“Yes, I see that was so,” Philip said with amusement laced with anger riding the prominent planes of his face.
Sarah smoothed her linen skirt and adjusted the neckline on her thin cotton blouse that needed no adjusting.
Sarah was always nervous in the presence of Philip. Bracus' brother was the largest of the Band, even more so than Bracus and Matthew. He dismounted, his head above the shoulder of his horse. The muscles in his forearms bulged as he slung the reins over the horses neck and took it by the bridle, mindful of its mouth.
His gaze went to Clara and he nodded. “Clara.”
Clara nodded back. She had an easy alliance with Philip. After he had stepped down as a contender for her hand, there had been no reason not to. As this year had passed, she had come to realize he may have his heart set on Sarah.
But Sarah would have none of it. She avoided all the Band and seemed determined to skim the surface of civility with them. It was an infuriating dilemma. One of the many tasks she had to address.
Philip caught her gaze and she held his for a defiantly swollen moment then turned to Clarence. “Our queen is in apt hands, let us go to the camp.”
She turned to look disdainfully at Philip. “I assume you and the others have readied it?” she cocked a brow in his direction.
His jaw tightened in response to her subtle rankling of him. “It is done. That is why I rode here.”
She smiled up at him. “Good, clansman.” The insult was not lost on Philip and his fists clenched.
Sometimes Clara thought for all Sarah's intellect she could not see what was in front of her face. The Band were not males to be toyed with. But warriors with an objective of clarity: kill to protect.
Those violent biological imperatives, part of the very fabric of their nature were not to be played as a musical instrument.
Sarah looped her arm through Clarence's and strolled off, giving a backward smirk to Philip.
And Clara had thought her amusements with Clarence dangerous!
Philip regained his composure and addressed her directly, “Clara, as I mentioned to your...friends,” he exhaled forcefully and she controlled her expression, “the camp is ready for the night.”
Clara nodded and he helped her mount the horse. When they were upon the steed's back her eyes found Matthew's. His legs were spread far apart, his hair floating on the breeze, eyes pressing on Clara like an erotic weight.
Philip dug his heels into the horse's sides and they moved forward, toward the forest.
Toward the men.
CHAPTER 2
The camp fire was ablaze, the heat warming Clara's skin, her body blooming to life. The days heat was long gone but the remnants of seven hours on horseback rode her body aggressively, tense everywhere. Clara felt the only place free of tightness was her big toe.
Bracus approached her and she watched Charles notice his path and scowl. She sighed.
Males.
She rose and he met her, his hands clasping hers and his eyes softening. They were much alike, Clara thought. They both worked to protect and rule their people in fairness.
He spoke first, “We have searched and have a special surprise for you.”
A genuine smile broke across Clara's face. “Tell me.”
“A soak in a hot spring should take the soreness away,” Bracus said.
Clara felt joyous. She had only had access to the lone pools of water that were icy cold. They tore the warmth away from her body and bathing was something to be done quickly. To have a warm bath after...she looked at Bracus. “How long since our last spring discovery.”
She watched his face as he thought about it, palming his chin, a shadow of stubble sprinkled on his jaw. “Two weeks past.” He nodded. “Yes, it has been about that.”
He held up a finger and Clara knew what would come next. “We must send one of the Royal Guard and one of the Band to accompany the women,” he shrugged.
This is the one point that Clara and he disagreed on. She was uncomfortable knowing that males were about. She understood it was not completely rational, but much had transpired that made her have an urgent sense of vulnerability in that regard.
Prince Frederic filled her mind's eye and she shuddered. The memory of him was enough to give her pause. Even now, surrounded as she was by the Band, she could not make her mind cease its conjuring of his whereabouts. She remembered the way he had looked upon her in the meadow glade during the battle.
He would not quit until he had her.
Bracus captured her chin with his finger and lifted it until their gazes locked. “He cannot hurt you. Nay, we know not even if he survives?” Bracus rolled his massive shoulders into a shrug. “Mayhap he perishes slowly, somewhere lowly and vile. A befitting end for one such as he.”
She could not find a rebuttal better than that. Still she was frightened.
Her eyes left his and sought Charles'. Her face must have shown some of the alarm that swirled about her consciousness because he stood, rapidly making his way to her. Bracus graciously moved away so Charles stood directly in front of her.
They stared at each other for a lengthy moment and Clara blurted, “I am so sorry I struck you.” A hot tear blazing a trail down her cheek.
He swept it aside with a finger and folded her into his arms, whispering against her head, “It is alright, Clara. It is alright.”
Clara trembled on the disastrous abyss of a breakdown, building herself back together by sheer willpower. She had wanted this journey. But the further they traveled from her home sphere, the less certain she became. Had she endangered the group for her quest?
“What has put that expression on your face?” Charles bent down and studied her. The pores of her skin laid bare under his scrutiny.
“Bracus has said they have found another spring,” she said , looking at Charles and he nodded. She went on, “That someone must stand watch.”
She shifted her weight in discomfiture. “He is right in that,” Charles conceded grudgingly. “We cannot have our queen bathing and our other females...”
“Precious females,” Bracus interrupted in correction.
Charles nodded in agreement and continued, “Unclothed and vulnerable Outside without protection because it offends your sensibilities.”
Bracus frowned. “It is not that, Charles,” Bracus began with surprise. “Do you think she so modest as to not understand the protection imperative?”
Charles nodded. Yes he did. He had known her all her life. With the exception of the despicable select rite of the prior year where she had been tested and matched for possible future mates, she was the epitome of female decorum. Charles huffed, “Then what is it, pray tell?”
Clara did not think she needed to say it but, “I am still having some trouble with what has happened.”
Charles did not understand. “With whom?”
“Prince Frederic,” she whispered.
Charles frowned. That dreadful serpent was no more. There had not been a whisper from anything or anyone about his hide spotted in the Outside or sphere alike.
“He is not about.” Charles waved his arms around dramatically and the Band by the fire flicked their eyes to his movements, Matthew's gaze heavy on him. “You worry for nothing!” Charles said, planting his hands on his hips in righteous indignation. Did she not think they would all die to protect her? She was entirely frustrating.
Clara lowered her head in shame. How could she articulate that she awoke with a scream buried within the depths of her throat more nights than not? That Anna caught her gaze and a silent communion of understanding passed between them. That her fear around males of small acquaintance made her terribly anxious, her palms sweating silently as she fought for composure.
Bracus studied her and replied in her stead, “It is not his uncertain demise, my friend, which makes her fret. It is what he divested upon her that has changed her into someone that is skittish around males; as a colt.”
Charles looked down at Clara. He really l
ooked. Suddenly the dark circles under her eyes and her pinched expression meant so much more than travel weariness. The realities of last summer had left their mark upon her. She was not free of her experiences even though they no longer threatened.
“Come here,” she collapsed into him, biting her lip to stave off tears and he patted her back,murmuring the things one does to comfort. All nonsensical. All quite necessary.
Finally, she broke away from his embrace. And with a shaky exhale she looked up into three faces: Bracus, Charles and Matthew.
“What is happening here?” Matthew asked without preamble, his gaze scanning their environment as if there was a threat permeating their camp.
Clara put a hand on his arm and his breathing quickened. She quickly let it drop. It was obvious that touching him casually was ill-advised.
Not that she could do anything casual with him.
Or Bracus.
The Band was not an informal lot.
Sarah bounded up with a knapsack and Philip stood from his position by the fire, his form utterly blocking the blaze as his shadow fell over their group. Her relief was profound. A months' traveling with two virile men of the Band, both their attention set on her had been a fragile thing to balance and she felt herself losing her footing with the pair.
“Ready?” she asked, her smile quick, bathing implements in hand. Anna stood behind her with Thomas and Joseph flanking.
Clara nodded. She needed to be braver than this. She must be a queen even Outside. A queen did not shirk her duties. She would bathe, she would behave normally, she would not let the disquiet of her memories rule her.
They were only memories after all.
*
Thomas traveled ahead of Clara, the moon their guide. Supper that consisted of roasted rabbit and collected greens had been their meal and now the bathing chore laid upon them. Bracus brought up the rear.
The women were in the center: Sarah, Anna, Clara and Evelyn. Bracus had fought for Evelyn remaining with the clan but she had become attached to Clara. No one knew why but somehow Evelyn had seen Clara as rescuer.
Thomas stopped and hailed Philip. Philip gracefully moved pass the group of females and the two conferred with one another for a moment or two.
Finally Thomas turned on his heel and moved into the brush and out of sight.
Clara's eyebrow rose in question and she realized that Philip may not see her unspoken question in the gloom. But the Bands' eyesight was sharp and he answered, “He will keep watch at the forward section of the spring.”
Clara looked about her uneasily. Philip, noticing her unease, continued, “He will face away. He will remain where he is until you call out.”
Clara nodded, casting a wary glance about her. The woods were so....deep. She felt that creeping unease threatening again as Sarah laid her hand upon Clara's arm and she forced her shoulders to relax.
Clara straightened her spine and made her way down the path through brush that had been cut by sharpened tools.
Anna beside her and Evelyn's hand clasped firmly in hers.
CHAPTER 3
Clara and Evelyn swam and frolicked, using far too much soap on every part that they could. Clara's hair, now ridiculously long, floated behind her like a burnished cloak in the steaming pool. It was eerie how much the spring reminded her of the one in which they had bathed near the clan one year past.
The one that Matthew had snatched her from. It seemed so ridiculous now, given how she felt about him.
She was very certain that she loved him. But there was also Bracus.
She was very certain that she may love him as well.
It robbed the smile from her face, those two men that meant so much to her. She could not have both. As it were, the two could barely abide one another. It was her fault. Yet...not.
She was something else. Why was she a select? She moved her hand absently to her throat, unadorned with what the clan-dwellers called throat slits.
Sphere-dwellers called them gills.
Gills like her mother had.
Anna smiled at Clara and she grew calmer. There was a woman that understood exactly what boiled beneath Clara's calm exterior. She smiled back.
Clara looked around, trying not to be distracted by Evelyn's splashing of water in her face.
Where was Sarah?
She held her hand up to the others and tiptoed out of the pool. Grabbing a towel, she made the universal gesture to the girls, stay right here for but a moment. They nodded, broad smiles on their faces.
Her feet flowed over the deliciously cool moss of the forest floor. No mud in sight; the early summer months were upon them and had dried the dirt to a packed mass.
Clara stilled, listening. There! To her left she heard voices. She followed them and after a few paces she recognized Sarah's.
“Unhand me,” Sarah hissed, her body pressed and arched against Philip's, his size overwhelming hers.
Clara's heart flooded into her throat. What was this? Was one of the trusted Band assaulting Sarah? She opened her mouth to yell for Thomas when she heard Philip say, “I understand you better than you know. Stop fighting me.”
Clara watched Sarah gaze up at him, then burst into tears. Philip enveloped her into his arms and she clutched his huge shoulders, trembling as he stroked her hair. Clara stared, marveling. She could not believe her eyes. Philip held her tenderly as she sobbed. What in Guardian's name was going on?
Sarah finally pulled away and stared up in his face as he used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away the tears.
“I cannot be with you! It matters not how I feel. It is foolishness. Clarence is the prudent choice for me,” she said, stubbornly crossing her arms.
Sarah had feelings for Philip! But what was this talk about them not being together? Clara stifled a stab of guilt for her eavesdropping, her hair dripping over her wet skin, chilling instantly against her. She shivered.
Philips mammoth hands ran up and down Sarah's arms. “Can he make you feel thus?” And he pressed his mouth on hers, his hand reaching behind her neck and cranking it back.
Sarah lay stubborn and immobile in his embrace. Then slowly, almost against her will, her fingers crept around his neck. They twined in his hair and with a fierce groan that sounded more like a growl, he picked her up in his arms.
Clara watched as they entwined like serpents, one arm holding her against his torso and she with her hands speared in his hair, feeding off his mouth like one starved.
When Clara heard Sarah give a soft moan as he pressed her closer she turned on her heel and quietly made her way back to the pool.
There was much to deliberate on.
Like the fact that her best friend was toying with two men. Giving an excuse to one while promising fidelity to another? It was so unlike Sarah she could not fathom it.
Clara was distracted anew in the pool, Evelyn and Anna both giving her curious looks. She was not about to expound on her sneaking about until she had a moment with Sarah.
Just as the thought solidified inside her, Sarah appeared beside the pool. Her appearance disheveled, her mouth swollen, her clothes askew. Clara looked at her and decided something. “Come, let us bathe.”
Sarah gave a tentative smile and stripped her clothing off, revealing a body that glowed like the pearls Clara harvested, her blonde hair silvered in the moonlight.
They cleaned themselves and swam. The silence broken only by the intimate conversation of women enjoying a stolen moment alone together in the vast Outside.
*
Sarah saw Clara staring at her. “What?” she asked defiantly, chin jutting out defensively.
“I came upon you and Philip.”
Evelyn and Anna stilled in the water, the ripples flooding around everyone as their motions ceased.
Sarah stared at Clara, the weight of the discovery in her eyes. “What of it?” she shrugged.
“You cannot be serious? The Band are not an amusement! To be trifled with,” Clara added, not as queen but as a
friend.
Evelyn said, “Does Miss Sarah have romantic intentions toward Philip?”
“Of course not!” Sarah fumed. “They are too different for that entanglement. It is a sphere-dweller that I must choose,” she paused, skimming the surface of the water, her eyes focused on the movement.
“That is untrue. They are to mate with your queen, Clara,” Anna looked at Clara, nodding in her direction and Clara nodded in return.
Had she no sense? Clara wondered.
It seemed not, for she said, “He is lovely to look upon but we are not well-matched. Beside Anna, you yourself have said there are females which match the males of the Band exactly. They will have more choice, once we mingle with the eastern clans.”
Anna and Evelyn gaped at her. For someone with such a strong intellect, Clara thought her daft.
“Ah...do not look at me so!” she said to Clara. “It is Clarence that is the choice I must make.” She shrugged. “I told Philip as much but a moment ago.”
Somehow, with Sarah's response to him, Clara did not think that he understood that preference.
“You told Philip that you would be joining with Clarence?” Clara asked by way of clarity.
Sarah's eyes dropped. “Not in so many words. But I said that we could not be together.”
“And how did he respond?” Evelyn asked, her arms crossed over her nakedness.
“He did not speak, but made his intent known,” she said, her eyes dropping to the water once more. Clara did not need sight in the dimness of the moonlight to know she blushed.
“You cannot behave with these males as you do with a sphere-dweller,” Anna said fiercely. “When they bond with a female, there are no others but she. They are a focused group.” She spun her hand above her head and water droplets flung themselves in all directions, landing like rain around them.
Evelyn smirked at her comment. “It was not the way you felt some months past.”
“Tis true. When I first came to the Clan of Ohio one year and one half year past, I could belong to no one. I could barely belong to myself,” she whispered.
The Savage Blood (Savage Series, Book 2) Page 2
