by Ann Lawrence
“Nilrem’s Seat of Wishes?” he asked softly, his blade hovering over the taxi.
She shook her head. “No. It’s called a car. Like the one you saw in Ocean City.” Did she have the energy to explain internal-combustion engines?
With a sweep of his hand, he erased the plane. “And this is not some fantastic bird that haunts my nights?”
“No.” She said it softly, for his agitation was evident in every line of his body.
“Vad. Gwen. If we wish to arrive under cover of darkness, we must hurry.”
Ardra stood before them, dressed in elegant white wool with gold embroidery. The hood of her cloak framed her face and drew attention to her lovely features.
“We’re ready. Lead the way,” Gwen said cheerfully, faking a smile and hefting the quiver of arrows over her shoulder.
When she looked at Vad, he had once again donned his warrior mien. Any hint of his earlier passion or the confusion of the last few moments was buried far beneath his surface demeanor. Any fears he had about returning to Tolemac without the treasure map were buried even deeper.
“We have no time to waste if we wish to return the maidens under cover of darkness.” And so saying, Ardra swept away from the cavern. Gwen had little choice but to follow; Vad’s footsteps were a constant reminder of his presence behind her.
They had been longer in the grotto than Gwen had suspected. Light burst on them. It dazzled their eyes, poured a bronze gleam over the fortress cliffs. She shaded her eyes for a few moments, until her eyes readjusted to life in the outside world.
The huge red orb of the sun was almost overhead. At the grotto entrance, Ardra’s people were readying a boat. This boat was large and magnificent. It had a tall mast and seats for six or more oarsmen.
At the sight of Vad, the maidens screamed and surrounded him as if a pop star had arrived. They bubbled over with thanks for rescuing them.
“I did not do it alone. You must offer your gratitude to both Gwen and Ardra.” When the maidens made no move, he said in a disapproving voice, “Give them thanks. Now.” He gently shook off the youngest maidens, who clung like barnacles to his legs, and urged them in the direction of the women.
The maidens offered a flurry of thanks to Gwen and Ardra, then returned immediately to Vad’s side.
Gwen watched him. He lifted Liah into his arms. The child tugged at his straggling braids, and he said something that made them all laugh and Liah do it again.
Get to work, she chastised herself. She climbed into the boat and helped Ardra place several painted boxes in the bow.
“He is very patient with their foolishness,” Ardra said. Gwen couldn’t speak. She feared what her voice might betray, so she merely nodded.
“You are different.”
Gwen’s head jerked up. “Different? What do you mean?”
“It is difficult to put a name to the difference.” Ardra shrugged. “But there is something…it is in your eyes. He took you last night, did he not? That is it. You are filled with sadness because he has no place for you in his life.”
“You know, Ardra, he did not take me. That’s not what lovemaking is—taking. I gave myself to him, and there’s a big difference. Remember that when you fall in love. You’re supposed to give, not take.”
Fall in love. When had it happened? When had she passed from admiration of his face and form to something else?
She knew the exact moment, when he had come after her.
But she made a decision. “Vad suggested that your father might be grateful for ridding the fortress of Narfrom’s evil influence. Would that gratitude extend to an escort for me, back to Nilrem’s mountain?”
Ardra looked from Gwen to Vad. “If you are sure you wish to leave him, my father will most certainly grant you an escort. You have but to ask.”
Gwen followed the direction of her gaze. A ray of red sun burst from behind a cloud and filled the grotto with an uncanny light, painting the walls copper. Vad looked bronzed, like a sculpture—beautiful and unreal. “I’m sure,” she said softly. “When Vad leaves with the maidens, I’ll go to Nilrem’s mountain.”
Unfortunately, Narfrom had spent plenty of time telling her how to get into the game, but had not told her anything about getting out. She would have to trust that it all worked smoothly in reverse. She would spend the journey to Nilrem’s mountain praying for rain—and praying that Narfrom never returned. Perhaps the fair sky was a harbinger of better times for them all. She prayed that Narfrom was truly gone from this world. Although she knew it was shameful, she wasted a few moments hoping he’d get hit by a bus in hers.
Tears pricked at her eyes, and she bent to inspect the furled sails to conceal her face from Ardra’s too-knowing scrutiny.
They worked together in silence, Ardra fussing with embroidered pillows and soft woolen blankets, Gwen surreptitiously checking the sheets, lines, and sails.
The sound of marching men filled the watery fortress entrance. Gwen turned and looked up the steps. Ruonail stood there, wrapped in his rich green robes, flanked by his guards.
The maidens hid behind Vad. Liah wrapped her arms tightly about his neck and buried her face in his hair.
“Do not be afraid,” Ardra said firmly, and Gwen relaxed. It felt odd not to be fearful. She’d just spent the last few days in a state of high-level anxiety.
Vad gave only a slight nod of his head to acknowledge the older man. Ardra bowed deeply, and Gwen followed suit. Why annoy Ruonail when she intended to ask him for a favor?
“Esteemed warrior,” Ruonail said from his place at the top of the steps. “Please assure the maidens I mean them no harm.”
“Harm has already been done,” Vad responded.
Ruonail nodded. It was then Gwen noticed the tremor in his frame. When he descended the steps to the edge of the pier, he leaned on one of his men.
“No compensation can make amends for the damage done here in this last month.” Ruonail accepted a heavy walking stick from one guard. It was topped by a golden knob set with amber. It was not decorative, but necessary without the guard’s arm.
“Then you have come to bid us good journey?” Vad set Liah on the stone pier and, with a hand on her head, guided her behind him.
“Aye. But before you go, would you accept a reward for helping me…see the error of my ways?”
“I need no reward except this.” He swept a hand in the direction of the boat.
“What I have to offer you is infinitely more valuable than a simple boat.”
“Father.” Ardra put out her hand and, with a guard’s assistance, climbed back onto the pier. She wrung her hands. “Father. I beg of you, not at this time.”
Her father gently stroked the back of his hand down her cheek. “I did it all for you. I wanted you to have everything that was denied your mother for being born Selaw and not Tolemac.”
“Please. I have never been discontent with my lot,” Ardra said. “I require nothing.”
“Silence, child.” The words were gently spoken, but a very specific order.
Ardra subsided, but her hands continued their agitated motion.
Ruonail drew himself up to his full height. “I have been beguiled by a man’s stories of power. But now I am recovered. Ardra informed me you have taken time from your own urgent concerns to save these young women. She is filled with admiration for your sacrifice. Thus I wish to offer you the greatest possession I have—my daughter. I offer her to you as a lifemate.”
The world spun a moment, and Gwen needed to grasp the smooth wooden mast for support. Lifemate?
Gwen looked from Ruonail to Ardra, then to Vad, whose impassive features gave no hint of his thoughts.
No one looked stunned. Did that mean she was the only one who had not seen the possibility? Gwen’s stomach churned. She sat down heavily on one of the supply boxes, a vicious headache behind one eye.
Ruonail lifted his stick to the red sun. “We Selaw share the same light, earth, and sea as Tolemac, and yet we have fought
for generations. I have jeopardized the first fragile peace, perhaps irreparably, should the Tolemac councilors fail to accept my compensatory gifts.” He indicated the seven boxes in the bow of the boat. “To truly know peace, we must join together. As we speak, Tolemac is negotiating a lifemating between a Selaw princess and your high councilor, Samoht. If one of his warriors were to take the same step, it would start our chiefdoms on the road to a deeper, firmer peace.”
What horse hockey, Gwen thought. He’d just kidnapped seven maidens, chained them to walls, and he spoke of peace. She had to bite her tongue to keep silent.
“You have not demonstrated any wish for peace. Senga will bear the scars of her manacle for all her days,” Vad said with a small loss of his usual control.
“What damage has been done to these others, I can only conjecture.”
That’s it, Gwen cheered inside. Reject the old hypocrite.
“One must start a journey of redemption at the site of one’s sins.” Ruonail made his halting way to where Vad stood. “Selfishly, I know that should Tolemac learn of my…foolishness, ‘tis likely I will be beheaded—”
“No, Father, please.”
Ruonail lifted his stick, and his daughter fell silent. “Do not fear the truth, daughter. I face possible beheading—banishment, at the very least.” He turned again to Vad. “If you take my daughter as your lifemate, no man would dare harm her when she is alone here at the fortress, prey to unscrupulous men. We both know that the sun-rising after I am gone, hordes of men who seek to possess all I have will descend. Ardra will need a strong man such as you.”
Vad smiled. It twisted his scar with wry amusement. “I see Ardra did not tell you of my own predicament.”
“Aye. She did, and Narfrom had other thoughts on your lack of sword. I need no display of weapons. A man either demonstrates honor or he does not. It is not necessary that you give your answer now. I will hold Ardra bound to you by my promise until you have accomplished your quest. Perhaps the knowledge that you will have my blessing to rule my fortress will compensate you for what Narfrom took from you. Return when you have dealt with the council, and we will sever or seal a pact of mating at your wish.”
“And should you be gone ere I return from the Tolemac capital?”
“Then I beg that you will look kindly on my precious daughter and offer yourself as her protector and lifemate.”
With a sweep of his robes, Ruonail returned to his place at the top of the steps. There, framed by a stone arch and his men, Ruonail raised a hand.
“A woman alone is prey in this world. A woman between the coveted ice and the men of power is not only prey, but also a prize. Think of the power you will have as her mate. Think of how you will be able to influence the use of the ice.”
Gwen’s body went numb. It was as if the intense heat from Vad’s body was only a distant memory. Wind scoured her cheeks and cut straight through her short cloak.
“I send Ardra with you to the Tolemac councilors. They are not so very far,” Ruonail continued. “The council is camped at the border. The negotiations for Samoht must be very close to being signed. If you take Ardra to them, she will help plead your case as you attempt the restoration of your sword. Take what help she may offer you, be it only the comfort of her companionship.” With those words, Ruonail left them.
“Vad, my father makes great sense when he says I should accompany you.” Ardra slipped her hands into her cloak. She paced along the pier before him. “As a woman, I can escort the maidens without suspicion, see their fathers, intercede—”
“I do not need intercession.” Vad began to herd the maidens into the boat. Despite his words, he made no objection as Ardra climbed aboard.
Gwen put out her hands to each girl and helped her to a seat. Several guards, the designated sailors, jumped in behind them.
Vad put Liah in last, hoisting her high overhead before settling her on a cushion. The gesture was playful, but Gwen doubted he was in a playful mood. The maidens each clamored for his attention, for a place at his side.
Gwen took advantage of the noise to challenge Ardra. “You knew what your father was going to propose, didn’t you?”
“I suspected.”
Gwen hated the pity in Ardra’s eyes. “Since when? Before we rescued the maidens? Or even before that? At Nilrem’s cave? Did you know what reward your father had set for freeing him from Narfrom’s influence?”
“Nay. You go too far. I sought only Nilrem’s wisdom, or a means of breaking a spell. How could I know Vad would be there?”
It was almost impossible for Gwen to reply. Despite the obvious truth of Ardra’s words, Gwen felt betrayed.
“Last night, my father and I spoke for long hours of my challenge to him over the testing. It was then he hinted at his plan.” Ardra glanced at Vad, who was swamped in maidenly hugs. “You were not about last evening. I could not tell you what I suspected.”
Not about last evening. Of course not. She had been making love by the waterfall. While overhead, Ruonail was planning Vad’s marriage—to someone else.
“But you don’t object to the match, do you? After all, Enec is dead, isn’t he?”
“That was unworthy of you.” Ardra swung around. She took her place in the bow, the perfect consort for the perfect man.
Unworthy. Yes, old Gwen was unworthy of a man like Vad. He was husband material for a politically connected wife—like Ardra.
Gwen looked at him, surrounded by his seven new friends. Liah had curled up in his lap and lay fast asleep, her face tucked into the crook of his arm. The others were no longer in their designated spots on the boxes of bribes. They were clustered around his boots and leaning on his arms, also sound asleep.
He’d do well with children, she thought. Lots of them, following him about like the Pied Piper.
I was right to avoid entanglements, she thought. They lead to heartache. She took in a long, shuddering breath, but it did nothing to ease the sharp pain that lodged in her chest.
With a low command from Ardra, one of the Selaw escorts picked up an oar and began to shove the boat away from the pier. Gwen knew it was now or never. She jumped from the boat.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“By the sword!” Vad burst from the gaggle of females and snatched the back of Gwen’s tunic. He held her dangling over the water, half inclined to drop her in. “Have you lost your senses?”
“Put me down,” she said with all the heat he loved.
Gone was her sad demeanor, her almost skittish, colt-like behavior. Fire snapped in her eyes. He swung her back into the boat and dropped her onto the blanket-covered deck. He stood over her, his hands on his hips, and offered her his most menacing glare. “You are foolish, woman.”
She struggled to her knees and jerked her tunic back in place. The men were staring at her bare stomach, exposed by his rough handling.
“So what? And don’t call me woman. I have a name, damn it. How dare you…I have every right to leave if I want.” Her little chin jutted forward; then her face altered, shifted, her eyes widening, her mouth dropping open. “Your sword.”
“It is a knife,” he began, but then saw what she did. Although not close to its once-vibrant color, the knife handle was clearly more blue-green than gray. He felt an easing, a loosening within him.
“You’re better,” Gwen said with a smile so sweet, he wanted to somehow capture it forever.
She was swamped by maidens who climbed over her to surround him. The boat rocked dangerously, and Ardra snapped a terse command, which was instantly obeyed, to everyone’s amazement. The maidens took a seat, one to a box, knees primly together, hands folded, but eyes still avidly on his knife—or his groin. He could not tell which.
“Aye,” he said. “‘Tis a wonder.” He touched his brow.
Ardra nodded and gave him a smile, but somehow it did not light up his insides as Gwen’s had.
“You must have done something, eaten something healing,” Ardra said.
He had e
aten nothing save an apple Gwen had fed him in the darkness. He had done naught to restore his health, unless one could believe that the power of her embrace was healing.
Red swept over Gwen’s cheeks.
She was thinking as he was. The seven maidens, the escort, and Ardra were all staring in fascination at her face. He must divert their attention.
“You have not explained yourself. Why were you leaving the boat?” The instant he opened his mouth, the maidens, at least, snapped their attention in his direction.
“Ardra promised me her father would see I was returned to Nilrem’s mountain.” She mirrored his stance, hands on her hips.
“I will see you to Nilrem’s mountain.” The maidens’ heads swiveled back and forth. He did not relish the public expression of her anger.
“When? After your quest is over? After your sword-restoring ceremony? Or maybe after your lifemating ceremony?”
“You are impertinent,” Ardra said with a gasp. But when he raised his hand, she held her tongue.
“The ‘when’ will wait. It is only the ‘why’ you need know. You are my duty. My responsibility. I take my responsibilities seriously. I brought you to this place, and I will return you.”
“Marvelous.” Gwen sat cross-legged on the blankets, arms folded over her chest, her face turned away.
Ardra resumed her place and renewed her orders to push off.
“Do not think to try such behavior again, do you understand?” he said. “It is important we have use of your ability to sail this vessel, should these men prove more oarsmen than sailmen.”
“It’s sailor, not sailmen,” she corrected.
Let her think he needed only her sailing ability. If it kept her off guard, so be it. He needed time to think of what she meant to him and how to communicate with her so Ardra could not hear his words.
When he settled back in his place, an icy wind in his face, the maidens once again clustered about him. Their scents and little muttered sounds interfered with his thinking.
Gwen sat with her back to him, her chin on her fist, staring straight ahead.
