“Tell me, Lady Cara,” said the baron as he wiped his eyes and leaned forward eagerly. “How did you come to rescue the canniest mercenary this side of the Inland Sea?”
Cara looked down, afraid to answer.
“We’d been captured with a group of men and taken to the Black Keep from Telsedan,” Archer supplied. Cara looked up at him, and he gestured for her to finish the story.
“My father…I mean Sidonius, takes men from the bordering lands for sacrifices,” Cara said as plainly as possible. “When I met the captain and Archer, they were next to die. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“You say this Sidonius is your father?”
Cara nodded, though it wasn’t actually true.
Khoury continued, “The powers he used were obviously from the Far Isles. We were hoping your sorcerer might have some knowledge of him.”
“Perhaps. But why do you care? He’s in the Keep and you are here.”
“After our escape, we fled to my people for shelter,” Archer explained.
“But Father wanted me back. It never occurred to me that he might,” she said in a small, sorry voice. “So he sent giants to find me.”
“Chieftain?” Wallace looked at Bradan for confirmation.
“Indeed, we escaped a giant raid,” Bradan said. “Many died. Those who survived sought refuge elsewhere. I cannot allow them to return until Sidonius is stopped.”
“So this sorcerer, Sidonius, sacrifices men on a regular basis and consorts with giants?” Wallace asked carefully.
Cara nodded.
“And you, Khoury, have stolen his only daughter?”
“Yes,” Khoury said.
Wallace scrubbed his face with aggravation. “What were you thinking, man? Stealing women is beneath you.”
“I asked them to take me with them,” Cara interjected. “I couldn’t stay there. And after the giants, they were kind enough to help me flee south through Foresthaven to come here.”
“Foresthaven!” Wallace eyed the four of them skeptically. “Is this a joke? No man passes through Foresthaven.”
“Well, we had a little help there, too,” Khoury admitted.
“I’d have you executed for lying if I didn’t know you so well,” Wallace said.
“Spoken like a true lord-of-the-manor,” Archer quipped sourly.
Wallace ignored him. “Any news of the sorcerer since?”
“His agents tried to kill us on the road two days ride west,” Bradan supplied.
A pregnant silence hung over the table. The baron’s face clouded. “Assassins. Two days’ ride from the Eagle’s Gate?” Cara sensed his simmering anger as he turned on her. “Many daughters flee their fathers, Lady Cara, but yours seems unusually interested in your return. Why?”
Cara shrank beneath the baron’s piercing stare. “I…I don’t know,” she stammered. How could she explain Sidonius’s need of her?
He stared at her hard as if trying to see through a thick fog. “Are you a sorceress?”
Cara didn’t know what to say.
“She is a healer, a powerful one,” Bradan said. “That’s why he wants her.”
The baron accepted Bradan’s reason without question. “And how does he continue to find you?”
“We’re not sure,” Khoury said.
“So,” the baron said, “he might know she’s here?”
Khoury was silent at first, and Cara could feel his reluctance to answer. “Perhaps,” he admitted.
Wallace stood up swiftly, his chair clattering to the floor. “What treachery is this?” He pounded the table with his fist. “I trusted you, and you come to my home with an angry sorcerer sniffing at your heels? I can’t help you with this mess, Khoury. Friendship be damned! I want you gone within the hour.”
Behind him, Cade scowled but placed a calming hand on his lord’s arm. “Baron,” he soothed, “Captain Khoury would never place us in direct danger. Would you?” The sharp-faced advisor caught Khoury’s steady gaze as the baron began to pace, taking deep breaths.
“Of course not.” Khoury was calm as if he had been prepared for this storm. “Wallace, I would never risk your position here. It’s Cara he’s after and, as you said yourself, Far Islanders dislike attention. Whatever he will attempt, it will be covert. If your guards don’t intervene, they should be safe.”
Baron Wallace walked up behind Cara. His hands gripped the back of her chair. “And what if I took her to him myself? Many fathers pay generous ransoms for the return of their daughters. Perhaps he will assure the safety of my city.”
Cara froze in her seat.
“Don’t be a fool, Jake,” Archer said coolly. “He won’t guarantee you anything.”
“All I’m asking,” Khoury interjected, “is that you find out what your sorcerer knows about Sidonius, if anything. Either way, we will leave Iolair by tomorrow evening.”
The baron contemplated Khoury’s request for a moment. Cara could see his mind working out his options. “Where will you go?”
“The less you know the better,” Khoury said.
Wallace sighed. “I have great affection for you, Khoury, you know that. Everything I have is because of you. But this is troubling. I can’t promise anything more than I will think on it. After tomorrow you will leave, and I don’t want to see you here again until this mess is settled. Is that clear?”
“Very,” Khoury murmured and stood to bow as Baron Wallace strode out the door he had come in. Malcolm scowled at the two mercenaries for a moment, shaking his head and muttering something obscene. Then he followed Wallace.
“That went well,” Archer said sarcastically.
“Now what?” Bradan asked.
“We wait for morning.”
The doors opened, and Nadja beckoned them to follow. As they wound their way to their rooms, Khoury suddenly ducked into an alcove and pulled Cara along with him. His hands slid around her waist and pulled her against him.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“This castle is the safest place we’ll be for a while. I don’t want to waste it.” He pulled her close and kissed her neck under her hair, sending heat to her belly.
“But the visions,” she whispered, wanting to feel his lips but afraid of what she’d see.
“You stopped them before.”
“And the next day it didn’t work.”
“I have an idea,” he said cautiously as he cradled her face in his hands and leaned down until their lips almost touched. “Trust me?”
She’d seen him at his worst and yet she still wanted him. “Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
His lips touched hers gently and her power flowed, tumbling her mind with his memories. A house, music, dancing and over it all the bubbling laughter, but she feared the memories that came next, the screaming and the blood. She tried to stop them, but her power once again refused her request. Then she felt him inhale deeply, gathering his own power like he had in his dream.
He murmured against her lips, his breath mingling with hers. "STOP" The word was heavy with power, sibilant and thick. It tingled in her ears and flowed along her tongue.
"STOP THE VISIONS," he said, more sure this time. The words were denser, stronger. And the memories obeyed. It felt as if he’d dropped a boulder in the stream of her magic, blocking the flow. Her mind was blissfully silent. She knew nothing but his lips on hers and how his heart pounded beneath her hand.
He tensed and pulled back. “How do you feel?” His voice was tender as he cupped the angle of her jaw, his thumb caressing her cheek. His blue eyes searched hers, for what she wasn’t sure.
“I’m free.” She almost laughed. Running her fingers through his dark locks, she pulled him closer. He kissed her until she was drunk with it. His hands slid down her hips, then he pulled her up to straddle him, pressing her back against the cool stone wall. Heady with kisses and eagerness, she slid her hands under his shirt, caressing the battle-scarred skin.
He dropped his face away with a chuckle
, hands braced against the wall. “We do have rooms, you know. Perhaps we should use one.”
“Probably.” She felt giddy as he lowered her to her feet. He growled playfully and tugged her dress off her shoulder to kiss the tender skin of her collarbone. Then he stopped, staring at the three vertical lines that were all that remained of her journey wounds. He must not have noticed them in the dark by the lake. But now, his brow furrowed as his thumb traced the parallel scars on her shoulder.
“A long story,” she said, “but not one for tonight.” She distracted him with a kiss. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her back out into the empty hall. She noticed a tapestry across from the alcove that she hadn’t noticed earlier. A large beast menaced two children, one defending the other with a small knife. The scene struck a chord in her.
“Wait. Take me to the stables first.”
He looked quizzically at the tapestry and then back at her.
“I need to talk to Falin,” she explained.
“Can’t it wait?”
“What if she’s gone tomorrow?”
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Only if you promise to be quick.”
She nodded, and he took her by the hand and led her back the way they’d come. Outside, night had swallowed the city leaving only a few souls wandering the streets. Just beyond the tall hedge, Khoury stopped at a large wooden structure that smelled of hay and animals. He opened the door for her and followed her in. “I’ll wait for you here.”
She stretched up and kissed his cheek, then hurried down the aisle nursing the confidence their passion inspired. Stableboys slept on pallets in the dimly lit aisle. She sensed the familiar minds of their horses near the far end and found the Huntress there as well, lounging on two bales of hay pushed up against the box stall that held her gelding and Khoury’s. Falin’s armor was propped against the wall, only a sleeveless cotton shift covered her linen-wrapped torso. The gelding was nuzzling her tangled tresses and a trio of kittens tumbled across her lap.
Cara waited in the shadows, not knowing what to say.
“You’ve come this far, rabbit. Don’t hide now,” the Huntress called, not lifting her eyes from the tiger-striped balls of fur attacking her hands.
Cara stepped forward. “Huntress, I…” Again, words failed her.
“You’re sorry. I know.” Falin’s green eyes held unexpected kindness. She was far less imposing without her leathers.
“I was afraid you’d leave before I could—”
“Mend the bridge?”
Cara nodded.
Falin snorted. “Funny, Archer thought I’d leave before morning, too. And I’d thought the captain was the only one who had no faith in me.”
Cara didn’t know what to say. The silence lengthened between them. “I shouldn’t have stopped you. I just…I vowed there’d be no more death.”
Falin laughed. “How could you promise such a thing? It’s the nature of things to die.”
“But death is wrong.”
“Death keeps the balance. Those who cheat death are violating the very life they seek to preserve.”
“Then it’s killing that’s wrong,” Cara temporized, crossing her arms with uncharacteristic stubbornness.
Falin pushed the kittens away and stood up with a surprisingly patient smile. “Yet you eat the game I kill.”
Cara huffed but had no answer.
“Not all death is bad.”
“Yes, it is,” Cara said, memories of dust and heat flooding her mind.
“Dying for a reason is far better than living without one,” the Huntress said.
“I suppose you’re ready to die?” Cara felt anger surge.
“Every time I draw my sword,” the Huntress said with such seriousness Cara couldn’t meet her gaze. “I was ready to die for you on the hill. Ready to die when I saved your captain.”
That, too, had been at Cara’s insistence.
Falin touched Cara’s arm softly. “But it would have been a death of my own choosing, Sister. And that makes all the difference.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Tears stung her eyes, but Cara refused to let them loose.
Falin walked over to the stall and stroked the flat planes of the gelding’s face. “Sorchia used to tell me that promises made while drowning in the dark will turn into the chains that keep you under.” Falin’s face was almost wistful as she talked about Sorchia.
Cara didn’t know what relationship Falin and the priestess had, but it was suddenly clear what Falin risked letting Rebeka go. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”
“Who?” Falin turned.
“Sorchia.”
The Huntress sat back down on the hay. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t change it. If anything did happen, I swear by the Thorns that Rebeka will die on my blade.” Falin’s hands clenched in anger.
“But didn’t you just say—”
“I’m not drowning,” Falin said. “And even if I was, this is a chain I can live with.”
“So you’re going home?”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“You.”
“Do you want me to say I need your help? To grovel?” Cara asked.
“No,” Falin said, “what I need is your promise.”
“Promise?”
“Never again to come between me and my prey.”
So Falin sought the same reassurance Khoury had. Cara could live with that. “I promise.”
“Good.” Falin smiled and settled back down onto her hay bed. “Now, go find your captain. You’ve better ways to spend this night than here with me.”
IS THERE PEACE?” he asked as Cara tucked herself into his arms though he already knew. Voices carried easily in the quiet stable. That the Huntress treated Cara like a little sister and was willing to face Sidonius earned her his gratitude. Falin was wrong about him though; he did trust her. He trusted her to watch out for Cara if he failed.
Standing in the dim light, Cara clung to him, breathed him in as if fearing there would be no tomorrow. And though he felt the same, he refused to dwell on it. He wrapped his arms around her small frame, savoring the affection that was sure to wound him. Life seldom took pity on unguarded hearts.
“Take me back,” she whispered, and he led her out into the night. The captain knew Wallace’s castle well having spent a summer and most of an autumn ensuring that the young insurgent ruler had a secure foothold. He was proud of the changes Wallace had wrought. The man was a far better administrator than mercenary.
The captain led Cara to a different hall in the eastern wing. Now that they were in the city proper, the danger of spies was greater but the danger of immediate harm was less. He paused at the door. “Am I invited?”
“I don’t think I can unlace this thing without you,” she said, her playfulness returning and she slipped through the door with him close behind. “Wait, this isn’t my room,” she said as he locked the door behind them.
“I know. This is safer.”
She frowned at the reminder of her precarious position. “Whatever you think is best,” she said, and then began pulling the pins from her hair with nervous frustration. Her efforts did little more than tangle it further.
“Here, let me.” He took her hands in his and kissed the tip of each finger. “Trust me. I’ll keep you safe.” Then he deftly released the plaits and tangles and spread her hair over her shoulders like a pale cape. As he stroked the satiny curtain, she sighed and leaned into him.
Cara wasn’t wrong about the laces in her dress and it took far too long to strip her to her shift. He laid her on the bed, banked the fire, and slipped his knife under the pillow before crawling in naked next to her. Though they’d made love once before, he wanted more than consummation. He was hungry for fulfillment, like a last meal before the axe.
He kissed her face, her eyelids, and the end of her nose, making her giggle. Her scent reminded him of rosantia, a humble mountain flower, and the spring waters of Hawk Valley. He drew in hi
s father’s voice with a breath and suppressed her magic with soft words, then he pressed his lips to hers, feeling her relax.
Growing up, his talent had always felt like a violation but here, now, his power was a gift. To both of them.
He reveled in the feel of her skin as he slid her shift off, taking time to kiss every inch of her: Fingertips to neck and toes to hips. Emboldened by passion, her hands traveled where they willed, wringing small groans of pleasure from him. Then he heard the sharp intake of breath as she found the scar that wrapped around his right side to his back, the place that birthed his worst nightmares. She hadn’t noticed it in the darkness of the lakeside. Fearful of her reaction, he distracted her with artful hands and passionate kisses until they surrendered to each other in the deep of the night.
KHOURY WOKE TANGLED in pale hair and delicate limbs while the sun still only dreamed of the day. Without waking her, he slipped from the bed and dressed hastily. Slipping out into the hall, he locked her door and headed back to his own room, key in pocket.
Khoury had instructed Archer to go to the Eagle’s Nest after their meeting with Wallace. He needed allies and supplies. On the bed were a note and a small sack of coin. When he read it, he smiled. Archer had found Violet as well as Roger Ellis, another trusted Sword and one of Khoury’s best tacticians. After the captain’s disappearance from Telsedan, the two of them had apparently taken the Swords to honor the arranged commitment to an eastern lord, putting down a minor uprising. Vi reported that casualties were higher than expected but nothing to worry about. She’d released the men on furlough until Khoury’s return but a score of cavalry had stayed in Iolair to spend their wages at the summer festival in two weeks. She would meet the captain at the Eagle’s Nest sometime that day.
Khoury’s shoulders relaxed as he burned the letter. It gave him confidence knowing that he was surrounded by his own. He grabbed his swords and the coin and returned to Cara, grateful that by nightfall he’d be back in armor.
The next time he woke next to her, the sun had burned off the mountain fog and his stomach was grumbling.
“I’m hungry, too,” Cara murmured in his arms.
Quest of the Dreamwalker (The Corthan Legacy Book 1) Page 29