Epic Of Palins 01 - Dagger Star (23 page)

Confused, Josiah knelt, and helped her with the other boot. They’d hunted? Hadn’t they slept together?

Red shook her head. “Then nothing would satisfy him but a feast. With said deer and boar and pigeons on the table, mind. Overrich for my taste.”

Josiah looked up at her. “Fael never did anything by half measures.”

Red grimaced. “I guess not.”

“It was a test, then?”

“If so, I measured up.” Red wiggled her bare toes against the wood floor. “Next time, I think I’ll put gloves on Bethral and send her. She’d lay him flat, no trouble at all.”

Josiah opened his mouth, but there was a knock at the door.

Evie came in, a mug in her hand. “I’ve brought a few things to help you.”

“What, no prayers?” Red asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Healing’s of little help with tiredness,” Evie replied smartly. “Besides, who’s the one that doesn’t like ‘priestly’ things?”

Red yawned. “True enough, Priestess.”

“Here’s a tea that will help with the aches.” Evie pressed the mug into Red’s hand. “Don’t complain about the taste. Just drink it.”

Red eyed the mug with resignation. “It’s going to taste like horse piss, isn’t it?”

“You don’t have to drink it,” Evie said with a sweet smile. “Feel free to hurt all night, if you wish.”

Red wrinkled her nose, and emptied the mug in four swift swallows.

Evie produced a small jar from her robes. “Here’s a balm for sore muscles.” She handed it to Josiah.

“Is there enough for my whole body?” Red handed her the empty mug.

Evie gave her a sympathetic look. “And it doesn’t help that you slept on the floor of my room last night.”

Josiah jerked his head around to stare at them.

Red was looking at the jar, and didn’t notice. But Evie was looking right at him, with a soft smile on her face. Josiah’s eyes went wide as he realized what she was trying to tell him.

Red looked up, and caught the exchange. Josiah opened his mouth, but Red looked away and growled at Evie, “You snore, by the way.”

Evie gave her an arch look. “If I do, I am sure it’s quite attractive and ladylike.”

Red snorted.

“But yours aren’t.” Evie smirked, and twirled away, her robes twisting around her as she disappeared out the door.

Red glared at Josiah as he stifled his chuckles. “I don’t snore.”

“Not that I’ve noticed.” He set the balm aside. “You didn’t sleep with Fael?”

Red looked at him for a moment, then looked away, reaching for the straps of her armor. “I didn’t.”

“He asked?”

“He did.” Red scowled at him. “But I refused him. Just part of our agreement, goatherder. Now, are you going to help me with this, or not?”

With a sense of relief, Josiah moved closer and reached out. “Let me.”

It took time to get Red out of her armor, and by the time the last piece was carefully set aside, her yawns were making her jaw crack. Josiah pulled back the blankets, and eased her onto the bed, face down.

Red sighed, her body seeming to melt into the bed. She said something that was muffled by the pillow.

Josiah reached for the balm, and dipped his finger in, letting it warm in his palm before spreading it on Red’s shoulders. He kneaded it into her skin with soft strokes.

Red moaned, shifting slightly.

“Easy,” Josiah whispered, “let me do this for you.”

Red settled then, and he continued to work the balm into her back and shoulders. He lost track of time as his hands glided over her body.

She blinked sleepily at him when he’d finished. He leaned down, letting his lips brush against her. “You were teasing me, Mercenary.”

Red gave him a puzzled look. “It really would have bothered you, wouldn’t it?”

Josiah nodded, and reached out to stroke her hair. “Why didn’t you sleep with him, Red?”

She gave him a rare soft smile and whispered her answer. “He didn’t smell of marjoram.”

Josiah knelt there, staring at her, but Red had closed her eyes and drifted off. He urged her to turn over so that he could finish his work. Red did, but it was clear that she’d lost her fight with sleep. He made quick work of the rest, until the jar was empty and the fire had burned down.

He stripped then, and crawled in next to her, pulling the blankets up to cover both of them. Red shifted into his arms, and buried her face in his neck.

Josiah smiled. “Sleep well, kitten.”

She snuffled against his skin. Not quite a purr…

Josiah chuckled, closed his eyes, and let her deep breathing lull him to sleep.

THE noises of the camp awoke Red in the morning.

She blinked, letting her awareness grow slowly. It seemed fairly late, from the light. Josiah lay next to her, on his side, his hand covering her belly.

Red turned her head just enough that she could look at him. Those lines were eased in sleep. He looked younger, so handsome. His curls were unruly and getting long.

Why had she teased him? Red frowned, considering. To see his response, if she were honest with herself. She’d never done that with a bed partner before. Never done any of this before, this intimacy. Sharing a bed like this. She’d always taken her pleasure and moved on.

It was…comfortable.

Red stretched, pleased to find that she wasn’t nearly as sore as she’d expected. Worth the taste of the tea. She grimaced as the taste in her mouth brought back the brew.

She slipped from the bed with regret, and managed it without waking Josiah. Pity there wasn’t time for a bit of fun this morning. But the day was wasting, and she needed to be about it.

She pulled on a tunic and trous. She’d see about food first, for both of them. Bring it back here and wake Josiah. She smiled to herself at the outline of his ass under the linens. Perhaps they could make time for a bit of—

A cry jerked her head around, and she reached for her sword.

“A portal! A portal’s opening!”

TWENTY-ONE

RED left at a run, sword in hand, headed for the area between the barn and the well. Warriors were there, facing a slight glow and the winds that seemed to come out of nowhere whenever a portal was opened. Evelyn explained that it was the air from two different places moving within the portal.

Red was grateful for the warning.

Her men held position as she ran to stand in front of them. A glance told her that her crossbow men were in position on the barn roof, as ordered. She could hear the others gathering, and questions called out behind her, but she ignored them. The portal was her focus.

A brief flare of light, and then it was before them, the familiar white curtains moving in the air.

Red pulled her sword. They’d be met with open blade and a snarl.

Two men emerged from the portal, in armor but their weapons sheathed. They wore tabards that Red didn’t recognize. Each stepped to one side, eyeing Red warily.

Red opened her mouth to demand answers, when another person stepped through. A young woman, almost stumbling, dressed in a green silken thing that showed more than it concealed.

There were baubles, too: necklaces and rings and bracelets that clinked as she moved. Her long brown hair was in disarray, and her eyes were bleary. Red knew that look all too well. It spoke of a long night in the bottle. More than one bottle.

“You!” The woman tried to focus on Red. “You’re the bitch!”

Red narrowed her eyes.

The woman stomped forward, to push her face into Red’s. Her breath was almost a weapon in and of itself.

“You’re the one,” she hissed. “You’re the whore—”

Red hit her. Her gloved fist smacked the woman right on the chin.

The woman collapsed into a heap, the portal closing at the same time.

The two warriors stepped forward, reaching for their swords. Red snarled, “Who is this fool woman?”

The answer came from behind her. Ezren was leaning against the barn door, wrapped in a blanket. “The Lady Helene, High Baroness of Wyethe.”

In the stillness, Red looked over her shoulder, and raised an eyebrow.

Evelyn and Josiah were standing there. They both nodded in confirmation. Josiah looked concerned, but Evelyn had a look of disdain on her face.

Red turned back to look at the woman at her feet. “Oh.” She lowered her sword. “See to her, then.”

She walked back to where Josiah stood. Evelyn was taking charge, as the warriors lifted the unconscious woman from the ground.

“Invite her to breakfast,” Red called over her shoulder. She turned back to Josiah and gave him a smile. “Wanna go back to bed?”

Josiah was looking over her shoulder, where retching sounds could be heard. “It might be a while before your ‘guest’ can join you at the table.”

Red reached out and took his hand, tugging him toward their tent. “All the better, then.”

JOSIAH hadn’t known that Red could be so deliberately cruel. Her plate was swimming with half-cooked eggs and fried turnips, and she ate with obvious enjoyment.

The others had joined in the meal, making room for the High Baroness at the table. Helene was hunched over, her head in her hand, trying to avoid looking at Red. The poor girl had a mug of kavage in her hand, and a sick look on her face.

“Some dry bread would help,” Evelyn said softly.

Red talked around her food. “Can’t you just…” She waved her bread in the air, a bit of egg dripping onto the table.

Helene swallowed hard.

Evelyn gave Red a knowing look. “I took care of the bruise, but there’s not much I can do for the rest.” She looked at Helene. “I certainly can’t cure stupid.”

Helene winced.

“If only you could.” Red stuffed her bread into her mouth and swallowed as she reached for another piece.

Josiah frowned. He remembered a lithe little girl, heir to Wyethe, delighting in her studies of magic. But this Helene was sullen, embarrassed, and avoiding everyone’s eyes, including Evie’s.

Clearly something had happened between Helene and Evelyn in the last five years.

And clearly Red had picked up on that. She was observing everyone closely as she waved her fork about. Josiah watched her take it all in. There were undertones here, and she was trying to figure it out without asking a question.

Swimming in uncertain currents, was his kitten—

Josiah cut that thought right off. His kitten? He had no right to so much as think that. “Part of the agreement” was all that she’d said. He’d best remember that for the future.

Of course, she’d also mentioned marjoram.

Confused, Josiah leaned forward to take some more bread. Helene’s eyes flashed in his direction and her sullen look deepened. “Why didn’t anyone tell me that Josiah was alive?”

“It was too dangerous,” Evie replied. “I couldn’t risk it.”

“I can keep a secret,” Helene snapped. She looked like a resentful child who hadn’t been invited to a party.

Evie turned her head slowly, and gave Helene a disapproving look. She raised an eyebrow.

Helene blushed scarlet, and dropped her gaze to the table. “I should just go,” she muttered.

“No,” Red said. “There are things we need to discuss.”

One of the Guardians stepped forward, lifting his hand to rest it on the back of Helene’s chair.

Josiah wasn’t certain, but it looked like his fingers brushed Helene’s shoulder. “Leave her be.”

Red looked up in surprise.

“I am Wolfe, Chief Guardian of Wyethe,” he continued. “The High Baroness overreacted to some gossip that she heard, that is all.”

That had Red’s attention. She leaned forward. “What did she hear?”

“You slept with him,” Helene spat. “You claim to be Chosen, and you—”

“Who? Fael?” Red asked. “Who told you that?”

“I have my sources.” Helene lifted her chin. “You slept with him to gain—”

“I didn’t,” Red said.

Helene caught her breath.

“She didn’t,” Evelyn said. “She slept with me that night.”

Helene’s head whipped around, her eyes wide.

Evie rolled her eyes. “On the floor of my room, you stupid girl.”

“But,” Helene sputtered, “but he sleeps with everyone…everyone.” Her eyes welled with tears.

“Everyone but me.”

Red looked at Evie.

“She was betrothed to Fael,” Evelyn explained.

“But he broke the agreement.” Helene started to sob. “He—”

Red rolled her eyes.

Ezren leaned forward, and reached out to hand Helene a cloth. “Wipe your eyes, Lady.”

“Ezren Storyteller.” Helene blinked through her tears. “What happened to your voice?”

“Many things have happened in the last five years, Lady,” Ezren said with a sad smile.

“But what is past is past.” Red shoved her plate back. “We all must deal with what is, not what we wish it to be. Pain must be faced.”

“And the answer is not at the bottom of a bottle,” Evelyn added.

“What do you know of pain?” Helene lashed out, tears in her eyes. “My parents dead, my betrothal broken—”

“So you’re the only one who’s suffered?” Red snapped. “Your people lost competent leaders and replaced them with a drunken child.”

Helene jerked in her chair, her eyes wide. Wolfe and her other guards stiffened, and Wolfe went so far as to put his hand on his sword hilt.

Red Gloves leaned back in her chair and raised an eyebrow. “So, instead of bemoaning your pain, it’s time to deal with the problem. I have Fael’s support, and I’ve not shared his bed to get it. He, at least, cares for his land and his people.”

“Our High Baroness cares for us,” Wolfe growled. “You go too far.”

Red never took her eyes off Helene as she spoke. “Prove it. The resources of Wyethe are not infinite, even with Summerford’s support. If Elanore and the Regent come against you again, they will wear you down eventually.” Red leaned forward. “With your aid, I can restore this throne.”

“Because of a prophecy and a birthmark?” Wolfe growled.

“Because of organization, tactics, cooperation, and a birthmark,” Red fired back. “And that grinds, doesn’t it?” She grinned, then dived into the details. She outlined the battle plans, talked supply lines, explained threat points and pitfalls. Josiah noticed she looked at Helene and Wolfe, making sure both were taking in the information.

Wolfe was. Helene looked a bit dazed.