When Lightning Strikes (32 page)

Thomas eyes took on a look of distant pain. Mara had died. He wondered when she had died. He had not even known of it. Mara was really gone. He supposed it was no different that the way things already were, as he already had nothing of her left except his memories.

He forced a weak smile. It was enough for now. At least Dominic would talk to him and perhaps in time he would come to enjoy the life Thomas could at last provide for him. The life he had never been able to give to Mara.  He also knew there was a chance that Dominic would want none of it. But it was a start.

The men gathered themselves together to assess their injuries and get ready for the long ride home. Dominic walked over to where Marco was standing next to Salazar. His thoughts traveled to Sarah again. He had to leave this place and get to her as quickly as possible. He nodded to Marco.

“Ami. You are well, no?”

Marco nodded back and smiled. “It seems you did perfectly fine without me at your side. But you understand I am sure. I knew this was one battle you needed to fight alone.”

“Yes, I suppose I did. I had to. For Sarah. For all of us.” Dominic looked wearily at his friend. “I must ride to her now.”

Marco nodded his assent.

A few of the soldiers stepped forward and offered their aid in helping Dominic mount back up. His left shoulder was paining him badly and he agreed. They hoisted him up and offered to help any other of Dominic’s men who had been wounded as well, before they all headed back home.

Thomas stepped forward. “You will come with me back to the keep? At least let me offer you and your people food and shelter for the night. Your wounds need treatment.”

Dominic nodded to him. “I will follow later. I must go and retrieve my wife from where I had her taken for safety’s sake. I will not be long.”

Thomas nodded in agreement before walking away.

A moment later, Shaia and Fala peeked out from Indiri’s wagon.

“Nico!
You are well?”

“I am fine. Navarre is dead. It is over. We are headed back home with the protection of Thomas and his soldiers. We will stay at his keep this night.”

Shaia and Fala looked to each other in disbelief. Nico had been telling the truth about everything all along. Shaia was glad now that she had stood by their leader and helped to disarm some of the men. Which reminded her….

“Do all of the soldiers have to ride with the rest? I…well, we have a guest or two here with us in this wagon and the other one. Perhaps they would like to ride with us, instead of on horseback, no?” She laughed out loud.

One of the soldiers turned to Dominic and Marco with a look of suspicion on his face. He rode over to Indiri’s wagon and quickly dismounted, peeking inside the canvas. He quickly withdrew his head shaking it in disbelief at the sight of his comrade naked, tied up and gagged lying in the wagon. He jumped in and began untying his friend. Loud, angry curses ensued as the man threatened to flay the hide from the two sisters.

His friend boxed his ears once and offered him a flask of some kind of fermented brew, which the man drank down
immediately. He finished tying his breeches and shirt and jumped down from the wagon looking a bit embarrassed as he straightened his clothes.

Shaia and Fala had minutes earlier jumped free from the back of that wagon and headed up to the second one where their blond haired, teal-eyed prisoner was still ‘resting’. For some reason Shaia had scarcely been able to take her mind off of him from the moment she had looked into the depths of those sea-colored eyes of his.
And that golden hair. It was so rare a commodity here - scarcely seen among her own people. How much she liked it. Perhaps she could win his affections for the day anyway. She knew exactly how to do it.

She entered the wagon and knelt beside him and winked.

“It is over, this battle. Navarre de Lyonne is dead and your Lord Thomas is escorting us back home. If you comply, my sister and I will not hurt you and you may ride with us. Do you agree?”

He looked at her in disbelief for a second. A look of anger crossed his features and then was replaced by a look of comprehension. He nodded. Shaia untied the gag from his mouth. He opened his mouth to utter a foul curse at her but she silenced him as she softly placed her own lips on his. He was quiet as she kissed him and in a moment he had forgotten his angry words.

Shaia pulled back from him tenderly stroking his golden hair as she spoke again.

“Now.
Mayhap we can take up where we were forced to leave off by unfortunate circumstance. You must understand it was nothing against you.” She untied the top of her chemise. “Perhaps this will make up for my…and my sister’s earlier impoliteness, and we shall have a pleasurable ride home.” She bowed to him playfully.

He smiled.
“Oui, demoiselle. I would say it is a good start,” he said to her in flawless French.

He eyed her for a moment. There was something about this girl. She was beautiful and graceful. And intelligent, he could tell. He wasn’t so sure he wanted her to offer herself up to him in this way anymore. He knew her lifestyle demanded such things
of her for survival, but perhaps it didn’t have to be that way. On the other hand he wanted to turn her over his knee and whollop the bejezus out of her backside for what she and her sister had done to him. Not to mention that it was mighty damned hard to deny his raging body after they had gotten him all riled up.

“Would you like me to untie you now…or would you prefer to stay this way just a bit longer.
For safety’s sake only, mind you.” She licked the shallow cleft in his chin.

He looked at her for moment before he spoke. His eyes were no longer playful. “You do not have to do this, woman. I will not harm you. You need not give of yourself to me in this way to keep me at bay.”

She eyed him antagonistically. “Why would you say such a thing to me? No man of your kind ever turns us away. Are you a sodomite?”

He laughed out loud.
“No, for God’s sake! Now untie me.”

Shaia nodded to Fala to leave. Fala shrugged and jumped out of the back of the wagon to return to Indiri’s side in the other one.

“Why should I?” she spat out.

“Dammit woman!
You just offered to untie me when you thought I might ravage you. Or better yet, allow you to ravage me. Now I say I will not stand for it and offer to treat you with some respect and you want to keep me trussed up like a roast turkey at Christmas-tide!”

“Am I not beautiful enough for you? Or is it because I am Romany?” She huffed out the words as she grudgingly untied him. She knew full well that if she didn’t, eventually someone else would when they got to their destination.

He rubbed his wrists to get the circulation moving in them again. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And you are Romany, ‘tis true. That is irrelevant.”

She stared at him in disbelief. None of his kind ever called them Romany.
Only ‘gypsien’. Why had he done such a thing?

He reached forward to touch her face and dragged a
finger down the end of her nose. “Has anyone ever treated you like a woman should be treated? I mean…has anyone ever talked to you, or had some fun with you? And have they shown you the tenderness and the simple pleasures that can be shared between a man and woman?”

She thought of all the multitude of men she had sensually and sexually serviced – or taken advantage of in her life either for coin or purely for survival. Not one of them had ever made her feel loved. Not even Dominic, though she hated to admit it to herself. Oh, she had managed to find some pleasure with him on occasion, but mostly she and Fala had concentrated on making sure they kept him happy so he would keep returning to their bed and they could claim some sort of ownership of their troupe’s strong and handsome leader. But love…or this thing he called
tenderness
? No.

She shook her head at the golden haired stranger.

“What is your name?” he asked her.

“Shaia,” she whispered. His voice seemed to entrance her.

“My name is Dante.” He bowed to her ever so slightly. “Perhaps you need to learn of these things that I have spoken of,” he said very softly.

“And who will teach me this, Dante? You know what I am. All of your kind do.” she said to him.

“And what are you? I see a beautiful, graceful woman who has led a life of hardship. Nothing more.” He offered her his hand.

She took it very slowly and warily as he led her out of the wagon.

His horse was standing nearby and he nodded to it. “Would you care to ride in the saddle with me? We can get to know one another as we pass the time. It would not be unseemly as we will be in view of the others.”

She opened her mouth to speak but no words would come.
Unseemly? What on earth did that mean? Why would he treat her as if she were some pompous and ridiculously virginal gadge femme?

She shrugged at him and started to jump up onto the back of his horse but he stopped her, instead offering his strong arms to lift her up. Then he hoisted himself up behind her, gently placing one arm around her small waist.

“May, I…Shaia?” he whispered into her thick hair.

She smiled slowly and nodded as she looked down at his thick forearm around her and felt the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck. She could feel the solidity of his body behind her and it was comforting in a way she had never known before.

“Good then,” was all he said.

They would have plenty to talk about in the hours to come and he was glad it was a long ride home.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Sarah had seen it all. She had driven her horse long and hard across the field trying to reach Dominic. Navarre and Dominic’s battle in the dirt had seemed to play out in slow motion though she knew it was happening right before her very eyes, in real time. She had watched from an agonizing distance as Navarre’s sword pierced Dominic’s shoulder and she had seen him go down with it. She didn’t think she could bear anymore but she forced herself to look and at the last possible moment, Dominic had grabbed Navarre’s sword and tossed it away and then flung a knife into his forehead.

She had breathed a sigh of relief knowing Navarre was dead at last. That is until she saw the soldiers stop their fighting and Thomas and his men descend upon them. One of the soldiers had approached Dominic in a threatening way and when Thomas had arrived she had seen him walk up to Dominic and then the next thing she knew Dominic was being placed up on a horse by some of the soldiers, no doubt to be taken away to the dungeon.

Her eyes welled up with tears. Margery must have failed in her mission to get the book to Thomas! Perhaps Navarre had killed her before she ever got the chance. And now Dominic was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it. If she tried to come to his aid, they would no doubt take her away and force her to live among them in some horrible existence with no hope of ever returning to her own time. Did that really matter anymore?

Her heart pounded hard against her ribs with every picture that played out in her mind of these past days with him. She realized in that moment that she would rather die here trying to save the man she loved more than life itself than live without him in this place and time…or any other for that matter. She didn’t care anymore whether she ever made it home as long as she was with him.

Her mind raced for a few minutes before she made the decision what to do. She was going to rescue him somehow. She didn’t have a plan just yet, but she wasn’t going to leave him to die. But she had to get herself out of harm’s way first. She prayed they were all too busy in what had just occurred and in taking their prisoners to notice her riding away. If she could get to a place of safety, perhaps she could find her way back to the keep and convince Margery or Reginald to let her back in. If they were still alive that is. She prayed to God they were.

She kicked the mare into a full gallop praying none would notice her riding across the
field in the distance.

Dominic had seen movement from the corner of his eye as the men had helped him to mount up so he and Marco could go and retrieve Sarah. Far in the distance, across the field there was a rider on horseback tearing away from the scen
e like there was no tomorrow.

Who in God’s name was it? A light dawned in his eyes when he saw the long trail of golden curls furling out from her back in the wind.

“Sarah!” He called out her name in vain – his voice lost in the wind.

What the bloody hell was she doing here? And why was she riding away?

He nodded to Marco and kicked his horse into a full run in pursuit. It would not be easy to catch up to her. She had gotten a substantial lead and he was not in the most wonderful of conditions. His shoulder pained him like the fires of Hell itself. Damn the woman! He had given her explicit instructions to stay put until he came for her. Naturally, she had to defy him. He should have known this without a second thought. But why was she riding off instead of coming to him?

Back at the wagon caravan, Thomas turned to Marco. “We shall follow them to ensure he retrieves her in safety and causes himself no further injury.”

Marco nodded. “She will not get far, Lord Thomas. He is a strong man and he is well trained in the healing arts. Mara saw to that. He will survive his wounds. As for Sarah, suffice it to say she is headstrong. He told her to stay put until he came for her and – well,
you see how well she listens.” He winked at Thomas.

“Where in God’s name is she running off to? I thought she loved him. She certainly acted as a woman in love in her desperation to escape my keep.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh she loves him well enough. But she does not belong here. And neither does he, I fear.”

Thomas’
s eyes took on a puzzled look, but he said nothing as they began to assemble and turn the wagons around to head back down the long dusty road home.