ggk.thelionsofal-rassan-第36节

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nly；　where　the　two　children　were。
　　〃I　heard　what　he　said。　Despite　that；　Almalik　ibn　Almalik　has　a　nature　not　immune　to　enticement；〃　he　replied；　still　being　cautious。　In　its　own　way　he　was　making　an　appalling　suggestion；　though　by　no　means　an　unprecedented　one。　Royal　sons　succeeded　fathers；　in　more　ways　than　one。
　　She　gave　him　a　sidelong　glance。　〃A　man's　enticement；　or　a　woman's？　Perhaps　you　could　enlighten　me　as　to　that？〃　she　said　sweetly。　Then　went　on　before　he　could　reply：　〃I　know　him。　I've　had　him　watched　a　long　time；　Ammar。　He　will　be　immune　to　whatever　charms　I　yet　retain。　He　is　too　afraid。　For　him；　I　will　carry　the　shadow　of　his　father　wherever　I　go；　in　bed　or　in　court；　and　he　isn't　ready　to　deal　with　that。〃　She　sipped　from　her　drink　again　and　looked　out　at　the　gleaming　curve　of　the　river　and　the　reddening　hills。　〃He　will　want　to　kill　my　sons。〃
　　Ammar　had　been　thinking　the　same　thing；　actually。
　　He　decided　it　was　better；　in　the　circumstances；　not　to　ask　where　the　boys　were；　though　it　would　have　been　useful　knowledge　for　later。　The　servant　returned　with　two　more　glasses；　water　and　wine　in　a　beautifully　crafted　decanter。　He　had　spent　a　small　fortune　on　glass　over　the　years。　More　things　to　leave　behind。
　　The　tray　was　set　down　and　the　servant　withdrew。　Ibn　Khairan　mixed　water　and　wine　for　the　two　of　them。　They　drank；　not　speaking。　The　wine　was　very　good。
　　The　image　of　two　small　boys　seemed　to　hang　in　the　air　in　the　gathering　twilight。　Suddenly；　for　no　good　reason；　he　thought　of　Ishak　of　Fezana；　the　Kindath　doctor　who　had　attended　upon　Zabira　for　both　those　boys…and　had　lost　his　eyes　and　tongue　after　the　delivery　of　the　second。　He　had　gazed　with　an　infidel's　eyes　upon　the　forbidden　beauty　of　the　woman　whose　life　he　had　saved。　The　woman　now　standing　here；　her　scent　vivid　and　distracting；　her　white　skin　flawless。　He　wondered　if　she　knew　what　had　happened　to　Ishak　ben　Yonannon；　if　Almalik　had　ever　told　her。　That　led　to　another　unexpected　thought。
　　〃You　really　did　love　the　king；　didn't　you？〃　he　asked　at　length；　uncharacteristically　awkward。　He　didn't　feel　entirely　in　control　of　this　situation。　Murdering　someone　left　you　vulnerable　to　certain　things；　he　had　almost　forgotten　that　lesson　over　the　course　of　fifteen　years。　How　was　one　to　proceed　with　the　lover　of　a　man　one　had　slain？
　　〃You　know　I　did；〃　she　said　calmly。　〃That　isn't　a　difficult　or　even　a　real　question；　Ammar。〃　She　turned　and　stood　facing　him　for　the　first　time。　〃The　difficult　truth　is　that　you　loved　him　as　well。〃
　　And　that　he　had　not　expected。
　　He　shook　his　head　quickly。　〃No。　I　respected　him；　I　admired　his　strength；　I　enjoyed　the　subtlety　of　his　mind。　His　foresight；　his　cunning。　I　had　hopes　of　the　son；　as　well。　In　a　way；　I　still　do。〃
　　〃Otherwise　your　teaching　was　wasted？〃
　　〃Otherwise　my　teaching　was　wasted。〃
　　〃It　was；〃　said　Zabira　flatly。　〃You'll　see；　soon　enough。　And　though　I　heard　a　denial　of　love；　I　am　afraid　I　do　not　believe　it。〃
　　She　set　down　her　empty　glass　and　looked　up　at　him　thoughtfully；　standing　very　near。　〃Tell　me　something　else；〃　she　said；　her　voice　changing　timbre。　〃You　suggested　the　new　king　was　not　immune　to　enticement。　Are　you；　Ammar？〃
　　He　was；　perhaps；　the　least　easily　startled　man　in　Al…Rassan；　but　this；　following　hard　upon　the　last　remarks；　was　entirely　unexpected。　Hilarity；　intense　and　swift；　rose　within　him　and　as　swiftly　subsided。　He　had　killed　her　lover　that　morning。　The　father　of　her　children。　The　hope　of　her　future。
　　〃I　have　been　accused　of　many　things；　but　never　that；〃　he　said；　parrying　for　time。
　　She　granted　him　none。　〃Good；　then；〃　said　Zabira　of　Cartada；　and　rising　on　her　toes；　she　kissed　him　upon　the　lips；　slowly　and　with　considerable　expertise。
　　Someone　else　did　this　to　me；　not　long　ago；　ibn　Khairan　thought；　before　all　such　associations　were　chased　away。　The　woman　on　the　terrace　with　him　stepped　back；　but　only　to　begin…silk　sleeves　falling　away　to　reveal　the　white　skin　of　her　arms…unbinding　her　black　hair。
　　He　stared；　mesmerized；　words　and　thoughts　scattering　in　disarray。　He　watched　her　hands　descend　to　the　pearl　buttons　of　her　overtunic。　She　undid　two　of　them；　and　paused。　It　was　not　an　overtunic。　She　wore　nothing　beneath。　In　the　extremely　clear；　soft　light　he　glimpsed　the　pale；　pear…like　curves　of　her　breasts。
　　His　throat　was　suddenly　dry。　His　voice　husky　in　his　own　ears；　ibn　Khairan　said；　〃My　rooms　are　just　here。〃
　　〃Good；〃　she　said　again。　〃Show　me。〃
　　It　did　occur　to　him　just　then　that　she　might　have　e　here　to　kill　him。
　　It　did　not　occur　to　him　to　do　anything　about　it。　He　had；　truly；　never　been　accused　of　being　immune　to　enticement。　He　lifted　her　up；　she　was　small…boned　and　slender；　no　real　weight　at　all。　The　scent　of　her　surrounded　him；　dizzying　for　a　moment。　He　felt　her　mouth　at　the　lobe　of　one　ear。　Her　fingers　were　about　his　neck。　His　blood　loud　within　him；　ibn　Khairan　carried　her　through　a　doorway　and　into　his　bedchamber。
　　Is　it　the　possibility　of　dying　that　does　this？　he　wondered；　his　first　and　last　such　clear　thought　for　some　time。　Is　that　what　excites　me　so？
　　His　bed；　in　a　large　room　hung　with　Serian　tapestries；　was　low　to　the　ground；　covered　with　cushions　and　pillows　in　a　diversity　of　shapes　and　sizes；　as　much　for　love…play　as　for　color　and　texture。　Crimson…dyed　squares　of　silk　hung　from　copper　rings　on　the　wall　above　the　bed　and　set　into　the　carved　wooden　foot。　Ammar　preferred　freedom　of　movement　in　his　lovemaking；　the　slide　and　traverse　of　bodies；　but　there　had　been　those　among　his　guests　in　this　room　who　derived　their　keenest　pleasures　otherwise；　and　over　the　years　he　had　earned　a　reputation　as　a　host　solicitous　of　all　of　his　guests'　desires。
　　Even　so；　even　with　almost　twenty　years　of　nuanced　experience　in　erotic　play；　ibn　Khairan　was　swiftly　made　aware…though　not；　in　truth；　with　any　great　surprise…that　a　woman　trained　as　Zabira　had　been　knew　some　things　he　did　not。　Even；　it　began　to　emerge；　things　about　his　own　nature　and　responses。
　　Unclothed　among　the　pillows　some　time　later；　he　felt　her　fingers　teasing　and　exploring　him；　winced　at　a　bite　and　felt　his　sex　grow　even　more　rigid　amid　the　growing　shadows　of　the　room　as　her　mouth　came　back　to　his　ear　and　she　whispered　something　quite　shocking　in　the　exquisite；　celebrated　voice。　Then　his　eyes　grew　wide　in　the　darkness　as　she　proceeded　to　perform　precisely　what　she　had　just　described。
　　All　the　training　mistresses　and　castrates　of　Almalik's　court　had　e　over　the　wide　seas　from　the　homelands　of　the　east；　where　such　skills　had　been　part　of　courtly　life　for　hundreds　of　years　before　Ashar's　ascetic　vigil　in　the　desert。　It　was　possible；　Ammar's　drifting　thoughts　essayed；　that　a　journey　to　Soriyya　might　have　more　to　offer　than　he'd　imagined。　He　felt　a　breathless　laugh　escape　him。
　　Zabira　slipped　further　downward；　her　scented　skin　gliding　along　his；　her　fingernails　offering　counterpoint　where　they　touched。　Ibn　Khairan　heard　a　sigh　of　helpless　pleasure　and　realized　that；　improbably；　he　had　made　that　sound　himself。　He　attempted　to　rise　then；　to　turn；　to　begin　the　sharing；　the　flowing　back…and…forth　of　love　but　he　felt　her　hands；　delicately　insistent；　pushing　him　down。　He　surrendered；　closed　his　eyes；　let　her　begin；　her　voice　exclaiming　in　delight　or　murmuring　in　mentary；　to　minister　to　him　as　he　had　ministered　to　so　many　people　in　this　room。
　　It　went　on；　astonishingly　varied　and　inventive；　for　some　time。　The　sun　had　set。　The　room　was　encased　in　darkness…they　had　paused　to　light　no　candles　here…before　his　sensibilities　began；　as　a　swimmer　rises　from　green　depths　of　the　sea；　to　reassert　themselves。　And　slowly；　feeling　almost　drugged　with　desire；　ibn　Khairan　came　to　understand　something。
　　She　was　beside　him　just　then；　having　turned　him　on　his　side。　One　of　her　legs　was　wrapped　about　his　body；　she　had　him　enclosed　within　her　sex；　and　her　movements　were　indeed　those　of　sea　tides　in　their　insistent；　unwavering　rise　and　fall。
　　He　brushed　a　nipple　with　his　tongue；　testing　his　new　thought。　Without　pause　in　her　rhythm…which　was；　intuitively；　his　own　deepest　rhythm…she　caressed　his　head　and　tilted　it　away。
　　〃Zabira；〃　he　whispered；　his　voice　distant　and　difficult。
　　〃Hush；〃　she　murmured；　a　tongue　to　his　ear　again。　〃Oh；　hush。　Let　me　carry　you　away。〃
　　〃Zabira；〃　he　tried　again。
　　She　shifted　then；　sinuous　and　smooth；　and　was　above　him　now；　more　urgently；　his　manhood　still　within　her；　sheathed　in　liquescence。　Her　mouth　descended；　covered　his。　Her　breath　was　scented　with　mint；　her　kisses　a　kind　of　threading　fire。　She　stopped　his　speech；　her　tongue　like　a　hummingbird。　Her　nails　raked　downward　along　his　side。　He　gasped。
　　And　turned　his　head　away。
　　He　lifted　his　hands　then；　with　some　effort；　and　grasped　her　by　the　arms；　gently；　but　so　she　could　not　twist　away　again。　In　the　darkness　he　tried　to　see　her　eyes　but　could　discern　only　the　heart…shaped　shadow　of　her　face　and　the　curtain　of　her　black　hair。
　　〃Zabira；〃　he　said；　an　utterly　unexpected　kind　of　pain　within　him；　〃you　need　not　punish　yourself；　or　hold　back　sorrow。　It　is　all　right　to　mourn。　It　is　allowed。〃
　　She　went　stiff　with　shock；　as　if　slapped。　Her　body　arched　backwards　in　the　first　uncontrolled　movement　she　had　mad