Jarmon stumbled slightly on his bad leg before righting himself. The crowd gasped. Genny slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. The last thing she wanted to do was to distract him. Sweat trickled into her eyes and she blinked to clear her vision. Every muscle in her body was pulled tight and she flinched with every blow that was struck.
The crowd faded into the background. All Genny could see was Leon and Jarmon. One man she despised, the other she loved, and only one of them would survive the afternoon. The heat became oppressive as the fight continued. The world took on a surreal feeling. Two men were fighting to the death over her. How could such a thing happen? And when would it end?
Her stomach churned. What if the unthinkable happened and Leon won? She curled her fingers inward, digging them into her palms as she forced that thought away. She’d rather die than be given in marriage to the Luther brothers.
The long minutes dragged on. Leon, sensing his opponent’s weakness, began to mercilessly hammer him with blow after blow. Jarmon blocked them all but seemed unable to return them. Leon laughed as he struck again. She could sense her brother’s growing triumph as he continued to beat at his younger opponent.
“I suppose I could spare you,” Leon gasped out as he lashed his sword out again. Jarmon’s blade deflected the blow, barely. “But I won’t.” Genny knew Leon could taste victory and was already gloating over his win. “Your family will have to bury you this time.”
Leon was panting heavily now. The heavy fighting had taken its toll on both men. Sweat poured down their bodies and their actions were slower now than they were when they’d first started. Genny prayed over and over, willing her strength into Jarmon. He wasn’t managing to get in any blows as he was strictly on the defensive. Her fingers were clenched so hard that they began to hurt. She ignored the pain, unable to take her eyes from the scene unfolding in front of her.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Jarmon’s sword flicked under Leon’s guard. Blood seeped down the front of Leon’s pants where Jarmon’s blade had struck him. Hope surged within her as Jarmon began to fight back.
• • •
Jarmon blinked the sweat from his eyes. He longed to swipe it away but didn’t dare. It had taken him quite a while to lull his opponent into a false sense of security. Leon had wasted precious strength pounding away on him, without actually hurting him. He was amazed the older man didn’t realize he was being toyed with. But then, Leon had always been overconfident and thought he knew his opponent. He saw only Jarmon’s handicaps. He had no idea of just how much he’d changed since the last time they’d met on the battlefield.
Sensing his opponent had expended most of his energy, Jarmon let loose his pent-up power and began to fight in earnest. He struck low first, opening a wound on Leon’s leg. The other man bellowed like a wounded boar and attacked, his movements slow and sloppy.
Jarmon struck again. This time, blood began to flow down Leon’s sword arm. Dancing out of the way in time to avoid Leon’s blade, he drove his sword forward and up, opening a wound on the older man’s chest. Keeping his feet moving and his body balanced, Jarmon fought with skill and determination.
He blocked out all else but his opponent in front of him. He trusted his brothers to keep the fight fair. Control was his biggest problem. The urge to just attack Leon was overwhelming. The casual way that he’d backhanded Genny was a chilling reminder of what her everyday life must have been like. Strategy was the key. Strategy and control. It had been difficult, but he’d allowed Leon to wear himself down and think he was winning. Now, it was time to finish this.
Drawing on all the hard hours of training it had taken to recover from his injuries, Jarmon found the strength to fight even harder. Letting out a roar, he raised his sword and struck hard and swift. The blade slipped beneath Leon’s guard, which was weakening with each blow. The deadly edge of the sword caught two of his fingers, severing them.
Leon howled, his sword dropping from his bloody hand. He fell to his knees staring in horror at his fingers where they rolled in the dirt in front of him. Jarmon held the tip of his sword to his neck, but he didn’t even seem to notice. “It is done,” he proclaimed.
The crowd cheered. Jarmon looked toward Harmid, Leon’s second. His face was pale, his lips curled up in a sneer, but he nodded.
Satisfied, Jarmon began to walk away. Genny’s eyes landed on him and she began to smile. He could see the tears in her eyes and couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms and comfort her.
In a split second, happiness turned to horror.
Acting purely on instinct, Jarmon whirled around and struck out, impaling Leon on his sword a second before the other man would have driven his weapon into Jarmon’s back.
His eyes widened, his lips moved. “This can’t be happening,” Leon moaned.
The only thing holding Leon upright was the strength of Jarmon’s sword arm. He jerked the blade upward ever so slightly. Leon gasped, blood bubbling from his lips. “Genny is free. You shall never hurt her again.” Yanking back his blade, he watched Leon sway before pitching facedown in the dirt.
A woman screamed and several men shouted. Jarmon clutched his sword, ready to face the new threat. He was just in time to see Garrik’s blade sever Harmid’s hand from his arm. The hand dropped to the ground, a dagger still clutched in its grasp. Harmid screamed as he fell to his knees, clutching the end of his arm.
All eyes turned to the two remaining Craddock brothers. The youngest raised his hands and stepped forward. “Peace.” He glanced over at Sednar, who nodded. “Challenge has been fairly met. At least by the Bakra family.” Radnor paused and then continued. “However, it has not been met fairly by the Craddock family. We ask if you are satisfied by what has occurred or do you require more?”
Jarmon knew that this was the brother who had helped Genny escape. He stared at the man, who was only a year or so younger than himself. There was a quiet strength about him and Jarmon knew that he hadn’t had an easy life. It didn’t excuse what had been done to Genny, but Radnor and his brother Sednar would have their hands full in the near future with Leon dead. If Harmid died, and he probably would, as neither brother seemed to be in a hurry to offer him aid, then Sednar was the new Lord of Craddock Keep.
He strode toward the two men wanting this settled once and for all. Both of them tensed but made no move to draw their weapons. Good. They weren’t as hotheaded or stupid as their brothers. Garrik moved up on his right side, coming to stand beside him so they could confront the two remaining brothers together. That was how it should be.
Jarmon stopped a few feet away from them and addressed Sednar. “As the eldest remaining brother, you are now the Lord of Craddock Keep.”
Sednar glanced at the still body of Leon and then at his brother Harmid, who was still moaning. “I am not yet, but it seems likely.” There was no sorrow in his eyes, only weariness.
“We will have Genny as ours.” Garrik laid their claim, stating it in clear, unmistakable terms.
Sednar shot his brother a quick look and then nodded. “I believe she will be in good hands. We consider this matter done and want no more trouble with the Bakra family.”
“What about the Luther brothers?” Jarmon didn’t want them showing up any time in the future pressing a prior claim.
“In spite of what Leon asserted, nothing has been officially decided or agreed upon.” Sednar’s gaze was steady. “I will deal with the Luther brothers.”
“Jarmon?” Zaren and Bador had moved up to flank them. “Do you consider this finished?” Zaren ignored everyone else but Jarmon.
Jarmon faced his eldest brother. “If Genny is ours, then it is done. I am satisfied.”
Nodding, Zaren faced Sednar. “The Bakra family considers this matter finished.”
Relief flashed across the younger man’s face before disappearing behind an impassive mask. “We will take our dead and wounded home.” Turning away, he called for the men-at-arms. They quickly bound Harmid’s wound
and threw him over the back of one of the waiting horses.
Radnor hadn’t moved, his eyes still locked on Jarmon. “You will be good to her. Take care of her.”
They were statements, not questions, but underneath, Jarmon heard the plea for reassurance. “Genny’s happiness and well-being is my first concern. Always.”
Radnor nodded abruptly and whirled away to join what remained of his family. He shot a longing gaze over his shoulder, his eyes connecting with Genny for the briefest of moments before he looked away again. Jarmon watched the connection between brother and sister. Perhaps, in time, that was a breach that could be mended.
When all the men were mounted, they turned their horses toward home, urging them forward. The hooves pounded on the packed dirt as they picked up speed. It would be a long, miserable trek home, dragging a dead man with them. Probably two by the time they reached Craddock Keep again. Jarmon didn’t envy them the trip.
He turned to face Genny. Jane stood just behind her, but she seemed so alone as she watched what remained of her family ride out of the courtyard. His arms ached to hold her, to comfort her. What would she think of him now that he’d killed one of her brothers? Would she still even want to look at him? Or would she always just see the blood on his hands?
Jarmon knew that was the main reason he’d wanted to be the one to accept Leon’s challenge. Yes, he’d wanted a chance at revenge for what the other man had done to him. He was only human, after all. But, deep down, he believed that Garrik had a better chance at being accepted by Genny as a husband.
As badly as he wanted her for himself, he was willing to do whatever it took to keep her with them, even if that meant he would only have her for himself once a week. And even that wasn’t a sure thing, even if she accepted Garrik. Not now. Not after what had just occurred on this bloody field. She might never open her arms to him again, and he’d cut off what remained of his left hand before he’d force her to accept him.
The crowd was quiet and many of them had retreated a slight ways to give them some semblance of privacy. Both Zaren and Bador squeezed his shoulder, murmuring how proud they were of him. Then they too were gone, taking Jane from Genny’s side and withdrawing a fair distance away.
Garrik walked toward Genny, determination on his face. Jarmon watched as his brother swept her into his arms and buried his face in the curve of her shoulder. Her arms came around him, holding him tight. He could see her whispering in his ear but couldn’t hear what was being said as Garrik answered her back.
His hand throbbed and he glanced down, wondering if he’d been injured. His sword was still clutched tight in his hand. So tight, in fact, his knuckles were white. Cursing roundly, he shoved the blade into the dirt to clean the worst of the blood from it before sheathing it.
Garrik and Genny were still talking earnestly. He was happy for his brother. He only hoped that one day she would open her arms to him once again. His eyes burned and he blinked hard. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he squared his shoulders and turned his back on the tender scene behind him.
He’d done what he’d set out to do and he had no regrets. He’d told Genny that she would be free, no matter what the cost, and he had kept his vow.
Putting one foot in front of the other, he began to slowly walk away.
• • •
Genny hugged Garrik tight, loving him more in this moment than she ever had. He was such an amazing man, so generous and giving. “You understand?”
His smile was tender as he leaned down and grazed his lips against hers. “I’ve always known.” He stroked his thumb over her cheek, wiping away a tear that seeped from the corner of her eye. “Don’t cry, Genny. You are both wounded souls that call to each other. You understand one another better than any other can. But more than that, I believe you can heal each other, become stronger. How can I not want that for the both of you?”
“You are the best of men, Garrik.” Emotion overflowed her heart and she went up on her toes to plant a hard kiss on his lips. He caught her head with his hand, holding her to him as he thrust his tongue into her mouth for a leisurely kiss.
They were both slightly breathless when he pulled back. “I’m not that good,” he countered. “Jarmon once promised me more than the normal one night a week with you. If you have no objection, I plan to take advantage of that.”
“You are always welcome, Garrik. That is, if Jarmon will have me.” She pushed away from Garrik and looked for Jarmon. He was walking away from them. From her.
“Go.” Garrik gave her a small push. “He probably thinks you do not want him now after what he has done.”
“Not want him?” She could hear the incredulous tone in her words.
“Genny,” Garrik explained softly. “He just killed one of your brothers. Harmid may die as well from the wound I gave him, but that is not a given yet.”
“He laid his life on the line for me. How could he think I would condemn him for that?”
She didn’t wait for Garrik’s reply, but began to follow Jarmon. He was moving farther away from her with every step and she began to hurry. Within seconds she was running. She called out his name. He hesitated but didn’t stop. “Jarmon!” she yelled again. This time he stopped, but he still didn’t turn around.
Genny continued until she was in front of him. His face was inscrutable, but his eyes were bleak and filled with such pain and sorrow that she swayed. He quickly steadied her, but just as quickly dropped his hand back to his side and wiped it against the leg of his pants. It was still stained with blood.
She swallowed hard. This man would have died for her. It was time for him to know the truth. “You said you wanted the answer to your question when the challenge was over.”
Jarmon flinched slightly before he recovered himself. “The answer is obvious. I wish you happiness.” He tried to move around her, but she shifted her body, keeping it in front of him. Short of him physically lifting her out of the way, she wasn’t letting him get around her.
“You still haven’t asked,” she prompted.
“I don’t need to ask,” he gritted out from between clenched teeth.
Genny crossed her arms over her chest. “That sure of yourself, are you?”
He closed his hands over her shoulders and tugged her up until their noses were almost touching. There was pain and the fury in his eyes, but she wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. “Don’t toy with me, Genny. Not about this.”
Cupping his familiar, scarred cheek in her hand, she shook her head. “I would never tease you about something this important, Jarmon.” The words that she’d thought would be so hard to say flowed effortlessly from her. “I love you, Jarmon Bakra. And if you would have me as wife, I will openly and gladly have you as my husband.” He stared at her for so long she began to get nervous. “You’re supposed to answer me.”
He gave a great cry and dropped to his knees in front of her. “You are the heart that beats in this chest and in this home, and if you would take me for husband I will give you my love, loyalty and devotion for as long as I live. With me, you gain the love, loyalty and devotion of my brother as well, who will be lover to you, and would also be your husband should I die before you. In return, I ask for your love, loyalty and devotion and any children that the gods see fit to gift us with.”
She’d never thought that a man would want her enough, love her enough to pledge himself to her in this manner. She slid to the ground, wrapped her arms around his shaking shoulders and held him with all her strength. Tears flowed unchecked down her face as he tightened his arms around her. He jerked back to look at her. She could still see the uncertainty as well as the tears in his eyes. She nodded and found herself engulfed in his embrace again.
“I didn’t think you could truly love a man as scarred as me. A man who had slain one of your brothers.” His whisper was low but clear.
She ran her hands over his head and back, as much to soothe herself as him. “I think you are a very handsome man. I do not see your scars.
” It was true, she realized. His scars were a part of him, as her scars were of her. To her, they were just part of what made him Jarmon. “You did not slay my brother. You protected me. How could I not love you for that?” She continued on, trying to make him understand. “You are my family now. You and Garrik and your brothers and Jane.”
“Genny,” his voice broke as he continued to hold her, rocking her in his arms.
They sat there for so long that her leg began to cramp. Finally, she had to shift and pull back. Groaning, she rubbed her leg. “I’m going to be stiff.”
Jarmon laughed and quickly ran his hand over his face to wipe away any remains of his tears. He got to his feet, grasped her hands and tugged her up. When she wobbled, he scooped her into his arms. “You will truly marry me, Genny?”
“Truly.”
“And you will accept Garrik?” He hesitated before hurrying on. “I might have promised him more than one night. That was back before I thought I had a chance of ever marrying you. But I meant it. I want our marriage to be like Zaren’s and Bador’s is with Jane. I don’t want Garrik to feel left out.” He laughed ruefully. “At the time I promised him, I thought I would be the one left out.”
Genny tugged on a lock of his hair. “No one is being left out and Garrik and I have already discussed that promise you made him.”
“Already in trouble, brother?” Garrik stood not far from them, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“I fear I will always be in trouble,” he replied. “But I meant my promise then and I mean it now. I will only marry if Genny will accept you as easily as she accepts me. I will not have you feel less than welcome at any time.”
“I accept you both,” she assured the both of them. She wiggled in his grasp until Jarmon put her down. Standing between the two of them, she struggled to try and explain. “I think I’ve been waiting for you both since the moment I finished the tapestry. I wove my own dreams around it, even if I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing at the time. Thoughts of you gave me the courage to save myself from the fate that awaited me. It brought me to you and I found even more than I’d ever dreamed. I found love.” She placed a hand on the center of both their chests, over their beating hearts. “I love you both. I accept you both.”
Woven Dreams Page 17
