Hers to Choose (8 page)

He could feel the warm seep of blood in his groin where his wound had reopened. He pressed his hand against it gently, trying to stop the flow. The material tightened,
delineating his partial arousal.

“Sophi, we work together
from now on. Agreed? No more darting off on your own. It is not my intention to hinder your command, but I cannot help you if I don’t know where you are.” He took a deep breath and scrubbed at his face. “And once again, a timely intervention. Thank you.”

A small smile pulled up the co
rners of her lush lips. “Agreed—no more ‘darting off’ and you are welcome.” Her eyes wandered to the hand at his groin and she frowned.

“You have opened it again. Before we leave this place, let me dress it.” With a hint at her old manner
, she added, “I’ll give you a
much
bigger cloth.”

With a snort, he turned and they led their horses back
toward the narrow passage. He stopped before the hulking body of the alpha wolf and placed his foot on the animal’s neck. After three attempts, he jerked his saber from the beast’s skull.

She looked up at him. “
Before my precipitate flight, you were going to tell me your plan.”

“
Hmm. We cannot stay here a moment longer than necessary. I want you to send your women back to
Sh’r Un Kree.
I’ll send my men with them for protection.” He couldn’t help a wry huff. “Though it is debatable who protects whom. If Petrina’s information is correct and
Sh’r Un Kree
is Krakoll’s target, the villagers will need all the help they can get. You and I are going to ride as hard and fast in the opposite direction as horses will take us, for Sylvan Mintoth. We cannot risk the Haarb capturing you. I must get you behind the shield walls of the sigil towers, Sophi. It is the only place you will be safe.”

Eric
watched as Sophi stiffened and closed her eyes, her posture rigid, her fists clenched. As she relaxed, her aqua eyes slowly opened and met his.

“All right.”

Sophi thought her body hard, toughened. After four years of daily riding, she thought she could match any pace Eric set. But she had not imagined a merciless flight that took no notice of night or day, rough terrain or smooth. They stopped only to water and feed their horses then they struck out again. Their journey across the wastelands stretched into stupefying days of riding and walking then riding again. Finally, when Eric had righted her on her horse for the second time within a span of minutes, he allowed them to stop, dismount and rest. A skeletal tree protected them from the blazing sun.

“The ground sways like a horse, Eric, make it stop.” She lifted her head from where it rested against the tree trunk. He held her spyglass trained
in the direction they had just covered. She didn’t like the look on his face.

He turned to
her and handed her the glass. “Follow our back trail.”

Focusing the glass, she scanned the ground they had covered, intently peering through the glass
. Movement. Two gray shapes, trotting along easily. “Goddess, Eric.
Fell
wolves.”

“Yes. Now look behind them.”

She tore herself away from watching certain death or capture approach. “Lizard men. Krakoll’s killers.” She collapsed the spyglass. “How far ahead are we?”

“
We have about a four-hour head start. I’m sorry, Sophi, back on your horse.”

Every
joint in her body protested movement. Her normal easy vault to mount became a study in ludicrous, uncoordinated squirming. She finally swung her leg over the horse’s back and straightened. “How much further to the shield wall gate?”

“Another five to six hours of hard riding.
They will probably send the wolves ahead. If we can outrun the wolves, we might have a chance.” His eyes asked a question she dreaded answering.

“I can do it, Eric.”
I hope.

He nodded and kicked his horse into a gallop.
Fisting her hands into her mount’s mane, she followed.

She could not remember a more tortuous ride. When they had to
slow for the horses to catch their wind, Eric brought out the spyglass and tracked the figures following them. The forbidding set to his mouth told her everything she didn’t want to know about their pursuers.

“How can they be gaining on us? How?” she asked.

“They don’t have to stop. It is part of their genetic mutation. Each time we must rest the horses, the wolves gain on us. Ten minutes here, twenty minutes there. It adds up.”

Finally she voiced aloud the question
shadowing both of them. “Will we make it before they catch us?”

“It’s going to be a near thing, Sophi.
If they reach us, you must ride hard for the gate. No slowing down for
any
reason.” He held her eyes steadily.

“What?
What do you mean? Oh, no. No!” She shook her head vigorously. “No. I won’t do it. I won’t be separated from you. You aren’t staying behind to die so I can ride to safety. We are going through that gate
together
.”

“Only if there is no other choice, Sophi. I don’t like my chances against two
Fell
wolves. But it may be the only way to get you to safety.”

“No, it won’t come to that.” She whipped her flagging mount
into a canter and rode eastward.

“There, Sophi! Do you see the break in the diamond haze?” Eric shouted to her as their horses labored on, though themselves exhausted, now spurred by the banshee howls of the
Fell
wolves now within sight.

“Yes! I see it!” She reined her animal toward it and prayed.
Not native to Verdantia, the wolves couldn’t cross the energy field. The gate meant safety.

She kept glancing back as th
ey approached the gate. The
Fell
wolves gained ground inexorably. It seemed the distance to the gate grew while the distance to the death that chased them shrank. Her fight to contain her panic matched her struggle to stay on her floundering horse. The poor creature was at its limit. So was she.

“Sophi, ride harder. Go!”

As she whipped her horse uselessly, she glanced back. “No!” she shrieked. “No, Eric! No!”

While
her animal pounded toward the shimmering gate and safety, Eric had drawn up, turned his undersized desert mount and waited, resolute, for the snarling predators.

She sawed
on the reins, but the
Fell
wolves managed what her whip could not. Her horse bolted in mindless terror. Her arms lacked the strength to do anything but hang on. She careened through the shimmering gate into safety.

She heard the sentry’s cries of
, “Halt! Halt!” Finally, her mount responded to her commands to slow and she pulled into a circle in the garrison yard.

“Commander
DeStroia is on the other side of that gate under attack! I am Lady Sophillia Glorianna DeLorion. I command you, help him, now! Help him!” Not waiting to see the results of her screamed orders, she lashed her horse back through the shimmering gate, reaching into her quiver for an arrow.
Hang on, Eric.
A sob rose in her chest.
Please, please, hang on.

If she had allowed any thought to penetrate her concentration
, she would have screamed in terror. Eric hacked and stabbed violently, frantically, at one of the great creatures while the other circled warily, looking for an opening.
He will die mere feet from safety!

She did
not think about her actions. There was no time. Nocking an arrow, she let it fly, striking the circling beast in the side of his gaping mouth.
I missed! Oh, Goddess, I missed
. With a bellow of pain, it swung its crazed red eyes to her. Changing its direction, the abomination began stalking her, its low-slung pace quickening into a slow run. Her heart beat into her throat.
Goddess, help me.
What have I done!

Eric’s horse screamed and
crashed to the earth, pulled off its feet by the momentum of the wolf lunging for its rider. He spilled beside it in a sprawling slide.

Eric!

He jumped to his feet to meet the snarling attack of the unnatural fiend. If he would die in the jaws of a
Fell
wolf, then so would she. She grabbed another arrow from her quiver.
And like Eric, I will fight every step of the way.
As she sighted down her arrow—
Ppfftt! Ppfftt! Ppfftt!—
a cluster of slim metal bolts bloomed in the face of the springing
Fell
wolf.

Five riders had burst through the shield wall gate.
Wicked, repeating crossbows hurled flight after flight of metal quarrels into the pair of huge beasts. In frenzied madness, the creatures bit and clawed at the swarm of needle-sharp bolts, distracted from their prey.

“Eric, run! R
un!” she screamed. Sophi lashed her horse toward him. She held out her arm and he swung up behind. Turning, she whipped into a gallop and pounded back through the shield wall gate.

Once again
, she hauled at the reins fruitlessly. When her horse staggered to a halt, nose pressed to the walls of the courtyard, she sat motionless upon its back, numb, a breath away from crumpling into a shapeless heap in the dirt. Eric slid to the ground and held his arms out to her. “Sophi, slide down. I’ll catch you.”

She
fell into his stalwart, waiting arms. But for his support, she would have collapsed at his feet. Nothing in her life’s memory felt better than the warm beat of his heart pressed against her cheek. He lived.

She allowed his
steadfast warmth to envelop her in comfort for a long moment before reaction set in. She raised her fists and pummeled his chest. “You could have died! Do you hear me? You could have died!” She wrapped his neck in a stranglehold and buried her face in his chest to keep from sobbing aloud. In a broken voice, she whispered, “You could have died.”

The
dirt-laden sweat dampening her cheek, the smell of unwashed male, the scrape of his unshaven cheek, all suddenly seemed inexpressibly dear proof he lived.

“But I didn’t. My brave Sophi. I didn’t.”
She felt his ribs heave a heavy sigh. “You disobeyed me, Sophi, and almost got killed yourself. What am I going to do with you?”

He bent slightly
, picked her up in his arms and carried her into the sentry house. She wondered at her easy acceptance of his hold, of his touch, of his command.

“Commander
DeStroia.” The outpost commander snapped to attention with a salute. “What in the seven hells is going on! Ah...sir.”

“Sergeant Trecchio, is there somewhere I can sit
with Lady DeLorion? Oh, and attend to our horses.” Sophi felt Eric sway though his arms still held her securely.

“
Right here, sir.” The sergeant dragged a sturdy chair out from behind the desk.

Eric’s
descent into the chair resembled more of a jolting fall than a sit. Her own pain mattered little to her, but she did notice his soft grunt of pain. As Sergeant Trecchio’s voice kept up a steady barrage of complaint, she unwrapped her arms from Eric’s neck. Raising her head to his ear, she murmured in a soft undertone, “Put me down. You are hurt. I can stand.”

His
answer reached only her ears. “Stay. I’ll deal with the discomfort. I like having you in my arms.” Amusement lurked in his tone. “I am certain of your whereabouts.” Trecchio’s voice maintained a constant drone in the background.

For t
he first time in her twenty-four years, she chose to relax in the arms of a man. Snuggling her face into his shoulder, she closed her eyes and listened to the bass rumble of Eric’s voice and the shrill tenor of Sergeant Trecchio.
I am so very, very tired.

“
…and with all due respect, sir, why the hell do we have
Fell
wolves prowling outside the gate? I thought we got rid of those vile creatures. And while we are at it, will you please explain the two lizard-men who rode in hard on their heels. What the fuck is going on here—sir—with all due respect to the lady present.” Trecchio’s tenor voice warbled into mezzo-soprano range.

Sophi pressed her face into Eric’s rough robe and smiled at
Eric’s long-suffering sigh.

The crusty sergeant barely took a breath in
his recount of their various calamities. “I don’t have the manpower to deal with this! We’re scraping by to man this gate as it is, sir. We can’t protect every temperamental, highborn female who endangers herself by…...ah…did you say Lady DeLorion? As in
Segundo
DeLorion’s sister?” Trecchio swallowed audibly then continued in a quieter, though still begrudging, voice. “Well, doesn’t matter who she is, we don’t have the manpower—sir.”

“I understand, Sergeant.
The
Tetriarch
is stretched beyond its limit to man these sigil gates, but for this woman, you will make an exception. I need four of your men to ride back to Sylvan Mintoth with us.”

“Siiirr!”
Trecchio’s voice soared again into the upper registers with shock and horror.

Sophi heard Eric swear under his breath. “Blasted
non-com upstart. You would have thought I’d asked to fuck his wife.” She knew Eric could feel her shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

“Sergeant Trecchio, w
e have more problems than just two Fell wolves and a couple of lizard-men. There are two battalions of Haarb infantry between us and
Sh’r Un Kree
but first and foremost I need to get Lady DeLorion safely into her brother’s custody. We had a brutal ride through the wastelands.” She felt his chin nod, indicating her. “So, please prepare quarters for Lady DeLorion.” There was no mistaking the growing anger in Eric’s voice. Even Trecchio was not stupid enough to cross Eric at this point.

“
Ah, yes, sir.” There was a slight hesitation in Trecchio’s voice. “She may have my quarters and you may take Corporal Saunders’s, sir. They are the best we have.”

“Many thanks. We won’t put you out long. Perhaps a day.
And I need to post a dispatch letter to
Segundo
DeLorion by your fastest courier.”

“
Yes, sir.” Trecchio’s voice trailed off, defeated. “Ahhh, if you would like, Lady DeLorion can have my quarters immediately. I believe the bed linens are clean.”

She
slowly unwound herself from Eric’s neck. Turning with care, she bestowed her best and most brilliant, “gracious-lady-of-the-manor” smile on the crusty old sergeant. “Lady DeLorion would like that very much, Sergeant. And if possible some water and a cloth with which to wash the worst of the grime away. Oh, yes, and a medical kit, please.”

The
testy old non-com got his first close look at her. He stood as if be-spelled. “My Lady, ma’am, ahh, ahh, yes. Right away. Ahh, yes. Right away.” His eyes proclaimed her a goddess and he, her slave. She appreciated, anew, Eric’s matter-of-fact acceptance of her appearance without comment.