The White Brand (The Eastern Slave Series Book 2)

by Victor Poole

  "What did you do to me?" Ajalia asked. She kept her voice level. As a matter of principle, Ajalia did not believe in seeking revenge, but she was thinking about punching Delmar hard in the nose as soon as she had control of her legs.

  "I pushed the pain out," Delmar said.

  "It's just skin," Ajalia lied. "The scars don't hurt."

  Delmar turned around quickly, and picked up Ajalia's left wrist, the one he had kneaded and infused with golden light.

  "Look, does this hurt?" he asked. He stripped back the sleeve, and pressed his mouth hard against the skin.

  Ajalia was too surprised to pull away; when Delmar moved Ajalia's hand to his lips, and kissed her palm, she snatched her arm away.

  "No," she snapped harshly. A vivid blush was flooding her face. "Of course that doesn't hurt," she said.

  "Look at this," Delmar said. He reached for her right arm; Ajalia stepped away from him. Delmar's face broke into a smile. In the darkness, he was like a beast of joy.

  "I will not kiss you again," he promised. Ajalia examined his eyes; she believed him. Delmar took Ajalia's right wrist in one hand, and pressed it gently.

  Ajalia screamed before she could stop herself. The brown gelding looked around in disgust as she crumbled to the road, clutching her right wrist to her chest.

  "See?" Delmar asked. "In the left arm, I made the pain pass through your skin."

  Tears were streaming down Ajalia's face; she thought that she had been turned inside out. She thought that her right arm must have opened out, and begun to bleed all over her clothes. She struggled to her hands and knees; her throat opened and closed convulsively. Ajalia crawled to the side of the road and threw up.

  Delmar watched her. He scratched the brown horse behind the ears.

  "You are not bad, for a horse," Delmar told the horse. The horse ignored him. "I don't like horses," Delmar added, "but I think you are all right." The gelding's tail swished lazily from side to side.

  After a long moment, Ajalia stumbled to her feet. She staggered to the horse, and hauled herself up into the saddle. Sweat was streaking her temples, and her clothes were wet with a clammy perspiration that was drenching her neck and her shoulders.

  "Give me the reins, please," Ajalia rasped.

  "No," Delmar said simply, and began to walk, leading the horse.

  Ajalia ground her teeth.

  "I am not a child," she said. Her voice was rough and dry. It broke too often. "Give me the reins," Ajalia demanded.

  "Why?" Delmar asked, without turning.

  "So that I can get away from you," Ajalia said. She had begun to shiver, though the night air was comfortable. "I'm fine," she said.

  "Here," Delmar said, taking his tunic from around his neck, and handing it up to her.

  "I'm fine, she said again, but she pulled the brown cloth over her other clothes. "I don't feel good," she added, clenching her teeth to keep them from rattling together.

  "I know," Delmar said.

  "Where's Philas?" she asked. She didn't want Philas, but she needed to know when he would return, so that she knew how long she had to be sick.

  "He won't come back," Delmar said.

  "He's probably been spying on me the whole time," Ajalia complained. "He wants to sleep with me," she said meditatively.

  "Philas went on ahead," Delmar said, tactfully ignoring what Ajalia had said. "He's going straight on to Talbos."

  "Why?" Ajalia asked. "What could you have possibly said? If I was Philas, I would have agreed with you, and then turned back to find out what was going on without me." Ajalia put her arms inside Delmar's tunic, and pulled the fabric more closely around her. "Philas is annoying," she added. "I don't know why he likes me," she said. The horse walked on behind Delmar for several minutes, the clopping sound of his hooves glancing off the mountain walls, and bouncing back. Ajalia scrubbed at her eyes. "You aren't paying any attention to this drivel, are you?" she asked. She was unsuccessfully attempting to suppress a whine that was creeping into her voice.

  "It's a very nice night," Delmar offered. Ajalia sniffled a little.

  Their little party had set out just after nightfall; the moon was high in the sky now, and the glittering stars began, once again, to be shrouded behind dark clouds. The smell of rain was thick in the air.

  Ajalia chewed on the insides of her cheeks. She could feel a wellspring of sentimentality pushing at the edge of her lips, threatening to spill forth. She was sure that Delmar would despise her forever if she started to cry.

  "How did you get rid of Philas?" Ajalia asked. She could not say "thank you" without crying, and she could not bear to cry.

  "It was nothing," Delmar said.

  "Tell me," Ajalia said. "Please."

  Delmar glanced back at her as he walked. She could just see a glimmer of light rimmed in his eyes.

  "I told him I was going to try to kiss you," Delmar said. A volatile eruption of indignation rose up in Ajalia's breast, but before she found the words to express her anger, Delmar cut her off.

  "I told him that I knew I had no chance with you, and he had a better shot if he let me fail first. We agreed that he would be a much more attractive option if I had proved to be obnoxious first. He thinks he's going to rescue you from my unwanted attentions in Talbos."

  They walked in silence for a long time. When Ajalia spoke, she did not recognize the sound of her own voice.

  "Why does he think you would help him?" she asked finally. Delmar shrugged. Ajalia could not see his face. She studied his bare shoulders in the dim light that was seeping from behind the clouds.

  "He thinks I'm stupid," Delmar said. Ajalia heard from his voice that he was sure she thought the same thing.

  "Delmar," she said.

  "And he knows I like you," Delmar added. "He thinks I would give you up, if I thought it would make you happy."

  "Would you?" Ajalia asked harshly. Delmar looked back at her. A crooked smile passed over his face.

  "No," he said.

  "Good," Ajalia snapped. She settled her arms more securely into Delmar's tunic, and pressed her nose into the cloth.

  The brown fabric smelled like Delmar's skin. Ajalia closed her eyes, and put her whole mouth into the cloth. She sighed; the rocking of the horse's walk was soothing, and the night breeze was cold against her feverish skin.

  "You hurt me," Ajalia told Delmar. "That hurt a lot."

  "I know," Delmar said. Ajalia sighed again.

  "I don't like Philas anymore," she told him. "I thought I liked him, but it was a trick."

  "I saw," Delmar said. "I don't like him either."

  "Of course you don't like him," Ajalia said.

  "Well, aside from that," Delmar said. "I don't like him as a person, either."

  "Okay," Ajalia said. She opened her eyes, and watched Delmar's back move with every step he took. "You are a horrible person," she told him.

  "Yes," Delmar agreed.

  "You trapped me out here in the middle of nowhere, and then you hurt me," Ajalia added. "You hurt me on purpose."

  "I'm sorry," Delmar said. Ajalia thought that he didn't sound very sorry.

  "You should not have tried to kiss me," she said vindictively.

  "Can I kiss you now?" Delmar asked. He looked back at her; she looked down quickly, but he saw that she had been watching him. She buried her face into his shirt.

  "I don't like you," Ajalia said. Her voice was muffled by the brown fabric.

  "I couldn't hear what you said," Delmar said. He was smiling. Ajalia bit down on the inside of her cheeks. Delmar laughed. "I don't think Philas will be very happy with me," he said.

  "Why?" Ajalia asked. She put her cheek against Delmar's tunic, and breathed in his smell.

  "How did you get those scars?" Delmar asked.

  "Why won't Philas be happy?" Ajalia repeated.

  "You like me now," Delmar said.

  "I do not," Ajalia said hotly. Delmar stopped, and came up next to her. A tenuous rod of fire had extended from Ajalia'
s heart to Delmar; she could almost feel him breathing.

  "Say that to my face," Delmar said. Ajalia did not like what her heart did in response to the sound of his voice.

  "Stop that," she complained. "Fine, I like you. But only as a friend. And only because of a reason I can't think of right now. And stop looking at me. Please go back to walking now. I will talk to you later. When I can see you better. Go away. I like you a little bit."

  Delmar led the horse over the road.

  "We aren't going very quickly," Ajalia observed.

  "No, we are not," Delmar agreed. Ajalia watched the curl of his hair against the back of his neck. She wanted to bury her hands in his hair. She shook her head vigorously, and stared up at the sky. Half of the sky threatened rain; the other half was studded with crystalline stars. Ajalia watched the edges of the clouds, which were pregnant with the light of the hidden moon.

  They had descended into the dark valley; Ajalia could hear nothing but the clop of the horse's hooves against the rocks, and the jangle of the harness. The light was all gone, save for the gleaming prick of stars that sheathed one half of the sky. The air was wet with the smell of rain. Ajalia's left arm felt cool and dry; her right arm was still buzzing with a kind of nauseating white noise.

  "Did you put magic into my arm?" Ajalia asked. Her voice sounded too loud in her own ears after the quiet of the shadowed valley.

  "What are the scars?" Delmar asked.

  "I don't want to talk about it," Ajalia said.

  "I don't care if you want to talk about it," Delmar said. "What are they?"

  The darkness pressed in around Ajalia's ears; she felt as if she were alone in the long dark valley, with the stars high above, and the barest silhouette of the mountains hugging her on every side.

  "I was branded," she said. "I didn't like the marks. I cut them so they wouldn't show."

  "I didn't know the wetlands marked both arms," Delmar said.

  "They don't," Ajalia said. A swirling heat was stirring up through her body; she clenched her teeth together, and began to count the paces of the gelding's hooves. Nausea was pounding beneath her ears again, filling her jaw with an aching sense that she was about to fall from a very great height.

  THE OLD PAIN RESURFACES

  "Why do you have two brands?" Delmar asked.

  "I don't have brands," Ajalia said roughly. "I have scars, and you are supposed to stop asking about this kind of thing."

  "But I want to know," Delmar said.

  "It's none of your business," Ajalia said.

  "I care about you," Delmar told her. "Doesn't that make it my business?"

  "No," Ajalia snapped. She felt as though her heart had died, and would never fill up her chest with beating again. A hollow sensation was spilling up and down her legs; she was glad that she was sitting on the horse, because she thought she would have had a hard time standing up.

  The silence went on and on; Ajalia imagined that the whole valley was full of nothing but quiet. She noticed that her eyes were wet. She rubbed the tears away with Delmar's tunic.

  "I guess you can have this back," she said, but she didn't take the tunic off.

  "Keep it," Delmar said. "It's hot out here."

  Ajalia squelched a smile that threatened to come out over her cheeks. Delmar's skin was muffled in the dark; she could only see a pale smudge where his body should be.

  "I missed you, when you were away for so long," Delmar said. "I kept looking for you, but I couldn't find you."

  "I was getting my servants together," Ajalia said. She felt as though she should apologize, but she didn't know why she owed Delmar anything.

  "Gevad was sold to the deep quarries," Delmar remarked, as though he were observing the weather.

  "I don't care about Gevad," Ajalia said. She thought of Gevad's wife, and sighed. The thought of Lasa made guilt wriggle in her toes.

  "I ran away the first time, and I cut up my arm to hide the brand," she told Delmar. "My master branded my other arm when he caught me again."

  Delmar didn't say anything. Ajalia thought bitterly that Delmar was just the same as Philas, ready and eager to be helpful and present, all the way up to the point when she told the truth. She wrestled her arms through the sleeves of the tunic to free her hands.

  "Give me the reins," she said.

  "No," he said at once. "Why?"

  "You can go back to Slavithe," Ajalia said. "You shouldn't be out here. I'm better on my own."

  Delmar seemed to sense that Ajalia was about to kick the horse into a run; he came towards her, the long reins tight in his hand, and gripped her hard around the waist.

  Ajalia's knife was in her hand before she had time to think.

  "I don't want to hurt you," she said.

  Delmar snatched the blade from her grip, and threw it into the mountains. He dragged her down from the horse; the gelding whuffled and wandered to the end of the reins.

  "Don't," Delmar grunted. He was holding her down against the road, his fists like iron around her wrists.

  "You're hurting me," Ajalia said through gritted teeth. She tried to kick Delmar, but he pinned her legs down with his knees.

  "Stop," Delmar said.

  "No!" Ajalia shouted. She wrestled against Delmar, but he was too heavy. They struggled in silence for a long moment before Delmar's grip on her right arm overwhelmed Ajalia with nausea. She began to gag; Delmar dodged aside just in time to avoid the retching that tore out of Ajalia's throat. She turned her face into the road, and gasped for air. She began to laugh.

  "I'm sorry," Delmar said.

  "No you aren't," Ajalia gasped. Her limbs were shaking; she tried to sit up, but she could not hold her own weight. Delmar pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his skin. Fevered shivers were running up and down her whole body.

  "This is ridiculous," Ajalia whispered.

  "Shh," Delmar said. He pushed her black hair back from her face, and rocked her back and forth.

  "This is ridiculous," Ajalia said again. Her eyes closed. "Absolutely ridiculous in every way. You are not supposed to be winning."

  "Of course I am," Delmar said softly. He cupped her cheek, and moved her face to see her eyes. "I love you."

  "Oh, hush," Ajalia said harshly. She tried to sit up; Delmar waited, ready to catch her. The gelding had found something to look at on the horizon; he appeared to be utterly uninterested in the situation on the ground. Delmar had dropped the reins, and they dragged with a quiet rasping over the stone when the horse turned his head.

  "At least the horse stays here," Delmar said. He was watching Ajalia closely; she had gotten stuck after the part where she leaned forward to stand up. After another long moment, she eased back into his embrace.

  "I'm getting up," Ajalia warned him, "as soon as my arms work better."

  "Of course you are," Delmar agreed. He did not tell her she was beautiful, but the moon had peeked out again, and she saw the look in his eyes.

  "Stop liking me," she commanded. He laughed; she laid her face against his neck. "I shall punish you," she murmured, "when I feel better. I will punish you for your thoroughly inane laughter."

  Delmar wrapped her up in his arms and stroked her cheek.

  "I love you," he said with a sigh.

  Ajalia grumbled a little, and he laughed again. She stretched the fingers of her left hand against the naked skin of his chest; his skin was like nothing she had ever felt. She could find nothing to compare it to. She stroked the contour of his torso, and a contented murmur rose out of him.

  Ajalia's whole right arm had gone numb; she tried to move the fingers of her right hand, but they were frozen stiff. She pushed her elbow over so that her right hand pressed against Delmar's abdomen, and a tingle of warmth came into her fingers.

  "Philas will be waiting for us," Ajalia said.

  "I told him we'd find him at the docks," Delmar said. Ajalia flinched, and looked at him.

  "But the docks are hours away," she said. A wicked smile had appeared
on Delmar's face.

  "I know," he admitted.

  "I thought you didn't know anything about Talbos," Ajalia said. She studied his face. "What happened to you?" she asked. "You used to be very vague about things."

  Delmar shrugged. Ajalia could see that he wanted to kiss her. A jumble of things was becoming unpacked in her heart. She was not sure what she felt about Delmar any longer.

  "He'll be in Talbos soon," she said. "Maybe he'll turn back."

  Delmar kissed her. His kiss was nothing like Philas's kisses; Delmar's mouth was gentle, insistent, and coaxing. The caress of Delmar's mouth made Ajalia cry.

  Delmar stopped kissing her, and cradled her face back into the scoop of his neck. He made gentle shushing noises, and stroked her hair.

  "You are not supposed to make me feel this way," Ajalia said through hot tears.

  "Give me," Delmar soothed, and took her right arm into his grasp. The fingers of Ajalia's right hand had curled into a paralytic fist; the knuckles were white, and tiny tremors ran through her fingers.

  Delmar made gentle noises of disapproval, and began to smooth out her fingers.

  A squeak of pain escaped Ajalia; she moved restlessly.

  "Hold still," Delmar said.

  "I'm going to go now," Ajalia said bravely. "I'm going to get up, and I'm going to ride this horse to Talbos."

  "Sit still," Delmar said.

  "You are not really in love with me," Ajalia told him. "Maybe," she added. Delmar was rubbing the skin around the crooked white scars. He kissed her fingertips, and wrapped her wrist up in his hand.

  "I wasn't going to do this," he told Ajalia. "I was going to wait for a long time to let the pain of the first side pass. But I think it will be easier if I move this now."

  "What do you mean?" Ajalia asked. A tide of panic slipped beneath her collarbone. "Don't hurt me," she warned.