Adaz 


Although she was tired, Adaz fought against sleep.  She was feeling 
too good, too warm inside, to sleep; she wanted to cherish the 
feeling.  
	But perhaps there was another reason; the nagging feeling in 
the back of her mind finally forced her into action.  Sitting up, she 
reached out in the darkness and rotated the top of her husband-made 
lantern.  A sliver of magical light sprang from its confinement, 
lancing up to the ceiling and dimly illuminating the room.  Adaz rose 
and, as she put on a nightshirt, gazed lovingly at her peacefully 
sleeping husband.  Picking up the lantern, she left their bedroom and 
walked silently through the outer chamber to Federick's bed.  The 
child, already awake, squealed with delight upon seeing his mother.  
	"As I thought," Adaz whispered.  "You silly child, there are 
three of us at your beck and call.  All you need to do is scream."  
Federick laughed as Adaz gathered him in her arms.  "Shhh, there's no 
sense waking Katrina now, though I doubt we need worry about your 
father.  I think he'll sleep into next week."  As she sat down in the 
rocking chair, Adaz added, "Be good for him, okay?  He's had a very 
hard month."  Adaz was silent for a time before whispering, "But it 
looks like we'll finally be a family again, little one."  Federick 
yawned and nuzzled his mother's breast as he closed his eyes.  
	Adaz smiled down at what was to be her only child.  Sutekh 
claimed that his blood was a curse and that they should not try 
Delleb's blessings too far, but Adaz cared little for that; Sutekh 
rarely knew what was good for him.  However, despite the healing
powers of Delleb's clergy, Federick's birth had nearly slain
her, and her breasts had proven empty when her son had first needed 
nourishment.  The midwife had explained to Adaz that, no matter how
she felt in her heart, her body was simply not that of a mother.
That was something Adaz could understand, so twice a month she drank 
the horrid potions that Sutekh provided for her at considerable 
expense.  Yet, in the back of her mind there still lingered a glimmer 
of hope that the magic of the potions might someday fail and she would 
give Sutekh a daughter.  The birth would be easier the next time, of 
that she was sure, for her body was younger now than when Federick had 
been born.  Since then Sutekh had taken several of her years upon 
himself.  
	Adaz sighed.  Sutekh planned for the two of them to live 
another couple of centuries, thus tripling Adaz's life span while 
shortening Sutekh's by more than half.  He seemed to think that these 
were acceptable figures, although what his criteria was Adaz neither 
knew nor cared.  Also, Sutekh believed that such life spans would keep 
them from surviving their son, something both he and Adaz wished to 
avoid, but Adaz knew better.  Federick was the son of Sutekh 
ElfFriend, the reincarnation of a holy warrior, and named after a 
prince among unicorns who, although only Yolande, Sutekh, and Adaz 
knew it, played at being a prince among elves.  Little Federick would 
not die of old age.  
	"But I can promise you a wonderful childhood, little one," 
Adaz whispered to her sleeping child.  "And when it comes time for you 
to draw your sword for whatever cause Delleb foresees, I assure you 
that you will be prepared."  
	Adaz returned the toddler to his bed and, kissing him 
good-night, padded into the bedroom.  Setting the lantern on the 
nightstand, she sat down on the bed, folding her legs under her, and 
smiled at the reason for the miraculous turn around in her life;
Sutekh.  Her smile increased as she recalled the activities of the
evening, their first night together in nearly a month.
	In his wife's absence Sutekh had rolled over in search of her.  
He now was lying on his stomach, the covers pulled away from his back.  
Adaz reached out and gently stroked her husband's shoulders.  He 
smiled in response, a smile that delighted Adaz, for it was the reason 
Sutekh now chose sleep over meditation.  Adaz had been very 
disappointed upon discovering that, when he meditated, her husband's 
body did not react to hers; he did not seek her touch in the night, he 
did not cuddle her when they met, he did not smile at her touch.  
Sutekh slept for her.  
	Adaz's fingertips traced her husband's spine, then, brushing 
to the right, encountered the only scar on Sutekh's back; a knife 
wound near the kidney, the surrounding flesh having been marred by 
poison.  Pride filled her as she recalled the terrible fate of the 
would-be assassin, though the thought caused her to shuddered as well.  
She was also proud that, of Sutekh's many scars, this was the only one 
on his back.  
	Adaz suddenly pulled her hand away from the scar, chiding 
herself.  If Sutekh knew of her pride, would he ever again flee 
combat?  And what of his constant struggle against his own violent 
nature?  
	"Silly woman."  
	Yet Adaz was proud of him, fiercely proud.  Thinking back over 
the events of the last month, she found it hard to believe that she 
was the wife of the man sleeping before her.  
	Sutekh and dear, sweet Argent had been traveling to Chendl to
speak with King Belvor in an effort to end the Purity Movement.
Enroute, they had been ambushed by the orcs of Iuz, and that skirmish
had erupted into the climax of Furyondy's religious struggle.  Argent
and Sutekh had been separated in the fighting, never again to see
each other until the final moments of Argent's life.  Apart, they had 
followed two different paths to the same destination.  Sutekh had 
stolen into the presense of the king and ripped aside the facade of 
the lords supporting the Movement, revealing their treachery; but 
Argent's had been the harder road.  The priests of Heironeous, in an 
effort to help the Movement, had attempted to summon their god.  
Though they called a god, and a god answered, it had not been 
Heironeous.  Argent had given his life banishing an incarnation of 
evil that would have destroyed Furyondy and more.
	Sutekh, aided by the king's mage, had returned to Sanctuary 
with all magical speed, arriving a week ahead of a column of the 
king's elite, but only days ahead of a raiding company from Iuz.  They 
had been sent to destroy Sanctuary and hand the refugees over to a 
lord in the Movement whose sparsely populated lands bordered 
Sanctuary's.  Over two hundred orcs, led by an unholy warrior and 
assisted by a mage, had met Sutekh, a phantom of fire and magic and 
steel.  Those orcs who survived the first day of battle had fled; 
Sutekh had followed.  Four days later, when the invaders believed 
themselves safe, he had attacked again.  Sutekh was the only survivor 
of that night of fire.  
	Adaz looked upon her husband with love and wonder.  Her 
husband; warrior, phantom, demon; yet merciful, gentle, loving, and...  
Adaz smiled as she again recalled their recent love making...  fun.  
	Shaking her head, Adaz enjoyed the feeling of her hair 
swishing about her face.  It was at last longer than Sutekh's, and in 
her mind it was the symbol of her beauty and her love for Sutekh.  
Adaz had been fourteen when she had first been raped.  Since then she
had hidden from men in the physical strength, mannerisms, unflattering
clothing, and swaggering arrogance of men, which had included keeping
her hair hacked short.  But she had not cut it since leaving Celene;
she no longer felt the need, especially now.  Adaz had seen the look
in the eyes of the king's guard when they had returned from the field
of Sutekh's battle.  What man would dare touch her now?  She was the
wife of Sutekh ElfFriend, destroyer of armies, friend of rulers, and
he who had overcome a hatred nearly as old as Oerth itself.  
	"Sutekh Altariel ElfFriend," Adaz corrected herself, honored 
that he had taken her name.  With the disappearance of her beloved 
uncle when she was seven, Adaz had become the last of her family.  
Now, within the last year, there had been two distinguished additions.  
	At last Sutekh stirred.  Adaz wondered at the peace in his 
heart for him to sleep so long with someone watching him; in all his 
years of traveling the wilds, he had never been taken unaware in his 
sleep.  
	"What's wrong?" Sutekh asked with a furrowed brow.  
	Adaz smiled.  "Absolutely nothing, my love."  
	"Then sleep.  You may have need of your strength in the 
morning," he said promisingly through a yawn.  
	Adaz laughed quietly and climbed under the covers.  She leaned 
over to close the lantern, only to lie back down and find herself in 
her husband's arms.  
	Sutekh went back to sleep almost immediately, but Adaz still 
had no desire to sleep.  However, she soon succumbed to the magic of 
Sutekh's rhythmic breathing.


						Jeff Stehman