Kiss Across Swords (Kiss Across Time Series)

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  There were hundreds of the miniature deer-like creatures, with their long spiral horns and dainty noses. There were so many, they made the ground they covered look like a moving carpet of brown fur punctured with raked backed needles.

  Food, Taylor realized, carefully rolling over onto her knees so her mail didn’t jingle. She reached for the bow and quiver of arrows lying nearby and picked them up. Moving silently on bare feet she crept to the edge of the reeds that lined the oasis on her side. The ibex were drinking on the other side and at the moment she was no threat, although they had seen her.

  She planted seven arrows point down in the soft sand by her foot, strung her bow and notched an eighth arrow. Slowly, she raised the bow and sighted on an ibex that wasn’t standing in the water. Then she lowered the bow, looking at the animal. She wasn’t sure where to aim.

  “The heart is just behind the front leg,” Alexander murmured, just to her left.

  She jumped, swallowed a gasp. He was standing bare headed and barefoot, looking at them.

  “So you do it,” she told him.

  “I would, but I cannot use a bow,” he apologized. “Any other weapon would panic them. It is up to you, my lady.”

  She took aim again, all her old high school lessons flooding back. She wondered if Mrs. Craddick had ever thought that her bellowed instructions about notch-and-release, breathe-and-relax would ever have been put to such use. Then Taylor let the arrow loose.

  It flew straight and true. The bow was powerful and beautifully made. The ibex she had been aiming for staggered a little and dropped tiredly to the sand. Taylor honestly tried to feel sorry and sick for the creature, but she and the men and everyone waiting for them in Jerusalem would need this meat to survive. So she watched with a disjointed lack of passion as the ibex died.

  Alexander was murmuring something.

  “What?” she asked.

  He blushed. “Actually, I was thanking God for sending us this much needed meat,” he confessed.

  “Thank him for me, too,” Taylor suggested and strung another arrow. She lifted the bow and took aim.

  She downed six ibex with her eight arrows. By that time the herd panicked and tried to back out of the oasis, calling out in their alarm. That woke the sleeping soldiers and knights, who realized that food on the hoof was among them and withdrew their knives and tried to capture some of the fleet-footed beasts, who began to jump and kick back. Dust rose and shouts. A few more were caught, but the six Taylor hit with her arrows were the bulk of the hunt.

  The ibex were hung from palms and the process of skinning and dressing the carcasses begun immediately, before the heat of the day set in. The men gathered around Taylor, congratulating her on her marksmanship and level-headed thinking. There was admiration in their voices and faces.

  But neither Brody nor Veris was among them.

  Alexander held up his hand toward Taylor. “Behold, our Naila Fathiyya!” he declared. One or two laughed, but most of them looked puzzled. Alexander laughed. “In my language, it means she is the lady who conquers and supplies. Today she has truly done both.”

  The soldier who guarded Taylor’s camp drew her to one side. “My lady, I ‘ave Sir William over ‘ere. ‘E wants a word wiv you.”

  “Then let him pass, David. Didn’t my husband tell you Will was to be passed through at any time?”

  “My lady, wiv all due respects, I don’t like the look of ‘im. ‘E turned up before the moon woz up last night demanding your time and I put ‘im off by saying you woz sleepin’. And now m’lord ain’t come back at all last night either. I’m not easy about it.”

  Taylor licked her lips. “Are you saying Will has been waiting to speak to me since about eleven o’clock last night?”

  “Aye, m’lady.”

  “And he hasn’t got impatient? Or angry?”

  “No.”

  Then he was already angry and hiding it.

  Taylor’s heart thudded. “You didn’t see my husband at all last night?”

  David shook his head.

  Where was Brody?

  Taylor knew that putting Veris off any longer would simply fuel his rage. She smiled at David. “I’ll see Will. But David…hover nearby would you? Just in case?”

  David saluted. “Yes, my lady!” He hurried around the wagon that was the nominal “door” to their quarters. He had barely passed it when Veris strode around it. Veris was moving fast. Too fast for human—he was being indiscreet. As he came closer to her, he pulled the knife from his belt.

  Her adrenaline surged, but before she could do more than open her mouth and draw breath, he’d already swiped the tip across the hand she had brought up to defend herself.

  The point of the blade burned across her palm. It was a shallow cut.

  Veris stepped back, the knife held by his side. His chest was heaving. His face was red with the effort to control his fury and keep it at human levels.

  Taylor turned her hand palm up to stare at the beads of blood. She looked at Veris again. Nausea was swirling through her. God, please let her not be sick here in front of this man.

  Veris pushed the knife into his belt. “He wants you. I want him. You’re the problem, Tyra. Taylor. You’re getting in my way.”

  She drew a breath, trying to stay on top of the adrenaline shakes. “At last. You see me as an equal.”

  Veris blinked. She had surprised him. Good.

  “You look depleted,” she added. “From the look of it, you’ve lost plenty of blood last night. Did Brody do that?” She held up her hand. “Would you like some of this?”

  He sucked in a breath.

  “Although the last time you tried mine, you lost control of yourself. You couldn’t figure out if you wanted to eat me, or bond with me. Quite the schizoid dilemma you went through. You actually cried when you came back to yourself.” Taylor hated using that ultimate moment of vulnerability this way, but Veris would understand, later. She needed all the leverage she had right now. It was her blood dripping into the sand and Veris’ knife that had carved into her flesh.

  “Vampires can’t cry,” Veris said, but his voice was hoarse. Doubt?

  “They can when they’re pushed very hard and I’ve got you there once. Do you doubt I can get you there again?”

  His knuckles whitened on the knife.

  Attack, Taylor thought.

  “It’s an interesting coincidence that you have the same name as my wife. My dead wife, from the fifth century.”

  She felt her guts turn hot and churn. How had he figured that out? Did Brody know? Was that why Brody had stayed away all night? Oh fuck, oh God, oh hell…

  Veris was watching her face. “It was you,” he said softly. “You were there.” He nodded. “I’ll let your husband of this time tell you what they did to me after you left me on the forest floor that night. I dread what you will do to my life when you depart this time.” He pointed at her. “You have done enough to my life, Tyra-Taylor-whoever you are. I don’t want you in it anymore. I have enough scheming women in my life. Leave me alone. Let me have Brody. You don’t need him. You clearly have means to prey on unsuspecting men elsewhere.”

  Raw, dreadful pain ripped through her heart.

  He stepped backward, clearly meaning to depart.

  Taylor hurried forward. “Wait, Veris. Please.” Her voice was trembling.

  Veris shook his head. “I have said my piece.”

  “And I get no say at all?”

  He hesitated.

  That was all the time she needed. Taylor threw her arms around him and pressed her face against his cheek. She closed her eyes. This was Veris. He smelled the same, sounded the same. He used different words and reacted differently, but he had suffered a centuries-old hurt because of something she did and her guilt was enormous.

  “I’m sorry, Väinämöinen,” she breathed and felt his shudder at the use of his name.

  “I’m so sorry. If I had been able to stay until morning and save you from all that trouble, I would h
ave. I don’t know how to control it. Time just takes me. I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay in your arms and talk about love and about marrying you. I was so happy that night, you have to believe me.” She lifted her head to look into his eyes. She knew her own were tear-streaked, but there was no time to hide them. She knew she had a few short seconds to try to undo the damage she had done that night. Pausing to hide tears would rob her of precious time.

  Veris’ face was stony, but his eyes told a different story. He was listening to her. Even though he didn’t remember the night itself, he was listening.

  She stroked his face and tried to smile. “Rid yourself of Davina, Väinä. She’s evil and she’s making you unhappy.”

  He drew in his breath. “Who are you—” he began.

  She touched his lips. “I know,” she said simply. “Trust me in this. You love Brody, Väinä? You want him?”

  He swallowed. “Yes.” His voice was hoarse.

  “Then he is yours. I will make certain of it.” She paused to let her voice even out once more. “I love you, Veris. If that is what will make you happy, then that is what you will have.” She kissed him, not looking for a response. Simply a kiss goodbye.

  Then she made herself walk away. She managed to get around the end of the wagon, out of his sight before her knees buckled and she fell forward and was comprehensively sick.

  Alexander’s hands touched her back and her head, pulling her hair out of the way. He soothed her with soft sounds and words even though she was crying as she was sick.

  “Taylor!” Brody’s voice, hoarse and strained, from a distance.

  She saw Alexander’s boot kick sand over the pile of vomit she had produced. Alexander picked her up, sitting her farther away from the pile and looked at her hand, brushing sand from the blood.

  “It’s shallow, but it should be cleaned and bandaged,” he decided.

  “Boiled water,” Taylor told him, between hiccups.

  “Taylor!” Brody called again, much closer this time.

  “Of course, boiled water,” Alexander assured her, with a nod. He got to his feet and headed for the water.

  Brody rounded the wagon and dropped to his knees in front of her. He was a bloody mess, his tunic smeared in dark, dried bloodstains from the knees upward. His face was covered in flaked and dried blood, but seemed whole and unbruised. His hands were the same.

  Taylor stared at him. “Where were you?” she asked.

  “I saw you confront Veris,” he said. “I was too far away—on the other side of the oasis. I couldn’t do anything but watch.”

  “I mean, where were you all night?”

  “Unconscious for a lot of it.”

  “Veris did this?”

  “He knocked me out then fed me a drug, I suspect, from the way I felt when I awoke…something I suppose Davina uses on him when she wants him biddable. I woke up around sunrise and walked back in time to see him take a swing at you and you talk him down.” He shook his head. “You have no need for swords. You’ve courage enough without them.”

  She could feel her tears beginning to flow again and shook her head. “I’ve lost him. Completely and utterly this time. He knows about…” She sighed. “He suffered the consequences of a trip he and I made a few weeks ago, back to fifth century Norway, to Veris’ family. That was the key change in his past. That is what has made him so wary of women and hesitant about dealing with Davina. He was punished for my disappearance back then.”

  Brody nodded. “I know. He told me about it last night.”

  Her tears flowed. “Now he won’t have anything to do with me. He knows it was me back then. He thinks I did it deliberately and left him to suffer alone because I’m uncaring and cruel, like Davina. I’ve let him go, Brody.” She drew in a breath, trying to control herself and only half succeeding. “He’s yours now. I told him that. He wants you. I told him to be happy.”

  Brody sat in the sand and drew her onto his lap. She let herself be comforted and cried her eyes out against his disgusting tunic, shutting out the light, safe in his arms.

  * * * * *

  Sometime after that, Brody cleaned her hand and bound it with the clean cloth than Alexander brought.

  Alexander hovered but did not speak much.

  “My taste for this place has soured, Alexander,” Brody said as he worked on her hand. “We have meat now and water. If we pack, we can leave in two hours. Is there somewhere we can camp a day’s travel from here?”

  Alexander considered the matter. “We have the numbers, my lord, that we could camp where we found ourselves and be safe enough, and now we have the water, too.”

  Brody nodded shortly. “Good. Let’s make it so.”

  Alexander nodded and withdrew.

  Brody kissed Taylor’s cheek. “I’m going to wash this blood off me, then see if there’s any possible way to discreetly feed.”

  “I’d volunteer,” Taylor said softly, “but there could be all sorts of unexpected consequences.”

  He shook his head. “I won’t risk using you, not here.” He glanced around, making it look casual. “I suspect Veris is off doing the same thing.” He smiled grimly. “It wasn’t a totally uneven fight last night.” His smile faded. “Then I’m going to talk to Veris.”

  Taylor caught at Brody’s hand. “He thought I was like Davina. You can’t blame him for that. All along he has been looking at us and thinking you have been caught by a woman like Davina. Everything you told him about me only confirmed it in his mind and when he found out I was his wife from Norway, it was the icing on the cake. For Veris, the possibility of another type of women existing never occurred to him. Not in his world, or for him.”

  Brody stared at her. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said at last and disentangled his hand.

  Taylor bit her lip. “Be gentle,” she told him.

  “Like he was with you?” he asked.

  “He could have killed me or beaten me half to death. There are a dozen far worse things than this paper cut he might have done,” she pointed out.

  “He delivered far more than just a paper cut,” Brody shot back angrily.

  She looked him in the eye. “So did I.”

  Brody’s mouth lifted in a smile before he could stop himself. Then he gave a laugh. “Atta girl,” he said. “Was he at least limping?”

  “Mentally, anyway.”

  Brody pushed his knife into his belt and picked up his sword belt. “Then I’ll go deliver the coup de grâce.”

  “Veris is drawn to strength,” Taylor pointed out.

  Brody winked. “I know.”

  * * * * *

  Brody brought his head out from under the tiny waterfall to find Veris watching him from the edge of the creek, his arms crossed.

  Brody’s pulse shot skyward. He sat up, glancing at his sword and knife sitting on the rock next to the stream.

  “You’ve fed,” Veris said. “I didn’t think both of us would get away with it in this tiny camp. We’re more creative than I thought.”

  “Have you come to argue, fight or something else?” Brody stood up and snagged his clothes from the rock next to him. Normally, nakedness didn’t bother him, but he wanted every advantage in this conversation and he was vulnerable without mail.

  “You have no need of protection, if that is why you’re reaching for your garments,” Veris said.

  “Prove it,” Brody said.

  Veris unbuckled his sword belt and dropped the sword on the flat rock at Brody’s feet, right next to the edge of the running water. The knife that usually lived in his belt—the knife that had sliced open Taylor’s hand a scant hour before—landed next to it.

  Brody lifted his gaze back to Veris and was startled when the man continued to shed more. His tunic and boots. A knife that tucked into the top of them. His leggings and mail and undershirt and braies. A knife on a string around his neck.

  Finally, Veris stood naked at the edge of the stream, his feet planted in the hot sand, a pile of his clothes next to
him, his weapons at Brody’s feet.

  “I am yours,” he said simply.

  Anger tried to roil through Brody and fizzled out. “She was defending you, even as I left to find you and beat you again for what you did to her. She was crying her heart out and defending you.”

  Veris drew a breath. “I think…I may have been wrong about her. But she wants me to be happy, and I need you.”

  Brody’s heart jolted. “Why?”

  “You’re the one piece of sanity and happiness that has come my way in decades. And strength. You have it by the bushel.”

  “You beat the hell out of me last night.”

  “We both know that is not the kind of strength I’m talking about. You were going to walk away from me last night because of a principal. A priority. Even though you know it will bring disaster upon three lives. I admire that. I love it.”

  Brody hated that he was responding to Veris’ admiration. To his love. He wanted to hate him for refusing Taylor. But that was not why they were here. And they had delivered enough hurt and confusion to this Veris’ life already. If they pushed him further, it would be simple cruelty.

  He was an admirable man who had done what he could with his life under extreme circumstances. Taylor was right. Veris had tried hard to overcome adverse conditions. It was a wonder he had not warped more than they had found him.

  “You’re a good man, Veris,” Brody said softly.

  Veris looked surprised. “I don’t think anyone has ever told me that. Not the way you mean it.”

  “Come here,” Brody said.

  Veris stepped into the running stream, which brought him within a foot of Brody and face to face with him.

  Brody picked up Veris’ hand and rested it around the back of his own neck. “You’ve had more than enough of being dominated and possessed. This time, you take me.”

  “But…you were a slave, were you not?”

  “Much, much longer ago than you were.” Brody grinned. “Besides, I always like being taken by you.”