Green, Sharon - Lady Blade, Lord Fighter.htm
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I grinned a littie at that, suddenly feeling that everything would work out in our rescue attempt. Even if Evon wasn't actively on our side, we could win if he wasn't against us. And once my father and sisters were safe, I had a fantastic adventure to look forward to, fighting in Evon's name, searching out his enemies and defeating them, traveling all over the world—
If I wasn't married off first.
That stupid, deflating thought came all by itself, ruining niy newly-arrived good mood and putting my fists to my hips in annoyed frustration. I could just see myself telling my father I couldn't marry because I'd been chosen by Evon to fight in his name; if he didn't run immediately for a healer to treat the fever I had to be suffering from, he'd lock me in my apartment in chains until it was time for the ceremony. And if I told him instead that Kylin was an enemy, he'd either refuse to believe it or rear back and refuse to honor the betrothal contract.
Which would bring him the sort of trouble I'd been trying to keep away.
But if I went through with the marriage and Kylin was named my father's heir, how long would my father live?
If I married it could mean my father's life, if I didn't he would be dishonored and disgraced. Whatever I did would be wrong, but 1 had to do something! I put my hands to my hair and closed them to fists, wishing I'd never answered the letter to come home, wishing I'd swung that piece of wood harder that morning. I'd been worse than a damned fool, worrying about what I did to someone who was an enemy! If I ever got another chance at him—!
"I knocked and I thought I heard someone say to come
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in," a voice suddenly interrupted, sounding faintly amused. "Was I mistaken, or have you decided to work for Oeran after all?"
I looked up to see Rull just inside the partially opened door, one arm high up on the door edge, die other hand a loose fist resting on his swordbett. His broad, familiar face had a grin on it, and his light eyes were moving slowly over me, giving the impression he'd never seen me before. I couldn't understand why he was inspecting me like that until I remembered that a shirt was all 1 had on, and it wasn't even buttoned. As strange as it sounds I would have been more comfortable if I'd been stark naked, a state Rull had seen me in a lot more often than once.
"1 think advanced age is starting to make you imagine things," I told him sourly as I turned back to the bed to reach for my trousers. "You weren't invited in, but you are being invited out. I'm in the middle of building a good hate for men and you're keeping me from it, so you'll just have to— Hey!"
"Hey, yourself," he said as he kept me from snatching back the trousers he'd suddenly pulled out of my hands, holding them behind him before tossing them away. "I warned you about being disrespectful toward your Fist leader, but female infants don't listen too well. Now you're going to regret it."
"Damn you, Rull!" I growled as he grabbed me, struggling to break the grip of his arms. I was in no mood to play games, but he didn't particularly care. He laughed as he pulled me tight against his leathers, giving me no opportunity to kick, but then the laughter died, his fist was in my hair, and he was kissing me the way he had before that odd trouble between us had started. It was something I'd been missing, something I'd thought I'd never have again, and I kissed him back with all the loneliness and misery I'd been feeling since I'd left him and the others. I'd been so afraid they wouldn't want me back again, so afraid I'd never find them even if I managed to get free to go looking . . .
"Well, now, that's what I call a properly enthusiastic greeting," he murmured when he finally let the kiss end, still holding me up against him. "It makes me more than glad we came after you, even beyond the fact that we'll also be there to fight beside you. By Evon, I missed you, you impertinent female infant."
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"Not nearly as much as I missed you," I countered, enjoying the feel of his leather where the shirt didn't cover me. "I know I shouldn't have left that way, but by the time I got over being mad it was too late to turn back. Obviously I've been too fuzzy-headed to ask this before, but— Why are you all here? I had the terrible feeling I'd never see any of you again."
"That would be the day," he said with a snort as I raised my head to look at him, his hand not at my hair sliding down the back of me. "You may be an infant but you're still one of us, and you don't give up one of your own that easily. And besides, I had a pressing reason to come even if the others didn't. I wanted to apologize to you for what I said—and explain why I said it. You feel so damned good, I know I was right coming after you."
His hand had found the bottom of the shirt and had gone under it to the bare flesh beneath, his touch as familiar as his face an4 a good deal more arousing. He'd had enough time to learn his way thoroughly around me, and when I gasped and tried to push free he only chuckled.
"The last time we were together you really wanted this/' he murmured, holding me still again while he continued to stroke me. "Are you trying to say you're not interested any longer?"
I wasn't able to say much of anything, barely able to squirm around in an effort to dislodge his hand, and then I was down on the bed on my back with him leaning over me. He was able to reach me a lot more easily that way, and while his right hand went back to stroking and his left took my hair again, his lips came down to stiffened nipples that the shirt had fallen away from.
"I love a woman who's uninterested," he said, using his lips and tongue between and around the words. "It's so much fun making her interested, or at least trying to. I don't seem to be getting very far with you."
The helJ he wasn't, and the hell he didn't know it. I moaned as I tried pushing his face and hand away, nearly drowning out his chuckling, but I was lost and just trying to keep from admitting it. Rull had almost always done that to me, using what he'd learned through the years to roll over any objections I might have, and I'd never been able to resist
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him. With all he knew he was just about the best I'd ever tried, and right then I needed his attentions badly.
"Evon broil you, what are you waiting for?" I finally gasped out, burying my fists in his hair as 1 began feeling the first of those shuddering chills he always brought. "If you take much longer, you'll end up stroking a corpse."
"With you, you can bet I'd notice the difference," he answered, his heavier breathing turning his voice husky. "Let me go, woman, or we'll both end up done."
It was really hard unknotting my fingers from his hair, but after a moment I managed it and he didn't waste any time. As soon as his swordbelt was gone he yanked his shirt off over his head and threw it away, then did no more than drop his lower leathers before coming back to me. He was absolutely enflamed, possibly even worse off than I was, and he surged into me with a groan that was all desire and nothing of technique. I grunted at the unexpected ferocity of the impact, beginning to rise up in protest, but his arms came to hold me while he thrust furiously, and his lips ended anything 1 might have said.
After a long while the mindless need seemed to loosen its grip on him, and he was able to return to his usual way of sharing sex. By the time it was over my body had been soothed and satisfied too, but I had also become even more aware of just how long a day it had been. When he let me go I just lay there on the frilly yellow bed cover, and he made a soft sound of amusement and smoothed my tangled hair back.
"It looks like old age is catching up to you, too," he said, looking down at me from where he lay propped up on an elbow to my right. "If I recall correctly, you used to have more enthusiasm left over. I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"I'm just tired," 1 answered with a brief headshake, reflecting privately that I hadn't been so much hurt as—unexpectedly disappointed, it almost was. Despite the less than usual beginning of our time together, Rull was still the best around; thinking there was—someone—who suited me more was stupidity, the imagination of an overtired mind, and nothing to waste time cons
idering for very long.
"If you're tired, then you'd better get as much rest as you can before we leave," he said, putting a hand to my middle and stroking gently. *'I think you understand now how much
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I really did miss you, and once this is all over I want to talk to you about a decision I've made. Trying to fight the decision was what caused me to jump on you the way I did before you left, but I'm not fighting it any longer."
He leaned down to touch his lips softly to mine, obviously getting ready to leave, but I couldn't let him do it. He'd said so much that it had become not enough, and I had to find out what he meant.
"Rull, I don't understand," I said, putting my hand to the muscled hardness of his arm. "What decision are you talking about, and what does it have to do with me?"
"Softy—once this trouble is all finished with, you'll be coming back to the Company and the Fist, won't you?" he asked, something really strange like reluctant eagerness behind the words. The sobriety in his eyes was just as strange, making him look very young and vulnerable and almost frightened. "I suppose I'll have to talk to your father first, to see how he'll take it, but I won't change my mind even if he disapproves. If we have to, we can all join a Company that's hired out in another kingdom in another country, and that way it won't matter how mad he gets."
"Rull, I still can't understand what you're talking about," I protested, for some odd reason glad that I was lying down. "I want to come back to the Fist once this is all over, but— Rull, I've been betrothed to someone, and I may have to marry him."
I hated saying the words like that, admitting out loud something that was almost made more real by the voicing of it. Rull seemed to freeze when he heard them, and when life and movement returned a moment later, he was no longer young and innocent.
"Who is he?" he asked, the demand hard and harsh and flat, his light eyes showing all the ice left over from the freezing. "Your father had no right doing that even if he is a duke. Who's the man?"
"He's—supposed to be a son of Duke Trame of Arthil," I answered, almost afraid not to speak. I had never seen Rull look like that before, and the chill in his eyes had no trouble reaching my flesh. "I've met him and I despise him, but I may have to marry him anyway. The situation is more complex than I can tell you, but my father's doing it because he
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needs an heir. I'm determined to think of a way out of the mess, but— Rull, what's wrong?"
"Wrong?" he asked, taking a deep breath that suddenly brought back the man I'd known so long. "Nothing's wrong, you just surprised me.-So you met the twerp and you can't stand him, eh? Well, don't you worry your head about it, we'll find a way out together. And after that there won't be anyone to stand between us."
"Between—us?" I repeated, my mind whirling in confusion as I stared up at him. "You do mean 'us' as in the Fist, don't you? You hate getting involved in anything permanent with a woman, so you can't mean—us."
"Infant girl, there's still a lot about men you haven't learned," he said, a grin starting as he raised a hand to stroke my face with one finger. "Some men spend most of their time running away from serious involvements, but one day they look up and see a woman they don't want to run from. At first it makes them nervous and they might even decide they're going soft in the head, but they still can't get their feet moving and don't even want to. They're caught, just the way you caught me, and that's the decision I made. 1 want to be caught, and as soon as we've left this place behind us we're getting married."
"Married," I echoed, feeling even sicker than the first time I'd heard that word, days ago from my father. "But— What about the Fist? And the others, the others will be upset. Jak and Foist and Ham ..."
"Our Fistmates won't be anything but happy for us," he interrupted with a laugh of pleasure. "My marrying you will keep you in the Fist until we can find a new fifth, and then you'll be able to step aside. That very night I'll pour your cup of Blue juice myself, and then we'll see how long it takes to get the first of our own Fist started. Oh, Softy, you don't know how I can't wait."
He pulled me to him and hugged me really hard, and then he decided he'd better go before he made me even more tired man I already was. I lay there just staring up at the yellow silk of the canopy over the bed while he dressed, was given one last kiss, and then he was gone with the door closed behind him. Only then did I close my eyes with a shudder, and turn to bury my face in the cover I lay on.
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We're getting married, Rull had said. I've arranged for you to be married, my father had said, you have to marry me, Kylin had said.
Wasn't there anyone in the world interested in what / wanted? Even just in passing? Rull had been ready to kill the man I was betrothed to, without making any attempt to find out if I wanted him dead. Kylin had said the King would ruin my father if I didn't go through with the marriage, and wouldn't care that the refusal was mine. The Law didn't allow for a woman's refusal, so even the Law didn't care. No one cared, and no one would ask, and I wished I had never been born. I didn't want to be an uncared-aboul female or a narrow-minded, one-sided male, or even a duck swimming in a lake. I wanted to be no one and nothing, and if I were really lucky I'd find that very desirable state before the end of the fight at the castle.
Kylin was able to keep his foul humor mostly under control until he was on the road to Gensea, but as soon as the monotony of the long ride began it was like a floodgate opening. He was still far enough away from the city for attack from bandits to be something of a possibility, but he had no time or patience for considerations of that sort. If anyone was foolish enough to attack him, they would not live long enough to realize the terrible mistake they'd made.
"Charity!" he growled under his breath, still seething from having had to be grateful and pleasant when all he'd wanted to do was curse at the top of his lungs and dismember dangerous living things with his bare hands. He'd never had to take charity in his life, not even when he'd first left home with nothing but his sword and a bow, but with his purse empty except for a few coppers he'd had absolutely no other choice. He'd needed a horse and he'd finally gotten one, the only one charity would supply.
"Horse!" he muttered with a deeper growl, glaring down at what he was riding. Nag would have been a good deal more like it, and only Evon's grace had kept it from being an ancient nag. The thing was a dirty gray in color with a black mane and tail, and it was just possible Kylin would have
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made better time on his own two feet than he was making on his mount's four. If he'd been able to pay for a horse it might have been a different story, but with no more than a few coppers in his hand . . .
"You have to see it from their point of view," Veslin had said after showing him the only mount that had been offered for his use. "They're grateful to you and the girl for having helped them with their problem, but they still have to think about their own survival. Very few of them can afford to be out the price of a good horse, which would happen if for some reason you weren't able to send the silver you were ready to promise. If 1 had the money I would be more than happy to lend it to you, but I'm just a guest in Indris' house. Why don't you ask my daughter? I'm sure she spends very little only because she'd like to have something to leave her sons when she's gone."
Sure, Kylin thought morosely, everyone spends very little so they'll have something to leave to sons who are earning Blade and fighter pay—and who might not live to inherit it. Indris probably wouldn't have hesitated giving him the silver, but where would that have left her, especially after the lavish meals she'd been providing for her guests? And what would happen to her if he did indeed end up dead before he could repay the debt? He wasn't a man who could ask a thing like that of a woman, not even for the best of reasons. Veslin didn't seem prepared to ask the favor for him—not that that would have made it any better—
and Kyfin had had the strangest feeling that the priest of Evon was particularly pleased with the joke of a horse he had brought back.
Which left him riding a nag with only a single gait, one best described as a stumble rather than a trot or canter or gallop. Kylin wasn't even sure the horse would make it to Gensea, but the horse appeared to be totally unconcerned. It continued along the road in its stumble, unimpressed with everything around it including its rider, sticking to its same, uneven pace. Kylin began thinking again about the Laws governing cold-blooded murder, and was grimly pleased to remember that they didn't usually apply when a Blade was the victim. Blades and Fighters were supposed to be able to take care of themselves, especially when it was one Fighter contemplating the murder of one Blade.
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If the Blade lived long enough for the Fighter to murder her. Kyfin felt that tightening in his middle again, that churning, gnawing fury he'd been feeling ever since he woke with a knot on his head. What in Evon's name had made the woman do that to him? And then simply take off, without waiting for the escort? His left hand curled into a harder fist around the reins, his mind writhing under the lash of the only reason that would come to him, the only reason supported by everything that had happened. The woman who was meant to be his wife was so repelled by him, that she would rather risk her life than stay anywhere near him.
"What am I going to do?" the young Fighter whispered, all anger and rage drained out of him, all other concerns buried by that single, most important one. He'd given his word to go through with the marriage, and he knew how badly Duke Rilfe needed an heir, but what about the girl? Tisah, his Tisah, the sort of woman who had only inhabited his dreams until he had actually found her at Gensea, a woman he would happily give his life for—and a woman who loathed the very sight of him, the least touch of his hand.