TITLE: The Sun Priest and the Merchant's Daughter

Chapter: 1, Sun and Shadow

"For nothing is hidden that will not become evident, nor anything secret that will not be known and come to light." Luke 8:17

"I'm not trying to poison you, Aloy. Just one taste. Trust me."

Warm fingers on her chin drew a blush from her cheeks, branding her with a heat that stole her breath. The voice, filled with humor and the promise of acceptance, set her heart pounding. Aloy swallowed hard. This was outside the limits of her experience. To escape the strange sensations, she backed herself against the intricately carved iron railing. Eyes wide and nowhere to run she resembled a trapped rabbit. Except, there's not a rabbit in Meridian with a wild mane of red hair and disarming green eyes that hold no hint of fear. Silhouetted against the stars, with a hundred candles flickering in her eyes the young woman is unaware of her natural beauty or how the full desert moon sent the tones of her sun-streaked hair into a cool fire of muted color. No, this rabbit would hold her ground and never yield.

The man responsible is her dinner companion Erend. A man of the world and Vanguard soldier in service to the Sun King. As head of the King's Vanguard Erend and his sister have King Avad's ear and move in the inner circles of court. There are many women at court. Many of the beautiful and most of them willing. Tonight he sees nothing but the spirited woman-child before him. He's pushing her, and he knows it, but the evening is warm and scented. The food and good wine put him in a mood. For the first time in weeks, the pain and guilt of losing his sister didn't weigh him down.

With her back against the railing, Aloy cannot escape the man smiling at her or the exotic food he offered from a spoon. She's never seen a spoon or a utensil more sophisticated than the trencher and knife her people use. That's easy enough to hide. It's his golden eyes and the warmth saturating the cool silk of her clothes to warm her skin. For the first time in her life, Aloy ignored her instincts and resisted the urge to pull away. Erend tipped the contents of a small golden spoon into her mouth.

With eyes closed, her full lips begged for a kiss while she savored the taste. Fortunately for him, Aloy, who could seriously hurt him if she were aware of her affect on him, kept her eyes closed while he silently appreciated the feminine beauty and strength. She wasn't accustomed to this kind of attention from men, but her naivete contrasted with the instincts of a warrior was not something he can ignore. She is more skilled and braver than any five of his Vanguard soldiers.

When Aloy arrived dressed in what Erend imagined was her best armor, weapons hanging on her back and her flaming hair in its usual state. Erend and the King greeted her respectfully and handed her a cup of wine. A few minutes later they pretended not to notice when two serving women gently led her away. The Aloy who returned wore silk robes of ivory and black. Around her head lay a headpiece of turquoise stones. The women wove a few strands of hair into the headpiece, the bulk of her hair hung clean, straight and orderly down her back. Gone were the braids and beads. Erend imagined how Aloy probably fought for those braids.

Wild and free with smudged cheeks or stately and robed like a princess? Beautiful either way, but as he watched her enter the terrace, Erend realized he wasn't sure. The shapely curves normally hiding under layers of leather, were evident under the silk robes called to him. Erend tossed back the remainder of his wine. A month ago, he would have bragged to anyone who would listen that she wasn't good enough for him. A tasty morsel yes, but not polished enough for the court of the Sun King. Naivete held the interest of a man of his tastes only until the maid surrendered.

Drunk and boasting in front of his drinking companions his bravado sounded witty and clever. Tonight as he watched her slowly open her eyes he knew something had changed. Hidden under layers of drink and soldier's bravado, beneath the facade of a courtier his arrogant outbursts had more to do with grief, than anything he might do to this jewel.

Don't kid yourself. You knew it the morning you lay on the ground like a wounded pig and watched helplessly while she took down Dervahl and those six Glinthawks.

A pair of clear green eyes wide and innocent with unasked questions stared into his face. Erend knew the answers, just as he also knew it was he was not good enough for her.

And hadn't Avad had expressed interest in Aloy from the start?

Reluctantly, Erend released her. Handsome and young, the sun king could give her all that she desired. Care for her, spoil her and never burden her with too many births. With Avad she could be the queen of Meridian. With him, she would be just one of the hundreds of other soldier's wives who lived below in the village. Waiting for the men to return while they made a few shards by watching each other's children or hawking wares from a small shop. With children dragging at her heels, she would quickly lose the vibrancy of youth. He couldn't do that to her. He might as well blow out a candle or smother a campfire with sand the effect would be the same. Erend swallowed his pride and forced his hand away from her face.

"Did you like it?"

Instead of pulling away, Aloy caught the hand that held her chin. The spoon clattered forgotten to the worn stone, bounced once and fell off the edge. Once, twice she swept her trigger finger over his knuckles. Her breath quickened, and he knew it because she was close enough that he felt the gentle puffs of air on his cheek.

"I've never tasted anything like it. How do you keep the ice...?"

That the strawberry ice pleased her was all that mattered. Erend never heard the question over the pounding of his heart.

~o0o~

From the glow of a single candle, Darcia carefully counted the shards from the day's sales and swept them from the scared table into a leather bag. The leather bag went around her neck, hidden by the scarf she wore over her hair and shoulders. She wrinkled her nose at the smelled of cabbage, offal, and slaughtered animals. The familiar smells of Meridian Village never changed, it's just that she never got used to it. Never intended to get used to it.

Her mother always told her she had a mind like a machine. She was never sure if that was a compliment. Her mother, an embittered women made old before her time, never complimented her. So it probably wasn't. A few things she knew for sure. She was clever with figures, which was a good thing because her father drank most of the income from their little shop. Based on the way men followed her with their eyes and whistled she knew she was passing pretty and there was a better life for her somewhere outside the bridges and gates of the reeking furnace that was Meridian.

Three years ago, at the age a girl most needed a mother to guide her path into womanhood, her mother had thrown herself from one of the bridges. On her own at fourteen, she learned to escape the grasping hands of the guards and merchants. To keep herself clean and decently clothed. Over time she managed to keep enough by to make sure her father didn't starve. Each day began, much the way it ended with a heel of bread in one hand and a stone cup of thin beer in the other.

Instead of gossiping with the other merchants around the fire pits, she decided to head to the edge of the village. From here she could see the stars, catch a breath of fresh air and watch the golden lights of the Sun Palace. What were they doing up there, she wondered? Her young heart dreamed of them swaying to the music and the soft fabric of their fine clothes rustling with movement. Their language friendly and their conversations full of humor and interesting topics. The food wholesome and fresh.

She'd heard of a thing they called ices. Fruit mixed with ice and sugar those nobles could enjoy any time of year. She wondered at the lives of those who lived so high above her small world. Each day she watched noble men and women walk quickly through the shops. If she were a noblewoman, Darcia would send one of her maids down to the village. She longed to ask them about their clothes or their hair, but she never dared. Someday, she scolded herself for wishing for what she couldn't have. Someday. Just not today.

Once when she fled one her father's drunken rages, she'd found a staircase. On and on she ran until she reached the until she found herself deep inside the walls of Meridian. Shadowed and cool the room was filled straw and barrels of snow. This was snow? This was where they stored the ice. Hidden in the cellars, where the sandstone stayed cool, workers brought snow and kept it from melting. A magical place she returned to again and again when life became too much for the child. A place where she could forget the bruises on her cheek and the tears tracking paths through the dirt on her cheeks. Leaning a little further against the railing she caught a glimpse of movement against the edge of a platform.

Years ago, she remembered when she and a group of children sneaked into the Royal Maizelands. Trying and failing at being quiet they crawled through the high stalks of corn. After a great deal of giggling and arguing about being lost, they burst into a garden area hidden from animals and protected from the sun. Bright colored berries of red and blue, flowing water, birds, and flowers so beautiful and fragrant, the children stood spellbound. They hadn't worked up their courage to drink the water or taste the berries before they heard footsteps and the rattling sound of a guard uniform.

They ran.

Two of the boys got caught, but she didn't. She was fast and with her dark hair could make herself invisible. She never went back to that garden, but she never forgot the scents and the bounty of colors. It's exactly the way she imagined they lived in the Sun Palace. Someday. Just not today. A hand on her shoulder intruded on her fantasies.

"Darcia, you shouldn't be out so late. Go home, child." The old blacksmith smiled kindly.

He was right, of course. She should go home to the filthy room she shared with her father and the coarse straw mat she wove herself. By now, he's drank himself into a stupor. She has nothing to fear from him. Until morning, that is. When he woke, shouting for beer and more often than not vomiting through his curses.

The blacksmith handed her a few slices of pork sausage wrapped in a cotton rag.

"Child you might find some peace at the Sun Temple."

"There's nothing there for me," she replied with a shake of her dark head. This wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation. She wanted to ask him what standing in the sun listening to old men chant could possibly do to change anything about her life. The chanting wouldn't stop her father from drinking or bring her mother back. The sun was just the sun. Its heat baked the earth until no plow could break or turn the soil. Smothered the corn with heat until they finally wilted and gave up.

Darcia waved good night to the blacksmith and turned for home. The sausage she hid carefully in her scarf. As she walked, her fingers closed around the tiny spoon in her pocket. She found it earlier lying in the dirt. It was beautiful with intricate carving and inlaid stones. Darcia smiled beneath the rough cotton of her scarf. It wasn't much, but it was a start.