger.  This time there was no
hesitation as their lips met, each gently touching and tasting the
other.  When they finally broke apart, M'Lady saw a sweet, shy smile
on the bard's lips, and a warmth in her eyes.  That look brought a
warm glow to her own heart.  Her god's words again echoed silently,
and she briefly wondered if Suilain was the one, then promptly
dropped that thought, deciding there was no way she could ever know
for certain.

For most of an hour they lay like that, exploring each other's
faces, watching each other's expressions, touching, briefly kissing,
and each getting used to the other's presence.  The evening ended
when Suilain wiggled a little closer, tucked her head into M'Lady's
shoulder, and went to sleep.  Camara smiled at the now familiar
scent and feel of the woman dreaming in her arms, and her eyes
again softened.  Whether or not the bard was the one hinted at by
her god didn't matter to M'Lady.  Having a warm, caring person in
her arms, after such a long time, was enough.  For her, for the
moment, it was enough.  After a brief, more than tender kiss to the
top of Suilain's head, Camara also relaxed into sleep.

----------

That night, the dream returned.  She awoke with a yell, sitting
upright, bathed in sweat, with Suilain holding her arm and shouting
for her to wake up.

"I'm awake!  I'm ... awake."  Camara's heart slowed, her breathing
evened out, and she came back to herself.

"What happened?  What's going on?"

"I - I had a dream."

"A dream?  You look like you just finished a workout!  Is this
normal?  Are your nights haunted by nightmares all the time?"

"No, and no.  It's nothing.  Just something that started recently.
I'm fine now."

"Are you sure?  Want to tell me about it?"  The bard's expression
was one of worry mixed with interest.

"No, Su.  Everything's all right now.  Go back to sleep."

After giving Camara a long, hard look, she lay back down.  Those
blue eyes continued watching for some time before closing.

----------

In the cold light of dawn, and the uncertainty of a sober mind,
Camara was seated in a chair, staring at her companion, who was
nestled within the bedding.  The previous evening was remembered
as much as a dream as reality.  She had to ask, had to know the
answers to her questions.  Simple acceptance was not enough for
her this time.

"Su, why are you here with me?"

>From the bed, a rather long sigh was heard.  "You are asking a very
hard question.  I don't think I know the complete answer yet.  Do
you remember what I said last night?"

"Yes."

"I'll start there, then.  I'm attracted to Camara, the legend, the
woman in the stories.  I've heard them all, and more.  She
fascinates me, personally and professionally.  The tales of the
terrible things you've done, the carnage, looting, death and
destruction, I know are exaggerated, but they have their roots in
truth.  They frighten me.  I've also heard the newer rumors, of how
you have changed, how you no longer slaughter people on a whim, or
for the feeblest of reasons, of how you have actually started
helping some people.  That intrigues me to no end."

"So, you're here because of the tales?"

"That's why I'm still at this inn right now, not why I'm here in
this bed."

"Then, why?"

There was a moment of silence before Suilain answered.

"You know I'm a Techran, and a very young one."

Receiving a nod, she continued.

"I've only been out of training for a few months, but in that time,
I've nearly been killed twice.  Without dumb luck, and even dumber
thieves, I would be nothing but a corpse right now.  I need a
sponsor, a protector, someone to help me learn about the real world,
and how to survive in it.  The problem is, I would die inside if I
had to stay cooped up in a castle, or even a town, for more than a
few moons.  That would be worse than a knife in the heart."

"So you thought to come along with me.  Is that why you are here?"

"No.  If that were all, I would simply have asked to join your
band.  I think the Techran reputation would have secured me a
position long enough to learn how to survive, at least."

"You're probably right, but you still haven't answered my
question."

"I had to get all the rest out of the way first, otherwise you
wouldn't believe what I have to say.  You remember the night we
first met in Gedron?  We sat and talked for a while with your other
friend, Trieste.  I don't remember much of her from that evening,
other than that she was mostly quiet.  But you ..."

The bard took a deep breath before continuing.

"I don't know what happened that night.  You affected me like nobody
else I have ever met.  The intensity of it shook me to my core.  I
didn't know what it was, so I ran that night - from the inn, from
the city, from you, but mostly from myself.  Ever since, your face,
your smile, your eyes, have haunted my days and nights.  Yet, you
are still *Camara*.  You have turned down kings before.  You are so
far beyond the dreams of a simple village girl, I thought them
hopeless.  The last thing I expected was to find you here, in this
place, in this tiny town, in the middle of nowhere."

"If I frightened you so much, how did you end up here with me?"

"Hope.  You smiled at me.  You invited me to your table.  You stayed
here in town to be with me.  You invited me to your room.  Besides,
if I am to be haunted by you for the rest of my life, without any
possibility of being with you, then I might as well know now as
later.  It would be easier to kill my feelings."

"Then ... you are in my bed because your dreams have been haunted?"

"No.  I'm here because there is no place else in the world I would
rather be.  I'm here because you are here."

The two women stared at each other for a moment.  Suilain's face
was a study in openness, with fear and hope fighting for dominance.
There was nothing to read in Camara's eyes.  She wore her stoneface
mask.

"Well?" asked Suilain, sounding rather tense.  "Are you going to
laugh at me now?  Or are you going to call me a ridiculous young
girl and kick me out?"

Another long silence followed.  M'Lady said nothing, and no emotion
of any kind showed on her face.

"Say something!" Suilain practically screamed.  A few tears ran down
her cheeks.

Slowly the dark-haired woman stood, then walked over and sat on the
bed.  With one hand, she brushed away the drops of moisture that
were collecting under the other woman's chin, then followed their
trail back up to her cheek.  There was still no change to her
expression as she began to speak.

"I haven't had much luck with lovers, especially lately.  Three of
the last five have died, one horribly.  Not too long ago, I almost
gave up.  Hope, I was told.  Hope.  You also mentioned hope.
Without hope, my spirit would be on the other side right now.

Camara stood and gathered her scattered thoughts before continuing.

"I don't know if there is much left within me any more.  I can still
care, and still need.  Little else remains right now.  Maybe too
little.  The passion you see is a mix of desperation and longing.
Those are still possible.

Am I going to laugh at you?  Call you foolish?  How can I?  In the
past, I've done far more, and for far less reason, than you have in
the last few days."

Once again M'Lady sat in the chair.

"No one knows what will come, but have no doubt that my path is
steep and rocky, and may be short.  Hope.  You say that's why you
are here.  For two mornings straight, you've woken up in my bed.
That's two mornings more than my last lover did in the months we
were together.  If I didn't want you, desire you, and feel something
real for you, that would never have happened.  The question is, what
now?  Will you be coming with me?  Because if you do, most likely
your life will be short and painful."

Suilain stared back for a moment before answering.

"I would like to.  If you are offering what I think you are, then
nothing would make me happier.  You do want me to come, don't you?"
At Camara's uneven smile and tight nod, her face brightened.  "Then
of *course* I'll be going with you.  As Astergoth stated, 'Whither
thou goest, so do I follow, whether thou travel to the next village
or to the ends of the earth'.  Besides, if a long, boring life was
important to me, I'd be a farmer's wife.  Now come over here.
*Our* bed is getting cold."

It was with tears streaming down her face that M'Lady joined Suilain
again.  Their kiss was fierce and hot, and would probably have led
to much more, had not Verran chosen that moment to knock on the
door.  It was time for them to leave.  He probably never knew how
close to death he was at that moment.

----------

Five days later, M'Lady and her small retinue were settled for the
night in another inn a half day's travel short of Phaedron.  They
had a full day to wait while her followers set themselves up in a
wood not too far from the city, so she and Suilain were spending
the evening in Camara's room, drinking some of the fine wine the
bard had miraculously acquired.

They drank, and talked, and drank, and sang, and drank, and told
tall tales, and drank.

Finally, M'Lady's body and mind began to succumb to the volume of
wine she'd consumed and to the appetite she'd been ignoring.
Despite advances by several nobles, a couple of warriors, and one
cook, she had been celibate since the night she learned of
Bracchus.  Suilain was still an unknown to her, professedly a true
virgin, and they had shared little more than hot kisses and steamy
caresses to that point.  Camara was willing to wait for more,
willing to give the bard as much time as she needed to be sure of
what she wanted.  The words of her god played through her mind, over
and over again.

The spirits she'd consumed depressed her, the need she felt
depressed her, the betrayal of Bracchus depressed her, and her own
aching loneliness depressed her.  Talking things over with Verran,
while helping, didn't do much for her, since he often had difficulty
relating to womanly emotions.  Sometimes he had difficulty relating
to human emotions, period.  She needed a sympathetic ear, and
Suilain was willing.  All her frustrations and broken dreams spilled
forth in a torrent of words and tears.  The young woman listened
with an open mind and an open heart, and used all the appropriate
soothing words and phrases, while Camara sobbed on about the lost
loves of her life.

She had heard all of the early stories about the woman, but those
had dealt with her prowess as a fighter, her skills as a commander,
and the terrible and wonderful things she'd done.  Some of the
cathouse whisperings included her lewd tastes, her debaucheries, and
a list of those she'd bedded.  Of course, most was pure fabrication,
but there had always been enough hints of truth to them that Suilain
couldn't dismiss all those rumours out of hand.

Now she was learning of the woman behind the legends, and found she
was liking this person a great deal.  That there was much she wasn't
being told was obvious.  Suilain lay on the bed, head resting on
Camara's shoulder.  The warrior was stroking her hair as she spoke,
staring off into an invisible distance, seemingly oblivious as to
whether her audience was paying attention or not.

She told the bard about several of her past loves.  Of all those
she'd been close to through the years, only a few had ever been
enough to make her truly happy.

One was Briana, the knifer, the bright and cheerful child, wild and
unruly, with a flair for the dramatic and a true disregard for
propriety.  The year she'd spent with the woman had been wonderful,
but bittersweet.  Briana often said she liked, admired, and needed
Camara, but never admitted to love, something M'Lady felt soon after
they started travelling together.  The loss of her love to Sir
William had only emphasized the emptiness in her life.

Another was Lord Verran, the friend, the companion, the immortal
one, never truly intimate, yet privy to all her innermost fears and
dreams.  If he had ever consented to be her love, she would have
gladly married him despite all the problems they would have had.
He said it would never happen.  He had watched one wife grow old
and die before his eyes, and had sworn he would never go through
that again.

Two others were Collena and Drisolm, the teacher and the lover.
Other than her parents (and Verran, of course), Collena was the only
older person she'd ever loved.  Ten years her senior, mother of two,
she ran her family's vineyards and winery.  Her children were just
getting to like having Camara around and had started calling her
Auntie K when the slavers came.  Collena fought them to her doom.
Her children, when their fates were certain, killed themselves.
Camara blamed herself for their deaths, cursing herself for not
being there when they needed her the most.  Her revenge was
terrible, but did nothing to ease the pain of her loss.

Drisolm, the blacksmith, welcomed her into his home after she'd
been wounded in a fight.  M'Lady stayed with him for ten days.  Two
months later she returned, and stayed with him as his wife until a
horse kicked him in the head.  Despite healers and priests, he died
four days later.  She was widowed after seven months of bliss.

Camara didn't stop talking, even after she knew Suilain had fallen
asleep, simply because it felt good to empty herself of the bitter
memories.  Her litany became more open, and she watched her past
unfold from the perspective of years gone by.  No more tears were
falling, but the opening of old wounds continued to be a difficult
catharsis.

The memory of Lysande came forth, painful in it's intensity.  M'Lady
had chased the spellcaster across three kingdoms, as part of a
commission, before completing the capture.  They talked constantly
on the return trip.  After handing over the prisoner to her employer
and learning of his plans, M'Lady engineered a daring escape/rescue.
Lysande then followed Camara across those same three kingdoms, but
for a very different reason.  M'Lady was captured, without force,
without ropes or chains, and without magic.  Her bonds were those of
the heart.

Watching what followed, of being helpless to prevent the abduction,
of not knowing Lysande's fate, finally overwhelmed Camara.  No more
words flowed.  No more sobs, no more tears.  As silent and still as
a corpse she lay there, staring off into the netherworld, looking
for answers that had forever hidden themselves away.

Her last thoughts that evening were on why she was really headed
for Phaedron.  It was a first step on finding the other three.  The
trail was very cold, closer to two decades old than to one, but
Camara knew she could never have peace without knowing their fates.
The pact she'd forgotten about was again as fresh as the day she'd
sworn it.

( The bard:

Thus ends one story of Lady Camara, hero, and master of the sword.
<Yawn>  So, are any disappointed with this, the first tale of
her exploits?  I thought not.  And note, not a single one of you
left or fell asleep.  Perhaps I am nearly as good as my reputation
says.  No matter.  It is late, and time to ...

Did they?  Well, perhaps.  That would be another tale though, and
this night is far too old for more.  Yes, there is another tale that
continues where this leaves off.  In Camara's stories, since they
are the true tales of her life, rare were the moments that someone
could point to and say 'there is the end of a story'.  In this case,
the end of one adventure cannot truly be separated from the
beginning of the next.

Her vows, my Lady?  Such a simple question.  There is no simple
answer for it, though.  The story of her vows I must save for
another day as well.

Ah, you wish to know what happened to Captain Torres.  Camara never
did say exactly what occurred, only that one of the shapeshifters
managed to get their claws on the wretch, and that they never found
most of the body.  Only bloodstains and a few scattered bones
remained.

Typhus?  No, King Merovance did not execute him.  After all, they
were brothers.  They captured him as he tried to flee the kingdom.
He was exiled to a border castle and kept prisoner there for a long
time.

Another question, my Lord?  Of the inn?  Oh, you wish to know what
intrigued her enough to have her stop there.  Well, the gods are
known for their, ah, somewhat odd sense of humour at times.  This,
of course, is due to our mortal lack of understanding of divine
wit.

<Several people grin at this rather well-worn and ironic little
jest.>

The inn was called "The Lady's Hope". )

<Fin>

<End of Book 1>

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