Durk’s Treasure

* Durk’s Treasure

 

    Smoke from the burning village brought him out of his hidden cottage to this bluff. Raiders have destroyed their homes, burning and killing. Looking to the west, the fires from the farmhouses that were in between this township and the next are growing. The only other settlement in this isolated place would soon burn from the blood lust of raiders as they sweep through. Without any villages left to trade in, this winter will be tough. It will be the way of the wolf again for a while.

 

    Mounting his horse, Durk decides to go see if he can find anything to use. Since all the people were dead, bartering wouldn’t be as difficult. Remembering last season when he traded with them he had to point and make hand gestures to get them to understand what he wanted.

 

     The steep trail wound down the mountain. When he gets close to the township, he stays in the trees searching for danger. Stepping from his mount at the edge of the village Durk draws his sword waiting for what he can’t see. The dead are everywhere, their bloody wounds remind him of the horrors on the battlefields. Most of the fires are almost out. The mixed smells of burnt wood, flesh and lamp oil waft on the gentle breeze that keeps the coals hot.

 

      Some furs and skins lay on the ground unspoiled. A sword as fine as his own with a hand still attached is claimed as prize for his day of searching. Some copper pots the raiders missed, a few shields and an axe that has been used no doubt to hopelessly ward off the attacks.

 

     Durk lashes some poles and the shields to his horse to carry all he can’t heft by himself. Loading his saddle he can take more, choosing to walk home.

 

     He spends most of the day looking through the rubble. Looking past the carnage claiming what he wants. This winter might not be as bad as he thought. Walking to the stream for a drink after all his work, Durk rests. For his own protection to keep from being haunted by more ghosts, Durk avoids looking at any more of the bodies except the one that is nearest to him.  

The way the arms and legs twist it almost doesn’t look human.

 

     When it moves his heart jumps, he scrambles to his feet ready to do battle. The raiders have trampled this one into the slimy mud after cutting him…. no wait, cutting her down.

 

      She will die soon enough from her wounds leave her and go. Durk turns his back and starts to walk away, “Help me” this froze him where he stood. Whatever she said is barely a whisper. He can’t ignore the muffled plea in her broken voice.

 

 

 

~*2*~

    Trying to pick her up she scream in pain. Her body has defied the fates to remain in the world of the living, as she is mostly dead. Forcing mud into her wounds and binding them to stop the bleeding is all he can do for her at the moment.

 Bringing his horse closer he still needs to carry her to it. Her broken leg dangles from her like it belongs to someone else but it is still attached to her nonetheless.

 

   Strapping what’s left of her to the skid as if she is one more deer from the hunt. Durk shakes his head, he knows she is already dead, her body just does not know it yet.

 

     Starting for home, he knows this is a waste of efforts but he can’t let her die alone. She needs to die knowing someone was trying to help her. This might keep her spirit from haunting his dreams.

 

  Thick forests conceal him from everything except the demons of his past. They still haunt him deep into the night. Only the ghosts of the slain dwell. After all these years of living alone, only his sword and the echoes of screams in his native tongue are his own.

 

    Now killing men is repugnant to be done to survive in this hostile land.

 

   While the horse plods back up the mountain, the poles bounce in the ruts and over the rocks.  When her fading moans fall silent, Durk is sure she has crossed over but he can’t bear to look on the face of death just yet so he keeps walking.

 

    The cottage he lives in had once been the home of another man. Durk found his bones and buried them. He will put her body with them when he gets there. Stopping outside the shack, the time has come. There is no need to bring death back into what is now his only sanctuary so he’ll take her out to the burial mound straight away.

 

    Pulling his blade Durk cuts the knots on the ropes reaching for her body she should be colder by now but when he lifts her she moans. No, this is just the voice of the spirit leaving, when someone moves the bodies of the recent dead. The heel of her broken leg hits the ground and she draws in a sharp breath as if waking from the death sleep. Bending low Durk listens for more signs of life when her lips move again he knows she is still clinging to her last day.

 

    He takes her inside to his bed. Doing his best to straighten her leg laying it out the way it is suppose to be. Her eyes stop fluttering from the twinges of pain when he props a small roll of furs behind her knees.

 

     To keep her leg from flopping to the side he ties both feet together then binds them to the rail just to hold them in place. Tying her arms to the head post closes the wounds near her shoulder and keeps her still.

 

   

~*3*~

     Durk uses his blade to cut her clothes away. Plenty of water turns the cakes of dirt back into mud, finally washing it from her. The slashes left by a sword are a little harder to clean without making them worse but Durk has mended himself enough to know what needs to be done.  

 

     Dumping his medicine bag on the table, he searches for the powder that numbs. Durk heads out to the refuse pile searching for some of the small white worms that ward off the fever demon. They will guard the entrance where the demon will sneak in. Packing as many of them into the gashes Durk wraps cloth tightly around the arm and shoulder disguising the wounds as burns. This might fool the demon when it comes looking.

 

     Now for the leg, some of the dried bones of the dead bear might still have the power to remind her body how to heal. He has seen this magic done by the witches in his homeland. He must also add sticks into the wraps beside the bones or the blessings will not come.

 

     Boiling some ugly-root, berry leafs and fenta stems makes the soup for a weak body. Then cold water from a cloth will fool the raven spirits so they won’t take her breath while she sleeps. Back in his land, the women took care of other women. There is none to do this thing; he must touch she that is not his wife. Durk will pray for her grandmothers to guide his hands and the honors of the grandfathers to keep him from finding pleasure in this. If he does not touch her with his sword-hand, maybe the man-spirit in his loins will remain asleep.

 

    He will cover her with the powerful bearskin and look away after each washing because he already finds her pleasing to his eyes. Durk sits with his back to her holding an arrow in each hand they will not sneak empty to her until the grandmothers come to help him.

 

    She must be getting stronger from the medicines because he can now see her in his mind even with his eyes closed. Her moans of pain are those of a faithful wife but he must not be deceived. His heart quickens with every sound she makes. Please Grandfathers hurry. He can’t wait any longer she needs more cool water on her skin, or does he just need to see more of her.

 

    With the raiders still in these lands, he must wait until the skies darken before he can start a fire. The smoke plums are probably how they found the villages in the first place.

 

     While Durk is getting more water from the spring, she wakes feeling the pain for the first time since the attack. Finding herself tied to the bed stripped of her clothes she panics. Durk returns to find her struggling at her bonds like a snared fox. If she doesn’t stop moving, she will make herself bleed again. Now that she is awake, he must get some of the soup into her.

 

~*4*~

   Knowing she can’t understand him doesn’t matter, she will hear the tone in his voice. He can’t go too fast with each spoon full so he waits until she says something before giving her another.

 

“Why do you have me tied to your bed?”

 

The vegetables will also give her body strength.

 

“Where are my clothes you bastard?”

 

She must be thanking him for the warm blanket.

 

“Where is my family; I want to see my momma.”

 

If he shows her how he has fixed her leg maybe she will stop struggling.

 

“Yes, that’s it untie me, no-no don’t cover my legs back up, untie me now.”

 

Now if he shows her how he stopped the bleeding on her arm she will understand he is a friend.

 

“Stop feeding me, this is nasty, do you eat this crap too?”

 

If she won’t eat any more show her how the water is helping her.

 

“You son of a bitch that’s what you want, don’t touch me.”

 

If he hurries he can have all of her secret parts washed before she goes back to sleep so she knows he is being honorable.

 

“Stop that you bastard no one touches me there.”

 

Now wash her chest and her belly.

 

“Don’t touch me there either, you like that don’t you; why aren’t you looking if you are pleasuring yourself with this?”

 

There, now cover her body and finish her arms and face.

 

“When I get loose I’m gonna cut you with your own blade.”

 

Rinse the cloth again so the grit will not scratch her face.

 

“Hey I know you; you’re the mountain hunter, the foreigner that trades fresh meat and skins.”

 

Now that she is calm see if she is ready for more soup.

 

“This is all you’re gonna give me isn’t it; you know you can’t cook worth a shit can you?” *

 

~*5*~

    With a gentle hand, he cools her face and arms this confused her even more. Untying her broken arm and setting it with the bones and wooden sticks made her relax even more. These were not the actions of a cruel man. With care he cools her legs and feet. While he starts a warming fire she thinks, this man could not have been involved in the attack but why is he taking care of her? Where is her mother and father or her little brothers, why are they not here? The throbbing pain along with her fearful thoughts makes her cry as she stares up into the shadows on the ceiling.

 

     In the morning, Durk wakes to find the girl is gone. He has stayed next to her while awaiting the fever demon. His knife is missing so at the very least he must get it back. She’s probably trying to get home. Tracking her is easy enough with her dragging one foot through the forest. She hasn’t even gone the right way. Looking ahead of her trail, he sees her on the ground.

 

     She has tried to put her dress on but between the attack and Durk cutting it from her, its mere rags now, draped over her head dangling loose. More of her is exposed to the cold than covered by the tattered cloth. Wondering if she is still alive, he speaks.

 

    She has been laying face down but when she hears his voice, she turns and points the knife at him as if she is in danger. Durk knows the poor girl is scared and alone. She is barely twenty and about to discover not only has her family been killed but everyone in the entire valley. Durk does not want to hurt her anymore but she needs to know the truth.

 

     Squatting near her, he waits for her to realize she can’t go on. Her refusal to give up or admit defeat is admirable. When her hard breathing slows, he sees her hand waiver from the chill. Finally, Durk points the other direction letting her know she is lost on top of everything else. When she figures out what he is telling her, she drops her hand to her lap exhausted. He removes the thin coat he put on to come look for her. Holding it out as an offering, he also holds out his other hand asking for his hunting knife.

 

    With an unfriendly pout, she agrees handing him the knife. Her eyes follow him as he stands sheathing his blade. She knows she is no match for his power even if she was whole. Durk drapes the coat over her shoulders, scooping her into his arms he stands. Her weight is nothing to him.
 

 

~*6*~

   Instead of going to the cottage, he continues past, heading for the overlook. Climbing onto the jutting rocks, she can see the valley below. He turns his face away; he doesn’t need to look at it again. Waiting until she begins to cry he climbs down. With every step, her cries grow until she is hopelessly sobbing.
 

   Knowing he just destroyed her world wounds something inside him. Durk pulls her closer to him. She lays her head against his chest as her sobbing turns to pitiful whimpers. Back in the cottage, he gently lays her in the bed. As he covers her with the blanket, she rolls away hiding her face. Covering her with the bearskin, it’s somehow appropriate to cover her head too giving her a private place to grieve.

 

    Durk went outside pulling the door closed behind him. When he noticed he didn’t hear anything from her he checked. She has cried herself to sleep. With the danger of the raiders on his mind, Durk feels compelled to ride out looking for signs of them.

     His horse is still young but skilled enough to keep silent when Durk rubs his neck. A careful eye shows the forest as it should be. Grazing deer in the distance are better than the sharp ears of a dog. As long as the deer are calm, no one is rooting around in that direction. The sounds of the birds making their usual calls make him breathe easier. Durk can’t speak their language either but he has learned to listen to them nonetheless. He can even tell when the hawks or owls are hunting by the squawking of the wrens.

 

     Durk feels a special kinship to the bear. The meat feeds him the furs keep the heavy snows from killing him. Seeing them move at their usual slow pace across the valley is the final sign he needs to know in his heart they are safe again at least for a while.

 

      Caring for this woman is changing the way he looks at things. He has a purpose now and strangely he likes this feeling.

 

    Deciding she needs some fresh air, he prepares a soft place for her to rest near his outside cooking fire. Throwing the door open he finds her sitting up in bed still hiding under the skins.

 

    He knows some type of introduction is needed.  While standing at the foot of the bed he tries making the first steps. She still looks weary of him but hopefully this will change.

“Durk” he points to himself, “Durk”

She understands what he is doing so she points to herself, “My name is Lacy, Lacy.”

Durk is proud of himself for starting some kind of relationship with Lacy. He wants her to come outside but they will need to rely on hand gestures until they can learn the others ones language.

 

 

 

 

 

 ~*7*~ 

    Without any warning, he steps around close to her and strips back the blanket.

She grabbed it back quickly.  Her eyes flash wild. He knows she is thinking the worst of him at this moment. Getting an idea Durk holds up his hand asking her to wait. Grabbing one of his deerskin shirts, he strips the blanket back again. Lacy cringes and closes her eyes. A squeak escapes her and makes Durk chuckle. Tapping her shoulder until she opens her eyes he presents her with the shirt smiling. Pulling at the rag of a dress, he doesn’t think about modesty since he has already seen her fully exposed to his hands.

 

     The dress is gone before she can object further but she tries to cover her nakedness. He can’t fish her arms through the sleeves as long as she is clutching her breasts. Without thinking, he growls at her like a bear. Her arms instantly go limp as if there is magic power in his deep voice. Once the shirt is on her he smiles as if he has created a masterpiece.

 

    This shirt is as long on her as her dress was but the large neck hole shows most of her chest just above her young breasts.

 

      Until the magic in her wrap mends her leg she will need to be carried everywhere. The slash to her shoulder and her broken arm won’t let Lacy resist what ever he wants of her. Therefore, without any resistance he carries her out to sit in the afternoon sun.

 

    Durk has bound three spears together over his cooking fire. Hanging from a small chain is a piece of deer meat. The smell of it cooking is making her stomach rumble. Closing her eyes Lacy tips her face into the light of the sun, smelling the deer takes her back to a happier day when her father cooked deer for Mom and her brothers. The pain of remembering they are gone grips her again but this time there are no more tears. There is a numbing hollow in her chest and an aching in her arms. Never again would she feel the warmth of their kisses. She somehow feels guilty for surviving. As if living is somehow a betrayal.

 

“Lacy” she opens her eyes and Durk is kneeling on one leg beside her. The cooked deer is in a wooden bowl between them. Durk cuts a strip offering it to her. Although her stomach tells her to eat, her heart doesn’t want it. He offers it a second time and she shakes her head. Durk makes a sound that is almost a growl and not quite a grunt.

     Touching the meat to his own lip to test for heat, he blows on it and feeds it to her as if she is a stubborn child.

 

      Even chewing is painful but the hunger in her will put up with the pain as long as she keeps eating. Durk is smiling and for some reason she can’t help but smile back at him.

     Lacy lets herself look closer at Durk. He has small scars on his face probably from past fights. Three long scars on his neck look as though a bear had tried to make a meal of him. His arms are covered with scars and burns. The gouges in his thick armbands let her know there would have been far more scars if it weren’t for his armor. His thick hair looked as if it belonged to the brown cave-bears only longer in the back.

 

    Durk kept smiling at Lacy as she ate. Her hair is the color of the clouds with the sun shining through. Her eyes aren’t quite blue, more the gray of the wolves eyes. She is pretty wearing his shirt the wind blowing her long hair is begging for him to touch it. 

 

~*8*~

     He forgot to pray to the grandfathers to keep his thoughts pure. When he realized what his mind is doing to her, he stands back as if she growled at him.

 

     Lacy frowns, wondering why he pulled away so quickly he has taken the knife with him. Holding out her hand,

“Durk let me have the knife so I can cut the meat; that, in your hand, Knife”

 

     He gives her his blade trying to repeat what she called it, “kniff” quickly moving away.

 

     He walks off mumbling to himself not hearing Lacy correct his pronunciation.

She can’t figure what made him jump away so fast or why he keeps looking around as if he misplaced something among the trees.

 

    As night falls it has them settling in. Durk stretches out on a pile of furs near the fireplace trying to get comfortable. Lacy watched him turn one-way then the other. Every time he turns, she hears him groan just a little.

She is use to sleeping with her mother and being in bed alone is just wrong. He won’t try anything while she is hurt. He is now the closest thing to family she has. The bed is big enough for both of them so she moves over and tucks the blanket around herself, “Durk, Durk, come lay down.”

 

     He looks at her when he hears his name but isn’t sure what she wants until she pats the bed. Shaking his head he turns away, glancing up at the ceiling; he starts mumbling again.

 

     Durk tries and tries to get comfortable. Now that she is asleep and the fire has almost completely burned out he is getting cold on the floor. Stealing another glace at Lacy on the other side of the bed. If he kept his back to her, it will be alright to sleep near her. Promising to get up before she wakes up in the morning. It’s not as if he is going to touch her. She’s weak, wounded and won’t even know he is there. Easing into bed, he hugs the rail but this is so much warmer than the floor.

 

“Good night Durk, sweet dreams.”

 

~*9*~

 

 Most mornings Durk woke before the sun. Listening to the trees drip on the roof or the corners of the cottage whispering as the spirits in them faded back into the dream world.
   This morning when he opened his eyes, the cottage is still as dark as if his eyes were closed. The first thing he notices is the sound of Lacy breathing. He didn’t want to move only listen. How can the sound of breathing be so beautiful; but it thrills him. The smell of her hair, she is that close.

     Durk realizes he is facing the little angel that’s why he can smell her softness. Fighting the voice in his head, he must pull away now. Enjoying her while she sleeps is a dishonor to them both.
     The darkness in the room isn’t a problem for him as he can see every part of it in his memory. His toes sidestep the leg of the table and chairs. His hands come to rest on the flint and tinderbox right where he left them. Durk has been making morning fires his whole life but he is still amazed how a single spark can erase all the shadows at once. It is as bright as the sun for an instant then swallowed again into the black. A few more and the tiny flame is his prize. The yellow light dances on the wood pulling more flames out of them.
   The fire is still small when he hears, “Morning Durk.”
This makes him smile breathing in a shiver. The fire is too new to have caused it so it must be her.
“Dawnto Lacy”
He still isn’t use to talking in the morning so hearing his own voice is as strange as hers. Filling one of the copper pots with water, he slides it into the fire so he can make more of the medicine tea.
   Lacy hears the water pore into the pot, she frowns and pinch her legs together.
“Durk, help me up please”
He sees her reaching for him so he thinks she wants to sit by the fire.
“No Durk not here, I gotta go pee”
After Lacy points to herself, down low and to the door. The surprise on his face lets her know he understands.
     Getting her outside the sky is the color of ash, he can barely make out the trees and logs. Leaning her against a tree, he steps away quickly turning his back. Lacy calls to him and shook her head pointing at her leg. Durk runs into the house, a moment later he returns with one of the chairs and a small shield. Lacy is biting her lip by now so he slams the chair against the tree, pushes the shield into the dirt in front of it to protect her feet. Pulling his knife Durk slashes an “X” across the wicker reeds breaking most of them away.
     In his haste to help her he even lifts her shirt, setting her down then running off to hide his own red face. Scolding himself for not thinking of this sooner Durk kicks dust up with his feet while he waits.
    Once they settle back inside, he makes her the tea to fight the demons. As Durk offers the tea to Lacy, she grabs the front of his shirt, pulling him closer for a kisses on the cheek then shoves him away quickly. Durk knows he did something right but he isn’t sure what is yet.

 

 ~*10*~

    This turns into a morning routine, one kiss on the cheek before every cup of healing tea. He still thinks it’s for the medicine and not for the quick rides outside.
    After a few weeks, Durk takes the splint off her arm but ties it to her waist as a reminder not to use it until it has soaked up enough strength from the sun. The wraps on her shoulder are next to come off but her leg will take longer to mend.
     Most of the time Lacy perches on a bench and keeps an eye on Durk cutting and stacking wood before the long winter comes. She has taken over most of the cooking, which has Durk very happy.

 

“Durk, when can I take this off my leg?”

 

“Lacy needs sunshine ten days more.”

 

“When this comes off I want a bath and go for a walk.”

 

“I know this walk is good, say to me bath”

 

She used this as another lessons in speaking

“What, is, a, bath?”

 

“Tell Durk what a bath is; but you say bath slow, talk too fast, yack-yack-yack make my ears hurt, you finish I do not still know.”

 

“Well a bath is a way to wash whole body.”

 

“River day, wash you tomorrow”

 

“No Durk the river is cold a bath is hot water in a tub…..amm, like a big cooking pot.”

 

“Cook Lacy, You tell me a more jokes no?”

 

“No not to cook…. a boat, like a small boat but you put water in the boat to wash.”

 

“Water heavy, river better, wash-wash give you blanket.”

 

“No that’s not the point.”

 

Durk came over and sat next to lacy,

“Get water on fire make cooking hot, pore in boat, put you in boat and wash you slow.”

     Lacy explains the memories of the baths her mother helped her take by the fire.

Durk listened but she wasn’t sure he understood the boat wasn’t going to move. She told him how small the bathing tub could be and how warm it would be by the fire. Durk pays attention with a frown on his face then chuckled to himself.

 

~*11*~

     For the next few days, he was busy but she couldn’t tell what he was doing as he left her alone at the cottage most of the day.

 “Durk what are you doing when you leave?”

 

“Five days more I cook Lacy, Ha, you see I make you washing tub for hot water.”

“I’m not sure you understood what I meant.”

 

“I can make fine jokes too, I want potatoes and salt with Lacy”

 

She flings a rock at him but he is too agile. At dinner, he would take a sip of his stew,

“MMM, Lacy good……cook ha ha”

 

She points her knife at him but all he does is lift his chin, showing her where to insert the blade. Every day when he came back he would call for her and make duck sounds. That night he unrolled four of the bear hides he was going to trade.

“Lacy-duck, you want bath tomorrow?”

 

“Oh yes”

 

“Come here, we check you leg”

 

     Durk knelt down in front of her and pulled his knife. He had adjusted the wrap a few times but now he was going to take it completely off. He made her promise to use the stick he gave her for ten more days.

     She was so glad to get the wrap off her leg she would have promised him anything. When it came loose and she was able to bend her knee, she hugged him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, I know use the stick for ten more days.”

She wanted to kiss him on the cheek but he turned to look at his sheath and she kissed him right on the mouth. It was like a contest as to who could be more embarrassed turning bright red before looking away.

“In the morning you stay here, when I come get Lacy-Duck for cooking, ha”

 

She could hardly wait for tomorrow to come. Even through all his jokes, she knew he had made something nice for her.

 

 In the morning, the light of the fire showed Durk was already gone. She fixed a morning meal for both of them waiting for him to return. The door flies open and he grabs two blankets and one of the bench seats.

“Not bath yet, please wait for, not yet”

 

Lacy chuckled when the door closed and he was gone again. She went ahead and ate. Tapping her fingers on the table wondering what kind of tub he had made. Thinking about the wood available, she shook her head.  In her head, she saw him cut down a tree hollowing it out, maybe not. “What is taking so long?” *

 

~*12*~

     Durk walks in like the conquering hero. The grin on his face is almost smug.

“Come my little duck I make you soup now.”

As they leave the cottage, Lacy grabs a clean shirt tucking it under her arm. Durk gives her the walking stick. It’s hard for Durk not to run off and leave her on the trail to the river. Lacy’s smile mingles in the anticipation of seeing what Durk has made and watching him jitter along the path.

 

Hearing the river dance over the rocks Lacy looked up from the path and it almost became a mistake when she slipped. Durk had been leading the way and turned. Impatiently he coaxed her.  Seeing her slip erased the smile on his face. With blinding speed, he stood in front of her. Lacy reached forward instinctively searching for anything to hold her up. Finding the granite in his chest made her heart beat even faster.

“Lacy walk like a duck too; I hold with you”

Staying one-step ahead of her, she rests a hand on his shoulder. Her pulse should have slowed but it doesn’t. The sensation of feeling his hard muscles moving and flexing so gracefully reminded her of a great stallion. This has a different sense about it as he isn’t touching her but she voluntarily has her hand on him.

     Lacy is lost in thought, her heart and stomach are fluttering so she doesn’t notice when they reach their destination. When Durk stops, she doesn’t remove her hand and leans on him a little more. He reaches back to bring her around in front of him so she can see and their arms lock them in an open embrace.

     Just a few steps back from the waters edge Durk has built a hut out of thin branches and covered it with the bear hides. Off to the side he has a fire going under one of the larger copper kettles. Lacy’s face beams as it takes shape in her understanding. The doorway on the hut faces the river so she can look out and watch the flowing waters. On the other side of the doorway, the skins don’t go all the way to the ground and a second smaller fire is burning.

“Bath by fire to stay warm.”

“Where’s the tub?”

“Inside small house I not see Lacy-duck, all alone.”

She walks around to the opening and inside Durk has dug a flat bottom hole in the sand lining it with stitched deer hides with one of the blankets folded on the bottom.

“Deer keep water in you tub not go into dirt; keep dirt off you.”

“Oh Dirk its wonderful.”

“Look more inside for you.”

Durk has placed the bench seat inside for her to sit on. It will keep her clothes and blanket off the ground.

“I bring hot water in bucket put here and go away; little duck puts more hot water in tub.”

 

~*13*~

     She pulls him close and purposely kisses him on the lips this time making him blush. Durk looks softly at her trying to make his eyes tell her what his words can’t explain.

   The little bathing hole was half-full of water already when he gently pushed her inside.

“I go get more water first.”

Durk ladles water into a bucket and sets it just inside the opening of the hut. The crunch of his feet in the dirt let her know he is stepping away giving her all the privacy she wants.

     With Durk standing only a short distance away, removing her dress like shirt feels like she is removing her clothes for him. This makes her breath heavy as if she is frightened but this is excitement. Even though he has seen her naked while he mended her broken bones, this is the first time she wishes he would come back and look at her again.

     The water in the tub is a bit cool so she quickly adds the hot setting the empty bucket outside for him to bring more. Easing into the tub along with the thoughts she is having makes her moan quietly with pleasure.

The crunching of his feet on the miniature pebbles announced his return. The skins on the hut don’t quite go all the way to the ground so when she sees his boots she sits up straight and proud of her gifts. Waiting for him to look inside to see if she is enjoying her bath, she holds her breath. However, he doesn’t look; only a quick hand grabbing the rope on the bucket and he walks back to the fire. She pouts a little but grins knowing he is honoring her by going to such great lengths to make sure she has a private, enjoyable bath.

     She finds the soap and clothe he left for her and scrubs herself from head to toe. When Durk brings the next bucket, hanging on the side of it is a flask of rose oil. She recognizes the hourglass shaped clay jar but in the past, her family had been too poor. Fine oils like this are for Queens and ladies of the court.

     Breaking it open, she pores half of it into the tub. The other half she nestles into the dirt so it doesn’t fall over saving it for later. The smell of roses makes her think of springtime instead of early fall. The heat of the tiny fire relaxes her where she now purring like a cat. Lifting each leg out of the water, she likes the slight bite of the cool air closing her eyes she begins to imagine Dirks whiskers on them. Tipping her head back, she scoops and trickles handfuls of the scented water down her neck and over her breasts.

     Did he enjoy looking at her? Would she enjoy him touching her again? If he reaches for her, will she melt in his strong hands?

“Lacy-girl you like you bath; I make good bath no?”

“Oh Durk it’s wonderful, the best bath I have ever had. How can I ever say thank you for this?”

“I like kisses; lip kisses are my best, ah…”

“Your favorite?”

“Yes my favorite, pretty-duck kisses.”

“When I’m done I think we can find one or two of those for you.”

“Two”

“What?”

“Find two, three would be better but two is good.”

“Do you want them now?”

“NO”

Durk takes off not knowing she is joking but imagining the look on his face makes her giggle. *

~*14*~

     After drying herself and squeezing the water from her hair, Lacy slipped into the clean shirt. She notices this one isn’t as long as the other one. This shirt only covers half of her thighs but she decides she doesn’t care. Picking up the broken flask of scented oil, she trails some of it between her breasts and near other places under her hem.

     Stepping out of the hut Durk had been using some of the hot water to wash himself and if she had come out a moment sooner she would have seen more of him than she thought she might. He has removed his shirt but she had seen him this way many times, as he worked. Hearing Lacy approaching he quickly ties the laces at his waist and turns to face her. The breeze hasn’t dried him yet and his fuzzy body glistens in the sun. Tiny droplets of water nestled in the hair on his chest and arms glitter as diamonds.

     With the blanket still over her shoulders, she uses one end to dry his face.

An idea catches in her and she dabs her finger into the oil, smearing traces of it onto him. The fetching grin she now wears is growing, as her finger gets bolder. Durk purposely swells up like a bull-elk posturing for his mate. Reaching up to touch some of the oil to his neck the bothersome hem of her shirt rides up a bit to far. She quickly tugs it back down drawing even more attention to her legs. Durk bends lower so it won’t ride up quite so high but when she focuses on his neck, he quickly steals a kiss. Proud of his larceny he announces, “One”

She splashes the last drizzle of oil on him in a playful huff,

“That’s not fair, I wasn’t ready.”

 

“I want the one then Lacy-duck”

 

     Lacy looks around then walks away. At first Durk thinks she is discussed, until she stands on a rock beckoning him to follow. Dramatically she wraps her arms around his neck. He instinctively brings his hands up to her waist but since she is standing on the rock he finds her naked thighs instead. The pleasant surprise changes his smile once again. Squeezing her leg twice to warn her he slowly slides his finger up under the tail of the shirt.

     When his fingers get dangerously close to her butt, the pert smile on her face draws a warning of her own as it changes to a playful pout.

“Durk”

Innocently he plays ignorant to why she is warning him,

“Yes pretty-duck?”

This is too cute for her and she forcefully gives him the kiss. Durk’s reason quickly succumbs to his hunger and he changes the friendly reward into a man staking his claims.

    Lacy has never known the touch of a man like this and it sears deep into her memory as it melts her heart. Crushing her closer to him he forces his way past her lips. Wanting more of him she franticly grabs at his hair moaning her surrender to his will. This kiss that has stopped time for them is reveling promises of things to come and a bond that will never be broken. As he slowly pulls back, all her thoughts disconnect aimlessly swimming in her head. When she opens her eyes he has transformed into her prince.

Pausing between hard breaths he whispers, “One.”

Resting her forehead on his she agrees,

“Yes, one”

The one she will never forget. She has already decided to give him all the kisses he wants and more but he must teach her these strange new ways, “Yes my handsome man, one, only for you.” *

~*15*~

     Durk is still reliving Lacy’s kiss in his mind while helping her up to the cottage. She isn’t the only one that will never forget that moment. His lips flush red with desire. When they get just a few steps from the door Durk stops knowing if they go inside now there will be no stopping him from ravishing her. A beautiful kiss is one thing but has she given herself to him or does he just wish it?

 

“Lacy I must not go in there now.”

 

“Why not”

 

“I want more with you, but I must ask you bid me come to you.”

 

“But it’s your house I’m your guest.”

 

Durk turns and holds both of her hands but he can’t look her in the eye. The words he struggles with will never come if he does so he stares at her pretty fingers instead.

 

“I sinned against you in my mind many days as I do now. I brought you here to die but you did not. I looked upon you without permission while doing the healing magic.”

 

“I know you were helping me and it couldn’t be helped.”

 

“I did far more to you in my thoughts and…”

 

Lacy smiled knowing he needed to confess to her what he thought was a great sin. She squeezed his fingers and tipped her head so he has no choice but to look at her face.

 

“Durk I have thought of you many days and nights too. So you might say I have sinned against you as well.”

 

    Understanding she finds no fault in him makes him feel better.

 

“I wish this to be your house…. with me.”

 

“Are you asking me to be your wife Durk?”

He hadn’t found the courage yet to ask her. Knowing if the answer was no it would crush him and change everything they had together. His mouth moves as if he wants to say something but he can’t find the words he has longed to tell her.

 

“I have, ah want for…. you since, ah yes, Yes I want you be my woman in this house always.”

     He doesn’t believe he finally told her and now his breath catches in him wondering what her answer will be. She is honored he asked with such humble eyes and amused by his squirming so she acts as if she must think about it for a moment.

 

“I never thought about being anyone’s wife before.”

 

Dirk thinks she is telling him no in a gentle way.

 

“Oh, so you don’t want…”

 

“Wait, I said I never thought about it before. Now that’s all I think about everyday. Yes Durk, Yes I want to be your woman for always.”

 

     He starts shaking as it sinks in she wants him. All the lonely nights are gone. He didn’t need to pray to the Grandfathers to forgive his thoughts any more. Now he can share everything with her for all of time.

     Durk takes his hands out of her gasp and squeezes her close to him. Wrapping his arms around her with love in his heart, he is now looking deep into her blue eyes.

 

“I want you for always and I want my two kiss now, may I give it to my Lacy-Duck?”

 

“Yes my husband, kiss me and make me your woman.”

 

    There are no Priests or Clerics to join them. Yet in their heart’s they have become one. The second Kiss is better than the first. Lacy gives herself to him wrapping her arms around him she doesn’t care if they are the last two people on earth she will always be happy in his arms and in his heart. Durk kisses her again and again loosing track after ten or twelve. *

~*16*~

   Feeling Durk’s arms almost crushing her makes Lacy feel as if she is home from a long visit away. This peace fills her, making her cry. Durk’s joy freezes when he tastes a tear.

“Did I hurt you, I squish too you more harder, I’m sorry.”

     Patting him on the chest, she tries to explain why she is crying while Durk sweeps her into his arms carrying her to her bench under the trees. Kneeling in front of her, he fusses over her as if she is a queen. Lacy pulls his head to her breast stroking his hair with her fingers. Durk sighs hearing the happiness in her heart. Pressing closer to her gently pushes her legs open trapping him between them. He locks his hands together behind her content to stay just like this for days if she wants him to.
 
    Now it is her turn to shower him with kisses, lifting him even higher. This must be what heaven is like to the spirits. Durk’s need for her to be closer pulls her forward on the bench. The cool air touches her secret for a moment before it is replaces by the heat of his skin. Before today, this would have been wrong. She would have fought at this contact but now it is right and soothing. The hard muscles in his stomach hint to what she will feel later but for now just having him touching her is enough, fogging her thinking again.

     Durk realizes the moist fire is her desire for him. He must touch her in the ways he has only dreamt of but the deerskin shirt denies his freedom. Daring fingers trace her, testing her firmness. Propping her hands on his shoulders gives him permission and the access to explore her. Even as her naked flesh hides from him, he remembers. When his gaze travels up her curves his eyes find hers waiting.
 
   She is frightened not sure what to do as his wife. Knowing wives do things for their husbands, however never actually experiencing the will of a man has her wondering.

 “Durk?”

“Yes my love.”

“Will you, when we, I mean I don’t know….”

Durk knows what she is trying to tell him and promises everything will be fine. His hands caress her face assuring her he will be gentle and patient but admits he doesn’t know the secrets of women very well either. Both of them laugh relieved the other one hasn’t a clue what to do next.

     Most of the day is spend under the trees talking of the future but their minds are wondering about their first night. No more barriers between them, no more wondering while silently waiting for sleep. Impatiently tracking the sun as it falls lower in the sky waiting for the other one to mention going into the cottage, knowing what awaits them inside. Unexpected Durk’s stomach announces they haven’t fed him all day. This brings a nervous laugh but Lacy now has something to do with her hands. Leading her man into their home she prepares a stew for him. Instead of preparing two bowls she fixes one a little fuller than normal sitting beside him on the only bench left in the house since they left the other one at the river. Lacy tests the stew on her self before offering it to her husband. Holding steady is difficult while he is tickling her.

     Soon Durk is a mess but neither of them cares as Lacy busses away the dribbles feeling the spice of it on her lips. He takes the spoon from her so he can feed her. Planning to be just as messy but her beauty is too much for him. He can’t bring himself to purposely spill the broth on her but her giggles makes just as big a mess.

     A cool clothe by the fire has them clean and ready for bed yet they still hesitate until the tickling drops her into his lap. Durk scoops her up; her head is already dizzy with anticipation. She has been waiting for this all day. Now shaking as the rush almost blinds her, only flashes of the room between kisses lets her know he is taking her to his bed. *

END