The Rose of Shanhasson

by Joely Sue Burkhart

  He did so immediately and even backed away to give her breathing room. Crouched in the shadows, though, he gazed at her, his eyes gleaming in the darkness of the tent. His teeth flashed in a very wide, cocky smile.

  :Why did you let him do that?: She tried to be angry at Rhaekhar, at them both, but failed. Mostly, she felt confused, shaken, and somehow betrayed. Tears threatened. :Why did you leave me with him?:

  :You need to know the truth.: Rhaekhar hugged her hard through the bond. :We almost lost you this day. No one will get through Gregar to harm you. No one, except possibly himself.:

  “Tell Khul that next time he should stay.” Gregar’s voice was rougher than usual, but she could still see the white of his teeth in the tent. The wretched Blood was thoroughly pleased with himself. “That was merely fun and games, Shannari. If you ever want to get serious, I insist that Khul remain to ensure your safety.”

  Shame flooded her and she rolled away from him, cradling her wounded arm to her chest. If she could love Rhaekhar enough, like a normal woman would love such a tremendous warrior, then Gregar wouldn’t have a prayer. He wouldn’t be here tormenting her now. “There won’t be a next time.”

  :When you’re ready to face the truth, invite him to share our blankets, na’lanna. I won’t refuse him.:

  :I’ll refuse you both.:

  Instead of being offended, Rhaekhar chuckled in her mind. Phantom fingers trailed over her shoulder, and the bite mark he gave her nights ago throbbed to life. :You are welcome to try.:

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Wiping his palm on his breeches, Theo crouched in the shadows. Despite the cold stone against his back, sweat dripped into his eyes, drawing a muttered obscenity from him. Damn that old man! What took him so long?

  He gripped a dagger so tightly his fingers hurt. His stomach rolled and pitched, and he frantically gulped for air, swallowing back the bile. He would not fail. He couldn’t. Not when the High Throne of the Green Lands was at stake.

  At last, the stone panel embedded in the thick castle wall inched open with a groan. Wheezing, Rikard shuffled inside with a lit candle in his hand. “Damn Valche and his scheming. And damn all barbarians! Ah, well, what’s done is done. Too many times over to count. Guard, bring my prisoner inside for questioning.”

  Suppressing a hysterical giggle, Theo pushed up to his feet but pressed his back tighter into the corner. A Lion Guard dragged in a bound and blindfolded peasant and tossed him on the ground before a rough stone altar in the center of the cell. The doddering old man gave a small coin purse of gold to the Guard, who bowed and left with secrecy insured. Of course, Theo had already given him twice that to allow him inside this foul chamber.

  His own little secret room was much more to his liking.

  Rikard bent down and set the candle on the stone floor beside the prisoner. Standing, he groaned.

  Theo heard the creak of ancient joints from his hiding place and again nearly gave away his position with a nasty laugh. Easing away from the wall, he carefully crept behind his grandfather. The knife shook in his hand, but his fear was gone. Anticipation surged in him and his heart raced. This was much better than shoving someone down the stairs.

  “The day I’m too old to offer sacrifice is the day I die to eternal torment.”

  Laughing out loud, Theo said, “Today’s the day.”

  Rikard whirled around. “You sniveling, pitiful, disgusting bastard!”

  A hard shove was enough to knock the frail old man back onto his altar. His fingers curled like claws, Rikard tried to drive Theo back, but he was weak. So weak.

  “I should have done this a long time ago.”

  The black stone tore open a gash on Rikard’s forehead. Shadows thickened in the room and the rough stone soaked up the offering hungrily. A thick shadow slithered around his grandfather’s neck.

  Damned if he didn’t already have an erection. “It’s time for a new High King to rule the Green Lands.”

  His hand shook, so the gaping wound he made in the old man’s neck was jagged and ugly. Perfect. In his excitement, the knife bit so deeply that steel crunched on the stone altar, notching the blade. A fitting reminder for his first formal sacrifice.

  “Please accept this sacrifice, Great Lord of the Dark. May You rule above and below. May You bring Your Endless Night to our world forever!”

  Rikard opened his mouth and croaked. Smiling wickedly, Theo leaned down, cocking his head to the side. “What is that, Grandfather?”

  “Die.”

  “You first.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Varne.” Rhaekhar struggled to keep his voice calm and controlled. Not an easy feat when his woman burned for another warrior and then swore to refuse them both. His face felt stiff and unnatural, carved from stone. The same stone from which Shannari’s heart must be carved. “I would speak with you.”

  “And I you, Khul.” Varne stalked out of the shadows, his face a grim mask. “You made a grave error.”

  “How so?”

  “You cannot allow Gregar such freedom with your woman. Why don’t you challenge him and be done?”

  “Shannari is indeed my woman. Mine. I’ll do whatever necessary to see to her safety and happiness.”

  “Safety?” Varne laughed, shaking his head, his lip curled in an ugly sneer. “You do recall that Gregar was Kae’Had-Mangus before he became Blood? The most honored Death Rider. None has ever worn as many red kae’als as he.”

  “I don’t doubt Gregar’s honor nor his love for Shannari.” Despite his frustration, the instinctive urge demanding he drive all other stallions away from his mare, Rhaekhar realized his words were true. Gregar did love her. He loved her enough to die for her. It would be enough.

  “Then you’re a fool.”

  Rhaekhar stepped closer, gripping his rahke but not unsheathing it. “You’re the fool, Varne. I’ll do anything I must to keep na’lanna safe. No one will get through my Shadowed Blood to harm her. No one. It just so happens that she wants him, too, though she’ll swear otherwise until she’s blue in the face. A blood bond with him keeps her safer. The stronger the bond, the stronger his protection.”

  “How can you share na’lanna with anyone, let alone him?”

  “Gregar would sacrifice his life to keep her safe. I can’t say the same of you, can I? You accepted the honor of my blood sacrifice. You swore to protect me with the last drop of your blood. Yet you won’t protect her after she’s honored me so many times by tasting my blood.”

  Varne turned away, his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle ticked in his cheek. “You hunger for her blood.”

  “Aye.” Rhaekhar closed his eyes a moment, relishing the sweet heady intoxication, the bond pulsing between them, drawing her nigh to his heart. “And she hungers for mine, and Gregar’s. I’ll use her need to bind her tighter to us.”

  “What if… ” Varne hesitated, refusing to look at him.

  Did the nearest Blood shared the same need, and it shamed him? Shannari had no interest in him at all, so Rhaekhar didn’t think it likely.

  “What if she wants other warriors’ blood? What if she draws them to her, the same as these Death Riders are supposedly drawn to her? What will you do then?”

  Jealousy surged through him at the thought of any other warrior making his intentions known. He couldn’t imagine approving others. Gregar’s sacrifice and honor were unquestioned, but any other? Rhaekhar gripped the rahke so hard his fingers hurt, and he felt every groove and carving in the hilt digging into his palm. He would do what he must, but he wouldn’t like it. “If she wants another blood bond, she’ll have it. If she wants another warrior, and I can approve of his honor, then she’ll have him too. Another warrior is another rahke to protect her.”

  “I see a hard future for you, Khul.” Varne shook his head sadly. “She swears she doesn’t love you.”

  “She does,” Rhaekhar retorted. “She simply doesn’t know it yet.”

  “As she loves Gregar, right? Indeed, she likely lov
es me too.”

  Rhaekhar laughed out loud. Despite his worry she would continue to refuse him, he knew she possessed no affection whatsoever for his nearest Blood. “You have no worries in that regard, Varne. Friends we have been our entire lives. You’ve protected me with your own blood for years. Yet I tell you this once and never again. I am Khul of the Nine Camps of the Sha’Kae al’Dan and Shannari is na’lanna. You will protect her with your life, as you do me, or I shall find another Blood to replace you. If you ever fail in your duties as my Blood again, I shall give you formal challenge in addition to dismissing you.”

  “Not even Gregar expected Death Riders to come after her! How can you blame me for failing to protect her?”

  “I don’t speak of the attack. I speak of your refusal to protect her as Blood. Either you are Blood and you protect all of me— most especially my heart— or you are no longer Blood.”

  Varne glared at him, jaw working fiercely. Finally, he gritted out, “Aye.”

  “Gregar shall be nearest to her, but if he falls or— ” Even now, the thought of her kissing the Blood, loving him, tasting his blood… His throat convulsed, his heart shredded by his friend’s ivory rahke. “If he’s otherwise occupied, I need to know that you’ll protect us both.”

  “He gives new meaning to nearest Blood,” Varne muttered with a scowl. “Aye, you are Khul. She carries your blood in her veins. It is an honor to serve you, Khul, however you wish. I shall do as you say.”

  Nearest Blood indeed. When Rhaekhar had named his Blood, he’d never expected he would share his blankets with any of them.

  He ducked back inside the tent, relieved to see that Gregar had retreated to his normal guarding spot at the wall. Shannari lay curled on her side, sleeping.

  Varne took his position inside the tent as well. Sighing, Rhaekhar decided he couldn’t order them outside, not after just lecturing his nearest Blood. After such an attack, they naturally wanted to protect inside once more, despite the arrangements Gregar had worked out.

  Shannari would not be well pleased when she realized the Blood guarded inside. Perhaps Varne’s shorter thong would have been sufficient after all.

  * * * *

  Waking quickly, Rhaekhar cupped her face and returned her kiss. He felt the fragility in her, the weakness, the reluctant need. Not for his body, exactly, but for his love. The very thing she hated and feared. If only he could force her to say the words…

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered against his lips, her fingers tangling in his hair.

  “Why?”

  “For wakening you.”

  “What better way can a warrior be awakened than by his woman’s kiss?” She must not realize the Blood were inside the tent. For once, he was grateful she refused to listen to the blood bonds tying her to both him and Gregar. She would have known immediately that the Blood were close.

  To better keep her from discovering the Blood’s presence, Rhaekhar gently switched their positions. Leaning down he kissed her with all the tenderness and love in his heart. “I almost lost you this day.”

  Shivering, she tightened her grip on his hair and pressed her face against his chest. “Don’t remind me.”

  He held her, gently smoothing his hands up and down her back.

  “You smell so good,” she whispered. Her scent heated, desire rising in her, but she was content to lie in his arms. “Sweet hay and flowers, baking bread.” Sighing, she dropped her voice so low he could barely hear her. “You make me hungry.”

  “You make me hungry too, my heart. I could breathe in your scent of roses for the rest of my life.”

  Rubbing her nose back and forth against his chest, she refused to answer. Permanency with him was impossible in her mind.

  “Think about it, na’lanna. My arms around you forever. My scent in your nose every single night. My body at your disposal. My every thought directed at your pleasure, your safety, your happiness. My love warming your heart for the rest of your life.”

  “Impossible,” she breathed against his skin. Yet he felt the surge of hope, longing, and pain through the bond.

  He moved on top of her, joining his body to hers gently. No thrusting, just body to body, heart to heart contact. “Nay, not impossible. This is all yours if you want it. If you want me.”

  “I do want you, but… ” She trembled beneath him, her hands sliding through his hair, across his shoulders, his back. She found her mark in his neck. The brush of her fingers sent flames shooting through him. Still, he refused to move.

  “If you want me, you can keep me. Forever.”

  Fear washed through her, from so many causes he couldn’t sort through them all. Guilt and shame, terror, anger, and bitter longing. She laughed harshly, tears thickening her voice. “Forever doesn’t exist.”

  “I swear to you now that I am yours forever. Where ever you are, there I shall be.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Khul.” She tugged on his hair, forcing him to raise his head to look into her eyes. What he saw in her stark, forlorn gaze made his heart clutch in agony. “I belong in the Green Lands. I must wear the Rose Crown and rule from Shanhasson or Lygon will break free of His prison. I’m the Last. Don’t you know what that means? If I die, if I fail, our world will end. A new age of Shadow will begin. I can only fight out my destiny one day at a time.”

  “Alone? Why fight alone, Shannari, when you could have me by your side?”

  “You’ll never leave your Plains, your Camps, to come with me, and I can’t stay here. Don’t ask me to give up my destiny, my duty, my honor.”

  “I never asked you to give up anything but this kae’don to shield your heart from me.” He brushed his lips against hers; giving her a slow, tender thrust that immediately tightened her body around him. “I shall never ask you to give up your destiny. I merely ask that you allow me to share it. To share your life. To protect and love you to the best of my ability.”

  Pain and anger tinted her scent like blood spreading through a pool of crystal water. “I don’t want to want things I can’t have!”

  “You can have me. Love me, Shannari, and we’ll find a way.”

  “A way will be provided,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

  “Aye. Give me a chance to show you the way.”

  She said nothing, but she pressed her face deeper into his chest, holding him tightly.

  He continued the slow, exquisite stroking, keeping as much of their bodies touching as possible without crushing her beneath him while he flooded their bond with all the love and tenderness in his heart. He didn’t try to delay their completion, nor drive her to multiple releases. He didn’t command her body’s response and restrain his own.

  Quivering, she found release with him, softly, silently, but her tears wet his skin. He rolled over and drew her up onto his chest, smoothing his hands up and down her back.

  “Maybe you’ll give me a child to take home with me.”

  Fury roared through him, hot and fast, leaving him shaking in its wake. Great Vulkar, she had no idea how she insulted him. That a warrior would give his child to a woman and allow her to leave his protection…

  She didn’t insult his honor deliberately. When she pushed up on her elbow to search his face, honesty gleaming in her eyes. He read the fragile hope in her heart. She admitted this small hope, a desire to take a piece of him away with her forever.

  When such a thing would tear every last kae’al from his hair and destroy him. “There will be no child unless we are mated.”

  “As many times as we’ve been together, I could be pregnant now.”

  His jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. “Nay.”

  Her gaze narrowed, and he felt her hesitant touch through the bond. “I didn’t mean any dishonor.”

  “I know.” Fighting down the rage, he tried to explain. “On the Plains, a warrior would never give his child to a woman unless she carried his honor. Unless she possessed his love, his heart, his protection.”

  “How can you
prevent conception?”

  “I drink drakkar daily. I swear to you, Shannari, I won’t give you my child until the day you allow me to claim you.”

  Disappointment flickered across her face. To hide it, she lay back down upon his chest, but he felt her sadness through the bond. “I wouldn’t mind having your child.”

  “Then stay with me. Allow me to claim you. Become my Khul’lanna. Sleep on my heart like this every single night, safe and loved in my arms with our child nestled against your breast.”

  Silence was his answer. But she fell asleep in his arms with that exact image held in her mind.

  * * * *

  Shannari sat up, clutching a blanket to her chest. The barbarian stood beside her, wrapping his memsha about his hips. Through the small window in the roof of the tent, she saw it was barely dawn. “Where are you going so early?”

  “I’m participating in a kae’don this day.”

  “Battle? Why?” Suddenly she noticed that two Blood sat inside the tent against the walls. They looked very comfortable. As if they—”Why are they in here?”

  “After the attack, they will guard us both more closely. Be pleased that only two wished to sleep inside with us.”

  Her stomach fluttered queasily. “They were in here last night? All night?”

  “Aye.” He shrugged. “Don’t worry about the kae’don, na’lanna. Lyell’s warriors can’t possibly best mine. How did Gregar say it? This is all fun and games.”

  Heat flooded her, drowning her in shame and fury. “You tricked me. Last night. We— While they— ”

  “I have time to make your caffe. Perhaps then you’ll be able to finish a complete thought.”

  She spluttered with shame and fury. “How dare you!”

  Gregar laughed as though Rhaekhar had made a great joke, and even Varne’s lips twitched toward a smile.

  Softening the sting to her pride, Rhaekhar leaned down and kissed her. “You take my breath away when you’re angry.”

  “But— I can’t— ”