Lion's Bride (5 page)

The scrape of a chair on stone floor. He was still in there.

Disappointment flooded her as she realized she had no excuse to avoid the confrontation. It was probably for the best; she shouldn’t wait. It had already taken her too long to brace herself for this meeting.

She drew a deep breath and strode across the foyer into the hall. She stopped short, her eyes widening in shock.

Ware was sprawled indolently in a high-backed chair before the huge fireplace, a goblet in his hand.

He was naked.

He lifted his goblet to her. “Good evening, Thea of Dimas.” His words were a little slurred. “How kind of you to join us.”

Naked and drunk.

“Send her away.”

Thea’s gaze flew to the hearth. His chair half blocked her view of the sheepskin pallet spread before the fire, but she could glimpse a shapely bare leg.

“Now, Tasza, you must not be unwelcoming. It’s partially due to her that you’re here tonight.” He waved a hand. “Come and have a goblet of wine. Tasza will play for you. She’s very accomplished on the lyre.” He smiled down at the woman. “But it’s not her primary skill.”

“I don’t want to play for her. Send her away.”

He frowned. “You’re being rude. It does not please me.”

“I don’t wish to hear her,” Thea said quickly. She should not have come. It was clear what was transpiring in this room. The air was heavy with the scent of incense, wine, and musk. Yet she could not leave without accomplishing her purpose. “I came to speak to you.”

“I’m not sure I can speak. I seem to be having a slight difficulty. Are you sure you’d not prefer another form of communication?”

“No!” Tasza jumped to her feet. She, too, was without clothes and very beautiful. She was in her middle twenties, with smooth golden skin, and long dark hair half veiling large, voluptuous breasts. “Send her away, my lord.”

“You’re beginning to annoy me, Tasza.” Ware waved a slightly unsteady hand. “If you cannot be courteous, then you’ll be absent. Go to your quarters.”

“But, my lord—” She stopped, glowered at Thea, and marched from the room.

“You should not have sent her away.” Thea moistened her lips. “I didn’t come here to pleasure you.”

“No? Pity.” He lifted the goblet to his lips. “No matter. I’m not sure I could perform at the moment anyway. I’ve already indulged myself a number of times tonight, and I’m a little drunk.”

“More than a little.”

“Sometimes it eases me.” He drank deep. “Sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes I require”—his gaze went to the door through which Tasza had disappeared—“other means.”

She felt a sudden flare of anger. “A woman should not be used for such a purpose. It’s cruel and—”

“Did she seem to be suffering?”

“Because she knows no better than to lie down and spread her legs for you is no reason for you to rut with her.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “You have a tongue like an asp. It’s good that I’m drunk; it mellows the sting.”

It mellows the sting.

Her last qualm about being here vanished at his words. If wine mellowed and removed that hard edge, perhaps this would be the best possible time to talk with him. It might be possible for her to wrest a promise from him he would not give if sober. “Are you too drunk to listen and understand?”

His gaze went to the window overlooking the mountains. “I never let myself get that drunk.”

“Then I’ll stay and talk to you.” She strode over to a cushioned stool to one side of the hearth and seated herself.

“How kind of you.”

She was now at eye level with his lower body, and she tried to keep herself from staring at him. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable if you garbed yourself?”

“No.” He sipped his wine. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping? Kadar will be upset if you lose strength.”

“I couldn’t sleep until I saw you.”

“Yet you say you don’t wish to couple with me.”

She repressed the flare of annoyance. “Women are not only for coupling.”

He leaned back and gazed at her from beneath half-closed lids. “Not all women. But you’re very suited for the sport.” Frowning, he gazed at the thick single braid that lay on her left shoulder. “I don’t like to see your hair bound. I want to see it flowing around you as it was this afternoon.”

She flushed as she remembered that scene upstairs. “I always wear it this way.”

“Take it down.”

“It gets in my way.”

“If you want me to listen, take it down.”

She clenched her teeth in exasperation. Perhaps she should leave him after all. Yet the demand was more sulky than arbitrary. Like that of a little boy who was being denied his way. It would do no harm to let him have his will in this. She untied the cord, loosened her braid, and shook her head to let her hair flow free.

He nodded approvingly. “Very good.” His gaze went to her white cotton gown, and she stiffened in alarm.

But he only commented. “Ugly. It swallows you.”

She was sure that had been Jasmine’s intention, but since it had suited her, she had made no objection. “It’s clean and neat.”

“You looked better without—”

“I’ve come to ask a favor,” she said quickly to veer him away from that direction.

“I don’t grant favors. Ask Kadar.”

“I have to ask you. I have no choice. It must be done at once, and I—”

“I’m out of wine.” He stood up and moved toward a pitcher on the table across the room. “Go on, I’m listening. Did I tell you that you have a very pleasant voice? Like honey…”

She could not take her eyes from him. Strange that such a giant of a man would move with the grace of a lion. If he was a beast, he was a truly magnificent one. His unbound mane tumbled about massive shoulders that bore the scars of battle. His thighs and calves were thick and powerful, stomach and buttocks lean and corded with muscle. A triangle of dark hair thatched his chest, and another circled his manhood.

He glanced up as he poured his wine. “Well, did I?”

It took her a moment to remember what he had asked her. Something about her voice. “No, you compared me to an asp.”

“Well, how do I know if it would be bitter to be stung by an asp? Perhaps it would be honey sweet until the death throes.” He set the pitcher down and strolled back to her. “What do you think?”

“I think I wouldn’t like to taste the sting to see.”

He sat back down. “Neither would I. Sometimes when I’m weary unto death, I think it would be good to go to a final rest.” He suddenly smiled recklessly. “But since I doubt if there is rest in hell, I’ll not chance it until I’m forced.”

She stared at him, shocked. “Surely you believe that you’ll be taken to heaven. You’re a soldier, and the Pope has promised all Crusaders they will receive forgiveness and divine reward.”

“And in return they slaughter the infidel and send plunder to Rome.” He stared down into the wine in his goblet. “Do you know, I cannot even remember all the men I’ve killed in my lifetime. Once when I was drunk, I tried to recall and count them, but there were too many. Somehow I don’t think God will be as forgiving as the Pope.” He shifted his shoulders as if throwing off a burden and drained his glass. “So I must enjoy myself while I’m still on this earth.”

Why did she feel sorry for him? He was a brute and a barbarian who cared nothing for anyone’s needs but his own. The weariness and sadness she saw was probably only induced by the wine. Yet she found herself saying gently, “I’m sure you’re wrong. God does forgive.”

He raised his eyes. “Will he forgive Hassan for killing your father?”

She stiffened and did not answer.

“Kadar thinks you lied. Did you lie, Thea of Dimas?”

She was silent a moment and then said, “Yes.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Everyone lies. Conrad will kiss my cheek tomorrow and stab me to the heart the next day.”

“I don’t lie.” She amended, “Unless I have no choice. And what of Kadar? Does he lie?”

“No. Kadar doesn’t lie.” He reached up and rubbed his temple. “My head is starting to ache. Usually it doesn’t happen until the next day. If you’re going to ask me something, you’d better do it now. I grow bad-tempered when I’m hurting.”

He was bad-tempered when he wasn’t hurting. “Why should I ask? You said you wouldn’t grant it.”

“Damnation.” He glared at her. “Ask it!”

She blurted out, “My worms need leaves.”

He stared at her in astonishment and then started to laugh. “Leaves?”

“It’s not funny. I had another pouch full of leaves, but I had to leave it with the caravan. I thought I might have enough in the basket, but there are only a few left and—Stop laughing.”

“I cannot.” He shook his head, his lips still twitching. “Set the poor creatures free and let them find their own leaves.”

“I cannot set them free. I
need
them.” She leaned forward, her hands clenched tightly together. “They’re silkworms. When I settle in Damascus, I’ll use them to make silk for my looms. Perhaps I’ll even have enough to trade.”

“Silk…Is that what you did in Constantinople?”

She nodded. “Wonderful silk. I was an embroiderer for the finest silk house in the city, and I also helped care for the silk beds.” She paused. “It’s a favor I ask, but I’m willing to pay. As soon as I have my own house, I’ll make you anything you like. I have great skill, and my work was much sought after.”

“What do you want?”

“Tomorrow I need to go into the foothills and search out a mulberry tree.”

“Mulberry? No other tree would do?”

“Not as well. It’s what they’re accustomed to eating.” At least if he was listening, there was a chance of persuading him. “But I understand they do grow in this land. I spoke to a trader, and he said they’ve spread from China to here. In Constantinople we have the black mulberry, but here they have white, which is even better.”

“The tree is white?”

“No, the fruit is white when the tree flowers.”

“And what if it isn’t flowering?” he said dryly.

“It has tooth-shaped leaves. I’ll recognize it.” She held her breath. “Will you take me?”

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “No.”

“You must take me,” she said desperately. “I have to have those leaves. You’ll be rid of me as soon as I have enough to assure the worms will live until I reach Damascus.”

“Go to bed.”

“Selene risked a great deal to bring that basket to me—I won’t let them be destroyed,” she said unsteadily. “You needn’t accompany me. Lend me a horse and I’ll go by myself.”

“No.” He opened his eyes. “Go to your chamber.”

“Not until you promise me I’ll have the leaves.”

He started to shake his head and then flinched. “I’ll promise anything if you’ll stop hammering at me.”

“Tomorrow?” she asked eagerly.

“Tomorrow. Get out.”

She jumped to her feet and started toward the arched doorway. She had done all she could, but it might all be for naught. He might be too drunk to remember his promise tomorrow, or he could regard a vow made to a woman as not binding.

“And send Tasza back to me.”

She stopped in the doorway. “I don’t know where she is. You sent her to her quarters.”

“I doubt if she went. Tasza can be very determined.”

“You’ve had too much wine. You don’t need her. Let the poor woman stay in her own bed.”

“I am here.” The woman flew past Thea and ran toward Ware. “I knew you would not stay angry with me.” She knelt before him and pressed her lips to his inner thigh. “Forgive me. I will make you forget my impudence.”

She was fondling him with tongue as well as hands, Thea realized with shock.

And he was responding. Boldly.

His hands clenched tightly on the arms of the chair as he met her gaze over the woman’s head. His face was flushed, his lips full and sensual. “Stay,” he said thickly. “Watch. I want you here.”

The heat mounted to her cheeks. Incense and musk and the smell of burning logs drifted to her. The entire room was charged, throbbing with erotic sights, sounds, and scents. Her chest was so tight, she could scarcely breathe.

He held her gaze. “Stay,” he repeated softly.

She turned and ran from the hall and up the stairs. Her heart was beating painfully hard and her entire body was tingling. Perhaps he was right—perhaps he did belong to Lucifer. Dear heaven, she had never felt like this before. She had actually wanted to stay in that room that breathed of sin and sensuality.

But not to watch.

“Where is that damned basket?”

Thea’s eyes flew open to see Ware standing over her bed.

“What?” She clutched the cover to her breast and scrambled to a sitting position. Dawn had not yet broken, and the chamber was in half darkness. “What are you doing here?”

“The basket.”

“It’s mine,” she said fiercely. “You can’t have it.”

“I don’t want the goddamn basket. I want a leaf. I have to have a leaf or I can’t find the tree.”

She gazed up at him in astonishment. “You’re going to look for my tree?”

“I said it, didn’t I?” he growled.

“Now?”

“I’ve no patience for your questions. My head is pounding, my stomach is queasy, and this armor feels as heavy as the drawbridge of this castle. Tell me where that cursed basket is.”

“By the window.” She hurriedly sat up, wrapped the cover around her, and flew across the room. “But you don’t have to have a leaf. I’ll go with you.”

“Open the basket.”

She untied the thong and opened the lid. “There’s not much left of the leaves.”

He gazed with repulsion at the squirming mass of worms. “God in heaven, they look the way my stomach feels.” He leaned against the windowsill. “You get the leaf.”

She carefully reached into the basket and retrieved a half leaf. “There’s no bigger piece.” She spied a small worm on it and gently brushed him back into the basket. “But you won’t need this. I’ll help you find a tree.”

He gingerly took the leaf and turned on his heel. “You’ll stay here.” The door slammed behind him.

She dropped the blanket and snatched up her gown. She slipped it over her head, then grabbed her sandals. She didn’t bother to put them on but carried them as she ran from the chamber. Beneath her bare feet the stone was cool down the staircase and out into the courtyard.