By The Assassin's Side (Daggers 0f Desire Book 3)
Page 18
She sighed. “I’m not going to shut you out again. My days of running from my feelings are over. You’ve cut off my legs.”
“What a shame, they were such beautiful legs,” he said, sliding a hand down her leather-encased limbs.
“You know what I mean.” She giggled and tapped his chest.
“I’ll believe it when I hear you say it again.”
“Say what?”
“That you love me.”
She swallowed hard. “What?”
A playful gaze caught her eye. “Say you love me and I’ll believe that you aren’t going to get your half of the treasure and run, leaving me a broken shell of a man.”
“Simon—”
“Go on,” he teased. “I’ll even start. Vivian Bellarose, I love you. With all of my heart. See, that wasn’t so hard. Now, it’s your turn. Let’s take down the last piece of your impenetrable wall.”
She wanted to say it. Desperately. She gazed into the depths of his eyes, the love he held for her swirled inside them; there was no veil he hid behind. His love for her was visible and as deep as the love she had for him. The words twirled around her tongue and her mouth opened. Before the truth could tumble out, her eyes caught a shadow. True fear gripped her when she saw what surrounded them.
“Vivian? What is it?” Simon asked, noticing the frozen look on her face.
“Simon,” she squeaked.
They had appeared in seconds, like ghosts. Sharp stones tipping the long spears pointed at them, each one held tight in the hands of the dozens of natives encircling them. They remained steadfast while her eyes moved between them, not a muscle twitched as they stood like terrifying statues.
Simon sat up, the dagger by his side already in hand. He froze when he saw the men around them, his own eyes panning the circle that would allow no easy escape.
“Vivian. Don’t. Move,” he whispered.
Fear froze every muscle in her body. She couldn’t even nod. Though they weren’t tall or abnormally large, the wild look in their steel-blue eyes sent chills rippling down her spine. Leather loincloths were the only things covering their sun-kissed skin, though a few wore furs draped over muscular shoulders. Headbands wrapped around hair the color of golden wheat fields coiled into long cords that dipped down their backs.
She had seen other natives before on her travels with Viktor, but these people looked nothing like those she had encountered before. Their skin was much lighter, and their eyes... all the same shade of ocean blue. All but the ones now burning into hers... his were the color of ice, so light it appeared only the dark ring surrounding them defined them from the whites surrounding his irises. A headband with jagged animal teeth dangled around his honeyed hair and bronzed skin. A flash of teeth flickered beneath his snarl.
He shouted something in a language she didn’t understand. The force of his words sent her crashing into Simon’s arms. A long spear poked in her direction.
“Don’t fight them. Just do whatever they say. I will get you out of this.”
“Simon,” she whimpered as two men descended on them. They grabbed her by the elbows and yanked her to her feet. Another two pulled Simon up and bound his hands with leather strips. Her own were soon bound as well, and she sent a pleading look to Simon for his plan to get them out of this. The soft shake of his head removed the last of her hope. There was no way out of this. They were too far outnumbered.
They were kept separated while they were led down into the valley, Simon pushed out in front and Vivian kept near the back. The warriors marched in silence, even their footsteps seemed to make no sound. It was no wonder they’d surrounded them without so much as the snap of a branch.
She stared at the tattoos painted across the back of the man in front of her. While all were painted with similar marks, each man’s body held different symbols. Some had only a few, while others had dozens of marks across their backs, chests, arms, and even faces.
They made it through the valley until they walked beneath the shadows of the five guardians. The towering rocks made her feel minuscule as she passed under them. Even Simon looked small in the shadows they cast across the lush green plants covering the surrounding ground. The worn trail they tread on now was one these people must have passed many times, no doubt leading back to their camp. Her heart pounded in her chest when she thought about their fates... the realization they were now close to where the map marked the treasure sent it beating just a little faster.
They rounded the final stone. A small village of thatched huts appeared when she made it around the corner. Women and children of the same coloring, each wearing leather scraps of their own, shouted and raced toward the approaching group. Cheers rang out as the man with the translucent eyes hoisted Simon’s hand above his head, showing his prize trophy to all that now clamored around them. Native tongues melded into one loud rumble, each voice indistinguishable from another. Vivian fought back as hands reached out, touching her skin while they paraded her by.
They reached the center of the village and a herd of goats scattered to make way. Strong hands pushed her forward, and she stumbled, falling to her knees. Pain seared her scalp when they yanked her hair, pulling her back to her feet. The crowd formed a circle, with Simon now pushed to the center. Vivian breathed a sigh of relief when her own captor shoved her up to his side.
“Simon,” she whispered, casting him a glance. The confidence that took up permanent residence in his eyes was absent, replaced with a worry that deepened her own.
Hands pressed hard on her shoulders, forcing her down to her knees. The rocks she knelt on dug into her skin, the sharp stones threatening to rip her leather pants. They pushed Simon down beside her, his jaw tightening as he puffed out his broad, bare chest. Though he wore his leather pants, he looked naked without his daggers and sword strapped to his body. They were part of him, like second skin.
Drums shushed the mutterings of the people gathered around them. One by one they fell to their knees, each lowering their faces into the ground. Only the man with the lightest eyes stood tall when the old man stepped forth from the hut before them. The drums stopped when he appeared.
He wore a headband wrapped around his weathered skin with feathers that stretched up toward the blue sky. Leather strings lined with sharp animal teeth crisscrossed his body, cutting across the faded tattoos that left little skin untouched. Even his face, worn and aged, showed little of the natural tan color. Tattoos of blues and reds, once vibrant, were now pale reflections of the days long past. He looked at her with eyes the same translucent blue as the man standing before him.
The younger man muttered some sounds, followed with a series of whistles. He lowered his head and took a knee, bowing before the chief. Vivian tried to force her eyes down, but the intensity in the chief’s held her in a trance. He continued toward her, stepping past the warrior kneeling beside him. She finally ripped away her eyes, dropping them to the ground.
A gnarled hand reached out and touched her chin, lifting her head slowly and bringing her eyes back to meet his. A curious expression deepened the wrinkles around his eyes while he tipped her head, examining her more closely. She held her breath until his touch slipped away. His eyes moved to Simon who watched his every move, a snarl trembling on the corner of his lip until the chief’s hands released her face.
The chief stepped to Simon, who held his gaze. The worry she had seen in his eyes was replaced again with the hardened stare of the warrior she remembered. It was the same look she’d seen in his eyes the first time they were attacked. Raw, unbridled power pulsed through his stare. The chief grabbed his face, turning it like he had her own. With a rough push he released his grip, turning on his heel and shuffling back toward his hut.
When the chief reached the door of his hut, he turned and faced the flattened crowd. One by one their eyes peered up, each staring at the old man who stood before them.
He shouted, his voice stronger than she expected from such an aged man. His words sounded more like soun
ds than actual language, but when he finished, the crowd rose in cheers. With a nod, he disappeared behind the thatched door, leaving them in a circle of tribesman chanting and cheering.
In the commotion, Simon slid closer to her side. His arm brushed up against her skin and sent a warm wave of comfort through a body gripped with fear. The natives scurried around, ignoring the two captives kneeling in the center of their village.
“Simon,” she whispered, “I’m scared.”
“I know,” he whispered back. “I’m trying to find a way out of this. I’m so sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who found the damn map and insisted we go get the treasure.”
“It’s my job to keep you safe. I let my guard down and now you’re in danger. I should never have let my guard down. I’m so sorry, Vivian.”
The confidence in his eyes once again faltered. They filled with sorrow as he stared down at her.
“Simon, I would be dead several times over if it wasn’t for you. You have nothing to be sorry for. It is me who is sorry. I never should have gotten you into this.”
“Vivian—”
“No. If it weren’t for me you’d be off sailing the seas and laughing with your friends. I’m so sorry, Simon.”
He tipped his head and searched her face. “I would die a thousand times over before I would give up any of the time I’ve had with you. Just know if I don’t make it, I died a happy man beside the woman I love. A short life at your side is a far better choice than a long one without you in it.”
A lump swelled in her throat. Tears pushed up behind her eyes. She had been through so much, endured so much, and finally, just as she was going to have a taste of happiness, it would be ripped away from her. A cruel joke that tore at her soul.
“Simon, are we going to die?” she asked.
“I believe so.”
“What?” she spat, struggling to keep her voice down. “We are? Why would you say that to me? Aren’t you supposed to calm me down and tell me everything is going to be all right?”
His familiar smile returned. “I’m only doing as promised. Just two nights ago you made me swear that the next time we were in a life and death situation and I think we’re going to die, I don’t lie and tell you it’s going to be okay. I’m a man of my word.”
“I hate you right now,” she said, narrowing her eyes.
“I would be happy to lie to you, if that’s what you prefer. I’m only doing as you asked.”
“Lie to me.”
“Then Vivian, my love, we are going to get out of this.”
“How can you be making jokes right now?”
The playful look on his face shifted again. “Vivian, when I know we have no options left, I will fight until my last breath to save you. Right now, we don’t know if they’re going to hurt us, so biding our time is the safest option. The minute I know we are in true danger, I promise you, I will get you free or die trying. Considering there are hundreds of them and just one of me, the odds are not good. But you have my word, I will do whatever I can to see you free. And if I fall, just know I will be waiting for you on the other side. I’m going to be with you, in this life or the next.”
“Simon,” she breathed.
Several tribesmen made their way toward them, a large wooden cross dragging between them. Simon and Vivian both turned to watch them hoist it high in the air. She gulped when she saw the blood stains dripping down from the tattered wood. The cross settled into a hole already dug in the ground, the shadow towering over them.
“That’s not good,” he mumbled.
He cast his eyes back to hers, the fires now burning beneath them again.
“When I say run, you run. Do you hear me? You don’t stop. You don’t look back. You run as fast as you can back to the ship.”
“Simon—”
“Promise me, Vivian! This time you don’t turn back.”
Her hands trembled as she shook her head. “I’m not leaving you, Simon. I won’t.”
“You will and you will not look back. I need to hear you promise me.”
“I can’t.”
“Vivian!” he growled. “I will not have you die here. You go and live your life, have Viktor fund your dream, and when your time comes, many many years from now, just know I will be waiting for you on the other side. I love you, Vivian.”
Her lip quivered while she stared into his eyes, perhaps for the last time. Two men walked toward her and grabbed her by the elbows.
“I love you, Simon,” she said, as they pulled her to her feet.
A single tear slipped down his cheek before his eyes darkened like a storm brewing, tumultuous clouds crashing together while lighting cracks and brightens the sky. A roar ripped from his throat when he sprang to his feet, his shoulder crashing into her captors. They went flying, Vivian nearly knocked to the ground in his assault.
“Run!” he thundered.
The screams of the crowd rang in her ears. The world spun around her, a dizzying blend of commotion as the tribesman raced toward them. Simon disappeared beneath a mass of bodies, each jumping on top to subdue him. Vivian stumbled forward two steps, moving toward the opening they left. Her feet stopped, refusing to move. She turned back and watched as the bodies descended onto him. No. She would not run. She wouldn’t leave him. There was no life for her now without him in it. She stood still and awaited her fate.
Simon exploded from the bodies, dozens of men hurling backward as he rocketed out from under them. Warriors charged in with spears, crashing through the unarmed crowd that was losing their battle in restraining him. Her legs wobbled when she saw the spears drawn back. Simon, unaware of their approach, swung his bound hands taking out another group and sending them tumbling to the ground.
“Simon!” she screamed, the spears ready to unleash.
He froze, his enraged eyes softening when they connected with hers. Her breath held in her throat while she waited for the spears to fly, ending his life and with it all her dreams.
Bang!
The sound of a pistol echoed over the sound of the crowd. A tribeswoman screamed out.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bullets ripped through the crowd, the warriors spinning around away from Simon toward the origin of the shots. The crowd took off screaming, each tribe member scattering away as the gunshots dropped them one by one. Simon stood alone, the disbelief on his face mirroring her own. A bullet blew through his shoulder and sent him tumbling to the ground.
“Simon!” She raced against the crowd, pushing through terrified women and children and dropped to his side. “Simon!”
“I’m alive,” he panted, looking at the bloody hole in his shoulder.
“What is happening?” Terror trembled in her voice.
“At first I thought they were our men coming to the rescue, but this bullet hole tells another story. Even the worst of my crew aren’t such a bad aim they would hit me.”
“Then who is shooting?”
“Now isn’t the time to find out. We need to move!” Simon launched to his feet, grabbing her bound hands and pulling her up beside him. “Follow me!”
Her legs moved beneath her but she could no longer feel them. They raced through the village toward the woods promising shelter. When they reached the edge Simon stopped, turning around. Vivian followed his gaze. Cresting the hill above the village was a wall of men dressed in blue and red. Standing in the center with sword held high was Captain Cyrus.
“Cyrus,” Simon growled. “What the hell is he doing here?”
A sea of natives roared as they raced up the hill toward Cyrus and his men. Simon and Vivian watched while the bodies clashed in battle. Blood flowed as spears and swords collided, ripping each other apart. Cyrus worked his way through the men, his skill with a sword apparent even from this distance. He paused between swings, his eyes turning to where they stood. A shiver snaked down her spine when they locked eyes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“VIVIAN, WE NEED TO–”
“A weapon. How kind.” Simon smiled, eyeing up his spear. He leaned down and pressed his wrists to the carved stone tip and sliced through his bindings. He sliced open Vivian’s restraints before leaning down and plucking up the shield lying beside the dead man.
Another man sprang from the bushes. Simon caught him by the throat and slammed him down to the ground. A quick plunge of his spear and the native gurgled his last breath. Simon pulled the spear and sword from his hands and turned to Vivian.
“Now we are both armed. Aren’t they thoughtful?” He smiled.
Her face was anything but amused, the color long drained from it. Eyes wide with terror searched his own.
“Vivian,” he whispered, stepping forward and pulling her into his arms. “Stay with me. I’m going to get you out of this. Are you hurt?”
He stepped back and searched her face.
She shook her head. “No. I’m all right. And you? Simon, you’re alive.” Tears burst and flowed freely down her cheeks. “I thought you were dead. When you were under them all... I thought you were dead.” Her voice faded off.
“You won’t be rid of me that quick it seems.”
“They shot you! Again!” She reached out and touched the new hole in his shoulder.
“It went clean through. Nothing seriously damaged. I’ll heal up in no time. Just like this one.” He gestured to the wound still healing on his chest, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in it his recent rumble had caused.
The sounds of the battle pulled his attention away. The clashing of weapons had softened, one side was losing though he wasn’t sure which one. His best guess was the natives were ill equipped to compete with Cyrus’ well-trained men.