“No – no, you’re not bothering me,” he replied quickly. Coughing loudly, he settled his gaze on her, awkward and uncomfortable. “I just… how can you not be concerned about your appearance in my presence? We are alone in a room and you… are all but naked. Have you forgotten the things I told you?”
“Are you still embarrassed by the fact that you have had inappropriate thoughts about me?” she chuckled. It amused her, for some unknown reason; to think that Callum, her best friend since childhood, had considered her so intimately. Her mind had played the same tricks over their time together. It was harmless. She found no reason for him to continue his strange bashfulness. Unless… could it be that he still held such thoughts about her?
She took a step closer, leaving nothing more than a small gap between their bodies. His muscles tensed at her approach. Rigid with obvious discomfort. “That does have something to do with it, I suppose,” he stated quietly. “It doesn’t help that you are an attractive woman. Friend or not, any man would find it difficult to keep his wits about him with you dressed the way you are.”
Her own heart raced at the closeness of their bodies. She could feel an almost electric pulse between them the way she’d felt that night in the desert when a lapse of better judgment caused her lips to seek his. Breathing heavy, she tried to force herself to remain still, not wanting to make it known that she was having difficulty maintaining composure. A soft brush of his fingers on the bare skin of her waist sent shivers through her spine. She needed to get away from him. There was no concern of anything happening while Callum suffered from the wounds inflicted upon him by the divastru, but she couldn’t risk them kissing again. It would only confuse things more, and now was not the time for complications.
“If you weren’t so injured, I would consider teasing you more about that,” she said with forced dismissal, stepping back to let Callum’s hands fall away from her hips. Air seemed to flow more easily into her lungs. “All joking aside, you need to know what was discussed with King Ihklos.”
“Yes. Tell me about that,” he nodded, turning to move toward the bed. With a series of pain-filled grunts he lowered himself onto it, twisting his head to stare at her expectantly. “Is he going to assist us in getting to the islands?”
Oh, how would she tell him the price? He was sure to argue her participation in the hunt. Especially with him not being well enough to be at her side. “He is, yes,” she said, unable to conceal her hesitance. Her hands began a constant fidget, fingers clasping and unclasping in front of her. She was frightened enough by the thought herself without having to find a way to console Callum with false guarantees of her safety.
Callum watched her, forehead creased with every twitch of Aiva’s hands. “Why do you look so nervous? Is there reason to doubt his agreement?”
“No, I believe he’ll keep his word,” she nodded, scratching her head absently. “I just… it will be a few days before he can spare the men to take us. In that time, there are merely a few things I must do before the final arrangements are made.”
“What things?” His voice was low. Quiet. He was preparing himself for the worst. It didn’t require words for him to realize something was wrong.
Whatever discomfort ailed him upon her entrance, he no longer appeared afflicted by, his eyes focused on her with concern. Taking advantage of the release of tension between them, Aiva moved quickly toward the bed, kneeling at his side. She didn’t want to tell him anything while so far away. Carefully she lifted his hand in hers, trying to avoid staring directly into his worry-filled gaze. “Every year the Tuniron warriors hold a hunt in honor of King Ihklos’s father. Uttae says the hunt has been conducted every year for as long as he can remember. It was while on this hunt that Ihklos’s father was killed, which is why they now hold it in his memory. As the current king, and having no heirs at this time, Ihklos will not be participating in the hunt. Instead, he will act as a judge to declare the winner when the warriors return from the jungle.”
“You are getting away from the point, Aiva,” Callum squeezed her hand gently. “It matters little whether or not the king participates. What does this hunt have to do with us?”
“It has nothing to do with you, honestly,” she replied, sinking against the side of the bed. “King Ihklos is aware that your injuries require you to remain off your feet. As I have recovered from the worst of my wounds, he has challenged me to partake in the festivities. I am to accompany General Uttae. If I can impress King Ihklos with my skills, he will see to it that a boat is arranged to take us to the islands.”
Callum’s eyes opened wide in shock, the umber shade flashing brightly with an underlying anger Aiva was unaccustomed to seeing there. “He what?” Callum exclaimed. “How can he possibly require such a thing? Does he not realize the repercussions of you being injured in the process? If our parents find out that he refused to assist us unless you placed yourself in direct danger, they will be furious!”
“He didn’t refuse, exactly. Even if I fail to impress him during the hunt, I imagine he could be persuaded to see us to the islands.”
“And if you die? What then?”
“Then I guess he will only have to provide transportation for one of us.”
“I will not allow this,” Callum stated flatly, his muscles tensing to sit up, prevented from doing so by Aiva’s hand reaching out to hold him down. Through her fingers she could feel the pounding of his heart. He was enraged. She wished there was something she could say to calm him. “Where is Uttae? I refuse to lie here and let you go off to die in the jungle.”
“What are you going to do, Callum? Fight with the King?” Aiva laughed miserably. “You’re in no condition for that. In fact, you should consider yourself lucky that your injuries keep you bedridden. Had you been in better health, you would have been requested to join the hunt as well.”
“Lucky? How is this lucky, Aiva? With me laid up in bed, you will be out there alone! I am powerless to protect you.” Frustrated, Callum shook his head, staring down at their joined hands. “You don’t seriously intend to go through with this – ”
“What would you have me do? Strand us here? We don’t have that kind of time.”
“I’m not willing to risk your life to spare a week of travel.”
“But I’m willing to risk it if that week of travel returns us to our parents and helps to get my sister out of Ireni’s wretched hands.” Drawing in a deep breath Aiva laid her head against Callum’s shoulder. There was nothing she could say which would ease his concern. All she could do was let it be known that she had made up her mind and he had no choice but to accept it. “If you show enough improvement to General Uttae by the day of the hunt, he will allow you to travel with us to the King’s palace. You would be left with Enokih to help tend any wounded warriors. It’s the best I can offer. The only other option would be for you to remain here.”
Tilting his head back Callum gazed at the ceiling. He was defeated. She could tell by the dim glow of his eyes that he knew further argument would get him nowhere. “I guess I should be content that you have at least arranged that much for me,” he said quietly. “What can we do to guarantee my body is acceptably healed in time for this hunt? I don’t care what it takes.”
Aiva’s face brightened at his request. Yes. She had almost forgotten. With Callum awake, her manipulation of the energy would be more effective. If she stayed consistent with the treatment, he would be healed enough to travel to Ghaient with minimal discomfort. “Lie down,” she stated firmly, situating herself on her knees, back straight, arms outstretched to position her palms over Callum’s midsection. “It may be a tiring task but, if you work with me, I think we can have you well on your way to recovery when Uttae calls for us to leave.”
Chapter Nineteen
Aiva sat nervously inside the gauzy curtain of the litter, peering outside every few seconds in wait of Callum and Uttae to arrive from the house above. For three days she’d worked herself to near exhaustion to assist the healing o
f Callum’s wounds. In the end it proved worth the effort. Uttae was impressed by the improvement Callum showed, no longer suffering the same excruciating pain with the slightest movement, the bruising visible still, but minimal. Now it was just a matter of how well Callum would handle the descent from the trees.
What was taking them so long? Uttae was a fast climber. He could have made it to the top and back again three times over since he had seen Aiva to the ground. She feared he might try to convince Callum to stay behind. If he didn’t return with Callum, she would argue him into submission. Rudeness mattered little. She refused to leave for Ghaient without him.
A soft crackle from the branches overhead caught Aiva’s attention, her eyes shifting to the trees once again. To her relief she could see Uttae swinging down from above. Callum clung to Uttae’s neck, a slight grimace visible on his features from the effort it took to keep his grip. Immediately upon reaching the ground Uttae looked him over, making sure Callum made the descent without exacerbating his injuries. Seeing Aiva seated within the canopy, Callum’s face softened, any sign of discomfort vanishing without a trace. “You look like a queen,” he chuckled. “Do you not walk the road to Ghaient?”
“I do not,” she smiled, tugging the curtain aside to motion toward the cushions. “And neither do you. General Uttae made it very clear that you are not to be on your feet for extended periods of time; so you are stuck in here with me.”
Callum cast a questioning glance at Uttae. Uttae smirked, saying nothing to argue Aiva’s statement. “General, I think it would do me some good to get a bit of exercise…”
“I will tell you what does you good. Right now, that is lying on your back. Get in there with your wife. We don’t have all day,” Uttae grunted. In a swift motion he turned from Callum, making his way toward the front of the unit before Callum could protest. Heaving a sigh of defeat Callum stepped toward the platform.
As he came closer Aiva noticed something different about him. His tattered shirt had been removed, leaving his chest and abdomen bare, the remnants of blue and black flesh visible over his defined muscles. A thick leather belt was strapped around his waist, securing a heavy scabbard similar to that of Aiva’s, significantly larger in design. It was what Callum wore under it which sent her into a fit of giggles while helping him inside. Although the cloth was longer than that worn by the Tuniron men, his pants had been traded in for a loincloth, wrapped from a belt at his hips, hanging down to his knees.
“How did I know you were going to take pleasure in my humiliation?” he grumbled, slumping down on the cushions with a groan. “The only reason I don’t argue the garment is because of the atrocious heat.”
“I’m not sure why, but I prefer the dry heat of the desert over this miserable humidity,” Aiva nodded, rocking slightly at the sensation of the platform being hoisted into the air. She didn’t mind the thought of the trip. The first time she was faced with the journey to Ghaient, it had been daunting. Now, hearing Callum’s voice beside her, it was almost exciting. His presence comforted her. Knowing he would be nearby was the only thing she could cling to when considering what would happen once they reached the palace.
Lost in thought, Aiva slowly laid down on the cushions next to Callum, her head lightly resting atop his shoulder. He looked at her in confusion, saying nothing. She was too distracted to think about how strange it must be to Callum that she would lie against him in such a way. All she cared about was feeling him there. To know he was at her side. Soon enough the fear of the hunt would be nothing more than a memory and they would be on their way to Luquarr.
A soft chuckle from Callum pulled Aiva from her reverie. “Am I that irresistible with my shirt off?” he grinned
At his question Aiva realized the awkwardness of their position, finding it less uncomfortable while surrounded by Uttae’s men than it had been in the privacy of their room. Without the walls around them, it seemed almost comical. There was no risk of anything happening when so many eyes could see them. “Well, you do appear to have worked out a bit since we were children,” she nodded, tracing her index finger over the muscular lines of Callum’s chest. Even marred by the bruises, his physique was an impressive sight. One she had secretly admired since he walked into the lists to duel Edric the day of her parents’ celebration.
“A bit?” he chortled. “I was rather scrawny back then. It’s no wonder you knocked me off my feet during our last spar. I laugh when I think on it and realize how good I thought I was.”
“Are you saying you don’t think I could knock you off your feet again?”
“As I recall, we already tested that theory. The memory is a little hazy, but I remember a short spar with you after my return. I believe it was you who ended up on your back.”
“I wasn’t ready,” Aiva scoffed, wrinkling her nose in disdain. He was right. She remembered that day in the courtyard. A brief moment of relaxation amongst the chaos that had been their wedding plans. Callum had easily taken her to the ground. A shiver coursed through her spine to think of it. He’d been on top of her, lips hovering above her own when his father called him away. “We will have to spar again sometime when I am more prepared.”
“And with more clothing?”
She glanced down at their wardrobes, a quiet laugh escaping her. “What’s wrong? You don’t want to wrestle me in your little skirt?”
“It’s not a skirt,” he chuckled, his hand quickly snatching at Aiva’s as she reached down toward the fabric of his loincloth. “I don’t recommend touching it. I’m worried enough that the material will somehow blow away and leave me exposed in front of everyone.”
“I wasn’t going to remove it. I was curious how sturdy the fabric is,” Aiva shrugged. “If we’re going to challenge one another to a duel, it would be good to know whether or not it will be strong enough to survive the fight. Or could it be you are afraid I will take you down again and add to your embarrassment?”
“Don’t make me laugh, Aiva.” Callum placed his hands over his ribs, unable to repress the laughter despite his attempts, a grimace visible through his lighthearted expression. “I think the only reason you talk so tough is because you know I’m at a disadvantage.”
“No, I talk tough because I know I could take you down. To show my confidence, I will even wait until you’re healed.”
He turned his head to look at her, a faraway gaze in his glowing eyes. His laughter softened, easing the discomfort he experienced, no longer noticeable on his handsome features. “It’s like being back in the palace courtyard with my father. You were never willing to admit defeat. Some things never change. However, I think I could take you even while injured. I will fight you now to prove it.”
Aiva stared at him in disbelief. “Are you insane?” she gasped. “I couldn’t even begin to list the reasons why that is a terrible idea.”
“Try,” he smirked.
She stammered, fumbling over her own tongue in her attempts to speak. He was being ridiculous! They couldn’t fight. Not while in their current predicament. “Well, for one, we don’t have any weapons.”
“We have our hands and feet. You’ll have to do better than that.”
“The men will wonder what we’re doing. They’re watching us.”
“The curtain is drawn. What do they care?” he peered at her, challenging her to argue more. “I think I could pin you rather quickly. I doubt they would even know anything was happening.”
“I have no intention of going down that easily. But your ribs…”
“My ribs are fine. We have half a day on this road. A spar would pass a few minutes at least.”
Aiva rolled her eyes at his confidence. He was so certain that he could defeat her. She wasn’t the same girl he fought before he left for training. She was stronger now. Wiser to the ways of combat. Cadell had taught her well. Callum had no idea what he was getting into by challenging her. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you. The men will think me the cruelest woman in existence.”
“You suddenly do
n’t seem so sure of yourself. I think you’re afraid,” Callum grinned.
Shaking her head she sat up, poking his stomach playfully. “My hesitance has nothing to do with lack of confidence. Even with the curtains drawn, the men can still see us, in case you haven’t noticed. Don’t you think it would confuse them if we suddenly started to assault one another?”
Callum shifted his weight, sitting up onto his knees to face her, arms held out in front of him as if in preparation to tackle her. She flinched, scrambling to a more balanced position, extending her hands defensively. “Just once? For old time’s sake?” he raised his brow curiously. She stared at him, awed by his persistence. Inside she knew it was immature to consider the challenge. Her parents would never think to wrestle one another while on their way to meet with a foreign dignitary. But that was why she and Callum weren’t the King and Queen. She was still only a princess. There was no rule that said she couldn’t have a little fun while away from home.
Still, she felt compelled to argue. He was going to hurt himself. It would be impossible to fight Callum fairly knowing his injuries remained more severe than he let on. “Callum, no. We’re both sweaty and gross.”
“I’m not afraid of a little girl-sweat,” he chuckled. “You never used to be afraid of getting dirty. Don’t tell me you went soft on me while I was away.”
“Callum, you are absolutely out of your mind!” she exclaimed, the last of her words coming out in a high-pitch squeal at the sight of him lunging toward her. Scurrying out of the way she held out her hands, afraid to do anything. If she struck, she would hurt him. His seeming disadvantage worked to his benefit against her. She was limited in defense.
Their hands clasped, locked in a tight grip, both attempting to push the other back. She couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. For the first time in weeks she remembered what it was like to have fun. Not since the night she and Callum spent together in Phaezut’s garden had she allowed herself to let go and be herself, even if only for a little while.
The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Two: Beyond the Veil Page 54