The Outworlder (9 page)

“What did you say?”

“What?” He glanced back at her, frowning. “I
didn’t say anything.”

Sahara shook her head as he moved off again.
She knew she had heard him say something.

At last the hulking white shape of the manor
house loomed above them, and the path swerved to bring them into
the courtyard by a little arched gateway dripping with white and
purple flowers. Sahara paused and cupped her hand around the tender
blossoms. At her touch, they yielded their softly sweet fragrance,
and Sahara closed her eyes, drinking in the scent. When she opened
her eyes again, she found Jared watching her with that steady,
unreadable gaze that made her spine prickle. After a wordless
moment, he turned and they continued along the way.

Jared led her straight on, never speaking,
until they reached the door of his chambers. It suddenly struck her
that he had never brought her here before, and she wondered why he
was doing it now.

“Here we are,” he said, unlocking the door
and holding it open for her to enter.

Sahara stepped inside, her eyes flitting over
the room and taking in all its angles in a moment. The rack of
swords over the fireplace caught and held her attention.

“Very nice,” she murmured, moving closer to
the fireplace to examine them. She reached up and touched one, a
viciously curved scimitar with a widening point and a jeweled
handle. “Where did you get all these swords?” she asked over her
shoulder.

Jared shrugged and went to pour himself a
drink. “I collect them. Some I inherited from my father, and some I
have taken from my enemies.”

Sahara stared at him for a moment, wondering
why she had never appreciated the skilled warrior beneath his cool
and even gentle demeanor. Then she returned her attention to the
swords and removed the scimitar from its place, testing its weight
and balance. It was curiously light, and she tried several passes
with it.

“What about this one? I’ve seen—I mean, I’ve
never seen one like it before.”

Jared’s eyes flickered at her for a moment,
but he asked no questions. “That one is my most prized possession.”
He sat down and crossed his boots on the table. “I had that off one
of the Dragon-Lords. The one who killed my sister.” He paused for a
moment, then took a long drink from his glass.

Sahara replaced the sword carefully in the
rack and then turned slowly around. “Really?” Then, almost
carelessly, “How many of them are here now?”

Jared swirled his drink. “Maybe as many as
five. Well, four, since that one—” he gestured at the sword— “is no
longer a concern. It’s hard to be sure. We never see them unless…”
His voice trailed off and he shook his head. “It’s just hard to be
sure.”

Sahara said nothing. She gazed around the
room more slowly this time, taking in its rich but unpretentious
masculinity. At last, her eyes came to rest on Jared’s boots,
crossed on the table, and the pile of parchments and books tumbled
next to them.

“What’s all that?” she asked. “Are you a wise
man?”

“That all depends on who you ask, I guess,”
Jared said with a grin.

Sahara smiled. “No. I mean, I’m sure that’s
true, but that’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant. Come and see.” He
beckoned for her to join him at the table.

“These are maps, Jared,” she remarked,
lifting the topmost sheet off the stack. “What do you need maps
for?”

“That’s what I brought you here to show you,”
he said.

She studied the map with interest, then
raised her eyes to his. “Either your world isn’t very large or your
people don’t get around much. This map stops at that ridge of dunes
where you found me all those weeks ago.” She flipped through the
rest of the stack. “And not one of these goes much further west
than that.”

“I know,” Jared said with a sigh. “But this
is all we have. None of our people dare go further west than those
dunes. We don’t have anything recent that would tell us who else is
left. And no one has ever been north beyond the foothills of the
mountains. That’s where
they
are, you understand.”

“You mean the Dragon-Lords, I suppose,”
Sahara said, glancing up at him.

“Yes. And as for the south….” His voice
trailed off and he twirled his glass again.

“What about the south?”

“There used to be settlements there.
Prosperous little villages and cities. And the Great City used to
sprawl over the banks of the River Alba, just where it flows out
into the southern sea. Its king ruled all these lands, all the way
up to the mountains, and his city had amassed such riches as have
never been seen in this world before or since.”

“And these places aren’t there any
longer?”

After a long silence, Jared answered slowly,
“We don’t know. We’ve had no word for many months, and there have
been no messengers from the Great City for almost three years. We
fear that the city was destroyed by the Dragon-Lords, its wealth
confiscated, and its people either killed or enslaved. But we
haven’t dared find out for sure. The last time someone tried, the
retribution was terrible and swift.”

“So what does that make Albadir?” Sahara
asked with a short laugh. “The last remaining human stronghold on
this horrible desert world?”

“Yes, actually.”

She stared at him for a moment, taken aback
by the brutal honesty in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said slowly.
“Truly, I am sorry. But I don’t see what this has to do with
me.”

“The point is that we stand alone here,
Sahara. All we have left lies within these walls. And it’s not much
for world-building. You can’t expect—”

“In my opinion, it seems that you need to
take care of the little problem with the Dragon-Lords before you
can even begin contemplating the idea of world-building.” She
traced the spine of one of the books and then picked it up to
examine the cover. “From all I hear, the Dragon-Lords aren’t very
generous with territorial rights. As long as they rule here, this
is all the blessed plot of earth you can expect.”

“That’s true enough,” he said. “But it
doesn’t seem that much can be done on that score. All-out war with
the Dragon-Lords is impossible. It’s been tried, and tried more
than once. It has cost Albadir dearly every time. We just don’t
have the manpower or the supplies for another assault on the
fortress.”

“Who said anything about an assault?” she
asked quietly. “Look, maybe you failed in the past because you used
the wrong tactics.” She rubbed her finger along the embossed
lettering on the cover of the book, not daring to meet his
gaze.

“You mystify me,” Jared said after a moment.
Sahara glanced up in surprise, but he continued before she could
answer. “No, truly, you mystify me. Your ship crashes and everyone
dies but you. You wander out into the desert and nearly die
yourself. You seem to forget that you’re a stranger here. You don’t
know our ways, and yet you talk as though you’re some kind of
savior for our people. I’m afraid I don’t understand that at
all.”

Sahara shrugged. “You think I had no past
before that ship went down?”

“I’m sure you did have a past, but up to this
point you haven’t been very willing to share it.”

“I’m not willing to share it.” Her eyes
clashed with his. “So you’ll just have to take it on faith that I
have some idea what I’m talking about.”

Jared laughed aloud. “Take it on faith? On
faith?” He shook his head. “Look, Sahara, if you want people to
start believing you at your word, you’re going to have to prove to
them that you can be trusted. Your list of accomplishments to date
doesn’t include many that would lead people to believe that you’re
out for their best interest.”

“That’s hardly fair!”

“Fairness is a term I find to be utterly
meaningless. Have I said something untrue? Because truth is really
what we’re discussing here, after all.”

“No, you haven’t, but—”

“But nothing. At your first public
appearance, you proudly announced to everyone that you’re a
convict—and a dangerous one at that. And whenever I take you over
to the tavern, someone always ends up with something broken, even
if it’s just his pride.”

Sahara dropped the book on the table. “That
was not my fault tonight! He was a liar and a cheat! I won that
game fairly, Jared, and you know it! What was I supposed to do, let
him cheat? Let him lie?”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe you
should just stay the hell out of situations like that to begin
with? If you weren’t so keen on giving everyone an inferiority
complex, you’d make a much better impression on people!”

“Including you?”

Their eyes met again. Jared’s unfathomable
obsidian eyes never wavered, and after a moment Sahara had to drop
her gaze. She twisted her hands and tried to think of something to
say, but all of her self-assertion and flippancy seemed to have
drained out of her.

“Sahara,” Jared said, a little more gently,
“I think I begin to understand you, but I would never presume to
judge you.”

“Everybody judges,” she snapped, still
avoiding his eyes.

“No, not everybody. I don’t. You want to help
Silesia—or so you say. And I want to help you. Surely we can find a
way to work together?”

“How can you possibly help me? You have no
idea….” Her voice trailed off as she remembered what he had told
her of his own past. Maybe he did have some idea after all. “What
do you want me to do, then? Become a simpering little idiot like
those girls at the bar?”

Jared grinned. “No! God forbid! You just need
to find the person inside…to discover who you really are, not who
you’ve had to become.”

Sahara looked up at last. “How do I tell the
difference?”

“That’s what I want to help you
discover.”

Sahara measured him for a moment. Everything
inside her wanted to push him away, to run, to retreat back into
some isolated corner. But she sighed and silenced her doubts.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll do this your way…for
now.”

“So, what do you think?”

Jared looked up from the maps he was studying
and tried to focus on Sahara’s figure, outlined against the
brilliant glow of summer sunshine. He rubbed his eyes, strained
from poring over barely legible documents in the dusty half-light
of the library.

“About what?” He rubbed his eyes again. At
the same time, he struggled to heave his reluctant mind out of the
matters he had been considering so deeply for the past three
hours.

“About my dress, of course.”

He could hear the frown in her voice. “Sorry,
Sahara,” he said, standing and stretching his back. “I’ve been
closeted in here for so long that I’m nearly blind.”

She suddenly moved aside, letting the light
flood into the room, and he heard her calling with a laugh in her
voice, “Then come outside!”

He stumbled out the door and stood blinking
like an idiot in the blaze of sunshine. The library, an old domed
building draped with vines, lay across the river from the orchard,
connected to the rest of the palace buildings by a weathered stone
bridge. It was fully high summer now, and the boughs of the fruit
trees drooped under the weight of their yield. Even the breeze felt
lazy as it rolled languidly through the orchard, rippling over the
river and stirring his dark hair. The heady warm scent of ripe
fruit enveloped him, and his stomach growled.

“Did I even eat this morning?” he mumbled to
himself, running a hand through his hair.

“Come on, Jared!”

He looked around for Sahara for a moment,
then caught sight of her standing on the bridge, laughing at him.
He made his way across the grass to the foot of the bridge, but
that was as far as he got.

She was a vision.

The summer sun had pearled her skin into a
delicate pink and streaked her rust-red hair with gold. Her
sleeveless dress was the color of shallow water over white sand,
and the breeze fluttered it around her calves. The amethyst chain
still circled her ankle, and when she moved her hand to hold her
hair from blowing in her eyes, the silver bangles on her arm
jingled.

Oh, my God
, Jared thought, taking a
deep breath.

Sahara’s face suddenly blossomed into a
smile, though her brows drew together in a little frown. “You
really like it, then?”

“What?” he asked stupidly.

“The dress! You like it?”

“It’s…where did you get it?”

“Lady Aliya. I asked her about some new
clothes, and she brought her seamstress and loads of fabric, and
this is the result.” She turned to the side to let him see the
back. “I thought it would be perfect for the summer festival
tonight.”

“I’d forgotten all about that.” He joined her
in the middle of the bridge. “But you look stunning. I
mean…stunning.”

“Really?” She was almost tangibly radiating
pleasure.

“Really.” Jared let his eyes linger on her
face, and the delicate pink of her cheeks became suddenly deeper.
Her reaction surprised him almost as much as it seemed to surprise
her.

“I was wondering,” she said hurriedly,
turning her face away to gaze out over the water, “if you would
help me with something.”

“Yes?”

“It’s just…I’m…well, I’m nervous. Parties
have never been my thing, and…” Her eyes met his, and in a voice
that was little more than a whisper she said, “I’m afraid I’ll make
a total fool out of myself, even after everything you’ve tried to
teach me about behaving myself in public. I’m afraid I’ll forget
everything.”

And she expects me to remember anything
when she looks like this?
he marveled to himself.
I
wish…

“You wish what?” She was smiling at him
again, a smile both daring and a little shy, but he could see the
bewilderment in her eyes.