The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

Battlemages from the school almost sent him into sexual ecstasy. Lords would have to come to him for access to any magician!
    “With talent like hers, you shouldn’t need quite so much money,” her father stated, standing in the doorway. His brown eyes turned cold and calculating. “You’ll be able to sell her services earlier than most apprentices’. You should pay us for the privilege of training her.”
    No sign of gold winked at Ackerly from the mother’s hands where she stood beside her husband. She refused to look at anything but the floor. Her posture reminded him of someone. . . . The name “Guillia” jumped into Ackerly’s mind. He wondered how he knew that.
    Ackerly swallowed, trying to think. He needed that gold, not half memories of a quick tumble in the hay somewhere on his journeys. “Training is very expensive. Kalen must have books, equipment, and a variety of teachers, who must be paid. There is rent and food and firewood to be purchased.”
    Kalen’s father held up a hand to stop Ackerly’s protests before he uttered them. “Perhaps we can strike a bargain. You need a steward, someone to deal with suppliers. Someone who can travel and find your books and special equipment, as well as recruit new students who have gold to pay in tuition. Parents will pay more if you provide someone to oversee the raising of your students in matters other than magic. They are, after all, children in need of parents. My wife is an excellent cook. Our other children can run errands. Take in the entire family and you won’t need to rely upon Lord Quinnault for servants and supplies. You will be beholden to no one and can sell the services of magicians to the highest bidder rather than give them away to the lord to whom you owe your livelihood.”
    “I can pay little. The school is not yet large and profitable.” Ackerly stalled.
    “For now, food and shelter will suffice. In a few moons, when we are all settled we can discuss my salary. A percentage of the profits, perhaps.”

Chapter 21
     
    N imbulan watched Erda, the ancient witchwoman of the Rover clan, strum a lute lightly. The soft notes drifted around the large single-roomed lodge where the extended family had settled for the winter. Beside the central hearth, Maia complemented the quiet melody with a lilting descant on a wooden flute. Her green bodice and yellow headscarf played games with the colors of the flames. Highlights of bronze and gold flushed her face with intriguing shadows and planes.
    Ah, Maia. He smiled at the thoughts of her nimble fingers stroking fiery music through his veins as they lay together beneath piles of warm furs each night.
    At first he’d been hesitant to indulge himself in her softly rounded body, but privacy was an implied thing in this close-knit clan. Living so close together they simply ignored each other when appropriate. Drifting to sleep with the sounds of other couples making love had quickly dispelled his shyness.
    The tune shifted to a more intense rhythm. The melody bounced into a compelling variation that set his toes twitching. Across the fire, a middle-aged woman and her man began a dance. They stamped their feet in counterpoint to the flute. She flipped her skirts, showing off shapely calves and knees. He bumped her hips with his own and clapped his hands over his head. In another quick gesture, his fingers tangled with the ties of her bodice, loosening them. Someone beat a new cadence against a skin drum. Others joined the suggestive bumping dance.
    Nimbulan straightened from his recline against a make-shift backrest of packs. Maia grinned and winked at him around the flute. Her eyes twinkled mischievously. The mole at the side of her mouth taunted him as she puckered her lips to blow into the flute rather than into his ear. He winked back, knowing the delights she promised later.
    How could he have believed himself content with his semicelibate life before joining the Rovers? To them sex was a open and joyous affirmation of life, not some furtive fumbling in the dark—paid for and quickly forgotten.
    He leaned back again, watching the dancers. This clan made their own amusements. Night after night they found something new to while away the long hours of winter darkness. Music dominated their evenings and their days. They all worked hard at assigned tasks, then spent the rest of their time in pursuit of pleasure. He was amazed at the number of hours he had each day for contemplation and