I stood on the bow gazing at the unfamiliar landscape. Lush green flora spilled over the tops of the craggy rocks, dotted with vibrant blooms in violet and pink. Children played along the white, sandy beach, beautiful young figures with olive skin and curly mops of dark hair. Along a stony reef, older folks caught enormous red crabs and stuffed them into baskets, and glorious, pale pink sea birds wheeled and cried overhead.
"Is Sanraeth like this?" I asked Bannon as he approached behind me. I recognized the tread of his footsteps, and his wonderful, reassuring scent.
"Nothing like this." He rested a hand on my hip. "Sanraeth is all grand blue peaks capped with snow, and fresh, green forests for miles around. We'll sail upon it through an icy fjord, and pass through the gate of Boga, a grand old ancient sculpture taller than Lord Khan's castle by half. A pair of godly statues flanks the passage through two giant boulders rising up from the waters."
Snow? Fjord? I didn't know those words. I didn't interrupt, though, and leaned my head against his chest as he spoke. The ban on touching now lifted, I basked in his warmth.
"Come, then." He backed away from the ship's rail and took me by the hand. "Let's find out what awaits us in port. Since we're here, we should find lodgings off the ship, and spend our time out of the way of the shipwrights."
I followed. Before we descended the gangplank to the dock, Schala bounded up to sit on my shoulder, and I stroked her silvery head.
The crab fishers approached us the instant we disembarked, offering us the fresh catch in exchange for gold. The price was good, and the crabs smelled fine and briny in the cool beach air, but Bannon gave them a polite dismissal, letting them know the ship's cook would no doubt come looking for good crab in short time. As we ascended to the path from the sandy shore up toward the city, some of the children came racing up to see us, wide-eyed and excited.
My skin prickled. They'd come to stare at me and my tattoos. One of the boys reached out to touch a twining red design on my arm, making me flinch away.
"Stop it!" I snapped. The boy laughed as though I'd shown him some wonderful trick, though, and he and his friends ran away, calling out in a different language, wheeling like the sea birds above.
Bannon kept his mouth shut, but I caught the quirk of amusement tugging at his lips.
"It isn't funny. People gawking at me and laying hands on me without permission."
"You're right," he conceded. "I apologize, kitten."
I couldn't escape the stares, though, just as I'd expected. When we came to the first few buildings marking the edge of town, people looked up from their chores in the dooryards, each face filling with confusion or curiosity when they fell on me. I put my shoulders back and held my head high, unwilling to let anyone see me upset by it, but inside, uncharitable thoughts stewed like a brooding storm.
The marketplace was better, with most people too interested in their shopping to take notice of Bannon or me. Some of the crew had arrived ahead of us, and I saw Ashe and three of her mates huddled around a fruit stand selecting bright, swollen melons and handfuls of the reddish things from the palms.
"Dates," the vendor told us as we approached and I picked up one of the fruits, examining it with a quirk of my brow.
"You'll like them, Sadira," Ashe assured me. "They're quite sweet."
Bannon passed the vendor a coin as I brought the date to my mouth and took a bite. The meat was softer, chewier than I'd expected, but as Ashe promised, deliciously sweet. As I nibbled away at it, Schala reached out one curious paw to bat the pit.
"I love seeing you smile like that." Bannon stroked my hair as I finished the fruit. Returning his attention to the vendor, he drew a sack of coin from the satchel at his side to purchase more of the fruits, along with some of the melons and a flask of some local liquor.
"Is there an inn here?" he asked as the vendor handed over the purchases. "Our ship will be in port for a fortnight, I expect, and I'm eager to spend the time on shore instead of in cramped bunks."
"You'll find the rooms at the inn aren't much bigger," the fruit vendor said. He pointed down the crowded narrow, cobbled street. "Down at the end, under the sign of a ram. They rent out rooms by the day and serve some excellent food as well."
Bannon flipped him another coin. "My thanks."
The inn under the sign of the ram looked like an old building, its white clay walls showing respectable cracks of age. An old man in an apron, with long, curly hair nearly the same color as Schala's fur, stood outside sweeping the stoop.
While Bannon conferred with the old man, I drifted across to a shop door flanked by vivid ferns. Probably an apothecary, I mused as I fingered a bright, coral-pink bloom standing up from the wide green fans of an unfamiliar plant. The flower smelled strong and sweet, almost as saccharine as the date, and a pair of bees bobbed about its fellows, pausing to crawl across firm, bright petals.
"I saw flowers like these in Vashtaren sometimes," I told Bannon as he joined me, evidently finished with his conversation. I touched another one of the blooms as the bees abandoned it. "Only these are so much more fragrant."
"There's that smile again." He crooked a finger under my chin and touched his thumb to my lips. "You look happier than you have in days, my kitten. I thought that child with his grabby hands would have you in a prickly mood all morning."
I frowned. "I suppose not. At least there've been no others trying to snatch at me or throwing rocks and rotten eggs."
In truth, I thought it was the distance from the Drekakona improving my mood, and the promise of spending our time in port onshore instead of below decks. Each new day on the ship seemed to bring me more trouble, and more reasons for Bannon and the others to think I might be out of my mind. I still hadn't told him about the serpent's skull, or the impossible vision I'd seen in the flames—blue flames, like the blue light in my dreams.
The sailors muttered about the unusual color of the flames, and the source of the fire remained a mystery to all. Arne had finally decided some exotic treasure from the war, one of the foreign spices or oils, had combusted under bad storage conditions.
I doubted it was so simple.
"What will we do while we're here?" I asked, hoping against hope for nothing but sunshine, good food, and lots of decadent, loving sex. He grinned at me, as though he could read my mind.
"Staying on land gives us an excellent opportunity to continue your training with the axe and shield. Tomorrow, I think, we'll find a place where we can practice freely, and start you out with a real weapon instead of the wooden ones. It would please me, too, if you would teach my daughter the use of your sickle swords."
"I've never taught someone to fight before."
"Consider it a trade for what she will teach you."
Not a carefree retreat, but I could be happy with time spent in training. Bannon took my arm and turned me away from the fragrant flowers, toward the inn and the scent of cooking food.
Long, dry fingers seized my wrist from behind, jerking me back. We spun to find a short, white-faced woman in the door to the flower shop, staring daggers at me. Schala hissed, putting up her back, claws pricking my shoulder.
Though the blood had drained from the woman's face, high, bright spots of color rode her cheeks, and she clenched her teeth so hard I thought she must be causing herself terrible pain. She wore a simple green shawl which had dropped loose from one shoulder, and in her free hand she gripped a short-handled knife with a waving, curvy blade.
"Traitor!" she shrieked, raising the knife over her head. I tried to jerk away but she held onto me like iron, screaming as she attacked.
Switching my balance, I sidestepped, avoiding her forward rush. Schala bounded down to the street and swiped at the woman's ankles, uttering a wild yowl. The woman swung again, and I ducked, thrusting my palm forward in a flat strike up into her ribs, catching her unaware and stunning her—she released my wrist. Bannon grabbed the hand with the knife and twisted it behind her back until she dropped it.
"Traitor!" she repeated, jabbing a finger at me. "Apostate! The loyal people of the serpent will see you punished for your betrayal! Akolet will have his vengeance, you unfaithful whore!"
Chapter Seventeen
My mouth dropped open. Schala yowled again and lunged to bite the woman's leg but caught a swift kick to the ribs.
Without thinking I swept in and grabbed the woman by the throat, squeezing hard. "Don't you dare touch my cat!"
She gurgled a weak reply, and I tightened my grip. At last she relaxed, ceasing her resistance.
"Good," I spat as I released her. Others on the street had stopped their business and stared at us, pricking my every instinct, making me wary. Another attack could come from any side, at any moment. I stooped to seize the knife she'd dropped.
"What are you here for?" Bannon growled. The woman gave a simpering cry as he ratcheted her arm back a little further, putting on pressure. "Who sent you after Sadira?"
"After who?"
Her voice, harsh and high and shrill only seconds ago, flattened into a quavering, fearful confusion. The wild look in her expression brought a knowing dismay to my gut.
"She doesn't know." I took a step back, scooping Schala into my arms. Immediately the caracal climbed up onto my shoulder and uttered a growl at the woman. "Like the men in Alaric's castle who lost their senses. The Vash boy and Jarl. She doesn't know what she did."
Bannon narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure? I see no stigmata on her."
"I'm sure," I muttered, overcome by cold grief. It really was happening again, wasn't it?
The woman showed none of the signs of possession, as Bannon said. When Alaric's foul spirit inhabited his temporary hosts before, he left them marked with a horrible, crimson affliction around their eyes, turning them a vibrant, swollen red, and making their tears stream down like blood. This would-be assassin looked blanched, and she trembled with violent fear, but she showed no horrible mark of Alaric's dark possession.
Still, she stared at us both, looking from me, up to Bannon, then to me again.
"I didn't mean to... I just... I saw you there, looking at the firebird flowers and then—"
I turned away in disgust, unable to listen to more. Bannon released the woman and moved to my side, resting his hands on my shaking arms.
"Hush, now, hush, kitten." He tilted my face up to his, searching my eyes, and pulled me into an embrace. "It's all right, love. He's not here."
"Is this only the result of an anxious mind?" I pushed away from him, burning with frantic, riotous alarm. "Did I imagine it, Bannon?"
"Sadira—"
"You should have believed me!"
His face fell, and his shoulders slumped. Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced back and forth, considering the woman who'd attacked me, the old man with the broom outside the inn, the handful of shoppers, all now staring at us. Before he could say anything, I whirled away, storming down the cobblestones.
"Sadira!"
Jogging to catch up, he fell into step beside me. "Sadi, I don't know what to say."
"You could apologize," I suggested, surprising myself with the fierce defiance in my tone. I hadn't spoken to Bannon so boldly since our first uncertain days together, when neither of us could decide what to do about the other.
He took me by the arm and spun me to face him. Jolted by the motion, Schala bounded down to the ground.
"You are right, Sadira. You were right. I apologize for failing to hear you."
"Good." I started walking again.
"Where are you going?"
"Away!" I told him. "It's too... too tight here. Too many corners and avenues, too many doorways where some other surprise can jump out at me with one of these."
I held up the knife. I'd forgotten I still held it clutched in one fist. I hadn't even wondered why the shop woman would have such a thing or where she might have gotten it. The curvy blade certainly wouldn't be any good for cutting flowers or slicing herbs, or anything botanical. I handed it to Bannon, who slipped it into his satchel.
Once he'd stowed the knife, Bannon took my hand in both his own.
"What do you need, Sadi? How can I help quell the turmoil?"
I stared at him, unsure of the answer myself. Schala wound around my calves, giving me a gentle butt of her head and striking up a loud, rumbling purr. She, too, seemed to sense the rising panic and agitation inside.
Tie me up? Lash me until all this terrible energy burns away? Strap me to bed and fuck me into a stupor?
I dug my fingers into my hair. "I just want to get away from here!"
"All right."
He took my wrists in gentle hands and guided them back to my sides. Touching my temple, he murmured, "Look at me, kitten. Just look at me now. If you trust me, I have an idea."
A mean urge almost made me demand to know how I could trust him, when he'd dismissed my fears so easily before. I managed to keep my mouth shut, though, and merely nodded my assent.
He led me down the village's main street, back to the beach path. Down by the water, the children looked up, eager perhaps for another chance to jabber and grin over my appearance, but after a quick search in the opposite direction, Bannon steered me away from them. Instead of heading for the Drekakona, he took us to where the sandy shore gave way to a hilly rise of speckled gray rocks.
We made our way up to a smooth rise of bright, low scrub and mossy greenery, where Bannon paused again, looking back and forth. Just ahead, a lush stand of trees seemed to mark the beginning of a tropical forest.
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the children give up their interest in us and return to their other activities. Once we reached the edge of the trees, we'd be out of sight of the beach and the road into the city, though close enough still to hear the vendors crying back and forth and the birds calling overhead.
What does my barbarian have in mind?
Bannon led me to the shady shelter of wide, fat trunks and large, waxy leaves. I reached out to inspect one of the spotted, jade-colored fronds, when his first command cut me off.
"Strip."
"What?" I spun to face him, frowning. "Here? We're not even out of earshot of the people on the beach."
He returned my gaze with a serious, unwavering expression. "I know. We're going to play a little game, and you get to be the bunny. Bunnies don't wear leggings or bodices or boots. So, strip."
The tone in his voice brought a quick shiver to my spine. Underneath my simple jerkin, my nipples tingled and stiffened. Strip, here? Where it would be so easy for someone to come upon us? What if traders or lumber workers moved through these woods?
Keeping my eyes on Bannon's, I slowly stooped to obey. Schala bounded down from my shoulder as I slipped off my boots, then my belt and leggings. Bannon observed me, intent, as though he felt no need at all to watch our surroundings or worry about interruption.
After all, I realized, beginning to understand this exercise. I may be the bunny, but he is the bear. What fear does a bear have of whatever lies in the woods?
I shed my jerkin and the simple breast band underneath, and at last my simple underthings. I folded them into a pile and stood to hold them out, uncertain what he'd want me to do with them.
He tipped his head toward one of the trees nearby, whose roots arched up from the soil in one place to create a sort of crawl space. I hid my clothing there, crawling on hands and knees in rich, sweet-smelling soil, and called Schala into the hiding spot with them. When she'd settled on top of the clothing, I crept back out and climbed to my feet, utterly naked before my Master. My studded nipples gave a little throb against their hard metal barbells, flush under his scrutiny, and the first warm stir of wicked arousal bloomed in my belly.
Bannon sauntered in a circle around me. "Still agitated, little bunny?"
"Yes," I admitted. "Though your idea of distraction is proving effective, with you baring my body to the world."
"Aren't you used to nakedness by now?"
"Not like this."
H
e resumed his place in front of me and rubbed at his chin. A spark of something hungry and dangerous lit up his eyes, and a grin spread across his face.
"Okay now, pet. Run."
Again, I stared. Run? Run where?
When I didn't move, he lunged at me, turning me around and striking me on the behind. The hot flash of his palm on my ass shocked me into a quick stutter-step forward.
"Go on and run," he repeated. "Run fast and hide, because the Red Bear of Sanraeth is going to hunt you down, and if he catches you..."
A flare of wild exhilaration overtook me. Instinct blazed to life, and all at once I knew exactly how to play this game my Master had in mind.
I lunged into a sprint and ran.
My heart flew into a fast, ferocious beat, and all the hectic, ugly energy in my limbs and stomach and head went to work, speeding me on. The shady breeze, faint with the distant scent of the ocean, teased and tickled my naked skin as I ran, making me vibrantly aware again how easy it would be for me to chance upon some local on a stroll through their familiar forest. Despite the events of the morning—or maybe in part, because of them—wild laughter bubbled up inside me, hectic and breathless.
Still agitated? Yes. And my Master knew when fear and agitation overwhelmed me, it took action, strain, stimulation, release to purge them from my head and my heart. The pure, primal joy of burning energy and pounding blood in my veins.
Today, a race between predator and prey.
I ducked between enormous bushes and huge, fragrant flowers the color of bright, ripe pomegranates. Behind me, Bannon's voice carried through the trees.
"You won't evade me long, kitten! I've tracked prey for miles across snowy mountains and valleys! I'll have your ass before the hour's out!"
I spotted a cluster of boulders beside a squat tree and darted behind them. Two of them formed a shadowy passage just above the ground, and I crawled into it, lying on my belly to watch the direction from which I'd come.
The soil's too soft and springy here. I must have left obvious footprints and he'll find me for su—
Beauty's Secret (Beast and Beauty Book 2) Page 14