by Chris Lange
“Why did he do that? If nobody works the land, everybody starves.”
“It’s a very good point. Unfortunately, the king doesn’t view the equation in the same light. I’m sure he plans on invading Moonstill as soon as he can. Plenty of goods to be plundered over there.”
She pondered his assessment of the situation. Although the king’s tactics didn’t make much sense to her, she wasn’t in his place. Her craft being her life, she healed wounds and helped those in need. Besides, she'd never been greedy for power and domination.
“What of the people? Isn’t anyone giving them assistance?”
“The resistance hides and feeds them. They’ve been able to set up refugee camps in Palance and Moonstill, as well as provide those in need with a new life. Although people have been torn from their homes, at least they have a roof over their heads and their children eat.”
“Is this why you trust the leader of the resistance?”
“It’s one of the reasons, but I also happen to think that there’s more to him than meets the eye. And if you must know everything, most of the tribes have offered shelter to refugees.”
“Really? On whose orders?”
His sharp gaze fell on her. All of a sudden, she had the impression the overhanging rock pressed down on her, prompting her to cower and stop asking stupid questions. She repressed the urge as she ingested her meat, and stared at the straight set of his lips.
“Whose do you think, Ariana?”
“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. You told me you didn’t want to choose sides in this war, but it seems to me that if you help refugees from Palance and Moonstill, well, you have already involved the clans.”
“Involving isn’t fighting. I said I wouldn’t send my men to be slaughtered in battle, and I won’t. We live in the Four Kingdoms, yet no king rules us. The warrior clans will fight every time the tribes are under attack, but we won’t go looking for retribution or revenge. Can’t you see the difference?”
“Sure. You picked a side.”
Although she had muttered, he must have caught her ironic remark, because he glowered at her.
“Since when are you into strategies of war?”
“Since you left me alone last night.”
Where did that come from? Embarrassment flaring up her brow, she dropped her head to stare at the flowing river. Water churned and swirled, carrying away leaves and chunks of wood. A whirlpool sucked clumps of grass into its depths while the silence between them stretched.
Unable to face him, she put the last strip of meat in her mouth before chewing with care. Could she spend the rest of the day avoiding his disturbing gaze? Beside her, his heavy coat brushed against her cloak.
“There’s no war between us but the one you make.”
What did that mean? Although positive she’d already figured out the answer, dwelling on his point of view didn’t appeal to her. She moved aside to grab the reins and let him know they’d better resume their journey. He took the hint and jumped on his horse without a word.
The gray, cloudy afternoon wore on as they followed the narrow path between the cliff and the river. When they finally arrived at the outer edge of the rock wall, a lush, green valley lay in front of them.
She gasped. She would have liked to enjoy the beautiful scenery or to ride freely in that vast, beautiful expanse, but her wish was denied. Astride their horses, a band of about fifty armed men barred the way.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Stay by my side.”
Cameron’s order sent a spear of fear through her heart. His icy face riveted to the men, he didn’t try to reach for his sword. He just watched them while they seemed to wait. One of them carried a banner that men of war probably recognised.
Legs twitchy, she shifted her weight back and forth on the saddle while she considered the unfavourable odds. Fighting fifty men was out of the question. Whatever they wanted, they’d get it.
Moving from the centre of the enemy’s line, a man stood out. He spurred his horse forward, the slow pace he adopted suggesting the armed group might not spring on them just yet. When he slowly advanced toward them, she couldn't help but notice the charisma coming off him in ripples, the air of confidence so similar to the Lord of the Clans’. A delicious tingle ran up her spine.
As he closed the distance between them, she also saw the brilliant green eyes, the gorgeous face that sent her pulse tumbling. Dear Creators, but the man must break hearts everywhere he went. He halted his mount in front of her lord’s horse before giving him a brief but courteous nod.
“Lord Cameron?”
“Yes.”
To her surprise, he also nodded at the newcomer. In the few days they had been together, she’d never seen him defer to anyone. He did now, and his small gesture startled her. Maybe she was getting a little too used to living around this fierce leader.
At the same time, she wished the handsome stranger would acknowledge her presence, or just glance at her. His eyes remained fixed on Cameron.
“May I have a word with you?”
“By all means.”
“Thank you.”
Without looking back, the man indicated the landscape surrounding them and the peaceful valley below.
“We’ve set up camp over there for the night. The perimeter is guarded, so we shouldn’t be interrupted. Your lady will be able to get some rest.”
His lady? Really? Either people were quick to assume he’d taken her as his mate, or the pleasure she had received from the pounding of his cock was still painted all over her face. In any case, the term “your lady” infused her with such warmth that she had to squeeze the pommel to hide her emotion.
The camp proved to be quite close. From the little information she’d picked up, Frahern shouldn’t be farther than a few leagues now, probably half a day’s ride. She’d see her aunt tomorrow if they spent the night in the area, providing the troupe didn’t take them prisoners.
She wondered who those people were all the way to the camp, and why Cameron had agreed to follow them so readily. As much as she wanted to ask questions about the band of men, the galloping didn’t make for easy conversation, so she bid her time until they dismounted.
Coloured tents sprouted across the meadow, more than enough to accommodate the group of soldiers. With a swift sway of his hand, the beautiful man lifted the flap of the biggest tent.
“Please, come inside. I’ll be with you shortly.”
The place appeared almost as large as a room, but she barely noticed the furniture as she faced Cameron.
“Why are we here? Are they soldiers?”
“You know who he is. Why else would you stare at him as if your eyes were about to pop out of their sockets?”
She closed her mouth. How in ether’s spirits could he have noticed her private daydream? He’d kept his attention fixed on the armed group and hadn’t glanced at her once while the stranger approached them. At a loss for words, she watched the corners of his mouth tilt upwards.
“So is reality in accordance with the tales you heard about him?”
Dear Gods, she'd just met the famous leader of the resistance. The mighty warrior all girls in the Four Kingdoms fantasized about. Mouth dry, she worked her brains to find an appropriate answer.
“I didn’t know it was him.”
“You do now. Well?”
Unwilling to admit that the man’s beauty made her weak at the knees, she pretended to look around.
“This is a nice place, isn’t it?”
His half-grin disappeared. Ruffled by the coldness sneaking up his features, she moved toward a plain wooden desk with a chair on one side. Whatever he thought, she wouldn’t allow him to make fun of her. She'd been teased enough. Still, she breathed more evenly when the leader of the resistance entered the tent and broke the awkward silence lingering between them.
Gesturing toward the benches along the desk, he went to sit down on one side while they settled across from him.
“Lor
d Cameron, I don’t mean any disrespect, but what I have to discuss is for your ears only.”
What? He was chucking her out of the tent? She should have been ticked off, but he looked at her now, and the intensity of his green eyes rooted her to the bench. So much that her heart stuttered. Beside her, the Lord of the Clans planted his elbows on the flimsy desk.
“Ariana stays.”
“As you wish.”
Men were strange creatures. One second, they wanted something, and the next they acted as if being denied their wish was the most natural thing in the world. It suited her fine right now. Two fierce leaders sat across from each other, and she longed to listen to this particular conversation.
“How did you find me?”
Although Cameron’s tone might have induced alarm in many men, the stranger didn’t appear moved in the least. He checked the pocket of his cloak. When he brought his hand up and opened it, a small, bright blue pulsating sphere glowed in his palm.
“This led me to you. It was given to me by a wizard friend of mine. He said the sphere would guide me to the great power I was looking for. I relied on it the whole way from Palance, and here we are.”
“You seek great power, but the war is over.”
“I’d say we’ve reached a standstill. I believe the armies of Agravar and Borgom are regrouping as we speak, but, thanks to you, I’ve been able to cut off most of their supplies. I’m in your debt, Lord Cameron.”
The purple boudoir in the brothel flashed in her mind, the big purse handed over by a tall man. Neutral as he claimed to be, the Lord of the Clans had been feeding the resistance information.
As head of the tribes, his position allowed him freedom of movement. He had picked sides, probably since the beginning of the war, and he was getting paid for his contribution. Furiously happy to realise she’d been right, she raised her eyes toward him, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“You don’t owe me anything. I’ve also had my doubts regarding the alleged end of the war, but if things turn ugly again, I will not send my men to fight alongside Palance and Moonstill.”
“I know. I understand your position on the matter, and I’m not here to change your mind. Well...not today.”
As the stranger’s tone bordered on playfulness, she thought he was going to wink. Instead, he stood up to walk to a brown chest. He retrieved a long, rolled piece of writing material before sitting back down.
“I am in need of your help again, Lord Cameron.”
“I’m listening.”
The leader of the resistance rubbed the dark stubble on his cheek with one hand. The bout of merriment he'd displayed for an instant vanished from his face as he studied his clandestine ally.
“We’ve recently uncovered a very troubling prophecy. It tells of a cataclysmic menace over the Four Kingdoms. Apparently, this is the worst threat we’ve ever had to face, and our existence is in the balance.”
“What kind of threat?”
“I’m not sure. My wizard calls it the Darkening.”
The end of her life, the end of her world. Panic grips her guts. Long past is the time for tears, for hope. She has failed. She hasn’t been strong enough to vanquish the darkness, and the light has gone out.
Terror struck her as the vivid images from her nightmare rushed up. Heart pounding, pins and needles assaulting her calves, she grabbed the pitcher of water sitting on the desk and filled a goblet.
The end of her life, the end of her world.
The cold liquid wetted her parched mouth, slid down her expectant throat like a refreshing breeze. What had Doireann said about prophecies? That they were set in stone? Attempting to control her erratic pulse, she set the goblet down before concentrating on the leader of the resistance.
“I would eliminate the threat myself, but my wizard is convinced only a great power can do it. Now I’m not one to put my whole faith in old scriptures, and I have no way to assure you this prophecy will come to pass but—”
“It will.”
Both men turned to her. Their incisive gazes fastened on her, she felt a little like shrinking. But she tilted her chin up.
“Your wizard is right. The Darkening is upon us.”
“How do you know?”
They spoke in unison. She might have found it funny if not for the horrible visions swinging her stomach upside down. Taking a deep breath, she shifted her eyes from one man to the other.
“I had a dream last night. I saw the darkness annihilating our world. I don’t know what it is or where it comes from, but it’s real.”
Cameron slowly took the blue sphere that his ally had placed on the desk and raised it for all to see.
“The great power you’ve been searching for isn’t me. It’s Ariana.”
She repressed a shiver when the leader of the resistance set his eyes on her and spoke to no one but her.
“Will you help us, lady Ariana?”
“I will.”
She didn’t pause to think. This drop-dead gorgeous warrior asked for her assistance, so why wouldn’t she offer it? Because the brilliant green eyes compelled her instead of letting her use her reason to make such an important decision? As she all but blurted out her consent, she read respect in the sparkling emerald gaze, as well as an unexpected emotion that resembled admiration.
“Thank you, my lady. You’re as brave as your Lord.”
The Mighty Gods be blinded on the spot if she didn’t feel a slight, hot tickle between her thighs. At the very instant, Cameron shifted against her. Pray the Creators he didn't possess the talent to read her mind.
She gazed at the hard line of his jaw, the straightness of his nose, the old scar slashing his cheek. The familiar yearn twisted her belly, and she knew without a doubt that the most dazzling men of the realm would never compare. Not with him.
As he placed the sphere back on the desk, someone called out from outside. Their new ally stood up.
“That’s my second in command. I need to see to this but, please, make yourselves comfortable.”
She watched him while he strode to the entrance of the tent and lifted the flap. Although not a giant like the Lord of the Clans, he moved quickly for such a tall man. His long cloak billowed behind him as he exited the place, and she wished he didn’t wear it. She wouldn’t have minded a glimpse of his butt. Did he have a narrow waist? Tight, dimpled buttocks like Cameron?
“Ariana.”
“Yes?”
Wrenched out of her personal reverie, she sighed and pivoted her head toward her lord who looked grim.
“You’re drooling.”
“I most certainly am not.”
“Close your mouth then.”
She blinked at the sudden harshness of his voice. If she didn’t know better, she’d say jealousy gripped him by the guts. He wasn’t making fun of her for once and the realisation sparked mischief in her.
“Sorry. But you know, he’s so...well, so...phew.”
Letting her appreciative sigh roll over her tongue for as long as she could hold it, she mustered her best awed expression. He narrowed his eyes and tightened his lips, irritation furrowing his brow.
“I trust this is the reason why you agreed to walk to your death without a second thought. Because he pleases your eyes.”
“Actually he pleases much more than my eyes, but I pray you, let’s not get into unnecessary details.”
Cameron tightened his fingers into fists. Although he kept his hands under the desk, she caught his sudden tension and had to bite the inside of her cheek to refrain from grinning. His scar paled.
“I see. Poor Kelton!”
How did he do that? She had the upper hand but, with a few words, he managed to turn the situation to his advantage and make her the harlot of the play. Refusing to let him win, she retaliated.
“There’s no need to involve him, so I’d ask you to leave my promised out of this conversation.”
“Why? He’ll be the only one to suffer. By the way, does he know you start squirming w
henever there’s a cock around?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The viciousness of the insult cut through her soul. A wild desire to lash out jolted her insides as she stared at him. He couldn’t have said that. The man who had made her vibrate with passion just two nights ago would never treat her with such contemptuous rudeness. Choking on the urge to claw at his scar, she shot him a revolted look.
“At least I’m not a rat.”
The pettiness darkening his eyes turned to disbelief while he shifted his body to confront her.
“What in ether’s spirits are you implying?”
“I saw you at the brothel. You accepted money from a man, and now I hear you’ve been blabbing around for a long time. For someone who’s supposed to be impartial, isn’t this called informing?”
“And instead of spying on me, you never stopped to wonder if there might be another reason.”
“Seems pretty clear to me.”
He grabbed the pitcher and poured water into a glass. When he didn’t drink, she got the impression he used the diversion to cool off.
“You’re a funny creature, Ariana. Eager to trust everybody and his brother, and so quick to condemn those who actually care for you.”
Did he care for her? She might be misreading him again, yet the idea sent her heart keeling as he observed her.
“I lent a fair sum of money to a clan leader last fall, after his tribe’s dwellings were destroyed by the armies of Borgom. His second in command met me at the brothel to pay me back, so I instructed him in how to proceed from then on. But whatever you think, I’m not and never will be, a rat.”
She felt like blushing, and hoped she didn’t. How could this perfect man be attracted to her when she'd been born with so many flaws? Stifling a swell of confused emotions, she looked him in the eye.
“And I’m not a harlot.”
A softer expression crossed his face. He took the glass this time and drank a few sips of water.
“I’m sorry. I might have been a bit harsh with you.”
A blatant understatement to say the least, yet she accepted his apology with a nod. Should she make excuses for calling him a rat? She wanted to, but he looked at her with a very different expression on his face.
