"Is it so easy, then?" I turned toward the waterfall, to run my fingers through its smooth, silvery curtain before ducking my head in. "Think you'll have me diving overboard to save drowning crewmates after a single afternoon?"
"Maybe not quite so simple." He winked and joined me, leaning his head back in the falls to rinse his thick, red mane. "But we're stuck in port for the time being. We'll have plenty of time to teach you all you need to know."
"And..."
I brushed my fingers over his bicep. "Is that... all we'll do?"
"If you mean, will I be tying you up and having my way with you again while we're here, the answer is of course." Bannon flashed me a leer. "Are you so eager to get back to it?"
"Always," I said with a smile. "But Sir, I meant will we discuss what has been happening to me? Will you listen to me know when I tell you something is not right aboard that ship?"
His face turned serious, and he dropped his hands to his side. Confusion and indecision clashed in his expression. Even after what he'd seen today, he must still doubt the strange episodes plaguing me.
A shadow of grief darkened my sky. I sidestepped away from him, bowing my head, and clasping my hands to my chest. "I see."
Bannon reached out, taking hold of my forearm and drawing me back to face him.
"Hey, now, Sadi. Don't lose faith in me so easily. I don't know what is haunting you, or how it's come to do so, but we will find out."
He ran his fingers through my short, wet hair. "You seem to think because I don't understand, I don't aim to help you. I have never said I would not help you."
"How can you, if you think it's only madness?" I bristled. "If you think my visions only so many figments of the imagination? Think me crazy!"
"I do not think you are crazy."
He cupped my chin in his hands and looked me straight in the eyes. The intensity in his, like burning autumn fires, silenced my questions and reminded me again he had claimed me. Taken ownership of me, and all my worries too.
"You are sharp and reflective, Sadira. Like a strong, well-honed blade. I have no doubt about the soundness of your mind."
He let the words hang between us for a beat, gazing at me with solemn earnest. Then he softened, though, turning sad, and brushed his thumbs over my cheeks.
"But you have also endured a true nightmare. Your night in the dungeons. The golem in the sands."
He looked pained as he added, "Me. Me under the influence of your truest enemy. I know how it's affected you, Sadira. I know why we slept so many nights together without indulging in our desires, as we did so freely before. I know why you panicked when I put my hand to your throat. I have never wished to harm you, and yet Alaric Khan turned me into a source of fear."
"Bannon, I—"
"Quiet." He put a finger to my lips. "I know the aftermath of horror. I endured night terrors for weeks after my imprisonment under the giants. I saw the loss of my companions. I felt the beatings, over and over, and the scars they inflicted on me. And I hear you now, in your sleep, facing down demons in your dreams, as I did. Ailsa could be dead wrong about your fears. At the same time, though, you need to acknowledge you have yet much healing to do, before you can leave Alaric's madness behind for good."
He released me, and I bowed my head, wrapping my arms around my belly. "I told you I won't have you assume me damaged. My nature, my... desires... will not be reduced to scars and trauma. I am who I am, and whether Alaric tormented me, I will always, intrinsically be this way. I couldn't stand to have my Master see me as some wounded, perverted victim."
"That isn't how I see you, and never will be."
He came to me in the water, wrapping his arms around me, resting his chin on my head.
"You are my delightfully twisted, beautifully sweet slut." He gave me a gentle squeeze, and I heard the smile in his voice. "And you need a strong partner to keep you well-fucked, and well-cared-for. If Alaric Khan's hate has left you in pain, your Master will tend to your wounds. And then he shall continue to be your Master, and bind you when you need it, and indulge your need for pain. He will care for you as hard as he fucks you. Just as I promised."
I closed my eyes, wanting so badly to find solace in his words. Doubt and trouble danced through my mind, and I couldn't seem to find steady ground.
"We will discover the truth behind your encounters," he vowed. "But you must at least consider they may be no more than echoes and night terrors. One of your headaches, fooling your senses."
I shook my head. "Bannon, it's not. I haven't even had such a headache for months."
He paused. Moving to hold me at arm's length, he leveled me with a curious gaze. "Haven't you?"
"No. Not since I cast away my collar, and Alaric's last curse."
His brow furrowed. "But Sadi... not more than a week ago, you told me your head was in agony again. I told the crew you were sick and couldn't work. You remained in our cabin most of the day, remember?"
At first, I didn't. Then, cold, fleeting fear hit my stomach like an arrow.
He must have read the guilt on my face. Withdrawing from our embrace, he took a step back. He studied me for a long, heavy beat, and then, he looked away.
"So." His tone frightened me, low and stiff. "You lied."
Chapter Nineteen
There was no punishment this time. I don't think Bannon had the heart to punish me, not after we'd both just spent days struggling through the last measure of discipline. Something in his eyes said he blamed himself for this, and that look cut more deeply than anything else could have.
We walked back toward the town in silence, the pleasant playfulness of our afternoon ruined. After our dip in the pond, the clear golden sunshine seemed not hot enough, and—still naked—I shivered as we picked our way through the trees to find my stashed clothes.
Schala prowled out from the hiding place with a happy trill. I stooped to stroke her, then crouched to retrieve my belongings, but Bannon stopped me with a hand.
"You'll only get dirty again, right after your rinse. I'll get them."
He sounds so unlike himself. So miserable and upset. Oh, my barbarian, I've been so unfair to you...
I'd apologized, of course, and explained myself. I made no excuses. I didn't plead or try to justify my choice. I'd known what a trespass it was to lie, even as I'd done it, and I knew my Master had every right to exact serious punishment.
But he didn't.
Maybe he's simply thinking up an appropriate sentence.
He rose from the tangle of roots, offering me my folded clothing.
"Thank you, Sir," I whispered. He nodded and leaned against the tree to let me dress.
"I deserve whatever you decide for me," I prompted, pulling my leggings on and wrapping the breast band around my chest. "Please. You know I am not too soft to stand a demanding retribution."
"I know," he mumbled. "But there won't be any. I'm not going to punish you for lying."
Not being punished was almost worse. I knew how to deal with punishment—not how to deal with this silence hanging between us, the doubt and uncertainty. If he decided to spank me, whip me, ground me to one of the ship's bunks by myself, I could tolerate it because I knew once the penance was complete, the transgressions were past. I would be his good girl again, purged of my sins and forgiven. Those were the rules in our game.
Without it, how could I know when I'd earned back his trust? When would he forgive me?
What if he doesn't forgive me at all?
I rubbed at the anxious pain my chest, closing my eyes on the tears threatening to fall.
Bannon climbed the ridge a bit further and stood gazing out at the beach and the cove. I stayed where I was, watching him.
"I think staying in town is a mistake after all." He rubbed at his beard, pivoting to scan the scrubby field instead.
"Why is that?"
"I don't like the idea of staying anywhere near a stranger who tried to stab you. Whatever else may be going on, it's possible Khan has loya
lists even here, or the serpent worshippers have stretched their coils out farther than we imagined. If the Order of Akolet has spies in the city, I don't want you within their grasp."
I moved to his side. "So, what will we do? Return to the ship after all?"
He shook his head. "Not while Arne and his shipwrights are at work. The fewer restless souls to manage, the better. I think we must make camp, here, in the clearing. The horde, too. Not enough room in that inn for us all, anyway. We'll stick together, in case there really are enemies lying in wait here."
I fiddled with the end of my single braid. Ashe did mention this isn't one of the usual ports. How far is the reach of the seven-headed serpent?
We hadn't sailed far from the Ruined Sands, true, but could there really be devotees of that great viper here as well? I'd believed the woman at the flower shop to be possessed. Perhaps she could just as easily have been a skilled spy, or an assassin deployed by the Order.
And of course, I would be an easy target to identify. The moment I stepped through the city gates, anyone who saw me would know. If there are adherents to the serpent's way, they certainly know me.
I hugged myself, running my hands along the tattoos on my arms. Even if they didn't know my name, even if they didn't know my history, the sigils and lines on my skin would betray me.
What had she called me?
Apostate.
The afternoon had grown colder all around me. Overhead, the clear blue sky from earlier now gathered thick, rolling clouds. A chill slipped down my arms and I gave a shiver.
Oh, Bannon... won't you hold me? Don't you see how frightened I am?
I couldn't blame him for his detachment. I'd angered him. No... I'd hurt him.
"Come." He started off down the path toward the beach. "Let's find Mara. She'll have the soldiers striking camp before the sun sets."
Pausing, he tilted his head up to the sky. "The sooner the better. Looks like rain."
The storm brewed quickly, shutting out the sun and filling the air with a frigid bite less than two hours after we'd departed our warm, cozy spot by the pool. Along with Mara and the others, we went to work raising hasty tents in the field, and barely managed half the camp before the rain broke loose. No gradual progression of mere sprinkles to light rain, either. One moment, the rumble of a thundercrack sounded overhead, and the next, sheets of ran beat down on us, soaking us in seconds.
Everyone scrambled under shelter, crowding in the finished tents, and building quick, small fires for warmth. Bannon erected ours in a matter of moments. Vents overhead let the smoke escape, leaving us sheltered and comfortable as the storm beat down on the canvas over our heads.
I sat, legs crossed, staring up at the pale roof of the tent, Schala sprawled in my lap. The rain sounded like drums and made the tent rattle with a pleasant sound. Oddly, I found a deep sense of calm and relief in the downpour. A soothing rhythm of nature, unlike anything the violent and scorching storms in the Ruined Sands.
"Was it raining the night he took me from my home?" I wondered aloud.
Across from me, Bannon sharpened his axe. At my question, he paused, giving me a thoughtful look.
Of course, he wouldn't know. I hadn't asked him, really, and I think he knew it. I listened to the rain drum on for several seconds, closing my eyes and trying to remember.
"I hadn't thought of that night in almost twenty-five years," I told him. "Not until recently. I'm sorry... I'm sure I forgot to tell you, after all that happened. I didn't mean to keep it from you."
He set his axe aside and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked tired and troubled, and I wondered if he wrestled with doubt as I did. A living thing like a weasel, gnawing and chewing at the corners of his mind, and so difficult to lay hands on and evict. The sting of catching me in a real lie, an intentional lie, must still be fresh, even though the lie itself had been so small. So trivial.
It was my failure to trust that was the real issue, and the thing that truly wounded him. I wanted desperately for him to believe there'd been no other deliberate deception, no other lapses in my faith, and I had not withheld these revelations on purpose.
Perhaps Ailsa was right, at least in some way. Leaving the Ruined Sands, embarking on a quest which might unravel the dark shroud around my past, frightened me. In my fright, I'd acted out against the master I'd vowed to trust and obey. I'd never have dared such spoiled and selfish behavior with Alaric. But only because Alaric would hurt me, deeply, personally, if I did. Bannon would never resort to real torment like that.
Bannon deserved better.
"I had a dream," I began. "A dream... or a memory, maybe. It was the night Alaric stole me from my home. I remember the clash of his war drums. Smoke, and fire. People wailing in despair."
In silence, Bannon rose from his spot and came to sit by me. Our shoulders brushed. He slid his hand into mine, loosely twining our fingers. Schala opened sleepy eyes to watch him, but made no noise, only stretching her arms out and then curling up tighter in my lap.
"I was lying in the bottom of a boat. Just a... just a simple boat. A fisher's canoe, maybe. There were others with me. Other children."
I blinked my eyes open and looked into the fire, brows furrowing. "You know, I never knew anyone like me in Vash, though. No one who looked like me or had these gray eyes. What happened to the other children they stole? They wouldn't have—"
He said nothing, but scooted closer, switching hands and stretching one arm around my shoulder. The question hung like lead in my chest. No, it wasn't likely Alaric or his raiders would have killed all the children besides me. More likely, the others had been sold into slavery, bartered to ally tribes and warlords as human livestock.
Even if they hadn't died by Alaric's own hand, though, the savage Vashtaren desert swallowed them up. No children like me, for twenty-five years. Not in war councils, not in ceremonial gatherings. No servants among the nomad tribes with gray eyes. For whatever reason, the shivering bodies next to me in the bottom of that canoe were all long gone.
"Why?"
This time I did ask Bannon, turning to meet his eyes. "You saw his mind, barbarian. Why did he cast aside all from my home except for me? Why would I be the only slave he kept when he must have carried away dozens? Why would I never have seen anyone like me in all these years?"
"I don't know." Bannon broke our gaze, looking instead at the floor. "I know only that his father sent him out to find you and bring you back for the Order sorcerers to kill. I know Alaric's search lasted years. He must have wanted you isolated from them. Truly cut off from all your own tribe."
I chewed my lip and toyed with the end of my braid.
"What else do you remember?" he asked.
"My mother's voice. A man's voice, calling with hers. Not my father, I think... my grandfather. I heard them crying out for me—no, that's not right. They called out for a child named Seren. I suppose, before Alaric made me his desert rose, that's who I was."
"Anything else?"
I closed my eyes again, letting the sound of the rain soothe me. "No. When I dream, though, I hear her voice again. My mother. She calls out to me from somewhere deep in the earth, where a light beats like a heart. Blue light, like the fire on the ship. Then, when I found the cargo hold with the cherries, I saw... someplace, some wood far away in my mind. I saw..."
The altar. The offering arranged in a seven-pointed star. Like the seven heads of Akolet.
The serpent's skull.
These hands, her hands, my hands.
I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself. "Serpent worshippers, Bannon. What if my people are serpent worshippers, like Alaric? Like the Order? I couldn't stand it. To be descended from such... such..."
We both fell quiet again for several more minutes. He lifted his arm from me, and shifted, breaking the contact of our bodies. He rested his chin in his hands, staring into the fire.
I touched his arm. "I am sorry I lied to you. Truly I am. It was unforgivable to de
ceive my Master so."
"Am I your Master?"
The question didn't surprise me as much as it should have. I think we'd both recognized the straining connection between us. I dropped my hand to my side, bowing my head.
"I don't know what lies ahead of me," I whispered. I touched my naked throat, longing for the familiar feel of leather beneath my fingertips. "Everything is so unfamiliar."
"When I asked you to come with me, Sadira, I asked you to trust me. What have I done to lose that trust?"
His wounded tone cut through me like a knife. The fire crackled and danced. The rain drummed. I had no answer. Only Alaric's whispered promise, echoing in my mind.
As long as you live... you will belong to me.
"I'm afraid, Bannon. I'm so afraid. I suspected Alaric's sorcerers of dark magic, I even believed he might have arranged one final, terrible curse before he died, to avenge himself. To hear his voice, though... to see his eyes, looking at me through... through your face..."
"I fought him," he said in a strained voice. "You must believe me, Sadi, I fought him every step of the way. I tried to wrest back control and protect you!"
"I do believe you. But now, all I see are spirits and shadows, I wake in the night to violent sounds only I can hear. And the fire, the fire was blue, just like the light in my dreams. I'm afraid, and I don't..."
My voice cracked. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
With a curious rumble of a meow, Schala lifted her head from my knee and looked up at me. As though she understood my ache, she climbed to her feet and pressed herself to my stomach, starting up a loud purr. I buried my face in my hands.
"Is this what it will be like for me, forever?"
Bannon picked up a long stick and stirred at the fire. His mouth quirked into a frown, and thoughtful lines crossed his brow.
"Were we in my home country, I know where I would take you," he told me. "To the temple of Sherida, where her soothsayers and disciples might have answers for you that I do not. There is a shrine on the Drekakona, where the sailors may make their daily devotions.... but I'm afraid we have no priests or sisters among us who can attempt to divine the truth around you."
Beauty's Secret (Beast and Beauty Book 2) Page 16
