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Authors: Linda Winstead Jones

22 Nights (14 page)

BOOK: 22 Nights
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Bela cast a glance at her husband. What seemed like moments ago, he’d been caught up in need and lust and, well, her. Now he was every bit the general, displaying no weaknesses, no needs at all. He was, in fact, quite impressive. Any woman would be proud to call this man husband, even if temporarily.
“Before I order that done,” Nobel said, “I must inform you that I have a large number of loyal men waiting not far away. If I and my companions don’t return to them very soon, they will fall upon this village like a plague. They will spare no one.” His eyes flitted over the villagers who watched, and he smiled, not at all shamed to threaten bodily harm to the weakest among them.
“We have fought the likes of you before,” Bela’s father said with anger.
“And you lost many of your clan in the process,” Nobel reminded him. “Do you want that for your people again? Do you want to see the funeral pyres burn night after night after night?”
He did not. None of them did.
“How do we know you’re not lying?” Clyn asked.
“See for yourselves.” Nobel pointed in the direction of the river, where a constant Turi guard watched for invaders. In the distance, a gentle hill that looked over the village was lined with mounted men. Nobel’s men. Bela could not help but wonder what had happened to the guard who had been stationed there. Even the best among them couldn’t defeat so many armed men.
Nobel raised a hand and Bela’s mother was released. Gayene fell into her husband’s arms, unharmed but obviously terrified.
“Here is my proposition,” Nobel said. “I will wait for Bela’s current marriage to be dissolved, and then we will be wed.” He looked at Merin, bolder than he should’ve been. “Don’t look at me with such disapproval, General. It’s obvious you don’t want her. I do. You should not complain that I will be waiting for your departure.”
“Well, you’re out of luck,” Bela said, intent on telling Nobel of Emperor Jahn’s plans.
Merin reached out and snagged her hand, squeezing it too tightly. “Don’t argue with the man, you exasperating woman. Be still, for once.”
She turned to glare at him. Exasperating woman? Be
still
? And how dare he stop her from . . . His eyes caught hers and she instantly understood. For some reason Merin did not want Nobel to know that she was to make a trip to Arthes to be introduced to the bride-seeking emperor.
Nobel turned away with a smile on his face, and he reached for a bulging sack which hung from his horse’s saddle. He tossed the bag carelessly; it landed at Bela’s feet. The unbound sack hit the ground hard, and from the opening a few colorful stones spilled out. Most of them were red and dark blue, like the stones found in the Turi Mountains, but many were a pale yellow, almost clear in color. “My first payment for my bride,” he said. “It’s quite generous, don’t you think? The rest will be delivered on our wedding night, sweetheart.” He had the audacity to wink at her.
Bela surged forward. “I will never marry you, Nobel Andyrs! If there was no other man on this earth, life as we know it would end because I would not allow you anywhere near me! Try to purchase me as if I were a horse—
try
—and I will send Kitty toward another part of your body. You’ll wish she’d aimed higher and taken another finger when I’m . . .”
She stopped speaking when Merin yanked on the rope that bound them and she fell back so hard she ended up on her ass in the dirt. Nobel and all his men laughed, and then Nobel looked down at her with something besides lust in his pale blue eyes. She could not help but shiver.
“You
will
marry me, Bela, because if you don’t, my men will raze this village to the ground. No one will be spared. Not your family, not the women, not the children. No building will remain standing. No sow or dog will live when we are done. Every field will burn.”
A chill ran down her spine. This was beyond madness. Why? Why would he wish to wed her when with his new-found wealth he could have any other woman . . . as long as the woman in question was not too discriminating about the man she called husband.
“Say nothing,” Merin commanded softly, before turning his attentions to the red-haired interloper. “The marriage will be done fourteen days from tomorrow morning. Don’t show your face here before then. Is that understood?”
“Of course, General,” Nobel said with a touch of humor. “I’ll see you then.”
Nobel and his men rode toward the waiting riders—the waiting army. Bela and her family stood there in stunned silence and watched them go.
None dared to challenge the Turis, but Nobel dared. None should want her, but Nobel did. Nobel Andyrs should not be capable of raising an army of men willing to listen to him, but apparently he was.
Merin offered her a hand to assist her from the dirt, a hand she refused as she struggled to her feet. “I don’t care what he says, I won’t marry him. I’d rather stay married to Merin, if I must!” It was intended as an insult, but didn’t come out sounding at all insulting.
She tried to imagine Nobel touching her as Merin had last night, and she immediately felt weak and queasy, as if she’d eaten something bad. “You got it wrong, you know,” she said in a calmer voice. “The marriage will be done in thirteen days, come tomorrow morning. Thirteen, not fourteen.”
“I know,” Merin said in a low voice.
“Then why?”
Merin pinned his eyes on her. “I bought us another day, that is all.” Then he turned to Bela’s father, general to chieftain. “I suggest we discuss this situation in the privacy of your home. Now.”
“There is no need for privacy,” the chieftain said. “We must devise a plan, and I need the men of this village with me in order to do what must be done. We will defend our homes and our people from Nobel and his men.”
Merin moved closer to the chieftain, all but dragging Bela with him. “There is a spy in your village,” he said in a lowered voice. “Until we know who that traitor is, we cannot involve anyone beyond the immediate family.”
Bela’s father stubbornly lifted his chin. “None of my people would dare . . .”
“Then how did Nobel know that Bela and I were in the process of undoing this marriage? He was not surprised to see the rope that binds us. Someone told him.”
 
CAYSE
Trinity stared at the woman he had just killed. As with the others who littered this battlefield, he had taken her life quickly, as painlessly as possible, and without regret. He did not intend for anyone to suffer at his hands, least of all a woman.
Something was wrong here. This pudgy hag could not possibly be the potential bride he’d been sent to kill. She was an old woman, not fit to be empress for a ruler who was barely past his thirtieth year. It did not take long for him to discern what had happened. The opposite door of the carriage, the one he had not been able to see while fighting the sentinels, stood open.
Did the woman he had been hired to kill think she could escape? And what kind of lady fled and left her companion behind? A selfish one, he imagined. Or a smart one. There was no way the hag could’ve kept pace with a younger woman fleeing for her life.
He was not overly concerned by this turn of events. He’d find Lady Leyla, and he’d finish the job he’d been well paid to do. In fact, he was a little bit pleased that this mission wasn’t as easy as he’d first thought it would be. Everything was so easy for him these days that he welcomed a little challenge.
Not that chasing down a pretty woman would be so hard.
Trinity exited the carriage, leaving the body of the old woman where it lay. He patted the silky black neck of his fine and faithful stallion Gano, an animal who had served him well, and surveyed the scene before him. This was an almost peaceful little valley, or had been before he’d ambushed the party. Now it was littered with bodies and would be peaceful no more.
Before entering the woods to give chase, Trinity made sure all those he had killed were well and completely dead. Magic was not unheard of in this part of the world, and he knew too well that sometimes death was not the end. Sometimes death was a trick, an illusion. Trinity pushed at one man after another with the toe of his black boot. He looked deeply into their blank, lifeless eyes. The sentinels and the one official were all good and dead, much to Trinity’s relief.
He’d expected sentinels to provide him with a more vigorous battle, but these young men had not put up much of a fight. They’d been surprised by the attack, and none could match his speed. None was as good at killing as he was. It had all been over too soon, much too soon.
Trinity had been dead once. His own death hadn’t lasted long, however. His inept witch of a mother had worked a spell to bring her beloved son back to life, but she’d made a miscalculation along the way.
She had saved him, but he could not die again.
He had lived on this earth for nearly five hundred and forty years, most of that time hidden away on a mountain-top in the far north part of the world, half mad and wishing for the death he could never have. He’d tried to find death at his own hand many times, but he always lived. He could feel pain, however, which made the attempts at ending his own life quickly lose their appeal.
Eventually he had left the ice and snow of the north and moved toward civilization. Eventually someone had found him, someone who had discovered what he was. That someone had taught him that he did have a purpose to serve. Perhaps he could not die, but he could send others to the afterlife, when it was their time.
It was Lady Leyla Hagan’s time.
Just as he was about to lead his stallion into the forest, Trinity studied the battlefield and frowned. There was an extra horse, and the saddle upon it was not of imperial issue. Perhaps the lady of the party had ridden on occasion, but he didn’t think so. A man’s saddle was strapped to the horse’s back, not a sidesaddle which a proper lady would’ve insisted upon. It was a decent enough saddle, but not one which a fine lady might possess.
Lady Leyla had not made her escape alone.
Trinity smiled as he turned toward the thick woods, giving the twosome who had escaped his initial attack a bit of a head start. He might as well take a few moments and grab a bite to eat before giving chase. He always carried food in his saddlebags. Perhaps he could not starve to death, but being hungry was truly uncomfortable, and killing always gave him a fierce appetite.
Rare moments of anticipation were among the few joys he had left in his unbearably long life, and as he chewed on a hard biscuit, he imagined tracking down the fleeing couple through the night.
This might be fun. Cayse Trinity hadn’t had fun in a very long time.
 
CHIEFTAIN
Valeron had not been easy to sway, but finally Merin had what he wanted: the Haythorne family in a closed room. No outsiders were allowed, and the doors to this main hall were closed even against their trusted servants.
The guard at the entrance to the village had been found wounded and bound, but very much alive. Nobel was being very careful not to harm anyone, not yet. He did not want war, not if it could be helped. He wanted Bela.
“I still cannot believe that anyone in the village would betray us to one such as Nobel,” Lady Gayene said.
It was Clyn who looked his mother in the eye and said, “The general is correct. Nobel knew too much.”
“Perhaps he bought his information from someone who is in dire need. It’s apparent he’s amassed quite a lot of gems since he left us.” Gayene’s eyes lit up. “Maybe the person who told him about Bela and the general didn’t know Nobel’s intentions.”
They began to discuss and submit and deny possible traitors, all of them talking at once. Names Merin knew and names he did not know were bandied about. Everyone was passionate about who among them might become a betrayer, for riches or out of ignorance.
“It doesn’t matter who the traitor is,” he interrupted when the names and voices began to blur. “Not yet, at least. It might actually turn out to be a good thing, as Nobel’s appearance today warned us of his intentions. He might’ve simply ridden in with his men, slaughtered anyone in his way, and taken Bela by force.”
“He could try,” Bela said softly.
Her words and her tone were tough, but he had seen the fear in her eyes when her mother had been threatened. “Has he always had an interest in you?” Merin asked, his eyes on Bela.
“For a time,” she said, sounding as much puzzled as angry. “But I made it clear that I was not interested and he turned his attentions to others. He always flirted with the prettiest girls with the frilliest dresses and the silliest giggles after he recovered from our last encounter.” She wrinkled her nose.
“You took his fingers?” he asked.
“That was Kitty. He had the audacity to make a grab for her, not knowing that she has the ability to move and even to fight on her own.” Bela grimaced a little. “I did not know that she could be so harsh, but she did not like Nobel at all.”
It surely had not been pleasant to watch Kitty defend herself and send Nobel’s fingers to the ground in the process. Merin had seen worse. All who’d fought in the war against Ciro had seen worse, but no matter how manly Bela tried to be, she was still a woman, and women should not be subjected to such bloody sights.
It was necessary
.
Merin knew the words he heard came from Kitty and were for him alone. Even Bela seemed not to hear.
Apparently the magical weapon could read his thoughts. That was disturbing.
“He wants Kitty,” Merin said, still feeling slightly ridiculous referring to the sword by name. “Even if he can have her only through you.”
“Yes, but why?” Bela asked. “He cannot touch her; she won’t allow it. Even if I was his wife, he would not be able to touch her.”
“Are you so sure?” Merin asked. “I can hear her. Perhaps any man who is your husband . . .”
“What?” Tyman, who had been sitting silent and sulking, shot to his feet. “You heard Kitty? She has chosen you?”
BOOK: 22 Nights
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