22 Nights (34 page)

They did spend that night by the creek, and there was a warming fire and fresh water. There were blankets, fire, and food—of sorts. There was little conversation and not even a hint that Merin still desired her. Exhausted, they slept deeply. The next morning they rose early and began again.

It was not long into the day before they passed the site of the attack, and though she claimed to be as tough as any man, Bela quickly turned away. There were no wild animals on this mountain. The power of the crystals kept life away, she knew that now. But buzzards had been drawn to the dead and had done their work well. The two bodies which remained on this plateau had been picked practically clean. Had the crystals called the buzzards here to clean up what was left of the invaders who had been so foolish as to come here?

Though he did not dare to do so openly, Merin protected her from the gruesome sight by always managing to place his body between her and the remains. She would not think of chastising him for being so protective. Not now, when she appreciated his efforts so much. Not now, when she understood him. He was a good man, through and through.

They were well away from the site of the battle when he suggested that they stop for a few minutes. She would not argue with him, not when she wanted nothing more than to rest, even if for a short while.

He leaned against a rock wall and studied her in that intense way he had. Dark eyes smart, and even cunning and dangerous, looked her up and down before he asked, “Have you felt the influence of Kitty or any of her kind since we left the waterfall?”

“No,” Bela said. “But just because we can’t feel their influence, does that mean it isn’t there?”

“Not necessarily, but I suspect we’re safer with distance. Otherwise . . .”

“Otherwise there would have been chaos in the village long ago.”

“Exactly.”

Bela glanced up, grateful for the distance between her and the crystals. “They must scare away the miners who come too close,” she said. “All through the mountain range there are Turi miners digging and panning for gems, but there’s no one here. Even though the mountain is forbidden, surely some brave ones came exploring, or got lost as Clyn did. And yet, they did not stay. They knew, as the animals have known, that they are not welcomed here, not as we were welcome. The crystals scare away what they do not want on their lands. They influence all that they can.”

“That makes sense,” Merin said casually.

Bela narrowed her eyes. “So, it makes sense that where their influence ends is where we will begin to see people and animals again.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think buzzards count.”

Merin almost smiled. His lips twitched a little.

“What are we going to do?” she asked bluntly. She wasn’t sure if Merin was still considering staying married to her, or if he planned to ride away and leave her behind. Surely he would not think of offering her to his emperor, not after all they had been through. They could cut the rope that bound them at any time, and just tell the others, when they returned to the village, that they’d changed their minds about dissolving the marriage—Merin’s blasted honor about breaking his word aside. She could do the cutting, if he refused. Some would talk, yes, but did she really care? They would be married, and that was all that mattered to her.

Was it important that Merin had not touched her since he’d seen the cavern carvings? Had the destiny portrayed on those walls frightened him away from her?

“We should arrive in the village in two and a half days, if we do not tarry,” he said.

“Yes,” she responded, knowing full well how far they had to travel.

This time he did smile, and it was lovely. “Once we’re there and Forbidden Mountain is behind us, I suggest we present ourselves to your parents, tell them we intend to remain married, and cut the cord together.”

Bela almost sighed in relief, and then Merin said,

“Unless . . .”

“Unless what?” she snapped.

“Unless once we get to the village, we realize that what we’ve been experiencing has not been real. If either of us decides marriage is not what we want, then we will remain bound until the dissolution is complete. Just a few more days, Bela.”

It had been on her mind, so she had to ask. “Is that why you have not touched me since we left the mountain? Are you less than sure?”

Dark eyes smoldered. “I am very sure of what I want,” Merin said, “and I do not expect to change my mind. I rarely do. However, I’m not so certain about you.”

“Me? ”

“You have never cared for marriage before now.”

“You were not here,” she said honestly.

“And you’re a little twitchy without Kitty. You’re uncertain and worried and maybe a little obsessed. You miss her too much.”

“How do you know all that?” she asked, annoyed. Could he reach into her mind as Kitty had done?

“It’s on your face, Bela. I see it well.”

It was true enough that she had never been good at hiding her feelings, and Merin knew her as well as anyone else. Perhaps better than anyone else. “I don’t expect to change my mind, either,” she said.

“Even if marriage to me means your daughter will be a warrior? ”

Her heart skipped a beat. That possibility still concerned her greatly. There could already be a daughter, conceived on that night—or that morning—before they had entered the mountain. Then again, the destined warrior might not yet exist, not even as a seed in her belly. It was just too soon to tell. “You said we could make our own destiny.”

“I hope we can,” he said softly.

She could see very well the life she might make with Merin. Here or in his world, in Arthes, it did not matter where. She could imagine, so well, sleeping with him each night. She could almost see their children, boys and girls with their father’s strength and their mother’s stubbornness. That should be terrifying, but somehow the idea was soothing and heartwarming. She wanted it so much. Would she feel the same way when they were off this blasted rock?

Yes, yes she would. There was no magic in the feelings she experienced, none other than that which they made.

“I can’t imagine myself married to any other man,” Bela said softly. “I can’t imagine giving myself body and soul to any other.” If she was going to open her heart and bleed, she might as well go all the way. “I would rather die.”

“You have ruined me for other women, Bela,” Merin said. “There is not another like you.”

Frustration caught up with her. “So why haven’t you touched me in more days than I can count?”

Again he seemed to smolder. “If we both feel the same way once we get to the village, then trust me, you will not be safe for very long.”

Bela managed a smile. “I do not wish to be safe, not from you.” She leaned slightly toward him, already thinking again of keeping him as her husband and what they would be like in the years to come. Her imagination was quite vivid in that respect.

Would their emotions change when they were off Forbidden Mountain? If Merin did not feel the same when they left this place, if he did not look at her this way and speak so wonderfully of keeping her, she would let him go. Even if she was already with child, even if they had to remain husband and wife, separated by the distance of a great country, she would let him go and she would raise her child alone.

And she would never love another man. She would have dreams of Merin, and they would have to be enough. “Time to get moving,” she said, leading the way down the path as quickly as was safe. She would not know what her future held until they were off this blasted rock!

GOING
down the mountain was a bit less arduous than going up, but no less dangerous, especially on the steepest part of the journey. They stopped to sleep when darkness and exhaustion made it necessary, but they were both anxious to get to the village as soon as possible. Neither was pleased that they were behind schedule, thanks to the treacherous mountain exit that had dumped them out on the wrong side.

Near the foot of the mountain the curves flattened and the jagged rocks smoothed somewhat. When it was possible, they ran. Not that either of them could get very far from the other, with the braided rope connecting them. Merin sometimes purposely fell behind just so he could watch Bela run. No other woman moved as she did, no other would find such joy in racing down a mountainside. Yes, he loved her. That would not change. He would not allow it.

After nearly three weeks of suffering at their hands, the once bright red, white, and black braid that stretched between them was dulled and frayed. It was gray in many places and appeared weak in others, but the rope remained strong, as a proper marriage should in times of trouble. Perhaps this marriage dissolution ceremony was not a ridiculous Turi custom after all. Perhaps it was very, very smart.

It was late in the evening when they arrived at the far edge of the village. Bela tensed, and so did Merin, as they walked toward her family home, where they would sever the rope together, making it clear they intended to remain married—unless she changed her mind before they got that far.

The small farmhouse they walked past was too quiet. No one was about. No smoke rose from the chimney, at a time of day when the farmer’s wife should be cooking supper for her family. A gust of wind made the tall grasses in their path dance, and a chill walked up Merin’s spine. In the distance the village sat as it always had, but it, too, was more still than it should be.

“Something is wrong,” Bela said softly, mirroring his thoughts.

Merin agreed with a nod of his head. There was an air of tension even here, a good distance from the village, and he smelled battle—he smelled smoke and blood.

They ran again, trotting at an increasingly frantic pace. When they reached the far end of the muddy main thoroughfare that ran through the Turi village straight as an arrow, the scene before them said it all. Wounded men sat around the village square, being tended by the women. Five men not of this village—also wounded—were bound together and placed off to the side. No one tended to their injuries. One of the prisoners was the red-headed Nobel, who bled from a nasty wound to his left arm as well as from his slashed thigh. A blazing fire lit the center of town.

“The bastard attacked early,” Bela said angrily, as they began to run again. “I should’ve known we could not trust him!”

“Why would he attack early?” Merin asked. “For all he knew, he was going to get what he wanted.”

“Perhaps he did not trust your word and wished to take us by surprise,” Bela suggested.

“Possible.”

Heads turned as Bela and Merin walked toward the center of the square, where Turi soldiers, wounded and unwounded, had gathered. Most of their faces were drawn, the men exhausted by battle. Merin could see that Bela was searching anxiously for her father and her brothers.

It was Tyman who saw them, Tyman who raced away from the gathering to meet them. He was not wounded, not that Merin could see, but he was battle-weary. His eyes said too much.

“Where have you two been?” Bela’s more difficult brother asked in a too-loud voice. “Blast you both, we could’ve used your swords when Nobel attacked. We expected you to be here.”

“We were delayed,” Bela said, her eyes studying the wounded men, men she knew. Merin knew that look; she was not only searching for who was wounded but to also see who was missing. “It was unavoidable. Besides, how were we to know he would attack early?”

Tyman glared at his sister with dark, accusing eyes. “Good God, you cannot even count the days.” He drew his blood-encrusted sword and swung it high, then quickly and precisely brought it down onto the rope which bound Merin and Bela. The sharp blade easily sliced through the frayed fabric.

“No!” Bela protested, but it was too late. The braid swung free.

“Never fear, little sister, your sad little marriage is undone,” Tyman said harshly.

“It is not!” Bela shouted. “We did not lose count of the days!”

“Your marriage was undone yesterday, as scheduled,” her brother said. He glanced at Merin with rage in his eyes. This was a rage that had nothing to do with his sister, and had everything to do with an obviously difficult battle—a battle the Turis had won, but not easily. “Congratulations, General, you are a free man.”

Merin knew he had not miscounted the time that had passed since leaving this village in search of knowledge about Kitty. The marriage would not be undone for another three and a half days.

And then he realized with a sick twist in his stomach what had happened. The nap they had taken in the cavern, the short period of sleep they had claimed in order to recover their strength after walking through the water and listening to the insistent crystal voices . . . it had not been a short nap at all. They had passed
days
on that cold rock bed.

 

THOUGH
she and Merin were no longer bound together, they moved as if they were. It was habit, Bela supposed, and she was glad enough of it. She was not ready to be far from the man she had come to love so much.