~ Double Moon Destiny ~

by

*lizzie starr

One

Jermanah paused in the open doorway; her breath coming in short gasps from her run at the Seer’s urgent summons. The master was at his herb bench gathering dried leaves and stems into a small copper bowl. He did not turn toward her when she continued to hover in the doorway but gave a brief nod. A man lay draped across the table. Dark blood had trickled from a wound in the elevated shoulder, oozed across a muscular back and pooled on the rough table beneath him.

Jermanah moved closer and squinted at the wound. There didn’t appear to be any serious muscular damage. A sudden catch in her throat stopped her breathing for a moment. Besides the elderly Seer and guards, there were no males in the Compound and the guards were always fully covered by their leather armor. A tingle not unlike the rise of healing power started low in her belly. Even though she had never seen such an expanse of bronzed male skin, she knew the muscular bulges across the broad shoulders were in just the right proportions. Her gaze dropped reluctantly. A loosened shirt hung from a soft leather belt at his narrow waist. Jermanah willed her nerves, and her rapidly beating heart to calmness.

"Ah." The Seer spoke softly then coughed, startling Jermanah from her fascinated contemplation. "You have had no practice with sword wounds in the Compound, child. This will be your test. He has already been given a sleeping draught to ease the healing."

Jermanah took a deep breath and stepped closer until she felt heat radiating from the man’s skin. Bending, she peered again at the wounded shoulder. A long, sun bleached braid curled into the short gash. She carefully lifted the silky strands and brushed them forward over his shoulder. Lightly tangled in the golden mass; her fingers lingered against his skin.

She spoke without facing her mentor. "Who is he?"

The Seer snorted and then sat a bowl of warm water on the table. Crushed herbs floated on the surface, the strong fragrance soothing Jermanah’s jangled nerves. "It is of no concern to you, child. It is enough to know he is not of the Compound. Proceed."

Jermanah took the soft cloth the Seer lay beside the bowl, dipped it in the water and cleansed the wound. The edges of the cut were jagged but fit together easily. The bleeding had stopped so she swiped the rag down his shoulder to wipe away the trail of dried blood. Satisfied with her preparations, she dropped the cloth into the bowl and took a deep breath. After a second breath, she placed her hands softly on either side of the gash. Her eyes lost focus while she looked within for the power to heal. Searching the deep recesses of her being, she called for the abilities she was forced to keep hidden from all but the Seer.

She spoke soft words of power and steadily pushed the torn edges of skin together. The warm tingle of healing faded as the slash knit together, leaving only a stark white scar marring the smooth tanned shoulder.

A strange sensation replaced the power and grew to an indefinable ache in her chest and belly. She caressed the man’s warm skin.

The Seer lay his hands over hers, humor and questions rising in his eyes. A burning rose from her chest to fill her face with heat. The Seer smiled.

Jerking her hands from beneath his, Jermanah stared at her fingers. After a quick glance at the man’s back she covered her open mouth with her fingers and fled the room.

~ * ~

Kierigh felt the rough wood of the table beneath his cheek and the slowing trickle of blood from the wound in his shoulder. But he couldn’t move. It would be easy to succumb to the sleep caressing the edges of his mind. But he hadn’t kept himself alive this long by lowering his guard.

He strained to open one eye a mere slit when the healer began to clean the wound and probe it gently. Warmth flowed over his shoulder. The healer was skilled. The Seer called his apprentice child, but Kierigh knew it was no child’s body pressing against his back. Even with a mind numbed by the strength of the sleeping draught, he recognized the soft fullness of a feminine breast. The touch brought a longing ache to his drugged body.

Suddenly the touch was gone. Kierigh sighed and willed the longing away. An apprentice of the Compound was not for him. There was no room in his life for one of the prissy little acolytes. He heard the Seer’s laughter as if from a great distance. There was the soft movement of air when the healer rushed away from him.

He forced his other eye open then squinted to clear his wavering vision, but he could see only the drab gray robe that flashed past him. Faint light from the doorway highlighted long, multi-hued hair when the apprentice paused. Tiny bare feet made soft slapping sounds as she rushed through the narrow opening after the distant clang of the Compound bells.

Kierigh struggled to rise, his fingers grasping toward the retreating figure. The Seer chuckled. "Soon, my friend." Gnarled fingers touched his forehead, broke down his carefully constructed defenses and opened the pathway to healing sleep.