Chapter Three

THREE

Parisi

Winter, Year 420

O ne of the sprites , Sasha, has recommended that I record the details of my life, since much has happened, and there is much to look forward to in the birth of my child.

My story really begins at a much earlier time. We didn't keep to the tracking of years at that time, but I believe it was close to twenty-eight hundred years before this date, at the end of winter and one of the worse storms I'd seen.

"If I find you hiding ... by the stars and moon, how many rocks look like ewes and lambs? ... I swear by all I know that you'll be made into a stew faster than you can bleat. Aha!" I stumbled over yet another snow-covered mound, but this one made a feeble noise that was almost whipped away by the wind of the blizzard. Stinging, snow-laden wind burned the part of my face exposed from the cloak of wolfskin I clutched about my shoulders, and froze my fingers when I removed one fur glove to help the struggling form of the two lambs that were curled together under a small snow-laden shrub, their bodies almost frozen.

I pulled the twin lambs out, gave them a quick rub with one edge of my cloak to stimulate their body heat, and tucked them into the mound of furs that lay on top of my wooden sled. A quick search uncovered the corpse of their mother. "Poor thing. Looks like you did what you could to save your babies. I will also do what I can for them, although I make no promises," I told her before returning to the sled to thrust my hands under the furs. It was blissfully warm, so warm it called to me to climb in and take respite from the storm, but my responsibilities couldn't be so easily dismissed.

"Not when people are counting on me to bring back our missing flock. There should be only two more ewes out there," I told the three babies that were gently twitching under the furs. I wove the strongest spell over them that I could manage, half-frozen though I was, hoping it would give them a better chance to survive while I hunted for the missing sheep. "Let's hope the others are nearby. They should be. Ah, that looks like a—ack! What ... what are you? You're not a sheep!"

I had tripped and fallen over something long and, for a horrified moment, thought I'd squashed an innocent lamb, but as I scrambled off the object, the snow was disturbed and I recognized a fur-and-leather-booted foot as belonging to a man. "By the light, I hope you're not—ah. Your chest rises, although slowly. You must not be mortal."

Time seemed to creep by on painful, frozen feet as I worked to uncover the man. Although his face was partially covered by a cloak similar to the one I wore, I could see he had the high cheekbones of men from the Balkans.

"This may not be the most comfortable you've ever been," I said, grunting and gasping through the blasts of wind and snow as I dragged the unconscious man over to the sled. "But at least you'll have the lambs to keep you warm."

The act of shifting the lambs to the side so I could roll the man onto the sled left me breathless and trembling with exhaustion, but at last I had him on his back, with the lambs tucked around him before I covered them all with the furs.

I searched for what seemed like days but, in the end, found only one more ewe, although her lamb didn't fare as well as the others.

By the time I dragged the sled back to the roundhouses, the snow was up to my knees, and I couldn't feel anything below my breasts.

"By the grace of the sun and moon, you are back," called one of the cherubs as I staggered to a stop outside the biggest roundhouse, where most of the Court stayed when the weather was severe. The door we'd covered in wool to keep the wind out was flung open, and four people emerged, shivering and moaning about the storm. "What's this? A man?"

The furs had been peeled back as the Court members extracted the lambs and ewes before carrying them into the roundhouse.

"Yes, I found him near where the sheep had gone to lamb." I glanced up at the blistering white sky and gestured at one of the powers who stood next to me, gawking. "Take his feet. We'll carry him in and set him next to the fire."

I ignored the complaints of those who objected to the stranger being brought in, and half dragged, half carried him inside when the power—a man named Enoch—stood and watched me. I had to weave around the sheep, lambs, goats, and two pigs that resided inside with us, but at last I got the unconscious man settled on a pallet near the fire, and covered him with the furs the others brought in from the sled.

"Well," I said at last, sitting on my heels next to him, panting a little. "We all made it back whole. At least, I hope he's whole. Mags, can you—"

"I'll rub his feet and hands," she said, turning to a group of young cherubs who skulked behind her. "You three put more dung on the fire and warm up some of the nettle stew. My Sovereign, if you would check him for wounds, I'll pack warm stones around his feet and hands."

Despite my own freezing limbs, I scooted closer to the man, and gently, without exposing much of his flesh to the cold, I ran my hands over his neck, chest, arms, and belly. "I don't find any injuries," I told Mags as she wrapped linen around stones used to line the fire pit, and stuffed them under the furs. "Should I check his man parts?"

Mags stopped tucking the furs around his legs and shot me a questioning look. "Do you feel the need to check them?"

"Need?" I shifted uncomfortably, but that was due to my toes starting to come back to life, besetting my feet with what felt like the stings of a hundred bees. "No, not need, but ..."

"He is a comely man," she said, nodding. Absently, I brushed a bit of his hair that poked out from under the fur that more or less covered his torso and face. "I can understand you wanting to look, but until his body warms up, he should remain covered."

"That is true," I said, somewhat disappointed, because I had always enjoyed the sight of a fine man part, but knew that Mags was right. She had tended to members of the Court since I had taken over almost thirty-nine hundred moons past. "We will have to assume he's not been wounded there. Has someone warmed a cup of beer? I will see if he will take a few sips."

It took the rest of the day and all of the following before the man finally regained his senses. By then, the storm had subsided, and darkness filled the settlement along with the soft whispers of snow falling from trees and rocks.

I was curled up on my own pallet as night had claimed the land, but hadn't yet fallen asleep when the man spoke.

"You are the headwoman here?"

I rolled over to look into the darkness. The fire in the center of the roundhouse threw out a little light, but all I could see of the stranger was a black shape against a blacker wall.

"I lead all who reside here, yes," I answered softly, slipping out of my pallet to pad over to where he sat against the wall. "You are awake again. You've slept for a day and a half."

"I wasn't asleep the entire time." His voice was smooth as water sliding over polished rocks, making me feel as if my skin were too tight.

"You watched us?" I knelt down, absently reaching for the back of his neck as I had done so often since I had dragged him half-dead from the storm.

"I watched you. You have a curious name."

"Parisi?" I asked, my nose wrinkling, as I'd never been overly fond of it, but my mother said it had been her mother's name, so I kept it. "I was born a great distance from here, where the name is common."

"Parisi?" He sounded almost as if he were tasting the name. "I thought it was Sovereign."

"That's what I am, but not who," I said. "You do not have a fever."

He caught my hand as I withdrew it, spreading my curled fingers until our hands were pressed together, palm to palm. "What is a Sovereign?"

"A leader," I said, trying to see through the dark, but I got only fleeting glimpses of his face when the flames flickered with a swirl of air. "What are you called?"

"I am Desislav, known as Desi. My village is Karanovo, in the Balkans."

"That is a very great distance from here, as well," I said, and told him of the area in the Indus Valley where I was born. "How come you to be so far north?"

The silhouette of his shoulders moved. "Everyone seemed to be going north for the hunting. Like you, I am a leader, and it was decided to create entrances to our domain at ideal locations. What court do you preside over?"

I scooted myself over until I sat next to him on the pallet. The normal nighttime sounds filled the roundhouse along with the occasional tendril of smoke, everything from the snoring of the seneschal to the murmurs of the chickens, goats, and sheep contained in the opposite side of the roundhouse. It was still too cold to leave them outside, as well as those members of the Court who lived in less opulent domiciles. "It is named the Court of Divine Blood. Have you heard of it? We take care of mortal beings."

He jerked to the side, half-turning to face me. "Mortals? You think I am not mortal?"

"Of course you're not," I said, tucking a leg under me and edging one of the skins he'd been using over me. It was still bitterly cold inside the roundhouse despite the sleeping forms of eight other Court members and the dozen or so animals. "No mortal man could survive the storm as you did."

"The storm ..." His voice stopped as I saw the shadow of his hand apparently running through his hair. "I remember the snow beginning to fall, but I do not remember a storm. You saved me?"

"Yes."

"Why?" The word contained an interesting mix of curiosity and appreciation.

I thought for a moment. "Because it's what we do. The Court was created to aid those mortal—and immortal—beings who need help."

He gave a short bark of laughter that had a couple of the sleepers mumbling and rolling over.

"What do you find so funny about that?" I asked in a whisper.

"Irony," he answered, then, to my surprise, tried to get to his feet. I jumped up as he wobbled for a few seconds, and held out my hands to steady him. He took them in his, and for a moment, I thought he was simply regaining his balance, but his next words drove that thought out of my head. "When I said I was Desislav of Karanovo, I should have added that I am also the founder and premiere prince of Abaddon, and you, fair Parisi, are now my prisoner."