by Erin Beaty
He made her come at him with the sheathed dagger from several angles, admonishing her not to hesitate whenever she was reluctant. His criticism rankled her, but he was so serious, she suppressed the urge to snap back.
The third time she faltered in advancing, he wrenched the weapon from her hand and had her down on the mat with the covered blade at her throat before she could blink. Sage had always thought of him as a soldier, knew he’d killed men, but for the first time she comprehended just how powerful and deadly he was.
“Did I frighten you?” he asked, leaning back. She nodded. “Good.” He tossed the knife into her lap as she sat up. “Get up and try again.”
A grim determination settled over her, and she began to progress as he wanted, drawing occasional unsmiling praise. After nearly three hours, he slapped the dagger from her hand, saying, “Your weapon is gone; now what?”
Without thinking she jumped at his middle, driving her shoulder into his stomach. She’d surprised him enough that he crumpled with the blow and fell back on the mat. There was a sickening thud as his head hit the straw pallet. Horrified, Sage pushed up to her knees as Ash groaned and reached for his head. She leaned over him only to realize her mistake when he grabbed her by the throat and yanked her close to whisper, “You’re dead.”
She pounded on his arm with her fist. “That’s not fair!”
“Do you think this is a game?” he asked. “Is there fairness in fighting a man twice your size?”
Her protest died. “No.”
He released his hold. “Good. Again.”
Ash came at her from behind, from the front, from the side. He twisted her arms behind her and bent her fingers backward to force her grip open, making her push and pull against him with all her strength. Sage learned how to use her dangling feet to find leverage and reach vulnerable spots if she was lifted off of them. He showed her which of her bones were strongest, where she was weakest, how to allow injury to gain a critical advantage, and how to fall. She landed roughly on the pallet more times than she could count.
All but two of the candles had burned out, telling her it must be nearly dawn. Sage was more tired than she’d ever felt in her life, but she dared not complain. She couldn’t help that her reactions slowed, however, and her strength waned. Finally, she lay panting on the mat as he stood over her and nudged her with his left foot. “Again.”
“I’m too tired,” she wheezed.
“I don’t care. Again.”
“I can’t,” she whimpered, rolling to her quaking hands and knees.
“You can.” He prodded harder. “Get up.”
Anger surged through her, and Sage used its fire to slam her elbow into the back of his right knee. Ash fell backward with a grunt, and she grabbed his hair and jerked him the rest of the way down. She pressed her forearm across his throat as he scrambled to reach for her, and she leaned close enough to gasp, “You’re dead.”
He smiled for the first time. “Very good.”
Sage collapsed against him. “No more, please,” she mumbled into his sweaty shoulder.
Strong arms encircled her, and he pulled her closer, laying his cheek on the top of her head. “No more,” he soothed. “We’re finished.”
She nearly wept with relief as she clutched his shirt and buried her face in it. “Why were you so hard on me?”
Ash tipped her chin up and looked at her with a fierceness that took her breath away. “Because if you die, it will be my fault, and I can’t live with that.” He leaned down, bringing his lips so close they brushed against hers as he whispered, “Or without you.”
She didn’t know who kissed who that time, but it didn’t matter. A warmth radiated through her from the places they touched, bringing an energy she didn’t think possible. The hands and arms that had frustrated her all night with their quickness and power now moved slowly and caressed gently. Ash tentatively explored the curves of her back and hips, and she encouraged him with her sighs to grow bolder, until she felt his hands traveling down and around her thighs.
Ash rolled from his back onto his side to face her, and she grabbed his waist with a need to be closer still. Her fingers brushed skin where his shirt had come untucked, making him moan softly into her hair. Sage smiled and slipped her hand under the fabric. She traced her fingertips up the hard muscles of his back, enjoying the way he responded to her touch. Then his mouth was on hers again with a hunger she felt equally, and he was tugging her top out to make her react in the same way.
His calloused hands were so gentle as they traced her spine. When he spread his fingers, they seemed to cover her whole back. Her own fingers found the texture of a broad scar under his shoulder—evidence of his deadly past and future, of his strength. But here, now, he was vulnerable to the softest touch. He trembled at the slightest noise she made. She felt dizzy with a sense of power, despite the fact that he was so much stronger. But Ash would never hurt her. Sage only had to say no, and he would stop.
She didn’t want to say no.
Sage turned her face into his hair as he trailed soft kisses down her neck. A shiver ran through him as her breath grazed his ear.
“Ash,” she whispered.
The hands on her back curled into fists, and his body went completely rigid. He buried his face in her shoulder, groaning, “Sweet Spirit, NO!”
She’d done something wrong. “You don’t have to stop—”
“Yes, I do.” His eyes were desperate as he leaned back and pulled his hands out from her shirt. “There are things you don’t know, Sage.”
“Then tell me.”
“Soon, sweet Sage. I promise.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her softly as the last candle went out. “Just not tonight.”
56
NOISE IN THE passage outside woke her. Ash was still stroking her back as he had been when she drifted off to sleep. He’d pulled the musty blanket up around them, but most of her warmth came from him. “We need to get up,” he whispered.
She snuggled closer. “I don’t want to,” she mumbled into his shirt.
He kissed the top of her head. “Neither do I, but we must.”
Sage groaned and pushed the blanket back, realizing she could see a little in the light coming from under the door. The shadow of two feet appeared, and a knock echoed through the room. Ash pushed himself to his feet and padded across the stone floor in his socks. She smiled as she heard him trip on the forgotten dagger and curse.
The door opened a crack, and Sage threw her arm over her eyes against the burst of light. “I see the lesson went well,” a voice said dryly. Lieutenant Casseck. She didn’t care what he thought, but that light was too bright.
“Shut your damn mouth,” said Ash. “What’s going on?”
“D’Amiran’s realized Robert is gone. He wants to see Quinn right away, but he’s moving slowly from last night’s wine.” Sage wondered whether Casseck meant the duke or the captain.
Ash glanced over his shoulder at her. “Can you get her back to her room discreetly?”
“Yes.”
“We need five minutes.”
“Make it three.”
Ash shut the door in the lieutenant’s face, then reopened it when Casseck knocked again. “Thank you,” Ash said grudgingly, accepting the candle his friend offered. He bolted the door and turned to her. “Let’s get you back together first. Your hair is a real mess.”
Sage sat up stiffly and began struggling with her breastband. It was loose in the back, and she wasn’t sure she could fix it without taking off her shirt. Ash set the candle on a table and dropped down beside her. “Let me help.” She cringed as he lifted the back of her shirt. His hands tugged the ties but it only became looser. “Oh,” he said sheepishly. “The laces ripped through the eyelets. I hope you have another one.”
He’d been through her trunk; he should know. But she only said, “I do.”
She focused on lacing her boots while he tried to pull her hair down, but succeeded only in making a further mess
of it. Sage swatted his hands away and picked it apart expertly. Ash sighed and stood, lifting her up under her armpits as he rose, and set her on her feet. He moved around to her front and loosened her belt so he could push her shirt back into her breeches. Even with the distraction of his hands in her trousers, she managed to put her hair in a single braid and tuck it around enough to hide it under her hood. He tossed her jacket to her and gestured for her to step off the mat so he could stack the pallets back in the corner. Once she felt in order, she tried folding the blanket before giving up and rolling it. He took it from her and tossed it on top of the corner pile.
Three minutes had surely passed, but no knock came to urge them out. Ash saw her glance at the door and said, “He’ll come back when it’s safe to take you to your room.”
“Why can’t you take me?”
“Because I don’t think I can walk next to you without making it obvious what happened last night.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I thought nothing happened.” He ignored her and jammed his shirt back into his breeches. Her stomach twisted. Why wouldn’t he look her in the eye?
The captain. He wanted to use her, but Ash didn’t. She’d seen Ash’s reluctance when he made her promise to obey orders, when he taught her to fight. What other orders had Quinn forced on him?
After last night the answer was obvious: Ash wasn’t allowed to be with her, no matter how much he wanted. Anger rose in her chest. Did the captain think she wasn’t good enough for Ash? It was none of his damn business.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked.
Sage crossed her arms. “No, I’m not. I want to talk.”
He froze with one hand half in his breeches. “About what?”
“About the things I don’t know yet. You said not last night. Well, it’s morning.”
Ash swallowed. A tap on the door saved him, and he nearly ran to answer it. “Thirty seconds,” whispered Casseck through the crack. Ash beckoned to her.
She stepped up beside him. “Talk to me, Ash.”
He pulled her against him. “Tonight, I promise. Everything.”
His mouth was on hers, and she melted into him, barely able to wonder what was so wrong about this, why anyone would try to stop what they had when it felt so right. Even Darnessa wanted it.
A single knock interrupted them. “I’ll see you tonight,” he murmured before opening the door and handing her to Casseck.
The lieutenant led her to the end of the passage and handed her a small pile of firewood. “This is for Lady Sagerra’s room,” he said as though nothing was amiss. They walked side by side through the empty courtyard. Most of the servants must be eating breakfast and all of the nobles still asleep.
Sage knew she should care about her reputation, but what Casseck thought of Ash concerned her more. If he reported what he saw to the captain … “We didn’t—”
“I know. I know him well enough to see that.” He looked down on her. “It’s you and your honor I worry about. As far as those harpies traveling with you are concerned, you’re already bedding half the soldiers.” Sage rolled her eyes, but Casseck remained serious. “If they talk where others can hear, you may find yourself cornered by a man who thinks he can do what he wants with you. We’d be forced to kill him, hopefully before he got very far.”
Sage thought of the guard in the gatehouse. “Maybe we could use that to our advantage.”
Casseck stopped to stare at her. “No. Absolutely not. That goes too far. We will never use you in that way.”
She met his eyes accusingly. “Captain Quinn doesn’t mind using anyone to his advantage—including Charlie.”
Casseck shook his head. “If you truly believe that, my lady, you don’t understand him at all.”
Sage turned away and continued, making Casseck scramble to catch up. She was done with everyone defending Quinn, done with not knowing anything, done with watching Ash crumble under his captain’s demands.
Most of all, she was done being Quinn’s pawn.
57
QUINN CROSSED THE ward to meet Duke D’Amiran’s summons and climbed the steps to the top of the outer bailey at an energetic pace.
“Your Grace,” Quinn called as he approached. “I’m sorry it took so long to find you; there was a miscommunication as to where you were.” He bowed low, then stood straight with an inquiring look, trying not to appear as tired as he felt.
“I want an explanation, Captain,” the duke said. “Four of your men left on a patrol yesterday—without my permission and unaccompanied by my guards.”
Quinn blinked. “I wasn’t aware we needed permission or escort, as we fall under the king’s authority. In the future I’ll make sure you’re informed, however. We meant no harm.”
“No harm?” D’Amiran growled. “What say you to the report of armed men roaming my lands, frightening my workers? If my few fields cannot be planted in time due to the chaos, who will pay for the loss? You? Soldiers destroy out of habit, but men like me must provide for their people.”
The incident was obviously made up or falsely linked to his patrol, but Quinn acted contrite. “If my men are truly at fault for such damages, I assure you the crown will more than cover your loss.”
“You’re very free with the royal purse, Captain,” the duke sneered. “Is it Mother’s or Father’s influence that allows you such liberties? Your rank already makes it clear that being the general’s son makes for a fruitful career.”
Quinn ignored the insult. “That’s not for me to judge, Your Grace. I simply do my best to follow orders.”
D’Amiran’s face darkened. “In that case, Captain, I will issue new orders to you, being you are under my roof. You and your men are forbidden to leave this fortress until further notice. You will not patrol outside my gates, and you’ll submit to a muster three times daily, conducted by my captain to make sure no other faces go missing.”
“Who is missing, Your Grace?”
D’Amiran met his eyes coldly. “You seem to have lost one of your officers.”
“I think Your Grace must be misinformed.” Quinn’s tone was bland, respectful. “We haven’t mustered for the day, but I laid eyes on both only a few minutes ago.”
“Yes, but there were three yesterday. Four, including yourself. When your patrol returned, one of your men had been replaced by another. One shorter and filthy.”
Quinn looked back in bewilderment. “They told me Sergeant Porter fell off his horse and dislocated his shoulder. I can only suggest the man in question was him, and he wasn’t sitting up as straight as when he left. I can bring him to you, Your Grace, if you’d like to speak to him.”
“No,” his host spat. “I’m sure you covered your tracks there.”
“Your Grace,” Quinn said carefully, “I’m not sure why you think I would do such a thing—or how. If we’ve offended you, violated your hospitality, or shown ourselves to be untrustworthy, I sincerely apologize and beg the chance to make amends. Perhaps we should leave. There’s enough time in the day to gather the women and take them back to Lord Fashell’s estate. We can wait there for the pass to clear.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Captain.” The panic that flashed across D’Amiran’s face told Quinn the duke wasn’t quite ready to act. “Not only are the accommodations inferior, a sickness is present there. I only want you to respect my authority in my lands—a right granted by the crown.”
Quinn lowered his head. “As Your Grace wishes. Are there any other restrictions? May we continue to move freely within your walls and guard the ladies we’re assigned to protect? We have only their honor and safety in mind, and idle soldiers are a commander’s bane.”
The duke waved his hand irritably. “Yes, of course. But if any more of your party comes up missing, I will hold you personally responsible.”
“As you should, Your Grace,” Quinn said. “My men should be mustered now, if your captain is ready for his first inspection.” He stepped back and politely gestured for the guard behind D’Amiran to l
ead the way.
* * *
Casseck dropped into a chair opposite Quinn at the table. “What was that about?” he asked.
Quinn rubbed his face as he detailed his conversation with the duke.
“I think he’s worried about what he’s lost with Robert gone,” Casseck said. “Maybe he promised him to Kimisara.”
Quinn yawned. “You may be right. He would’ve been a valuable hostage. Ash said earlier their people were starving.”
“Speaking of Ash,” said Casseck. “How are he and the others doing out there?”
“Porter said they’re getting tired of squirrel meat, and they could all use baths, but generally fine. No injuries. Ash got sick that one time, but if he hadn’t, we might not have gotten our bottled weapon. How’s Charlie?”
“Fine. Out in the stables this morning, tending Surry and Shadow. Three days, right?”
“At least.” Quinn rubbed his neck and yawned again. “What do we need to do today, Cass?”
“Everything’s in hand. Two more small barrels of both kinds of alcohol last night. Gramwell’s team is done surveying the sewers. Our watch rotations cover all the areas you designated, and we have a running list of who’s here. There’ll be several parties leaving today, and several more arriving. The men are tired, though.”
“Well, now that we won’t be riding, there’ll be less to do. Make sure they get rest, though—they’ll need it.”
“You need some sleep, Alex. Go take a nap.” Casseck tilted his head at the side door.
Quinn scratched the back of his head. “I may just do that.” He stood to walk to the attached room they shared.
“Starling is coming to the meeting tonight.” Casseck made it a statement rather than a question.
“Yes.”
“She still doesn’t know, does she?”
“No.” Quinn wouldn’t look back as he pushed the door open.