Lion's Bride (7 page)

He glanced back at the denuded branches on the ground beneath the tree and frowned in puzzlement.

What the devil had Ware been about?

“He’s here!” Kadar pushed back his chair, the game forgotten. “I hear the drawbridge.” He hurried out of the hall.

Thea stood up and followed him. She found she was experiencing the same relief Kadar was exhibiting. She had been conscious of Kadar’s lack of attention for the past two hours, and his worry had been contagious.

Ware was riding through the gates as she came down the steps to the courtyard to stand beside Kadar. The setting sun was behind him, and he was only a massive dark silhouette against a blazing sky as he walked his horse toward them.

Kadar shaded his eyes with his hand as he looked up at Ware. “He didn’t follow?”

“He followed. He held his hand.” He loosened the basket and dropped it to the courtyard. “Your leaves.”

“Why?” Kadar asked.

“How do I know?” He dismounted and turned to Thea. “Are they the right ones?”

She knelt on the stones and opened the lid. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the tooth-shaped leaves. “Yes.”

“Enough?”

She nodded. “They’ll last me at least a month. By that time I should be settled in Damascus and able to find more.”

“Long before that time.” He turned and moved toward the steps. “I want her out of here, Kadar. I want you both out of here.”

“You’re always so inhospitable.” Kadar followed him toward the steps. “But I forgive you this time. You’re clearly exhausted from picking all those heavy mulberry leaves.”

Ware took off his helmet and faced Kadar. “I shouldn’t have let you stay this long. It’s time for you to go.”

He looked tired, Thea thought. He still held himself with rigid straightness, but deep lines engraved either side of his mouth and fanned out from his eyes, which held a strange hollowness. It was as if the weariness had passed from his body into his soul.

She said impulsively, “You need a bath and a night’s rest.” She jumped to her feet, snatched up her basket, and hurried toward him. “I’ll go tell Jasmine to have water heated.” She turned to Kadar. “Take him to his chamber and get him out of that armor.”

“Kadar doesn’t need to take me anywhere.”

“Nonsense. You look as if you’re going to fall down at any minute.” She glanced at his neck and shook her head. “And your muscles are knotted and twisted. I can help with easing that pain.”

“I have no pain.”

She snorted derisively. “Help him with his armor, Kadar. I have no patience with lies.” She moved past him into the castle and encountered Jasmine coming down the steps. “Hot water for Lord Ware.”

Jasmine gave her a cool glance. “I gave the command when I saw him ride into the courtyard. You don’t have to tell me my duty. I know how to care for my lord. I’ll send for Tasza to attend him.”

“I will attend him.”

“I will send for Tasza,” she repeated.

“No.” She tried to hold on to her temper. “He’s done me a service this day and I’ll be the one to ease him.” As she met Jasmine’s stony expression, her irritation flared. “I’ve no desire to take Tasza’s place in your master’s bed. I merely wish to make him comfortable.”

Jasmine studied her for a moment, and then the faintest smile touched her lips. “Are you a virgin that you don’t know that the best way to make a man comfortable is to rid him of lust?” Then her eyes widened as she read Thea’s expression. “Truly? Your manner was so bold, I thought—” She frowned. “Why did you not tell me? I have better things to do than worry about a threat that doesn’t exist. Tasza need not be concerned about a woman who has no skills.”

Thea stared at her in indignation. “I should not have to tell every passerby on the streets that I’ve never had a man.”

“You should have told
this
passerby…if you wished a comfortable stay here.” Jasmine proceeded down the stairs. “You may tend my lord. Perhaps you should even couple with him. Once your veil is broken, he will lose interest and Tasza’s skills will shine in contrast.”

“How many times must I tell you? I don’t wish to couple with him.”

“My lord’s chamber is two doors from your own. I will have Omar bring the water. You will find unguents and salves in the chest in the corridor.”

Thea stared after her in helpless exasperation. She felt as if she had tried to stop the flow of a river by standing in its path. Jasmine’s sudden reversal in attitude was just as bewildering as everything else at Dundragon.

Well, at least Jasmine would not hinder her today. Heaven knew if she would change her mind again tomorrow. Thea turned and ran up the steps to find the unguents.

Ware was already in the tub when Thea came into his chamber. His eyes were closed and his head was resting on the high back of the tub.

Kadar, sitting cross-legged on the hearth across the room, smiled at her. “Caution. His temper is not good. If you don’t please him, he’ll probably drown you.”

“I’ve never seen him when his temper was good.” She came brusquely forward, set the salves and unguents on the floor, and moved a stool beside the tub. “So I’ve nothing with which to compare.” She tossed a handful of sweet-smelling leaves into the water. “But at least he will have a pleasant scent.”

“Go away,” Ware said, without opening his eyes. “I have servants aplenty to bathe me.”

“You may bathe yourself. That’s not why I’m here.” She sat down on the stool and poured oil into her palms. “This will hurt at first.”

Kadar instantly rose to his feet. “I think I’ll go order supper brought up. I detest the sound of screams.”

“Coward,” Ware said.

“Sage,” Kadar corrected as he left the room.

Thea’s fingers dug into the bunched muscles of Ware’s neck.

“Ouch!” He tried to turn his head to glare at her.

“Stay still.” Her fingers dug deeper. “The muscles will ease presently.”

“Presently?” He flinched. “You’re trying to torture me.”

“If I were trying to torture you, I’d leave you with these knots. Now be silent and let me work.”

“I’ll have bruises tomorrow.”

“They won’t last. I had bruises when I woke yesterday, and today they’re fading.”

“Bruises? Where?”

“My shoulders. You were not gentle the night you found me.”

He scowled. “I think you mean to make me feel guilt. I saw no bruises.”

Heat rushed through her as she remembered that insolent glance. “You weren’t looking at my shoulders.”

He was silent a long time. “No, I wasn’t. I was looking at your—Christ! Do you have a dagger back there? That felt like a knife thrust.”

“Good. The pain must come before the easing.”

“Are you sure you’re not just exacting vengeance?”

“I would not do that.” But she had to admit it gave her a certain amount of pleasure to have him helpless in her hands. “I believe in the payment of debts. You did me a great service. I must repay you.”

He gasped as another twinge of agony shot through him. “By trying to drive me mad with pain?”

“No, I told you that I would make you a gift. A tunic with embroidery so beautiful that it will stun everyone who sees it.”

“Keep your gift. I’m a plain man. I would never wear such a garment.”

She thought about it. “Then I’ll make you a banner. A warrior should have his own banner. What design should I embroider on it? A falcon?”

“It doesn’t matter. Save your efforts. I fight for gold, not glory.”

“A banner,” she said firmly. “And every knight in Christendom will envy you.”

“Then they would be fools,” he said with sudden violence. “I’m not a man to be envied.”

She paused in midmotion and then resumed kneading. “You are rich. You have a fine castle. Surely there are many who would envy you.”

He was silent.

“Well, at any rate, they’ll envy you your banner.”

His muscles relaxed a trifle. “You’re certain you can create something so wondrous?”

“Of course.”

He chuckled. “I should not have left you alone with Kadar. He, too, believes he can work miracles.”

“Not miracles. I just do splendid work.” The muscles of his neck were loosening, so she lessened the pressure. “And one should not be modest about one’s work. Someone might believe you less than you are.”

“A terrible fate.”

“Your neck is feeling better?”

“Yes. You have strong hands.” He added deliberately, “Not the hands of a lady who sits at an embroidery loom.”

“I knotted the silk in carpets when I was a child. My mother persuaded Nicholas to let her train me in embroidery, but it was almost too late. She had to work three years to straighten the muscles of my hands and fingers.”

“Straighten?”

“Children’s hands and bones are not fully formed. When they’re set to working the carpets for long hours, the muscles become cramped and twisted and the hands crippled for anything but the task.”

“Good God. Then why do they set children to do such work?”

“Children’s hands are small and the task is delicate,” she said matter-of-factly. “Everyone uses children for the carpet making.”

“And will you?”

“No, I will not use children at all.” She added with satisfaction, “The muscles are almost unknotted. Now it should begin to feel good.”

“It does.” He was silent a moment. “How did your mother work with your hands?”

“Like this. Every evening she pulled and stretched and kneaded. We were given a rest from the embroidery loom every four hours, and she made me open and close them over and over.”

“Why the devil did she let them put you to that task to begin with?” he asked harshly.

“I think you’re eased.” She started to remove her hands. “I’ll tell Omar to bring more hot—”

His hand shot over his shoulder and caught her wrist, his gaze still straight ahead. “Why?”

“Let me go.”

He pulled her hand forward until it was in his field of vision. “Small,” he murmured. “Clean, well shaped.” His thumb rubbed one of the calluses on her forefinger. “But strong. I like your hands, Thea of Dimas.” He brought it to his lips and lazily licked the palm. “I would have been very angry if they had been crippled.”

She could scarcely breathe. “You would not have known. We would never have met. I’d never have dared to come to Damascus if I’d had only the skills I learned as a child.”

He licked her palm again. “Why would your mother be so cruel as to let her child be used so brutally?”

“My mother wasn’t cruel.” Each time he touched her palm, a strange tingling jolt went up her arm and through her body. “Don’t…do that.”

“The oil on your hands is lemon flavored. I like the taste. Why did she let you be put to that task?”

“She…had no choice. She begged Nicholas to—” She was saying too much. Dear heavens, she was feeling too much. She jerked her hand away and jumped to her feet. “Why are you questioning me? That time has nothing to do with now. My mother is dead.”

“How did she die?”

“Of the fever. Several women died that winter.” She moved hurriedly toward the door. “I will get Omar….”

“Thea.”

She stopped with her hand on the door. “I will answer no more questions.”

“I…thank you.”

Her gaze flew back to him. His big body gleamed like burnished bronze in the water, but it was his expression that held her. Gentleness from the beast?

He quickly lowered his gaze to the water. He said gruffly, “Though I had no need of your services. I was only a little stiff.” He scowled. “Well, maybe more than a little.”

A smile tugged at her lips. He sounded like a cross little boy.

“And I don’t want Omar.” He reached for the soap. “Send me Tasza.”

Her smile vanished. He was not a little boy. He was a rude, lustful brute who used women only as toys.

“As you wish.” The door slammed behind her.

Jasmine was waiting in the hall. Her gaze immediately went to the damp bodice of Thea’s gown. “You are wet. Did he put his hands on you?”

“No,” she said curtly. “I was leaning against the tub. He didn’t touch me.” Yet she felt as if he had. Her breasts felt heavy and ripe, and the palm of her hand still tingled. “I told you that was not my intention.” She turned and moved down the hall toward her chamber. “He wants Tasza.”

“Good. I will go tell her.”

Thea closed her door, then moved toward the window and threw open the shutters. The breeze rushed in, cooling her hot cheeks. Why did she respond in this manner to that man? He was rough and had the barbaric sensuality of a wild animal and was everything that was alien to her. She had thought that if ever a man were to draw her, he would be someone kind and gentle, handsome and smooth as a length of Chinese silk. Ware of Dundragon was more like strong, supple leather studded with spikes. It had been a mistake to try to help him.

Yet she could not have done anything else. He had kept his promise and given her what she needed at evidently some risk to himself. She owed him far more than a momentary easing.

“I’ve brought you another gown.”

Thea turned to see Jasmine standing in the open doorway. The woman shut the door, came forward, and draped a blue cotton gown on the back of the chair. “You cannot wear that one every day. You will soil it, as you did in Lord Ware’s bath.”

“It’s almost dry now.” That sounded ungracious so she sought to make amends. Quickly glancing at the gown, she commented, “It’s a pretty color.”

“Lord Ware gave it to Tasza, but it does not become her.”

“Tasza?” Thea repeated, startled. “She offered me her gown?”

Jasmine shrugged. “She won’t miss it. She has many gowns. When Lord Ware brings a woman to his house from the village, he gives her many presents. When she returns to Jedha, she has a fine dowry with which to make a good marriage.”

“But would a man accept a woman who—” She stopped, afraid to offend Jasmine. It was clear the servant had a fondness for Tasza. “In Constantinople men prize women who are untouched.”

Jasmine smiled with a touch of bitterness. “It is the same here, but Jedha is a very poor village. We have no fertile land, and before Lord Ware came to Dundragon, we barely managed to eke out a living in these barren hills. He took the young men and gave them fine armor and taught them how to fight. He gave the older men and women a place here as his servants.”