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Was that part of the nightmare as well? Yet even as he wondered, he could feel the first tingle of passion
as the kiss became bolder.
A hushed moan of pleasure escaped her. Sitting up, she undid the shoulder clasp of her lavender and
silver-laced gown. The gown slipped away, tumbling to her waist. Reaching to her side, she snapped
loose the hip clasp and the gown fell away.
Smiling she brushed back her amber curls to expose the beauty of her breasts.
Still feeling lightheaded, but this time from the joy within him, Imada sat up as Vena pulled back the
covers of his bed.
Together they fell back, now joined as one, their passion rising together, then ever so dreamily falling
away.
Floating in a lovers' embrace, Imada opened his eyes. She lay beside him, her eyes sparkling with love.
"Without you I would be nothing," she sighed. "Don't ever leave me."
Imada pulled her close, and kissed her lightly on the forehead.
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"Can you remember the fight, my love?" Her innocent features were aglow with admiration.
The fight? Yes--that was the nightmare. The party had been on patrol when Sarnak's demons had
attacked. It had been a horrific siege, pinned down in a glade with no protection. One by one his
comrades had fallen. Throughout that long night he had heard their cries as they were dragged off into the
darkness to be tortured and killed.
Numbed, he had waited for the coming of morning and certain death, hiding by the river bank, wounded
and waiting for the end. Somehow he could remember Yoshida's screams of agony.
Imada tried to block that memory. He had been struggling. It was in the water, wasn't it? Yes, in the
water wrestling with a demon. That was it. The demon had pounced on him, and they were struggling in
the water when Yoshida had cried out. What had happened to that demon? He must have killed it,
otherwise he would now be dead.
With the rising of the sun he had found himself alone, the only survivor of the patrol, in the smoking ruins
of the glade, with bodies scattered everywhere. And the enemy was gone.
He must have been in shock, he thought. What did the Americans call it? Combat fatigue. He had
wandered, lost.
Lost until the dark smoke on the horizon told him of trouble. The sight of the demons circling the burning
village had been the trigger to his rage at what had been done.
He looked back at Vena.
"You're thinking of the battle, aren't you, my love?"
Imada nodded.
"I'll always remember how you came to me," she said, her doelike eyes gazing into his.
"The demons had attacked just after dawn," she whispered, as if reciting a shared memory. "They must
have been the same ones that attacked you the night before. We fought as best we could. Everything,
everything was destroyed. My home, my friends, and my father." Tears began to fill her eyes.
"Don't cry, dearest," Imada whispered, kissing her tears away.
"Father was ill already," she said, trying to force a smile. "He had been a warrior under our lord Allic. He
had always said he wished to die sword in hand, facing the enemy, and not wasted and old. He died as
he wished, slaying the demon that killed him, singing his death song. It was as he desired, and for him I
should be happy."
"I was ready to die," she went on grimly. "And then I saw you flying in like an avenger borne on the
wind, descending out of the sun, flame arching from your hand, your battle cry like thunder."
"Oh, how they fled before your rage," she said excitedly. "I thought first that perhaps you must be a god.
Sometimes I still believe that."
Imada blushed at the open admiration in her innocent eyes.
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She giggled softly. "Forgive me; I do love you so. I dream of the day I can tell our grandchildren how
you came thus to save me."
Imada laughed and hugged her. Never would they be separated! "It's still kind of hard to remember it
all."
She paused for a moment, looking at him with concern. "You do remember most of it, though, don't
you?"
"You're helping me to," he replied with a smile.
"You fought your way to me. A demon slashed you here." She pointed to the furled scar on his shoulder.
"Yet still you came for me. And picking me up, you flew off. They chased us here, into the mountains,
until you finally lost them. Only then did you finally collapse, near the edge of death from your wounds,
which were poisoned."
"I knew of this cave. Being on the border marches, Father had prepared this place if there was an
emergency. Even as a child, I could have found this place blindfolded. He had thought of everything,
hiding bedding, clothes, weapons, and food, if ever we should have need of a place to hide. And so I
carried you here after your collapse and brought you back to health."
A look of concern washed over her.
"And now you seem to be healed and ready to travel once again."
"We'll always be one," he murmured.
"But you must go back to your friends, and to our lord Allic."
Yes, that was his name: Allic. Now the memory seemed so much clearer. Allic was his daimyo, his
warlord, and he must obey as a samurai. There was actually a moment of pleasure in that realization. He
was a samurai of Allic's. In his own world he had never wanted to be a soldier, but as a child he had
thrilled with the legendary heroes of the civil wars, and the struggle for the Shogunate. Now he had
powers surpassing even those of Norgunata or the forty-seven ronin. He had his duty.
Yet there was Vena.
"You can fly back with me to Landra. As I saved your life, so you saved mine. Nothing will ever keep us
apart. I could not live without you."
"You seem so much stronger already, even as you talk about it," Vena said. "Think how excited your
friends will be to see you. You've been gone nearly four months, my love."
"Four months!"
Startled, he sat straight up, looking anxiously around.
"The demon's poison worked deep into your soul," Vena said soothingly, sitting up alongside him. "You
did not even stir until several weeks back. It took all the skill I had to bring you back to me."
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