The Healer and the Warrior

by Bekah Clark

  When he finally turned his back to me, I went slack and stared at the ground in despair. Hours passed, the guards changed, and still no Torric. My heart ached. Either he couldn’t find me or he was dead. I pleaded with any Spirit that would listen to keep him alive. At least if I couldn’t see him again, the idea that he was still alive gave me comfort.

  Some of the villagers left the security of the wall and came out to start building something. For a time, I watched as they cut and nailed the wood into a shape I didn’t understand. At least, not at first. It was a small platform with a large stake in the center. My heart skittered to a halt as what they were building sunk in. They were preparing to burn me. Of course, they didn’t have it ready in advance. They didn’t know they were going to burn a witch. Icicles pierced my soul, and for a moment I couldn’t even hear the pounding of hammers. Even my heart seemed to fall silent. When it started again, it pounded in my chest so wildly, I thought my rib cage would break. I was quivering with cold, and yet sweat poured out of me. I couldn’t believe it. These people who didn’t even know me really were going to kill me for being a witch.

  “I’m a healer! I’m a healer, not a witch!”

  “Shuddup, witch.” The guard came over and smacked me across the face with such ferocity, I fell roughly to the ground and lay there in stunned silence.

  When my mind finally cleared, I stared up at him with teary eyes. His gaze promised violence, but still, I begged, “Please. Please, I am a healer, not a witch!”

  He leaned down and got right in my face. His foul breath washed over me, turning my stomach as his words froze my soul. “A healer is nothin’ but a witch that hides what she is.”

  The shiver that rolled through me then took all of my strength. My teeth chattered as I shook. What was I going to do? There was no place for me to go. My death was before my eyes. It mocked me as they pieced it together board by board. Eventually, I started to shut down. My eyes blindly watched the villagers, and time passed without my realizing it. Too soon, it was dark, and my funeral pyre tormented me with its completion. A small crowd was gathering. I thought there would be more, but soon I noticed it was a large group of men—no women or children. I wondered what sort of life the women of this village had. Were they oppressed or did they just not want to watch a woman burn, witch or no?

  The guards grabbed me roughly and hauled me to my feet. My tether cut, they tugged me up to the platform, tying me to the stake in the middle. Numbness gripped my bones, weakening me, taking the fight out of me. I stared unseeingly out at the crowd of men. Realizing these were my final moments, I tried to focus because this was the last sight I was going to see—a bunch of men with hate in their eyes.

  Shaking my head, I turned from them and tried to remember the emerald of Torric’s eyes instead. Warmth flooded my heart as I remembered how tender they could be. I smiled, recalling the rich, honeyed sound of his voice, the dark honey of his laugh. Closing my eyes, I soon remembered the cinnamon and woodsy scent of him. How he was so strong and powerful, but he had been so very gentle with me from the very beginning of our journey. I smiled at the memory of his kiss. I wished I had just one more of those.

  The scent of smoke seized my memories from me, and a quiver rocked me until my knees were weak; the ropes around my body were all that held me up. I let my eyes slowly wander over the men. There were roughly fifteen of them, all of whom stared up at me with a gleeful hunger for my death. What sort of man would want to watch a woman burn? I wondered. Tears slipped down my cheeks. A sob cut through me.

  At first, I thought I was hallucinating. Behind the men, I saw Torric, his eyes on me. And they were burning with rage. He raised his sword, and then he struck down the first man he came across with a savage, merciless blow. The flames started to rise as the others turned toward him. They were unarmed. For a moment, I thought Torric would hesitate because of it. The death of the first man didn't quench the ferocity I saw within him. I blinked and he was suddenly upon the men with a thirst for their blood.

  He was like the wind, swinging his blade and hacking down every man in his path. Soon, they were running for their lives. Yet, he rushed to them, cutting them down as they fled. I thought perhaps some would escape, but Torric was faster, and soon all fifteen were dead or dying all around. For once, the need to heal did not overwhelm me. I just couldn’t feel for those men who sought to kill me for no reason other than my hair.

  “Torric!” He raced to me, heedless of the fierce flames, moving quickly onto the platform. Cutting me free, he slung me over his shoulder and jumped away from the platform and into a dead run. He raced for the forest, his arm gripping me tightly to him to keep me from bouncing off. Behind me, there were screams. They would come after us, I was sure of it. “We’ll never escape!”

  “Before I came to you, I freed their horses and chased them off. If we can get to our horses, we have a chance.” He kept running, and I silently implored the Spirits to help us make it as I bounced on his shoulder. Behind us, I couldn’t tell if they were coming after us or not.

  I shuddered. Never before had I come so close to death. Tears flowed freely, and I sobbed uncontrollably as Torric violently rushed on. “Are you hurt?” His voice was raw with anger and concern.

  “No, you got to me before the flames did.”

  We reached the horses, which he had tethered to a tree. He secured me on the saddle, swung up, and we were off, riding as hard as we could. I leaned back into him, absorbing his heat, his smell, and the safety of his arms. He kept rubbing my waist, as if he was reassuring himself that I was there, in his arms. We rode through the night and much of the next day. I slept on and off as we continued our mad dash.

  Eventually, however, we stopped. He jumped off the horse and then set me down gently. Unburdening the horses, he then tied them with a decent lead. I watched him as he silently got me my grandmother’s quilt and wrapped me up in it. The fact that he wasn’t speaking cut me. “Please speak to me,” I whispered huskily.

  He froze before taking a few steps away. Then, he said softly, “I nearly lost you.”

  “Torric, I’m alive.”

  He turned and rushed to me, hauling me up into his arms, crushing my body against his. “I thought I’d never see you again!”

  Then his mouth crashed down on mine as he kissed me hungrily, passionately, and for once, he didn’t slow down. Soon I was on my back, on the quilt. His hands ran over my body, grasping me in places no one had touched before. I trembled and moaned in his arms, my heart dancing from his touch. With great effort, he stopped kissing me and rose up enough to gaze down at me. “Tell me to stop,” he begged. “If you don’t tell me to stop, I won’t.”

  I smiled up at him and touched his cheek. “Don’t stop.”

  Fire flashed in his eyes and his mouth descended on mine again. I could feel his hands on my clothing. He lifted me up enough so that he could pull my shirt up and off. He paused, his eyes an inferno as he gazed down at me. Fervor filled my veins, and I turned away nervously from the raw, sensual need in his eyes. He grabbed my chin and gently drew my gaze back to his. His eyes were penetrating as he stared down at me; I felt them pierce my soul. Growling, he said, “Don’t look away. Don’t shy from me.”

  My breath caught and I nodded wordlessly. His eyes roamed over my breasts hungrily. Leaning forward, he started to kiss me again with a gentler urgency as his hands ran over my chest. I gasped as he softly stroked my exposed breasts. When his thumbs brushed over my nipples, my back arched up and I shivered. In the time I had known him, I hadn’t realized what it was I’d been craving, until he touched me like this.

  As he kissed me, his hand ran down my side and grasped my hip. He yanked my hips to him, and I let out the softest little noise of delight as I realized the intensity of his desire. When he lifted his body from mine just a little, I let out an angry noise even though his lips remained on mine. Soon, I realized he was liberating me of my skirt. I squirmed in his arms, feeling a fire course through my vein
s and sink deep into my core. I yearned for his touch and feared what it meant. But that fear was not enough to make me ask him to stop. In fact, excitement was dancing along my skin.

  When I was finally naked beneath him, his hands started to roam endlessly. From a cold place within me, I felt a fire, which ignited the heated passion already burning inside of me. All feelings of nervousness burned away at the intensifying ardor. My thoughts were consumed with him and being his. I leaned up and kissed him deeply, letting my tongue flicker into his mouth clumsily. When his tongue delved into my mouth, I suckled on it, and he moaned. I smiled as we kissed, reveling in my newfound power over him as his fingers brought me to life, my body writhing wildly under his command. Then, his hands made quick work of his pants. When he was free of them, he paused and gazed down at me while the fingers of one of his hands continued to stoke the inferno rising inside me. I whimpered as I looked up at him. He whispered one last time, “You’re sure?”

  I let out a small giggle. “You must have amazing resistance, because there’s no way I could say no to you right now.”

  He frowned and his hand stopped its delicious torment. “Do you want to say no?”

  I stared up at him. “I want to be yours, Torric of Glane. Yours and yours alone. Make me your woman.”

  He growled and lowered his lips to mine. When we finally joined, I made a little squeak. I wasn’t surprised at the flash of pain, but I was thankful it was brief. But that little squeak caused him to pause. He leaned up and his eyes ran over my face with a tender smile as he waited for me to get used to him. When he seemed satisfied that I was ready, he started rocking against me—slowly at first, but the intensity grew with each thrust. My breath came in quick, uncontrolled gasps. Soon, all my senses were flooded with the need to be like this forever. All there was in this world was the two of us as one.

  Need built within me, desire running like fire through my system. Pleasure coiled in my center, making me cry out. I didn’t think that there could be anything better than what I was feeling at that moment—until suddenly, there was. I screamed out as the waves took me, and when they subsided, I found myself cradled in his arms. We rested there, our eyes locked. For the first time in my life, I felt complete. Truly complete.

  Eventually, I drifted off in his arms. His heat surrounded me, his rich scent enveloped me. If I never woke up, it wouldn’t have mattered, because a deep sense of peace filled me.

  Chapter Seven

  When I awoke, I was shivering and alone, the homey scent of oatmeal filling the air. For a moment, I wondered if it had really happened. But it had. My soul almost flew away from me as shyness took hold, and I burrowed into the quilt, my hand wrapping around my pendant. Toward the fire came a laugh. “I’d like to have had you wake in my arms our first morning, but I want us to get a move on today. We don’t know if those villagers will pursue us, and I want to get some distance. I’ve made you breakfast, lass. Please come eat.”

  Sitting up, my eyes timidly turned his way and found his intense emerald gaze upon me. I smiled up at him and tore my eyes away. Everything that had happened in the night flooded through me. Glancing up at him again, I found him plating the food. Getting up, I moved to sit next to him, and he handed me breakfast. As I ate, I kept my eyes resolutely on the fire. I was far too embarrassed to look his way.

  When I finished, his hand softly took my chin and turned my face to his. Tenderly, his thumb stroked my cheek. “Do you regret it?”

  My eyes widened. “No! I could never regret that. Not…not with you.”

  Something relaxed in his eyes and he smiled. “Good. You just won’t look at me, and I was getting worried.”

  “It’s just…embarrassing.” My voice pitched a little high.

  He leaned over and kissed my brow softly. Fervently, he whispered, “Lass, don’t be embarrassed. It was fantastic.”

  I laughed and burrowed into his chest to hide from his gaze. Nuzzling my nose against him, I inhaled his intoxicating scent. He pulled me tightly to his chest and for a short while, we sat like that. My embarrassment left me, and only contentment remained as I felt the powerful, steady beat of his heart under my cheek. Then he reluctantly let me go. “I’m going to get the camp cleaned up. I want to get us out of here.”

  As he went about that, I went to my boxes because there was something I needed to make sure of. While I couldn’t heal myself, I could sense if there were any changes to my body or anything wrong with me. Glancing back, I found Torric occupied. I slipped my hand over my belly and let my senses sink into me. Once before, I had been able to tell that a woman was pregnant, and she hadn’t even missed her first cycle. So I searched myself, seeking that first spark of new life. There was nothing. For a moment, I didn’t know how to feel. Being on the road while pregnant would be hard, so a part of me was grateful. Still…the thought of not having a piece of him was upsetting. My mother had warned me once that it was notoriously difficult to get a female healer pregnant because of the toll healing took on the body. Considering the trip we had ahead of us, I decided that was a good thing. Besides, once we got to Kingshold, there was the real possibility that Torric might end this.

  The trouble was, if we were together intimately again, there was the risk of pregnancy no matter how small, and as long as I was on the road, I didn’t think it was a good idea. What if I miscarried or had some other sort of complication? There was no telling what would happen, which left only one thing that I could do. Opening the box, I pulled out a jar containing phellon. Phellon was good for many things, not the least of which was preventing pregnancy. Pulling out a small piece, I started to chew on the bitter root.

  “What are you doing?”

  I closed up the box and turned to him with a smile. “Just a little something to help me. Are we ready?”

  He nodded. “Just have to get the boxes up and your quilt put away.”

  I went and grabbed my quilt, folding it up before putting it back in the box. Inspecting the blue-gray fabric, I frowned with worry. Each day, it grew dingier, and it was in desperate need of a good washing. Probably some repairs as well. I hoped they wouldn’t be beyond my skill when the time came.

  Turning, I found Torric’s eyes on me. I gasped at the desire I found in his stare. In three quick steps, the gap between us closed, and his lips were on mine. For a moment, we kissed eagerly, and then he pulled back with a frown. “What is that bitter flavor?”

  “Phellon.”

  He frowned. “Why are you chewing that?”

  “Phellon is good for a lot of things.”

  For a brief moment, I thought hurt flashed in his eyes. “I know what phellon is good for. Why are you taking it?”

  I sighed softly. “You and I have a long way to travel. It would be a lot easier if I didn’t get pregnant on the way.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, and I could see when he changed his mind. Spinning from me, I thought he was going to finish loading up the horses, but he suddenly stopped. “Would it be so bad…to have my child?’

  Understanding dawned on me and I moved to him, curling up against to his back. “No. That would be amazing. But think about it. We have a long way to go. If I got pregnant, it could slow us down. Or it could be worse. What if there were complications? I can’t heal myself.”

  He turned back to me and pulled me into his chest. His lips gently brushed my temple, and contentment warmed my body. When I finally met his eyes, I could see the warmth within his gaze, and I couldn’t stop a smile from flirting with my lips.

  When he spoke, his tone had relaxed into its usual, rich warmth. “That makes sense. I should have thought of that. When I realized what you were chewing, I just assumed. I’m sorry.”

  With that, my heart eased. I glanced up at him before saying, “Honestly, your reaction surprises me. The last thing a man usually wants is to find out the woman he is not married to is pregnant.”

  His hand caressed my cheek tenderly. “Right. Marriage. Zianya?”

 
; “Yes?”

  He stared down at me for a long moment, his eyes intense. Then he shook his head and turned to finish putting the boxes on the packhorse. Walking over to me, he swept me into his arms before he placed me on his horse and swung up behind me. Then we were off at a canter. I could feel his anxiety to put distance between us and the village in the stiffness of his arms and body.

  We went on like that for the next five days, making great time toward the pass. We’d eat on the road, only stopping for brief breaks. We’d ride late into the night before we would find a campsite. After we’d eat, Torric would make love to me, and each time was better than the last as I became more comfortable with our intimacy. He’d wake me in the early dawn in his arms before we’d eat and move on.

  The closer we got to the Pass of Winds, however, the more restless he became.

  “What is it that’s got you nervous?” I asked one evening.

  He gazed up at me over our dinner. For a moment, I didn’t think he’d answer me, but then he sighed. “Getting through the pass on my own was hard. I didn’t have horses or you. There’s a path that isn’t guarded, but it’s treacherous.”

  Amusement filled me. “You’re worried I’ll slow you down.”

  He chuckled. “No. I’m worried about you getting hurt. As I said, it’s treacherous. Most places are barely wide enough for a horse.”

  I glanced over at the pack animal. Biting my bottom lip, I tried to contain my disappointment as I asked, “You want me to leave my things?”

  There was a long pause. Finally, he said, “When we pack tomorrow, necessities come with us. We’ll bring both horses and see how it goes.”