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Authors: Iris Johansen

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BOOK: The Golden Barbarian
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He frowned down at her. “Did I hurt you?”

She tried to remember through the after-haze of the emotional storm through which she had just plummeted during the last moments. “I think so. A little. At first …”

“It was entirely your fault.
Merde
, what stupidity. Don’t you know what I could have done to you?” The roughness of his voice was belied by the gentleness of his hands as he knelt and tucked the cloak about her. “You should have told me Yusef hadn’t touched you.”

“You didn’t want to listen.”

“You should have made me listen.” He sat down on the carpet beside her and linked his arms over his knees, the muscles of his shoulders and arms ridged with tension. “It was a matter of the utmost importance.”

“Would you have believed me?”

He was silent a moment. “Probably not. I—I was not myself.”

Yet she believed the passionate recklessness she had discovered in Galen tonight was as much a part of him as the disciplined man she had learned to know. “Then why are you angry?”

“I believe the question should be why you aren’t angry with me for forcing you.”

“Because you didn’t force me.” She sat up and drew his cloak around her. “You should know that.
Merde
, you took long enough arousing my curiosity about the act.”

His gaze narrowed on her face. “I hope more than your curiosity was satisfied.”

She nodded briskly. “Oh yes, I enjoyed it very much. No wonder Pauline is so fond of the sport.”

The faintest smile touched his lips. “Then you’ve decided she doesn’t indulge herself merely because she has nothing better to do?”

She frowned thoughtfully. “It’s very …”—she searched for a word—”strong, isn’t it? I never realized …”

“It has to be experienced.” He was silent a moment. “Do you still hurt?”

“I’m a trifle sore.” She wrinkled her nose. “But no more than I was after that first day I rode astride. Actually, your pounding was far gentler than Pavda’s gait.”

Surprise crossed his face, and he threw back his head and laughed. “Dear God in heaven, if you’re not comparing me to your father, you’re likening me to your horse.”

She grinned. “You shouldn’t object. I’ve heard gentlemen delight in calling themselves stallions.”

His smile faded. “With strumpets a man can be a stallion. A virgin deserves gentleness.”

“I didn’t mind. I found it all very interesting. I believe I must not have been a proper virgin.”

His eyes twinkled. “A virgin cannot be anything but proper, else she wouldn’t be a virgin.”

“You know what I mean.” She glanced away
from him. “As usual, I was too bold. I liked it too much.”

“To my infinite delight.”

Her gaze shifted back to him. “Truly?”

“Truly,” he answered solemnly. “I should have expected nothing else from you.” He gently touched her hair with his fingertips. “Life,
kilen.”

Joy surged through her with a heady force that dispersed the languor. She smiled radiantly. “I’m glad you don’t mind my lack of meekness. I should hate to have to—” She broke off as she heard a familiar tinkle of bells, a dry rustling. “Alexander!”

“What?”

She threw the cloak aside, scrambled to her feet, and ran across the chamber. “It’s Alexander. He’s back.”

“Who in hades is Alexander?”

She ignored the question as she reached the window. “Come in, you idiot. It’s a wonder you didn’t get lost in the dark.”

Alexander flew through the window and landed on the mantel above the fireplace.

Galen stared in astonishment as the pigeon waddled along the wide stone mantel. “A bird?”

“Not just any bird. He’s my homing pigeon. I told you about him the second day I arrived in Zalandan.”

“Ah, yes. How could such an important tidbit of information have escaped my memory?” He watched her pick up the bird and carry it toward the wicker cage under the window. “I confess my mind was occupied by a few trifling matters. Bandits,
tribal wars, unity … I take it this Alexander has something to do with why you’re here?”

“Of course.” She glanced at him in surprise. “Kalim was going to cut off Yusef’s head. Besides, the flight from Yusef’s roof was no longer a challenge for Alexander.” She frowned down at the bird. “No, I’m not going to give you any grain. You don’t deserve it. You were supposed to go back to Zalandan.” She closed the cage. “I get very impatient with him. The silly bird probably flew all the way to Said Ababa and back.”

“You used Yusef’s house to train your pigeon?”

“It has the highest roof in Zalandan. Alexander’s not at all clever, and I thought he’d have a better chance of finding the palace if he could see it.” She scowled down at the warbling bird, “Listen to him coo at me. He probably doesn’t even realize he did anything wrong.” She took three grains from the leather pouch beside the cage and slipped them through the wicker bars and told the bird sternly, “This isn’t a reward, you understand. I just don’t want you to starve to death.”

“Why didn’t you tell Kalim?”

She didn’t look at him. “He wouldn’t have believed it. He has no liking for me.” She turned and lifted her chin defiantly. “Besides, why should I explain myself to him? Why should I let him tell me what I must do or what I must not do?”

“Because in this instance it might have saved you a modicum of unpleasantness.”

“I experienced no unpleasantness.” Her brow
wrinkled. “But for a moment or two you made me uneasy when I first woke up. You behaved most peculiarly.”

He turned to look down at the fire. “As I said, I was not myself. I do not like this place.”

“Why not?”

“It reminds me of what I was.” His lips twisted. “I think for a while tonight I became what I was then.”

“And you believe that is wicked?”

“Don’t you?”

For a moment she could sense an uncertainty and loneliness beneath the guard he usually kept around himself. She wanted to help him, comfort him in some way, but she knew he wouldn’t let her. Yet she had discovered one comfort they both enjoyed he would accept from her. “No.” She met his gaze fearlessly as she moved across the room to stand before him. “Not wicked. Different and … interesting.”

He shook his head. “But then you find the entire world interesting.”

She nodded. “But I know the difference between wicked-interesting and intriguing-interesting.”

“And what is that?”

“Tamar is wicked-interesting. I would not like him to touch me.” She reached out and put her hand on the triangle of dark hair thatching his chest. “But I like you to touch me.”

He went still. “How fortunate for me.”

“I would like to do it again, please.”

“Now?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.” She found it difficult to meet his eyes, so she flowed into his arms and laid her cheek on his chest. “I find looking at you is causing me to feel … I would like to do it again.”

“You’re not too sore?”

“No.” She lifted her head and whispered, “And I would like you to kiss me. You haven’t done that yet.”

“Oh yes.” His lips brushed hers as he gently pushed her back on the carpet. “There are many kinds of kisses, and we enjoyed one of the most pleasant ones. But I shall be delighted to show you many more.” He parted her thighs and moved between them. “By all means, we must keep life interesting for you.”

Tess cradled her head on her arm and gazed contentedly across the chamber at Alexander in his cage. His beady eyes stared back at her as he gave a soft warble. She felt an odd kinship for Alexander at the moment. She had soared herself this night. She had never dreamed when she had come to the tower this afternoon that she would be lying here replete and wondering at the pleasure touch could bring. She had only wished to know more about the puzzle that Galen posed. For that matter she still wished to know, and this might be a very good moment to broach the subject.

“What happened in this place?” Tess turned over on her other side to look at Galen. “Why didn’t you want me to come to the tower?”

Galen was silent for a long time, and she wasn’t sure he was going to answer. “My mother died here.”

“Here in the tower? You said she died in a fall from her horse.”

“She died running away from the tower.” He looked at the leaping flames curling around the wood in the fireplace. “My father killed her lover in the guardroom downstairs. She ran out the door, jumped on her horse, and tried to get away from him.” He paused. “Fifteen minutes later we found her crushed beneath her horse on the road to Said Ababa.”

“We?” She stiffened with shock. Galen had told her he was only a boy of twelve when his mother died. “You were there?”

He nodded jerkily. “When my father learned that she was meeting her lover in this tower, he sent for me. He told me my mother was a whore who had betrayed us both and must be punished. He said she had never had any affection for either of us and was planning to flee with her lover to Said Ababa.”

“Harsh words.”

“True words. I knew she had never loved me.” He paused. “But I didn’t want her to die. I thought if I went with my father to the tower, I might find a way to save her.”

“Perhaps you were mistaken. Most mothers have some affection for their children.”

“Not mine. When I was old enough to leave the nursery, she immediately abandoned me to my father.”

“That could have been by his will.”

He shook his head. “She hated me. She told me so.” He shrugged. “Perhaps she had reason. My father saw her for thirty minutes on the streets of Diran and kidnapped her and brought her to Zalandan to be his concubine.”

“That was your father’s sin, not yours.”

“She saw only my father in me. She once told me that I would grow up to be a barbarian like him, and she wished I had died in her womb.”

Tess shivered with distaste. “She sounds a very unpleasant woman. You were probably better off with your father.”

“Better a barbarian than a whore?”

“Was he a barbarian?”

“Yes, he was far worse than Tamar. And he taught me well. By the time I passed my thirteenth year, I was the savage my mother had called me.” His glance shifted from the fire to her face. “I remember on my sixteenth natal day I got drunk and brought several whores and a few friends here for a feast to celebrate.” He saw her eyes widen. “Ugly? Oh yes, but that was what I was. Tamar and I drank and feasted and orgied for three days. Something about the place drove me into a frenzy.”

Despair. Desperation. Tess didn’t voice the words, but she moved closer to him.

“Tamar killed one of the whores in a drunken rage.” Galen looked back at the fire. “He strangled her.”

“You couldn’t stop him?”

“I was drunk too. I woke the next morning and found her lying dead on the bed between us. For a moment I thought I had done it myself. I was sick and cold with disgust. Then I looked at Tamar and realized what I was becoming, what I already was.” His voice turned fierce. “What we all were. There had to be another path, the blood lust and lawlessness couldn’t go on.” He got to his knees and stoked the fire. “That was the last time I came to the tower.”

She shivered as she looked around the chamber. Now that she realized the debauchery and violence that had taken place here, the very walls seemed to exude a sinister air. In this tower Galen had known enough pain and disillusionment to have destroyed a weaker man. Instead, he had been hammered, honed to greater strength. Yet this place must abrade his spirit.

She sat up and threw off the cloak covering her. “I’ve had enough of this place.” She stood up and grabbed her gown from the floor and stepped into the divided skirt. “It no longer interests me. I wish to go back to the palace.”

“Now?” Galen turned to look at her. “I thought we’d wait until first light.”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t sleep.” She dropped down on the huge chair and pulled on her boots. “This is not a good place.”

He sat back on his haunches and smiled faintly. “I believe I could pique your interest, if you cared to stay until dawn.”

She smiled cheerfully. “I’m sure you could. I
find I like bed play very much, and you are most skillful at it, aren’t you?”

“I endeavor to please.” His voice lowered as his gaze fastened on her breasts. “While pleasing myself.”

“Well, we can do that back at the palace.” She stood up, located his clothes, and tossed them to him. “I’m sure well be more comfortable, and Alexander will be happier home in his aviary.

“Ah, yes, the well-traveled Alexander.” He smiled, “We mustn’t forget him.”

“Not
well
-traveled.” Tess grimaced. “He does everything badly.” She shrugged. “But hell learn in time. I have three years before he has to be proficient.”

He stopped in midmotion of pulling on his boot. “You’ve set yourself a time limit?”

“Of course. I’ve grown very fond of Viane, and if I can train Alexander, I see no reason why we can’t exchange messages after I leave Sedikhan.”

“Indeed?” He jerked on his boot with sudden force and stood up. “You’re already planning your departure? I might remind you that there are certain goals to be reached before you’ll be permitted to leave Zalandan.”

“The babe?” She crossed to the window and stooped down to pick up the wicker cage. “That shouldn’t take long now that we’ve made such a good start. I’m young and healthy, and if God wills, I should be heavy with child by autumn.” She looked at him. “If I cannot use the tower, we
must find another place to free Alexander. Do you know of such a place?”

“Possibly,” he muttered as he stood up and moved toward the door. “I’ll think on it.”

He was angry, she realized with surprise. She could feel the tension and displeasure emanating from him even at the distance separating them. “You need not trouble yourself to accompany me. Just tell me where—”

He turned to her. “Listen well,” he said deliberately. “From this moment on I will be behind you, beside you, or within you. When you return to the palace, it will be to my chamber and my bed. You will
not
travel over the countryside alone or under the protection of any other man. I may have only three years, but they are going to be my years.”

Before she could answer, he had flung open the door, and the next moment she heard the sound of his boots on the stone steps.

BOOK: The Golden Barbarian
10.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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