VirtualWarrior (21 page)

Einalem ignored her. She moved methodically through the rows
of bottles and dishes.

“Do you see anything unusual?” Lien asked.

Einalem tipped a bowl toward them. “A very large quantity of
the herbs that prevent birth. She must have a very virile lover to need so
much.”

“They do not look like the ones you…have,” Ardra said and
glanced at Lien. He merely lifted his eyebrows.

Einalem smiled at her. “
These
herbs are taken before
one makes love.” Einalem lifted the bowl and weighed it in her hands. “In fact,
I stand corrected. ‘Tis the quantity needed to cause a birth to slip.”

“What?” Ardra abandoned her spot at the door. She looked
closer at the deep bowl filled with innocent green herbs. It could be a mix to
season soup, save for the scent, which was that of the forest, not the garden.
“What are you speaking of?”

“Looks like a salad to me,” Lien said.

Einalem shook the bowl. “Do the Selaw women not rid
themselves of unwanted babies?”

Ardra stared at Einalem and then looked away.
Did they?
She settled for a noncommittal shrug.

Einalem stirred the bowl with a wooden stick. “I would
imagine ‘tis the same where you come from, is it not, Lien?”

“Yeah. It’s the same.”

What else do I not know of a woman’s world?
Ardra
wondered.

“This is a fresh mixture,” Einalem said. “It looks ready to
simmer. And this,” she moved to a wooden box whose lid lay by its side, “this
is a very rare find.”

“Is it the potion?” Ardra asked, resuming her place by the
door, where she peered through the small crack, grateful to avoid more talk of
babes, wanted or not.

“Nay.” Einalem wet her finger, dipped it in the box, then licked
her fingertip. “‘Tis a fine grind, this is.”

“What is it?” Ardra hissed.

Einalem pursed her lips. “It is a spice to season food.
Sometimes used to mask other tastes. If food is stale and so on.”

Ardra abandoned the door again, but Lien clamped a hand over
her wrist when she reached out to sample it. “Don’t taste it,” he warned.

“It is just ground nuts,” Einalem said.

Lien eased his grip, and Ardra smelled the powder, then
tasted it. “This was in the bread served to us before we retired.”

“I believe you are right.” Einalem replaced the lid and then
moved about the chamber, setting it to rights.

“I have seldom slept so deeply. Do you think Cidre put it in
our bread to hide a sleeping potion?”

Einalem laughed. “Sleeping potion? ‘Twas just fatigue, my
dear. Why should she put us to sleep?”

Lien answered for her. “So she could hide something without
our interference? We did surprise her.”

Einalem shook her head. “Nay. One cannot surprise a goddess.
She has spies everywhere.”

They left the herbarium without locating anything resembling
the Vial of Seduction. How Ardra wished to arrange a repeat inspection with
Nilrem, but he lacked courage.

Lien cleared his throat. “I’m going to have a chat with the
pilgrims. Take a nap if you can; you look tired.” He touched Ardra’s shoulder,
but for only a fleeting instant, then walked away.

She spent a moment watching how he leaned on his stick and
remembering the fine, hard lines of his body beneath the tunic and leather
breeches. A laugh dragged her back from useless dreams. Einalem’s laugh.

Einalem had joined the men and Cidre at the hearth.

Ardra did not trust Einalem, but had to admit the woman had
quickly identified each substance and its uses, finding nothing unusual save
the large quantity of herbs to prevent birth.

Ardra skirted the hall. It was time to take the nap Lien had
recommended.

She also wished to avoid the conversations that burbled
around her like so much water over a dam. She could not stay and watch Lien
talk to Cidre, or the other pilgrims, for that matter. She did not wish to hear
them laud the pilgrim life, nor did she wish to embarrass herself by disputing
their claims.

In her chamber, she did as Lien had the night before, she
jammed a chair beneath the latch.

She washed her face and hands. When she went to lie down,
Lien’s pack sat in the center of her bed. Curiosity bloomed like a troublesome
weed. She dug in Lien’s pack, but found only his tunic and a pot of oil she
assumed was for his rash.

The tunic should be washed. She sat on the floor and pressed
her face into the soft linen and breathed his scent. Something fell from its
folds—one of the strips of cloth Nilrem had bound about Lien’s wounds. The
cloth was clean, and within its neat folds was the leaf from the Tree of Valor.

Lien had kept it. It felt as fresh as if it had just dropped
from the tree. How was that possible? Did he know this heart-shaped leaf was
once a token passed from one lover to another?

She pressed the leaf to her face and wept.

What a fool she had been to lie in bed with him. Had she not
already made a fool of herself over another comely man?

Did Lien wear a false face? He made love, but wanted none of
the consequences.

Why had she not heeded the warning painted on his arm? Now
he would go. She should thank the gods that Cidre had put a sleeping potion in
their bread. Else she might be wondering if she would bear another child who
must live a hard life without a father to aid and teach him.

Someone pushed on the door. Deleh whispered her name.

“I cannot be found wailing like a simpleton over Lien’s
shirt,” Ardra whispered. As Deleh wandered away, Ardra wrapped up the leaf and
returned it to the pack. The tunic went into a pile of her own garments that
needed washing. To remove the signs of weeping, she splashed cold water on her
face.

The pot of oil on the floor must be from Einalem, meant to
ease Lien’s rash. She opened it. Inside, the oil was thick, and she touched her
fingertip to it and sniffed. She recognized the scent. She had a salve just
like it to smooth on burns. Carefully she placed the pot in Lien’s pack,
retrieved his tunic, and folded it on top.

Was that how she had found it? Would he know she had gone
through his things? She decided he was not so neat as to fold his tunic, so she
pulled it out again and stuffed it carelessly in with guilty haste.

She curled on the bed and did as she had not done since her
mother’s death—she cried herself to sleep. A hard rap on the door woke her with
a start. “Who is it?” she called.

“Samoht. Open this door. Now.”

She dragged the chair away. He swept into the room and
slammed the door behind him.

“What are you doing hiding in here? How can you find the
vial if you are lying abed or primping?”

“I was washing my face. I was about to return to the hall
when you arrived.”

“What is this?” Samoht picked up Lien’s pack. He rounded on
her. “This is the pilgrim’s, is it not?”

“Aye. He has no other place to keep it.”

Samoht cast it aside. He was upon her in two strides. “You
are lying with him, are you not?” He gripped her arms and shook her. “You press
your knees together and protest when I touch you, but for him, a dark-haired
freak, for him you will spread yourself.”

He kissed her hard, stifling any protest she might make. He
walked her back against the table and leaned over her. He was strong, aroused,
angry.

She clamped her hands on his shoulders and tried to twist
from his grasp. He gripped her wrists and jerked them apart.

“Scream, Ardra. Go ahead. Scream and summon help. It will
surely be my men who come.”

She choked back the shriek that was on her lips. “Aye.
Scream for help and I will see your Lien castrated, a common fate for a slave
who dares to lie with his mistress.”

He slid his hands over her breasts. “I will see your boy
banished, and you,” he kissed her throat, “you I will chain to my bed until I
am sated. Go ahead and scream. It will bring me great pleasure to punish your
refusal.”

Bile rose in her throat. He held her against the table, his
body pressed between her thighs. He pulled up her skirt and ran his hand over
her hip.

“Perhaps I should give your Lien to a few diseased outcasts.
You know who I mean. The ones who prefer the favors of men to women. Then I
will castrate him.”

“Stop this, Samoht. You do not want me.” She reached for her
eating dagger. Her hand trembled. She would kill him before she would submit to
him.

He gripped her chin. “I have wanted you since I witnessed
your mating.” He kissed her mouth. She whipped her face aside and he laughed.
“Did Tol satisfy you? Or did you take lovers? How many? Ollach? I would like to
castrate him, too.”

“Ardra!” Lien burst into the room, tearing Samoht off her.
He tossed the high councilor across the room and stepped in front of her. When
Samoht came to his knees, Lien snatched up his stick and held it in both hands.

“You dare touch me! You dare threaten me!” Samoht scrambled
to his feet and jerked his tunic straight.

Three men, Red Rose Warriors, crowded the doorway.

Ardra snatched at Lien’s arm to hold him back.

Samoht pointed at Lien. “Take this pilgrim and lock him up.
He is charged with assaulting a councilor.”

Ralen shoved his way into the room and stood in front of the
guards. “What is the commotion here?” he asked.

Ardra hung on to Lien’s arm.

“This man,” Lien shouted, “was raping Ardra.”

“Samoht?” Ralen slapped his hands flat on Samoht’s chest to
prevent him from lunging at Lien. “Is this true?”

“She was willing. Were you not?” Samoht stared at her, all
his threats plain on his face.

“Aye,” she whispered.

“Ardra!” Lien stared at her in disbelief.

“Lien, you misunderstood,” Ralen said. “You surely can’t
believe that. Look at her. She can’t even look you in the eye!”

The warriors stepped back in wary silence. Ralen walked to
Ardra and lifted her chin. “Look at me and tell me the truth.”

Her mouth trembled. Samoht would castrate Lien. Harm her
son. She had almost killed him with her eating dagger. Her life would be
forfeit for such an offense. She gulped back her tears.

“Lien misunderstood.” She stared at Ralen, but her words
were for Samoht. “Please, Samoht, I beg of you, do not punish him. Nilrem made
Lien vow to protect me.”

Ralen gently moved the hair from her face. “I think there is
more going on here than you wish to admit. But it would serve no one to
continue this. Samoht, I think it hasty to have Lien locked up for defending
Ardra.”

Samoht stabbed the air in Lien’s direction. “He came after
me with that stick.”

Ralen shook his head. “A stick? You wear a dagger, your men
have swords. He can hardly do you much harm with a stick.”

“I demand an apology for his mistake.”

Lien opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked at Ardra.
She wanted to beg him to acquiesce, but could not. Tears dripped down her face.

“Sure. I apologize,” Lien said. He set the tip of his stick
on the ground. “I was hasty. My mistake.”

Ralen heaved an audible sigh. “Now, Samoht, send your men
away. And Lien, fetch Deleh that she may tend to Ardra.”

Samoht ordered his men away, and Lien walked out just behind
them. Ardra wanted to hang on to him but could not.

The door shut. Ralen walked across the chamber to Samoht and
kicked him in the thigh.

Samoht fell with a crash and lay there, writhing in pain.
When he stopped gasping, Ralen pulled him before Ardra.

“Now the true apology will be made. Say the words, Samoht,
or I will reveal a secret I am sure Einalem would rather remained hidden
forever—something we both know need not come before the council.”

Samoht jerked his arm from Ralen’s and staggered back,
rubbing his palm on his leg. The two men stared at each other. Ardra felt the
heat and hatred streaming off Samoht as tangibly as if she could see it.

“Ardra,” Samoht finally said. “Accept my apology.” He turned
and left the chamber, shutting the door with a bang.

“I would have killed him.” She brought her hand forward from
the folds of her skirt. In it was her dagger. With some difficulty, for her
hand was shaking, she sheathed the knife.

Ralen took her hand. “I am heartily grateful to Lien that he
interrupted. I need not tell you of the coil of trouble you would be in if you
killed a councilor.” He smiled. “Though I would have done the same in your
place. I am sorry for Samoht’s behavior, but I would not count on my threats
keeping him in line. He is used to taking what he wishes.” He lifted her hand
to his lips.

The door opened. Lien stood in the threshold behind Deleh.

Ralen kissed her hand and then her forehead. “All will be
well,” he said and left the room.

Lien sat with his back to the wall outside Ardra’s chamber.
He clasped his hands around his knees, his stick across his lap.

He wanted a piece of old Sam. One part of him wanted a piece
of Ralen, too. It pissed him off that Ralen had been the one to play the
shining white knight. It pissed him off that he couldn’t call the local sheriff
and have Sam hauled off to jail for attempted rape.

Sam was the local sheriff, and Ralen his deputy.

The deputy was kissing the damsel in distress.

Damn.

Lien’s rash pissed him off, too. It flared up when he was
close to Cidre and simmered right down when Ardra touched him.

He shifted his shoulders against the rough stone wall. Ardra
raised another itch he badly wanted scratched.

Deleh shuffled up the steps and into Ardra’s room. The
majestic concubine had deteriorated into an anxious old woman.

Ollach arrived. Lien nodded to him, and when Ollach knocked,
Lien stood up. He walked in on Ollach’s heels. He wanted company when he dealt
with Ardra. A witness, so to speak.

Deleh began to comb out Ardra’s hair. Lien found himself
watching the motion of the comb. Her hair looked like a sheet of gold cloth.
What was wrong with him? It was just hair.

“I have something to say, Ardra, and I’d like Ollach to hear
it,” he said.

She curtseyed.

He unloaded. “You are not to walk around this fortress
alone, do you understand?”

“I can take care of myself.” She brandished her eating
dagger. Deleh gasped.

Lien merely lifted a dark brow, but he did not speak words
of contempt for her boast. “A knife isn’t the answer,” he said. “Caution is. Do
you understand?”

Ardra nodded. Lien was right. Had she been cautious, Samoht
would not have caught her alone. And he never would again.

“A nod’s not good enough. Say it.”

With a sigh, Ardra complied, though she chose her words
carefully so what she said was not a lie. “I will not walk around this fortress
alone.”

“You will not be in this room or any other without a
bodyguard. And one of Samoht’s Red Rose Warriors will not do.”

“I understand what you are saying.”

He jerked his thumb at Ollach. “Do you get it, too?”

Ollach bit his lip and shifted from one foot to the other,
but nodded vigorously. Ardra imagined the poor man thought he must accompany
her to the privy.

“Okay. Now, there’s a feast downstairs. I’m sure you’d
rather stay here, Ardra, but you’re going. Stay where you can be seen—and as
far from Samoht as possible.”

He grabbed Ollach by the tunic. “You stick with her through
the whole thing, understand? I don’t care if old Sam pays your salary or not.
You stick with her.”

“As you wish,” Ollach said, and Ardra wondered if he
realized he was accepting a command from a pilgrim.

Ardra took a deep breath. “I am sure Ollach only understood
half the words you said—”

“Mistress! I can understand his meaning. I am to protect
you. Am I right?” Ollach looked at Lien, his eyebrows up, his hand on his sword
hilt.

“You’ve got it. Now wait outside.” Lien pointed at the door.

“You will both wait outside. I must change for the feast.”
Ardra tried to pretend she had no cares. She spoke as coldly as possible. She
must distance herself from Lien. If she truly wished to prove herself able, she
must take care of herself.

“You look fine in that, and we have to talk,” Lien said.

She looked down at the rumpled gown. There were barely
perceptible marks from her tears. Lien would not notice them, but a woman
would. “I will not go to the feast in this gown.”

Ollach tugged on Lien’s arm. “Come. Women must have their
way in some things. We will wait out here.”

Ardra threw her shoe at the door after it closed. “Women
must have their way in some things. I hope their swords go soft.”