Suddenly an expression of concern replaced his smile. His second hand joined his first, framing her face in a gentle, firm grip. “What is this?” He ran a thumb across her spit bottom lip. “And this?” She guessed he indicated the remainder of a bruised eye. “I was distracted by pain when we met, but I do not remember you appearing so beat up.” He frowned. Eve did not know if it was aimed at her or his lack of memory. Either way, something made her tremble.
“Masters have every right to punish their slaves.” She stated the fact in a flat voice. Mridle informed her of the law repeatedly as a warning to her. He had exercised these rights often and well on her in the past.
“You are a slave?” The surprise did not detract from the severity in his tone.
“Yes.” She paused. “A runaway slave.”
With a swiftness that surprised her, he located the leather band around her throat. The circle rested where one had lain for as long as she remembered, above her collarbone pulled snugly against her neck.
“Unbutton your collar so I can see it.” Not waiting for her to obey, he searched his pockets for something.
“I removed everything resembling a weapon when we got here.”
“Whatever for?” His face hardened with disapproval. She flinched at the intensity of his gaze. He noticed and regret passed behind his eyes. “Sorry. You were correct to do so. I would have done the same. I am sure you were considering my state of mind.” She still heard the tension, but she knew she was not the cause.
“I will get them.”
“Please do.” He moved himself to a more comfortable position. “I want you out of that tonight.”
She gathered the items she had hidden: an eating knife, an ornamental blade, and a well-used, wickedly sharp dagger. He chose to use the last one. After instructing her to stand in front of him facing the fire, he started to undo the two buttons she had forgotten.
As he pushed the fabric away from her throat, Eve realized her dangerous position. His knife hung inches from her and she possessed no way of defending herself. Just as she opened her mouth to protest, his hand encircled the thick band and her heartbeat quickened.
With his fingers protecting the skin from bruising, he slipped the blade into the space between the collar and her slender neck. Carefully he applied pressure to the leather. After only two quick, hard pulls, it gave way.
She did not pay any attention to where it fell because she became preoccupied with her patient. He groaned in pain after the final tug. The clutter moved aside with a sweep of her arm before she urged him to lie down again.
“I should have told you to wait a few days.” She shifted the mess to the table.
“I would not have listened.”
After a quick check that none of the stitches were torn loose, she replaced the lamp. When she returned to the shelf, she found him waiting for her. Ignoring the man’s eyes, she gathered the blanket she used the past few nights and purposefully approached the closet door. As she passed the table, she glanced at him. “Do you need the light?” she asked.
“Where are you going?”
“I will sleep in the lean-to.” She forced her voice to be firm. She did not intend to discuss the matter. “Want me to extinguish the lamp?”
A frown indicated he wanted to argue that she not sleep away from the fire, but finally he shook his head. “Yes.” He adjusted his position and said, “Good rest,” as if dismissing her from his presence.
“Good rest.” She blew out the flame. A quick glance behind her verified his eyes were again watching her. After closing the rickety door firmly, she regarded the back wall only inches from her nose.
The space was completely black accept for the star shine seeping through gaps in the boards. Eve tried to concentrate on the woodland around the building rather than the warmer and much larger room beyond. Panic rose in her throat. She forced the fear aside and focused on the sounds of the forest. Kurios, help me. Blanket wrapped about her shoulders and huddled against the cold, she settled in for a long restless night.
Bands of light fell across her face. Even as she opened her eyes, she knew she had slept late. Alarm pushed all sleep from her mind. Mridle is going to beat me again. She sat up abruptly, striking her skull solidly on the slanted ceiling above her.
“Are you alright?”
The question came from the next room. It made her heart jolt in surprise, and she cracked her head again.
She pushed open the cupboard door and rose as she answered. “Aye.”
Her memories from the night before seemed to be more like a dream than reality. To verify they had happened, she put a hand to her throat.
“The collar is on the floor.”
Eve jumped at his voice. With forced calmness, she confronted him. He had propped himself up with his good arm and the wall behind him. It was obvious he had been waiting for a while.
Her cheeks grew warm. In an attempt to hide her face, she busied herself at the fire. His gaze made her spine tingle. “Must you always watch me?”
He smiled slowly. “I enjoy watching you.”
“I expected you to grow weary of it by now.”
Eve moved through the motions of making breakfast. With her hands busy, she hoped that his presence would be easier to deal with.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“I do not want to tell you yet.”
“Then what should I call you?” She leaned over to lift the pot to the iron arm above the fire. She had found the thing discarded behind the hut. An hour of hard scrubbing to get rid of the rust and dirt caked inside and it appeared to have years of use left in it.
“You can call me Labren.”
He began to move toward the edge of the shelf. Gingerly, he put his legs over the side, healthy one first. His movement caught Eve’s attention and she moved to stop him.
“You cannot get up yet.” She placed herself in his way.
He looked her in the eye. “I am getting up. Either you assist me or I will do it without help.”
“You are not well enough to stand.” She put her hands on her hips and placed her feet in a firmer stance. “You will pull out the stitches and slow the healing.”
Her position lacked the overbearing air she had hoped for. It was difficult to stare down a man when one had to glare up to meet his eye. Regardless, she stood her ground.
“I was strong enough to move you across the floor last night, and a few hours later, I removed your collar.” His eyes filled with a combination of amusement and annoyance. “And I intend to get out of this bed. So, if you refuse to help, will you please move aside?" Although he was amused, he was not asking her this time.
The battle lost, Eve returned to her cooking. Behind her, she heard him land on his feet with a grunt. With the help of the old broom handle, he hobbled outside. As soon as the door closed behind him, she rushed to the window. She glimpsed his broad shoulders as he staggered around the corner of the shack. He had to relieve himself.
Scolding herself for checking on him as if he were a child, she resumed her work. By the time Labren reappeared, the broth was hot and waiting, with some of her dwindling store of bread. Pain and exhaustion pulled at his features as he sat down. The exertion from his short walk increased the pallor of his face.
After filling a bowl with the steaming liquid, she set it in front of him. She moved to return to the fire, but he caught her hand. “Come, sit down. We need to talk.” The remaining seat was a three-legged stool. Sitting so much lower than him would make her feel insignificant. She perched on the sleeping ledge across from him instead. For some reason, she did not want to be vulnerable with this man. His large presence intimidated her.
“I know very little about you.” He swallowed a spoonful of the thin soup.
“Isn’t much to tell.”
The expression Labren shot her over his spoon indicated he did not believe her. “I need the details of what happened to you the last time you saw your master.” He brought the bowl to his mou
th. As he drank, he considered her face over the rim.
She refrained from acknowledging his discreet attention. In a flat tone she related the events as they transpired the evening they had met. “After I left you here, I went to the berry patch. Then, I returned to my owner, Mridle. He was waiting for me. He beat me with his razor strap, and when I didn’t cry, he used his fists. I cried.”
No shame came with her admission of weakness. Not wanting to dwell on her tears or the next part, she hurried on to finish.
“He threatened me and went to bed. I took the supplies we needed and came here.” Labren was silent. Her hands twisted in her lap while she waited for him to speak.
“What did he threaten?” He set his now empty bowl down.
“He said I had been sold to the Tavern owner, Mr. Horben. He keeps girls for the entertainment of his customers. I cannot go there and you needed someone to care for you, so I left.” She raised her eyes, but he avoided hers. “Please do not send me back.” The plea slipped out unbidden. She bit her tongue.
“Do you have any family?”
She frowned. “A brother, but…” She shook her head.
“A brother?”
“I haven’t seen him in years. He is at sea and may even be dead.”
Labren sat in silence for a long time. He kept his face hidden in the shadow, cloaking his thoughts from her as well. When he finally spoke, his voice was so tight with control he almost did not get the whole sentence out. “They will not have you.”
Another long period of silence followed. In a calmer, but still strained, tone he muttered something. “Any other possible way….” He absentmindedly rotated the bowl in his hands. Eve wondered what he planned, however she was too afraid to ask.
She realized the severity of his injuries three days ago. He would have never given in so quickly when whole. Even now, discomfort still creased lines around his mouth and eyes. She needed a chance to go herb gathering. Maybe a simple herbal tea, the one she used for aches, could ease some of his pain.
“Would you be willing to marry me?” His voice broke into her thoughts and before she processed his question, he continued. “It is the only option I can think of that makes you both unquestionably free and under my protection.” Fixing his dark blue eyes on her green ones, he declared. ”The problem is…I follow the Kurios and He teaches marriage for life.”
Fighting past the instinctive fear that he was going be another form of Horben, she tried to consider the consequences of such a step.
Labren reexamined his motives. He studied her. Strands of warm, honey blonde hair escaped from the braid wound around her crown. They curled about her ears. Pleasing to look at and spirited enough to make life interesting, she appealed to him in many ways. However, the primary appeal was her apparent strength. She presented a brave front. She had survived her master, but no matter how strong her spirit, her body was weak and her position vulnerable. She already sacrificed so much for him; he was responsible for her now.
Her previous master was not an option. Also, their time together in this shack unchaperoned compromised her reputation. In marriage he could keep her close and, hopefully, safe until he finished getting himself out of this mess. The new found intention to build a future for her, for them, filled him with hope. He liked the thought of a future with her.
“What happens if I marry you?”
“After I am well enough to travel, we will go south. I have to get to the capital city. Once there about a month I should be free to earn a living. During that time, we can seek a place for you to stay while I am away.”
She stared intensely at her clasped hands.
“What do you expect of me as your wife?”
He frowned.
“Cook our meals. Wash our clothing occasionally. Of course other household chores will need tending.” He glanced her way. “Is that what you are asking?”
“Sort of.” After a moment or two, she gathered the courage to meet his gaze. “Are you going to want children?”
As he processed the fear in Eve’s eyes, visions of his father and brother flashed through his mind. His shoulders hurt from the pressure of an invisible burden. Children were an absolute necessity. How could he tell her when she clearly feared the process? The intensity of the emotion surprised him. It answered his question: did she fear anything?
“Not until you are ready.” They had time. She was too young at this point anyway. “How old are you anyway?”
“Twenty-one.”
His eyebrows rose. She didn’t look it.
“Yes,” she took a deep breath, “I will marry you.” The fear lingered in her eyes.
He responded without thinking. “Why?”
Even though her cheeks flushed a bright red, she met him with a steady gaze. “I want to be free, but I also don’t want to starve.”
Her words reminded him of another woman. That one had said she would rather starve than marry him. Brushing the painful memory aside, Labren dragged his mind back to the present situation. Eve was not Trina and he no longer lived in the King’s palace. He sat at an old table in a falling down hermit’s shack near the Northern Mountains. Across from him was not a dark-haired, cold-faced princess. Instead his gaze fell on Eve, a gentle, warm and caring young woman who had just accepted his proposal.
He gave Eve a half smile. “I will try to make you happy you chose me over those options.”
She opened her mouth to retort, but instead she bit her lip.
“Where should we go to find a seeker who would be willing to perform such a ceremony?” he asked.
“There is a Servant of the Kurios in the next village. He can help us.” Her thoughts were on something else.
“Will he keep your whereabouts a secret?”
“Yes, he is a friend of mine. He tried to buy me from Mridle many times.” After a second or two she continued. “You will probably be well enough to travel on foot in a week.”
“What about on horseback?”
That got her attention and she focused on him. “In a few days, if necessary. Do you have a horse?”
“No, but I could purchase one and a cart.” He smiled to himself at her surprise. “A wagon would be best, don’t you think?”
She resumed her thinking. “How will we buy them? Neither one of us should be seen.”
“I leave that up to you.” Her amazement at his trust crept across her face. “I am sure you know someone who can manage to arrange something.”
She was already plotting; thoughts and plans formed behind her eyes. Shakily rising, he limped toward the shelf where she perched on.
“I need to rest. My short walk wore me out.”
She moved quickly from her seat. She backed away from him as if he represented something dangerous. After lying down, he contemplated her reactions.
Eve returned to her work with an air of preoccupation. He noticed she went out of her way to avoid going near the sleeping ledge, which was quite a challenge in such a small room.
~~~
Chapter II
The mountains rose to the west in cold white-tipped glory. They loomed in the distance beyond the forest to the right of the trail. The golden light of dawn gilded the snowy crests.
The first sunrise of my married life. Eve fought back the disturbing thought and glanced at her husband. Attached for the rest of her existence, they were beginning their relationship as such strangers. She swallowed the panicky tightening in her throat.
She studied her mate. An attractive man, not even his loose shirt disguised the muscle that came from hard work or the pleasing breadth of his shoulders. She reluctantly admitted his thick, brown hair made her fingers itch to smooth it back from his forehead. Even now, when only his profile was visible, she admired many of the features, like his straight nose.
Ever since leaving the Servant of the Kurios the evening before, Labren urged the horses forward through the night. The resulting strain hunched his torso forward and his head down. His lips pulled taut in deter
mination, and extra lines creased the skin around his eyes and mouth.
He promised her they would stop soon after sunrise. Hours had passed since their last heated exchange and his descent into stony silence. Not the way she pictured spending her first night with her new husband. Not that she had ever considered being married. But the hope he would spare himself an extra few hours’ sleep if she fought for it was incentive enough. Now his steady and pointed ignoring made her uneasy. What kind of a man is he when angered? Fear flickered in her heart. She was just going to have to find out for his sake. Give me boldness, Kurios, she prayed.
Although she did not look forward to the awkwardness of their new sleeping arrangements, he was pushing himself too hard for his own good. His limbs needed rest and time to heal. He refused to give them either. Wary of the consequences of sparking his anger further, she debated speaking again.
“Shouldn’t we stop soon?” She drew his attention to the brightening skies above the foot hills to their left. “The grove of trees over there offers a perfect shelter.” She pointed to a place about a mile back from the road. The vegetation grew thick enough to offer cool, dark shade from the midday sun. Also, the foliage would block their camp from the sight of any other travelers. She hoped he had stopped ignoring her. The reins shook in his hands.
“All right.” He turned off the dirt way into the tall grass.
Eve let out the air she had been holding in her lungs and relaxed a little. Thank you. At least her husband was listening again.
Labren guided the horses around the grove to the side away from the main road. The wagon stopped under the shadow of an ancient oak. Eve jumped down. Her knees shook and threatened to give, but she ignored them as she ran around to the other side to help Labren.
He moved slowly. By the time she reached his elbow he had turned in his seat. Groaning at the screaming of his abused legs and arms, he started to gingerly move toward the ground. At first he planned to disregard Eve’s offered shoulder, but his weak leg forced him to use it.
The Crown of Anavrea (The Theodoric Saga) Page 2
