Free The Book of Fire by Marjorie B. Kellogg Page B

He’s floating on that cushion of unreality again, with the girl seated on one side and Sedou across from him, both ready to translate. The seat on his left is empty until the most beautiful white woman he’s ever laid eyes on plunks a big steaming dish down in the center of the table and settles in next to him. She smiles and says something he doesn’t get, then holds out her hand.
    “This is Raven,” supplies the girl from his right.
    “Oh. Hello, Raven.” N’Doch can feel Sedou’s eyes laughing already. He takes the proffered, lovely hand and raises it, just like he’s seen in vids, gallantly to his lips.

    Later, when Raven gets up to refill the jug of ale she’s just emptied into his tankard, N’Doch no longer cares what century he’s in. These women’s homemade hooch tastespretty damn good to him and the company couldn’t be improved upon. Now that he’s got the chance, he leans over to the girl and whispers, “So where’s all the men at? They out fighting or something?”
    She blinks at him, then wags her head in understanding. “I forgot—you wouldn’t know. There are no men at Deep Moor.”
    “None?” He glances around, sees two or three young girls who’ve got to have had a father at some point.
    The girl follows his gaze. “Oh, well, just the occasional visitor.”
    He grins. Wow. She’s actually making a joke.
    “No, really. Like Hal. I told you about him. He helped me escape from the hell-priest after I ran away from my father.” She leans in closer. “Hal is Rose’s . . . well, um, you know.”
    “Her husband?”
    “Oh, no. He’s her, um . . .” She gestures uselessly with one hand.
    “Her brother?”
    “No!”
    “Her lover?”
    The girl blushes and nods.
    At first, N’Doch thought she was uptight. He’s come to accept that it’s actual innocence, so he tries real hard now not to let her prissiness irritate him. But he can’t help pushing her just a little. Somebody’s got to teach her the ways of the world. “Go on, say it. He’s her
lover
.”
    She’s even touchier than usual. She glares at him from under her lashes, then bolts up and scurries away. N’Doch hasn’t expected quite this reaction. He’s left with empty seats on both sides of him and Sedou all the way across the room, in deep with the pale-haired healer woman, probably swapping secrets of the trade. But he decides that things are looking up. He’d had a moment of panic at the thought that no men at Deep Moor meant that these women didn’t like men. Now he feels free to entertain his fantasies of luring the spectacular and vivacious Raven into bed with him. Maybe he’s not going to mind it so much after all, being back here in 913. At least, for as long as the dragons will let him. He figures he’s gotta work fast.

    Erde escaped the embarrassing conversation with N’Doch and fled to a shadowed corner of the kitchen to wait for her blush to subside. Nervously tracing the stained grout lines between the stove tiles, she wondered why—after all she’d seen of life in the ungentle world of 2013—a certain subject was still so hard for her to talk about, especially with N’Doch. For, though he was like a brother to her, he was still very much a male. In fact, here in her world, he might even be labeled lecherous. But she’d seen how it was where he came from. People just said what they felt, right out, and looked where they wanted to look. There, she’d been the odd one out.
    But to be honest with herself, something she was trying harder to be lately, Erde had come to resent the extreme modesty of her upbringing. She envied N’Doch his worldly ease. She was sure he could answer just about any question she might ask about what really went on between men and women, and he’d have not the slightest qualm about filling in all the details. But she could not bring herself to have those conversations with him, no matter how curious she was, conversations she would have had with her mother, had