The Serpent Bride

Besides, when he’d touched her, something had happened. He had been shocked for a moment, and she … well, there had been something … enough, when combined with everything else, to strip Ishbel of all resistance.

He led her to the bed, took her face in gentle hands, and kissed her.

Ishbel struggled momentarily, then relaxed, again succumbing to whatever presence it was that Maximilian commanded. She allowed him to unclothe her (he had already witnessed her naked, what did it matter now?), and to run his hands and mouth over her body, and to bear her down to the bed and then, eventually, to mount and enter her.

It was not as abhorrent as she had expected. It was easier to relax and to allow his warmth and care to comfort her than it was to resist, or fear.

He was, she supposed, a good lover. She understood that he took great care with her, was infinitely gentle, and suffused their bedding with a self-deprecating humour that had her, unbelievably, smiling with genuine humour on one or two occasions.

There was some pain, a little discomfort, but mostly … an extraordinary sense of sinking into someone else’s care. Ishbel had expected to feel used, or violated, but Maximilian made her feel none of these things.

Everything about him was not what she had expected.

They lay in the dim light in silence for some time, then Maximilian propped himself on an elbow.

“You are such a mystery,” he said. “Not what I expected.”

“Neither are you what I expected,” she said, a hint of dryness in her voice.

“Tell me about where you come from. Tell me about the Coil.”

She tensed. “They took me in and cared for me when no one else would. I owe them everything.”

“Save your loyalty, for that you shall shortly owe me.”

She turned her head and looked at him. “Of course.”

“Of course,” he echoed. “Ishbel, I need to know that when you become my wife, then your loyalty will be mine, not left lingering with a … a …”

“With what? A bunch of murderous soothsayers?”

“They do not provide the best family for any bride, Ishbel. Why did they send you to me?”

“I don’t know.”

Maximilian wondered if she was lying. He didn’t know her well enough to tell. Did she understand the ancient mysteries, or had she no knowledge at all? She sounded genuine, but …

“All your estates and inheritances,” he said, “to be given to me, along with yourself. Why? Surely there were greater and better alliances the Coil —”

“All I know is that Aziel, the archpriest, told me that the Great Serpent instructed him that we would make a good marriage, and that it would be good for the land.”

“Ah …” For a moment Maximilian tried to believe that the only reason Light had sent Ishbel to him was to strengthen the Persimius line. It was a seductive and reassuring idea — that was the only reason Ishbel had come to him — but Maximilian knew he could not ignore the vision he’d had on the way to Pelemere. “What about your family, Ishbel? The Brunelle family. Is Brunelle an Outlander name? Or an émigré from … somewhere else?”

“Outlander.” Her voice and body were more relaxed now. “We have always been Outlanders.”

“Hmmm. The family had no contact with Escator?”

“I was eight when I lost my family, Maximilian. I have no idea who my father corresponded with.”

“I’m sorry. I am asking too many questions, but I want to understand you so much.” He paused, one hand gently stroking her shoulder and upper arm. “Tell me about when you lost your family. When the plague struck and—”

“I’d rather not.” Ishbel paused. “Not now. Sometime else perhaps.”

“Of course. We have, after all, a lifetime.”

“And will you tell me about your time in the Veins, if I ask?”

“Yes, I will do that.” Ishbel was very touchy, which Maximilian could understand given the circumstances of the night, and he also understood that further questions likely would not be a good idea, but he wanted desperately to know how much she understood about her bloodlines. Thus far she’d given no indication she understood anything, either about her Persimius heritage, or about Elcho Falling.

“When I first received the offer of your hand from the Coil,” Maximilian said, “I looked at a map of the Outlands to see where Serpent’s Nest was. A mountain home, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Right on the edge of the world,” Maximilian said softly, watching Ishbel carefully.

“Serpent’s Nest is on the east coastline of the Outlands,” she said. “It is …”

“Yes?”

She shrugged. “I was going to say that it is my home.”

“Was.”

She did not reply.

“A mountain is a strange place for a home.”

She sighed. “Maximilian …”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He leaned over, and kissed her softly. She did not return it, and he knew he had stayed long enough. Besides, it would be dawn soon, and he had a long ride ahead of him to rejoin Egalion and Garth and the Emerald Guard — all of whom were no doubt fretting about his continued absence.

“I have to go,” he said. “I should be out of the house by dawn.”

“You need to leave while the darkness still affords you cover,” Ishbel said.

He hesitated a little before replying. “Yes. I shall tell you about that one day, if you want.”

She nodded, not really knowing what to say, only wishing that having said he would go, he actually would. The thought of solitude brought her a rush of relief. Perhaps, then, she could finally relax and snatch a few brief hours of sleep.

As if in answer to her prayers Maximilian rolled away from her and rose from the bed. He hunted about in the dark for his clothes, dressed, then sat down on her side of the bed as he pulled on his boots.

Having buckled both boots, he sat still, looking at her. “I had no idea I would want you so much,” he said. “I distrusted you, and —”

“Still do,” Ishbel said.

“Aye, yes, still do, although I distrust the motives of the Coil more. I shall be a watchful husband, Ishbel.”

“We have not yet agreed on marriage, Maximilian.”