“Where have I heard that before?” He judged her comments carefully. “Yes and no.”
“Yes and no,” Ishar repeated with a frown. “What kind of answer is that?”
Traevyn came around and watched as Ishar undid the straps holding their meal to the saddle. “No, because you are a good fighter and I feel you would be an asset beside me on the battlefield.”
Ishar slung the food satchel over her shoulder. She reached for the drink flasks. “And yes?”
He sighed and grabbed the reins of both horses and followed her to a resting spot beneath a large tree. Traevyn dropped the reins and the horses began to graze. “I have seen the battlefield. I have seen the death of many friends. I say the yes because I do not want the sight of a woman cut down on the battlefield.”
Ishar settled on the grass and spread the food. At his answer she stilled herself for a moment, then glanced up with a frown. “I promised myself I would not let you anger me,” she patted the ground beside her, “but you are pushing the limits of my patience. Sit.”
Traevyn lowered himself across from her. The food lay between them. “You asked that I be honest.”
She passed him a drink flask. “I did. However, women are cut down every day and they are nowhere near a battlefield.”
Traevyn winced as memories of the past flashed forward. “I understand. Women and children die every day and not on a great field of battle.”
Her look was resolved. “Exactly.”
“True,” he agreed with a nod. “But in battle there is a greater chance it will happen.”
“No soldier, if trained well, will fall with ease.” She narrowed her eyes, shook her head and passed him bread and meat as she continued. “So it would stand to reason it would bother you if Ber or any of the other men were lost in battle.”
Traevyn blinked. “Of course.”
“Then I am surprised you wish to see them fight,” the hint of a dark smile played at her lips as she leaned back against the trunk of the tree to eat.
His eyes narrowed. “That is different.”
“No,” she said, trying to laugh and chew at the same time. “It is your attitude that is different. Everything is really still the same. War is war. We are friends and no one wants to see their friends die. That is how I feel. Whether they are women or men, they are all fellow warriors and I do not want to see any of them fall in battle, but I would not have them anywhere but by my side when it comes to a fight.”
Traevyn nodded in agreement. “That feeling I understand and agree with. It is just that I still find myself having to grow used to the thought of you in battle.” He looked perplexed. “Have I not already said you are competent and worthy?”
“True,” Ishar nodded, “but you forget, I have already been in battle with the Tourna and the Lute.” She leaned back and pulled up her black leather overguard and undershirt to reveal her side. A jagged scar ran under her ribs. “A Lute lance.” She leaned over farther and pointed to another scar that ran from her side and disappeared around the back. “A Tourna sword.” She shifted and sat back up. “I have a Tourna ax mark on my calf. I am lucky it did not take off my leg.” Ishar shrugged. “It was a moment of carelessness.” She pulled up the sleeve of her left hand to reveal her bare arm, “And now, a Raanan dagger scar.”
Traevyn felt his insides tighten with each new scar she revealed. The last broke his calm and his look turned dark. “I find nothing amusing about those scars. Any one of them could have killed you.”
Ishar picked up the bread and broke off a piece as she stared thoughtfully into space. “Well, maybe not that Raanan dagger scar. I do not think the warrior was giving it his all—”
Traevyn reached across and grabbed Ishar with a hand around each shoulder. He dragged her close. “You little fool,” he spat out in anger. “This is serious.”
She frowned, anger began to smolder within the edges of her expression. The bread dropped from her fingers. “I know that, Traevyn,” she stated very slowly and quietly. Ishar took her hands and abruptly brushed away his hold. “But I refuse to sit and dwell on it. I had enough time doing that whenever my body needed to heal after each wound. Will you tell me you have never shared about the wounds of battle with other warriors during a time of banter and fellowship?” She stood and turned away. “I thought us strong enough friends for you to understand this.” She breathed deep as if to regain control of herself, then reached out and traced her fingers down the bark of the tree nervously. She sighed, “Perhaps we are not.”
Traevyn hesitated and then stood. He watched her for a moment, the play of gold that fell in a ragged short length, the bold, stiff stance that spoke of hurt as she faced away. He stepped over the food and stepped up behind her. Traevyn lifted his hands to touch her shoulders. He watched her shoulders tense as she felt his presence and his hands hesitated. “I am sorry. I do not want to see you hurt and I know it is wrong to say that to you and not to the others but yes, it would bother me. I do not know what to say but that.” He laid his hands gently on her shoulders.
Ishar did not turn but he felt her relax ever so slightly. “Would you speak such things to Eira?” she asked, perplexed.
He tried to hide his smile. “I have concerns for Eira but no, it is not my place to sit and worry over Eira’s choices. It is Varyks’.
Ishar turned under his hands with a frown. “And what makes it your place to sit and worry about me, Traevyn? I am not to you what Eira is to Varyk.”
Traevyn stared at her, uncertain as to what to say. “Ishar…”
He wondered what expression he wore draped upon his face. Apprehension flickered in Ishar’s eyes and her gaze drew downward toward his hands which were a steady weight upon her shoulders. Her eyes flickered forward as she stared at his chest. He watched as her breath caught and confusion grew in her green eyes.
Traevyn swallowed nervously. “Perhaps there is more between us than you are willing to admit. Perhaps we are more similar to Eira and Varyk than you might think.”
Ishar shook her head as she looked at him and from out of the confusion came recognition. Traevyn knew the moment Ishar understood. Her nose flared, her body went rigid and she jerked her head back as if in denial. The recognition turned to horror. Ishar jerked away from him and took several steps back.
“Ishar,” he began.
She shook her head and held up her hands. “No,” she said in rising bewilderment. “No. Do not speak such.” She took another step back. “I am a warrior of my people. You know what that means.” Her breath was ragged as she looked around seeking purpose. “We should move on. The ride was stupid. We have so much to do, to put in order. I am certain you have other duties to attend to, things that need to be done to prepare—” Her voice trailed off and she knelt and shoved the food into the satchel. Ishar bound to her feet as Traevyn approached, like a deer about to bolt. Her expression was tight, her face drawn. “We should go. I had forgotten. I have obligations back at the holding.”
“Obligations?” Traevyn asked with a narrowed look. “It is not like you to forget things.” He sighed. “Ishar, would you let me speak? Please,” Traevyn asked in exasperation as he reached for her arm.
She jerked her arm back and turned, making her way to Simi. “No,” she said emphatically. “I will return to the holding. You may come with me if you please or stay here. The choice is yours.” The mare snapped her head up when Ishar grabbed the reins and placed both hands on the sides of the saddle. She took a deep breath and glanced back at Traevyn with a set look. “Please forgive me. I just remembered that I promised Eira I would help her with a few things. I must be going,” she turned and mounted in one move.
Traevyn pressed his lips together in anger. He stepped quickly over to the mare’s side and grabbed the bridle. He tried to curb his annoyance and failed, his voice rising in anger. “Now where is the warrior? All I see is a child running away,” he stated furiously, holding tight to control Simi’s nervous prancing. “You talk about standing wit
h the rest of us. Why not try to place your actions with your words? Stand still and talk to me as the warrior you claim to be.”
He knew he had gone too far. A look of murder crept in Ishar’s narrowed eyes. Her anger got the better of her. She reacted and lunged from the saddle with a yell. Simi snorted and cantered away and back toward the gray, who still grazed calmly by the tree.
Traevyn was ready. He went down with the brunt of her weight and rolled backwards, throwing her over. He came to his feet and found her already advancing. Ishar was out for blood. She aimed a kick at the back of his leg and threw a jab at his throat, but she was fighting angry. He blocked the kick, caught the jab and spun her, driving her facedown to the ground with a solid lash out of his boot. Traevyn threw himself down and pinned her quickly with his weight. She struggled for a few minutes but his weight was too much. The moment she stopped resisting, he rolled her over and stared down at her.
Traevyn sighed, his own anger spent. Remorse crept into its place. He had provoked her. Still a part of him could not regret that his words had made her stay, even if it was to fight with him. He winced as her knee tried to find a tender spot. “Fighting angry rarely gets one what one wants, Ishar,” He muttered.
“Let. Me. Up,” she growled. “Now.” She lay rigid and ready to attack the moment he released his hold.
Traevyn smiled grimly. “I think not,” he said comfortably. “I believe I prefer you here, where you are less lethal while we discuss why you ran so quickly from our conversation.”
Her eyes were shuttered. “I do not know what you speak of. I told you. I forgot I promised Eira I would help her right after lunch.”
He did not believe for a moment that was the reason why. “That is interesting,” he said, “especially when one considers that only this morning I heard Eira mention to Jaya she was riding with Varyk after lunch.” Traevyn made this comment calmly.
Ishar stared hard at him and frowned. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, which had to be difficult considering his weight upon her. Her tone was relaxed when she spoke. “Traevyn, I am sorry for my actions.” She opened her eyes and smiled. It looked forced and did not match the emotion swirling in her narrowed eyes. “Fine. You are right. I do not have to meet Eira.”
“And?” He asked.
“And nothing.” Her tone turned irritably. “I told you. I am sorry. Let me up.”
He felt her body relax. Traevyn chuckled and rose, deciding to place trust in her. He was certain there would be a retaliation waiting for him soon, but not today. He held out his hand. Ishar’s eyes still promised revenge but she took it and Traevyn pulled her to her feet. She glowered at him and crossed her arms. “Are you going to tackle me if I try to leave?” she asked defensively.
Traevyn did not say a word. He simply took a step toward her. Ishar’s look turned wary. Traevyn stepped closer. Her brow furrowed and her glance turned uncertain. Her jaw tightened and she stood stiff, staring back defiantly. Traevyn kept his smile to himself and took another pace. Their clothes brushed. He stared into her face. Her eyes flickered uncertainly. He watched the pulse in her throat start to race. Traevyn reached up a hand and ran it down the side of her face. Her look wavered and she almost leaned into it but managed to stop herself.
Instead Ishar reached up and halted his hand with a touch. “Do not.”
“Why?” he asked, soft and low. The realization hit him that Varyk had been right. With her rigid upbringing that forbade seeing men as anything other than fellow warriors, she had no clue how to deal with this situation.
She looked up with anxious, uncertain eyes. “I cannot do this,” she whispered urgently. “Please.”
Her skin felt nice against his fingers. Soft. Traevyn ran a finger along the edge of her tattooed cheek. “I need more than, ‘do not’.”
“Fine,” she spat. “Then how about the code of honor I swore when I took this mark?” She pointed to her cheek. “I believe in my people’s laws. I will not blatantly disobey them. I cannot be a wife or mother while I wear this mark.”
“I have not asked you to be wife and mother. I am just asking you to admit there is something between us,” he said gently.
Ishar continued as if she had not heard his words. “And,” She slapped at his moving hand, “we are about to go to war. I have to keep my mind focused. I have a warband to lead. I do not need to deal with this. I cannot lose my focus.”
“What is so wrong about this?” he countered. “I was not certain at first but at least I am willing to admit that I care for you.” He wondered if he looked as confused as she with those spoken words.
Ishar went stiff at his words, her jaw rigid. “I will not deal with this,” she clenched her teeth. “You would not ask me to admit unless you wished to know of my feelings. My feelings will dictate your actions. To admit is to consider, which is beyond the scope of my life at this moment. I refuse to play this game with you.”
Traevyn’s look darkened. “You think this is a game? What, only a Haaldyn can be honorable?” He let out a ragged breath. “Say what you will but there is something between us.”
“Look, I do not know what I—”
He kissed her. It was not deep or long, barely just a brush of his lips across hers, but it brought the look of fear back into her eyes.
Ishar backed away and when he would have followed, put her hands up. “No.” The word was spoken pleadingly. She shook her head. “Please, Traevyn. Finish what you need to do here. Let me ride back alone. You were going to check on two other watchtowers before the afternoon was over. Do that. I will see you when you return to the holding.” She shook her head again. “I cannot speak of this with you. I refuse.” The look she gave him was beseeching. “Please, Traevyn?” She turned without further words and walked to Simi. The mare snorted as Ishar mounted and turned her in the direction of the holding.
For an undefined reason, he stayed silent and let her mount and ride away. She glanced back several times as if she was afraid he might follow. The hilltop remained hushed and noiseless with his watchful figure. He had spoken all the words she would hear for now, that had been wholly visible to him within in her panicked look. Traevyn fought the desire to follow her and watched until she disappeared over a rise. He closed his eyes and groaned in frustration. Could this conversation have gone any worse? He had never been great at words. Today had proved that point. He remembered Glyndwr’s words and frowned. Suddenly the thought of punching Glyndwr in his pretty face brought Traevyn great pleasure. He groaned, grabbed the gray’s bridle and made his way down the hill and toward the Hadwri. He had a long afternoon ride to mull over Ishar’s reaction to his words.
9
Once out of sight of the beach, Ishar let Simi’s reins loosen and she bent low and rode hard and fast in the direction of the holding. The wind whipped her hair off her face and for a moment she buried her face in Simi’s mane, relaxing with the steady rhythm of the mare’s body moving under her. What happened between her and Traevyn under the old tree overlooking the Hadwri? She groaned. And more importantly, why did she ask herself this question? Her future held only one answer and it did not include Traevyn. Ishar had dedicated her life to fighting for her people as a warrior, especially in this time of coming war. She would not have all the training go to waste for this striving feeling of fledging desire for a man, who until two years ago, had been her enemy. She would not destroy her future on an impulsive urge.
The wind roared in her ears. The scent of horse mixed with her own and Simi’s long black hairs framed the blurred landscape before her half closed eyes. Ishar rose back in the saddle and looked out over the countryside at the rising and falling mounds of waving green before her and the sparse spotting of trees and bushes. She pulled back on the reins and settled the mare into a more relaxed pace. Still the ride back to the holding was over all too quickly, her feelings still in rolling turmoil. Ishar slowed Simi as they came within view of the gray walls and the outer gate that stood open. The sight of men a
long the top wall seemed far more reassuring than it had the day of her arrival.
Ishar made her way through the main gate. Davaris waved her over to where he stood by the men’s barracks.
“Where is Traevyn?” he asked curiously.
Ishar hoped that her voice sounded steady as she replied, “He needed to look over some additional changes to be done at the Hadwri. I decided to ride on back. Traevyn said he would not be too late,” she added with what she hoped was a cheerful tone.
Davaris appeared to accept her words. He nodded. “There is much to be done to ready that defense. I will go myself in a day or two.” He nodded toward the public gathering structure with its shaded overhang. “Would you care for something cool after such a long, and apparently swift, ride back?” Davaris asked as he took in the dried sweat on Simi’s coat.
Ishar shrugged as she dismounted. “Simi likes to run and it is such open land. I am used to a more rocky terrain than this. We are both trying to enjoy it while we are here.”
“You are planning to leave us soon?” Davaris queried with a frown, even as he motioned to Jusa.
Ishar handed the reins to the Britai warrior with a grateful smile and nod. She stepped into pace with the Raanan warrior. “My father will come and talks will begin. Of course, I am certain Haaldyn soldiers will mix with the Lute and Britai forces if all goes well.” She shrugged again. “However, I am not so certain of my path or place in this war. My father may want me back at Ayden or stationed along our coastal waters.”
Davaris’ frown deepened. “But surely he can see that you would make an excellent transitional officer when these new Haaldyn soldiers arrive. You have established a fine rapport with Eira and with us and of course, as the daughter of Ryen, there can be no person of higher stature to replace you.”
Ishar thought back to her earlier conversation with Traevyn and the traitorous feelings within her. “I am just saying I am not certain,” she muttered as she slumped into a seat. “The future will be very chaotic for a while. Nothing is definitive for any of us.”
The Treason Blade (Battle for Alsaar Book 1) Page 16
