The Golden Barbarian (29 page)

“You cannot steal my jewels.” Tess glared at him. “What else have I gotten from this marriage? Sand, heat, quarrels, and insults … and … and
freckles.”
She glanced around her. “And now you bring me to this filthy tower. Why are we here?”

“I came here once a long time ago with Galen.” Tamar’s gaze went to the curtained bed across the chamber. “It was convenient, and I thought it fitting.”

Tamar killed one of the whores in a drunken rage
.

Tess hid a shiver as she remembered Galen’s words about that horrible night that had changed his life.

Tamar was still staring at the bed. “Besides, Galen would not think of coming here. His memories of the tower are not as pleasant as mine.”

“My proposition,” Tess started. “I wish to—”

“Not now,” Tamar said abstractedly, his eyes glittering in his bearded face. “Do not bother me, It’s good to relive the past at times.”

The air was suddenly heavy, thick with malevolence.

“I’m hungry. Don’t vou intend to feed me?” Tess demanded.

His gaze shifted from the bed to her face. “Dear God, what a persistent shrew.”

“And where is that trunk of bottles of wine I
was carrying with me? It was a very good vintage.” She scowled. “Surprising that such uncivilized people as the El Zalan could produce such a fine wine.”

“My men told me it was quite a brew. Though they probably don’t have the palate to enjoy it fully.” He grinned. “However, I have more discerning tastes, and I shall tell you whether I agree with them.”

“Those bottles are mine! That trunk of wine would have lasted me years after I reached Belajo.”

“I’ll see if I can wrest one bottle from them for you. Or perhaps not. I want you alert and vigorous for the joust.” He smiled mockingly. “Will you give me your favor, Princess?”

“I don’t know what you mean, and I’m sure it’s disgusting.” She frowned. “But now I’m hungry, and you must feed me.”

He turned away. “I’ll send someone with a bowl of stew.”

“In my own silver bowl,” she said quickly.

He gazed at her over his shoulder. “You’re lucky I even feed you.”

“
My
bowl.”

He threw back his head and laughed again. “Your bowl.”

He slammed the door behind him, and she heard him laughing still as he ran down the steps.

She felt weak with relief as tension flowed out of her. Sweet Mary, she was frightened. Tamar’s expression as he had looked at the bed had made
her almost ill. How could Galen have thought they were even a little bit alike? Tamar was a monster.

She turned and went back over to the window. She could only pray the wine she had deliberately ordered packed would keep Tamar and his men occupied for a time before he demanded further amusement. She hadn’t realized she would be this afraid. She was not sure how long she could keep up this idiotic pretense when her knees were shaking with terror whenever he came near.

She glanced at the sky, but there was no sign of Alexander. Had he wheeled away from the west and gone east instead?

“Not Said Ababa,” she whispered. “Please, Alexander. Not Said Ababa. Zalandan.”

Over the last two hours the shouting and laughter in the guardroom had gradually lessened and then stopped entirely.

Tess’s hands closed on the arms of the chair with white-knuckled force as she strained to listen. She could hear nothing. Had Tamar drunk the wine? Was she safe?

Then she heard unsteady footsteps on the stone staircase. Not safe yet. Her gaze wandered frantically around the room.

The silver pitcher on the table looked heavy enough to use as a weapon.

Tamar flung open the door and staggered into the chamber.

“You didn’t knock,” Tess said as she forced her hands to release their grip on the arms of the
chair. “These discourtesies must cease.” She stood up and moved swiftly toward the table that held the silver pitcher. “And you didn’t bring me the stew you promised.”

“All gone. The wine too.” Tamar’s words were slightly slurred, his eyes fastened malevolently on her. “My men found it a curiously heady brew. I found myself wondering why.…” He lurched toward her. “I asked myself, now why should they have grown drowsy and thickheaded so soon when they’re used to much stronger draughts?”

Tess’s shoulders tensed as she kept her back to him. If she could only reach the pitcher. “It was a very good wine. Anyone could see why—” She broke off as Tamar’s hands fell on her shoulders and jerked her around to face him.

“What was in it?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Please release—”

She gasped as Tamar’s hands tightened with agonizing force on her shoulders.

“What? Poison?”

The pressure increased until she had to bite her lower lip to keep from screaming.

“What?”

“Laudanum.”

“Much?”

“I don’t … know. As much as I could find in the encampment.”

“And you played the stupid highborn bitch to lure me into believing you too witless to sting me.” His face was twisted with rage as his hands moved from her shoulders to her throat. “Whore!”

Tamar killed one of the whores in a drunken rage. He strangled her
.

For an instant Tess imagined she could hear that poor strumpet’s scream echoing from the walls of the room. Was she going to die here as well?

“Do you think I need you?” Tamar asked softly, his hands slowly tightening on her throat. “Your death will serve me as well. Galen cannot ignore the murder of his wife, even if he cares nothing for you. I thought to play a little with you, but you’ve been too clever.”

His grip was cutting off her air. She reached blindly behind her to grasp the silver pitcher, but before she could reach it, he swung her away from the table. Her hands flew frantically to her throat, trying to pry his fingers away.

Pain!

She could feel the blood pounding in her ears, exploding in her temples.

Her knees gave way, sagged. Tamar was holding her upright only by the merciless grip on her throat.

She didn’t hear the door open or Galen’s shout, but Tamar did.

His grip loosened, but he still grasped her throat as he turned toward the door, dragging her with him.

Galen. Sacha.

“Let her go, Tamar.” Galen’s eyes glittered as savagely as Tamar’s in the light of the candles.

He’s my mirror. He’s what I could be.…

Tamar cursed, released her throat, but struck her a vicious blow on the cheek that sent her reeling. He reached for the dagger at his belt.

“No!” Galen sprang forward across the chamber.

Galen’s expression … Something was there that she had waited for. Something was there.…

But he was moving too slowly. Tamar already had his dagger in hand and was turning toward her.

Galen was going to be too late!

She was going to die.

No, not now. Not when she knew Galen—

Candlelight gleamed on the lifted blade of the knife.

She felt herself falling into darkness.

Chapter 12

Galen’s strong arms were carrying her. She heard the click of his boot heels on stone.

“Don’t”—her throat hurt terribly as she forced the words out—“let me die.”

“Hush, Tess.” Galen’s voice broke on the words. “Don’t talk.”

She opened her eyes to look up at his pale face. Didn’t he understand? She had to tell him how important it was that she live and they be together. “It’s important.…”

Cool air on her face, the glare of a hundred torches from the El Zalan riders waiting on horseback outside the tower.

Galen said hoarsely, “You’re not going to die.”

She was shifted to someone else’s arms as Galen mounted Selik.

Sacha’s arms, she identified, as she gazed up into his familiar blue eyes. “Tell him—”

“Don’t be stubborn, imp,” Sacha interrupted impatiently. “You’ve put us through quite enough without wringing our emotions with that wisp of a frog’s croak.”

Comfort flooded through her. Even Sacha wouldn’t call her a frog if she were a dying woman. “Not my fault,” she said with as much indignation as her lack of volume permitted. “I … couldn’t do everything.”

Sacha smiled down at her. “You certainly tried. Drugging Tamar’s men, sending the message. You left us deplorably little scope for heroism. I suppose we should thank you for leaving Tamar to us.”

“Didn’t reach the pitcher in time.”

“Give her to me,” Galen said.

She was being transferred to Galen’s arms again, wrapped in a cloak and held close. “I did do very well.”

“Splendidly.” Galen pulled the cloak closer and settled her comfortably across the saddle. “Now, go to sleep and let us do the rest.”

“Tamar?”

She felt Galen’s muscles tense against her. “Dead.”

A broken mirror … No, that wasn’t right. She had to tell Galen how wrong he had been. “Twisted. Not like you.”

“Shh.” He pressed her cheek into the hollow of his shoulder as he turned Selik and raised his arm to signal to the men behind him. “You can talk later.”

A moment later the rhythm of Selik’s gait began to lull her to drowsiness. She breathed in the scent of dew-wet grass, leather, and lemon. “We should—talk. There’s much to say.”

“Later.”

Yes, it could all wait. Now that she had seen his face in that revealing moment, she could wait for the rest.

She nestled closer. “Later.”

Sunlight was streaming into her chamber at the palace, and Viane was sitting in a chair next to the divan when Tess woke several hours later.

Viane’s features were taut with strain as she leaned over to clasp Tess’s hand with her own. “Do not try to talk.”

Tess’s hand went to her throat, flinching as she touched the bruised flesh. “Hurts.”

“There are terrible bruises,” Viane whispered. “I am so sorry. It is my fault—”

“Nonsense.” Tess sat up and threw off the sheet. Dear heaven, she sounded like a squawking crow. “How could it be your fault? It was Tamar who choked me. Where is Galen?”

“He just left you. He’s been sitting here all night.”

That seemed an excellent sign to Tess, and
added to what she had seen in his expression last night …

“I want to see him.” She stood up, swayed, and then steadied on her feet. “Will you help me dress?”

“You should rest.” Viane frowned. “Besides, he can’t see you. He’s just received word that the Tamrovian party has been sighted a mile from the city gates.”

Her father! Sweet Mary, she had almost forgotten this new threat on the horizon. Yet she found to her surprise that the news didn’t bring the same fear it had when she had first heard he was coming. After facing Tamar, she found the threat posed by her father dwindled. “Is Galen in his chamber?”

Viane nodded. “Why can’t you wait? Kalim is still outside in the hall. You can send a message to—”

“I hate to wait. I want to go myself.” Tess’s brows lifted. “Kalim has been outside all night too?”

Viane flushed and nodded. “He’s been very kind, but he will not leave me. He seems to think he’s done something unforgivable.”

I would die for her
, Kalim had said.

“I’m sure Sacha would have been equally—” Tess stopped and shook her head. The words felt wrong, somehow. She must think this through at a later time.

“And Galen will not forgive. He’s very angry at Kalim for letting you be put in Tamar’s hands.”

“It wasn’t Kalim’s fault. I’ll talk to Galen about it later.” But not now, she was too impatient to put her own life in order. “Come, I want words with Galen before my father arrives.” She moved across the chamber toward the dressing room. “I’ll wear the emerald-green gown. While I wash and dress, will you choose a beautiful scarf to go around my neck and hide these bruises?”

She must try to speak normally as well. Galen must not be influenced by pity. Whatever his decision, whatever he told her, it must come from his heart.

“Go back to your chamber.” Galen frowned as soon as she walked in his chamber. “Better still, go back to bed.”

“Why? I belong here.” Tess closed the door behind her and looked at him. “And I find bed very boring when interesting things are happening elsewhere.”

For an instant a glimmer of humor eased the grimness of his expression. “I’ve noted you’re not overcome with ennui when interesting things are also happening in bed.” His smile faded. “I don’t want you here when your father arrives. You’ve fought enough battles.”

“But this is mine also. Where is my father?”

“He should be here soon. Sacha rode put to meet him and bring him to the palace.”

“Then we’ll wait together.” She smiled at him. “I must be here to defend myself. After all, I’m
only a helpless woman. How will I know you won’t hand me over to him?”

“Helpless woman? You jest. All of the El Zalan are talking of how you arranged Tamar’s capture.” He frowned. “And I told you I wouldn’t—Why are you laughing?”

“I feel like laughing, I’m very happy.” She moved across the room to stand before him. “Tell me, Galen, now that Tamar is dead, the threat to the alliance is much less, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t really need me any longer to secure the unity?”

He stiffened. “I didn’t say that.”