Touch

Chronology: Tristan is 46. Raja is 36. Ardeth is 20.

Tristan heard his son moving through the woods towards their camp before he saw him. Ardeth was being uncharacteristic in his lack of stealth. Tristan made no comment when Ardeth dropped his two dead hare carelessly on the ground. He was glad Raja was not here, she would be appalled at Ardeth's blatant lack of reverence of his quarry. Normally, he would say a brief Egyptian prayer for the dead after a hunt, but his mouth looked more ready to spew curses than prayers. But Tristan would not pry, whatever was bothering his son – and he knew something was – he would tell him in his own good time.

Two days and Ardeth still could not find the courage to confide in his father about what was grating on his nerves, the reason that had prompted him to suggest this spontaneous trip. He was too embarrassed to tell his mother, and his mind was too jumbled to say anything to Lucan, his closest friend. While his father readied the fire, Ardeth went to fill the iron pot with water, returning, Tristan was already skinning one of the five plump hares he had snagged. Lord Ra and Dyne II were grazing not too far away; the occasional sounds of their hooves brushing against earth indicated their distance. In companionable silence, father and son prepared their dinners and ate. Afterwards, they cleaned their utensils, settled the horses, and relaxed themselves for the night. They sat facing one another on opposite ends of the fire.

The pyre crackled, the flames did their heated dance with the soft evening breeze. It illuminated both faces, setting off the brownish gold of both sets of eyes, and the tattooed cheekbones of their chiseled faces. Ardeth had gotten his tattoos, a coming-of-age mark of his father's Iazyges tribe – when he was fifteen, killing for the first time in an unexpected battle.

Tristan could tell his son was coming to the end of his rope; so he continued to bide his time, peeling slices of his apple with the blade of his dagger.

"Maybe we could stay out here for a couple more days," Ardeth said suddenly.

Tristan's brow rose beneath his tousled bangs. "Is it that bad?"

Ardeth pulled a face, and finally relented. "I don't know, but it is damned awkward, and might become more so later on." His eyes met his father's, clearly distressed. Ardeth began to speak...

It was clear skies and sun bright. Ardeth walked out of the lake, looking akin to an Egyptian god, water cascading down his toned, lean body, his light brown skin glistening. This small clearing was his own little haven, he relished the quiet. He shook his head, beads of water flinging helter-skelter from his raven locks. He let out a breath of contentment and lay himself out on the blanket he'd spread out. Not long after, his blissful peace was broken by a soft voice.

"Hello, Ardeth."

He knew that voice all too well. "Brother Osiris, Cassandra!" A nude Ardeth bolted up and snatched the blanket to cover his privates, although he suspected the girl had already gotten an eye-full. "What are you doing out here?" And why had he not noticed her? So much for being the venerable scout's son. She must have come upon him while he was in the water and hidden herself. Ardeth grimaced and plodded towards where he had thrown his clothes. Behind a bush he put his breeches on, ready for a more equal encounter.

Lord Ra appeared, and Ardeth cursed his horse in Arabic. "Some lookout you are."

Cassandra smiled at him, unabashedly admiring his body. Ardeth did not like the look in her jade eyes.

"You're not supposed to be out without your ladies," Ardeth said.

Cassandra shrugged. "Rhia is busy helping her mother with the laundry."

His eyes became suspicious slits; she had never been so bold as to follow him anywhere, although at the fortress, she had caught herself alone in his presence. She had begun to act strangely around him within the past year, giving him glances that he recognized as flirtatious. Ardeth tried to make sure to keep a friendly distance, not wanting to compromise the peace.

"So what are you doing out here?" he asked again.

"I wanted to speak with you," Cassandra replied.

He was instantly wary. "You could not have waited until I returned to the fortress? It isn't appropriate for you to be out here alone with a man."

"You're not just any man, Ardeth. My father trusts you."

He pursed his lips. "No matter. We'll return now."

"No!" Cassandra blurted, walking closer to him. She was breathing faster now; it had taken all her courage to follow him out here, to do what she had so long wanted to do. The words she had rehearsed in her mind more times than she could count faltered on her tongue.

Ardeth could feel the heat of her body, the flush of her ivory cheeks indicated her desperation. The light linen dress fluttered in the breeze, along with her long, dark auburn locks, that were usually bound, but not today.

"Well, what is it?" he asked, his discomfort making his words sound more laconic than he had intended.

Cassandra bit her bottom lip, the lump she swallowed was loud in her ears. And before she thought, and before Ardeth could protest, she undid the broaches at her shoulders, letting her dress fall down her body.

Ardeth's eyes popped open in surprise. He looked her up and down. Her body was slim and flawless, her aureoles were a dark pink, her nipples were hard buds. Her breasts were small, but firm. She really had not a curve to her body, but her person was firm, skin milky white. The thatch of hair around her privates matched the hair on her head. She was fairly tall, a body almost near that of a woman. All of this he took in the space of a second before turning his back on her. "What in the gods name, Cassandra! Put your dress back on!" He walked to the edge of the lake, back still turned.

It was silent behind him, until he heard her soft footsteps approach, and then her arms were snaking themselves around his waist like serpents. He stiffened, more uncomfortable than he had ever been in his twenty years. Her soft breasts brushed against his taut back, her equally soft hands caressed his toned abdomen, he stopped her from descending further.

"I want you, Ardeth," she whispered, her breath whispering against his skin. "For so long I have desired you."

"Impossible," he croaked. "You're much too young."

"Too young?!" She released him and pulled on his arm to make him face her. She stood confident in her nudity. "Your father was older than you when he married your mother."

He jaw clenched. "That is different. My mother is not you." He managed to only stare at her flashing eyes, and no where else.

Cassandra embraced him again, the top of her head almost reached his shoulder. Her cheek rubbed against the light dust of hair on his chest. Her hands came around to his chest, and she placed her palms on each of his pectorals, her thumbs touching his own hard nipples. Heat invaded his body and made his skin ultra-sensitive to her touch. He was not attracted her, but damn his body for responding the way it was.

"Do you not find me attractive, Ardeth?" she asked, her voice still soft and hushed. Her lips brushed his neck and when he felt her tongue flick out to lick his pulse, his hands firmly grasped her shoulders to hold her at arms length.

"Listen, here, Cassandra," he began, regaining his wits. "This is inappropriate, and you are much too young for me."

"No more than five years!" she exclaimed.

The petulant denial in her voice only convinced Ardeth all the more that she was no woman.

"Your mother was-"

"You are not my mother," he snapped. "This is entirely different. Now put your clothes back on, and I'll escort you back to the fortress." He let her go, went to put his tunic and boots on, folded up the blanket and readied Lord Ra.

She continued to stand where he had left her, hands on her cocked hips. "I felt your hardness, Ardeth! You cannot deny you want me!"

He scoffed. "Just because a man is hard does not mean he wants. If you knew anything about a man's body, you would know that even a mere breeze could stiffen a phallus!" Ardeth did not look at her as he went about tightening the bridle and situating the saddle comfortably on Lord Ra. "Put your damned dress back on."

Hot tears veiled her eyes. "By God, I love you!" She snatched her dress off of the ground and ran off into the trees.

"Cassandra!" Ardeth called after her. "Cassandra!" He didn't go after her...

Tristan had listened in silence. He noticed Arthur's daughter acting strangely the past few days. Raja had commented on the young girl's down trodden attitude. Now he knew why.

"I should have stopped it sooner," Ardeth was saying.

Tristan made a sound of wry amusement deep in his throat.

"Are you disappointed in me, Walide?" He was not afraid of many things, but accruing his father's disappointment was one of them, something he had yet to face.

"No," he said. "You held your own as best you could."

Some of the tension left Ardeth's shoulders.

"But as you said, this could become troublesome," Tristan went on. "I wouldn't worry overmuch, save for she is Arthur's daughter..."

"And stubborn, brash, careless," Ardeth mumbled.

Tristan did not voice his agreement. Cassandra was a nice enough child, but a child she was. Sheltered, as no doubt a princess would be, and a princess eager to free herself of the reins which impeded her from a sense of freedom most girls her age were privy to.

"She thinks herself a woman, like Walida was when you and she... Did you think yourself too old when you married Walida?"

Raja had been but a year older than Cassandra when Tristan and she first made love. But Raja had been a woman at the time. "No. Your mother had lived two lifetimes by the time she was Cassandra's age."

Ardeth nodded. "That's what I tried to tell her. But I don't think much of what I said convinced her. She still looks at me..." He sighed heavily. "Fancies herself in love..."

Tristan threw the pit of his apple into the fire. He was proud of his son; he knew all too well that most young men of Ardeth's age would have easily succumbed to a willing maiden in a situation like that. "If this continues to a point, we will have to have a talk with Arthur and Guinevere."

Ardeth grimaced. "I don't want to get Cassandra in trouble. She's a nice enough girl."

"I know."

The younger leaned back against the tree. "I suppose a few more days out here won't cure anything then."

Tristan half-smiled. Yes, he was proud of his and Raja's son. Honest and trustworthy, and never ready to run from his troubles.

TBC...