by Gaelen Foley
“You wouldn’t even listen!” She dropped her satchel on the ground in irritation and tore off her cloak. “Anyway, I don’t answer to you. You have no authority over my life. I can do what I want and go where I please.”
“No authority? Do you really want me to pull rank on you in both hierarchies—church and state? Because that is not the point, Wrynne! You manipulated me!” he exclaimed, straightening up and turning to her. He loomed over her, exceedingly tall, muscular, and annoyed. “Pardon if I seem a bit perturbed about all this, but it’s been rather a bad day for finding out I’ve trusted the wrong people!”
Her jaw dropped. “Don’t lump me in with them! Thaydor!” she protested. “Oh, fine! Very well, yes, I could have been more truthful. But don’t put me in the same camp as those who betrayed you, because I would never! Surely you don’t doubt that at least I’m on your side?”
He was silent for a moment, still unwilling to let her off the hook, much to her surprise.
Sweet Ilios, he was lawful.
“Lying is not a small thing, Wrynne. Not to me. Not even for a good cause. All right? So don’t do it again.”
“I heard you the first time,” she muttered, hating being scolded like a child. She folded her arms across her chest, scowling at the mossy rock wall.
He stared at her, but now she was the one refusing to look at him.
“From the first moment I saw you, I trusted you instinctively,” he said. “How could I not? My life was in your hands. And you saved me. Nobody ever saves me. I’m always saving everybody else. But you… Now I find out you tricked me and played on my trust just to get your way—”
“So I could help you!”
“It doesn’t matter. A lie’s a lie. Don’t you understand what that does to someone like me, whose whole existence is usually a matter of life and death, from one quest to the next? I’ll tell you what it does,” he said crisply before she could insist that he was overreacting. “It plants a seed of doubt that we cannot afford to have between us, especially if our lives are going to depend on each other…as they apparently are, now that we’re both being hunted.”
She shook her head at him, amazed. “I don’t believe you. You’re questioning my loyalty? Whether or not you can trust me, rely on me? After I saved your life? Twice?”
“No. I’m questioning if you can follow orders. Like Eadric should have done. Like a good soldier.”
“I’m not Eadric, and I am not a soldier—”
“Precisely why you shouldn’t even be here!”
“Still, let’s not forget that you’d have been clapped in a man-catcher, shackled, and thrown in a prison cart today if it wasn’t for me. Honestly! Pardon me, Paladin, if I am not as virtuous as you and chose to keep my own counsel on my true plans this morning. So sorry! What was I to do? Let you go tearing off alone to get yourself killed?”
“You can’t even go home now because you followed me!” he shouted, gesturing angrily in the direction of Mistwood. “You were seen by countless witnesses aiding a fugitive. A man the king himself has singled out as an enemy of the Crown. Don’t you see? You’ve put yourself and possibly your whole family in danger for my sake. All I wanted, Wrynne, was to protect you. So I could come back later and we could be together—”
“Wait. What?”
“But now, because of this, I have no idea what will become of either of us. There’s nowhere safe for you until I fix this.”
“And you will. And I’ll help you. That’s why I’m here.” Striving for a conciliatory tone, she moved closer, privately stunned by his professed wish to be with her.
His admission gave her the courage to ignore his intimidating anger; she fingered the front of his coat and attempted to cajole him into forgiving her. “I wasn’t trying to deceive you. Please don’t be angry anymore. Listen to me. I do have training, you know, the same as everybody at the Bastion. I won’t get in your way, and I promise, you don’t have to worry for me so much. I’m not some delicate little damsel in a tower. I can take care of myself. I’m not worried about being safe. I just want to be with you.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “What need have we to wait until later, when we can be together now?”
He grasped her wrists lightly and stilled her caresses on his chest. “You could have been killed today,” he said, his eyes deadly serious. “Reynulf doesn’t play games, and now you’ve made an enemy of him. Me, I can take him. But he’ll use you against me. I’ve got to hide you somewhere…” He looked away, pondering. “Maybe at the Bastion.”
“No.” She pulled free of his gentle hold and backed away, losing patience with him. “You’re not getting rid of me, you big, bullheaded Clank. You don’t have to save the world alone. Let me help.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I really think you need me.”
He ignored her. “I suppose I could send you to my father…”
“I am not leaving your side. Clearly, it’s the will of Ilios that we face this together.” She lifted her chin. “Why else would He lead you to battle the Urms on my very doorstep? Maybe He told me to go with you this morning and look after you. Did you ever think of that?”
He arched a brow. “Ilios doesn’t tell people to lie.”
She lost her temper again, nearly spooking the horses as she kicked her satchel out of her way. “You want to know the truth? Very well. I hated your plan! Go and talk to the king? Oh, indeed. Well, I’m sorry, Thaydor, but when somebody’s trying to kill you, you don’t sit down with them for tea.”
“No, that would be too honest, wouldn’t it?” he needled her with a sardonic smile. “You know—not to brag, my lady—but I do have considerable experience in matters of strategy.”
“And absolutely no fear.”
He snorted. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Blast it, you’re my responsibility now! I didn’t yank you back from the jaws of death just so you could go rushing out and get yourself killed! I gave up too much to save you—” She snapped her mouth shut abruptly, but it was too late to call the words back.
“What did you say?” he asked, his stare homing in on her.
Her heart pounded, and she faltered.
“Wrynne?” he demanded, leaning closer.
“Never mind,” she mumbled, turning away.
“No, do tell, my lady. What did you mean by that? What did you give up to save me?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He clasped her elbow firmly and turned her around to face him once more. “It matters very much to me. Tell me, now.”
She clamped her mouth shut.
The paragon lost patience. “Speak, woman!”
“I will not. It’s none of your concern.” She yanked her arm free and glared up at him.
“On the contrary, I think it concerns me directly. This has to do with the method you used to save my life, doesn’t it? How did you bring me back, anyway? I’ve noticed you have not been terribly forthcoming about that, and I have a right to know.”
“You’re alive. That’s what matters.”
“But how? Humor me. I know full well my wounds should’ve killed me. I saw the amount of blood in my armor and my helmet when I cleaned it. What did you do to me?”
Suspicion crept into his face. Doubt.
She let out a huff of indignation. She couldn’t believe how he looked at her all of a sudden, as though he was wondering what else she might have lied about.
“Well, it’s nothing nefarious!” she cried, aghast at his leeriness of her.
He backed away from her a little. “Don’t tell me you actually are a sorceress, like those yokels said back in the town?”
“No, of course not,” she said in exasperation.
“Did you use some kind of unsanctioned magic on me?” he demanded, looking rather spooked.
“No! Thaydor. It’s sanctioned. I swear, you can trust me.”
“Oh? Then start talking.”
He had her cornered.
Wrynne heaved a sigh and
looked away. She had tried to spare him, to avoid the reaction she could guess he would have, but he wanted honesty? Very well.
“It’s called the Kiss of Life spell. I learned it at the Bastion, so please, calm down, it’s fully sanctioned by the church. You were going to die, Thaydor. I’m just a mid-level healer. I wasn’t powerful enough to save you any other way.”
“Kiss of Life?” he echoed.
“Have you ever heard of it?” She eyed him anxiously.
“Heard of it, yes. Don’t know the details. Explain…please.”
She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. “It’s fairly straightforward. Whoever designed the spell knew how hard it is to think when someone’s dying right in front of you, so, thankfully, they kept it simple. First, there’s a short but weighty incantation: Vincit tenebris lux, amor vincit mortem.”
He touched his stomach vaguely, as though he had felt his very flesh respond to the sacred power of the words that had healed him. “Light conquers darkness,” he translated in a low tone. “Love conquers death?”
“Yes. While saying that chant, I had to let my blood drip into one of your wounds.” She pulled up her sleeve and lifted her bandaged left forearm to show him the proof of what she said. “And then I had to kiss you. On the lips. And then you were healed. Do you remember any of this?”
“No.”
“You slept for two days. Then you woke up; I found you in the waterfall, and all the rest you know. You see? Nothing wicked. And I’m in perfect health,” she assured him. “My blood is clean of all ill humours, so don’t worry that I mixed it with yours.”
“Huh.” He folded his arms across his chest and touched his chin in thought. “But even white magic comes with a price. So what did you have to give up in exchange for my life?”
“It’s no great thing. I don’t regret it in the least. I was happy to—”
“Stop trying to delay and just tell me!” he burst out in exasperation.
“Before the Kiss of Life, I could have healed this cut magically for myself.” She lifted her arm and showed the bandage again. “Now I can’t.” She rolled her sleeve back down quickly. “That was the price. I can’t heal myself anymore. Just other people.”
His face fell as he stared at her, his blue eyes filling with compassion…and regret. “Oh, Wrynne…”
“I don’t care! Trust me, it’s fine. I don’t miss it. I was only doing my duty, just like you.”
He tilted his head, the anger fading from his face. Something much softer was taking its place as he gazed at her.
“Please, don’t look at me like that,” she said. “I’m not some hero. You’re the hero. And for me, it was well worth it to see the Paladin of Ilios preserved to fight another day.”
He was gazing at her tenderly but looking rather pained. “Then it seems I am indeed in your debt.” He stepped closer, but she backed away in vexation.
“No, you’re not! Ugh, this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you! There’s no debt. You don’t owe me anything. Please. I didn’t really do it for you, anyway; I did it for Ilios. Does that make you feel better? As I said, it was my duty. Nothing personal. I didn’t even know you then.”
“A kiss on the lips of a dying man? Sorry, demoiselle, but it doesn’t get more personal than that.”
She looked up at him, at a loss. “I gave it to you freely.”
“And now look where it’s led you.” Taking hold of her wrist, he drew her closer. This time, Wrynne did not resist.
Gently pushing up her sleeve, he examined her bandaged forearm by the firelight. “May I?” He glanced at her face and whispered, “Let me do this for you.”
She made no objection as he pulled out the tucked end of her bandage and then began unwrapping it from around her arm. She stood, docile, as he turned her palm up; her cheeks filled with heat at his soft, careful touch on the delicate skin near her cut. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes, his angular face sculpted in the fire’s orange glow. He opened his eyes again and cupped the air a couple of inches over her wound with his open hand.
A sweet warmth began to glow from the heart of his palm, focused on her cut, but spreading with a lovely tingle up her arm and down to her fingers. She marveled at being on the receiving end of a healer’s magic for once. Paladins were the only sort of knights who had the power.
Slowly but surely, her torn flesh began to mend. It only took about thirty seconds and the cut disappeared. But then, when her arm was once more perfectly unscathed, Thaydor made contact, laying his hand on her skin.
And at that moment, a strange thing happened.
Wrynne drew in her breath, closed her eyes, and gasped as a shock of unimaginable pleasure ran like lightning from the place where he touched her all throughout her body, down to her toes. A soft, sensuous cry of confusion escaped her as it flashed, lingering especially strong and hot in the core of her womanhood; she bit her lip and shuddered.
Thaydor had to reach out and catch her around the waist to stop her from fainting headlong into the fire. “Are you all right?” he asked quickly.
She sagged against him, panting. “What was that?”
“I-I don’t know.”
She swallowed hard, striving for clarity. It passed just as quickly as it had seized her.
“Wrynne?”
Sweet Ilios. She looked at Thaydor in astonishment. Did I just have a…?
Gracious! She suppressed a giggle. Well, that was rather naughty.
Not my fault, her conscience defended.
How is that even possible? She looked at him, wide-eyed. Why, he is a man of the most remarkable talents…
“Answer me. What’s wrong?” Bewilderment replaced the worry on his face when Wrynne glanced at him, mischief dancing in her eyes.
He had no idea that he’d just made her come.
“So, er, you really can heal,” she commented awkwardly, her cheeks flushing.
“Yes, as I told you. Simple injuries like that. Did it hurt when I—”
“No.” She cleared her throat and casually inspected her arm, unable to look at him without yearning to devour him. “Not at all. Thank you.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, staring at her apprehensively again as he ran a hand through her hair.
“Oh yes. Ahem. Thaydor? Did you…do something different to me? Something else…besides healing?”
“No. Why?” His blue eyes searched hers innocently.
You are beyond adorable, she decided, trying not to laugh. “No reason.”
He was eyeing her strangely. “Perhaps you should sit down.”
“Yes.”
Solicitous as ever, he steadied her as she took a seat on one of the bedrolls.
Whew. She chuckled to herself and leaned back on her hands, stretching her legs out before her and crossing her ankles. Still tingling a bit, she suddenly felt lovely, if perhaps rather scandalized at herself, and she was glad Thaydor did not seem to realize what he had just accidentally done to her.
Not that she minded one bit.
He crouched down beside her and stared into the fire for a moment. Darkness was descending outside, but the rain poured on, running in rivulets off the cave’s arched entrance.
Wrynne sighed and dropped her head back luxuriously for a moment. “I should see about our food now.”
He didn’t seem to hear, his gaze fixed on the bonfire. “Maybe you were right,” he said at length. “Maybe, having brought me back, you are now responsible for me in some odd way. But I’m responsible for you, too. We have to stick together.” He sent her a matter-of-fact sideways glance. “I think our path is clear. We have to marry.”
“What?” She sat up straight, her eyes widening.
“It’s obviously the path that Ilios has set for us. As you said, why else would he have so clearly brought us together? More to the point, ’tis my duty to ensure your safety after all you’ve done for me, all you’ve sacrificed for my sake.”
&n
bsp; “Thaydor—”
“You must be protected, and since it’s my duty to see to that, you must stay by my side. Given both our roles as servants of the Light who must behave as examples to others, our traveling together cannot be seen as improper or scandalous in any way. After all, if the likes of you and I cannot act honorably, then no one else will even try. So, what say you?”
He looked her up and down. “Marry me when we get to the Bastion tomorrow. It’s the right thing to do.”
Her eyebrows rose slowly. The stiff, pragmatic marriage proposal from the Golden Knight had flabbergasted her.
His lips twisted in amusement. “Very well. You have until tomorrow to decide. But I suggest you make your peace with it, for I’m afraid I must insist.”
“Thaydor…” she finally managed again.
“Yes, Wrynne?” he asked in a tone of lavish patience.
She cast about for reason. It wasn’t easy after the experience of a moment ago.
“Is this all because of the Kiss of Life spell?” she asked, suddenly fearful his care for her was purely concocted by her own magic. She didn’t want that kind of marriage.
“Darling, you gave up your ability to heal yourself for my sake. Then you lost your sweet little woodland home and now your peace and your good name, all for helping me. Honestly, what did you think I was going to do? If you understood my nature at all by now, and I think you do, you should’ve seen this coming and thought it over before you followed me this morning. Am I some dishonorable cur to let a woman give up everything for me, and then just walk away from her?”
She stared into his eyes, at a loss. He really was a bullheaded Clank. But he was so, so hard to say no to. “I appreciate your concern for me, truly, but I am not marrying you out of obligation. As I told you, you don’t owe me anything. So, thank you, but no.”
He tilted his head, studying her in perplexity, then he looked at the fire again. “Very well… Perhaps it’s my turn for a bit of uncomfortable honesty.”
He bit his lip and sent her a sidelong glance.
“What is it?”
“I’m not asking out of simple obligation, Wrynne. I like the notion of having you for my wife, because of your own…qualities.”
