The Redwood Rebel (The Redwood War Book 1) (16 page)

Naomi realised immediately that he was trying to ask who Tristan was to her. It was obvious that they knew each other well, and she supposed that given the circumstances, he might be concerned about the reappearance of a potential lover. She nearly laughed at the absurdity and caught Tristan watching her with the same amusement on his face.

He bowed to Arun, and spoke sincerely. ‘Your wife and I have been good friends for my whole life.’

‘I’m
not
his wife,’ she corrected, drawing the gazes of both men again, startlement apparent on both their faces at the vehemence of her words. She hadn’t meant it to come out so harshly, but it was true. She didn’t want any assumptions to come back and haunt her later.

‘I see,’ Tristan looked bemused and Arun turned away from her. ‘I’d heard you were married from the dryads, but then, they also told me you had perished with the others years ago, so what do I know?’

He was being patronizing, but she knew better than to call him on it. Crossing her arms, she responded firmly. ‘Nothing is decided.’

Tristan looked between her and Arun and shrugged. ‘It sounds like a truly interesting story. I’m intrigued to know how anyone ever managed to coerce you into even considering such a decision, little sister.’

‘She certainly isn’t very easily won over,’ Arun replied before she had a chance, and she was surprised to find he was smiling softly too.

‘Don’t I know it,’ Tristan agreed. ‘Always had very high standards, let me tell you. For everything. Food, weapons, clothes… Let me offer you some advice, King Arun, and urge you never to take up the topic of silk with this lady.’

Yellow eyes widened in apparent shock as he whirled around to face her. ‘Silk?’

‘The agony!’ Tristan cried, grabbing the breast of his tunic and looking skywards dramatically. ‘I’ve never heard anyone in my life talk so long about the differences between silks, that Tsumetese is so much better quality than Korenian, and with such incredible enthusiasm.’

‘That seems a little frivolous,’ Arun said slowly. There was curiosity and amusement in the statement, and Naomi felt challenged by it.

‘I can be frivolous if I want to,’ she frowned, wondering how they could speak so light-heartedly after what had just happened.

Arun held up his hands in mock surrender. ‘I’m just a little surprised, that’s all.’

‘Why?’ she demanded. ‘Because I can fight, I’m not allowed to like pretty things? I have to dislike wearing dresses just because they aren’t practical? I have to be like a man in order to be perceived as strong?’

Arun looked thoughtful at that, but said nothing. It seemed she had finally managed to shut the man up.

‘Well!’ Tristan said loudly, breaking the silent awkwardness her words had brought. ‘You two can save that conversation for when the rest of us poor souls aren’t around to witness it, thank you.’

‘You started it.’ she reprimanded him.

‘So I did,’ he smiled back. ‘Still, I like this maybe-husband of yours. You might very well have met your match, little sister.’

‘Don’t encourage him, please.’ Naomi grumbled under her breath. Typical. Male bonding, that was all she needed. She indicated to the two prisoners still on the ground at their feet. ‘We have more pressing matters to attend to.’

‘Indeed we do.’

Arun, finding his voice once again, nodded to the older of the two. ‘Please, again I’d ask you to spare the boy. He’s young. He’ll learn from his mistakes.’

Naomi wasn’t at all sure of that, but knew that Tristan would probably agree. She wouldn’t be at all surprised if, once free, the young man in question went running back to Adrienne and related all he had seen. It occurred to her that he had even now heard things she would rather not shared with anyone, let alone her enemy.

‘Unfortunately, this is currently out of my jurisdiction,’ Tristan admitted, and looked to her. ‘Normally your punishment would be mine to decide, but I am only The Watcher. The forest isn’t mine, I only care for it, and today we are in the company of Naomi Redwood, whose authority even I must bow to.’

The horror she felt must have shown plainly on her features, for even as the last words left his lips, Tristan seemed to realise his error. She couldn’t look at Arun, but felt the Bond magic rise up violently with an exaltation that made her ill. Now he knew, and he would never let her get away.

Chapter Sixteen

Arun was completely dazed. He had been hypothesizing that Naomi was more than she pretended to be, even toyed with the idea of her being the legitimate heir to the Redwood Throne, but to hear it said out loud, to have these passing thoughts confirmed as truth, had been more of a shock than he might have anticipated. That his utter bewilderment had been mixed with her own shock at being exposed like that made it even harder to deal with. He was speechless, and could see the way she was struggling to keep her composure. She wouldn’t look at him, or The Watcher, and instead kept her eyes glued firmly on the prisoners.

In the silence of the dark forest, he heard her release a quiet breath as she bowed her head. ‘I don’t give a cuss what you do with them. It isn’t for me to decide, not any more.’

He could taste the bitterness of those words. Adrienne had seized power just about four years ago now, and it struck him that Naomi had been locked away for probably all of that time. Her family had been murdered, her country thrown into poverty, and by her own cousin, no less. It was small wonder she was so jaded. How would he have coped in that situation? Could he have come out of it with the determination she showed? It made him question everything he thought he knew about her. If he had suffered all that she had, and been offered her freedom and a chance for vengeance in exchange for a night with someone he wasn’t supposed to see again, he knew he would ultimately have decided to take it.

Still, if only she had told him. Things could have been so different between them.

Suddenly she turned and began to walk away from them all. The Watcher looked at him, then back to her retreating form. ‘Where are you going?’

‘My gaoler has lengthened my chains,’ she called back, jabbing her thumb over her shoulder at Arun without turning. ‘We need to get packed up and ready to leave. I’m sure the whole forest knows we’re here now.’

He flinched at her cold words, but felt a keen distaste for his actions that he had only just recently begun to brush the surface of, and realised he deserved it. Everyone had tried to tell him he was being cruel by physically restraining her with his magic, but he hadn’t listened. He kept his silence and watched as she reached the trunk of the tree they had been sleeping in, and taking it at a run, climbed up easily and out of view. He turned to Sergeant Naseem and motioned for him to get the men moving. They began to follow Naomi’s example and head out to the various trees they had been camping in.

There was a sickening crunch from behind him, and whipping around, he saw that the vines restraining Paget had tightened and snapped his neck and spine. The boy was still alive, eyes wide with shock and fear as he looked at the broken form of his commanding officer. The vine gagging him moved with a flick of The Watcher’s hand, and he knelt down in front of the boy.

‘You are being spared out of my respect for King Arun,’ he informed the gasping, sobbing young man. ‘But let me take this moment to warn you that should you go running back to that traitor who calls herself Queen, or partake in any further damage to the forest and its inhabitants, I will not be as merciful to you as I have been to your friend.’

Arun looked at the crushed, purpling form of the dead man and felt a little sick. He supposed at least it was a quick death, but didn’t care to think on what might have happened had the baby wood sprite been hurt.

The boy nodded quickly, and with a disgusted roll of his eyes, The Watcher released his bonds. As the young man scrambled to his feet, looking fearfully as though he expected it to be a trick while he backed off, Arun nodded once to him, and he fled. He had no weapons, no provisions, and Arun wondered if he would even survive the escape that had been granted him. Still, he had done what he could, and dared not ask for further mercy on his behalf. The Watcher and Naomi both seemed perfectly content to have simply killed him and have done.

It shocked him to find that all the rumours amongst his own people about all Ffionites being violent and practically lawless weren’t all that far from the truth. He tended to take things like that with a pinch of salt, but having been here himself now and seeing even good people like Naomi and Tristan kill without thought or trial had made him realise that it was just how things were here in Ffion. It made him uncomfortable, but to say anything would make him as bad as Naomi, who had judged his culture so dismissively with very little knowledge of her own to go on. This was not his land, and he had to abide by their rules.

‘I take it you weren’t aware of her identity then, Your Majesty?’ the Watcher spoke casually, lightly petting the small wood sprite still wrapped snugly about his forearm. ‘I apologise. I’m sure whatever her reasons for not telling you, she wouldn’t have meant for you to find out in such a way.’

Arun sighed. ‘I’m equally sure she didn’t mean for me to find out at all, but thank you.’

‘She doesn’t trust you.’ It was more of a statement than a question, but Arun felt compelled to answer anyway.

‘I haven’t exactly shown her my best side. I’m afraid the conditions of our first meeting and subsequent accidental marriage caused me to think badly of her, and her of me in the ensuing fallout.’

The Watcher nodded slowly. ‘Then I’m sorry for you both. I only hope you’ll treat her with the respect and compassion she deserves, and you both can learn to be happy.’

‘I appreciate that, but as you heard, at this point she doesn’t even consider our marriage to be legitimate.’

He didn’t know why he was being so open with this man of the forest, this complete stranger, but somehow it felt right. He obviously knew Naomi very well, and it was possible he could help Arun gain some insight into how best to handle the situation. Arun needed help now more than ever. He was at a loss as what to do, and through their magic-raw Bond, exposed by the loss of control on her part, he could feel how angry she was to have her identity revealed.

‘I’m not a diplomat, your Majesty, nor am I schooled in the ways of Courtly romance,’ The Watcher eyed him critically. ‘Still, it’s my firm belief that if you offer respect, you will receive it in return. Naomi isn’t the kind of person that would hold a grudge without just cause, and restraining her against her will isn’t going to endear you to her.’

Arun immediately felt defensive. ‘The Bond is indisputable. There’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing anyone can do about it.’

‘I understand that, Sire, and if that truly is the case then I’m certain Naomi will realise it for herself sooner or later, but the fact remains that you are holding her in other ways you do have control over.’

Arun knew immediately that it was the restriction spell he was once again being criticised for and frowned down at his boots. Realising how long she had been locked away, seeing her nightmares, and experiencing the cold torment for himself, he knew it wasn’t helping his cause that she still referred to him as her gaoler, but what choice did he have really? If she ran, and she would, he would have no choice but to follow her. The Bond wasn’t made to cover long distances, and it would cause them both great pain to be too far apart. He needed her to stay with him, to be his wife and Queen, and come back to Koren with him to live and sleep by his side. He knew it was cruel, that she didn’t want to, but what could he do?

If only she would understand that whatever she felt about it, they were Bonded to each other. It was unbreakable, and while knowing her lineage certainly made his life a lot easier and removed a great deal of worry from his mind, until she accepted it , he had no choice but to use every method available to him to keep her by his side.

‘I have no choice.’ He looked back up. ‘She’s mine, and that’s the end of it.’

The Watcher looked angry for a fraction of a second, startling him slightly, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. When he spoke, he sounded tranquil, but Arun could feel the malice behind his words. ‘Then perhaps the root of the problem is that she expects to be treated as an equal, and you clearly have no intention of doing so.’

‘I don’t-!’

‘She is a person, your Majesty, not a thing to be owned,’ the Watcher cut across his outraged response.

The Watcher turned and left, leaving Arun completely dumbfounded. He hadn’t meant it in that way! He knew she was a person, of course he did. He just meant that she was his wife, whether she liked it or not.

Even as he finished the thought, he realised how awful it had sounded. He’d never even considered the way he spoke and thought about her often reduced her to little more than a lump of meat that belonged to him. It was with a great sense of shock and mortification that he realised he spoke about his hunting dogs in much the same way.

It was similar to the mixture of emotions he had felt only that morning when she had pointed out how disrespectful his constant need to touch her in order to get her attention was. It seemed so obvious now it had been said aloud, but he had never even considered it before.

Naomi was a Princess, but she had clearly been raised to believe herself capable of anything she wanted to do. She could fight as well as any man under his command, and she was clever and strong. She bowed to no one, and it made him wonder just what his people would make of her. They valued strength, and while Korenian women were sheltered, protected as bringers of life and beauty, there was something so compelling about Naomi’s brand of femininity. He didn’t want to be drawn to it, attracted to her sheer force of will, but somehow he couldn’t help himself. What was more, he knew he wasn’t alone in that. None of his soldiers had seemed disapproving of her skill and leadership, and it made him wonder if the problem was actually just him having warped expectations.

There was a clatter of wood as Naomi dismantled their sleeping platform, and he turned to watch her land on her feet, bedroll and weapons slung across her back. She didn’t look at him, but began to kick the various branches they had used so it didn’t look as obvious that someone had made camp here. He knew it was habit that she did this, and didn’t like to point out that the blackened remains of the sell swords and their camp would be a giveaway to any passer-by. She was always very thorough in everything she put her hand to, he silently acknowledged with a small smile as he walked across to her.

‘So…’ he began, but she quickly cut him off, calling up to the other soldiers.

‘Make sure you remember to dismantle the platforms, please. We don’t want to encourage that clabbert nesting ground to spread.’

There were a few calls of assent that floated out of the trees to her, and Arun felt slightly displaced by her interruption. She didn’t look at him, instead knelt down and tied the bedroll a little tighter, trying her best to keep it out of the black soot. He decided to try again.

‘Why didn’t-’

‘Where’s Tristan wandered off to?’ she again spoke over him, still not looking up from what she was doing.

‘I’m, uh… I’m not sure,’ Arun hesitated. ‘Firefly? I just wanted to-’

‘My dart wound is gone,’ she stood and brushed herself off casually. ‘There’s a scar, but it looks old now. I’m feeling a lot better as well.’

He frowned and she turned to him, but still didn’t meet his eye, rolling her sleeve and showing the small scar where the wound had been only hours before. He didn’t know what to do, her behaviour not at all what he had been expecting, and watched her very deliberately not watching him.

‘May I?’ he asked, indicating her exposed arm, and she nodded. Very gently, he held her slim elbow in his hand and twisted it slightly so he could get a better look at the mark. It looked well enough, and he noticed that the limb was slightly fleshier than it had been that morning. Thoughtlessly, he ran the pad of his thumb over the little scar, and she flinched, jerking away. He let her go, annoyed with himself, and folded his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep from touching.

‘The automatic reaction of the Bond is to keep us both alive and well,’ he informed her quietly. ‘We’ve been repressing it until now in an attempt to make the situation easier on us both, but when you opened it up in your anger, it gave the spell a chance to repair you more than it’s been able to so far.’

Naomi rubbed the mark vigorously. ‘The spell has been healing me, though. I’ve felt it, and I’ve been using it each day to make up for my own weak energy reserves. You told me that.’

‘It would have been healing you much quicker had we left it open, though,’ he explained. ‘It’s been little more than a steady trickle, but the explosion you released gave it a greater chance to act.’

‘I’m hungry,’ she said, sounding surprised at the revelation. Finally she looked up at him, her eyes wide as she touched her stomach. ‘I’m
really
hungry.’

‘We’ll get you something to eat.’ Arun smiled at her childlike wonder of such a simple thing. Then he remembered that while she had always eaten with the rest of them, there had never been any enjoyment on her part. She had eaten because she knew she had to, but had been slow and only taken small amounts at a time. Her long-term starvation had made eating a painful process, and she had probably grown so used to having no food that it had been years since she had truly, honestly felt healthy hunger.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she grumbled, looking away again, and he realised his smile had turned into something sad and sympathetic for all she had suffered. He sighed.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’