Vero could not see anything. “Is this really necessary?”

  “Yes, my love.” Jean removed his hands and they were standing in front of her shaggy chestnut mare, Papillon. “For your birthday, cherie.”

  Vero rushed towards the animal as though it were the first time they had met. “She’s beautiful!”

  “What will you name her?”

  Vero inclined her head towards the horse’s mouth. “She says her name is Papillon.”

  “I want to go for a ride.” The moment he had spoken, Vero found herself mounted and Jean was riding beside her on his steel gray stallion.

  They raced through the autumn forest, upturning a cloud of many-colored leaves behind them. Vero held the advantage while she maneuvered Papillon through the tight trees, but as the forest thinned, Jean started to bear down on her with his trained charger. Without being weighed down by his master’s arms or armor, Vero was astounded how fast the warhorse could gallop.

  They stopped together in a broad clearing. The sun was out and it was very warm despite the late season. Vero dismounted and pulled off her shirt and pants. Jean climbed down beside her and once she was naked, she undressed him as well.

  “What are you doing, cher?”

  “I want- I need you, Jean.” She had his shirt off, but the buckle of his belt was stuck.

  “Let’s return to my tent.”

  She finally tore the belt loose. “No, I want you here.”

  “If that’s what you wish.” Jean tilted her face upwards towards his and kissed her.

  Vero pulled them both down onto the grass, but she had already lost her sense of sight again as she began to awaken. She still felt Jean tracing the line of her slender breasts, but a moment later that was gone as well.

  And then there was nothing at all.

  She was awake.

  Curled up in Heward’s embrace, Vero was nearly warm. They must have finally traveled far enough south to meet the spring. She pressed her nose against his cheek to chase off its chill with his heat.

  Heward opened his eyes.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “I thought you were a part of my dream.”

  “What kind of dream was it?” she asked.

  “I can’t remember any longer.”

  Vero was certain that was a lie, but she did not press the issue. Every part of her that did not rest against him was cold, so they were far enough north that winter still held some sway.

  She turned over to warm her reverse side. “Let’s just terry here in the warmth a moment.”

  “It would be sinful, I cannot.” He stood up. “Sloth is a vice,” he clarified.

  “Yes, I know. It’s one of my four favorites, although it’s the least among their number. But Mother Luna’s grace is infinite, and she understands Her children’s occasional indiscretions.”

  “Thesmos’ calculations are precise. Her patterns form perfect systems reaching into infinity. Every human error undermines that total symmetry. If a fault emerges, it is our duty to correct it.”

  “Very well. As it’s impossible to stay warm here without you, you may consider my fault corrected.” Vero got out of her bedroll and packed it away.

  “You misunderstand, my L- Veronique. I confess, I am utterly blind to any fault you may possess. They are my own flaws which trouble me.”

  He was so sweet that Vero wished to kiss his cheeks and tell him that all would be well, but she feared that would only make his troubles worse. With her humors still only beginning to settle, after what Iosephus and Elizaveta had done to her, she also wished to avoid testing her own discipline.

  They broke down their tent quietly. The whole company was on their way again as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon. They were back in rough civilization once more, but they could not remain too slack for any pursuers.

  The underground river took them only a few days from Burgorod. The slayers owned a mill at its outlet they used to control access. They rested there for a few hours, but pressed on quickly.

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  There was no telling how far behind them their pursuers were. Vampyres could follow them quickly by riding the night winds, but they might be disinclined to pursue without their thralls for support. Especially when they were risking their hard-won immortality on behalf of such dubious allies as the Curia.

  Let those uneasy bedfellows trouble with themselves for a while. The sky was clear, and Vero did take a moment to say her prayers towards Luna the Maiden watching her there, hoping they would be passed along to the full moon in Her time.

  They were already near Burgorod, where they intended to raid a storehouse of supplies the Order kept there before moving on. Vero told them about the drunkard Ramiro, and that he was holding her horse for her.

  Diana led the journeymen to the storehouse. Pentarch believed all the watchmen there were trustworthy, but admitted that Lothair had a hand in their selection. Diana intended to disarm them before talking. She was taking no chances, and Vero considered it a wise precaution.

  Those left watching over the mill were not so trustworthy. The blackguards tried to poison their supper when they sat down to eat after their long trip down the river. The attempt was a clumsy one though, and despite the desperate condition of their party, everyone was very much on his guard.

  They hung the traitors from a tree before they left.

  Vero, Heward, Pentarch, Conner, Isolde, and Alexius split off from the others to meet with Ramiro. Vero checked the stables of the inn where she left Ramiro first, and was relieved to see Papillon.

  The mare was excited to see her, and they whispered loving thoughts to one another for several minutes, until Pentarch interrupted them. “We’re in a hurry, journeyman.”

  Vero left Papillon for the moment, and they went inside. “We’ll find Ramiro somewhere amongst the most besotted students,” she said. Then she saw someone who left her astounded. “Dora?”

  “My love!” Dora was as bright as the sun. “You’ve returned! Ramiro! He’s here! Virgil’s here! Come quickly, you drunk!”

  Ramiro stumbled out from a dark corner looking bleary eyed. Dora ran to her, and Vero caught the girl up in her arms.

  Dora offered her a gentle kiss, and Vero returned her a hard one. “I told you to stay in Velois.”

  “You didn’t really mean that, love. I know you didn’t. Some weeks after you left, I woke from a terrible nightmare. I knew for certain you were in terrible pain and that you needed me. I traveled with a merchant caravan. One led by a very fat, but also very kind fellow who let me accompany them as his mistress. He was very rich and we had so many guards that there was never any real danger. Ramiro told me he was waiting for you with Papillon, who I recognized, of course. When my friend’s business took him back to the south, I stayed here with Ramiro, and he’s looked after me since. But now you’ve returned to me!”

  Dora kissed her and Vero rediscovered Dora’s body with her hands.

  “Virgil, my heart?”

  Dora had broken the kiss, but Vero did not cease her explorations. “Yes?” She moved her lips to Dora’s soft, warm, and unblemished neck.

  “Did you dream of me?”

  “Every night.” Vero considered it an exaggeration rather than a lie. “I want to be alone with you.”

  “I want to be with you as well.”

  “I want to be alone with you right now.”

  “Oh!” Dora started retreating towards the bedrooms. She was too distracted by Vero’s hands to notice Ramiro being intercepted by the others.

  Vero made signs for them to check Ramiro thoroughly. She and Dora went to the room Vero shared with Ramiro before she left for the slayer’s fortress the previous autumn.

  Dora stopped in front of the door to kiss her again. “Won’t your friends think we’re terribly rude?”

  “I don’t care.”

  Dora smiled and opened the door for them. Vero always decided when, and how, they made love. Dora would not find her behavior too unusual.

  Vero closed and bolted the door behind them.

  Dora had turned to the bed and begun to sensuously unlace her dress, but Vero did not want to wait and roughly pulled it off her. She pushed the girl forward onto the bed with her bare legs hanging over the edge.

  Vero’s hands snapped out like cobras and caught one of Dora’s flailing arms, then the other, in quick order. She tried to stand up, but Vero held her down by pinning her arms behind her back.

  “This hurts, Virgil.” Dora’s voice was muffled by the bed.

  “Only for a moment, my love.” Vero checked Dora’s wrists carefully, no sign of bites.

  She kept one of Dora’s wrists, but let the other go and knelt down. With her free hand Vero prodded apart Dora’s legs and searched the interior line of her thighs.

  She was perfect. Pale from the thin sunlight in the north, but still as pure as she ever had been. Vero had not wanted to let herself believe it until she was certain. She smiled, kissed Dora's femoral to feel her living pulse, then grabbed her legs and tossed her all the way onto the bed.

  Dora turned over to face her, looking cross. “Now what was that about? If you were so worried I had the rash you could have asked me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  “I know you wouldn’t. That wasn’t the social disease which concerned me.” Vero undressed herself more sedately, now that she knew there was no immediate danger. “And I know an ointment for the rash; this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve applied it to you.”

  Vero took time to drink in Dora’s naked features. Her flesh was soft and supple over most of her body, but her legs showed some small signs of muscle development after her recent journeys. Her hips were wide, but she had no navel hair- it had been shaved to prevent the acquisition of crabs. Dora’s breasts were much larger than the two small tear-shapes revealed by Vero releasing the silk tightly binding her own chest.

  Her face had been hard with irritation, but it softened while she surveyed Vero in reverse. “You are happy to see me, aren’t you?”

  Vero let the last of her garb fall. “Yes, I am.”

  Vero climbed onto the bed and put a leg over her. Dora squirmed her arms, but Vero caught them both again easily. She pressed both of Dora’s wrists together and held them with one hand. Her grip was not strong that way, but Dora only resisted her playfully.

  Vero put the girl’s hands over her head and bent forward to kiss her. With her free hand she massaged Dora’s breasts, and felt the broad nipples harden to points that reminded Vero of arrow heads.

  Dead archers left on a wall.

  Vero straightened back up slowly, letting Dora crane her neck as far as she could to chase her mouth. “Virgil- I… I only ever thought of you. Even when you left me alone. I never would have stopped waiting for you.”

  “Suppose I had died? I nearly did- more than once.”

  “Then I suppose I would have waited forever and found you in the next life.”

  “I’m glad you weren’t kept waiting that long.”

  Dora giggled and writhed under her in a bid to upset Vero’s balance. “As am I.”

  Vero moved forward. She pinned Dora’s shoulders beneath her legs, and then the girl’s face was obscured from view. A sigh of pleasure escaped Vero’s lips.

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