Bakra Bride (10 page)

Someone shouted from the castle walls and Zaren shouted back, identifying himself. The huge gate swung open and the three of them rode inside the walls, up through the courtyard towards a set of stone steps. When they finally reached the bottom of the stairs, both men swung off their horses and stalked up the steps to exchange greetings with another man.

Good heavens, they were all huge in this land. It wasn’t just her warriors. She ignored the possessiveness of her thoughts, brushing aside the implications. Zaren said something to the man and his head swung towards her and she could see the disbelief on his face. Slowly, he walked down the stairs towards her.

He wore his long hair in the same manner as Zaren did with it falling loose except for the two skinny braids in front that framed his face. His hair was black and his eyes a golden-brown, but there was a look in it that was similar to both Zaren and Bador. This man was a warrior. There was a confidence and a sense of authority about him that was slightly intimidating.

Taking the initiative, she thrust out her hand. “Jane Smith. Pleased to meet you.”

He stared at her hand as a slow smile crossed his face, making his rugged features almost handsome. “I am Jarek of the House of Garen. Welcome to my home, Jane Smith.” He took her smaller hand in his, brought it to her lips and kissed it gently before releasing her and stepping back.

The formal greeting made her heart pound. She was more nervous than she wanted to admit. But this was Zaren and Bador’s world. This man was their friend. Their mother was here for heaven’s sakes. Until she could find a way to get home, she had to get along with the people here. At least that’s what she told herself. What other possible reason could she have for wanting to make a good impression? Certainly, it didn’t mean that she wanted them both to be proud of her.

“Christina will want to meet her.” There was a thread of a command beneath his casual comment that had both Zaren and Bador stiffening.

“Of course.” Zaren nodded.

Before she could begin to figure out what that exchange was all about, Zaren was motioning to her. She frowned at him and didn’t move. “It is time to go in,” he beckoned her again.

The man was obtuse. Did he think she’d still be sitting here if she could manage to move? Although, to be fair, he didn’t know she’d been having such a hard time of it. She’d done too good a job hiding her discomfort. “You go ahead. I’ll be along in a few minutes.” Hopefully, he’d take the hint so she could fall off her horse when there was no one around to witness her misery.

“You will come with us now,” he gritted out between his teeth. With his hands on his hips he glared down at her, looking every inch the warrior from the tip of his leather boots to the four-foot sword that was strapped around his waist.

Now she was angry. He was going to make her embarrass herself in front of their host. “I’ll be along in a moment.”

She could see the growing sympathy in Jarek’s eyes and she could feel the heat climbing up her cheeks. Smoothing the fabric of her pajama bottoms down over her knees, she refused to look at the men.

She heard the sound of his boots on the stone stairs as he came towards her. Jane continued to stare at the back of her horse’s head. She was angry enough to scream at Zaren. Plus, her behind and her legs were completely numb.

“Jane.” His voice was soft and cajoling, but she still refused to look at him. “There is nothing to fear here.”

Fine. Dandy. He thought she was afraid. She didn’t know what was worse. Allowing him to believe she was scared or telling him she couldn’t move. “I’m not afraid.” Damn her pride anyway.

“Then come inside.”

“I’d love to come inside,” she finally looked at him and almost cried at the soft concern in his eyes. “There’s just one slight problem.”

“What?”

Sighing, Jane waited for the explosion that was sure to come. “I can’t move.”

Hours later, Jane shivered as she remembered Zaren’s reaction. Even though she knew that his anger hadn’t been directed at her but at himself for not recognizing her difficulty on the trip, it still made her tremble. He hadn’t yelled or berated her at all. His pale blue eyes had glittered like ice and his softly whispered words had made her flinch. “What do you mean?”

It had taken all of her courage to meet his glacial gaze, but she’d done it. Barely. She felt flayed alive by his controlled anger. She didn’t dare wonder what he’d be like if his temper ever slipped its reins. He was scary enough as it was. “I…um…my backside and legs are numb,” she finally blurted.

The vein in the side of his temple pulsed and he actually growled at her as he plucked her off the saddle in one motion. Jane couldn’t suppress the moan of pain as the movement caused a sensation much like pins and needles pricking at her skin to run up and down her legs.

Zaren said nothing, but the muscles in his jaw were working hard as he shifted her high against his chest and stalked back up the stairs. He glared at his host and his brother as if daring them to say anything. “Where is our mother?”

“She is upstairs with Jarmon.” Jane could see that Jarek was trying hard to swallow back his laughter and Bador looked concerned and amused at the same time. This was not the kind of first impression she’d been hoping to make.

“Put me down, I can walk,” she whispered in his ear, not wanting to draw further attention to her.

“No.” His voice was strong and firm as he walked straight through the huge wooden door and into the cooler interior of the castle.

So much for not drawing attention. Both Jarek and Bador turned to look at them and Bador cocked a questioning brow. Jane frowned at him and shook her head before turning to their host and smiling at him. She could see the beginnings of a smile as he turned and continued on up the stairs.

“What do you mean, no? Put me down,” she whispered furiously in his ear.

“You’ll fall flat on your face and then I’ll have to carry you anyway.” She feared he was right, but that was beside the point.

“What will your mother think?” She was mortified at what his mother would think of her.

“She’ll likely give us a lecture on not taking better care of you.” There was an affectionate humor in his words and he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. “And she’d be right. In our hurry to get here, we did not take enough care with you.”

She didn’t like the fact that he was blaming himself for her condition. “It was my decision to say nothing.”

“Yes, it was your decision, but I still should have noticed your discomfort.” Before she could respond to his outrageous statement, he was carrying her into what was obviously a bedroom. The room was hushed and she could sense the desperation in the air.

There was a man lying in the bed with two women, one middle-aged and one around Jane’s age, seated next to him. Bador was leaning over the older woman, brushing a kiss across her cheek. Jane’s stomach clenched as she watched him comfort her.

There was a movement in the shadows on the far side of the bed. Garrik stepped forward and she had to smother back her gasp of surprise. He looked absolutely haggard and so much older than he had when she’d first met him. Had that only been a day ago?

Zaren walked swiftly to the bed and lowered her legs until she was standing, but he kept his arm around her waist. She was grateful for the support, knowing her legs still wouldn’t hold her if he let her go. “Mother,” he spoke softly. “This is Jane.”

Jane bit her lip and swallowed hard as the older woman summoned a weak smile for her. “I’m so glad to meet you, Jane.” The hand that gripped Jane’s was shaking and very cold. “I just wish it could be under better circumstances.”

Jane could feel her heart breaking for the older woman. “I’m sorry about your son.” She didn’t quite know what else to say, but no one seemed to expect anything more.

The other woman stood. Tall and blond, her smile was gentle and kind as she introduced herself. “Welcome to Castle Garen. I’m Christina.” Stepping forward, she gave Jane a quick hug before releasing her. “I only wish the situation was better.” Christina glanced at Zaren before turning back to Jane. “We have much to talk about.”

Jane nodded but wasn’t quite sure how to respond to the woman’s cryptic words.

“Garrik?” Zaren’s voice brought her back to the situation at hand. Although his arm was still around her, his entire focus was on his brother.

Garrik shook his head. “His physical injuries are no longer life-threatening, but he has no will to live.” His eyes, so much like Zaren’s, bore deep into Jane before returning to his brother’s still form lying under the mound of covers. “Leave us.” His command surprised everyone around them and Jane could sense their unease. But Garrik was determined. “Leave. All except Jane.”

Zaren’s eyes narrowed on his brother, but he said nothing. Instead, he moved her until she could support herself against the bed and then helped his mother out of her chair. As if Zaren’s approval was the sign they were all waiting for, everyone filed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind them.

Jane chewed on her bottom lip as she watched them go. What did they expect her to do? A low groan of pain from the bed startled her. Jarmon hadn’t moved since she got here. She hadn’t realized that he was either awake or conscious. “Is he in much pain?”

“Yes.” Garrik’s stark reply and pale face moved her to action.

“What can I do?”

Garrik stared hard at her. “It is not a pretty sight.” Reaching down, he gently turned back the covers.

Jane’s hands flew to her mouth to swallow her gasp. No, it wasn’t a pretty sight. One of his legs was thickly bandaged. She could see another thick padding around his left shoulder and as her gaze moved lower down his arm she realized he was missing two fingers on his left hand. She swallowed audibly as she continued to catalogue his injuries. A red puckered scar ran from the outside corner of his left eye to the corner of his mouth, marring his left cheek.

“He has lost some mobility with his left arm as well as his fingers. He will probably have a limp when he walks.” Garrik stroked a lock of hair away from his brother’s face.

Jane lowered herself until she was sitting on the mattress by Jarmon’s side. He looked so young. “How old is he?”

Garrik’s smile was sad. “We have both seen twenty-two summers.”

Oh God. Jane closed her eyes in pain. She was five years older than they were. They both looked older but were still very young.

“He needs something to live for.” She could see the pleading in his eyes. She nodded and shifted closer as he turned back to Jarmon. “I have brought her, Jarmon. The tapestry has brought our family a treasure. And if you weren’t determined to be so lazy we could have given our older brothers a true contest for the fair and lovely Jane.”

His impassioned speech startled her and she realized that he meant every word he was saying. His eyes burned as he glanced at her before returning his attention to his brother. If Jarmon had been well, she’d be trying to deal with the attentions of all four brothers. She wiped the beads of sweat off her brow. While she wanted their brother well, she wasn’t sorry that she didn’t have to worry about all four of them at once. She was having enough problems dealing with Bador and Zaren.

Garrik had stopped talking while her thoughts had been racing and he looked at her expectantly. Shifting higher on the bed, she cupped Jarmon’s face between her hands. Following her instincts, she bent down and brushed a kiss across his lips. “Jarmon,” she said in a firm tone of voice. “It is time for you to come back now. Your family needs you.”

He gave no indication that he’d even heard her. His pale face was still, but she was almost positive that she’d felt him move ever so slightly, as if trying to pull away from her. Well, too bad. She wasn’t about to let him go. He meant too much to Zaren, Bador and Garrik.

A thought occurred to her and she used what little knowledge she had of their world to try and prod some response from him. “What will happen to your future bride if you do not get well? What will happen to Garrik if you give up? He will not be able to claim her on his own.”

Zaren and Bador both had a huge sense of responsibility to each other and those around them. Jane was counting on the fact that the younger brothers were no different. She suspected that the others were coddling Jarmon, but what he really needed was to be needed. He needed a purpose to live.

“What will happen to your brother?” she prodded ruthlessly. “Or don’t you care about him?” She heard Garrik suck in his breath at her cruel words, but she ignored him. “Maybe you’re too selfish to care about the woman who might be your future bride. Maybe you don’t care if some other man claims her.”

He struck with the intensity and speed of a rattlesnake. His hand shot forward, grabbing hers in an unbreakable grip. “I care.” The words were slightly garbled and his breathing was hard, but he had spoken. His eyes were open and burning with anger. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

Jane could feel the tears on her cheeks as she leaned over him. “I know you do,” she whispered as she brushed his scarred face with a kiss. “Someone just needed to remind you.”

A ghost of a smile played around the edges of his lips, momentarily smoothing out the lines of strain that bracketed his mouth. “Pretty,” he said, squeezing her hand before releasing it, as if suddenly exhausted.

Garrik fell to his knees on the other side of the bed, laid his head on his brother’s chest and wept. It took him several tries, but Jarmon finally managed to raise his ravaged hand high enough to rest it on his brother’s back His eyes were damp and bleak as he stared down at his brother’s bowed head.

Jane knew that his life would not be an easy one, but there was no going back now. He had made the turn towards life again and all that it entailed.

Silently pushing off the bed, she stood and shuffled towards the door. Although she’d momentarily forgotten her own aches and pains, they were still there. Bent over like an old lady, she placed her hands on her back and tried to straighten as she made her way, one painstaking step at a time, towards the door. Both brothers seemed to have forgotten her presence and for that she was glad.