Love got stale or flamed out. No one knew that better than Hasso these days. Common interests, on the other hand, could last. They’d better, the Wehrmacht officer thought. If they didn’t, he was dead.
Without the least bit of warning, flat-footed, Drepteaza tried to kick Hasso in the crotch. He sprang back out of danger – one of the rules when they trained together was that you had to be alert every second. She’d never actually got him in the balls. Bruises on his hip and thigh where he’d had to twist away instead of jumping back said she’d come close more than once.
She looked disappointed that she hadn’t made him sing soprano this time. “What did I do wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Hasso said. “But I know you are dangerous, so I watch you all the time. When you move, I move, too.”
“You’re fast,” she said. “I didn’t think anybody that big could be that quick. I’m sure you’re faster than most of the Lenelli who live in Bucovin.”
She didn’t say than most of the other Lenelli. Hasso couldn’t remember when she’d last said that. It had been a while, anyhow. He shrugged. “They can do things I can’t. I am never going to be anything much with a sword. They learn when they’re little. I learn now. They have too much head start. But this? This I know how to do.”
“You must,” she said. “You -” She tried to kick him again. Again, she gave nothing away beforehand. If he hadn’t suspected she might try to give him a double shot, she might have done what she aimed to do – leave him writhing in the tall grass clutching at himself.
Instead of leaping away or twisting, he grabbed her right foot and yanked it up farther than she’d intended it to go. She let out a startled squawk as she lost her balance and went over on her back.
He sprang on her and pinned her to the ground. She tried to knee him when he did – he really had trained her well – but he didn’t let her do that, either. “Got you this time,” he said, his face a few centimeters above hers.
She nodded. “Yes, you did. Now will you let me up? You’re squashing me flat.”
“Sorry.” He shifted so he took more of his weight on his knees and elbows. But then he said, “I let you up in a little bit,” and leaned down and kissed her.
If she’d wanted to nail him then, she could have done it. He realized as much just after his lips met hers, which was exactly too late. If she’d twisted away and screamed … Well, nobody was anywhere close by, but someone likely would have heard her. People would have come running. And then he wouldn’t have got hurt – he would have died: chances were, a millimeter at a time.
She didn’t do either of those things. For a couple of seconds, she didn’t do anything at all. He feared it would be a hopeless botch like the one in the garden back in Falticeni. But then she kissed him back – after a fashion. It was the most… experimental kiss he’d had since he was a kid and learning how himself.
The way she did it convinced him he’d better not push anything too hard. He drew back instead, and asked, “Well?”
Drepteaza stared up at him. “Not … so bad,” she said, sounding honestly surprised. “I didn’t used to think I would ever want a big blond to touch me in any way. But with you teaching me to fight … You had to touch me for that. And it was what it was, and after a while I didn’t worry about it anymore. And this, what you just did, what we just did, wasn’t so bad after all.”
Hasso bent toward her again. “How about this?” he asked softly.
This time, the kiss got down to business. She knew how, all right. She hadn’t been sure she wanted to. Now she seemed to be. Quite a while later, when their lips parted, she murmured, “That was pretty good.”
“Ja,” Hasso said, and she smiled. So did he, no doubt like an idiot. He went on, “I want to do this for a very long time.”
“You haven’t known me for a very long time.” Drepteaza was relentlessly precise. “What else have you wanted to do?”
He did his best to show her. He hadn’t thought he would be her first, and he wasn’t. He did hope he pleased her. He wasn’t sure, because she didn’t show what she felt as extravagantly as Velona. That he should think of Velona now, even for an instant… only showed he really had it bad. Well, he did, dammit.
Afterwards, he had no idea what to say. Before he could come up with anything, Drepteaza beat him to the punch: “There. Are you happier now?”
He started to laugh. That was as blunt as usual. “Yes,” he answered. “Are you?”
She frowned, thinking it over the way she so often did. If she said no, he thought he would sink down into the ground. But, thoughtful still, she nodded. “Yes, I am. I don’t know whether I will be if I bear a wizard’s child three seasons from now, but that is in the hands of the gods.”
Could a halfbreed work magic? Hasso thought so, but he wasn’t sure. He also wasn’t sure a German-Grenye halfbreed would be the same as a Lenello-Grenye halfbreed. Since he couldn’t do anything about that, or about whether Drepteaza would catch, he asked her, “Was it all right for you?”
If you have to ask, you won’t like the answer. That was a rule as ancient as women. Drepteaza, though, was out of the ordinary. She kept so much of herself to herself.
She nodded now – slowly, but she nodded. “You were … sweeter than I thought you would be,” she said. “You really meant it.”
“I said so,” Hasso replied. “What I say, I mean.”
“It would seem so,” Drepteaza admitted. “But I told you before – I know a lot of men will say anything to get a woman to go to bed with them.”
“Not in bed,” Hasso said with dignity – and with precision of his own. “On the grass.”
“So we are,” Drepteaza said. “We ought to get dressed, too, before someone comes over to find out why we’re not trying to ruin each other.”
“Wait,” Hasso said, and kissed her again. The kiss took on a life of its own, but not quite enough to start a second round. I’m getting old, dammit, the German thought. Even if he was still this side of forty, two in a row were only a memory.
She shook her head as she put on her breeches and tunic. “You are a very strange man, Hasso Pemsel.”
He shrugged. He couldn’t very well tell her she was wrong, not here, even if he would have been ordinary enough in the Reich. “I come from another world. What do you expect?”
As she had a habit of doing, she answered what he’d meant for a rhetorical question: “I expected you to act the way you look. I expected you to act like a Lenello. If I’d doubted you were one, I’d be sure you weren’t now.”
How did she mean that? Did she know how Lenello men made love? Did she know from experience? Do I want to find out? Hasso wondered, and decided he didn’t.
He pulled on his own trousers. “A good thing I see – uh, saw – those kicks coming,” he said. “Otherwise, we never do this now. If both those kicks get home, maybe we never do this forever.”
“I just have to practice more,” Drepteaza said sweetly. And how the hell did she mean that7. Once more, Hasso decided he didn’t want to find out.
Even if no one came out on the meadow and caught them in flagrante, the rest of the Bucovinans didn’t need long to figure out that Hasso and Drepteaza had become lovers. Rautat spoke for them: “You make her unhappy, you big blond prick, and I’ll cut you off at the knees so we’re the same size. Then I’ll really give you the whipping you deserve.”
“I don’t want to make her unhappy,” Hasso protested.
“You’d better not,” the underofficer growled. “She’s special, and not just ‘cause she’s a priestess, either.”