A Stone-Kissed Sea
Page 68
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Makeda must have been staring because Saba walked up behind her and bumped her shoulder with her own.
“They are so handsome when they plan war, are they not?”
“They’re handsome all the time,” Makeda said.
Kato was handsome. Strikingly so, but he was not the one her eyes rested on. Not the face that made her heart beat. That was Lucien.
“They are handsome men,” Saba said. “You made a good choice to take Lucien as a lover, not that looks have anything to do with skill in pleasing a woman. But Lucien has spent time in Arosh’s harem and learned from his lovers. I can hear that he pleases you, which is good. Women should always be pleased, and if they are not, they should make their lover aware of it. It does neither any good to stay silent.”
“Right.” Makeda closed her eyes and tried not to wince. Was this Saba’s version of a maternal talk? Frank talk about sex had never been comfortable for Makeda unless it was in medical terms.
Saba patted her shoulder. “You will become accustomed to me,” she said. “I think you are as shy as my son. Even when he was young, he rarely spoke about the women he coupled with.”
“Some things are private.”
Saba threw her head back and laughed. “Not with ears like ours! Come. Let us join them and plan how we will overthrow this council in Athens. I haven’t gone to war in over a thousand years. This should be interesting.”
They walked toward the fire. Gedeyon and Hirut were spreading out baskets of injera, tibs, and various stews on a low table to one side of the fire. A large plate of avocado and tomatoes was also available, and Makeda wondered who was going to eat all the food. Vampires did have appetites, but hers was small. At least for human food, it was small.
She was officially seven weeks old in vampire terms, and she’d begun to feel a lessening in her hunger the week before. She no longer grabbed for blood the first thing upon waking as long as she’d fed before she slept.
She wondered how much of that was a natural lessening in her appetite and how much was an effect of taking Lucien’s blood nearly every night. She didn’t take much—nothing like the quart of human blood she still drank every night—but Lucien’s blood was rich. Like drinking dark chocolate after only having water. Just a little bit satisfied her hunger.
Makeda was also experimenting with drinking preserved blood, blood-wine, and cow’s blood. So far, the cow’s blood was the most distasteful. She actually preferred blood-wine, which she knew was expensive, but Lucien told her not to worry about it. After fresh human blood, blood-wine combined with a small meal of human food had proven to be the most satisfying way to assuage her hunger.
“Thank you,” she said to Hirut when the vampire finally sat with them. Lucien and Kato had left their rock table and joined them at the low table. They sat on the ground, as Saba preferred, and passed blood-wine around the table. Lucien took the place next to her and leaned over to ask for a kiss. Makeda gave it to him, and he brushed a hand over her knee before he turned to ask Gedeyon a question.
Makeda looked around the low table lit by candles and filled with food. She could hear music on the other island; the human families living there were singing and laughing as they finished their evening meal.
The food. The company. A familiar kiss in greeting and the company of friends. It felt familiar and safe. Like home.
A sharp jab of pain in her chest.
Lucien must have sensed something, because he turned from Gedeyon and took her hand. “What is it?”
Makeda shook her head. “This place. It finally feels like home, and I have to leave it.”
He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. “But we’ll return. After we finish in Athens and things settle down. You’ll be more controlled by then too. We can explore more. You can see Lalibela. Visit your grandmother in Sidamo.”
She took a steadying breath. “How can you make it all sound so normal?”
He waved his arm at the table. “Because it is. This is all normal.”
Her face must have showed her skepticism, because he leaned over and put his chin on her shoulder and his arm around her waist.
“You have family, Makeda. You have friends. A home. A job, if you want it. You can have the life you want, yene hiwot, you will just have more time to live it.”
“And you want to live it with me?” She forced her eyes to his and didn’t look away. “This new life I make. You want it to be your life too?”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “I’ve been wandering for a few thousand years,” he said. “It’s probably time to settle down.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t understand you.”
“You will.” He kissed her cheek and reached for the injera. “We have time.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“We approach this as we do any campaign,” Lucien said. “The fundamentals have not changed, but the scale has. There are far more individual rulers in the Mediterranean now than there were even five hundred years ago.”
“What level of fealty are we looking for?” Kato asked. “How much do we need?”
Lucien looked at the map, which covered North Africa, the entire Mediterranean, the Black Sea, and most of the Middle East. Rough outlines of immortal territories were drawn over it—territories that had little to do with modern human borders—along with names. Every single one of those names owed blood loyalty to one of the four elders who would be sitting in Athens if his plan came to fruition.
“They are so handsome when they plan war, are they not?”
“They’re handsome all the time,” Makeda said.
Kato was handsome. Strikingly so, but he was not the one her eyes rested on. Not the face that made her heart beat. That was Lucien.
“They are handsome men,” Saba said. “You made a good choice to take Lucien as a lover, not that looks have anything to do with skill in pleasing a woman. But Lucien has spent time in Arosh’s harem and learned from his lovers. I can hear that he pleases you, which is good. Women should always be pleased, and if they are not, they should make their lover aware of it. It does neither any good to stay silent.”
“Right.” Makeda closed her eyes and tried not to wince. Was this Saba’s version of a maternal talk? Frank talk about sex had never been comfortable for Makeda unless it was in medical terms.
Saba patted her shoulder. “You will become accustomed to me,” she said. “I think you are as shy as my son. Even when he was young, he rarely spoke about the women he coupled with.”
“Some things are private.”
Saba threw her head back and laughed. “Not with ears like ours! Come. Let us join them and plan how we will overthrow this council in Athens. I haven’t gone to war in over a thousand years. This should be interesting.”
They walked toward the fire. Gedeyon and Hirut were spreading out baskets of injera, tibs, and various stews on a low table to one side of the fire. A large plate of avocado and tomatoes was also available, and Makeda wondered who was going to eat all the food. Vampires did have appetites, but hers was small. At least for human food, it was small.
She was officially seven weeks old in vampire terms, and she’d begun to feel a lessening in her hunger the week before. She no longer grabbed for blood the first thing upon waking as long as she’d fed before she slept.
She wondered how much of that was a natural lessening in her appetite and how much was an effect of taking Lucien’s blood nearly every night. She didn’t take much—nothing like the quart of human blood she still drank every night—but Lucien’s blood was rich. Like drinking dark chocolate after only having water. Just a little bit satisfied her hunger.
Makeda was also experimenting with drinking preserved blood, blood-wine, and cow’s blood. So far, the cow’s blood was the most distasteful. She actually preferred blood-wine, which she knew was expensive, but Lucien told her not to worry about it. After fresh human blood, blood-wine combined with a small meal of human food had proven to be the most satisfying way to assuage her hunger.
“Thank you,” she said to Hirut when the vampire finally sat with them. Lucien and Kato had left their rock table and joined them at the low table. They sat on the ground, as Saba preferred, and passed blood-wine around the table. Lucien took the place next to her and leaned over to ask for a kiss. Makeda gave it to him, and he brushed a hand over her knee before he turned to ask Gedeyon a question.
Makeda looked around the low table lit by candles and filled with food. She could hear music on the other island; the human families living there were singing and laughing as they finished their evening meal.
The food. The company. A familiar kiss in greeting and the company of friends. It felt familiar and safe. Like home.
A sharp jab of pain in her chest.
Lucien must have sensed something, because he turned from Gedeyon and took her hand. “What is it?”
Makeda shook her head. “This place. It finally feels like home, and I have to leave it.”
He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. “But we’ll return. After we finish in Athens and things settle down. You’ll be more controlled by then too. We can explore more. You can see Lalibela. Visit your grandmother in Sidamo.”
She took a steadying breath. “How can you make it all sound so normal?”
He waved his arm at the table. “Because it is. This is all normal.”
Her face must have showed her skepticism, because he leaned over and put his chin on her shoulder and his arm around her waist.
“You have family, Makeda. You have friends. A home. A job, if you want it. You can have the life you want, yene hiwot, you will just have more time to live it.”
“And you want to live it with me?” She forced her eyes to his and didn’t look away. “This new life I make. You want it to be your life too?”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “I’ve been wandering for a few thousand years,” he said. “It’s probably time to settle down.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t understand you.”
“You will.” He kissed her cheek and reached for the injera. “We have time.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“We approach this as we do any campaign,” Lucien said. “The fundamentals have not changed, but the scale has. There are far more individual rulers in the Mediterranean now than there were even five hundred years ago.”
“What level of fealty are we looking for?” Kato asked. “How much do we need?”
Lucien looked at the map, which covered North Africa, the entire Mediterranean, the Black Sea, and most of the Middle East. Rough outlines of immortal territories were drawn over it—territories that had little to do with modern human borders—along with names. Every single one of those names owed blood loyalty to one of the four elders who would be sitting in Athens if his plan came to fruition.
