22 Nights (17 page)

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Authors: Linda Winstead Jones

BOOK: 22 Nights
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We must have him
.
Bela stumbled, and her heart stuttered in time with her clumsy feet. Kitty was so doggedly insistent!
Merin slowed down and offered her a hand, thinking she’d lost her balance on this steep and rocky slope. She took that hand and regained her balance, mumbling softly spoken thanks as she held on to his strong hand longer than was necessary. Up ahead there was a less steep and greener section of the mountain, where they could travel less strenuously and refill their waterskins before moving onto a harsher path once again, but for now the path was arduous.
Bela had chosen not to pursue a traditional female role. She had chosen to learn to fight and ride and hunt and dress as a man would. She wasn’t sorry for the choices she’d made; they had been her choices. This unconventional life was hers by design. What if Merin desired to take a wife like Jocylen and the other young women of the village? What if he wanted a sweet and gentle woman who would wait for him endlessly, preparing his meals and mending his clothes and offering her body when he wished it and giving him a baby every year? That was not the life Bela had chosen. She could not be that woman! Could she change for a man? Did she want to?
Would he take her as she was, different and occasionally difficult and often mule-headed?
Like Merin, Bela herself was sometimes stubborn to a fault. “I am who I am,” she whispered.
“What did you say?” Merin reached a small plateau and turned to face her. Behind him to the right, the rocky face of the mountain loomed. To the left, the gentler tree line was thick and green and alive. Her husband looked right and proper there, a part of this land he did not call his own, but he was not Turi. He would never call this land she loved home.
If through some bizarre circumstance he fell in love with her, he’d probably expect her to return with him to Arthes, where she would fit in even less well than she did here. She could not be a wife of the court. She could not live a palace life, restrained and proper, a general’s bride.
There was no need to worry, as he had not asked her to, and certainly would not.
“Nothing,” she responded. “I said nothing at all.”
 
TRINITY
scanned the ground around the cave, noting the dust and pebbles which had been disturbed. It was now midday, the sun hanging high in the sky. He knew that his prey had slept here last night. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes to sharpen his keen sense of smell. There were two of them, one man and one woman, and they had left early this morning, headed east.
He led Gano and had for some time, now, not expecting the fine, loyal animal to carry his weight on this hill which some might call a mountain. Since those he sought were on foot, walking was not a disadvantage, and in truth he was not in a hurry. He had all the time in the world.
Still, Trinity was a little surprised that the two had eluded him for so long. He’d expected to find them last night and end this job, but they had traveled in a bit of a circle, making illogical choices and leading him around and around. Were they that smart, or did they travel so in-consistently and oddly because they were lost and afraid? Lost and afraid was more likely than smart.
They had no food, so he expected that when they’d left this cave, they’d headed in a direction that would take them to the nearest town or house. There were a few settlers on the other side of the hill, he knew from his travels. He would certainly find those he sought there. It would be a shame to kill them too quickly, especially as they had proven to be more fun than he’d imagined they would.
The woman was probably pretty, as she was being considered as a potential empress. Trinity hadn’t been with a pretty woman for a long time, and he did not think he had ever lain with a real lady. Maybe he could separate those he sought and kill the man, then devise a plan to present himself as the woman’s protector. As a lady she would need one, he imagined. Had she seen him from her coach before she’d run? A disguise of sorts might be necessary, just in case. He could pretend to be someone else for a while; he had done so before. Maybe he could even seduce her. He was a generous lover. She would die happy.
Trinity bent down and placed his head in the cave where his prey had slept last night. Again, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The scent that filled him was heady and sweet and unique. Yes, he would know Lady Leyla when he found her.
LEYLA’S
legs ached from the constant walking, but she did not ask Savyn to slow down or to carry her again. She did hold his hand, as much for comfort as for assistance. He steadied her. He had steadied her for the past two years, just not quite so literally.
The sight of the thatched-roof house in the distance was so welcome she almost cried out in joy. Smoke rose from the stone chimney, and well-tended farmland surrounded the small house. Leyla’s step increased in spite of the pain, but before she’d gone very far, Savyn stopped her. He planted his feet and drew her back so she stood close by his side.
“Why have you stopped?” she asked, anxious for shelter, food, rest, and the sight of people who did not wish to kill her.
“I’m going to find a safe place for you to wait while I go to the farmhouse and ask for food.”
“No!” She did not want to be alone . . . and she saw no reason why she couldn’t go with him.
Savyn reached out and placed both hands on her cheeks, and he gazed down at her with intense eyes she knew too well. She noticed, as she had that very morning, that his beard was coming in, rough and untended. He was usually so well-kept and clean, so meticulously pretty. Not today. He was also always willing to listen to her commands. Again, not today. He was determined and commanding, unwilling to offer her all that she wanted. “We do not know what might await us there, My Lady. The man who ambushed our party might’ve visited this farm. He might still be there, waiting for us.”
Leyla’s heart leaped at the idea. “Then you should not go there either,” she said insistently. “If it’s not safe for me, then it’s not safe for you.”
He gave her an impossible smile. “My life is of no consequence, but I will not allow anything to happen to you, My . . . Leyla.” He stumbled over the words, as he started to call her My Lady once more and then remembered her request. In the past he had often called her My Leyla, and as he said the words, a kind of dulled recognition flitted into his eyes and then was gone.
Savyn dropped his hands as if he had finally realized the impropriety of the intimate gesture. “I will find a comfortable and safe spot for you to wait, and I will go to the farmhouse and beg for food. I believe I can pass for a beggar on this day.”
Leyla studied her ragged, dirty dress. She could only imagine what her always unmanageable hair looked like. “So could I.”
Savyn shook his head and smiled gently. “Never.”
She felt a rush of anger and fear. “If the man who seeks us is there, waiting, and you don’t come back, what am I supposed to do?”
“You run,” Savyn said softly. “Run, and don’t look back. Hide. Steal. Beg if you must. Don’t let him find you, no matter what. You have a gift. Don’t be afraid to use it.”
“I rarely use my gift,” she said, “and when I do, I must be close enough to touch. That isn’t always possible.”
“If I don’t come back . . .”
Leyla grabbed his hand and held on tight. “You will come back to me,” she insisted. “You must.” She looked into his eyes, and her heart broke for what she’d given up and could never reclaim. If she’d believed love was enough, she never would’ve made him forget what they’d had. It had been selfish of her to believe that they could have even a small bit of what they wanted without pain. “I need you, Savyn.” He could never know how much meaning those words had for her.
Savyn instinctively leaned forward, as if moving to her for a kiss, but he stopped himself long before their lips met. He looked confused for a moment, and then he glanced away from her and began to study their surroundings. “That thick group of trees over there will offer you shelter and cover,” he said, trying to be stoic but revealing too much with the emotion in his voice. Somehow, some way, he had suffered a flash of memory he should not,
could not
, have.
As they headed toward the place where Savyn intended to leave her, he did not take her hand.
Chapter Eight
MERIN
had not bothered to pack a small tent, and on this first night on Forbidden Mountain he had not even sought out a small cave for shelter. The night was mild. Erecting even the most primitive shelter would take time they did not have, and besides, he did not mind sleeping beneath the clear skies. They each carried a small blanket to cover the ground, and that would suffice.
He had built a fire just before darkness fell, using fallen limbs, dried brush, and the flint and steel he carried in his pack. Their food—which for the duration of this journey would consist of oatcake and a goodly supply of a mix of oats, dried fruits, and nuts—did not need to be warmed, and apparently there were no animals on the mountain, so predatory cats would not be a problem. Still, the fire did offer them some comfort. He suspected they would need the fire more tomorrow and the next night, as they moved higher, where the air would be cooler this time of year. Perhaps they would even have to search for shelter, but he hoped not. He did not want to take the time for even the smallest of comforts.
Traveling would’ve been much easier if he and Bela had untied the rope that bound them and stored it in one of the packs, as long as they were out of sight of the village. But they had given their word before leaving. Bela’s father and the seer, Fiers, had both insisted. Merin had known more than one wizard in his lifetime, and he suspected the Turi seer would know if they did not keep their promise. The little old man possessed a goodly amount of power. Besides, Merin did not break his word, certainly not to make his own days easier.
And yes, being apart from Bela would make his life much easier.
Tonight something was wrong with his
wife
. Something was always wrong with her, but tonight there was something new. He could feel it and he could see it on her face, a face he was coming to know so well. She was bothered by something, and she was not telling him what or why. Usually she was quite comfortable when it came to voicing her complaints, but tonight she kept secrets, as she had all day.
Maybe she was afraid he would wish to resume their physical interactions, now that they were once again alone. He could put her fears to rest where that was concerned.
While Merin was certainly not averse to the pleasures of a woman’s hands or her mouth, he knew he would not be satisfied with anything less than everything where Bela was concerned. Everything; all of her. If they touched as a man and wife might, he would end up inside her and then they would never be unwed. They’d make a baby, if not tonight, then in the nights to come, and if there was a child of the union, they would be forever married, at least under Turi law.
He studied her pensive face, which was striking with the flickering fire to illuminate the features. When had she become beautiful? When had the sight of that face begun to make his stomach and his heart clench?
“I expect nothing of you,” he said sharply and without emotion.
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“What began in the creek before Nobel’s arrival, I do not expect you to finish it. Now that I’m thinking clearly, I realize such a physical liaison would not be wise, not for us.”
She studied him for a moment, and though he studied her closely, he could not tell what she was thinking. Was she relieved or insulted? Usually Bela’s emotions were very clear on her face, but at the moment she was unreadable.
“Does that mean you have no interest in touching me as you once did?”
No interest
was not the right phrase, but it would do. “That is correct.”
“Pity,” she said softly. “Now that you have enlightened me, I find myself rather intrigued by the physical interactions of a man and a woman.”
Her words cut through him and seemed to grab at his insides, deep and with surprising strength. He tried to ignore that grabbing. “When we are no longer wed, other men can intrigue you.”
She was silent for a moment, and then she said, “I don’t think so.”
Merin felt a surge of anger. He did not want Bela to be afraid of men. That’s why he’d tortured himself to show her the truth of sex properly—if only partially—done. “It would be preposterous for you to live without such physical pleasures. If you don’t want children, there are precautions which can be taken, with time and planning. There’s no need for you to take a husband if that is your concern . . .”
“Do you think I am a loose woman who will search for such pleasures with just anyone?” Her voice rose slightly and reverberated among the rocks.
Apparently he could say nothing right tonight. “I did not say . . .”

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