He turned to her and handed her the glass. “Follow our back trail.”
Focusing the glass, she scanned the ground they had covered, intently peering through the glass. Movement. Two gray shapes, trotting along easily. “Goddess, Eric. Fell wolves.”
“Yes. Now look behind them.”
She tore herself away from watching certain death or capture approach. “Lizard men. Krakoll’s killers.” She collapsed the spyglass. “How far ahead are we?”
“We have about a four-hour head start. I’m sorry, Sophi, back on your horse.”
Every joint in her body protested movement. Her normal easy vault to mount became a study in ludicrous, uncoordinated squirming. She finally swung her leg over the horse’s back and straightened. “How much further to the shield wall gate?”
“Another five to six hours of hard riding. They will probably send the wolves ahead. If we can outrun the wolves, we might have a chance.” His eyes asked a question she dreaded answering.
“I can do it, Eric.” I hope.
He nodded and kicked his horse into a gallop. Fisting her hands into her mount’s mane, she followed.
She could not remember a more tortuous ride. When they had to slow for the horses to catch their wind, Eric brought out the spyglass and tracked the figures following them. The forbidding set to his mouth told her everything she didn’t want to know about their pursuers.
“How can they be gaining on us? How?” she asked.
“They don’t have to stop. It is part of their genetic mutation. Each time we must rest the horses, the wolves gain on us. Ten minutes here, twenty minutes there. It adds up.”
Finally she voiced aloud the question shadowing both of them. “Will we make it before they catch us?”
“It’s going to be a near thing, Sophi. If they reach us, you must ride hard for the gate. No slowing down for any reason.” He held her eyes steadily.
“What? What do you mean? Oh, no. No!” She shook her head vigorously. “No. I won’t do it. I won’t be separated from you. You aren’t staying behind to die so I can ride to safety. We are going through that gate together.”
“Only if there is no other choice, Sophi. I don’t like my chances against two Fell wolves. But it may be the only way to get you to safety.”
“No, it won’t come to that.” She whipped her flagging mount into a canter and rode eastward.
“There, Sophi! Do you see the break in the diamond haze?” Eric shouted to her as their horses labored on, though themselves exhausted, now spurred by the banshee howls of the Fell wolves now within sight.
“Yes! I see it!” She reined her animal toward it and prayed. Not native to Verdantia, the wolves couldn’t cross the energy field. The gate meant safety.
She kept glancing back as they approached the gate. The Fell wolves gained ground inexorably. It seemed the distance to the gate grew while the distance to the death that chased them shrank. Her fight to contain her panic matched her struggle to stay on her floundering horse. The poor creature was at its limit. So was she.
“Sophi, ride harder. Go!”
As she whipped her horse uselessly, she glanced back. “No!” she shrieked. “No, Eric! No!”
While her animal pounded toward the shimmering gate and safety, Eric had drawn up, turned his undersized desert mount and waited, resolute, for the snarling predators.
She sawed on the reins, but the Fell wolves managed what her whip could not. Her horse bolted in mindless terror. Her arms lacked the strength to do anything but hang on. She careened through the shimmering gate into safety.
She heard the sentry’s cries of, “Halt! Halt!” Finally, her mount responded to her commands to slow and she pulled into a circle in the garrison yard.
“Commander DeStroia is on the other side of that gate under attack! I am Lady Sophillia Glorianna DeLorion. I command you, help him, now! Help him!” Not waiting to see the results of her screamed orders, she lashed her horse back through the shimmering gate, reaching into her quiver for an arrow. Hang on, Eric. A sob rose in her chest. Please, please, hang on.
If she had allowed any thought to penetrate her concentration, she would have screamed in terror. Eric hacked and stabbed violently, frantically, at one of the great creatures while the other circled warily, looking for an opening. He will die mere feet from safety!
She did not think about her actions. There was no time. Nocking an arrow, she let it fly, striking the circling beast in the side of his gaping mouth. I missed! Oh, Goddess, I missed. With a bellow of pain, it swung its crazed red eyes to her. Changing its direction, the abomination began stalking her, its low-slung pace quickening into a slow run. Her heart beat into her throat. Goddess, help me. What have I done!
Eric’s horse screamed and crashed to the earth, pulled off its feet by the momentum of the wolf lunging for its rider. He spilled beside it in a sprawling slide.
Eric!
He jumped to his feet to meet the snarling attack of the unnatural fiend. If he would die in the jaws of a Fell wolf, then so would she. She grabbed another arrow from her quiver. And like Eric, I will fight every step of the way. As she sighted down her arrow—Ppfftt! Ppfftt! Ppfftt!—a cluster of slim metal bolts bloomed in the face of the springing Fell wolf.
Five riders had burst through the shield wall gate. Wicked, repeating crossbows hurled flight after flight of metal quarrels into the pair of huge beasts. In frenzied madness, the creatures bit and clawed at the swarm of needle-sharp bolts, distracted from their prey.
“Eric, run! Run!” she screamed. Sophi lashed her horse toward him. She held out her arm and he swung up behind. Turning, she whipped into a gallop and pounded back through the shield wall gate.
Once again, she hauled at the reins fruitlessly. When her horse staggered to a halt, nose pressed to the walls of the courtyard, she sat motionless upon its back, numb, a breath away from crumpling into a shapeless heap in the dirt. Eric slid to the ground and held his arms out to her. “Sophi, slide down. I’ll catch you.”
She fell into his stalwart, waiting arms. But for his support, she would have collapsed at his feet. Nothing in her life’s memory felt better than the warm beat of his heart pressed against her cheek. He lived.
She allowed his steadfast warmth to envelop her in comfort for a long moment before reaction set in. She raised her fists and pummeled his chest. “You could have died! Do you hear me? You could have died!” She wrapped his neck in a stranglehold and buried her face in his chest to keep from sobbing aloud. In a broken voice, she whispered, “You could have died.”
The dirt-laden sweat dampening her cheek, the smell of unwashed male, the scrape of his unshaven cheek, all suddenly seemed inexpressibly dear proof he lived.
“But I didn’t. My brave Sophi. I didn’t.” She felt his ribs heave a heavy sigh. “You disobeyed me, Sophi, and almost got killed yourself. What am I going to do with you?”
He bent slightly, picked her up in his arms and carried her into the sentry house. She wondered at her easy acceptance of his hold, of his touch, of his command.
“Commander DeStroia.” The outpost commander snapped to attention with a salute. “What in the seven hells is going on! Ah...sir.”
“Sergeant Trecchio, is there somewhere I can sit with Lady DeLorion? Oh, and attend to our horses.” Sophi felt Eric sway though his arms still held her securely.
“Right here, sir.” The sergeant dragged a sturdy chair out from behind the desk.
Eric’s descent into the chair resembled more of a jolting fall than a sit. Her own pain mattered little to her, but she did notice his soft grunt of pain. As Sergeant Trecchio’s voice kept up a steady barrage of complaint, she unwrapped her arms from Eric’s neck. Raising her head to his ear, she murmured in a soft undertone, “Put me down. You are hurt. I can stand.”
His answer reached only her ears. “Stay. I’ll deal with the discomfort. I like having you in my arms.” Amusement lurked in his tone. “I am certain of your whereabouts.” Trecchio’s
voice maintained a constant drone in the background.
For the first time in her twenty-four years, she chose to relax in the arms of a man. Snuggling her face into his shoulder, she closed her eyes and listened to the bass rumble of Eric’s voice and the shrill tenor of Sergeant Trecchio. I am so very, very tired.
“…and with all due respect, sir, why the hell do we have Fell wolves prowling outside the gate? I thought we got rid of those vile creatures. And while we are at it, will you please explain the two lizard-men who rode in hard on their heels. What the fuck is going on here—sir—with all due respect to the lady present.” Trecchio’s tenor voice warbled into mezzo-soprano range.
Sophi pressed her face into Eric’s rough robe and smiled at Eric’s long-suffering sigh.
The crusty sergeant barely took a breath in his recount of their various calamities. “I don’t have the manpower to deal with this! We’re scraping by to man this gate as it is, sir. We can’t protect every temperamental, highborn female who endangers herself by…...ah…did you say Lady DeLorion? As in Segundo DeLorion’s sister?” Trecchio swallowed audibly then continued in a quieter, though still begrudging, voice. “Well, doesn’t matter who she is, we don’t have the manpower—sir.”
“I understand, Sergeant. The Tetriarch is stretched beyond its limit to man these sigil gates, but for this woman, you will make an exception. I need four of your men to ride back to Sylvan Mintoth with us.”
“Siiirr!” Trecchio’s voice soared again into the upper registers with shock and horror.
Sophi heard Eric swear under his breath. “Blasted non-com upstart. You would have thought I’d asked to fuck his wife.” She knew Eric could feel her shoulders shaking in silent laughter.
“Sergeant Trecchio, we have more problems than just two Fell wolves and a couple of lizard-men. There are two battalions of Haarb infantry between us and Sh’r Un Kree but first and foremost I need to get Lady DeLorion safely into her brother’s custody. We had a brutal ride through the wastelands.” She felt his chin nod, indicating her. “So, please prepare quarters for Lady DeLorion.” There was no mistaking the growing anger in Eric’s voice. Even Trecchio was not stupid enough to cross Eric at this point.
“Ah, yes, sir.” There was a slight hesitation in Trecchio’s voice. “She may have my quarters and you may take Corporal Saunders’s, sir. They are the best we have.”
“Many thanks. We won’t put you out long. Perhaps a day. And I need to post a dispatch letter to Segundo DeLorion by your fastest courier.”
“Yes, sir.” Trecchio’s voice trailed off, defeated. “Ahhh, if you would like, Lady DeLorion can have my quarters immediately. I believe the bed linens are clean.”
She slowly unwound herself from Eric’s neck. Turning with care, she bestowed her best and most brilliant, “gracious-lady-of-the-manor” smile on the crusty old sergeant. “Lady DeLorion would like that very much, Sergeant. And if possible some water and a cloth with which to wash the worst of the grime away. Oh, yes, and a medical kit, please.”
The testy old non-com got his first close look at her. He stood as if be-spelled. “My Lady, ma’am, ahh, ahh, yes. Right away. Ahh, yes. Right away.” His eyes proclaimed her a goddess and he, her slave. She appreciated, anew, Eric’s matter-of-fact acceptance of her appearance without comment.
Eric rose with a grunt of effort while she clung to his neck. “Just show us the way, Sergeant.”
With a sinking heart, she watched the formerly belligerent sergeant shake himself like a dog emerging from a lake. It starts again.
“Ah, yes, sir. Just follow me, please.” As the sergeant backed out the door, his eyes never stopped worshipping Sophi.
* * *
“I’ll see to the wash water and the medical kit, ma’am. Is there anything else? Anything at all? Food? I can bring more pillows or blankets,” Trecchio said.
“Not right now, Sergeant. Thank you.” Sophi smiled at the old officer.
Eric cleared his throat in irritation. “I’ll make Lady DeLorion comfortable, then I’ll be back to fill you in on the situation, Sergeant Trecchio.”
Sophi watched as the sergeant backed through the door, staring at her all the while like a moonstruck bedlamite. The closing door slowly cut off his view. She heard his steps clump down the outside hall. The spartan living quarters held only her and Eric.
“Eric, you can put me down, now.”
One strong arm gradually loosened and her legs met the floor, leaving her pressed against his chest, her eyes on his face, her arms still wrapped around his neck. He held her to him with both arms and rested his forehead on hers. “We have much to discuss, but right now, rest, Sophi.” When she began to speak, he raised a gentle hand and cupped her cheek, resting his thumb across her lips to quiet her. “Shh. Just rest.”
At her silent nod, he released her and crossed to the door. “I’ll be back to check on you, Flight Leader.” She watched him slip through the opened door. His booted feet clumped along the wooden floor as he walked away.
The narrow, tautly-made bed beckoned like the gates to heaven. She did not even undress. Sleep claimed her as her head hit the pillow.
* * *
Eric forced one foot in front of the other. Fatigue crushed him. He fought a battle of self-discipline with every footstep. The wall became a convenient leaning post. The floor sang a siren’s song of enticement. Sliding down to the wooden planking and never getting up seemed a magnificent idea. Damnation, I am getting some sleep. Everything else can wait. Turning on his heel, he walked back, reading the name cards on the doors. Stopping in front of the room labeled “Corporal Saunders”, he knocked. Hearing no reply, he opened the door, walked straight to the bed and fell face first onto the mattress. I should take my boots off, preceded his slide into oblivion.
* * *
A soft hand pushed hair back from Eric’s face. Damn-it all, I just lay down. Whoever you are, go away.
He resisted opening his eyes. To him, the rope-sprung, narrow mattress felt like a palatial bed fit for a potentate. He spoke into the coarse woven blanket covering the bed. “Go away. No, wait! First, pull my boots off.”
“Commander? Eric? You have slept for the better part of a day.” Sophi’s gentle prodding finally took effect. Wincing, he rolled over and blinked at her from eyelids so heavy he swore his horse sat on. Won’t stay open. He left them closed.
“Mmmph. Sophi. What?”
“May I look at your wound?”
“You may do anything you want with me as long as it doesn’t involve leaving this bed.”
Silence met his offer. He ordered the ponderous animal off his eyelids and squinted at Sophi. She stared unseeing out the room’s only window. Damnation, she is lovely. “I meant that exactly as you took it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Then you won’t mind taking off your pants.”
A smile pulled the corner of his mouth. “If I didn’t know you better, Flight Leader, I would think you had designs on me.”
He undid the fastenings and slipped them down to his knees. “Anymore and you will need to help me with my boots.”
“Umm.” She covered his privates and began to wet the bandaging on his groin. “I don’t want to open anything beginning to close. This may take a while.”
Fully awake, he put his arms behind his head and studied her. “Sophi, your brother told me the Haarb held you captive for three years and what they did to you left you ‘reserved’ with men. I think he didn’t want to put into words what happened to you and I am not going to ask. But, I would like to know one thing.”
She looked up and cleared her throat nervously. “What?”
“Did your experience with the Haarb make you afraid of what happens between a man and a woman?”
“You mean has it made me afraid of sex?”
“Yes. That’s what I meant.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Ah, sweetheart. “Sophi, it is nothing to be ashamed of if you are. The Haarb are not known for being kind to their captives.”
&n
bsp; Her aqua eyes flashed at him, angry. Mmm, there is the Sophi I know.
“Three years ago, yes. I was afraid. Two years ago, yes. I was afraid. But now?” She drew a deep breath. “With the right man, no. No, I am not afraid of sex.” She held her head up proudly and met him with a forthright gaze.
And your pause makes me think that you are but your pride will not permit a show of weakness. It’s a beginning I can work with.
What she saw on his face he didn’t know, but when he smiled and said, “I’m glad,” she fumbled the wet bandage so badly she spilled the contents of the water basin in his lap. Cold wetness saturated his groin and puddled beneath him. With a muttered oath, he dug his fingers into the side of the mattress and tried to relax. “Damnation, Sophi!”
“By the seven hells. I am getting more water. Don’t move.” She marched out of the room as if she was a water witch and the basin her divining rod.
Where does she think I’ll go? He settled back, closed his eyes and dozed off.
Mmm. Soft hands. Gentle. He peered down his torso. She had gotten all the old bandaging removed and was examining his healing wound. Can’t see a thing.
“Am I going to live, Flight Leader?”
“With your skills the probability is rather good, as long as you stay away from Fell wolves.” A delicate shudder ran the length of her and she returned to dealing with his injury. Her hands paused and her voice softened. “I feared I would watch you die.”
“I’m a very hard man to kill, Sophi.”
She echoed his earlier words. “I’m glad.”
She winced slightly, looking at his wound. “You are going to have an ugly scar but the wound is healing.”
He shrugged. “It will match all the others.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” For far more than just food. “Shall we see what there is to eat at this outpost?”
“Hmm, yes.” She made quick work of bandaging him and with a pat to his hip, stood. “You are good.”
Eric chuckled. “No, I am not. But you are safe from me at the moment.”
Hers To Choose (Verdantia Book 2) Page 7