He continued, telling her that Zakaras had stumbled on Lexin and Cerise by the stream, and they were taken completely by surprise at the arrival of Cearan and Merrick. Using that to their advantage, the three Werre men brought the two Zakara down quickly.
And now they were here, tired and hungry.
Cerise had just finished the eleventh suture when she looked up at Cearan. “Come take his arm,” she ordered in a tight voice.
Cearan left his spot against the tree and came over to hold Lexin’s arm. Cerise scooted off the stump and walked a few paces away, leaned over and threw up.
“She made it further than I anticipated,” Cearan remarked, taking her place on the stump. “Do you wish something to bite down on?”
“Nay, just be done with it,” Lexin said. “And try not to enjoy it overmuch please.”
Cearan made a noise of amusement and set to work, quickly adding another twelve sutures.
When Cearan was finished, Lexin remained seated while Merrick blew out the lamp and gathered the medical supplies.
Cerise shook her head in amazement when she finally felt well enough to think straight. While Cearan worked, Lexin joked with Merrick.
The man must be in pain, she considered. She had felt the tenseness in his body when she had held his arm. The Werre people were some of the toughest people she had ever seen, and perhaps the most hardheaded as well.
A fire had been started before Lexin’s first aid, but no one had set up Cerise’s tent. She refused to let anyone do it, saying she could lay by the fire with the others.
Merrick produced bread and some apples from a pack for their late supper and then moved out of the light of the fire to take watch.
Lexin had already lain down and was nearly asleep. His now bandaged arm lay across his stomach, his other arm under his head. He had not bothered to put on another shirt and lay in just his boots and breeches.
Cerise gathered her blankets, and after glancing to where Cearan lay on the other side of the fire, went to Lexin’s side.
He did not open his eyes but knew Cerise was near. He pulled his arm out from behind his head and made room for her at his side. Once she was settled, he pulled her against his chest.
“Keep your questions silent for the rest of this night, Cerise. I am tired and sore and we both need to rest,” he said, his deep voice quiet and gentle.Lexin knew she was full of questions, many on things other than the Zakara.
“The innkeeper’s wife remembered the maidservant and baby,” Cerise remarked offhandedly as they rode the next day.
The comment, thrown out as if discussing the weather, took Lexin so unaware that he jerked Marlhowh to a halt. Cearan and Merrick were in front, and rode on several feet before they realized Lexin had halted. Marlhowh protested the rough treatment by trying to twist out from underneath Lexin.
It took him a moment to get the agitated stallion under control, cursing vilely as he did so.
“How did you learn that?” he asked, eyeing his stallion’s ears as they lay pinned flat against its neck. He knew the horse was not done protesting. It kicked out with a hind leg and Lexin snarled a warning to it. His horse finally subdued, Lexin glared at Cerise. “Well?”
Cerise hid her amusement at his grumpy expression. “Just in casual conversation. I may have mentioned looking for a long lost cousin, who came this way as a baby. A few subtle words and she remembered a woman with a baby, a wet nurse and two Werre warriors.
“You triggered that memory?” Lexin grunted. “Why did you not say this sooner, Cerise?”
“We had already guessed that she would come this way. Ki had reasoned she might have a wet nurse with her. I guess I didn’t think it important enough at the time to bring it up.”
Lexin moved his horse closer to Cerise’s. “Anything that you may discover is important. You need be careful of the information you disclose as well. I know not if anyone else has looked or is looking for this man,” he warned with a scowl. “You may put him as well as yourself in danger.”
Cerise dipped her head to him. “I understand, my lord. I will be more careful in the future.”
The angry look Lexin gave her caused her to straighten in the saddle. She knew he was deadly serious and not pleased with her slightly mocking tone.
He turned his horse and touched his spurs to it, saying something in Werren to the other two men as he trotted by.
Cerise urged Mitch and the pack horse she led to catch up, grumbling under her breath about the stupid things men, one cat man in particular, did and thought.
The group of four began to encounter more people and wagons on the road, causing them to slow their pace to go around them.
That evening, they entered a large township, bustling with people, shops, inns and taverns. In a town of that size, they had no problem finding an inn with rooms for the four of them.
Cerise was informed that they were in Lodehar, an independent township. There were many Werre from the clans there that had found employment in the militant forces that served to protect and enforce the laws.
Cerise later sat at a small table with her three companions enjoying roast chicken, vegetables, bread with butter and a rich, red wine. She took the time as they ate to study the other patrons of the dining area, tuning out the men’s conversation.
In one corner sat a group of dwarfs, dressed more as merchants than warriors. Cerise remembered how Drace described the race: waist high to him, broad-chested, and of course, all the men bearded.
At another table sat a group of lithe and beautiful men and women. Their fine facial features and telltale ears visible on a few of them, indicated to Cerise that they were elves.
There were a number of Werre from each of the kins: lion, panther and the rarer snow cats.
A sudden hush came over the entire room when two Zakara warriors entered. Even merchants and townsfolk were palming some sort of weapon at their entrance.
Cearan, Lexin and Merrick’s eyes met in some sort of unspoken message and the three men loosened their swords. There was no way of knowing if the two Zakara were connected to the three the Werre had killed.
In a casual move, Lexin put an arm around Cerise’s waist and pulled her closer to him on the bench, his sword arm still free. After the encounter the other night with the Zakara, Cerise made no sound, trusting in whatever her companions asked of her.
The two Zakara slowly walked through the common room, clearly enjoying the tension their presence caused. Being an independent town, the Zakara could legally be there as long as they abided by the same laws. But like any police force, Lodehar’s could not be everywhere at once. The Zakara and other troublemakers were well aware of that fact.
Lexin’s arm tightened on Cerise’s waist when the two wolf creatures slowed at their table. The Zakara’s scent reached Cerise and she stifled a gag.
The Zakara were tall and broad through the shoulders and chest. They had a wolf’s head and fur covered a human’s body and legs. The hands ended in nails like a dog’s. Their dress was heavy leather pants. Their clawed feet were shoeless. One was shirtless, the other in a blue tunic that was little more than a rag. However poor their attire, the weapons they carried were in excellent condition. Huge swords and bows were strapped to their backs and long daggers stuck in their belts.
One Zakara stopped to stare at Cerise who fought the urge to shrink behind Lexin, but instead she sat straight and glared back.
Lexin bared his teeth to expose his canines and gave a low growl. Cearan and Merrick did not turn but tensed in readiness, watching Lexin.
“Relax, lion man,” the one said in a low gravelly voice. “No troubles here.”
“Let us keep it that way,” Lexin returned, looking ready to move fast.
The Zakara spoke to his companion in the Zakara tongue and they moved slowly on through the tavern to take seats in a far corner.
“You should stay with Cerise this night, cousin,” Cearan said to Lexin, still w
atching the two wolf men.
The three men had taken a room with four smaller beds in it while Cerise had a small room to herself.
“Those—things—wouldn’t harm me in a place this full of people, would they?” she asked in concern.
“Most likely no,” Cearan answered. “But with Zakara, the only thing you can predict about them is that they are unpredictable.”
Cerise swallowed and leaned against Lexin. “Those are what you fought last night?”
“Yes, and if we had been slain, your fate would have been uncertain, little one,” Lexin informed.
“They’re huge!” Cerise whispered, now realizing just how lucky she was to be in the care of the men she rode with. The Zakara were easily six and a half feet tall and had the evil teeth of a wolf as well.
“So you do not object to my sharing your chamber then, my lady?” Lexin asked her, one side of his mouth turned up in amusement now the Zakara were seated.
“Oh no, all of you can stay with me while they are here,” she replied honestly, still gazing at the two.
“You will only have me. They are just the two drit after all,” he said and relaxed his arm around her, and then took a last drink of his wine.
Cearan laughed into his glass at that comment and Cerise’s disbelieving look in return.
“I look forward to sleeping in a soft bed this night,” Cearan said, setting down his wine cup. “I think we should all retire upstairs now.”
The four left their table and made their way to their rooms. Cearan and Merrick would be staying in a room directly across the hallway from Cerise and Lexin. They parted company in the hall.
“What does that word mean?” Cerise asked as she laid her gear down by the bed.
“What word do you mean?” Lexin asked, dropping his saddlebags near hers.
“Dit,” Cerise replied, sitting on the side of the bed to remove her boots.
In his rich voice, Lexin corrected, “Drit” correctly rolling the R. “It means excrement.”
“Oh,” Cerise said. She knew the legend of the Zakara, having heard it from Drace first, and then again one winter’s night when stories had been told at an evening meal.
The lion-god Arahtok had created the Werre to insure his peoples’ survival. His evil brother, Zakar, god of darkness, had attempted something similar out of jealousy, with the wolves, stealing their essence. It had been a doomed attempt resulting in the Zakara. Most races considered them an abomination. Vicious warriors, they were sometimes sought out as mercenaries. No one trusted a Zakara though, for there was never enough coin to ensure their alliance.
There was a knock at their door and Lexin went to answer it, admitting a stable lad with a large copper tub and two serving girls with buckets of steaming water. Once the tub was placed in a corner of the room and the water poured, they went for more water. While Lexin and Cerise waited, he sharpened one of his daggers.
“We will wait to leave here until we can travel with a larger party. I did not like the interest the Zakara gave you,” he said, running a wet stone down the dagger’s blade. Again the stone hissed down the metal.
Lexin looked up at her, his amber eyes unreadable. He continued to sharpen the dagger, his attention returning to his task, interrupted only by the arrival of more water.
When the servants were through, he latched the door securely. “You had best hurry before the water cools,” he stated and returned the dagger to its sheath on his side. Next he drew his sword, seeming to give it his full attention.
Feeling a little unsure, Cerise undressed and sat in the tub. A sigh escaped her as the water soothed her tired muscles. The steady rhythm of Lexin’s stone against the blade of his sword lulled her further.
Gentle fingers roused her from her relaxed state a moment later as they moved in her hair, undoing her braid. When Lexin finished, he moved away, his back to her.
“Lexin,” she began, but he waved her to silence.
“I cannot seem to help myself,” he said through gritted teeth. “I ache just to touch you.” He turned then to look at her. His expression was one of extreme frustration. “I will wait outside while you finish,” he ground out.
“I never thought you a coward, Lexin,” Cerise said as Lexin reached for the doorknob. Her words halted him in his tracks.
He turned and cocked his head. “I beg your pardon?”
“I didn’t stutter,” Cerise replied and gave him a haughty look. “You’re running from something that might happen between us—you’re scared.”
Lexin straightened to his full height, his voice like ice. “Has no one taught you it is foolish to poke a lion with a stick?”
Cerise felt as if something in her brain popped with her explosion of temper. She stood and hurled the rag she had been holding. “Damn you, Lexin!” she snarled.
Lexin caught the cloth as it slid down the front of his mail shirt. “It is too late, my lady, for I am already damned.”
The door closed behind him with a bang.
Chapter Nine
Cerise woke to arms sliding around her and a very large, very naked, warm body against her back. Unsure where she was at first, she tensed, ready to fight or flee.
“Shhh, ehmar,” Lexin whispered from behind her. “I am sorry, Cerise, for my words earlier.”
The tension went out of Cerise and she scooted back to be closer to him and she sighed as he nuzzled her neck. Spooned next to him as she was, she could feel his arousal against her bottom.
“You have haunted me as no woman ever has,” he whispered near her ear, his breath a caress in itself. She felt him chuckle. “I bear the scars to prove it.”
She turned her head slightly but couldn’t see him in the dark room. “Oh really?” she asked, her tone more disbelieving than questioning.
Lexin ran a hand down her arm to find her hand, and twined her fingers with his. “Really. I was leading a patrol through the hills to the north of Bellmore. We had found the raiders who had been taking cattle and harassing the tenants. I thought we had routed them all, that it was peaceful once more. I rode that day at the head of my men, daydreaming of the day I could touch you like this. I almost paid with my life for that inattention.”
He felt her stiffen once more in protest.
“Be at ease, little one. ‘Twas not your fault. I am not an untried boy, but I made an untrained boy’s mistake. I was lucky no one was killed. It is a lesson I will remember the rest of my days.” Lexin let go of her fingers and stroked her arm once more. “Perhaps I should give in to my desire for you, so that you will haunt me no more.”
Cerise took his hand and placed it over her breast, his hand felt hot through her shift. “Perhaps you should.”
Lexin gave a pained sounding groan. “You will hate me later, little one, for when I finish this task, I must leave Kismera.”
Cerise gasped at his words. “No, Lexin, please, you can’t leave. Kismera is your home. I don’t want you to leave and Cearan would be terribly hurt as well.”
“Cearan will be hurt if I stay.” Not wanting to continue, fighting the desire to tell all to this woman, Lexin sought to distract her.
His hand caressed her breast gently through her shift and then expertly unlaced the front, allowing his hand to dip inside. Flesh met flesh and his mouth found the sensitive area of her neck under her ear.
“You don’t fight fair,” Cerise breathed and arched back against him with a moan.
“I am not fighting you at all. I am making love to you if you will have me,” he defended, his mouth moving lower on her slim neck and his nimble fingers toying with her peaked nipple.
Cerise accepted him with a soft sigh. “All of you, Lexin.”
“As you wish, my lady,” he murmured against her throat.
Cerise tried to roll onto her back but he stopped her and trailed his hand down her side and hip. He caressed her thigh as far as he could reach and slid her shift up until he found the hem. In a matt
er of moments, between kisses and caresses, the shift made its way to the floor. He found to his pleasure she was naked underneath.
When his fingers came teasingly close to her center, Cerise whimpered, “Please, touch me,” and made as if to catch his hand to direct him.
“No,” he said with an erotic growl next to her ear. “Our first time was hot and fast. I am not so green I cannot wait. I have dreamed of this for sometime.”
He had bathed and shaved before he awoke her, and the clean, male scent of him filled Cerise’s senses. His touch was everywhere, his mouth following, his loosened hair dragging over extremely sensitive skin.
Her nails dug into his back, trying to pull him forward to ease the sweet pain he built within her. She whispered his name.
“Say that you want me, ehmar. Tell me that you want me as much as I need you,” he commanded softly.
“I do, Lexin,” she gasped. “I do. Please.” She arched under him.
Lexin moved to lie between her thighs and then barely entered her. One small movement and Cerise’s head went back and she moaned with release. Lexin thrust fully into her and then gave her a moment to ride the waves of it. When she went still he began to move slowly.
Cerise gasped as sensitive nerves were stroked again. She moved with him but he seemed determined to tease her mindless once more. When he finally allowed her to crest violently, he gave in to his own release, throwing his head back with the hot pleasure of it.
He had never experienced anything like it. No female had made him feel as if he might die with the intensity of the ending. It was something he could not understand, something he did not wish to ponder just now. He just wanted to savor the moment, savor the woman under him, who gave herself so freely to him. Even the pain in his injured arm was temporarily forgotten.
He rested his head on her shoulder, his weight on her as he struggled to breathe, his heart galloping in his chest. Cerise’s hand was tangled in his hair, her own quick breath warm against his face.
Lexin's Quest (Knights of Kismera Book 2) Page 7