Free No Flame But Mine by Tanith Lee

dangerously bad weather, he summoned fire. He could even, for a joke if it were wanted, turn water to beer, iron to silver and silver to gold and – best of all – snow to fire. Well, if the dad was Attajos, how not?
    Arok, saved from the White Death by Chillel’s charms, Arok who had watched Dayadin grow faster than any other child he had known, and likewise Fenzi – Arok sat on the fence between the two courts of belief and doubt.
    â€˜We never saw the lad before. Maybe a sorcerer got him on her—’
    â€˜The Simese king says the god, and that the god asked his, the king’s, agreement first.’
    â€˜A likely idea. Please may I beg to borrow the sweetmeat of your wife. What damn barbarian god ever thought to do that?’
    Fenzi did not argue. He had known Curjai for a god instantly. That was that; why scramble about?
    â€˜There are no gods.’ Arok was irritable. ‘There is God . Aside from Him there are sprites and demons.’
    â€˜Did God not make all things?’ had asked Fenzi equably.
    â€˜So you were taught. At least I trust you were.’
    â€˜So I was. Thus, if God created all, men and demons and the rest, why not create gods too?’
    â€˜ Gods ? Why?’
    â€˜To save Himself a little of the work.’
    Despite this Arok and the Simese king made themselves sociable with each other, as did the Jafn and Simese warriors and definitely some of the Jafn and the Simese court maidens.
    Arok had meant to despatch a messenger to inform the garth of his whereabouts.
    The Simese king declared he would send some of his own men to do it, save Arok the bother. No doubt the king wished to note the virility of the garth, while keeping the rest of its warriors busy in Padgish. Arok worried. His men seemed only glad to go on roistering in the jolly palace, which had underfloor heating from braziers and pipes and several other luxuries. Not to mention exotic horses and girls.
    â€˜Why must we stay, why do they want us,’ Arok said to Khursp and Fenzi, ‘save to try us out and subdue us?’
    â€˜Their young prince seems to like us.’
    Khursp said darkly, ‘I asked this prince how his mother came by her copper hair. The boy says to me, Oh, are there none in your continent with red hair? I answer. Only one: he’s dead. I’ve heard of something like that, says the prince. He meant that scourge, that gler-get fiend the Lionwolf. And Curjai does know of him, I swear he does, but not from us. There was a sort of laughter in his eyes.’
    Back in the exercise court and reaching the tub, Sombrec plunged in. Then Fenzi.
    Presently Sombrec gave in, and asked a question.
    Fenzi smiled. ‘Among the Jafn too, with warriors who like each other that way, it’s not uncommon. Why don’t you swim a little nearer?’
    Riadis was combing her hair, that talking-point. Curjai, Escurjai among his friends and intimates, stood watching her, so far unseen.
    All at once a flurry of purple jewels formed in a garland round her brow.
    She laughed with delight, and saw her son then in her second mirror of real glass.
    â€˜How long will this diadem last?’
    â€˜As long as you want, Mother. As long as love lasts.’
    He was especially himself today, she saw: he glowed – like the fire.
    â€˜Love,’ she said, playful. ‘Does that then last?’
    â€˜Though the world’s cold,’ he said, ‘living hearts are warm as flame.’
    Riadis thought abruptly of how, those years ago, she had gone to her private interview with the king her husband, proud and sure, telling him straight out the god of fire again demanded use of her. The latest burn raved rawly on her leg; she knew that already her womb was filled. ‘I have heard of your mad dreamings,’ said the king. ‘You said the last one was the fruit of Attajos. Another than I would have killed you outright for fornication.’
    â€˜Another,’ had said