Jon and Celenda by Michael E. Shea (i have read the book a hundred times .txt) 📕

for the feast. The whisper-thin girl washed and perfumed Celenda's body, painted her lips and nails, and dressed her in scarlet and gold silks. The silks rode high on her thighs and left her right breast exposed, a recent fashion of the nobility. When Jon returned and beheld her, his face went crimson.

"Do you not approve?" Celenda asked, enjoying his reaction. He had transformed himself since she had last seen him. He dressed in a white tunic buttoned up the front and embroidered in swirling black. His trousers were tucked into the tops of tall boots shined in animal fat. His leather three-cornered hat had been replaced by one of black cotton felt decorated with a silver charm. His hair was washed, trimmed, and pulled back in a silver buckled band of leather. Black gloves covered his strong hands. He stood tall and handsome, but his expression was as hard as stone.

"It is not my approval you require."

Two hundred of Dan Trex's largest and fiercest warriors guarded the massive steel and stone doors of the Danken's palace. Dan Trex himself stood among his men. He wore steel, bronze, and black leather armor with Hellsplitter on his back. His hair and beard had grayed since Celenda had last seen him but his size still seemed massive.

Celenda prided herself on her ability to host a good feast. From the time she returned to her father's villa until Jon came for her, Celenda had hosted hundreds of feasts but nothing came close to what she saw in the Danken's Autumn Feast.

The rear of the crowd echoed off of the stone walls. Music of strings and long flutes filled the air. The smell of spiced cooking meat made Celenda's mouth water. Six enormous braziers burned twelve feet high. Smoke rose to the windows of the palace hall. Huge oxen cooked on spits as thick as a man's arm. A half dozen slaves turned the spits.

On a raised dais, beautiful men and women danced in swirling silks. All around, the elite class of the city reclined on large pillars and watched them. Celenda imagined the thousands of slaves who dug in the pits so these very few could live a life of such decadence. She knew she was no different.

Nearby, nobles coupled with pleasure slaves of the highest quality. Older noble women melted in the strong arms of young handsome males and noble men laid back while beautiful slave girls used all of their finest assets to pleasure them.

The clash of steel turned Celenda's attention to the sunken pit surrounded by men and women dressed in the finest cotton and silk garb in the city. She heard the struggle of combat in the pit but could see nothing through the crowd. Celenda heard a grunt of exertion, the crack of bone, and saw a jet of red blood spray over the crowd. The crowd roared. Celenda turned away.

None of these sights amazed Celenda as much as the pool. The entire center of the banquet hall was sunken below the floor and filled with clear water. Celenda had never seen so much water in one place before and doubted many had. Men and women swam naked in the pool, laughing and splashing one another. A handful of people swam in enough water to quench the thirst of the entire city.

Any pleasure for which one might ask could be found at the Danken's Feast. It was paradise. Yet in the shadows of the hall and in the darkness of each person's eyes burned the knowledge that the wrong word, the wrong sound, the wrong action, could spell death for the actor and his or her entire family. The Danken did not forgive anything. Celenda saw this first hand.

"Leigh is over there." Jon pointed to a far corner of the hall. "He's watching the animals. Let him see you first."

"Where will you be?"

"Watching you. I will meet you at our carriage when you are ready."

"Ambassador! Welcome!" A small man dressed in rich blue bowed to Jon, "Come with me, I have someone you must meet!"

Jon disappeared into the crowd and Celenda was alone.

A beast caller dressed in striped skins whistled while a three-headed cobra hissed with three strangely harmonic voices. A crowd of nobles applauded around him. Leigh was among them.

Leigh had aged since she had last seen him. Strands of gray laced through his dark hair. His skin was pale and soft, sagging on his thin neck. Cara, Leigh's first wife of three, stood next to him. Her dark hair was streaked with red and her eyes shone green in the torch light. Her age, over forty years, was well hidden under layers of thick powder and moist paste.

Old feelings long forgotten rose in Celenda when she saw Leigh. He and her father had been friends. Leigh visited often and they all traveled often to the neighboring cities together. Leigh and his wives often stayed at her father's villa drinking expensive wine and laughing. Leigh's eyes were always on her.

He came to her late one night, wine on his breath. His blue eyes were wide and his hands shook when he pulled down her bed sheet. He ran his hand over her body slowy. Celenda was so frightened. A nose got his attention. He covered her and left.

He had begun courting her but her father resisted. A fourth wife for Leigh was not up to her father's expectations for her but Leigh persisted. When her father was dragged off to the Danken's court, Celenda heard no more proposals. He gave her no marriage but while her father and sister were burned, she was sent to the villa. He gave her no ring but did not take her life.

"Celenda?" His voice shocked her from the dull memories. She turned and saw his wide eyes.

"Severn?"

It was late into the evening when the Danken visited the autumn feast. Celenda only caught glimpses of him before she, like every other person in the huge hall, lay prone, arms outstretched towards him. Everyone stopped eating, swimming, laughing, mating, and speaking to pay their ultimate respects to the God-king of Gazu Kadem. He looked no older than twenty five. Soon he was gone and the roar of the feast returned to life.

It was dawn before Celenda returned to her carriage. When she stepped inside she felt Jon's hand help her in. He climbed in afterwards and sat across from her.

"And?" he asked.

"Severn Leigh has invited me to join him on a visit to Gazu Tevel."

"Did you accept?"

"It is what you wanted." Jon and he spoke no more. He only looked at her with his cold blue eyes.

The next morning Jon and Celenda walked to the Noble's market. They pushed through the crowd, letting the smell of spices, perfumes, and human sweat flow over them.

Celenda's head swam. Less than a month before she was living in a red fog within the villa of her dead treacherous father and now she would walk the streets again as a noble. The feast had done something to her. She remembered how wonderful that life felt. She remembered what it was to be held above the rest of those who lived in the city, to walk among them as some strange exotic creature, a goddess. She wanted that life again.

It was these egotistical thoughts, she would later tell herself, that blinded her at that moment. She was so busy standing superior to all of those around her, lifting her head high above the merchants and slaves, that she never saw the man come for her.

He dressed in rough cotton, tied with a rope belt. The dirt on his body and his face was no different than the thousands of others who worked every moment in the hopes of not dying of thirst or starving. The way his dark eyes had beheld her, however, told her clearly that this man was no simple worker.

Celenda did not move as the man lunged for her. She couldn't comprehend anyone, especially of a class so lows as his own, daring to even come close to her. Jon saw him, however, and Jon moved.

It took less than a few seconds before the situation was over and Jon had Celenda by the arm as he led her back through the crowd. She tried to understand what had just happened but only remembered bits and pieces. She saw the man move forward. She saw a glint of sunlight in the man's hand. Jon had grabbed him and made three sharp movements with mechanical precision. Celenda heard two loud pops and the man screamed. Then Jon had grabbed her and they moved quickly from the market. Celenda had glanced back and saw the man lying on the ground, his right arm a and twisted ruin.

As she became more aware of what had happened, her skin grew cold and her heart beat faster. She had only known violence in word or from afar. Today she was nearly killed. She looked at Jon's stone-like expression. He had moved so fast! This was the second time he had saved her life.

She did not remember their fast walk back through the streets but soon she found herself back in her suite. Jon was staring at her with his eyes cold and his jaw set.

"I didn't see him," she said quietly. "He was going to kill me."

Jon's expression didn't change. He looked at her with cold eyes. She wanted him to hold her again like he had on the cliffs. She closed her eyes, waiting for his cold words to bite into her. Instead he pressed his lips to hers.

He made love to her as though his life depended on it. She met his need with her own. He tore off her silk shift and held her against the wall. His hands grasped her breasts and his mouth pressed hard on her own. Their bodies met again soon and again throughout the night. She denied him no pleasure and he gave as much in return.

She sat in the moonlight before dawn looking at his body. He looked so different, his hair unbound and his body bare. He was no ambassador of the north, no spy. He was a man scarred and light of skin. Celenda was in love with him.

She left before dawn. Jon still slept and she could think of no conversation that brought no pain, so she left and went to Severn Leigh on his journey to Gazu Tevel.

They rode in a vessel as large as Celenda's suite. It housed Celenda, Severn Leigh, his first wife, her younger brother, his own first wife, and five comfort slaves. Four huge desert beasts pulled the massive vessel with another two beasts pulling a cart of water, foods, and other supplies. Forty armed guards and twenty workers flanked the enormous silk and wood carriage.

Celenda grew into the comforts that surrounded her. She watched mountain bluffs turn into deep desert canyons. She watched the red sun turn the sky violet as servants fanned her. She chatted for hours with Severn and his wife without saying a single word of substance.

She forced herself to forget why she was here and become the lady of nobility once again. Try as she could, Celenda could not keep Jon out of her dreams.

It was the night before they were due in Gazu Tevel when Severn came to her. She had been with many men, many for whom she cared not at all. She had worried that doing what she knew she needed to do would be hard, but it was not. It was easy. It was easy for her and she hated herself for it.

The decadence of her journey increased