It was a form of greeting, Taylor realized. An intimate greeting.
The woman turned to study Taylor, her greeting done. With a small start of surprise, Taylor realized the woman was wearing chainmail, hose and a tunic, just like a man. She even had a sword strapped to her hip. Everything was scaled down to her proportions. Everything was in Selkirk colors.
She had blue eyes. They weren’t like Veris’ though. Her eyes were almost completely colorless, like a washed-out summer sky, punctuated by the iris. It gave her eyes a hypnotic quality. Her hair was raven black and woven in one long braid down the center of her back.
Taylor fought down the sensation of dismay building in her.
Only a woman of high importance in the Selkirk household could arrange for themselves tailored clothes with the Selkirk colors. And male clothing?
If she and Veris were lovers…
Taylor realized she had let herself stare for too long. She pulled her gaze away from the woman, who was beginning to smile with a self-satisfied expression that made Taylor’s skin crawl.
“I seek a few minutes of Lord Selkirk’s time,” Taylor said. “I was explaining to William that I am happy to be escorted under arms if it makes everyone feel more secure and comfortable. I am no assassin.”
The woman turned to Will. “I will take her.”
Will shook his head. “The assassins have you on their list, too.” He was speaking softly, but not bothering to lower his voice too much because he thought no one would understand him but the woman. Taylor battled to keep her face expressionless as she found herself translating the words almost automatically in her mind. Except for the word “assassin” Will had used ancient Norse. He added, “There are too many spears out here tonight.”
Taylor leaned forward. “Who is she?” she breathed into Mary’s ear.
Mary turned her head. “Davina. Wife of Selkirk.”
Taylor kept her best neutral look on her face as the two turned back to look at her.
Davina scowled at her. “William will escort you to the lord,” she said and stalked away, her sword slapping her thigh.
The sentries stepped aside.
“Watch the horses, Mary. You really don’t want to come inside the camp.”
“I don’t think I do, neither,” Mary murmured.
* * * * *
Veris halted her about ten paces beyond the sentries. “I have to ask you for your knife, my lady.”
“Do you get to search me, too?” she asked, pulling the knife out of her belt.
“I will trust you for now.” He pushed the knife into his belt. “I think we both know I could slit your throat faster than you could withdraw any other weapon.”
“Finally, we are making some progress.” Taylor smiled at him. “And where do we find your worthy lord?”
Veris held out his hand, indicating the way. Taylor picked up the hem of her dress and carefully skirted around the chests, gear, ropes and pegs that might snag her clothes, while trying to look graceful.
“You look much more elegant now,” Veris observed.
“I know you like elegance.” She stepped over a sleeping man and moved on without comment.
“You dressed for me?”
“I would like to say yes, but I actually dressed for Selkirk. One honors the lord one visits, when one is asking a favor.”
“You’ve come to ask a favor?”
“Yes.”
“For your husband?”
“For me.”
Veris laughed.
“Where is the humor in that?” she asked.
“You’re a woman.”
She realized it was simply eleventh century thinking, but still found herself coming to a halt. “Like Davina is a woman?”
Veris halted, too. “That’s different.”
“Why?” Taylor dropped into old Norse. “Because she’s a vampire? Or because she is your lover?”
She heard his breath catch. Now he will try to turn the argument to attack, Taylor thought.
Veris scowled. “Are you jealous, perhaps? I saw your face when she touched me.”
Even knowing why he was doing it, his petty slash still hurt, because it was the truth. Taylor had been horrified, watching Davina’s lovely hands and lips touching Veris. It had made her sick.
“You were,” Veris breathed.
Then he glanced around quickly and straightened up, as if he had suddenly remembered where they were. “You are human,” he said flatly. “It’s not your place to question who we chose to take as partners. You have no claim over us at all. Didn’t your husband teach you this when he deigned to marry you?”
Taylor could feel her eyes stinging and blinked furiously. The last thing she needed was tears, right now. “If that’s truly the vampire creed at this time, I refuse to believe for a second that you follow it. It suits Davina down to the ground, but you’d hate it. You’re too warm. Too human.”
Veris looked deeply offended. “You insult me, madam.”
“Do I? Really?” Taylor held out her hand. “Give me your hand for a moment.”
Veris crossed his arms, looking wise.
“For heaven’s sake. You know you could snap my neck in one second. Give me your hand.” She shook her hand for emphasis.
He laid his hand with the heavy mail gauntlet in hers.
Taylor pulled the gauntlet off and handed it back to him. Veris’ hand was familiar and dear. She lifted it and stroked the palm. Then, delicately, she slipped her fingers between his and caressed the flesh along the sides of his fingers.
She heard his tiny gasp and hid her smile as she continued to caress and stroke the sensitive flesh there. She looked up and saw that Veris was watching her fingers with profound concentration, as if he was hypnotized. She lifted her fingers and beckoned. He leaned down. She reached up on tiptoe and like Davina before her, she slid her tongue up along Veris’ neck. But she followed the line of his tendon and concentrated on the hollow underneath his ear. Then, delicately, she slipped the tip of her tongue into his ear as she let her breath blow over it.
Veris shuddered.
Taylor stepped back. “It’s only because of warm relationships with humans that a human could get to know you and do that to you. I bet Davina never has, Will.”
He growled. It was an animal sound that frightened her and she cringed.
Veris grabbed her arm and hurried her through the camp. She could barely keep her feet and only had one hand to spare to hold up her dress.
He only let go of her arm when they were standing before a large tent and two more sentries. These were fully armed knights.
“Lady Norwich to see Selkirk,” Veris growled. His voice was thick and hoarse. Rage or arousal. Possibly both.
One of the knights slipped into the tent.
“Someone else will see you back to your horse,” Veris told her. “Here.” He held out her knife to her, hilt first. When she took it, he turned and walked away with no attempt at a formal farewell.
The knight returned. “This way,” he said, holding the flap open for her.
Taylor stepped inside.
It was bright with candles and quite hot, plus there was a lot of furniture. That was her first impression.
Selkirk was a middle-aged man with dark hair going gray at the temples. He was unusually tall for the times and had blue eyes that might have been called startling if Taylor hadn’t seen his wife’s eyes or Veris’ first. These eyes just looked ordinary in comparison, and tired. There were the beginnings of bags beneath his eyes, from either stress, lack of sleep or age. But he was once a handsome man and he was still attractive, with an air of command that came with age.
“Lady Norwich, this is…unusual.”
She curtsied. “I appreciate your time and your tolerance, Lord Selkirk. I have an unusual request and I’ve heard that you are a wise man and open-minded. I have hopes that you will listen to my request and help me meet my needs.”
Selkirk waved toward his big chair but Taylor ha
d already learned that the big chairs were for the men. She demurred with a smile and perched on the little chest nearby. “This is…delicate.”
Selkirk gave a small laugh. “If it is a female matter, I am sure it is delicate.”
“It is political, actually. But it is hard to explain.”
Selkirk lifted his shoulders a little. “Plain words are often the best.”
“Then if you are not offended by plain words, I will use them. That will be easiest for me.”
Selkirk lifted a single brow. “If you are able to use plain words, then please do.”
Taylor settled her hands in her lap. “I want to borrow your man, William, for three days to assist my husband while he goes in search of water and food for Raymond’s forces.”
Selkirk sat very still for a few seconds. “Well,” he said at last. “I would not have wagered on that outcome.” He stood and pushed his big sleeves up his arms. Taylor got the sense that he was falling to business. “William is one of my most reliable knights. Why would I deplete my forces by lending him to another for three whole days?”
He was looking for compensation. But Taylor had none to give. Only Brody as the Lord of Norwich had any real money in this time and she didn’t want to drag him into this.
She was going to have try a different sort of coinage. “I would have thought,” she said carefully, “that you might like to have William removed from your household, even for a while.”
Selkirk’s eyes widened. “Very plain spoken indeed,” he muttered. He stalked to a table next to his chair and poured a mug of wine and drank deeply. Then he studied her. “Let us agree that it would be to my advantage to have William gone for a while. It still depletes my fighting forces. That is no lie.”
“There will be no fighting for at least three days. The siege engines won’t be ready for at least that long,” Taylor countered. “In the meantime, the knights you have can take care of any skirmishes.”
“You are an astute woman,” Selkirk responded. “However, it still leaves the question of why you want William’s services for this search for water.” He sat back on the big chair.
“Why do my motives have to be a part of the bargain?” she demanded. “You would not ask this of a man.”
“True,” Selkirk replied easily. “But as I have the commodity you seek, you must fall in with my conditions. Yes?”
Taylor seethed. “Yes,” she replied, as sweetly as she could.
Selkirk’s smile was broad. “I heard that you kissed him.”
Taylor drew a calming breath. “You heard correctly.”
She enjoyed seeing Selkirk’s eyes widen. “You do not deny it?”
“It was a greeting. A gesture. The French—the Normans—do it all the time. But of course in this camp where boredom has driven everyone to invent games and fantasies, a simple kiss of greeting becomes something wicked, instead.” She smiled at Selkirk. “I have heard the same rumor myself, at least three times. Each time it becomes more exaggerated. Next, they will have it that my husband and myself are trying to seduce your captain or something silly like that.”
Selkirk actually blushed.
Taylor spread her hands. “My husband and I are familiar with William’s past and his expertise. He knows the lands around here and the ways of the desert dwellers. He will be an asset on our search for water and food. That is the sum total of my motives in asking for his assistance. The reason I approached you instead of my husband is that I wished to surprise him with this arrangement, for he is feeling the strain of this assignment. I thought William’s company would be a welcome addition.”
Selkirk sat back and thought about it. “In the end all mysteries are so simple, aren’t they?”
“There has been speculation, then?” Taylor asked, feeling a touch of alarm.
“One or two questions, Lady Norwich. That is all. Your reputation is far from besmirched, let me assure you.” He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “It is an intriguing offer, my lady, but in all honesty the threat of the Fatimids is greater than my domestic troubles. I can’t risk sending Will on a trek into the desert that would bring no bounty to my men, simply to satisfy a personal gain.”
Taylor knew she had no authority to offer a portion of the water or food they found, either.
She was stumped. Then she remembered something Selkirk had said earlier and sat up.
“I’ll bet you for Will,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“A wager,” she re-interpreted.
Selkirk’s eyes narrowed and an eager expression crept into his face. Clearly, the troops on the ground weren’t the only ones suffering from ennui.
“How do we decide the matter?” he asked.
“There’s a game called Rock, Paper—I mean, Parchment, Sheers.” Taylor got to her feet and pushed back her sleeves.
Chapter Eight
Brody rose from his crouch in front of the fire as the hoof beats grew closer. They were at the far south end of the encamped Christian forces. To the south lay nothing but desert, so anyone coming this way was coming for the camp, the fire or the siege engine they guarded.
“Someone comes at great speed,” Alexander observed. His olive face was calm. He was a Fatimid, but a Christian and lived a precarious life constantly justifying his existence to anyone he came across. It had not surprised Brody to find Alexander working on the most remote fringes of the Christian forces. He was outcast no matter where he went.
“They’ll kill that horse, riding it at that rate,” another soldier murmured on the other side of the fire.
Somehow, Brody knew this was about him. He turned to face into the inky black night and waited.
It didn’t take long for the horse to appear, not ridden like that. Its forelegs climbed into the air in front of Brody as the rider yanked on the reins, halting it. Froth gathered at the bit and the inside of its nose showed red.
“You!” Veris roared, pointing at Brody. He jumped from the back of the horse, landing lightly in the sand, despite the height. He threw the reins to the terrified page who’d come running and strode over to Brody. His forefinger thudded against Brody’s chest. “I will have words with you, Norwich.”
Alexander rose gracefully to his feet. “I will give you the fire, my lord,” he said and bowed. “Until the morrow.” He turned to the others. “Come, come my friends. Let us find another fire and wine.” The others grumbled, but not very loudly. Veris’ anger kept their protests down to almost nothing. Alexander gathered them up and swept them away with quiet promises of more drink, more food, more laughter. They shuffled off across the sand toward the next campfire where there was a minstrel singing softly, leaving Brody alone with the heaving horse, a half completed siege engine and Veris, filled with more pent up fury than Brody had ever seen in him.
“I’ve had the devil’s own time finding you,” Veris complained. “Your men didn’t know where you went.”
“How did you find me?” Brody asked curiously.
Veris stepped closer. “Your scent, vampire. I’ve marked it now.”
It still would have been a hell of a task to track him. Brody’s search for sustenance tonight had taken longer and been more protracted than usual because of sentries and alert guards. He’d wandered farther than usual.
Veris’ hand trembled as he gripped Brody’s tunic. “How on earth could you marry that…that creature?” he breathed.
Ahhh. Brody wondered what Taylor had done, but at the same time he mentally kissed her. She had prodded Veris somehow and wound him up to the point where he had been shot like a bolt straight at Brody.
“Tyra is unlike any human you have ever met.” Brody kept his voice calm. Quiet.
Veris whirled away. “Humans!” He laughed, but it sounded tight, hard.
Brody caught his breath as he realized that Veris wasn’t just angry. He was aroused. Taylor had reached through his considerable defenses and touched him, strongly enough to send him running for the one pers
on he thought he wanted.
Brendan.
Brody acted fast. Vampire speed fast. He grabbed Veris by the back of the neck and pushed him up against the half-completed siege engine. The wooden sides creaked as their combined weights tested it.
Veris groaned, his hands spread against the wooden wall, trying to press back. But he was too surprised to do much and Brody had his legs spread and the weight off his feet before he could balance himself for a counter move.
Brody pressed up behind Veris, leaning his whole weight against Veris’ back. His heart skittered at the familiar contact.
He snaked his arm underneath Veris’ and grabbed the man’s throat. Veris didn’t need to breath for a while, but he knew Brody could take out his throat with that grip if he needed to. It kept Veris locked in that position as solidly as with irons. He didn’t know that Brody would sooner tear out his own heart.
Brody closed his eyes. Their positions reminded him of so many other times and places. He pushed the memories away. Those memories were all at risk if he didn’t play this moment exactly right.
“You liked what she did to you,” Brody breathed in Veris’ ear. “That is what you will not admit to yourself. A mere human knows you better than you feel comfortable with and it’s driving you mad that you’re responding to her.” Brody reached under Veris’ tunic and heard his hard exhalation as Brody’s hand found his thigh. The thigh trembled.
“Who is she?” Veris breathed.
“Your future,” Brody told him. He found the opening in Veris’ braies and pushed his hand inside. “So am I.” He closed his hand around his cock. He wasn’t surprised to find it as hard as marble.
Veris groaned, his eyes closing. “Impossible,” he muttered. “I decide…”
“You will,” Brody assured him, stroking smoothly, the way Veris liked it best. He could feel Veris responding, the tautness in his hips, the gathering tension in his back. His breathing shallowed. His hands against the wood curled, trying to tighten into fists.
Brody’s own body was hard with excitement, his cock pulsing. So close, so close…
Kiss Across Swords (Kiss Across Time Series) Page 12
