Butterfly Swords (4 page)

Heaven and earth.
She hadn’t been kissing him at all. The thin ribbon of resistance uncoiled within her as he took control of the kiss. His stubble scraped against her mouth, raking a raw path of sensation through her. She could do nothing but melt against him, clutching the front of his tunic to stay on her feet.

A delicious heat radiated from him. His hands sank low against the small of her back to draw her close as he teased her mouth open. His breath mingled with hers for one anguished second before his tongue slipped past her lips to taste her in a slow, indulgent caress. A sigh of surrender escaped from her lips, a sound she hadn’t imagined she was capable of uttering.

His hands slipped from her abruptly and she opened her eyes to see his gaze fixed on her.

‘Well,’ he breathed, ‘you do honour your bets.’

Though he no longer touched her, it was as if the kiss hadn’t ended. He was still so close, filling every sense and thought. She stumbled as she tried to step away and he caught her, a knowing smile playing over his mouth. Her balance was impeccable. She never lost her footing like that, just standing there. His grip tightened briefly before he let her go. Even that tiny, innocent touch filled her with renewed longing.

In a daze, she bent to pick up her fallen swords. Her pulse throbbed as if she had run a
li
without stopping. In her head she was still running, flying fast.

‘Now that our bargain is settled…’ she began hoarsely ‘…we should be going.’

To her horror her hands would not stop shaking. Brushing past him, she gathered up her knapsack and slung it over her shoulder. ‘You said the next town was hours from here?’

He collected his sword while a slow grin spread over his face. She couldn’t look at him without conjuring the feel and the taste of him. Head down, she ploughed through the tall grass.

‘A good match,’ she attempted.

He caught up to her easily with his long stride. ‘Yes, quite good,’ he replied, the tone rife with meaning.

Her cheeks burned hot as she forced her gaze on the road ahead. She could barely tell day from night, couldn’t give her own name if asked.

She had to get home and denounce Li Tao. Warn her father. She had thought of nothing else since her escape, until this blue-eyed barbarian had appeared. It was fortunate they were parting when they reached town. When he wasn’t looking she pressed her fingers over her lips, which were still swollen from that first kiss.

She was outmatched, much more outmatched than when they had crossed swords.

I
t was supposed to be one little kiss. The sort of meaningless flirtation he’d engaged in many times over. She would slap him afterwards, as he deserved, but it would be worth it. He hadn’t counted on his hunger at the first taste of her. Or her willing response.

Too sweet for words.

Ailey forged ahead, bundling up her thick braid to shove it under her cap. She could chop off all her hair and dress in rags—she would still heat his blood to a boil. Her hands trembled faintly and the scoundrel in him couldn’t help gloat at the sign that she was just as affected.

He hooked his thumbs into his sword belt as a reminder to keep his hands where they belonged. Conversation came slowly in fits and starts as they walked along the stretch of open road. They stopped after an hour on foot, resting beneath the shade at the side of the road.

He nodded towards the bruise forming at her wrist. ‘Sorry for that.’

‘You hit hard,’ she said, not really complaining. She rubbed at the spot before pulling her sleeve over it.

‘You were coming at me like you meant it.’

He let his gaze wander over her face as she took a drink from the waterskin. This girl wielded swords like an avenging angel, then kissed him with her eyes clamped shut. Yet her mouth had moved against his with the same bold instinct with which she fought.

Heat flooded his body anew. He forced himself to ignore it. ‘How long have you been training with those swords?’

‘Since I was a child. We would spar in the training yard.’

‘You and your brothers?’

‘And the soldiers in training.’

Sword-fighting. The topic was neutral enough. There was a forced casualness in her tone and she avoided his eyes as they started on their way again, but he caught how she passed the tip of her tongue over her lips and pressed them together, as if to recapture the fleeing sensation.

Kissing Ailey had been a mistake. A gloriously wonderful mistake.

‘Suddenly the boys stopped fighting seriously,’ she went on. ‘Instead they would tease me, acting like monkeys.’

‘They must have realised one day that you were a girl.’

And enticing enough to make any boy act the fool. Or any man, for that matter. He tried to imagine where she had come from, the well-bred daughter of a military official who studied how to fight instead of embroidery or whatever it was women typically learned.

‘Your master taught you well.’ She was still avoiding his gaze, but otherwise managed to fall into an easy stride beside him. Her long legs carried her effortlessly.

‘I have no master,’ he replied.

‘But someone must have trained you. Your father, then?’

He stiffened. This talk of family was even more alien to him than this exotic land. ‘I suppose I learned a few things from him.’

His father’s brand of training had consisted of surviving one skirmish after another as they wandered endlessly through the countryside. That had changed when he joined up with Adrian’s men as they fought off raiders at the borders of their homeland. He had duties, men he could rely on and who relied on him. But now he was alone again with nothing but his sword and, for the moment, one very curious girl.

‘Your father must be very honoured by your skill.’

Ailey’s courteous flattery grated on him.

‘If he were alive.’

She fell silent at the brusqueness of his reply and her expression took on that tranquil, inward quality. Probably reflecting on ill-mannered barbarians who knew nothing about honour or polite conversation.

‘There’s the town,’ he said, looking into the distance.

Her mouth pressed into a thin line as she stared at the faint outline. ‘I can go on my own from here.’

Time had slipped by quickly. The rush of the morning’s battle and the all-too-brief kiss afterwards had faded away. It was probably better for her if he did leave, but he could at least escort her safely into town as he’d promised.

‘I’ll take you,’ he said.

‘Won’t it be dangerous for you?’

‘No more dangerous than the rest of the empire.’

He hadn’t known how much he missed having someone to speak to. Even if she did ask too many questions about things he didn’t want to be reminded of. But he couldn’t drag his feet any longer. It had taken over a month for him to recover enough to make this journey and there were many obstacles to cross between here and the frontier.

Within the hour, the road led them to the town gates. It was decently sized for a rural city. The streets were paved with stone and wooden buildings rose two floors high, stacked closely together. Even in the simplest of towns, Ryam could see the empire’s wealth. Nothing like the scattered settlements of his homeland.

The main avenue fed into a central market lined with shops. Merchants displayed baskets of fruit and vats of crayfish, along with a collection of handmade wares along the street. Ryam hunched his shoulders and dragged his hood over his head, trying to disappear into the crowd. The townsfolk stopped haggling to stare as he passed. It was impossible to disappear into a crowd when he stood head and shoulders above the average man.

‘Perhaps there is a shipment here headed for Changan,’ Ailey continued, oblivious to how the crowd parted in their wake.

A wooden ball bounced onto the cobbled street and rolled in front of them. A young boy scrambled forwards and crouched at Ryam’s feet with his little fingers clutched around the toy. Suddenly, the boy noticed the hulking shadow over him and craned his neck upwards, mouth agape.

At that, Ryam pulled Ailey into the narrow gap between the shops. The hum of the market crowd continued around them.

‘We can’t just go wandering the streets,’ he hissed. ‘What are you planning to do?’

‘Hire someone to take me home.’

Because he wouldn’t. ‘And if there’s no one?’

‘Then I go alone.’

‘You can’t.’

What would she do? Hire a band of mercenaries who would ignore the fact that she was worth a lot more than that bag of coins she carried?

‘Your father is obviously a powerful man. There must be someone here who can help you.’

‘You don’t understand.’ The mention of her father made her shoulders draw tight. A wisp of hair escaped from the cap to tease around the curve of one ear. She tucked it back impatiently. ‘I cannot trust the city officials. Not in this province.’

What in God’s name was she involved in? ‘Then find a way to send a message to your father or…I don’t know. Think of something better than roaming the countryside with your swords.’

‘Why are you so concerned now?’

‘I went through a lot of trouble to save you.’ It was the best he could muster. Leaving her was the only rational decision, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not when she was looking at him like that.

‘I need to find a stable. The journey will take too long on foot.’ She nodded slowly as if to convince herself. ‘It can’t be too far to the capital.’

‘You don’t even know, do you?’

She ignored him to peer around the corner of the building.

‘Tell me who you’re hiding from,’ he demanded.

It took an effort for her to meet his eyes. ‘There are powerful men plotting against my father. Against the empire.’

With that perfectly vague explanation, she slipped past him to move down the alley, away from the marketplace. He didn’t know what would be worse for her, being seen with him or being caught alone by whoever she was running from. They twisted through the city, skirting along dank lanes of grey brick while the ripe smell of rotting cabbage assailed them. Ailey continued unperturbed as a rat scurried across her path. Its long tail disappeared into a corner.

The stables were located near the outskirts of town across the canal. He was forced to wait outside while he listened to Ailey’s voice through the doorway. She was talking numbers with the stableman.

Guilt gnawed a hole in his stomach as he listened to her. God’s crooked nose. He knew what it was like to be alone and fending for himself, but she didn’t. Ailey came from a wealthy family where she was cared for and protected. When she emerged from the stable, her look of triumph made him feel even worse.

‘I purchased two horses,’ she said. ‘They will be ready to ride by morning.’

‘Two?’

‘How else will you get home?’

‘You shouldn’t have.’

She avoided his gaze, embarrassed. ‘You have a long journey as well. Consider it payment of my debt to you for rescuing me.’

‘There is no debt.’

The flush of her cheeks reminded him immediately of their strange morning and the surprising fierceness of their match followed by her lips pressed softly to his. Bold and demure all at once.

Ailey had a generous soul at the heart of her. He, on the other hand, was the sort who could ruthlessly kiss a woman until she was melting against him and then abandon her hours later to the treacherous countryside.

‘What did you tell him?’ he asked.

‘I told him I was a nobleman’s son.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘You do not look like a man.’

‘He believed my story,’ she insisted, chin raised. ‘Now we must find a place for the night.’

She turned to the tangle of streets behind them. With a deep breath, she plunged back into the maze. He was certain she didn’t feel any safer in this city than he did. At the next juncture the alleyways branched out like crooked fingers. Ailey looked from one to the other, lost. He indicated the correct direction with a flick of his hand.

‘There’s a good reason I can’t go with you,’ he said.

She kept her attention focused straight ahead. ‘You’ve already told me.’

‘I’m more likely to get us both killed than return you home safely.’

‘I’m not completely helpless.’ Plenty of pride in her. Her back stiffened with it. ‘I’ll be safe enough once I’m out of this province.’

‘Just be careful.’

At the next corner, she halted so quickly he came up nearly against her heels. A crowd gathered around a group of soldiers wearing black and red uniforms. A crier dressed in embroidered state robes read from a scroll.

He could only make out bits of it. ‘What are they saying?’

‘It is a proclamation by Li Tao.’

‘Who’s Li Tao?’

‘We have to go.’ She shrank away from the street, but he blocked her path.

‘You need to tell me what’s going on. Now.’

She caught her bottom lip with her teeth, her face pale as she looked up at him. ‘Li Tao is the man I was supposed to marry.’

‘Marry? You’re running away from your husband?’

‘He is
not
my husband.’

‘What was all that nonsense about a plot against the empire?’ He had kissed her breathless and she belonged to another man. That stung more than it had a right to.

Ailey froze as a sharp command rang from the plaza. It echoed against the stone walls of the alleyway.

‘The soldiers are searching the streets,’ she whispered frantically.

He ushered her away from the square as fast as he could without breaking into a suspicious run. They wove past crates and debris that littered the alleyway. A window on an upper floor had been propped open. He stacked several crates on top of one another and offered his hand.

‘Hurry. Go on up.’

She hooked her foot on to the corner of the pile and started climbing, grabbing on to the ledge. He watched, momentarily distracted, as she wriggled her slender hips through the opening.

Focus, man.
After a final sweep of the alley, he hoisted himself up the rickety tower and kicked the crates over before pulling through the window.

The window led into a storeroom. An earthy, medicinal scent permeated the air and the low ceiling just allowed him to stand upright. He peered into the darkness and made out several woven baskets piled high with dried herbs and roots.

Ailey’s voice came from the far end of the room. ‘Behind the ginseng.’

‘Which one is that?’

A pale hand waved from the corner. He picked his way through the baskets and crouched beside her against the wall.

‘You need to tell me the truth, Ailey.’

She let out a breath and her fingers worked the edge of her tunic nervously. ‘It was an arranged marriage.’

‘So all of this is because you don’t want to marry this man?’

Her gaze shot up to him. ‘During the wedding procession, I discovered Li Tao betrayed our family. I hired mercenaries to attack the wedding procession so it would look as if I were abducted.’

Somehow he believed her. He already knew she couldn’t tell a convincing lie.

‘This Li Tao must be a powerful man if he can send soldiers to scour the countryside for you.’

‘He is
jiedushi
of this province.’

Ryam let his head thud back against the wall. The military governor. These warlords had complete power over the armies and laws of their circuits. He had to admire her spirit even though no good could come of it.

‘That’s why you can’t go to anyone for help.’

She sank her chin onto her knees in an uncharacteristically childish gesture. ‘I never intended to put you in so much danger.’

‘Do you know what this looks like to anyone who finds us? The governor’s wife and a barbarian.’

‘I told you, I am not his wife.’

He continued, undaunted. ‘They’ll hang me, but that is nothing compared to what they will do to you.’

‘My family did not raise their daughter to live in fear.’

The rafters creaked, hushing them into tense silence as muffled voices rose from below. They crouched, listening and waiting.

‘I cannot let them find me,’ she whispered once the voices quieted. ‘Li Tao will force me to marry him. He only wants this marriage to gain my father’s trust.’

As much as she tried to hide it, he could tell she was frightened. In the empire, a woman was first her father’s property and then her husband’s. She was defying both of them.

‘We’ll stay here awhile. Wait them out,’ he said. ‘The soldiers will move on in a couple of hours.’

‘What then?’

A sense of foreboding settled over him like a shroud. She was looking to him for answers. The last time anyone had trusted his lead, it had ended in bloodshed. His head throbbed with phantom pain as he recalled the last moments of the skirmish. Imperial soldiers had swarmed over their caravan, overpowering them. A better man could have stopped it.