Epic Of Palins 01 - Dagger Star (28 page)

She sighed as he ran his hands over her arms and legs, sharing his heat with her, warming her chilled flesh.

“Sleep, Red.” Josiah’s voice was soft and warm in her ear. “I’m right here.”

She nodded, and closed her eyes. But the images that came were of the altar, of Josiah and Bethral dead on the ground, and Ezren screaming curses.

Her eyes snapped open. Her chest froze, the breath in her body trapped within. She reached out for Josiah, seeking reassurance. He was there, had to be there, beside her, and—

“Easy.” Josiah captured her frantic fingers with his own. “All’s well, Red. I’m fine.” He brought her gloved hand up to his chest. She pressed it there, seeking his warmth, the feel of his skin, the beat of his heart. But wet leather stopped her, and she moaned in frustration.

“What’s wrong?” Josiah stirred beside her, propping himself on an elbow, concern flooding his face.

Red trembled. “I need….”

“What ever you need,” Josiah assured her, covering her hand with his own.

Red swallowed hard. “I need to touch you.”

TWENTY-FIVE

HER wide eyes looked into Josiah’s, frantic and frightened. Concerned, he pulled her to his chest, catching her hands between their bodies. “Whatever you need, Red. We can touch. We are touching.” He moved his legs, rubbing his lower leg against hers.

“No,” came the soft, desperate response. “More. I need to touch you.”

Puzzled, Josiah drew back. It took him a moment, but then he suddenly realized what she meant.

“You’re going to take them off?”

Her eyes grew wider, and she shook in his arms. “Ah,” he spoke softly. “You want to, but you can’t, can you?”

She shook her head, biting her lip. “I want….”

“Hush.” He pulled her close, and released her hands so he could rub her back. She shuddered in his arms, more from shock than passion. He looked at the small lantern, burning softly on the beam. “What if we blow out the lantern? Would that be enough? I couldn’t see….” His voice trailed off as he saw her expression. Whatever demons drove her, they wouldn’t let her take off those damn gloves. Unless…

He sat up, careful to keep her covered for whatever warmth the bedding offered. He reached over for his tunic, already torn in the front. He gathered the material in two fists, and tore off a wide strip. And then another, from around the bottom.

“What are you doing?” Red sat up.

Josiah didn’t answer. He just tore a few more strips. “Here. Wrap this around your eyes.”

Red frowned, but did as he asked.

“Can you see?”

She tilted her head a few times. “There’s a bit of light around the edges.” He wound another strip around. “No,” Red said, “I can’t see a thing. But—”

Josiah took the strips off her head, and Red smoothed her hair back, giving him a puzzled look.

He smiled at her, glad to see some calmness back in her eyes. “They’re for me.” He offered her the strips. “Bind my eyes, Red Gloves. Then bind my hands to the beams. Outspread, so I can’t rub my face against them.”

Red’s jaw dropped.

“I trust you.” He leaned in, kissing her soft lips. “I won’t be able to see, or get free. You can take off your gloves, Lady Warrior, with no fear.”

“Josiah,” Red whispered, as if unable to believe. “You’d do this?”

Josiah moved, stretching out on the blankets, centering himself between the two posts. “For you, Lady.”

Red got to her knees, and tied one end of two strips to each beam. Josiah extended his arms, and she tied the strips to his wrists. Josiah tested them, pulling hard. There was a bit of give in the fabric, but not enough to allow him to escape or to touch his face.

Red looked down at him, her face filled with wonder and a hunger he’d never seen. He lifted his head toward her, and she wrapped the fabric around his eyes. But she didn’t stop with one strip; she secured him with three, tying them off. When she was done, Josiah put his head down. He opened his eyes, but there was only utter darkness. He closed them, satisfied that there’d be no chance he could see.

“Can you see anything?” Red demanded.

“No,” he replied, pulling at his bonds. “It’s safe, Red.”

She said nothing, but he felt her shift on the blankets. He gasped as he felt her lips brush over a nipple.

“You’re certain?” she asked again. Josiah swallowed, and nodded, unable to trust his voice. The sensation was so different, not knowing when or where or—

Cold steel touched his other nipple.

Josiah jerked as the tip of a dagger pressed into his skin.

“You really can’t see,” Red whispered.

“I trust you,” Josiah repeated, ignoring his racing heart. “Whatever you need, Red.”

Silence was his only answer, as she sat beside him. Josiah tried to remember to take in air. He could feel her gaze on his skin, and his body responded. He did trust her, but there was something about being so vulnerable. So exposed. He drew another breath, and then felt her move.

She was drawing off her gloves.

The leather was wet, and he could hear her tugging at the fingers, loosening them in order to pull them off. He shifted on the blanket. He couldn’t help but wonder. Were they disfigured somehow? Blackened and stained? Or maybe they were claws, hard and sharp, that would pierce his skin—

He jumped at her touch. Her fingertips were cold, and damp from the leather, but they felt normal against his skin. She placed them on his chest, just below his collarbone, and paused there. Her fingers warmed as she hesitated.

“Whatever you need,” Josiah urged her on, breathing deeply, trying not to struggle against his bonds. She needed this, needed to know that he lived.

Her hands pressed down now, palms over his nipples. Her fingers curled, and her fingertips moved over his skin with the barest of touches. He licked his lips, wanting more.

She explored his chest, tracing the lines of muscle, caressing the hairs. Josiah’s breath came faster as her hands moved lower and lower still. Red made no sound, but Josiah could feel her focus on him, on his body, as she explored.

He was lost, lost in the darkness, lost in the feel of her touch. He moaned as she moved past his hips, stroking his thighs and the soft skin behind his knees. Silently, she rubbed his shins, then the tops of his feet.

“Touch me,” he asked, wanting more of her, but Red ignored him, retracing her path up his body until her fingers explored his neck and face. Softer than snowflakes, they touched him, fluttering over his cheeks and lips.

Josiah opened his mouth to plead, but Red covered his lips with hers, claiming a kiss. He could feel wetness on her face.

Red Gloves was crying.

He licked his lips, tasting the salt of her tears. “Red—”

She moved then, wrapping her hand around him, guiding him into her depths as she straddled his body. He arched his back, thrusting up at the sudden touch, and slid into her wet heat.

She set the pace of their dance, and it was a slow one, each giving as much as was taken. Josiah climbed higher and higher as he strove to bring her with him. Unable to touch, all he could do was thrust, accepting the pleasure of her touch, her body, her mouth on his.

For one single moment, it felt as if they moved as one, then Josiah fell over the edge, crying out her name. In that brief instant, he thought she cried out his name as well, then all was lost in a bright swirl of pure release.

Eventually he stirred, and opened his eyes to find himself free, with Red curled at his side, her gloves on her hands. He shifted slightly, and kissed her eyes as she lay sleeping. Red stirred, but didn’t awaken.

The tear tracks remained on her face, and he frowned at the sight. He stroked her face with his fingers, drying those tears. There was so much about his kitten that he didn’t know.

Red roused slightly, and turned her head so that her lips brushed over his palm. Josiah smiled softly. Maybe he couldn’t guard her body, but he could protect her heart, for as long as she allowed.

He settled down in the hay, making sure that the blankets covered them both completely. Red murmured a protest at the movement, then cuddled closer. He smiled at the beams over his head, and closed his eyes to sleep.

AT dawn, Red was standing outside the barn, staring over sodden fields. It must have started raining in the night, for there was water puddled in the dirt of the yard.

Bethral, standing watch in the door of the smithy, had seen her emerge. She’d lifted a hand in greeting, but had not come over. That was fine by Red. She needed a moment to think.

She sucked in a breath of cool, wet air and glanced down at her red gloves. The leather looked the worse for wear, that was certain. They were drier, at least. Cleaner. She clenched both fists, and then released them, reassured by their familiar feel and presence.

Last night, Josiah had offered what it never occurred to her to ask for, offered his…surrender without hesitation. She couldn’t have done the same. The very idea made her blood run cold.

How could he trust that way? Trust her?

She closed her eyes, feeling once again the softness of his skin, the feel of his hair, hard muscle under velvet. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d touched another that way.

She wanted to go back up in the hayloft, rouse her sleeping goatherder, and do it again.

She stomped that idea right down, mentally pushing it into the muck of the bog. Such gifts were rare, and not to be taken lightly or presumed on. By its very nature, it was far more valuable for its offering than in its taking.

But Twelve take it, she wanted more.

A sound drew her back, and she turned her head slightly to see the boy emerge from the house and head in her direction. He ran over, and bounced to a stop before her. “Ma says to ask you to breakfast. She’s cooked a haunch!”

Red gave him a nod. “Tell Bethral.” She nodded toward the blonde. “I’ll wake Josiah, and we’ll be in shortly.”

The boy didn’t wait. He bolted over to Bethral, talking before he even reached her.

Bethral raised her head, and gave her a questioning look. Red nodded, then turned back into the barn to fetch Josiah. Might as well eat. They’d no gear, and it would take at least three days to get back to Athelbryght on foot, if they pushed. And Ezren didn’t look near close to “pushable.”

Beast was still asleep in his stall. Red frowned, considering, as she reached for the ladder. She could take Beast and make a run for Athelbryght. Leave the others here, sheltered as safe as they could be. But she rejected it before she’d climbed another step. It wasn’t any safer to separate, and she wouldn’t leave Josiah.

She huffed a breath as she climbed. They needed to be on their way, but they also needed food, and whatever information they could gather quickly. They might be able to buy supplies, maybe even horses with the looted coin.

No time for pleasure this morning. The dawn was a calm one, but Red knew that wouldn’t last.

Nothing ever did.

LARRISA’S face was glowing from the heat of her hearth. She shook her head as she carved a hunk from the haunch on the hearth. “There’s no horses to spare roundabout. I’ve supplies, and you’re welcome to all you can carry.”

They’d been welcomed to her small kitchen, and a creaky wooden table laden with food. Red hadn’t been the only one surprised at the bounty. Larrisa’s three children were acting like it was a holiday feast, eagerly staring at the venison.

“Sit, and fill your plates,” Larrisa urged. “Therrin, help your sisters.”

Therrin sighed deeply, as if greatly put upon.

Larrisa gestured to Bethral. “You may want to sit elsewhere. Farasa is a messy eater.”

Bethral laughed, and settled next to the smallest girl. “What do you want, little one?” The girl looked up with wide brown eyes and pointed at the bread and butter. Red had no idea how old they were, but they’d their fair share of adorable, that was certain.

Oris filled a plate, and accepted slices of meat from Larrisa. He took it to Alad, who stood watch outside.

“We can pay.” Red settled on a bench next to Josiah. “We’ve—”

Larrisa shook her head. “Better you than the thrice-damned raiders. Folks around here have decided to band together, and leave this place. The haunch would have rotted soon enough, so I put it on to roast.” Her voice was gruff. “Eat, warriors. Then we can talk.”

For a few minutes, there was no sound but the passing of platters and the dishing up of food.

Larrisa carved hunks of meat from the haunch, generous portions for all. Red ate, and watched as Josiah helped the littlest girl drink from her cup, making sure she didn’t spill a drop. Therrin seemed torn, stuffing his mouth and looking at all of them. Red imagined he had a thousand questions, and they’d spill over eventually.

Oris took a second plate, and then a third, out to Alad. None of them held back, and Red could feel the meat filling the hollows of her stomach. Which left her with as many questions as the boy.

The boy burst out first. “What happened to ya? Was you attacked?”

“That much is clear,” Larrisa chided. “See to the kavage, Therrin.”

The boy jumped up for the pot by the fire, eager to serve. Red was sure he’d not miss a word.

“We were traveling toward Penature on the bog road when we were attacked.”

Larrisa shook her head. “There’s been problems with raiders for months, and no aid to stop them.”

Bethral caught Red’s eye as Larrisa poured kavage. Raiders or an ambush? Had it been chance?

Red shrugged. Given events, she was fairly sure they’d been targeted.

“This is a good bit of land.” Josiah spoke softly.

“It is.” Larrisa looked at him. “My man was a farmer and horse breeder. He was killed when the raiders attacked, not four weeks past. Killed him and took the horses.” She looked down at the table. “I’ve not the skill to lay in crops, and little hope to keep things going here. We’ve nothing left but a few pigs and chickens.”

“We could do it, Ma.” Therrin sat up straighter at the table, squaring his shoulders.

She gave him a soft look. “If it were the two of us, we might. But the girls need tending, too.”

She looked at the one sitting next to Josiah. “Show me your arm, Cera.”