Amashanae - Book 1
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His opening eyes reflected the oddly dim canopy of stars above the desert. It was still night and Juara felt a little chilly. He tried to sit up, realizing that Asaryen had cuddled up to him. The woman slept peacefully, pressed flush against his warm body, and he found he could not stop staring at her. It certainly was a sight to his liking. Asaryen was pretty and Juara was a kind of a man who definitely enjoyed his women. And women surely do enjoy me, a complacent thought flashed in his mind. Carefully he brushed off some loose hair from Asaryen’s cheek. As he watched her sleep he realized her beauty and closeness pleased him greatly. Her features were not exactly regal or noble but she was far from plain in any case. A country girl with a slightly childish, round face, large eyes and a fair, even skin, unblemished by the hardness of rural life. Not a worker, then, but perhaps a merchant’s daughter, he deduced. She was not exactly slender either, but that was due to her voluptuous curves rather than bulk, and these curves Juara could not help but notice as he let his gaze follow Asaryen’s neck down to her breasts. Juara tilted his head a bit, eyes moving downward and starting to gleam, but the rising fire in them was extinguished instantly as he looked to his left side.
Because there he saw the elf, still sleeping uneasily. Juara hawked, clearing his throat cautiously and gently, if unwillingly pushed Asaryen away. Better not to, he thought to himself. Even though she appeared to sleep fast, Juara could see her eyes in the back of his mind. Godlike, those eyes, he thought. No doubt many a man had given up his mortal coil for the sake of those eyes…she hardly understands how far could she go just on account of those eyes; the things she could achieve with just a few glances of gold and emerald from between her lashes. He shook away such thoughts and told himself to concentrate on the present. Stay with the elf, forget the country rose. He stood up, collected and threw a couple of pieces of palm tree bark and sticks to the fire which, sparkling and cracking, flared into a new blaze and begun to cast new warmth around. Much better he thought. The flames flickered on the surface of Amashanae’s scabbard and revealed the amulet on her bosom. That amulet, that sword…I have to concentrate on finding out more about the elf. I know…I’m sure she’ll lead me to something…she must be a key to find something…a new life even… In the orange light of the flames he flexed and yawned, watching Amashanae thoughtfully, pondering how should he approach the elf, what attitude to adopt towards her from now on. She was a force to be reckoned on her own, and he was not entirely sure if she would consider him friend or foe even now. He spent a few minutes warming in the blaze of the fire and adding some new wood to it. Then she spent a minute just looking appreciatively at Asaryen, still sleeping, returning to his berth of sand and blankets next to the women. Carefully he set himself down again and pressed his face against Asaryen’s hair and drew in a deep, careful breath. He really wanted to kiss her, but some instinct inside him told him not to do so.
“Better not to”, he whispered before he fell asleep.