Hey, Everyone. Long note here that you're welcome to skip, of course. So I am writing this as you're finishing the previous book, because the lit moderators need time to review and post. They're still really fast, if you think about how much they have to read. But I didn't want any of you to think I'm an ungrateful wretch who takes things for granted, because I'm not and I don't. It's just a lag. Also recognize that I did not have your comments yet when I asked for you to say if you wanted the next book. That lag can sometimes create weird effects. I wouldn't have asked at that point, truly. I would have just done it.
First, to everyone who commented and emailed: I'm really pleased people are enjoying it. I was going kind of blindly there and you all switched on the light. Thanks so much. I know some people had criticism, and I was prepared for that and I think a lot of the critiques are valid. I'll continue to post until the ending and it'll be two chapters, if that's okay. I've set aside something else to edit faster.
To the person who wrote the long note after chs 7-9: Your comments were detailed and articulate and generous, and I'm grateful. I'm not really looking to fix it because I have other things published and because, honestly, I think these novels are what they are. I call them novels simply because they are that length and are a complete story. Rather than self-publish, I'd rather just put it here for Literotica readers I know. I really appreciate the feedback and the time you took to write it. Thanks.
To Eaxia who emailed and noted the Pretty Woman thing. Cheers for the encouragement. Yes, it was deliberate, lol. Sharp eye.
Hey to skygreene. It's been a pleasure chatting with you.
Hi, Tess! Lol, welcome back.
Hello, Pretty. I never forget you.
-Harp
Clans of Luteri: Luteri
Chapter Three
When the sun was beginning to go down, Aslin looked as they topped a rise down into a clear grassy area directly outside of the forest in front of Tavishi Hold. Unlike Corsaire Hold, which was entirely made of black stone and was strict in its straight lines and measured perfection, balanced and square, Tavishi Hold was set in trees with autumn leaves turned colors as if it grew out of the landscape instead of sat on it. Its shape was organic and unpredictable, smoothed mortar.
The great vertical walls rose straight up through the tall trees and well above them. The castle was made of stacked stones with many colors of rock, light and dark, varied, and tall thin spires and black peaked roofs coming to sharp points. The structure seemed almost random, as if it had all been made at once but each part was shaped to serve a purpose. There were no edges anywhere on the surface of the huge edifice, all of its corners rounded.
At its front was what she recognized from Jaime's books about Luteri was a barbican, two guard towers connected by a walkway that went over a great ornate iron gate, then the smaller gate she had come to expect, inset with a repeating pattern of butterflies, to Aslin's surprise, in its center.
"Butterflies?" she said to Kane, her mouth twitching.
"That is our standard, yes. Corsaire is, as you know, the Aspen trees, and Duellan is a torch, and Prash a key. Noëthe is a ship because they are lowland idiots."
"A butterfly seems a little...," Aslin began, and then paused, searching for the word. "Harmless, doesn't it?"
"I don't know the last person who was killed by a tree except maybe falling out of one, Aslin. Our standard is not about war, but about who we are as a clan. Tavishi mean change by it, transformation to something greater."
They wound their way down, the castle rising as they descended, the village coming into view past the barbican, the gates as tall as the tallest Alverian building and still not as tall as the castle behind it. The land was strangely empty, woodland and hills all around. There was a break in the trees to far hills and she saw what she thought were Luterian sheep, craning her neck, small dots in the green distance.
"Why is there a well?" she asked him, spotting it directly outside the gates.
"For any who come here after a journey. It is a symbol of hospitality and welcome."
Kane slowed Shaol to wait for her on the wide path until she was riding next to him again as they began to make their way down, the way a little steep.
"We have not always been in feud, Aslin. Tavishi had a very long history, they tell me, when our clan gates never closed and Corsaire were allies to us and welcome here."
Kane didn't speak for a while, as if he were thinking about it as the Hold came into view. Then he looked at her.
"Both our clans are very tired and bitter and too proud and all of us have lost people we loved we were supposed to protect," he said. "Three hundred years is a long time, Aslin, even for us. It's been all my life, all Ruthe's life. All my father's life, all your father's life. There is nobody left alive who even remembers a time when hate for each other was not our heritage. The mark you bear is Shai's message to our people. The bond tells all Luterians she approves the peace."
Aslin began to see what it had meant when these people thought she had died, all hope of ending the feud honorably dying with her. Why Kane had gone to Corsaire Hold with her even though he knew they hated him, even though he knew it would make him angry to do that. Why Kane had agreed to give her his oath when she was a child.
Luterians viewed her bond with him, the scar, as a blessing from Shai, and all five of the Luterian clans worshipped the Goddess.
The gates came into view. She felt Kane's surprise to find a figure standing there, waving. A woman in a gold Luterian dress. She had wavy thick brown hair that caught the sunlight like fire, rich and deep, drawn away from her face and falling well below her waist. She was tall and lithe, a Luterian knife at her slim waist, and as they got closer Aslin saw flashing eyes, a warm smile. She was beautiful.
"Kane!" the figure called, still waving.
Aslin felt Kane's surprise, and then he closed the bond. He didn't acknowledge the woman until they reached the gates.
"Helene," Kane said as the woman opened the smaller gate wide enough for the horses to get through.
"I'm happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"
This was Kane's sister. Helene closed the gate behind them and locked it, turning to the cobbled village street much like the Corsaire village, although different, too, the village shops shaped differently, linked to one another and tall. Helene walked with confident strides, going to her horse and mounted with ease.
"I am meeting you, what do you think, you ass?" the woman answered. "I have always meet you at the gates. How is Jaime?"
"He's well," Kane said shortly, moving Shaol forward, his sister going in front of him.
"That's Aslin?" Helene said, turning around and looking past Kane to her.
Aslin was surprised. Helene knew her. But of course she was the only Corsaire to whom Kane had—or ever would have, for that matter—given his oath.
"Obviously, Helene," Kane said, his tone saying he didn't want to talk anymore.
