“Mara?” She needed to know the truth and trusted the other woman to tell her.
“It is a sword fight between two men, one from each family.” Christina decided that maybe that wasn’t too bad, but Mara wasn’t finished. “Sometimes to the death.”
Stiffening in Jarek’s arms, she slowly pulled away from him. He hesitated as if debating whether or not to release her, but his arms relaxed and allowed her to ease back slightly. But he did not release her totally, keeping his hands clasped at the small of her back. She leaned back and glared up at him. “Nothing for me to be concerned about?”
Jarek’s golden-brown eyes were fierce and a muscle worked in his jaw. “No. We will defeat them and they will go home. They will not have you.”
Christina saw the warrior behind the façade of the man for the first time. He had been gentle and almost playful with her. Certainly a demanding lover, but this was different.
This was a man ready to kill for her, ready to die for her.
She didn’t want to be responsible for anyone’s death. “Maybe,” she broke off and blinked back tears. “Maybe, I should just hide until the tapestry appears and return home.” Better to be alone than to risk the death of either Jarek or Marc.
“No.” It was Mara’s soft voice that cut through the deafening silence. Jarek was tight-lipped, his face set in lines of anger. “It is too late for that. They will blame Jarek and Marc for driving you away and that might lead to an all-out war.” Gently, she tugged Christina from Jarek’s arms. “The challenge must be met and you must be there beside Jarek and Marc throughout it all. Otherwise, who knows how many men will die on both sides.”
Mara quickly ushered her back to the top of the stairs, but Christina refused to look back at Jarek, certain that her words had angered him.
“I will take Christina back to her room until she composes herself. You and your brother may come in half an hour for her.”
She allowed Mara to lead her back to her room. All the while her mind was spinning, trying to come up with a solution to avert the coming violence.
Marc raised his hand to the door and hesitated. “I don’t like the fact that she knows about the challenge.”
Jarek snorted at his brother. “It was inevitable that Mara would tell her.” The older woman was a force to be reckoned with and did what she thought best. He couldn’t imagine anyone telling Mara what to do. He shook his head and sighed. “I don’t like it any better than you do, but she knows and now we must deal with it.”
“They will not have her.”
“Of course not.” Jarek’s firm denial helped calm his brother. Marc nodded and raised his hand again, this time banging on the door.
“Come in.” Christina, who was standing and gazing out the window, turned as both men entered.
Both brothers were dressed in dark brown leather pants, vest and boots. Marc’s hair was pulled back in a braid that hit his waist, and he wore bronze armbands that wrapped around his biceps and wrists. Jarek wore his hair loose, the familiar thin braids framing either side of his face. He was dressed the same as his brother except that he wore a large silver torque, set with precious gems, around his neck. It was a symbol of the House of Garen and his to wear as the eldest.
Christina was still wearing the same blue dress as earlier. Jarek thought that the color brought out the blue of her eyes. Her hair had been brushed and hung loose, falling in a curtain over her back all the way to her behind. His fingers itched to tangle in her tresses and bind her to him. He clenched and relaxed his fists at his sides.
Anger and lust warred within him, but he pushed these feelings aside and drew on all his training as a warrior. Only discipline and clear thinking would save them all from disaster. The Bakra brothers were not opponents to be taken lightly.
Jarek stepped forward, aware that Marc was standing to his left, slightly behind him. They had discussed their strategy for the evening and this was but the first step. Reaching behind his neck, he removed the silver torque from around his neck. “It would honor us if you would wear this token for the evening.”
Christina looked wary as they moved closer, but squared her shoulders and stood her ground. “Certainly.”
Jarek felt pride swell within him as he clasped the ancient symbol of their House around her neck, settling it between the valley of her breasts. He stepped back and admired the way the silver shone against her skin. “Beautiful.”
His brother echoed his word under his breath, but Christina must have heard as she smiled at Marc. “Thank you.” Her hand touched the gemstones gingerly. “Thank you both. I promise I’ll take good care of it.”
“You look lovely this evening.” Marc picked up her hand and drew it to his lips. Tenderly he kissed each knuckle before tucking her hand in the crook of his arm.
“Thank you. Mara found this wonderful dress for me. It’s so different from what I usually wear that I wasn’t sure. It doesn’t even make me look fat.” She slapped her free hand over her mouth, appalled by what she’d just blurted out.
Jarek’s eyebrows drew together as he frowned. “What foolishness is this? You are not fat, you are a woman.” He felt the familiar desire surge through his body and could feel his cock begin to swell, as it always did in her presence. “You are perfect.”
She peeked up at him through her thick eyelashes, a small smile playing at her lips. “Really?”
“Your thighs are perfect to cradle a man as he thrusts his cock deep into your softness. Your breasts are lush enough to pillow his head and give him pleasure. Your ass is a handful and then some and I long to fuck it.” Her face had gotten redder with each statement he’d made. “Yes, Christina. You are perfect. For me.”
Placing a finger under her chin, he tipped it up. He meant to keep the kiss soft and undemanding, but could not resist slipping his tongue inside for a taste. When she leaned into him, Jarek almost lost it. It was the knowledge that the Bakra brothers were waiting below that sobered him quickly.
“Come. It is time for feasting and our guests await.” Taking her hand in his, he tucked it under his arm.
With a brother flanking her protectively on either side, they led her from the room and down the stairs to greet the uninvited guests who were waiting impatiently. Christina carried herself like a queen as she strode down the stairs, a fitting consort for him and Marc. The light caught the silver at her neck as she gracefully walked into the waiting throng of people. The sight of the torque steadied Jarek and fired his determination.
Burying all his emotions beneath he became the lethal warrior he was. She was his and no one, not even the deadly Bakra brothers would take her from him. Even if that meant he had to kill them all.
Chapter Ten
Christina did her best to take another deep breath without being too obvious about it. Her stomach was roiling and if she wasn’t careful, she’d lose her lunch all over the floor. She’d done nothing but worry about the coming evening, and the tension she sensed from Marc and Jarek did little to reassure her.
Her hand automatically went to her chest and the warm piece of silver that sat there. She wrapped her fingers around it and clung to it like a talisman that could ward off all disaster.
She stopped suddenly when the crowd parted and four large men stalked across the room, their movements fluid, unhurried and confident. They had to be the infamous Bakra brothers.
Jarek stepped away from her and she felt bereft without him by her side. Standing straighter, she tried to make her face impassive. There was no way she wanted any of them to know just how unsettled she really was.
One of the men approached Jarek as the other three ranged out behind him. All of them were staring at her, or specifically, her chest. In spite of her resolve to stand firm, she sidled closer to Marc.
The leader of the group smiled, though the gesture didn’t reach his eyes, which were like shards of blue ice. All four brothers were tall and built like brick walls. They all had long blond hair that they kept tied at their na
pe, except for the leader. He wore his hair just like Jarek did with two skinny braids on either side of his face while the rest of his hair hung free. She’d just thought it was a preference, but it occurred to her that it might signify who was the eldest of the brothers.
Thankfully, the leader turned his attention to Jarek. “We have come to challenge the House of Garen for the right of possession of the woman.”
Jarek folded his arms across his chest, his features impassive. “That is no way to greet your host, Zaren.” His voice was mild, but there was no mistaking the rebuke.
A real smile tugged at the corners of Zaren’s mouth. “Forgive my rudeness.” He gave a short bow. “Greetings from the House of Bakra. We have come to attend the feast and challenge the House of Garen for the right of possession of the woman.” He arched his eyebrow. “Better?”
“Much.” Jarek held out his arm and Zaren clasped it at the forearm in a warrior’s greeting. “I see you remember some of the manners that your mother taught you.”
“She despairs of me still, but she hopes for a daughter-in-law.”
“It is good for her to have hopes, but you will not find her one here.” Jarek’s tone continued to be mild as Christina watched the verbal byplay between the men.
She felt Marc nudging her forward and resisted. This time he gave her a little push and she jerked forward, almost hitting Jarek in the back. She pulled her arm away from Marc and scowled at him.
“It seems the woman might not be happy here.” Zaren shifted his stance and all his brothers followed suit. All of them were poised and ready to fight.
Christina had had more than enough of this male posturing. “This woman has a name.” All six pairs of male eyes swung her way as she propped her hands on her hips. “It’s Christina Beaumont and I’m very happy where I am. Thank you for asking.”
She scooted around Jarek before he knew what was happening and stood in front of Zaren. Tilting her head, she looked up at him. Christina was beginning to think she was in the land of giants. Not one of these guys was under six and a half feet. “Pleased to meet you.” She stuck out her hand and waited.
His hand engulfed hers, practically cradling it instead of shaking it. “The pleasure is all mine.” His voice was a sexy rumble that startled her. She quickly removed her hand from his, ignoring his low laugh.
The three men behind him looked similar enough to pass for triplets. Rippling muscles in tight pants and open vests. Didn’t any of these guys ever get cold? “I assume you’re the rest of the Bakra brothers since no one else has seen fit to introduce us.”
One of them placed his hand over his mouth and coughed, trying to cover his laughter. His brother thumped him on the back. The third one just shook his head and stepped forward. “I am Bador and these are my brothers, Garrik and Jarmon. We have come to invite you to our home.”
Christina nodded at Bador and Garrik, but frowned at Jarmon, who was still trying to swallow back his mirth. “Thank you for the invitation, but I’m fine here. I might not be staying.”
Everyone froze and the air in the room became fraught with tension. She certainly knew how to kill a party. She felt Jarek’s hands on her shoulders as he pulled her back against his chest. She didn’t question how she knew it was Jarek, she just did.
“We will discuss that later.” His tone brooked no disobedience and right now she didn’t want to challenge him on it.
Her entire body felt shaky and all she really wanted to do was sit down somewhere, preferably somewhere far away from the Bakra brothers. But that wasn’t going to happen. Jarek led her to a table at the head of the room and seated her before sitting next to her. Marc sat next to Jarek. The Bakra brother sat on her other side with Zaren immediately to her right. This was not going to be fun.
As if their sitting had been a signal, everyone else found their places and servers came out from the kitchen with platters laden down with food. No one spoke as food was served and goblets were filled with ale and cider. The crowd was holding its breath as one, waiting to see how the events would unfold.
“Eat, Christina.” While she’d been busy watching the people, Jarek had filled her place with some choice bits of meat, some vegetables and bread.
She leaned closer to him and he bent his head. “I’m too nervous to eat.”
“Would it help if this matter were settled once and for all?” His finger tenderly traced her cheek as she nodded. “Very well.”
He pushed back his chair and stood. Everyone waited silently. “The House of Bakra has challenged for the right to Christina Beaumont, who belongs to the House of Garen.” The crowd hissed and booed. Jarek raised his hands and silence reigned. “It is their right to do so under law.”
Every ounce of her blood raced out of her head and she felt lightheaded. She hadn’t realized that he meant to challenge right this very minute. For a moment, she wished she’d never come here, never known either Jarek or Marc. She already cared for them both way too much and couldn’t bear the thought of them being hurt or perhaps killed because of her.
“Christina.” Jarek placed his hand on her head and gently caressed her hair. “The beautiful Christina belongs to the House of Garen.”
Zaren pushed back his own chair and stood. Christina scooted closer to Jarek, half afraid of what he might do. Jarek pulled a knife from a sheath at his side and sent it flying towards the table. It landed in front of Zaren with a loud thunk and vibrated as it rocked back and forth, the blade embedded in the wooden table.
Zaren grabbed the hilt and yanked it free. Christina gasped as he flipped it over in one deft move and handed it back to Jarek hilt first. Jarek accepted it and sheathed the knife. “Challenge has been issued and accepted.”
“No.” Her words were little more than a whisper against the cheering of the crowd. Bador, Garrik and Jarmon stood beside their brother and Marc rose to stand by Jarek.
Her throat felt tight and she could barely breathe. They were going to fight. Now. Over her. It was madness.
She grabbed Jarek’s arm, using it to pull herself to her feet. Zaren was already moving away from the table, but she reached out and touched his arm. He whirled on her quickly, his knife drawn.
Her arm automatically came up to protect herself against the coming blow, but it never came. Slowly, she lowered her arm. Zaren was watching her, his face suffused with fury. Christina swallowed against the dryness in her throat, but she would not stop now.
“I won’t go with you even if you win.”
Zaren cupped her face in his hand and rubbed his thumb over her lip. “It no longer matters what you want. You have sealed your own fate with your spirit and beauty.” Some of the anger left him. “I would never hurt you, but you would come to love us. You are a perfect bride for our House. A prize worth dying for.”
Before she knew what was happening, he’d leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Her mouth opened on a startled gasp and his tongue slipped inside. While his kiss was skillful and she could feel her body responding, he left her heart cold. He was not Jarek or Marc. Laying both her hands on his chest, she started to push him away.
Before she had the chance, she was ripped from his grasp and thrust aside. She swayed on her feet but managed to stay upright.
“Challenge is now. Who is your second?”
“I am.” Bador came to stand next to his brother.
Jarek jerked his head towards the door. “The courtyard in five minutes.”
The Bakra brothers stalked towards the door, calling for their weapons as they went. Jarek accepted his sword from his captain of the guards and strapped it on. Christina looked to Marc, hoping to find a cooler head in that corner, but he already had his sword strapped on. Challenge was inevitable.
Her head was spinning. This was all happening so fast. One minute they were feasting and now they were ready to fight. She didn’t belong in this world. She didn’t understand it at all.
“There is no choice, Christina. This has to be settled under the l
aw. Once it is done, you are safe.”
“I am safe if I go home.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “And if you lose?”
A look of pain flashed in Jarek’s eyes before he turned and walked away. Christina willed him to look back, but he kept going forward. She bit her lip to keep from calling to him. She had every right to ask. It was her life they were playing with.
She jumped when Marc wrapped his arm around her from behind and gave her a quick hug. “We will not lose.” Then he too was striding across the stone floor and disappearing through the door.
Christina stood frozen to the spot as the crowd spilled out the door behind the men. They were cheering and chattering as if they were all looking forward to the spectacle.
“You have to go and watch them.” Mara’s strong, bony hand reached out to steady her.
“It’s madness.” She searched Mara’s face for any ounce of understanding.
“Perhaps to you, but it is our way.”
“But not mine.”
“Is it not?” Mara’s gaze was fastened on Christina’s chest.
Christina felt the edges of the torque that she had clutched in her hand. The edges dug into her flesh so hard that they drew several small beads of blood.
“Regardless, those men are willing to fight and die for you. You at least owe them the courtesy of watching.” Mara’s harsh words hit Christina like a slap in the face just as the first clash of swords rang out from the yard.
Her leather boots slapped against the floor as she raced towards the entryway. She bolted out through the door and shoved her way through the crowd. At first they grumbled and blocked her path, but when they realized who she was they parted and let her through to the front.
Zaren swung at Jarek and he barely ducked in time to keep his head attached to his body. Christina slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out and distracting Jarek. The other one she kept wrapped tight around the torque.
Marc and Bador both stood watch with their swords drawn to make sure that no one cheated. This was a fight between the champions of each House.
Christina's Tapestry Page 8
