“We made love that very night. I secretly led you up the back stairway, telling myself all along that it would be only that one time, that I was curious and lonely and you were more than willing, so what was the harm? With your good looks and your strength and your manliness, I assumed you were an experienced lover, but it was your first time.” If she had known he’d never lain with a woman, perhaps she would’ve had more control that night.
“I was already in love,” Savyn said softly. “I was foolishly saving myself for you. I still don’t remember the details of that night, but I can imagine how happy I must’ve been.”
“You should not remember love,” Leyla said.
“You took away the memories of our relationship,” he said. “I was in love with you long before any sort of relationship began. You didn’t take that away. You could not.”
“I thought you said . . .” She remembered too well what he had said. He did not love her, and if he ever had, it was now gone. She’d killed it.
“I lied to hurt you,” he said harshly. “To hurt you and to set you free from the burden I have become. I cannot stay angry with you, Leyla, no matter how I wish to do so. I still plan to go my own way, once we reach the village. That has not changed. It’s best for you.”
Leyla scooted closer to Savyn and placed her head against his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, as she had so many times before, and she took comfort in the steady sound. “Perhaps, perhaps not.”
“You do not think I will do as I say?”
Hurting and scared, she still managed a smile. “I cannot tell you how many nights we said it was the last time. We both knew there was no future in our relationship, that if we ever got caught, it would be disastrous for both of us. And yet we continued to find ways to be together. One night I would vow to let you go, and the next I was meeting you in the stable, or you were sneaking up the back stairway, or I was opening my window to you. It’s not so easy to give up something you want so desperately, even if you know it’s not good for you or for someone else.” Someone you love—she could not say that.
“More than two years, and you did not catch a child,” Savyn said. “Why? Is one of us unable?”
“At first we were just lucky, I suppose, but soon after we began meeting, I started taking a potion to keep me from conceiving. It was the same potion I secretly took while my husband was living.”
“You don’t want babies?”
“I did not want his.”
It was likely too late for her, even if she did dream of children. She was thirty-four years old and had never given birth. Yes, she had the body of a younger woman, thanks to her witch’s blood, but still . . . thirty-four!
“Are you taking that potion now?” Savyn asked.
“No. I saw no need.” For the past two years she had taken what she wanted from Savyn, losing herself in him, taking her only joy in life from their time together. He made her laugh, he made her scream in pleasure, he made her dream of all the wonders of life she could never have, and yet the dream continued.
“And now?” he asked.
Leyla imagined the emperor’s sentinels searching for and finding what remained of the traveling party Trinity had decimated. She’d heard Hilde’s screams, so she knew the other woman was dead. Would they think the body in the carriage was that of Lady Leyla Hagan? Would the world believe she was gone? The very idea made her feel suddenly and wonderfully free.
“You might not agree, you might think I’m incredibly foolish, but I’m going to tell you what I want to happen next.”
“Tell me,” Savyn whispered, when she did not immediately continue.
All her life she had allowed choices to be made for her. She had bemoaned her lot in life and done nothing to change it. This was her chance, perhaps her last and only chance, to make her life what she wished it to be. Was she brave enough to say what was in her heart?
“If I could choose,” she said softly, “if I could have all that I desired . . . I would want us to stay here a while longer.”
“In this hut?” he asked, amazed. “Maybe I can’t see it now, but I do remember well what it looks like. It’s small and dirty and falling apart . . .”
“I’ve cleaned it very well,” Leyla interrupted. “And I’ve moved things around a bit, separating what’s useful from what’s not. The hut is not as bad as it was when we first found it.”
“Still, it’s hardly what you are accustomed to.”
She did not tell Savyn this place was not so very different from the house where she’d been born. “Not for very long, just . . . I want to take time enough for you to heal, to wait awhile and see if your sight will return, and I enjoy being alone with you. I like having you all to myself.”
“I’m blind.”
“You’re Savyn, and that’s all that matters to me.” How honest could she—should she—be? If she was going to be straightforward with him, perhaps she could not hold back, not anymore. “I would never let myself love you before, because I knew it was foolish. I told myself we could never be together, that we could never have more than stolen moments. I told myself again and again that it was wrong to keep you from finding a love you could proclaim to the world, a love you did not have to be ashamed of. We can be together now, if we wish.”
“Is that what you want?”
She was laying her heart out for a man who had reason to hate her, to squash her, to decimate her. It was more frightening than facing an assassin, more terrifying than not knowing what tomorrow would bring. “Yes, more than anything. I want us to stay here, as if we were man and wife and this was our home. I will call you my husband, if you’ll let me, and we will lie together each night. We will learn, in time, if what we have is more than forbidden passion, if it’s more than sex and laughter. True love survives tragedy, it lives through hardships as well as happiness. Maybe your sight will return, maybe it will not. I don’t care, and if you love me at all, you’ll allow me to help you. You’ll allow us to try to live a normal life, together.”
In the moment of silence that followed, Leyla held her breath and waited for Savyn to tell her again that he did not need or want her.
“We are not normal,” he said.
“True enough. You’re blind and I’m an old witch.”
“What a perfect pair we make,” he responded.
Leyla smiled. Savyn laughed. And then somehow she was in his arms and the night was not so black.
BELA was breathless, though she did everything in her power not to let Merin see the weakness. They had traveled from the ledge where they’d spent that first night to a ragged passageway near the top of the mountain. The passage had been rough, but they had managed. They’d found water, they’d slept when it was necessary, they’d clung to one another in the night and not spoken of their uncertainties or of the child she might be carrying. The nights had been chilly and they’d had no fire to warm them, so they’d had to rely on one another for warmth. They’d held one another, but it had gone no further. She would not make the next move, not when Merin was so obviously hesitant.
In a matter of days, they’d traveled over the summit of Forbidden Mountain and down a rugged path to recover what they had left behind when they’d entered the small cave where Kitty had been discovered years ago. The last time she and Merin had been there they had found . . . well, she did not want to think of what they had found there. It was best to leave it all behind, to forget, for now. She tried to think ahead. They were not horribly behind schedule, as they had planned to have a few days to search this part of the mountain.
She felt as if they had been on this mountain far longer than they had. Three days up, a long a day inside the mountain, then another four days to get back to the original campsite. There would be another three days getting off the mountain and to the village, which by her reckoning would give them only three days to prepare for Nobel’s visit. They had been on this mountain more than long enough!
Bela was damn tired of sleeping on bare rock and ea
ting the bitter leaves Merin had insisted on taking from the waterfall site. She had never thought to be glad to eat a cold, hard oatcake! Tonight she would sleep on a blanket, and perhaps, if they traveled to the creek and collected some wood, they could have a fire.
Their campsite was exactly as they had left it, except there was no longer an entrance to the mountain there. Rocks small and large blocked the way; the face of the mountain had changed here. Kitty was in there, deep in the rock and alone, hidden from the world for the time being.
Was it foolish to miss a sword the way one might miss a friend? Was it shallow of her to long to have the magic of the sword in her possession again? Not that she had ever possessed Kitty. Kitty might’ve possessed her. Yes, that was closer to the truth.
With their packs and blankets recovered, she and Merin made their way back down the mountain. There was still so much to be decided. It wasn’t as though she did not want Merin, and she knew very well that he wanted her. Men were so easy to understand in that respect, especially when they slept so close at night.
But was the wanting real? When they reached the village and were without the influence of the crystals which wanted their child, would they feel this same incredible draw to one another?
They did spend that night by the creek, and there was a warming fire and fresh water. There were blankets, fire, and food—of sorts. There was little conversation and not even a hint that Merin still desired her. Exhausted, they slept deeply. The next morning they rose early and began again.
It was not long into the day before they passed the site of the attack, and though she claimed to be as tough as any man, Bela quickly turned away. There were no wild animals on this mountain. The power of the crystals kept life away, she knew that now. But buzzards had been drawn to the dead and had done their work well. The two bodies which remained on this plateau had been picked practically clean. Had the crystals called the buzzards here to clean up what was left of the invaders who had been so foolish as to come here?
Though he did not dare to do so openly, Merin protected her from the gruesome sight by always managing to place his body between her and the remains. She would not think of chastising him for being so protective. Not now, when she appreciated his efforts so much. Not now, when she understood him. He was a good man, through and through.
They were well away from the site of the battle when he suggested that they stop for a few minutes. She would not argue with him, not when she wanted nothing more than to rest, even if for a short while.
He leaned against a rock wall and studied her in that intense way he had. Dark eyes smart, and even cunning and dangerous, looked her up and down before he asked, “Have you felt the influence of Kitty or any of her kind since we left the waterfall?”
“No,” Bela said. “But just because we can’t feel their influence, does that mean it isn’t there?”
“Not necessarily, but I suspect we’re safer with distance. Otherwise . . .”
“Otherwise there would have been chaos in the village long ago.”
“Exactly.”
Bela glanced up, grateful for the distance between her and the crystals. “They must scare away the miners who come too close,” she said. “All through the mountain range there are Turi miners digging and panning for gems, but there’s no one here. Even though the mountain is forbidden, surely some brave ones came exploring, or got lost as Clyn did. And yet, they did not stay. They knew, as the animals have known, that they are not welcomed here, not as we were welcome. The crystals scare away what they do not want on their lands. They influence all that they can.”
“That makes sense,” Merin said casually.
Bela narrowed her eyes. “So, it makes sense that where their influence ends is where we will begin to see people and animals again.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think buzzards count.”
Merin almost smiled. His lips twitched a little.
“What are we going to do?” she asked bluntly. She wasn’t sure if Merin was still considering staying married to her, or if he planned to ride away and leave her behind. Surely he would not think of offering her to his emperor, not after all they had been through. They could cut the rope that bound them at any time, and just tell the others, when they returned to the village, that they’d changed their minds about dissolving the marriage—Merin’s blasted honor about breaking his word aside. She could do the cutting, if he refused. Some would talk, yes, but did she really care? They would be married, and that was all that mattered to her.
Was it important that Merin had not touched her since he’d seen the cavern carvings? Had the destiny portrayed on those walls frightened him away from her?
“We should arrive in the village in two and a half days, if we do not tarry,” he said.
“Yes,” she responded, knowing full well how far they had to travel.
This time he did smile, and it was lovely. “Once we’re there and Forbidden Mountain is behind us, I suggest we present ourselves to your parents, tell them we intend to remain married, and cut the cord together.”
Bela almost sighed in relief, and then Merin said,
“Unless . . .”
“Unless what?” she snapped.
“Unless once we get to the village, we realize that what we’ve been experiencing has not been real. If either of us decides marriage is not what we want, then we will remain bound until the dissolution is complete. Just a few more days, Bela.”
It had been on her mind, so she had to ask. “Is that why you have not touched me since we left the mountain? Are you less than sure?”
Dark eyes smoldered. “I am very sure of what I want,” Merin said, “and I do not expect to change my mind. I rarely do. However, I’m not so certain about you.”
“Me? ”
“You have never cared for marriage before now.”
“You were not here,” she said honestly.
“And you’re a little twitchy without Kitty. You’re uncertain and worried and maybe a little obsessed. You miss her too much.”
“How do you know all that?” she asked, annoyed. Could he reach into her mind as Kitty had done?
“It’s on your face, Bela. I see it well.”
It was true enough that she had never been good at hiding her feelings, and Merin knew her as well as anyone else. Perhaps better than anyone else. “I don’t expect to change my mind, either,” she said.
“Even if marriage to me means your daughter will be a warrior? ”
Her heart skipped a beat. That possibility still concerned her greatly. There could already be a daughter, conceived on that night—or that morning—before they had entered the mountain. Then again, the destined warrior might not yet exist, not even as a seed in her belly. It was just too soon to tell. “You said we could make our own destiny.”
“I hope we can,” he said softly.
She could see very well the life she might make with Merin. Here or in his world, in Arthes, it did not matter where. She could imagine, so well, sleeping with him each night. She could almost see their children, boys and girls with their father’s strength and their mother’s stubbornness. That should be terrifying, but somehow the idea was soothing and heartwarming. She wanted it so much. Would she feel the same way when they were off this blasted rock?
Yes, yes she would. There was no magic in the feelings she experienced, none other than that which they made.
“I can’t imagine myself married to any other man,” Bela said softly. “I can’t imagine giving myself body and soul to any other.” If she was going to open her heart and bleed, she might as well go all the way. “I would rather die.”
“You have ruined me for other women, Bela,” Merin said. “There is not another like you.”
Frustration caught up with her. “So why haven’t you touched me in more days than I can count?”
Again he seemed to smolder. “If we both feel the same way once we get to the village, then trust me, you will not be safe for very long.”
Bela managed a smile. “I do not wish to be safe, not from you.” She leaned slightly toward him, already thinking again of keeping him as her husband and what they would be like in the years to come. Her imagination was quite vivid in that respect.
Would their emotions change when they were off Forbidden Mountain? If Merin did not feel the same when they left this place, if he did not look at her this way and speak so wonderfully of keeping her, she would let him go. Even if she was already with child, even if they had to remain husband and wife, separated by the distance of a great country, she would let him go and she would raise her child alone.
And she would never love another man. She would have dreams of Merin, and they would have to be enough. “Time to get moving,” she said, leading the way down the path as quickly as was safe. She would not know what her future held until they were off this blasted rock!
Chapter Sixteen
GOING down the mountain was a bit less arduous than going up, but no less dangerous, especially on the steepest part of the journey. They stopped to sleep when darkness and exhaustion made it necessary, but they were both anxious to get to the village as soon as possible. Neither was pleased that they were behind schedule, thanks to the treacherous mountain exit that had dumped them out on the wrong side.
Near the foot of the mountain the curves flattened and the jagged rocks smoothed somewhat. When it was possible, they ran. Not that either of them could get very far from the other, with the braided rope connecting them. Merin sometimes purposely fell behind just so he could watch Bela run. No other woman moved as she did, no other would find such joy in racing down a mountainside. Yes, he loved her. That would not change. He would not allow it.
After nearly three weeks of suffering at their hands, the once bright red, white, and black braid that stretched between them was dulled and frayed. It was gray in many places and appeared weak in others, but the rope remained strong, as a proper marriage should in times of trouble. Perhaps this marriage dissolution ceremony was not a ridiculous Turi custom after all. Perhaps it was very, very smart.
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