A Warrior's Heart

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A Warrior's Heart Page 33

by DL O'Neal

"Exactly."

  "But what about Krthe? How did you know?"

  Drakthe became fascinated by a bright curl of hair resting on her shoulder. Playing with it, he gave himself a moment to collect himself. Although no stranger to betrayal, somehow Krthe's went deeper than he wanted to admit, even to his bondwife. He felt vulnerable. Most of all, he felt like a fool. Over the years, he'd almost convinced himself Krthe looked on him as a son. Jkael knew he'd looked on Krthe as a father, idiot that he was. Instead he had found he was just another tool to be used and then discarded. The knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  "Drakthe?"

  Reluctantly, he looked into Cheyna's eyes. At the softness he found there he no longer felt so foolish. One day soon, he'd confess what he'd discovered in Krthe's journals. "Only one thing set me apart--my ability to make the krees glow. When I realized that, a lot of small, seemingly disjoined facts came together. I remembered that when he stopped to observe the fight between me and his assassin, the krees was glowing with all the fear and fury a young boy could feel. From there I added the way I could go into your mind, and you into mine. Also, someone knew enough to use my mental powers to breach to yours. The reason Krthe took me into his House wasn't a sense of compassion but the recognition that someday he could use me to bring to fruition his twisted obsession." Drakthe glanced away for a moment. "I was just too foolish to see his motivation."

  "He was the fool." Her hand came up to rest alongside his jaw. "He threw away your loyalty and love for a power he was never destined to have."

  Her ability to read his emotions shouldn't have surprised him anymore, but somehow it did. Drakthe waited for the uneasiness that usually accompanied her insight. It never materialized. With a sense of surprise, Drakthe realized it no longer bothered him. He held her hand against his face. Turning his head, he pressed a soft kiss in the center of her palm. "I'll never throw your loyalty and love away."

  She smiled gently. "I know."

  They stayed that way until Drakthe finally broke the spell. "By the way, House-daughter, when were you going to tell me you had turned down the office of Great Lord?" He bit her finger. Cheyna snatched her hand away and hid it behind her back.

  "How did you find out?" She backed a step, eyeing him warily.

  "Never mind how I found out, what I want to know is why?" For every step she took back, he took one forward. Drakthe hid a grin. He could practically see her mind spinning as she sought to come up with an explanation for why she kept the news from him.

  "The office of Great Lord is no longer necessary. It's been in disuse for a generation. I think it best if it stays that way."

  "Because your father was murdered?" Drakthe wasn't sure why he was pressing her like this. Jkael knew he didn't crave being the Great Lord's mate. He guessed he just had to know if she was giving it up because of him or because she really didn't want it.

  She nodded. "Partly. That kind of power is rather scary." She quit backing, seeming to perceive he wasn't truly upset. "Mostly because I don't need it and neither does Scimtar. The system we have works. I did speak with the High Council, however." She peeped through her lashes at him.

  "And?"

  "And I told them I would accept a seat on the Council in lieu of the Great Lord's office."

  "What of your foster mother's position as Advisor to the Great Lord? By refusing the Great Lord's office, aren't you cutting the ties between Scimtar and Rpiere?"

  Cheyna was already shaking her head. "No. I accepted on the condition that Raipierians continue to hold the position of Advisor--only this time to the Council."

  "So, in essence, the Council has two new members." He admired her solution to what could have been a sticky problem.

  "The ties between the Rpiere and Scimtar have lasted thousands of years. I could not be the one to sever them. This way tradition is not lost."

  Drakthe remembered the purpose of his visit. "I answered a summons from the Coalition of Traders today." He had applied for the title of Trade Baron at his bondwife's urging. Krthe's death left a vacancy and, according to Cheyna, there was no reason he shouldn't get it. For who knew more about trade routes than the Merchant Master?

  "Do not keep me in suspense, Drakthe. What did they have to say?"

  "They were not inclined to grant me title until I pointed out my affinity, through my bonding to you, with the Agora NaturPaths and the planet of Rpiere. Also, it didn't hurt to intimate I might take my family and my supply of crystal to Rpiere, giving the merchants of Scimtar severe competition from the Raipier. The light of sweet reason began to shine then."

  "Ah, bondmate, I always did admire your negotiating abilities."

  "Saints, woman, dare you tease your lord and master?" he thundered, swooping her up in his arms and tossing her onto the middle of the wide pallet. Drakthe stood beside the pallet, trying to maintain his show of outraged indignation. Leisurely, he removed his waist pouch, holding it up so Cheyna had a clear view of it.

  "You do not deserve the present I have brought for you," he taunted.

  Cheyna smiled seductively. "I most humbly beg my lord's pardon," she whispered in a low, throaty voice.

  "Hah!" Drakthe said as he landed on the pallet beside her. An outraged Paldin stalked off Cheyna's pillow, tail in the air, and climbed the headboard. The tiny animal stared at Drakthe with an unblinking gaze, hissed, then curled into a tight ball, his back turned to the usurper. Drakthe contemplated hissing back before dismissing the irritating pest. He returned to teasing his bondwife instead.

  "You fool me not in the slightest. Haughty, demanding woman. I am simply a poor slave to lust." He twisted his expression in an amicable leer.

  Drakthe worked at the tiny knot closing the pouch. "I suppose if I do not show you what I have brought, I will get no peace." He exhaled lustily and tipped the amranth-tinted moonsilk, sliding the contents into his bondwife's lap.

  His bondwife didn't speak.

  "Do you like it?" he asked, unable to keep a hint of vulnerability from his voice.

  "Like it? Drakthe, it is the most beautiful sheathe and krees pendant I have ever seen. The craftsmanship is exquisite. But, how?" She touched the small set, exploring its detail.

  "What is the sense in owning the finest jewel-quality stone on the planet if you are unable to have some for yourself? I took the stones to the same craftsman who worked your baldric and told him exactly what I wanted." He plucked the pendant from her lap. "Here, let me fasten it for you."

  Brimming with emotion, Cheyna obediently bent her head, holding her hair out of his way. She felt Drakthe fumbled with the minuscule clasp. Once it was secured, he placed a kiss on her nape.

  The miniature sheathe and krees rested between her breasts. She scooted over so she was under the liquid crystal lamp and peered into the crystal's heart.

  Stars of every color of the Prisma, alive and ever-changing, swirled and formed. One stood out. A gold sun burned with a steady flame. Cheyna glanced at the pendant she had placed around Drakthe's neck at their bonding ceremony and saw a hot blue star similarly in the process of birth.

  The depth of emotion behind the choice moved Cheyna. She had to blink back tears. Sniffing, she rubbed the pendant between thumb and forefinger and felt a peculiar roughness beneath her fingertips. Turning it over, she saw letters worked carefully into the matrix of the stone. She made out tiny stylized words: The House of Singing Suns.

  Tears welled up and trembled on her lashes. One spilled over to slide down her cheek.

  "You don't like it?" Drakthe sounded appalled. He hurried to reassure her. "We can change it to whatever you want."

  Cheyna wiped the tear away. "Change one thing, my lord, and you will find yourself sleeping with Scmp."

  A huge sigh of relief whistled from between his lips. He grunted when she settled across his chest.

  "Thank you." Cheyna leaned down and brushed a kiss of utmost sweetness across his mouth.

  "You're welcome." Drakthe teased her mouth in return. "How
many levels of Sai and Kai are there?" he asked, moving lower to nibble the underside of her jaw.

  Cheyna straddled his hips. She lifted her tunic off over her head and teased him by brushing the tips of her breasts across his chest. "Are you really sure you want to know?'

  He lifted a brow.

  She whispered the answer in his ear.

  A wicked smile of satisfaction spread over Drakthe's face. "Ah, bondwife, that should keep us busy for a good, long time."

  THE END

 

 

 


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