Lion's Bride (17 page)

“You lie.” Selene steadied her voice. “It’s not true.”

“It’s true. You sail tomorrow evening. But Nicholas is far from pleased. The young rooster was a much cannier bargainer than he had hoped. They argued all day, but Nicholas could not squeeze more from him.” Maya sailed away toward another group of women to spread the word.

Selene sat down on the bench. She was shaking with anger as well as fear. She could not leave. He had no right to tear her from her only hope of freedom.

You can do nothing.

Perhaps Maya was right and she was too young to fight this world of grown-ups who cared about nothing but gold.

Thea, help me.

Thea was not here to help her, and she was not a child. Children were young, and she had lost her youth the night Mama had died.

She must help herself.

“She is gone?” Kadar repeated.

“But I’m sure we will find her,” Nicholas said quickly. “She is only a child. Where could she go? No doubt when she gets hungry she will return.”

Not even if she was starving, Kadar thought grimly. Christ, he should have gone to her last night after the deal had been struck. But what good would it have done when he would not have been able to talk to her without that muscular mamba hovering nearby? “When did she leave?”

“Some time during the night.” He frowned. “She must have climbed the garden wall. None of the guards saw her.”

Then she’d had hours to lose herself in the city.

“She has been sheltered under my roof and knows little of the wickedness she will find on the streets. Trust me, she will come running back in a few days.” Nicholas paused. “But you understand the bargain was struck. She is now your property. I’m not responsible.”

“You’re saying you won’t return my gold?”

Nicholas did not answer directly. “She’s not my responsibility.”

Yes, the bastard definitely needed his throat cut. Too bad Kadar had to keep him alive to find out if Selene returned.

“You’ll postpone your sailing and stay until you retrieve her?” Nicholas asked.

“I can do nothing else. You made sure she was too costly to leave behind.”

“Not that costly,” Nicholas said sourly. “Perhaps fate decided to punish you for cheating me of her services.”

Not for robbing him of a daughter but of a slave to give service. Kadar had had enough. He turned and strode toward the door. “I’ll send a messenger each day to see if she has returned.”

He paused outside the gates of the House of Nicholas. Where should he start? He knew nothing about Constantinople. Well, according to Nicholas, neither did Selene. The knowledge brought him a ripple of unease. Cities were all the same, infested with the wolves of the world, all ready to gobble up the innocent and unwary.

He could only hope he reached Selene before the wolves did.

DUNDRAGON

“I was right. Women have no head for chess,” Ware said as he looked down at the chessboard. “I find it very satisfying to beat you at the game.”

“Is that why you insist we play after we sup each evening?” Thea asked.

“No, I have another reason.”

“What reason?”

“Would you like to play another game?”

“What reason?”

He leaned back in his chair and smiled at her.

He wasn’t going to tell her. He often had those maddening moments of reticence, but they came less frequently now. “Well, I’ll play no more with you.” She pushed her chair back and stared into the fire. “And I could win, if it meant enough to me.”

“I know you could.” When she glanced up, he quickly amended, “At least, part of the time.”

She grinned at him. “Most of the time. Your attention wanders on occasion.”

“Does it? I must watch that fault. Such conduct could kill a soldier.”

“But not here.”

“No, not here.”

A comfortable silence fell in the firelit room. Who would have guessed she would ever be this comfortable with Ware of Dundragon? she mused. “Isn’t it time Kadar returned with Selene?”

“Soon. He may have had trouble persuading Nicholas to relinquish her.”

A flicker of anxiety disturbed the peace of the moment. “But he will be able to do it?”

“Kadar can be more manipulative and patient than Saladin himself. If he doesn’t wrest victory one way, he’ll approach it from another direction. He’ll bring her.”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

“She’ll still come to you. I’ll go after her myself.” He smiled grimly. “But my ways are not as civilized as Kadar’s. I may be forced to make orphans of you.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. “You jest.”

“We’ve already established I rarely jest.” He shrugged. “So we must hope Kadar succeeds.”

“It would be too dangerous for you to journey to Constantinople.”

“The danger exists every time I leave Dundragon. The threat is no greater in Constantinople than in Damascus. I made you a promise.”

“But I would not have you die for it,” she said fiercely. “I will find a way to get Selene myself as I first intended.”

His gaze fastened intently on her face. “Promises must be kept.”

“Don’t be foolish. I survived many years in Nicholas’s house. Selene can do the same. A few years out of her life is not worth your death. I will not hear more of this—Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I was wondering if you’d weep for me should I fall.”

“I do not weep readily.” His curious expression didn’t change, and it was making her uncomfortable. “And I see no reason why I should weep for a man who would risk himself so foolishly.”

“But you have a tender heart and you insist I’m your friend. Would you weep for me, Thea?”

She could not read his expression, but there was a note in his voice that made her hesitate to avoid the question. He was a man who lived constantly with death as his companion. Perhaps the knowledge that he would be mourned meant something to him. She met his gaze. “I would weep for you.”

He nodded slowly. “I believe you would.”

She could not look away. The room suddenly seemed to be without air. He was trying to tell her something. No, there were no words or thoughts, just…what? She didn’t know, but she could not bear this intensity. She tried to smile. “But I shall not weep, because Kadar is going to bring me Selene.”

“She is ready, my lord.” Haroun had appeared in the doorway.

Thea breathed a sigh of relief at the interruption. “What are you doing still awake, Haroun?” she asked him.

Haroun gave her an indignant glance. “I go about my lord’s duties.” He bowed to Ware. “You said to tell you when she was ready.”

She? Thea suddenly tensed as she realized what he must mean. Ware had not called Tasza to his bed of late, but that did not mean he was not coupling with other women in the household. Of course he was using them; he was a man with a lustful appetite. Why did she feel this sense of shock and outrage? She jumped to her feet. “I keep you. You clearly have things to do.”

He frowned. “Why are you—” He stopped as he understood. “You think I have a woman waiting in my bed?”

“It is none of my concern.” She moved toward the door. “But I’d think you would not use Haroun to arrange such acts.”

“My lady,” Haroun objected, shocked at what he deemed impertinence.

“It’s a squire’s duty to make his master comfortable.” Ware rose from his chair. “And you’re right, it’s none of your concern. Still, I believe it will amuse me to have you come with me.”

I want you to watch.

The scene that night in this hall came back to her. Ware sitting naked, Tasza crouched at his feet, her lips on his—

A bolt of heat seared through her. “I’ll not do it.”

“You will.” He strode past her. “Because it pleases me. One must always strive to please one’s friends. Isn’t that true?”

She hesitated, standing watching him. What was he about? He had gone not toward the staircase, as she had expected, but toward the front door.

He opened the door and stepped aside, gesturing for her to precede him.

Haroun took her hand and tugged. He whispered, “You must obey my lord.”

Haroun believed everyone on this earth must obey Ware. Still, she was curious. She let him lead her toward the door.

“I please my friend Haroun,” she told Ware as she went past him. “Not you.”

He chuckled. “I note the distinction.”

She started down the steps. “Are you going to tell me where we—” She stopped as she saw a wagon across the courtyard. Four fully armored soldiers were mounted behind it. “What is this?”

But Ware was already striding toward the wagon. Haroun immediately dropped her hand and ran after him. Thea slowly followed them.

As she drew closer, she saw a young woman lying in the bed of the wagon. She was vaguely familiar to Thea, one of the multitude of servants in this vast place.

“I don’t want to go, my lord,” the woman said, her gaze fixed pleadingly on Ware. “Let me stay.”

Ware shook his head. “You will do well in Damascus. All your needs will be met. The babe must be kept safe.” He motioned to the driver of the wagon. “Go with God.”

Babe.

Thea watched numbly as the wagon slowly rolled toward the gates with the escort following. “She’s with child?”

“Four months.” Ware was looking after the wagon with an expression she had never seen on his face—a strange mixture of desperation and bitterness. “She had to leave now. Later the journey would have been too hard on her.”

Her numbness was gone, leaving raw anger in its wake, an emotion as wild and intense as it was unexplainable. “I’d think you would want to be present when your child was born.”

“I would.” He turned to look at her. “But the babe is not mine. Fatima is the wife of one of my soldiers.”

Another rush of emotion cascaded through her, and she glanced quickly away. “I see.”

“No, you don’t,” he said roughly. “I wouldn’t send a woman bearing my child away without my escort. I would be by her side, guarding her and the child from all harm.”

She didn’t look at him. “She didn’t want to go.”

“She bears Jusef’s child, and a child is a man’s only hope of immortality. She must be kept safe. I won’t have him cheated.”

There was such an intensity of passion in his tone that she was startled. “But will she be safe?”

“I’ve deliberately sent only an escort of four. Vaden will know that I’d be more careful if they were guarding something of mine.”

“He won’t harm her?”

He frowned. “Of course he won’t hurt her. He’s no monster.”

“Forgive me,” she said with sarcasm. “When you said he wished to murder me, I assumed he was—”

“That’s a different matter.” He turned and strode toward the castle.

She did not follow him but watched the wagon roll through the gates. Ware was probably returning to the Great Hall. She would go directly to her chamber and avoid any further encounter with him tonight. She had passed through too many emotional peaks and valleys this night. In the space of that few minutes beside the wagon, Ware had changed from the man to whom she had become accustomed to the moody despot she had first met.

But he was not moody, he was a man in pain. She knew now how he covered every emotion with a blanket of thorns. She was trying to ignore it because she did not want to deal with it. Her response had been too strong, too frightening, and she wanted only to hide away.

He was in the Great Hall, as she knew he would be, sitting staring into the fire.

She strode past the arched doorway and started up the staircase.

By all the saints, she couldn’t do it.

She sighed and started down the steps again.

“Your face is ugly when you scowl,” she said as she entered the room. “It displeases me exceedingly.”

“Then go somewhere you don’t have to look at it.”

She sat down on a stool beside the hearth. “Kadar wouldn’t like it.”

“Kadar.” He turned his head to look at her. “Is that why you’re here?”

“Why else would I be—” She met his gaze and shook her head. “It troubles me when you’re like this.”

“Does it?” He lifted his goblet to his lips. “Would you like to soothe me?”

“I’d like to help you.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Not in the way I want you to help.” He drained the goblet. “But if you don’t go away, I may ask it anyway.”

She smiled with effort. “That’s no great threat. I’ve refused you before.”

“No, you haven’t. I haven’t fallen that deep into the pit as yet.” He gazed at her for a long moment and then shifted his glance away. “Leave me.”

She sat unmoving.

His hand tightened with white-knuckled pressure on the goblet. “Leave me,” he said through his teeth. “Or, by God, I’ll call Abdul and have him carry you from this room.”

He meant it. She had never seen him like this. She slowly rose from the stool. “No one need force me. I take no pleasure in your company when you’re like this.” She started across the chamber. “Good night.”

“Wait!”

She glanced over her shoulder to see expression after expression flickering over Ware’s face. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he muttered. “Nothing.” He lifted his goblet to her and smiled mockingly. “A moment of weakness. Shall we wager whether I succumb the next time?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’m weary of trying to understand you.”

“No more than I am. I don’t understand myself at all of late.” He looked back into the fire. “But I wouldn’t wager on either my generosity or strength of will. It would be very unwise.”

Thea woke with a start in the darkness.

“Hush.” Ware was a massive shadow sitting on the bed beside her. “I’m not going to harm you.”

Her heart was beating so hard, she could scarcely speak. “You already have,” she said tartly. “Frightening me unto death is harm enough. Light the candle.”

“No, there’s moonlight. I can see you well enough.”

“Well, I can’t see you.” But she could sense him and the tension that seemed to reach out and enfold her. She was suddenly acutely conscious of scents and textures drifting to her in the darkness. The scent of leather, which always surrounded Ware, the fragrance of lemon, cedar, and mulberry drifting from the trees below on the green, the soft cotton coverlet against her naked body. She swallowed. “Light the candle.”