by Denali Day
“We need you. Your future is here, in Bedmeg.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Stay with me.”
Skies, she wanted to. She wanted it more than anything.
The voice in her mind, the terribly honest one, sneered. You can’t. And you’re cruel to allow this.
“Hollen—”
Before she could continue, he covered her mouth with his. This kiss was forceful. There was a fierceness to it, an urgency that stole the breath from her lungs along with the words she’d been about to speak. When he finally broke away, they were both panting. Joselyn brought a hand to her lips, dazedly pawing at their swollen warmth.
“Don’t speak of leaving me.” He grasped her face in his hands like he could commune to her very soul if only he held her close enough. “You’ve sworn to remain at my side for the year. And while you’re here, I want all of you. Yourself and your loyalty. I would have your body and heart if you would but accept mine.”
Joselyn, still trying to catch her breath, stared at him. Her lips moved, but words evaded.
Hollen’s eyes dropped to her mouth. “Regna, you taste like the heavens!”
He pulled her in for another kiss. This time, Joselyn stopped him. The restraint caused a physical ache in her body.
The hateful voice whispered its ugly warning, stealing away her peace. You don’t belong here. He will realize it soon enough, and then it will be worse than if you’d never met him.
Joselyn’s heart wilted. Was she simply reserving herself for a more exquisite pain?
This can’t last. I’m a fool.
She tried to swallow but her mouth had gone dry. A single tear slipped over her cheek and Joselyn swiped at it. She started to turn on her knees, determined to hide her face. Hollen caught her in his arms.
“Let me go,” she demanded.
Distress creased the corners of his eyes. “Joselyn, why are you crying?”
Because she knew the truth. She’d never be a match for him. The only worthy thing about her was her willingness to serve her people, the very ones she’d have to abandon to be with him. He thought he could love her? He had no idea what a bitter, spiteful person she was. He couldn’t imagine the amount of hate that filled her heart. And so much of it was for her parents, even as Hollen’s own heart overflowed with adoration for his.
“You’ll regret this,” she said, swallowing down a sob, “you’ll wish you’d claimed someone else.”
He stroked her hair. “No, Joselyn. I knew I made the right choice that day. Even though you were a stranger, I was still certain. And now? I could never be surer. I think all the time about what might have happened if I hadn’t claimed you. About where you’d be.”
Joselyn choked on a breath. For a moment, all misery fled her body, replaced by hostile wariness. “What do you mean?”
Hollen petted at her hair. His lips thinned and sorrow filled his eyes. “The timing. It can’t all be coincidence. If I hadn’t claimed you that day, you’d be with him. I could never let that happen. Couldn’t imagine your suffering.”
She stared at him, knowing what that look meant.
Did he think claiming her made him her savior? Indignation stirred in her gut and rose into her throat. She wasn’t a victim, some helpless casualty in the games of lords. She’d been in that procession by choice, ready to give her freedom, everything, for those who depended on her. Her hands balled into fists against his chest. “Who do you think you are?”
Hollen blinked. “What?”
“Do you think I would have crumbled? Broken at the earliest opportunity?”
“No. I—”
She cut him off. “I didn’t ask for you to save me.” Not, of all things, from her duty, the one thing that set her apart.
“Joselyn—”
She pulled out of his arms. “Don’t pity me, barbarian. I have as much pride as you.”
She might not be worthy of Hollen, but she’d be damned if, in his benevolence, he stole from her the one thing that gave her dignity. Her willingness to do what she must.
“I don’t pity you,” he blurted, shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“No?” She arched a brow.
Hollen swallowed. “I only meant…I can’t bear the thought of you with another man.”
She stared him down and saw the lie lingering in his dark eyes. Her stomach hardened. “I’m getting cold.”
He took her chilled hands in his. Even as she worked to keep her emotions in check, Joselyn bristled at the thrill of want that ran through her. She couldn’t think like this. Couldn't be like this. Couldn’t let herself want him. Every minute she remained in Bedmeg her house drew closer to ultimate disaster.
She’d never expected to love the man she married and had never expected him to love her. Now her icy heart was melting for a savage who professed to be falling for her. Would there be anything left of her when the heat of his desire burned out? If she stayed in Bedmeg, it would burn out. Because Hollen was a good man, the kind who sacrificed for his people. If she abandoned her duty now, she wouldn’t be. She’d be weak like her mother, self-serving like her father, the wanting half of Hollen’s whole. And he’d have every right to disdain her.
Never.
“Take me back,” she said.
His eyes darted between each of hers. He seemed to want to say something. In the end he helped her up and took her back to Bedmeg. Not to Morhagen. Not to her duty.
As she lay in the darkened bok, Joselyn blinked back another wave of tears.
She was going to have to make him.
27
Judgment Day
“I’m going to kill him!” Hollen roared, scanning the common area for signs of Sigvard’s auburn hair. He gazed instead over his bride’s red mane, and Hollen took several bounding strides in her direction. She and the women sitting with her at the breakfast fire regarded him with curious gazes.
“Have you seen Sigvard?” he asked, reducing his volume but none of his irritation.
Joselyn stood. “He ran past here a few moments ago, why?”
“Which way did he go?” he demanded.
“What’s happened?”
“That podagi dumped fig cap in the vat where my coat was soaking!”
All around, the women burst into laughter. Thanks to Sigvard, their Salig would now be flying in a coat whose underside was dyed bright purple, a color that was not likely to fade any time soon.
Joselyn bit down on her lower lip with amusement lighting her eyes. “Are you certain? That it was him, I mean.”
“That boy needs to grow up! If he doesn’t break that damned gegatu soon I’m going to break him over my knee!”
“Perhaps one of the children was wandering about and dropped the mushroom in by mistake?”
Hollen blinked at her. “Are you protecting him?”
The women laughed even harder. Joselyn put a hand on her hip. “If you were coming for me in a similar state of fury, I hope he’d return the favor.”
Hollen gaped at her. “Woman, tell me where he is!”
Joselyn nodded. A corner of her mouth pulled upward. “Of course. As soon as your temper has cooled.”
Hollen was taken aback. The women broke into yet another bout of laughter, this the loudest by far. Joselyn stood tall, her calm gaze unflinching. Despite himself, Hollen also broke into a smile. His anger forgotten, he lunged forward to catch his bride about the wrist.
He turned toward the bok tunnels, just catching his hamma’s widened eyes as he tugged her along. The laughter of the onlookers turned to knowing giggles.
“Where are we going?” Joselyn asked, flustered.
“To have a private word.” Hollen could hear her shuffling footfalls as she hurried to keep up. Pleasure suffused him. If his bride was teasing him, perhaps she’d forgiven him for the night before. What a disaster that had been. One moment he’d been kissing her, reveling in the intimacy and rising lust of the moment. The next, she was crying and demanding to be taken back. Women
were perilous creatures.
He’d take her back to their bok now, and he’d kiss her senseless. He’d thought of little else all morning, and certainly he’d thought of nothing else as she’d slept, huddled in his arms, her face tucked against his bare chest. Regna! She was going to be the death of him, and what a sweet, agonizing death it would be.
“Mu Salig! Mu Salig! Mu Salig!” a woman cried.
Hollen stopped dead in his tracks, and Joselyn bumped into him from behind. His entire body stiffened at the sound of that familiar shrieking. Where was its twin?
“Stop your bleating, you old goat!” came another shrill voice.
There it is.
Hollen cursed under his breath. He rolled his eyes as he turned back, still clutching Joselyn’s hand. Perhaps if the two shrews saw that he was busy, they might stow their bickering long enough to forget the cause. One look at their wrinkled faces, each contorted with indignant fury, cured any such notion. Sighing, he released his bride’s hand.
“What is it this time, Leah?” he asked, willing patience into his voice.
The two women were panting, having just raced through the common area to reach him. It was a miracle neither had fallen and broken a hip, so intent was each upon hindering the other. Leah, barely ahead, spoke first.
“She took it! She swiped it right from under my nose!” Leah shoved a damp strand of pepper-gray hair from her brow. Behind her, Briel skidded to a halt and bumped into Leah from behind. Briel’s voice rose to a pitch high enough to crack stone.
“It’s not true! She’s so full of herself! Can’t imagine I might have anything better to do than sit around looking for ways to annoy her!”
“You rarely do,” Hollen muttered, quiet enough that only Joselyn would hear. It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d shouted. No one could have noticed over the screeching that ensued. The two women hurled their grievances at one another. They drew every eye in the common area.
Hollen stole a glance at Joselyn. She looked astonished. He chuckled. Growing up in a royal court, his bride had probably never witnessed such antics from elderly women. For once, Hollen envied her. His thoughts were interrupted when he saw Leah’s hand rise to strike her fellow Dokiri hamma. Hollen darted forward. He caught the errant arm before any real damage was done.
“Enough!” Hollen barked at the two of them. His booming voice just cut between their insults. The two women looked at him, their tantrum paused.
“It’s too early in the morning for this nonsense.” Hollen released the woman’s hand. “Leah, what is the matter?”
“Why must she always speak first?” Briel whined.
Hollen ignored the outburst and turned his gaze upon the marginally more mature woman. “Well?”
“Mu Salig,” Leah began in a tone gone woeful. “You know how my back pains me so. That’s just one of the many burdens I must bear in my old age. It’s been particularly bad these past days, and when I woke up this morning it ached so badly I could hardly get out of bed! My Loren had to all but carry me from our bok!”
“Thank Helig you’ve improved in so short a time,” Hollen deadpanned. The old woman better have a compelling excuse for whatever had moved her to try slapping her rival. Regna! Must he govern the squabbles of women old enough to have pupped his father?
“Yes . . .well.” Leah cleared her throat, and the pitiful inflection cleared from her voice. “I went to the springs, hoping the heat would ease my tension. And while I was soaking, this moxy stole my gneri blade!”
Hollen’s brows shot up. That was a new level of pettiness, even for Briel. All around, disapproving murmurs swept through the cave. Hollen turned to Briel who was squirming, desperate to speak. That she actually waited was suspicious in and of itself.
“Briel?” Hollen asked.
Briel’s chin jutted forward. “It’s not true, mu Salig! I’ve been minding my business all morning. This banshee grabbed me by the hair while I was eating and started screeching accusations.”
“Because you’re guilty! I’ve put my blade in the same place while I bathed for forty years! It didn’t just get up and walk away! I knew the moment it was missing what must have happened. And sure enough, the hem of your dress is soaked.” Leah pointed at the other woman’s dampened dress.
Briel planted her withered hands on her hips. “It’s wet because I carried in wood this morning, you mad biddy!”
Leah scowled. “If you weren’t so jealous, you wouldn’t feel the need to antagonize me, you lumpish hag!”
Briel gasped. At once, they were back to screaming over one another. Beside him, Joselyn did something he rarely saw her do. She fidgeted. Her fingers tugged at the end of her red braid.
“Quiet!” He had to yell to be heard over the women’s howling. Reluctantly, they obeyed.
“I assume the two of you can’t be bothered to come to terms on your own?”
They shot each other dirty looks and opened their mouths, each charging for the first word. Hollen raised a hand.
Was he really about to call an idaglo, a summit, over something so silly? Apparently.
“I thought not. Fine then.” At least Joselyn’s first experience helping him stand as judge would be over an insignificant matter. “Briel.”
The accused woman inclined her head, still seething.
“Did anyone see you carry wood in this morning?”
“Yes,” she hurried to say. “Reisha did.”
Hollen scanned the crowd of onlookers for the much younger woman. His eyes fell upon her, arms crossed over her chest and looking terribly uncomfortable.
“Well, Reisha?” he asked.
The dark woman’s eyes flitted between Hollen and Briel for a moment. Hollen pinned her with a heavy stare. The woman answered hesitantly. “I saw her carrying wood in, mu Salig. But”—she paused, licking her lips—“It was several hours ago.”
Hollen wasn’t the only one to steal a glance back at Briel’s woolen dress, the hem of which seemed far wetter than it should have been after a jaunt through the snow in the dark hours of the morning. Briel’s face reddened, and she opened her mouth to speak. Hollen cut in.
“Mu hamma and I will return with our ruling. In the meantime, I don’t expect to hear the two of you squawking at one another from our bok. Is that understood?”
“Va, mu Salig.” They nodded in unison.
Hollen took Joselyn by the hand and led her back to their bok. His purpose was far less enticing than it had been a few moments ago. He lit a torch, then bid her sit upon their bed. She folded her hands in her lap.
“What was that all about?” she asked. Her wide eyes flicked toward the doorway.
He sighed. “Leah and Briel squabble constantly. They always have. Usually they keep their disagreements to themselves and some of the other gossipier women. But when they get angry enough to start laying hands on one another, I’m often asked to stand judgment.”
“They sound like children,” his bride said, her expression incredulous.
“Yes, that’s apt.” Hollen scratched at the back of his neck. “And like their mother and father, we now have to settle their dispute.”
Joselyn raised a brow. “Why us? Why me?”
Hollen quirked a brow. “You are Saliga. In fact, you may be asked to stand judgment even without me at such times.”
“That hardly seems appropriate.” She scowled.
Hollen cocked his head. “Why not?”
“Because I’m a woman.”
He regarded her. “All the more reason you should govern women’s affairs, don’t you think?”
Joselyn was silent. Her brow wrinkled as though she were thinking very hard on something.
Hollen shot her a half-smile. “But even so, the matter was brought to me first, and you don’t yet know the reputations of all your clansmen. It’s good that we can discuss this together and come to a decision as one. It will strengthen our bond and please the people.”
Joselyn blinked, but said nothing. Had she ever been i
n a position where her judgment was required by her people? His bride was a proud woman. This sort of thing might bring her pleasure someday, given enough practice.
“Will you help me decide this matter, mu hamma?”
“What is your opinion?” she asked.
Hollen snorted. “Briel took the blade.”
Joselyn frowned. “Are you so certain?”
“Briel lives to antagonize Leah. Her schemes would make a child shake his head. Though, stealing a gneri blade is especially bold. I can only imagine how Leah must have been tormenting Briel.”
“Leah taunts her?”
Hollen grimaced. “Unfortunately. Briel is awkward and Leah is quick to remind her.”
Joselyn sat quiet a moment. “I imagine Leah will demand her blade back.”
“Yes, and Briel will deny she took it. Glanshi.”
The two fell silent. Hollen wracked his brain for a solution. The gneri blades were a sacred symbol of one’s union. If Briel was forced to produce the blade, Leah would be certain others showed her no mercy. Briel would be scorned for a long while to come. A clan-wide snub of an old woman didn’t sit well with Hollen.
“What if you confiscated Briel’s blade until Leah’s is found? Then you might motivate Briel to ‘assist’ her rival without condemning her?”
Hollen turned the suggestion over in his mind. It could work. It could work well. Given enough time, Briel could return the blade discreetly, which would both solve the problem and allow her to save face. Briel would be furious at having her blade taken. She might even complain to her husband, but both Briel and Leah’s husbands were weary of their wives’ constant arguing. Hollen didn’t anticipate any resistance on that account.
“Mmm.” He gave a slow nod, and a smile stretched across his face. “I believe I may have claimed a wise woman.”
Joselyn returned the smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her posture remained fixed and tight.
“What is it?” he asked.
She looked away. Hollen sat on the bed beside her and ducked his head low. Perhaps she was nervous to involve herself in his people’s affairs? She didn’t yet feel at home here. But that would change. It was moments like this that were going to make the difference. Whether she knew it or not, she did belong in Bedmeg. She belonged at his side.
