Sosha knelt beside Sheala. “Do you think it will work?”
“Well, I read about it in a book, and I watched Rodane do this with one of our riding beasts that had the same problem. I don’t see that there’s much else we can do unless there’s a veterinarian near here somewhere.”
Sosha shook her head.
“Let’s try then.”
Grasping the part of the leg that was visible, Sheala tried to push the foal back into its mother.
The mare screamed again, but Jota’s nose on her neck kept her still.
“I need your help, Sosha. This is harder than it looks.”
Both girls wrapped their hands around the foal’s leg and pushed. Slowly, it went back into the mare.
When they let go, the hoof began to reappear again.
Sosha shook her head. “I think you’ll have to push it all the way back into the womb to get it aligned with the other leg.”
Sheala swallowed. “Why me?”
“Because it was your idea. I’ll sit behind you and brace you.”
“I hope you know what I’m doing,” Sheala muttered.
With Jota nickering what sounded like encouragement, Sheala pushed her hand into the mare’s birth canal. Grasping the single ankle she felt, with Sosha’s help, she pushed until her entire arm was within the mare.
“I think I found the other leg.”
Sosha wiped the sweat from her forehead on the back of Sheala’s shirt. “Make sure you have both legs.
I don’t think she could go through this again.”
“I…have…it.”
Sheala pulled her arm out and leaned back against Sosha.
Two small hooves appeared. Soon both forelegs were visible.
The laboring mare groaned.
“She’s exhausted,” Sosha mumbled. “Grab a leg and pull when she has another contraction.”
Another contraction gripped the mare’s body. With a rush that knocked both girls flat on their backs, the foal slid into their laps followed almost immediately by the afterbirth.
Jota backed away, and the mare scrambled to her feet. Whirling, she turned towards her foal and the two girls.
“Get a rope on her,” someone shouted. “She’s going after them.”
Neither girl had heard the party of riders that had come upon them as they delivered the foal. Nor had they paid any attention to the angry stallion, trusting Jota to keep him away from them.
Contrary to what everyone expected, the mother of the new foal did not attack the girls. Instead she began to lick them all dry. Unsteadily, the foal tried to climb to its feet.
“It’s white,” said a hushed voice.
“A
pholola
,” said another.
The mare turned a wild eye towards the men on their horses and bared her teeth.
“Well, I never thought to see anything like this,” Drefes said as he dismounted slowly. “Sosha, Sheala, can you come here?”
Both girls rose slowly to their feet, but the mare continued to swipe both her foal and them with her tongue. She snorted in Sosha’s face, but rubbed her head against Sheala.
The stallion screamed again as another horse joined those on the hill. This one was a heavily pregnant mare, and she carried Denieen.
Wendjas frowned. “Should you be riding her, Deni?”
Both Deni and Jota snorted. “She won’t foal for another week, this little ride won’t hurt her. She’s the lead mare. Between Jota and her, they’ll get that foolish stud down with the herd where he belongs.”
Sliding off the mare, Denieen unsnapped the bridle, and slapped her on the rump.
The sight of the mare loping away and the sharp nip Jota gave him convinced the restless stallion to rejoin the rest of his mares at the feeding troughs.
“You two have had a busy day,” Deni said to Sosha and Sheala as she bent to examine first the foal, then the mare. A bit leery of Denieen at first, the mare settled when Jota whickered softly. “They’re both fine, considering the circumstances. It’s amazing that she was able to come this far. But then this mare has been nothing if not contrary all of her life,” she added as she straightened.
The foal sighed and lay down.
“We’ll have to carry it down,” Drefes said as he walked closer and bent to pick up the foal.
He was met by wickedly bared teeth.
“Now what?” he asked in an exasperated tone.
Jota let out a very human sigh and shook her head. Walking over to the foal, she lay down carefully.
With Sheala’s help, Sosha was able to drape the foal across Jota’s withers and climb on herself.
Carefully, Jota rose to her feet. With the mother pacing nervously next to her, she headed down the hill towards the stables.
“She did it again,” Radris said with wonder in his voice as he stared at his mare and the girl riding her.
“Keep Sheala and Sosha close, Drefes, my friend. There’s much about them we don’t understand.”
“Now he’s getting mystical on us,” Wendjas mumbled as he boosted Deni up onto his horse then swung up behind her.
Radris swiftly mounted his borrowed horse and turned to follow Wendjas and Drefes.
Marljas bent over his horse’s withers and held his hand out to Sheala.
She glanced down at herself. “I’m not exactly in the best condition to ride double. I’m covered with mud, blood and afterbirth.”
Marljas shrugged. “I have helped at many a foaling. A little dirt and blood don’t bother me.”
Shrugging, Sheala gave him her hand. However, instead of swinging her up behind him he boosted her up before him and tucked against his chest.
“I am very proud of you,
Cheta
. You saved the life of a
pholola
foal. You’ve brought much honor to our family.”
Sheala attempted to hold herself upright. “I didn’t do anything anyone else wouldn’t have done.”
Marljas had reined his horse in the opposite direction of the barns.
“Where are we going?”
“I thought you might like to clean yourself off,” he answered into her hair. “I know of a pool.”
“I could just as easily take a bath at the house—in a bathtub with nice
hot
water.”
“The pool has a hot spring.”
Sheala didn’t answer and, after ten minutes of riding, their horse pushed his way through some bushes and stopped on the bank of a small, secluded pool.
Marljas lowered Sheala to the ground and swung off after her. Turning, he kicked off the soft leather boots he wore, stripped off his thigh-length tunic, knelt beside the stream that emptied into the pool, and began wash the garment.
Sheala leaned back against the horse and admired his broad shoulders and strong back, watching the play of his muscles under his brown skin.
In a few minutes, he shook the tunic out and spread it in the sun to dry. Turning, he looked at his wife.
“Are you going to wear those dirty clothes all day?”
Looking down at herself, Sheala grimaced. Without a word she walked past Marljas and into the water and began scrubbing her clothing—without removing them.
She glanced back over her shoulder.
Grinning, Marljas stood on the bank of the pool, feet planted slightly apart with his arms crossed over his bare chest. The afternoon sun turned his hair into burnished gold. The muscles on his arms bulged, and his tight leather pants clung to sculpted thighs. The dragon and lion on his shoulder glowed like red gold.
“Are you going to finish washing,
Cheta
, or do you just prefer to admire me?”
Sheala abruptly ducked her head. Then she heard a splash, and Marljas was soon at her side.
“What are you doing!” she gasped as he pulled her shirt over her head.
“You’ll never get all the filth off your shirt this way,” he said as he walked away from her and up onto the bank. Kneeling, he began to scrub.
Sheala was standing waist-deep in the water with her arms crossed over her breasts.
Without looking back, Marljas said, “Those leggings need to be washed, too. Throw them to me.”
“Then I won’t have anything to wear.”
“Put on my tunic. It will reach to your knees.”
Sheala didn’t answer, but Marljas heard a wet thud as her leggings landed on the bank and her splashing as she made her way from the pool to where he’d laid his tunic to dry. It was a thin garment and had dried completely the short time it had lain in the sun. Even though it covered her from knees to neck, it was very revealing.
When Marljas stood to lay out her garments, he smiled.
A slight breeze had come up, pebbling her nipples against the soft material.
His cock responded immediately.
Dropping her soaking garments Marljas stepped towards his wife and said, “Have I told you, my love, how beautiful you are.”
Nervously shaking her head, she stepped back.
Marljas stopped then decided to take his mother’s advice. Two more steps, and he was holding Sheala by the upper arms.
“Look at me,” he said, not trying to hide the desperation in his voice. “Look at my chest.”
Sheala stared at the three parallel scars riding high on his left breast.
“Those scars pledge my love to you, just as the scar on your hand pledges yours to me.”
Lifting her head, her face shouting her misery to the world, she looked into Marljas’ eyes.
Her voice was miserable. “I’m so scared.”
Marljas pulled her into a tight embrace. “I will never hurt you.” Placing his fingers beneath her chin, he lifted her head until her eyes once again met his. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers and placed a gentle kiss against her lips. The soft sigh Sheala released as she closed her eyes encouraged him to continue.
Sheala stopped thinking and let her body enjoy the sensation of the gentle kisses Marljas rained on her face and neck. Soon, his hand had cupped the back of her head. Ever so gently, he nuzzled her mouth with kisses. He circled her lips with his tongue.
After another sigh, she parted her lips.
As his rough tongue mated with hers, his kisses became more passionate and waves of pleasure washed over her. When he cupped and squeezed her breast, however, her eyes flew open and she pushed her hands against his chest.
He refused to release her. “Look at me,” he demanded. “Have I ever hurt you? Do you think I will ever hurt you?”
Sheala closed her eyes, but shook her head.
“Then trust me. Let me love you.”
Leaning her forehead against his chest, Sheala blinked back tears. What kind of Drakian was she? How could she let someone as loathsome as Bakom keep her from enjoying sex with the man she loved more than anything? No! She would not let that evil man ruin her marriage, not now and never again.
Eyes snapping open, she met her husband’s golden gaze. “Help me, please.”
“I will,
Cheta
,” he answered, his mouth again sweeping down on hers. “Just trust me.” Then her mouth was prisoner to his once more.
He kissed her—and kissed her and kissed her, one deep passionate kiss following another until she was breathless.
“I love you,” he murmured against her lips. “I need you. I want you. Do you love me?”
“More than anything,” she gasped between kisses.
Clinging helplessly to his shoulders, Sheala answered his kisses with her own, lost in his gentle passion.
She was unaware she had been laid on the ground until he stopped kissing her long enough to strip off the tunic she wore.
She opened her eyes to see his pants fall to the ground.
When he lowered himself on top of her, she felt as if a bucket of cold water had been tossed over her head.
“No!”
Marljas held her immobile with his body. “Look at me,
Cheta
. Look at
me
! I am
not
Bakom.”
Staring into her husband’s face, she saw only concern, love, and passion.
He slid his cock against her. “You’re slippery and wet, love. Your body wants me. Do you?”
She stiffened but didn’t struggle.
As she stared into his eyes, he spread her thighs with his knees and slid his cock into her. Then he lay perfectly still.
His voice held a tinge of desperation. “Am I hurting you?”
Blinking, Sheala shook her head.
“I’m not going to hurt you,
Cheta
. I’m going to love you.” He ground his hips against hers, pushing his cock deeper. “Am I hurting you?”
Again, Sheala shook her head.
“Let me love you,” he whispered against her mouth. “Let me love those memories away and give you new ones.”
Blinking back tears, Sheala nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, “oh yes.”
Marljas covered her mouth with his. Caressing her tongue with his, he began to pump his hips slowly.
At first, Sheala remained stiff and unresponsive, but as waves of heat began to radiate from her groin, she slowly relaxed her muscles.
He cupped her left breast, trailing a line of kisses down her throat to the firm mound he kneaded gently.
Then he sucked her nipple into his mouth.
She arched her back. “Ahhhhhhhhh.”
“Do you like that? Like the way it feels?” he whispered between her breasts.
“Oh gods, yes.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck—and her legs around his waist. Her tail curled around his calf muscle and squeezed gently, matching the rhythm of his slow thrusts.
“You’re so tight, so hot,
Cheta
. You feel so good, you make my cock even harder.”
Marljas began to thrust deeper, twisting his hips as he did so, grinding into her.
Moisture surrounded his cock, and her internal muscles squeezed.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. He twisted his hips into a long, grinding thrust.
As he nipped her nipple then sucked on it, she threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his head up. “Keep looking at me, please. Let me see your eyes.”
Gritting his teeth as her slippery cunt muscles sucked at his cock, he asked, “What do you see?”
He felt a shiver race through her body.
She arched again then looked into his face. “Fire,” she whispered. “I see fire. And I see love.”
“I will always love you, Sheala. Only you.”
The tip of her tail began to stroke his balls, and he groaned, unsure how much longer he’d be able to last.
Her muscles tightened around his cock, and she stiffened.