Terin tipped his head back, observing a circling hawk overhead. “A distant cousin, but you’ll find most Tala can find mutual ancestors somewhere in the tree. In truth, you and I are more closely related than I am to Rayfe.”
He’d startled me with that and he knew it, with his sly smile. Of course I would have relatives among the Tala. How had this not occurred to me?
“At any rate, Princess”—he managed to make the honorific sound like a joke—“I came to inform you that your things have been sent ahead and await you at Annfwn.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
He cocked a head at me. “In the meanwhile, you might find yourself lacking in the usual comforts.”
I was silent, refusing to rise to his bait.
“Well, then,” he finally huffed. “My message is delivered. Good day.”
“Good day, Cousin.”
He glanced back, wily eyes sharp, considering. “Uncle. Ex-uncle, truly. Make of that what you will.”
I remember my mother’s hair had red in it. Dark red, like dying embers. In some lights her hair looked black, but when she let me brush it for her, by the fire at night, all the reds came out. Like Terin’s. Was he her brother? But why “ex”?
We rode hard through the day, keeping to the back roads, winding through the hills. Clouds gathered in the afternoon, promising more snow, yet we pressed on. I fingered my dark braid from time to time, seeing all the auburn in it now. Salena’s stamp.
Rayfe stayed clear of me, and besides Terin’s odd visit—I didn’t believe for a moment he’d stopped only to discuss my luggage—no one else spoke to me. The soldiers sometimes spoke among themselves in a language I didn’t know. Not the common language of the Twelve Kingdoms. Of course, Uorsin had decreed the language of Duranor—and thus Mohraya—the official common language only after the Great War. The Tala sequestered away in Annfwn would not have been subject to such a decree.
The light faded and fat snowflakes began to fall. Tiredness crept in around the edges of my vision. Even though I’d slept longer than Rayfe, it hadn’t been enough to catch up. Still, I wouldn’t complain, no matter what.
We rode on. And ever on. Hours into the night.
I’d never spent much time out at night. Princesses were usually expected to be tucked up inside the castle by twilight. So, other than gazing out my window, and my sojourn to Moranu’s chapel to sell out my people, I didn’t have much experience with the dark. That night I’d been preoccupied with my mission and my guilt. Now boredom led me to pay more attention.
I could see better than I’d thought I could. As I had on that night, too. On the rare occasions I caught a glimpse of something besides the flanks of the horses around me, I could clearly make out my surroundings. The overcast sky hid the moon, but the branches overhead stood in stark relief anyway. The men’s faces were shadows and shades of gray. They felt the press of the pace also, their profiles growing severe with exhaustion.
Finally, sometime in the small hours, at the bottom of a steep and winding road, we came upon a cabin. Lights shone from it and I dared hope we might stop to rest. We did. One of my guards swung down and without a word offered a hand to help me off my horse. At every other stop, I’d dismounted on my own. This time the stiffness was enough that I accepted the hand, creaking down like an old lady might.
“Thank you,” I told him, and he smiled at me, a surprisingly cheerful grin.
He took my little horse and I let him, content to be served this time. Rayfe and Terin stood deep in conversation on the threshold of the house.
“. . . cannot afford to have our people pinned against the border if she fails . . .” Terin’s angry words floated on the air. They fell silent as I walked up. I tamped down my surging irritation.
“You’ll find your things upstairs,” Rayfe told me. “That room is yours. Go ahead and sleep as long as you like. I’ll wake you—in plenty of time to eat before we leave.” His lips twitched with amusement.
“Thank you.” Here’s me, grateful for the smallest crumbs anyone tosses my way. They waited, clearly unwilling to resume their conversation until I left. I moved past them into the house and they bowed to me. A narrow stairway led to a second floor, and I started up. Turned back. “Am I the enemy?” I asked Rayfe, giving him a hard stare.
Terin looked away, possibly muffling a laugh. Rayfe blinked at me.
“That’s what I thought.” The bloodred ring he’d given me gleamed on the hand I rested on the plain wooden banister. “I’ve had occasion to train horses. They become what you expect them to be. You might keep that in mind, my king.”
I continued up the stairs, stripped off my clothes—I still had no night things and I hardly cared at that point—and fell gratefully into a deep sleep. Rayfe could go hang himself, for all I cared.
Cold morning light touched my face and I stirred, my heart thumping to think I’d overslept again, but Rayfe, warm and naked, cuddled me close again, murmuring soothing noises. I fell back asleep, obscurely comforted by the touch of his skin, trying to remember why I’d been angry at him.
When I woke again, the light slanted toward afternoon. I’d thought my mother had been calling my name, down haunting memories, but no, it was Rayfe. He leaned over me on one elbow, stroking my cheek and calling me Andromeda, the way he turned the syllables sounding like her. His black hair spilled around him and his skin gleamed golden in the light, shining with a masculine beauty all his own. He murmured my name once more and lowered lips to mine in a slow, burning kiss.
It flowed through me, gold as the afternoon sunshine, and I dampened for him, desire spiraling sticky and sweet. He drew back the down covers and caressed my breast, brushing the already peaked nipple with his thumb. I groaned, arching my back to fit myself better into his roughened palm. A swordsman’s hand.
He broke our kiss, trailing firm lips down my throat. The sharp stubble from his sleep pricked the soft skin there, sparking through me. Taking my nipple in his mouth, he sucked on it, hard, so sharply it nearly hurt, fanning the little sparks into flames that burst into fires throughout my body, like campsites of an invading army. He moved to my other breast, laving the nipple, then sucking and nipping on it, holding my rib cage in his large hands. I wound my fingers in his trailing hair, so silky, and held him there, whimpering my pleasure.
With a wicked smile, he pulled his hair from my grip and continued down my fluttering belly, spreading my thighs and positioning himself between them. I thought he’d kneel up now and plunge into me as before, and I braced for the brilliant flash of that penetration. But he slipped lower, nuzzling my furry mound and kissing the sensitive hollows that flanked my womanhood.
Tension rode me, though I was uncertain why. Then his tongue touched my inner folds and lightning struck. I cried out at the shock of it. Then again at the unbearable intensity of the pleasure. As he’d done to my nipples, he sucked on the pearl of my womanhood, then nipped at it, holding my thighs spread wide, though my hips threatened to leap from the bed.
In a roaring rush, the climax took me and I cried out a long call of pleasure. As I rode the wave of it, Rayfe climbed up my body, sliding into the hot glove of my sheath and thrusting, urging the wave onward. His skin stroked mine and I gloried in it. He wove his fingers through mine, pressing the backs of my hands against the bed, while he kissed me, long and deep, and I wrapped my legs around his hips, savoring the fading of the fire.
I opened my eyes to find him staring at me, the deep blue intent and serious. Wary.
“No, Andromeda, you are not the enemy.” He kissed me again, then withdrew from my body and my bed. He fetched a washbasin and cloths, apologizing that the water, again, was too cold. I cleaned myself, feeling awkward now, while he dressed in his fighting leathers with quick efficiency. Outside, the sun declined into late afternoon.
“Do we ride out, then?” I asked.
He looked over his shoulder at me, some of that dark suspicion still in his gaze, despite his words. “Yes. We cann
ot afford to be caught out with such a small company. You must understand this.”
“I do.” I took a deep breath. “I only ask because you’ve left it until so late in the day.”
“From now on we ride at night. The darkness is a friend to the Tala.”
I climbed out of the bed and began brushing my hair, standing naked in the center of the room. His eyes stayed on me, hunger warming them again. “You might have said,” I informed him mildly.
Surprised, he met my eyes again. “What’s that?”
Totally lost his train of thought, then. Useful to know.
“I’m not a child or an idiot, Rayfe. You assure me I’m not a prisoner. You could tell me your plan instead of expecting me to obediently trot along.” I began yanking on my clothes.
“You are angry again.”
“Still!” I snapped.
“You weren’t angry a moment ago.” He pointed at the empty and disheveled bed, as if it had somehow turned on him.
I sighed. “That appears to be different. You said we don’t know each other well. For some reason, that part works.”
He strode over to me and took my upper arms in his grasp, searching my face. With a hint of urgency, he kissed me, and my body hummed to life again. Oh, yes—this part certainly worked. His lips twisted in that half smile. “The animals in us know. Perhaps we just have to find a way for our minds to know, as well.”
“Is that how the shape-shifting works—the animal inside somehow comes out?”
“Once we reach Annfwn, I will teach you. Just, please, bear with me until then.”
His tone carried a note of apology, and I sighed, nodding my agreement.
“Come downstairs when you’re ready. I asked them to have a meal and hot tea waiting.” He cupped my cheek and kissed me softly, leaving me then to finish preparing. It occurred to me that already we had come to know each other, the little habits. He paid attention to what I liked, and I imagined many men would not.
Small things, then, could say a great deal.
As promised, tea awaited me, though the room was empty. Also an apple and another pastry like the one I’d eaten yesterday sat on a plate. The man had his moments, whatever his high-handed ways.
I ate quickly, certain they all waited outside for me, and left the dishes for whatever invisible denizens manned this house, pocketing an extra apple for the ride. Yesterday’s stops had been few and far between, with only a hard jerky to chew on. I walked out into the late-afternoon light, to find my sturdy little mare, saddled and ready, my stalwart guard nearly encircling her.
Biting back a sigh, I readied to mount her, dreading her brittle stride.
Rayfe’s hand appeared under my elbow, helping me up the half a length it took to be astride her.
“I understand you’re not fond of this mare.” He raised an eyebrow at me. His amused look. I searched out Terin, who grinned at me, a baring of the teeth more than anything.
“Rayfe—she’s all of, what, eight hands high? I’d put a ten-year-old on her. An inexperienced one.”
“So you feel insulted by this choice?”
I sighed. I’d asked him to explain, and I needed to try to do likewise. I put a gloved hand on his arm, and he started at my touch, as if he hadn’t expected it. “I know you don’t know me, but riding is something I love—something I’m good at. And here I’m riding through country I’ve never seen and it’s on a horse with a miserable stride and I’m surrounded by guards so that I cannot see anything at all, and—” And I feel so very alone. I stopped myself because the pitch of my voice had risen and I was suddenly perilously close to tears. I turned my face away, blinking furiously. Not what I’d wanted him to see at all.
“I understand now.” He took my gloved hand in his. “Come.”
I obeyed, if only so I wouldn’t cry. Rayfe led me to his big horse, bade me wait while he mounted, then held down a hand for me. “Can you reach?” he asked.
Now, this stirrup was much higher, but Moranu take me if I begged for help. I took his hand, put my booted foot atop his, and vaulted up. He caught me and laughed, a free and delighted sound that seemed most him. The men looked away while he kissed me, except for Terin, who watched with a dark and disapproving gaze.
“I should have known you’d need to see,” Rayfe told me, brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes. “Are you comfortable astride? Then let’s be off.”
He’d put it well. I did need to see. The restless tension of the day before bled away as we rode, harder and faster than before, without me burdening the short-legged mare. I was far too diplomatic to point this out, however. Though we rode through darkening forests, I thrilled to the changes in the trees, the road uncoiling before us.
At one point, perhaps near midnight, we topped a hill to find a valley spread before us. The moon had risen, waxing more than half-full. Silver light illuminated the valley, rolling in fertile meadows, green and untouched by the snow we’d left behind. Beyond, another ocean tossed at a distant shoreline. I caught my breath at the grandeur of it.
“You can see clearly?” Rayfe whispered in my ear.
I nodded, too awestruck to speak.
“Cat’s eyes.” He sounded approving. “See off there, where the craggy peaks go down to the ocean?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
“On the other side of those is Annfwn. Once there, we are safe. Or more safe. Things will be better.”
“What is this valley, then?”
“You don’t know?”
“How should I?”
“This is Mohraya. Behind those hills, just beyond, lies Ordnung.”
I stilled. I hadn’t known. Ursula would have, what with studying the maps. In all my journeys, I must have traveled a large circle, coming up, around, and behind the very piece of the country I’d always called home.
“You asked to know.” Rayfe sounded strained, and I twisted in the saddle to see his face, knocking my knee against the sword he’d strapped to the saddle. He looked wary, tense. I cupped his cheek with my gloved hand and urged him down to kiss me. He obliged, and I kissed him long and deep, the way he liked.
“Thank you,” I murmured against his lips. “It is good to know.” I turned again and studied the mountains, rearing against the silver sky. On the other side was an acid-green meadow I’d ridden into, not knowing how my life would change. “It looks so different from this side.”
“Everything always looks different from the other side,” he agreed, nudging the stallion so that the company moved on.
I looked to see his expression, his sword knocking my knee again.
“I’m sorry—I need to have it there, in case I must draw it.”
“I know,” I reassured him. How many times had Ursula told me to do the same? “Wait—why wasn’t it there when we rode to the cabin, that first night?”
“As you might recall”—Rayfe’s tone was dry—“there was a woman tied to my sword arm. The weapon would have availed me little.”
“Then you weren’t concerned about attack.”
“I posted guards, to hedge my bets. But that’s part of it, for the man.” He chose his words carefully. “To give up his defenses, his strength, to risk attack.”
“I see.” And I did—now. I hadn’t thought what it would be like for him to be bound to me. Hugh and his men could well have followed and slaughtered him while I was a dead weight on his arm. I wondered how close they’d been.
“Could you have . . . shifted, like that?”
“No. Not in such close contact with you.”
I hadn’t thought of Rayfe as saddled with me. With all his relentless pursuit, the triumph of his obtaining me as his prize, it hadn’t occurred to me that a foreign princess might not be his first choice in mates. Clearly some other reason drove him. The “Annfwn needs you” thing. He wasn’t Hugh, to have fallen in love at first sight. No, from what he’d said, he was relieved that we at least could bed each other in a satisfying way. In addition to his other agenda.
/> “Rayfe?” I asked him quietly.
“Yes, my Andromeda?” His voice was pitched low to match mine.
“Was there another for you? One you might have wished to wed, if not for . . . whatever this thing is that demands it be me?”
“No, my queen, it has always been you.”
“How could that be? How could you want a woman you’d never met?”
“None of us have met before we actually meet; isn’t that so?” He threaded his arm up under my cloak, to wrap around my waist and hold me close.
“Which doesn’t answer the question.”
I felt him shrug. “I saw you in the meadow and I knew.”
“You didn’t—you thought I was Amelia.”
He chuckled and pressed a kiss against my ear. “I didn’t know which daughter you were, but I knew you.”
“The animal in you recognized me. My blood.”
“Yes.”
“The wolf?”
His body tensed. “This is not the place to speak of such things.”
“I didn’t know you, in the meadow.”
He sighed and I realized I’d hurt him. “I know, Andromeda. I also know that you still don’t. I hope that will change.”
I had to ask. “And if it doesn’t? I have no wolf to know yours.”
“You have more than you know—you just fight it still. And we will speak of this later. Not inside Mohraya.”
I bit down on the rest of my questions, on the restless pacing in my heart that had started up again as we talked. Finally I had to say, “You’ve invested a great deal in something that may not be so.”
“You have no idea, my queen.” He barely spoke the words aloud. “You have no idea.”
17
We descended into the sleeping valley—warmer here—skirting the settlements whose names I likely should have known but did not. I could see why he’d timed it this way: everyone slept during these small, dark hours. Rayfe murmured these things to me, when I wondered that he didn’t worry about the farm animals sending up alarms. Very few animals are truly nocturnal, he said. Most are about in the crepuscular edges of night and day. Bats returned to their roosts. Even the cats had ceased chasing mice, resting for the dawn hours.
The Twelve Kingdoms: The Mark of the Tala Page 21