Tanith of Gold 06
Tanith watched him walk down the passageway to his room and enter it without looking back. She felt unbidden tears roll down her cheeks as she closed the door to her room. She stripped off the gown and walked towards her bed feeling the ache of sobs clenching her abdomen. She did not know what was wrong with her. She seldom cried like this. She had wept because she thought she had killed him by mistake - a reflex action honed by battle and practice.
Tanith appears to the King
Tanith watched him walk down the passageway to his room and enter it without looking back. She felt unbidden tears roll down her cheeks as she closed the door to her room. She stripped off the gown and walked towards her bed feeling the ache of sobs clenching her abdomen. She did not know what was wrong with her. She seldom cried like this. She had wept because she thought she had killed him by mistake - a reflex action honed by battle and practice. Bitter feelings of despair ran through her - she must be abnormal, she thought, no other woman she knew fought better than a man. And why did she love this man, without reason or reserve? She had never loved a man before and had sworn to die a virgin, she had made binding oaths to her god. Why should that be swept away in an instant when she had looked into his eyes in the Courtroom?
Tanith lay face down on her bed, burying her face in the soft eiderdown cushions, trying to stifle the sobs which threatened to overwhelm her again. As she drew a deep breath to control herself, she remembered her training and began to breathe correctly - a diaphragm breath, held for a count of ten, and twice as slowly out. She was so practiced that her poise returned immediately and she slipped into her Worship state, carefully and lovingly taught to her by Persian priestesses as a girl. Her mind became calm and concentrated as she changed the rhythm of her breathing. A heaviness descended into her pelvis and there was a tingling at the base of her spine. She felt the beginning of a full vision approaching and knew that she could not stop - all her training had warned her that the unpredictable powers should never be thwarted. She felt the giddy onrush of blood - she could feel every thread of the sheet of the bed and the soft silkiness of the cushions - the breeze from the open window cooled the sweat on her back. She felt the convulsions rippling in a series of shuddering waves, until, after a breathless moment, the wild magic arced across the gap and began to ignite the sleeping fire in her spine. It was always terrifying and dangerous but she was swept upwards, her body rippling in waves and her consciousness fizzing and sparking in ecstasy. She felt herself soaring far above the building, free and unfettered while the white light burned in front of her and her inner ears were drowned in the joyous ringing of a thousand bells. She saw celestial beings and they called out her name in different tongues but she could not tarry - if she stayed then her body would be left untenanted.
Suddenly she was back in her body, glowing and filled with power. She rose in one movement and moved through a series of ritualistic and ordained movements until her breathing returned to normal.
Portia had been walking along the external balcony back to her kitchen to make final preparations for the king. From the open window she had seen Tanith throw herself down on the bed. Portia stopped to admire Tanith's sleek physique, reflecting that sometimes she wished she was a man, when within a very short time and completely unaided Tanith had displayed signs of enjoying an overwhelming and prolonged series of climaxes, her body rippling and convulsing to such a degree that Portia became alarmed. The sight was so stirring that Portia moved closer to the open window, her own breath starting to catch, before she saw that Tanith was rising, her body glistening and shimmering, her eyes on fire. Portia hurried on to the kitchen to do the finishing touches, crossing herself several times. She was not sure exactly what she had seen and she wondered whether she should warn Michael. Instead she found one of her maids and issued swift instructions. She instructed them to make sure that the only dress that fitted was a white silk gown, which had belonged to Melissa, the King's closest lover, who lived in a discrete wing of the palace. The King kept an official harem on the mainland but it was said that he did that to annoy the Pope and also to act as a safe haven for women he wanted to protect. It was also said that he once stayed there for two weeks and sampled every one of the three hundred women, young and old, by nature of an experiment. Like many of the stories about him he made no effort to contradict this one.
Tanith was surprised a few minutes later to find three maids at her door laden with perfumes and lotions and beautiful clothing. She was stiff and embarrassed to be manipulated by three strange woman especially when they filled the round marble bath in the wash area. Rowan's quarters were newly built and, with a cunningly contrived series of sluices and stone gutters, warm water gushed from a distant boiler and splashed into the bath with great drama. Amid all the merriment and shrieks Tanith relaxed and allowed herself to be undressed and scrubbed and pummelled. She did not allow them to shave her anywhere but she did relent and allow them to close crop her underarm. The maids were in awe of her muscles and scars but they exclaimed most over her long red-gold hair which reached most of the way down her back. Unmercifully they teased out the knots and brushed it to a burnished fire. Then they oiled her body with heady lotions and exclaimed over her pale, translucent skin. With much tittering they oiled and combed out her luxuriant copper pubic hair. A breathless maid arrived to tell them that the King had arrived so they had to choose from the clothing. Only one gown was big enough so Tanith stood in front of the mirror while they fitted the buttoned gown behind her.
Tanith gasped when she could see herself. The silk dress shimmered white, her skin glowed and her hair fell in cascades of gold over her shoulders. The gown showed most of her proud breasts and her shoulders and arms looked powerful but elegant. Her assurance returned and after thanking her maids sweetly she walked down the passage to the dining area.
Portia had just prepared the table and carried out a steaming tureen of bean soup garnished with her own blend of spices. The King had a distressing habit of fasting from meat and invariably would not inform her in time so she prepared accordingly. She knew he liked her fish and couscous dish but she had a brace of ducks roasting to perfection in the main castle kitchen.
When Tanith entered she found the King standing at the wide window looking out over the bay, deep in thought. He heard her entrance and turned. He had opened his mouth to greet her and went silent, apparently unable to close it. She paused in confusion, unsure whether to curtsy. She was so unused to a gown. she ended up bowing like a man and in the awkward movement her breasts tumbled out of the low bodice as she straightened. Despite her confusion the ripe humour of the moment affected them simultaneously.
“Well, it seems your breasts salute me every time I see you!” the King said. His rich peal of laughter joined hers as she covered herself. He had recovered his poise and led her easily into a discussion of the latest foibles of fashion at Venetian functions.