Hidden (Book 1) (22 page)

The next morning Jarrett didn’t act any different.
Neither did Tressa. She must have stayed up for another hour or two thinking
about what he’d said. An ally was a good thing. But could she trust the man?

He guarded the boy, whose identity
Tressa still hadn’t discovered, and he seemed close with a few of the other men.

What bothered her more was the
assumption he’d made about her. Tressa thought back to every move she’d made
since Leo sacrificed himself. What gave her away? It was also possible he was
fishing for a traitor.

Instead of querying Jarrett, Tressa
chose to go on as if nothing happened. If he told the truth, it would be
apparent in time. He’d have to prove himself with actions.
Though
what those would be, Tressa didn’t know.
Not until that afternoon.

Henry and Jarrett stood in the center
of the ring. The afternoon air was cool and crisp, lit by a bright sun. A faint
scent of ripe apples hung in the air, though Tressa hadn’t seen one yet. They
were given meat at every meal.
Presumably to bulk them up.

Henry jumped from side to side, his
sword flailing in the air. Not one of his blows came close to landing on
Jarrett. As far as Tressa could tell, he wasn’t even trying to dodge the tip of
Henry’s sword.

“Son of the gods,” one man grumbled
from the side of the ring. “How long do we have to put up with this child? If
the queen is ever attacked, he’ll do nothing to help her. He’ll only get
himself killed.”

Jarrett eyed the man, his gaze
cutting sharper than the finely honed steel of his sword. His scrutiny fell
upon Tressa. She shifted from one foot to the other, curious. “He’s protected,”
Jarrett said.

The golden-haired
man, Aland, snorted.
“Only by you. We did what was asked of us. Got him into the guard.
Nothing else was required.” Aland circled Jarrett and Henry, his sword raised.
“Why are you still protecting him?”

Jarrett turned his back on Henry. He
motioned for the boy to run by Tressa. She shook her head. She had no reason to
protect the kid. Not when her
arse
would be on the
line with the other men. Jarrett rolled his eyes at her reluctance. Henry
fidgeted next to Tressa. She pretended she didn’t notice him.

“The guard are not supposed to fight
each other,” a short, stocky man called out. Tressa struggled to remember his
name. Warrick. No, Barden. Yes, Barden. He was twin brother to the largest man
Tressa had ever seen,
Marden
. They shared the same
womb, but the two couldn’t be more different. He stalked off toward the outer
ring where his brother stood, calmly watching over all of them like a mountain.

Jarrett held out an arm toward Aland.
“Listen to Barden. I protect the boy because he can’t protect himself.”

“But you’re not teaching him
anything. You let him prance around like a pony on parade. It’s embarrassing to
the rest of us. The next time we’re called to attend the queen at a public
event,
he’ll make a joke of us all. Let me work with him.”
Aland feigned an attack at Jarrett, and then switched direction. His feet
pounded in the dirt as he ran toward Tressa and Henry, his sword held at his
hip.

Tressa pushed the boy backward with
her hand and stepped between them, her steel in the air, ready to block Aland’s
attack. His sword fell hard on hers. She slipped to her knees, still trying to
push him off. Aland’s upper body strength was far more than hers. She fell to
the ground and he pressed on.

“Your quarrel isn’t with Max,”
Jarrett yelled, referring to the male name Tressa had taken. “If you want
blood, then fight for it.” He swung his sword, level with Aland’s neck. A gush
of blood fell on Tressa, drenching her face in the copper scent. A sticky trail
dripped down her cheek toward her ear.

Aland fell backward. Tressa scrambled
to her feet. Had Jarrett killed the man for his bravado? And to what end?

Before she could determine his fate,
Henry pushed down on her back. She fell again.

“Are you okay, Max?” he whispered in
her ear.

“No.” She swatted him back again.
This time to protect him from her anger.
“Leave me alone and
I’ll be just fine.”

She looked up at Aland. His chest was
moving up and down. Alive.

“Why did you do that,” she hissed at
Jarrett.

“He cannot touch Henry.” Jarrett
calmly explained. “Tomorrow when he wakes up from the nasty headache I gave
him, he’ll think twice about ever coming near Henry again.”

“Why is he so important?” Tressa eyed
the boy. He was rubbing his elbow as if he’d been hurt as badly as Aland. The
sad thing was that Aland was right. The boy would embarrass all of them. She
wouldn’t blame Stacia if she disbanded the guard and held another tournament.
One whose outcome wasn’t partially predetermined because men were
paid off to protect another.

Though Tressa couldn’t hold it
against him too much. The same had been done for her. At least she tried to
appear as if she knew what she was doing.

Jarrett leaned over, offering Tressa
a hand. She hesitated to take it. Her palms were calloused just as much as any
other hardworking person, but her fingers were slight and delicate like a
woman’s. She wasn’t even sure they could pass for a young boy’s digits. Though
she kept them hidden in heavy gloves, the grasp of one person helping another
to their feet could give her away.

She placed both hands firmly on the
grass and pushed to standing.

Jarrett offered the same to Henry.
He, of course, eagerly took Jarrett’s hand, as if there was no other way he
could have gotten up.

“Henry is my secret weapon. I paid
these men to protect him, though they don’t know that. An emissary contacted
them for me.” Jarrett spoke while he cleaned his blade. The other men were
staying far away, presumably waiting for his temper to calm. “I need him here
and I need him alive.”

Tressa took another look at Henry. She
couldn’t see how he could be dangerous, much less a secret weapon against
Stacia. She’d eat him alive.

“Stacia has her braid. You’ve seen it
kill, I’m sure.”
Jarret
said. “She just took another
victim a few months ago. An interloper from another land.”

Yes, Tressa had seen. It was the
reason she was standing in front of Jarrett.

“But,” Jarrett continued, “Henry is
not so different from Stacia.”

Jarrett sauntered away,
dragging Henry behind him. His words felt like more mystery than facts. He'd
told her nothing useful. Certainly nothing that would engender her trust.

After
the training session, she took off for the pond alone. The other men were
napping. They claimed it was to re-energize their muscles and preserve their
stamina. Tressa felt they were only being lazy. She'd worked just as hard, if
not harder than them, and had no interest in closing her eyes.

Tressa
took one last look around the forest before slipping off her clothes and diving
into the pond. She emerged, only her head above the water, and enjoyed the
warmth of the sun on her face. The cold droplets energized her.

She
lifted one arm out of the water and flexed her bicep. A smooth muscle popped up
from her arm. She smiled. All of her hard work with Leo paid off. She was
exactly where she needed to be and one step closer to her ultimate goal. It was
physical proof of everything she was working toward.

"Go
on, give it a little kiss. You know you want to."

Tressa
gasped and slipped under the water. She opened her eyes and frantically
searched for shore. It wasn't far. The ground sloped upward quickly.
Unfortunately two feet stood in the shallows, the toes wiggling, almost
taunting her.

Slowly
she resurfaced, but only to her chin.

"Jarrett."

"Max."

"I
already explained it's against my religion to be seen without my clothes. If
you'd leave me to my bathing, I'd appreciate it."

"I
only wanted to talk to you more." He sat down on a rock, his feet still in
the cool water. "I promise I won't look."

"I
don't want to talk to you." Tressa forced herself to consume steady, even
breaths
. Her confidence quickly waned. One wrong move and
he'd know her truth. "You only speak of treason to our queen, the woman
we've sworn to protect."

Jarrett
rolled his eyes. "Stop the act. I knew the identity of every man entering
the tournament. I knew his reason for entering whether it was blind faith to
the queen, the need to secure his family's future, or even to get away from an
arranged marriage." He scratched his chin at Tressa's look of surprise.
"Yes, men hate those too."

He
pointed at Tressa. "But you are the only one whose intent I didn't know.
It wasn't clear to me until the last man died. Leo would not give his life for
just anyone."

Leo. He
knew Leo. Even in the disguise. Even when Tressa didn't see until near the end
who
the man with the braided beard was.

"This
was how I knew you could be trusted."

"How
did you know Leo?" She had to know. Jarrett had crossed a line, giving her
the permission to speak true.

"Leo
was my father."

Tressa
let the information sink in. He'd never mentioned a son.

Jarrett
waved a hand in the air. "My mother was the only woman he was ever intimate
with. It was that night he knew his pleasure lay elsewhere. Fortunately it was
after he'd deposited his contribution to me into her."

He
stood up and took off his shirt. Jarrett's dark skin glinted in the sunlight.
Tressa averted her eyes.

"Is
it against your religion to see others naked as well?"

Tressa
heard the swish of his breeches fall to the ground. "It is a private
matter." She hoped her voice didn't waver. When the water rippled and
sloshed, she looked back at him. Jarrett was submerged to his waist.

He
tilted his head to the side. "Were you my father's lover?"

"No."
Tressa couldn't help but laugh. "He was like a father to me."

Jarrett's
eyes narrowed.

"I'm
sorry. I apologize. That was insensitive."

"No."
Jarrett waded closer. "Truth is always the right answer, whether it's
appropriate or not. I had a stepfather and he was a good man. He cared for my
mother and for me, and the children they had together. I was never treated like
another man's son."

Tressa
stopped herself from telling Jarrett she grew up without a father. It wasn't
his to know. She couldn't allow herself to get closer to him until she knew he
could be trusted. Just because he claimed to be Leo's son, it didn't make him
trustworthy.

"I'm
telling you this because I feel we can trust each other." He took another
step toward Tressa.

She
stepped back.

"I
need an ally. I think you do too." Jarrett held out his hand, but she
refused to shake it.

The
clear blue water lapped against the top of Tressa's shoulders. She bit back a
response. She didn't want to trust him. But
he was right
,
she needed an ally too
.

"What
makes Henry so special?"

Jarrett
sighed. "It's better if you don't know."

"Then
why should I trust you?"

"You
can honestly deny the knowledge.”

"I
could lie."

"There
are ways others will know if you speak the truth or not. Skilled in torture,
they take pleasure in other’s pain."

Tressa
folded her arms across her chest. Jarrett had been inching ever closer and she
wasn't sure how much he could see through the water.

"Lies
keep us from fully reaching our potential. If you're not encumbered by Henry's
truth, then you can focus on your own lies."

"I
have no lies."

"Just
unspoken truths." Jarrett's eyes fell to her shoulders. "I've studied
fighting since I was a young boy. Combat revolves around what you cannot see.
If you only trust what your opponent shows, the battle is lost before it is
begun."

Jarrett's
hand floated on the water, only inches from touching her. Tressa didn't flinch.
Weakness wouldn't give her away today.

"And
with you, there is a secret. Something you don't want anyone to know. Something
my father died to protect. What is it?"

"I
have no secrets. I came here to fight for a place in the Black Guard. I won it.
There is nothing else to know."

A smile
spread across Jarrett's face. He was amused. Tressa was not.

He shrugged,
turned, and began moving back toward shore. "Just don't let the other men
catch you out here alone."

The
water lapped against his back.
Then the top of his hips.
And touched the
arse
Tressa had spied through the
bush yesterday.
Still clean.
And firm.

She
blinked, reminding herself she was a man.
Or at least
pretending to be one.

Jarrett
pushed the excess water off of his legs with his palms. Tressa's heart pounded.
He stood there completely naked and unashamed. Of course he did, though. He
thought Tressa was a man too, and he probably assumed she wasn't looking at
him.
Religion and all that.

Jarrett
pulled his breeches and shirt on, covering the stolen view. He sauntered over
to Tressa's pile of clothes. He picked up the fabric she'd been using to bind
her breasts.

"No,
you don't have any secrets worth keeping, do you?" Jarrett looked at her,
letting the fabric fall between his fingers to the ground.

Tressa
said nothing. She made fists and kept them steady at her thighs. If she had to
defend herself nude and soaking wet, she would be prepared.

"I
had hoped you'd work with me on your own accord. I wanted to create a bond between
us." Jarrett shook his head. "I need another fighter on my side to
protect Henry. One who won't hesitate to step into the shadow of
darkness.
Unfortunately you didn't listen to reason, so now
I'll have to blackmail you."

Jarrett
turned back to Tressa.

"I
hope you don't mind, sweetheart. I won't tell the other men they have a woman
in their midst as long as you do exactly as I say."

Instead
of cowering before Jarrett's threats, she decided to make some of her own. Warm
air brushed against the water dripping from her skin as she made her way back
to shore.

Tressa
knew weakness would only get her killed. Leo taught her that. So she stood in front of Jarrett,
completely naked. "You tell anyone I'm a woman and I'll slit Henry's
throat while he sleeps."

Tressa
expected Jarrett to laugh. Instead his face remained serious. "I will
accept those terms, but they go both ways. Now what is your real name?"

"Max
is all you will ever know. Now go while I get dressed."

"I'll
stay a bit up the path and make sure no one else comes upon you as I did."

"I
highly doubt anyone else will wake up early from their precious nap to take a
bath." Tressa mumbled as she pulled on her breeches and then began to wrap
the binding around her chest. It was hard enough to do alone, much less while
Jarrett looked on unashamed. "You followed me here."

"And
it's a good thing I did. We share a common goal."

Tressa
grunted. She pulled the binding tight and reached awkwardly to her back to tuck
in the excess.

"You
need help with that?"

Tressa
glared at Jarrett.

"Just
trying to help." There was that smile. She wanted to wipe it from his
face.

"I
can manage just fine on my own, thank you. I thought you were going to wait a
bit up the path while I dressed." She yanked her shirt over her head and
punched her fists into the sleeves.

Jarrett
looked at the ground, then back at Tressa. "I suppose I got
distracted."

She
expected a wink, but it didn't come. The man was infuriating and impossible to
understand.

"Don't
count on it happening again." Tressa scooped up her pack and slung it over
her shoulder.

"You
might want to find another place to be this evening," Jarrett said as he
followed Tressa up the path.

"Why?"

"The
men were talking about bringing in a few whores."

Tressa
sighed. She stopped and turned around. "Thank you."

"I'll
be taking Henry to a local pub, if you'd like to join us."

"Most
men would think Henry is just the right age for such a thing."

"Most
men don't know Henry the way I do. It's a bad idea."

She bit
her lip and looked into Jarrett's eyes. "Do you want me to take Henry to
the pub?" Tressa felt awkward even asking. "I mean, so you can stay
back with the other men and their, uh, entertainment?"

Jarrett
grabbed Tressa's chin, forcing her to look up at him. "I don't take
pleasure in a woman who doesn't take pleasure in me."

Tressa
nodded and continued up the path. There was no more to say. Instead, she
focused on how to kill Stacia and get back to the life she'd always wanted.