Tapestries 03 - Woven Dreams (3 page)

Every step hurt, but she swallowed the pain, knowing that the more she moved the less stiff she’d be tomorrow. Grabbing her thin cloak, she threw it over her shoulders, tying it at her throat. Yanking her other dress from the hook, she started to bundle it with her spare chemise. The tapestry. She couldn’t leave it behind.

Hurrying to the bed, she shoved her hand beneath the mattress, sighing with relief when her fingers touched the fabric. Unfolding her dress, she carefully placed the tapestry on top and wrapped it. She bundled her belongings into her blanket and threw it over her shoulder.

“Quickly, Genny. I have some supplies for you.” Spurred on by the urgency in his voice, she rushed out the door without a backward glance. She’d spent every night of her life in that room, but she would not miss it. He blew out the candle and she followed him into the darkness.

They crept down the stairs and around several men who had passed out in the corridors. Radnor led her toward the kitchen, out through a side door and onto the grounds. Neither of them spoke as they walked.

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The night sky was clear and dotted with stars, the moon adding its glow to beat back the darkness. The air was cool, but her dress was stuck to her back with sweat. A night bird emitted a low-pitched call. The woods and freedom were just beyond the walls. Genita concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Her heart was pounding and her head was spinning. She was escaping.

Radnor paused long enough to haul a satchel out from behind a bush, but he kept going. Only when they were at the far corner of the outside wall did he stop. “There’s several days worth of food, some cooking utensils, herbs and basic medical supplies to help you tend your injuries.” He thrust the satchel into her arms. “Take this as well.” He handed her a dagger and pressed several coins into her palm. “It’s not much, but it’s all I could get without arousing suspicion.”

“Thank you.” She was touched to tears by his efforts on her behalf. Having spent her entire life thinking that none of her brothers cared for her, it was surprisingly hard for her to leave him now. Her fingers closed over the coins, causing the rough metal edges to dig into her skin. She shoved them into the pocket of her dress. Gripping the handle of the dagger, she carefully tucked it into her satchel.

He shook his head. “I have done nothing. Less than nothing. And certainly not near as much as I should have.” Bending down, he brushed a kiss on her cheek. “Take care, Genita, and send word to the blacksmith in town if you are able. He is loyal to me and will not give either of us away.”

“Radnor…” She wasn’t quite sure what to say—there was so much she wanted to tell him.

“Shh.” He covered her lips with his fingers. “Go. Be free and find happiness for both of us.”

In the next breath, he was gone. She could see his shadow slipping back toward the hulking building behind them. Taking a deep breath, she turned her back on everything she’d ever known and slipped out the tiny opening. It closed, the lock clicking with finality, and she faced the world alone for the very first time.

Staring up at the sky, she lost herself in the sheer vastness of it all. A light streaked across the night, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. A shooting star! The last time she’d seen one of those she’d been a child. Taking it as a good omen, she turned her back to her home and took the first step toward freedom.

*

Jarmon stacked his hands behind his head and stared up at the night sky. The past few days had been the best he’d had in a long time. He’d enjoyed hunting and fishing alongside his brother. It was amazing how easily they’d fallen into old patterns, working side by side the way they always had.

Turning his head, he stared though the darkness at his brother, who was sprawled out on his own blankets a few feet away. They’d roasted fresh fish for their supper, supplementing it with the last of the bread they’d brought from home. Both of them 15

had eaten until they couldn’t manage another bite, much like they used to when they were boys and Zaren and Bador would take them out hunting. This time, instead of making him sad, the memories made him smile.

The fresh air and relative quiet of the forest soothed his soul, almost giving him hope for the future. The hum of the insects had died down with the setting of the sun and now there was only the occasional buzz or chirp. He peered upward. Several nights ago, he’d watched a light streak across the sky. His mother had always insisted that a shooting star was a portent that something significant was about to happen in the viewer’s life. Personally, he didn’t believe in such superstition, but it had been a beautiful sight.

“Do you ever think about it?” Garrik broke the silence between them. Blankets rustled slightly as he rolled over on his side to face Jarmon.

He’d known this was coming. It was part of the reason he’d invited his brother on this trip, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “Sometimes.” A part of him wished it was lighter so that he could see Garrik’s face to read his expressions. On the other hand, he was glad that it was night. Somehow it was easier to talk in the dark. He didn’t want to see horror or pity in his brother’s eyes.

“I felt it.”

His brother’s softly spoken words made him stiffen. Pushing himself to a seated position, he shifted closer. “What did you say?” Garrik scrubbed his hand across his face as he rolled up into a seated position as well. “I felt it.”

Jarmon was almost afraid to ask, but he had to know. “What did you feel?”

“I felt it when Leon Craddock’s sword sliced the fingers from your hand.” Garrik rubbed the last two fingers on his left hand. “I thought I’d lost mine. I was surprised when I glanced down and they were still there.” He was quiet for a moment as if gathering himself to continue. “I also felt your fear and horror as he struck his final blow. I thought you were dead. I think that for a short while, perhaps you were.”

“I’m so sorry, Garrik.” It horrified him to think that his brother had experienced even a small portion of what he’d gone through. Jarmon had always gathered strength from the knowledge that his brother had been spared injury during that fateful battle.

To learn that he hadn’t come away unscathed hurt Jarmon in ways he’d never imagined.

Garrik shrugged. “There is nothing to be sorry for. It is simply a fact. The void I felt when I thought you dead was worse than any injury. It was as if part of me was dead too.”

Jarmon reached out and clasped his brother’s hand in his. He purposely used his ruined hand. Garrik’s fingers closed over his thumb and two remaining fingers. “I think that maybe I was dead for a short time. Everything was dark. Peaceful. Then I felt your pain and I could not leave you.”

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He could feel his brother’s body trembling with emotion, but Jarmon wasn’t finished yet. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to talk about this again so he had to finish it. “I came back, yet I have left you alone this past year. For that I am sorry and beg your forgiveness.”

Garrik yanked him forward, enveloping him in a hug. “There is nothing to forgive,” he whispered in his brother’s ear.

Tears pricked Jarmon’s eyes and he swallowed heavily. He wrapped his arms around his brother and held him tight. Emotion flowed between them although neither spoke. It was unnecessary. They both knew how the other felt. When the emotions began to subside, Jarmon sat back. Both of them swiped at their eyes, laughing as they watched the other do the same.

Garrik cleared his throat. “How do you feel about your injuries?” Obviously his brother wasn’t finished with his questions and Jarmon felt as if he owed him nothing less than the truth. He thought carefully about his reply. “They are what they are. The biggest challenge was adjusting for the differences in my arm.

Everything is more difficult. Even though I am right-handed, I use my left in all aspects of fighting.” It was his double-handed grip on his sword that had suffered the most.

He’d had his sword clasped tight in his right hand with his left facing outward when Leon Craddock had sliced the bottom two fingers from his hand.

“But you’ve managed well.” Garrik’s voice was filled with pride.

“I almost gave up a hundred times. The injury to my left shoulder made it harder to build the muscles I needed to compensate for the loss of strength to my hand. Then there is my leg.” He would always limp slightly. His leg was as good as it was ever going to be.

“But you did it.”

He could hear the stubbornness in Garrik’s voice and it made him smile. “Aye, I did it. With you and Zaren and Bador pushing and prodding me, I didn’t have much choice.” His brothers had loved him too much to allow him to wallow and he loved and respected them too much to disappoint them.

Garrik shrugged. “What else are older brothers for if not to plague the youngest?” Jarmon chuckled. “You are older by mere minutes.” His brother had teased him his entire life about being younger.

“And don’t you forget it.” Smug pleasure was evident in Garrik’s voice.

“You’ll never let me.” He lowered himself back down onto his pallet and pulled his blanket around him. He could hear a light shuffling noise as Garrik did the same.

He stacked his hands behind his head again and stared up past the canopy of the trees to the night sky beyond. The stars were bright and the moon was half full. The buzz of the insects and the cries of the night birds as they hunted filled the air around him. The light breeze made the leaves of the trees swish in a relaxing cadence that was 17

almost musical. He could hear Garrik’s breathing slowing and deepening beside him as his brother drifted off to sleep. All was as it should be.

Jarmon closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to wander. He was glad he and Garrik had talked. They might not have said much in words, but he could feel the huge difference that the past few days had made in their relationship. It felt much as it did before. For that, Jarmon was grateful. He’d missed the special bond he’d shared with Garrik. He knew they still had some tough times ahead, but it was a good beginning, and that was all that mattered.

The more he relaxed, the more his thoughts roamed. His older brothers had a woman of their own. Would he and Garrik ever find one? What would she be like?

His body hardened at the thought of soft, feminine skin gliding over him. His cock lengthened and grew as a more complete image of her formed in his mind. Her hair would be long, falling in a dark curtain to her waist. He could imagine his fingers tangling in the thick mass as he held her tight to him and plundered her mouth. The ends of her hair would trail over his shoulders and chest, teasing him, heightening his pleasure.

Reality slipped away as he lost himself in the fantasy.

Her taste was addictive—a combination of mint and desire that drove him wild.

Their tongues curled together as they explored each other. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her short nails leaving small marks in his skin as he cupped her face with his hands, thrusting his tongue in and out of her moist mouth.

The scent of her perfumed soap rose from her skin as it heated with desire. He longed to bury his face between her lush breasts, breathing in her unique feminine fragrance. Her breasts were plump and full. He cupped them in his palms, allowing the softness of her skin to sink into his fingers. Leaning down, he stoked his tongue across her taut nipple. As he pulled his head back, he blew on it, making it pucker even tighter.

Reaching his hand beneath his blanket, he undid the laces of his pants. His erection sprang free and Jarmon wrapped his hand around it and pumped in a steady up and down motion.

He wished he could see what color her nipples were, but it was too dark. Rubbing his finger around the edges of her areolas, he learned their shape and size. Her nipples were large and sensitive. She moaned as he continued to circle her with his finger. An older man had once told him that some women could almost reach orgasm just by a man stroking their breasts. He wondered if she could reach her pleasure in this manner.

He longed to spend hours touching her, tasting her, discovering the secrets of her body.

Long and lithe, her legs wrapped around his flanks as she ground her pelvis against him, her hips cushioning him, inviting him deeper. Moving his hands lower, he cupped her bottom, arching her against his cock. Her pussy was damp with her juices, her hips bucking against him.

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The motion of his hand quickened and his breathing became more erratic.

He wanted to see her face, but a veil of darkness obscured it. He wanted to take the time to stroke every inch of her body, to spread her thighs wide and drink of her feminine desire as his fingers coaxed her even higher. But there was no time.

His balls drew up tight to his body.

She whimpered as he reached between their bodies, guiding his erection to the tight opening of her core. “Take me,” she whispered.

His head almost exploded as pleasure unlike anything he’d ever imagined washed over him. She belonged to him in a way he couldn’t explain. It didn’t matter how he knew this, he just did.

“Mine,” he growled as he flexed his hips, driving himself into her waiting depths.

He felt her slipping away, her body becoming insubstantial. He grasped her tighter, but he could not hold her. She faded into the darkness of the night, lost among the stars…

His cock jerked as spasms of pleasure rocked him. Cum sprayed from the tip, coating his stomach as he continued to pump his hand up and down the hard length.

Gritting his teeth, he swallowed his cries of satisfaction.

Spent, his hand slipped away, falling to his side. As his breathing slowed, the cool night air-dried the light sheen of sweat on his torso and face. He shivered, almost certain he could smell her perfume on the breeze. Sighing, he raked his hand through his hair.

Rolling silently to his feet, he hitched his pants over his hips, grabbed his sword and slowly made his way to the river that was near their camp. He didn’t bother with his boots. The last thing he wanted was Garrik to wake up and question him. He snorted lightly. He hadn’t had this vivid a fantasy in quite a long time. Well over a year in fact.