by Jane Atchley
“It gives you free run of his camp. When did he give you this?”
“Yesterday afternoon. There was a rumor going around saying he was dying from his change—”
“I’ve always heard one can’t shift into a form far larger or smaller than one’s natural size. His was a hell of a change.”
A little smile tickled the side of her mouth. “Yes, but you and I don’t get sick when we change. It sounded abnormal to me.”
“We don’t fall out of the sky either.”
Ignoring her brother’s comment, Faelan forged on. “I went to see him.”
“Ooh. I know that look. You did more than see him.”
Faelan felt blood rush to her cheeks.
“Are you blushing? You are blushing.” Quinn clapped his hands. “You’re really gone on this fellow, aren’t you?”
There was no use denying it. Quinn could literally smell a lie.
Quinn glanced down at the paper still spread out on his knee. “He cares for you too, or he wouldn’t have written this. It gives you the same freedom of movement his soldiers have.”
“He says he loves me.”
“And that’s a problem why, exactly? Do you think he’s insincere, because I’ll challenge him if you want me to? Not that a wolf can whip a dragon’s ass or anything.”
“He’s not a shifter.” Faelan fiddled with the edge of her blanket.
“I saw him. Remember?”
“Just take my word for it. Duncan’s not a shifter. He thinks he’s sincere. Yesterday, he asked me to go home with him to meet his family. I just can’t.”
“Why?” Quinn’s brow furrowed. “You’re losing me. You love the man. He loves you. Is there somebody waiting back in the desert I don’t know about?”
“Don’t be stupid.” Faelan took a deep breath, sat up straight, and met her brother’s gaze. “Do you remember your first love?”
Quinn smiled and closed his eyes. “Betty Gannon.”
“Looking back, do you wish you’d married her instead of Camilla?”
Quinn shook his head.
“I didn’t think so. I’m Duncan’s Betty Gannon. Here, he’s a soldier far from home, and I’m a soldier far from home. We’re equals. Back in the real world, he’s the son of a wealthy powerful family. His family expects him to marry a woman of breeding and property. He’s not going to want a half illiterate nomad seven years his senior shackling him with promises made during wartime. I’d be an embarrassment.”
“How do you know? Did you ask him? The man is a career soldier. Maybe he’s not all that concerned with what his family wants.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“Yours. But this drivel you’re spouting is nothing but pride turned inside out.”
Faelan paced the length of her tent. “I’m not going to the surrender ceremony. He’ll just be too beautiful and…and perfect. I’ll weaken. I’ve said goodbye, and I don’t want to see him again.”
Quinn caught his sister in mid-pace, hugged her, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Suit yourself, little sister, but I’m not the one being stupid.”
****
Sun stabbed Duncan’s eyes, merciless after the gloom inside his tent, ratcheting up his aching head to new plateaus of misery.
Where in blazes was Roland with the twins? A man couldn’t find a bit of magic anywhere when he really needed it. He squeezed his eyes shut and massaged his temples.
“Are you about to sick-up?”
Startled, Duncan’s head snapped to the side.
He had not heard Captain Fawr come up beside him. Dangerous that. The captain’s sense of humor being what it was, a man could get hurt. Duncan always made a point of knowing his captain’s whereabouts.
“I have already performed that charming ritual this morning, sir. A bad head is the extent of my misery.”
Kree eyed him doubtfully. “Are you sure? Because you look like carrion.”
Thank you for the visual. Duncan swallowed the lump rising in his throat and reminded himself he loved this man. “I sent for the twins. I will be back at one-hundred percent in short order.”
The captain blew out a disapproving puff of air. “Magic. You wouldn’t need that shit if you dipped your toes into debauchery a little more often. It’s these once-in-a-blue-moon binges that do you in. Your blood doesn’t build up a tolerance.”
“So you have said, sir, countless times.”
Captain Fawr’s heavy hand came to rest on Duncan’s shoulder effectively pinning him in place, although the man made no real attempt to hold him.
“And so I’m apt to keep saying. If you can drink it, eat it, smoke it, or snort it to get high, chances are I have at one time or another and look at me. You don’t see me tiptoeing around all red-eyed and pasty-faced this morning, do you?”
Duncan shook his head with utmost care. “For the love of mercy, sir, spare me any more tales of your misspent youth. I am sure they are instructive. Nevertheless, I beg you— Ah, look. Here are the twins.”
****
Everyone who could walk went to witness the surrender. Faelan stayed behind determined to forget this lush green land just as she had determined to forget a certain beautiful field marshal. Her heart ached with loss but sooner begun sooner done.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go across? Aren’t you even a little curious to know what’s to become of us? What if he shifts into that big fire-breathing thing again and roasts us all as he did poor Mister Nicholas.”
Faelan smiled as she wrapped packing rags around a small clay pitcher. Poor Martha, missing the surrender must be killing her.
“He won’t. And I already know what’s to become of us.”
Her maid peered up at her. “You do?”
“Day after tomorrow The Glorious Army of the Descendants will march back to Eremos under the watchful eye of the Ionian Infantry.”
Martha dropped the laundry she’d been fiddling with. “That’s all? He’s just packing us all home?”
“Not all of us.” Faelan took a deep breath. “Uncle Ari and the chief-men will go to Elhar to face trial. The officers who helped Nicholas raid the Allied camp will swear an oath of allegiance to the Great Ladies or hang. The rest of us must take an oath not to take up arms against Kingdom nations. Then the infantry will escort us back to the desert and our lives will go on as before.”
Her maid pushed a pile of clothes aside and sat on the edge of her cot. “How do you know?”
“Duncan read the terms of surrender to me yesterday.”
“Why?”
There was a good question. Faelan chewed her lower lip a minute considering how to answer. He actually changed the terms for her. “He wanted my opinion. He wanted to be sure I thought his terms merciful.”
Martha snatched up a tunic and folded it neatly. Her maid never went long without something to busy her hands. “Strange man.” Laying the folded garment aside, Martha reached for another.
Wonderful man. Faelan sighed. “Yes, he is. I’m not likely to meet another like him.”
“All the more reason to go across to the ceremony then, ain’t it, precious?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
From his vantage point, Duncan watched the area fill with people whose anxious eyes watched him as if he were an angry god. He tried not to fidget. Captain Fawr stood beside him comfortable in his own skin, and cool as a morning breeze. How he envied his captain’s capacity for happy saliency. Was it a learned behavior from a lifetime in the spotlight or something inborn?
Giving in to an overpowering urge, Duncan fingered the hilt of his ceremonial saber. He searched the crowd for Faelan and spotted her brother pushing his way to the front. Duncan’s heart froze. If she was not with her brother, Faelan wasn’t coming.
His experience with women was, Duncan was first to admit, limited, but as a man with five older sisters, he counted his experience interpreting feminine moods vast. At some point last evening, he had offended. He needed to discover how he had offended an
d make amends. Easier said than done in the present circumstances, unless her brother—
“You’re on.” Captain Fawr’s velvet voice whispered at Duncan’s shoulder.
Duncan’s gaze shifted to the prisoners. Condemned men led to their places by a cadre of allied personnel. He could not afford reports that the surrender’s generous terms were a unilateral garrison decision. The allied generals, Duncan so carefully placated, stood at attention behind their chairs. They were not fidgeting.
Duncan gave the hem of his dress jacket a tug, and touched his useless ceremonial saber. “Yes.”
“Don’t look so glum, Sugar-babe. We won, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Not likely. He would see smoking carnage until he closed his eyes for good. Aiming what felt like a sickly smile at his captain, Duncan made his way to his place directly across from Faelan’s uncle.
Duncan brought his arm up slowly, saluting the older man, a show of respect for a worthy foe. Surprise flickered in General Foley’s eyes before he returned the salute. Duncan took his seat, a signal to those of his party to do likewise. Across from them, the defeated general remained at attention.
Duncan flicked his hand at the empty chair across the table from his. “Take your seat, please, General. You will find five copies of the surrender document before you. We will sign all five. You have my word they are true copies, however you are free to read each of them before signing should you wish.”
“One will do. You’ve shown yourself a man of his word.”
“Once ratified,” Duncan continued as formal as ever, “heralds will read the terms to those gathered here today, and justice will be swiftly satisfied.”
The general leaned over the pile of documents and read, his lips moving over the words. On the second page, his gaze snapped up.
“You changed the part about the raiders.”
Duncan inclined his head. “Someone I trust familiarized me with the inner workings of your army. This seems more just.”
The general’s eyes narrowed. “If we’d met under different circumstances, Field Marshal, I believe we would have been friends.”
“I would have been honored, sir,”
The rest of the signing ceremony passed without comment. Documents went down one side of the table and up the other. Four signed documents left for Elhar via four different couriers mounted on fast horses. Duncan stood and deposited the final copy in Captain Fawr’s hands. Then he yanked the gold field marshal’s bars off his own collar and tossed them on the table.
“Captain Fawr.” Duncan snapped off a crisp two-fingered salute. “I respectfully request permission to step down.” He fought the urge to squirm under his captain’s scrutiny. He hated Kree’s poker face. It held no clue of what went on inside the man’s head, and that sometimes proved dangerous.
At last, Kree shot him the familiar lop-sided grin. “Welcome back, First Lieutenant. I’ve missed you.”
“Thank you, sir. If I may be excused, I have pressing business.” Duncan jogged down the steps, his one thought, catching up to Faelan’s brother.
“Shug.”
Duncan stopped half way to the bottom, turned and gazed up at his captain.
“Well done, trooper. Thank you.”
Judging from the grin spreading across Kree’s face as he gazed down at him, his own answering smile looked sappy. There would be teasing later. He saw it in his captain’s laughing eyes. Just now, Duncan didn’t care. “You’re welcome, sir.”
****
“Mister Foley!”
The crowd parted for Duncan as if brushing against him might burn. After all these people had witnessed, he could not blame them. His internal temperature rose in direct proportion to his anxiety. Who knew but what they were right?
Silently chanting the pact, Duncan raced after Faelan’s brother. The other man’s dark curly head, all that was visible above the crowd, continued to move, increasing the distance between them.
Calling on his best command voice, Duncan bellowed. “Quinn Foley, wait. Please.”
Up ahead, Faelan’s brother turned. He scanned the crowd seeking the voice hailing him. Spotting Duncan, he crossed his arms over his chest, as unfriendly a stance as Duncan had ever seen.
Careful not to invade the other man’s space, Duncan stopped a few feet way. “Mister Foley, thank you for speaking with me.”
“What do you want, Field—” Quinn’s gaze dropped to Duncan’s collar where the missing gold bars had left an impression in the cloth. He cocked his head. “What do I call you now?”
“First Lieutenant, but Duncan will do.”
Quinn rubbed his chin. “All right, Duncan, what do you want?”
“No doubt…” Duncan paused, stared at his boots, and collected his thoughts. “No doubt you are aware Faelan visited me yesterday.” A derisive snort urged him to continue. “At some point during our visit, I offended her. Although I recognized the symptoms, the offense is a mystery to me. I had hoped Faelan confided in you, and I further hoped you might share her confidence with me.”
“You hoped for a lot.”
“I would be grateful for your help.”
Quinn gave a little negative head shake. “I’d be a sorry brother if I betrayed my sister’s confidence, but—” It was Quinn’s turn to stare down at his toes. “Faelan’s forever telling me what a genius you are. It wouldn’t be breaking a confidence if you guessed.”
Duncan glanced at the crowd pressed close around them, curiosity overcoming their fear of him. “Step aside with me and I shall…guess.”
The two men moved over to a large tree, which had somehow escaped felling. Under the shade of its thick limbs sat four squat empty barrels. Claiming one, Quinn made himself comfortable. Duncan paced.
“I changed the treaty at Faelan’s suggestion, sparing more lives. It pleased her.”
“And then…” Quinn prompted.
“I asked her to come home with me.”
“Ah-ha.”
Duncan strode back to Quinn. “She thinks my affection insincere?”
“She thinks your affection is that of an inexperienced young man caught up in wartime romance. She thinks you will be embarrassed by her in the real world.”
“But that’s absurd. She mistook my meaning.”
Jumping to his feet, Quinn spread his hands in a quick you’re-not-dragging-me-into-this gesture. “Mistook what, exactly? Did you mean to ask her to marry you?”
“I thought she would enjoy seeing the islands.”
“Listen. Faelan’s said her goodbyes to you. I won’t help you break my sister’s heart. Have a nice life, First Lieutenant.”
****
Her brother was in for all sorts of pain, Faelan fumed. For one thing, he’d camped in her doorway and wasn’t lifting a finger to help pack even though they were marching tomorrow. For another, he’d stuck his head in and asked, “Faelan, are you receiving,” three times before sundown.
Receiving. What a Duncan word. “No,” got a little bit harder to say with each repetition. Just when she thought Duncan would wear her down with his sheer relentlessness, he’d gone. And he hadn’t come back. It took awhile to get over the fact he hadn’t come back, but once she did, she’d actually gotten a few fitful hours of sleep.
Snatching up the wooden bucket near the entrance, Faelan ducked outside for water, and almost ran smack into Duncan. Dressed in the casual blue tunic troopers worn on the march, he stood beside his spotted horse, reins in hand. A pair of silent troopers waited about ten feet away, a pair of spotted horses in tow. Faelan glanced toward the sprawling camp across the river before her gaze snapped back to his.
“Where?”
“We decamped at dawn.”
She glanced at the pink horizon.
“Garrison dawn.” Duncan dropped his reins, closing the short distance separating them in two strides. “I expressed myself poorly when inviting you to my home. My words caused you to feel less esteem than I feel. I am very sorry. By way of apology, I of
fer you the opportunity to accompany your uncle to Elhar.” He motioned to the spare horses. “You may look after him. I asked Quinn too, but he declined. He said with the loss of your chief-men he’d be more use at home.”
Evil man, he wanted her close so he’d have time to turn her to his way of thinking, and his lure was irresistible. Faelan smiled. She couldn’t help herself. “Did you rehearse this speech?”
Duncan’s chin dropped. He gazed up at her, melting her heart. “A hundred times.”
Knowing Duncan, he meant it literally. Faelan gave in to the urge to touch his cheek. “Oh, Aimery, you’re making this so much harder than it has to be. Don’t you see that?”
He captured her hand in his, studying her face as if actually attempting to see her thoughts. “I d-don’t.”
“It will never work.”
“Why? Explain. Although you have never said the words, I know you love me.”
Explain. How did she explain what had no explanation? Faelan pulled her hand free, took a step back. “This isn’t the real world, Duncan. When your ardor cools, and it will, you’ll realize I don’t belong in your world.”
Duncan closed the precious distance Faelan’s back-peddling put between them, and took her shoulders in a painfully gentle grip. “Do I seem a changeable sort of man to you?”
He was doing it again, studying her, trying to see inside her soul. Faelan couldn’t meet his burning gaze. “No.” It came out as an embarrassing squeak.
“I asked you to come to the islands because I want to spend time with you in the real world, Faelan and Aimery, not field marshal and spy. If you are right and there is nothing real between us, I’ll bring you back to your people or establish you anywhere you wish.” Leaning forward, Duncan rested his forehead against hers. “You will love the islands, Faelan. They are so green. Please.”
“If you love me, Duncan, get on your fancy horse and go far away.”
Scorching her with one last intense questioning look, he did as she asked his body language telling her how much it hurt him. Someone else might not see it, but her wolf-side noticed weaknesses. She even smelled his pain. She had won. Why did she feel like the loser?