Damn, she thought. She rolled up on her knees and quietly crawled out of her tent. She tiptoed past the sleeping forms lying by the campfire’s embers and walked past the horse line. She stood and deeply inhaled the clean night air. She closed her eyes for a moment, tilting her head back. Please help me find a way to Lexin, she prayed, both to her God and to the god of the Werre, Arahtok.
She had been blessed with seeing Arahtok when Drace had been trying to get back to Kismera. Cerise knew that didn’t necessarily give her any special treatment, but she did believe in his love wholeheartedly.
“Why are you out here all alone?” a quiet, but hostile voice came from behind her, so close she could almost feel his warmth.
Cerise jumped and whirled around. “Damn it, Lexin! You scared me half to death!” she whispered hotly. She took a step backward so she could look up at him and proceeded to step with a bare foot on something thorny. “Ow, ow, ow,” she muttered and put a hand on his arm to balance herself as she felt for the thorn in her injured foot.
“Let me see, woman,” Lexin ordered softly, and squatted in front of her, his right hand moving gently down her calf.
Cerise sucked in a breath at his touch, suddenly self-conscious of the fact that she only wore her shirt and a wispy pair of panties.
Lexin had in fact been aware of what little she wore from the moment he had seen her slip from her tent and move beyond the horses. After waiting what he believed was enough time to relieve herself without returning, he left his sentry position to seek her out. Now he held her calf firmly in his hand and her scent filled his nostrils, a combination of a woman’s musk and a floral scented soap. A scent uniquely Cerise.
“Do you see it?” Cerise asked in a tight, strained voice, still holding onto his shoulder, her nails digging lightly into his mail shirt.
Trying to focus with a mind gone blank with lust, Lexin hesitated to answer.
Her hold tightened on his shoulder. “It feels like a thorn as big as a nail. Please, Lexin, get it out.”
With a shake of his head, Lexin focused on her foot, easing her around so that he could run his hand over the bottom of her foot.
Cerise squeaked when his touch tickled until he found the thorn. “Ow!” she hissed.
“Easy now,” he said. “Hold still and I will pull it out. ‘Tis only a tiny thorn.”
“Tiny, my butt—it’s huge. Please Lexin, it hurts,” she whimpered, the thorn’s entry point burning.
“Hush, little one. I have it,” he told her, and with a pinch of his fingers, the thorn was gone from her foot. He decided not to tell her that it had been a much bigger thorn than he had first thought.
Lexin fought the urge to pull her to him and lay his face against her lean belly. His mouth went dry and he could not help himself as he ran his hand back up her calf when he set her foot back on the ground. It would be so easy to move it further. He knew in his heart her skin would be soft and so warm. He could cup her bottom with his hands and pull her closer. Maybe….
“Lexin, you can let go of my leg now,” Cerise whispered, interrupting the fantasy that ran through his mind.
By Arahtok’s mane, what is wrong with me? Lexin released her as if stung and stood, crossing his arms over his broad chest to hide the shaking of his hands. He knew that Cerise could not see in the dark as well as he could, glad she could not see how his manhood strained against his soft leather breeches. He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out.
“Can you walk back to camp or does your foot pain you overmuch?” he asked her.
She tested weight on her foot. “I can make it back myself,” she answered him and began to slowly make her way, Lexin at her side.
“You should not go too far from camp after dark, my lady. You did not bring even an eating knife with you,” he commented, but kept the frustration out of his voice this time, knowing she would be angered by a scolding, no matter how good the intentions were.
Cerise came to a halt by the horses, and turned slightly to look up at him. “What happened to you, Lexin?” Her voice held question but was also accusing.
Her question startled him. “What do you mean, my lady?”
She put a hand on his chest, and felt him suck in a breath. “Before you left, you seemed interested in…, well, you know. I had thought we were at least friends. Now, you won’t even speak to me unless you have to. What did I do wrong?”
Lexin looked down at her in shock and pain. He wished he could tell her—tell her all of it. But she was Cearan’s woman now. Lexin was shamed as well. By his honor alone he could not take her as a lover now.
Cerise gave him an exasperated look when he didn’t answer and shoved against his chest. Then turned away to continue on to her tent.
Lexin grabbed her by her upper arm when she turned, bringing her back to face him. “Cerise, do not…,” he began, but had no idea what to say. She jerked her arm but he did not release her. “Please, Cerise.” He ducked his head in shame. “There are things I cannot tell you. I am not worthy of you, and you now belong to another.”
“What?” she exclaimed, and then repeated it softer when Lexin shushed her outburst. “I don’t belong to anyone. And just who the hell do you think I belong to anyway?” she asked in a hissing whisper.
Uncertain now, Lexin released her arm. “I had thought that Cearan mated with you.”
Cerise laughed out loud. “Why are you men so stupid some times? Jesus, it amazes me.” She looked down at her bare toes and shook her head.
Lexin felt resentment heat his blood at her tone. “Go you to your rest, my lady, before I say or do something else to make you feel that I am stupid,” he snapped in a low voice.
Cerise hurried away from him, sensing the anger in him once more, and ducked into her tent.
Lexin stood there for a moment more and then turned away to make a circuit of the camp, eyes and nose searching the surrounding countryside. He made a second tour and finally had his temper cooled and under tight control.
He reflected on what he knew and felt the back of his eyes burn, wishing with all his heart he had ridden from Bellmore and headed in a different direction, turning his back on his word and his king.
Chapter Seven
Lexin and his party continued on to Trevess, stopping the second night at an outpost of Oralia and then camping the following night. The fourth evening, the group rode into the village of Chorshee, a large village within the lands overseen by the Werre, this one governed by a steward sent from Oralia by Ki Lionblade’s father many years ago.
Lexin reined his stallion to a halt in front of an inn called the Rusty Sword and dismounted in front of the stables. He motioned for the others to stay mounted. “I will see if there are rooms still available for this evening.”
From the noise within and the number of horses visible from the open doorway of the stable, accommodations would probably be few. Lexin disappeared inside the tavern entrance.
“Surely there is another inn in this town?” Cerise asked Cearan as they sat on their horses and waited.
“There are two others, but this time of summer there are many travelers, and this is the better of the three,” Cearan answered her. He stretched in his saddle by arching his back and then he yawned. “I am thinking I could sleep in the yard this night. The only thing I want more than sleep is a good meal.”
“What, no willing wench?” Cerise teased him with a mischievous grin.
Cearan managed to look affronted. “I travel with a lady. I can curb my desires until a more suitable time.”
Cerise laughed at him and then saw Lexin exit the tavern. “Ah, our fearless leader returns,” she commented, drolly.
Lexin took his horse’s reins from Merrick as he addressed them. “There is but one room left this evening. Cerise may sleep there and we are granted use of the stable loft. I have requested a meal for us.”
Cerise and the other two men dismounted and they all led their horses into the sta
ble, finding the last four stalls. An older man appeared to take over care of the mounts, but a quick exchange with Lexin and Cearan had him bringing oats for the horses while the group settled the horses themselves.
Eyes turned as the four came into the busy tavern and headed for an empty table. Despite being armed with a couple of daggers and a short sword, Cerise was grateful for the accompaniment of the three mailed and heavily armed Werre men.
Several of the patrons were clearly merchants and traders and some were townsfolk having an evening meal. However, there were a few occupants who had Cerise stepping closer to Lexin’s side. He took a possessive hold of her elbow and gave a threatening glare to the rest of the room. No one in the room felt like challenging three big Werre warriors.
The group took seats and a serving woman brought them all ale. “The lady’s bath will be ready after your meal, my lord,” she said, addressing Lexin.
Lexin nodded in answer as he removed his gloves.
“How many days will it take us to get to Trevess?” Cerise asked Lexin, after taking a testing sip of her ale.
“If the weather remains fair, three days and one seven-day,” he answered, using the Werren term for a week.
The serving woman returned with plates of beef steaks and potatoes. On her next trip she brought a fresh green salad, bread and a small crock filled with butter.
The four ate hungrily and when finished, rested while they drank a second mug of ale.
Cerise could not stifle the large yawn from behind her hand. Her head drooped in fatigue. She rose wearily when the serving woman came to escort her to her room and bath. Cerise bid the men goodnight and followed the woman to a small room tucked under the eaves on the third floor.
Cerise finished her bath and pulled on a white, sleeveless shift that fell almost to the floor. She was tying the ribbon that held the front closed just above her breasts when a soft thump against her door halted her hands.
Holding her breath, she listened intently. Again she heard a muted thud. Her heart in her throat, Cerise moved on tiptoe to where her dagger lay on a small table by her bed. Grasping the hilt the way Cearan had taught her, she moved on silent feet and listened once more at her door. There was definitely someone out there.
Deciding surprise was her best defense before the unknown person could enter her room, Cerise lifted the latch and jerked open the door with her free hand.
Cerise had forgotten the fact that it might be dark in the hallway so she did not see the chair that had been placed in the doorway or the body that had exploded out of it and bounced off the opposite wall. The hissing sound of a sword being drawn was unmistakable though, and Cerise stumbled against her door jam when she back peddled in her haste to move away. She fell flat on her back in the center of her room with a loud oomph.
She had managed to maintain her hold on her dagger and when the intruder followed her into the room she scrambled to her knees and lunged at his legs with it. He easily deflected the dagger with his sword and knocked it from her hand, covering it with his booted foot. Only then did Cerise look up, seeing Lexin in the light of the two candles in the room.
Cerise slumped back to her knees, her hands resting on them, and her head drooped. “Oh God, Lexin,” she gasped. “You scared the hell out of me. What are you doing sitting outside my door?”
Lexin looked down at her as he sheathed his sword. His right hand appeared in line with her vision. “Please rise, my lady.”
Cerise took his hand and stood with his help. “You didn’t answer my question, Lexin. Why were you outside my door?”
“I had thought to protect you,” he answered her at last. “Did you not notice how some of the males in the tavern looked at you?”
Cerise blushed at his statement, and went to stand by the tiny window in the room. That had been the reason she had stayed close to him in the common room. She had seen enough lustful glances in the common room that she didn’t care how ill-tempered Lexin had been. He still was a hard line of defense against unwanted attention.
Lexin watched her, his mouth dry and his body hard. Her hair was still damp from her bath and had dampened the front of her shift, making it nearly transparent. He cleared his throat and moved to close her door after he retrieved his fallen chair and brought it into the room.
“You should not have opened the door, not knowing who was on the other side,” he commented to distract his wayward thoughts from her breasts.
“So what am I supposed to do? Just wait for whoever’s out there to come in here and do what they want?” Cerise returned hotly, but reaction was beginning to set in and her hands started to shake while tears welled up in her eyes.
She made a small noise of some sort that had Lexin closing the distance between them and gathering her into his arms.
“Shhh now, ehmar, it is alright.” He held her close against him, mindful of his chain mail against her soft skin. “You were very brave.”
“Really?” she asked, her voice still high and full of emotion.
“Really,” he replied and allowed himself to rest his chin on the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her. “You were fierce as a lioness.”
“You’re just saying that,” Cerise argued, and then sighed as the adrenaline left her, leaving her more tired than before. She pushed gently against his chest and he released her.
“Would you like to use the bath? I don’t think the water is too cold.”
Lexin raised a tawny eyebrow at her. “I can wait until we find a stream when next we camp, or use the horse trough as did Cearan and Merrick.”
“Lexin, please don’t take this the wrong way, but we rode all day in high heat and you’re wearing mail that has to make you hotter. You have a very, manly scent to you. Use the bath. It’s going to stay there until morning anyway.”
Lexin made a sound in his throat that could have been either agreement or argument. Finally he said, “Very well, but I will wait until you sleep.”
Cerise laughed at that. “Don’t be shy now, Lexin. But if it will make you more comfortable, I’ll turn in now.” She climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up to her waist. “There’s room here for you as well. You don’t have to sleep in a chair outside the room.”
“My lady, your teasing may have consequences if you persist. Sleep now for we have a long ride tomorrow,” Lexin said, his voice sounding strained even to his own ears. He hoped she did not devise that as well.
Cerise meant to tell him that she would have accepted those consequences, welcomed them in fact, but she was so tired she could not form the words. She closed her eyes when Lexin turned his back to her, moving to secure the latch on the door.
He sat in the chair he had brought in and watched Cerise sleep for sometime, wanting her. He wanted her almost from the first time he had seen her, but had only approached her as a friend. He had known that she came from different lands, although he did not know where. He also knew her ways were very different than those of the Werre, so he left her to approach him, not knowing what her people thought acceptable behavior. However, he had lost control one afternoon when they had gone to look for weapons at Ki’s insistence.
Cerise pushed at him, even taunting him somewhat, and his control had snapped there in the armory as he kissed her deeply. Cerise had returned his passion but then surprised them both by hitting him. He received a bruised eye for his trouble.
When she had realized she desired him as well, it was too late. He had been summoned to Bellmore. They had exchanged a few more kisses before he rode away, but no more. He burned for days on his journey to the High Kingdom, wondering what would have happened if they had had more time.
Lexin stood and removed his weapons, leaving them on the table close at hand. His chain mail shirt followed and then he sat to remove his boots.
Cerise woke at Lexin’s soft grunt when he removed his second boot and sock. She opened her eyes only slightly, her long dark blond lashes hiding her gaze. She rem
embered to keep her breathing as if she were still asleep as she watched. It proved difficult when Lexin rose to remove the padded, heavy linen shirt he wore underneath his mail.
Muscles made hard from years of handling weapons and horses rippled in the low light. Cerise glimpsed a broad, smooth chest that narrowed over a flat firm belly. Cerise nearly swallowed her tongue, so strong was the urge to run her hands over his stomach and chest.
Lexin slanted a look toward Cerise before his hands moved to the laces of his soft leather breeches. Once shed of his pants, he stepped into the cool water of the tub. He sank down, pulling his knees up to accommodate his height.
He unbraided his hair and finger combed it until it fell over his shoulders and down his back. Even as cool as the water had become it felt wonderful.
Cerise was right he realized as he caught a whiff of himself and wrinkled his nose in distaste. He reached for an empty pitcher next to the tub and filled it with his bath water, leaning over to pour it over his head. Once his head was good and wet he traded the pitcher for the soap and lathered his hair.
Unable to bear her self torture any longer, Cerise turned over in the bed to face away from Lexin. The only thing that had kept her from going to him was that she was still a bit angry from his insults of women being deceitful.
Images of his naked backside ran through her mind and kept her hurt at bay. When he turned she had glimpsed a new scar under his left collarbone, puckered in the center with small slashes on each side. One similar graced the hard muscle of his left thigh. His penis lay soft in a nest of dark blond hair at his groin.
Cerise was surprised to find she must have dozed again for a moment, waking when Lexin pulled the spare blanket from the foot of the bed. She turned her head to look at him with sleepy eyes as he laid the quilt on the floor close to the door, dressed again in a pair of clean breeches.
“Oh for God’s sake, Lexin, come lay down,” she snapped irritably. “I promise not to touch you.”
Lexin looked at her in surprise and then quickly masked it. He retrieved his blanket and moved next to her at the bedside, after blowing out all the candles. “My lady, if you would be so kind as to let me have this side of the bed—I wish to be between you and the door,” he said and when she scooted over, he slid a dagger under the pillow and lay down. He lay on the covers, flat on his back, placing his hands behind his head.
Lexin's Quest (Knights of Kismera Book 2) Page 5
