Someone was out there.
Xena stood at the entrance of the yurt, staring out into the darkness. The plains rolled away into the night; there was not the least light to betray a soul, not the least sound.
“Come to bed, Xena.”
Xena ignored Borias’ low voice, and continued looking suspiciously into the night. She could sense someone; something. But neither her eyes, as sharp as a falcon's, nor her ears could locate anything.
“Xena . . .”
It was strange to think how little she’d known of the ways of love before she’d met Borias. Patrocles had been pitiful, and Caesar’s attempts straightforward and boring. Borias, on the other hand, was creative, wild, rough, and immensely erotic. It bothered her that while she knew she would have to kill him sometime, the slightest touch of his hand drove all thoughts of murder from her mind. He had betrayed her, and for that he ought to have died; and yet there he was, sharing her tent, sharing her body – worst of all, sharing her glory.
Then she smiled a little. No matter how he held her, she could still conquer him every time.
The thought of her conquest diverted her, and she turned her head away from the yurt’s entrance. He had the furs of the bear he had killed a month back, and was spreading them over the floors of the yurt.
“You want to love me on a bearskin rug? How original,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Not on – under,” he growled, approaching her. She reached out a hand, then shuddered. In an instant, her dagger was in her hand and she was in front of the yurt, surrounded by darkness.
There was no one there. There was no one there. But she could feel a presence so strongly; in fact, she could swear that her eyes were staring directly into another pair, that the warmth of another body was just inches away –
She didn’t believe in ghosts, she told herself urgently. She didn’t – and whose ghost would have such power? She hadn’t felt such power since . . . since . . .
“Lao Ma?” she uttered brokenly. “You called me your warrior princess, and I betrayed you . . .”
The dark encompassed her, and immediately she realised the power was one she had never felt before; and rather than being based on emptiness, was made up entirely of longing. She reached out a hand into the air ahead of her, almost expecting it to be clasped. For an instant she felt embraced and enclosed by something stronger than she knew. A wave of desire overtook her.
“Xena!”
Borias pushed open the folds of the yurt’s opening, and stared out.
“What is it – is there someone there?”
Xena felt the presence fade, leave. She tensed a little, then turned back to Borias.
“There’s no one there,” she told him, and then said no more.
The tree was aflame in the night;
The forest blazed.
And so I burn –
You kindle my heart.
Please e-mail the author of this story with your comments. carly@lifestart.org.au.