Lion’s Bride

Chapter Five

THE EMBERS OF the conflagration still glowed dimly in the darkness.

The odor of smoke and death was everywhere as Vaden moved slowly through the ruins.

When he’d seen that malevolent glow, he’d not been able to believe it. He had to come see for himself.

“You madman,” he murmured. “Is it worth this?”

The Grand Master thought killing Ware was worth destroying half the world. Vaden’s father no doubt agreed with him.

He glanced at the distant castle, its torches burning bright. Dundragon no longer seemed quite so impregnable as it had these two years past.

The net was drawing tighter.

“How is the boy?” Kadar whispered when Thea opened the door later that evening.

“Better. He ate a bowl of broth an hour ago. He’s back asleep again.”

“I must speak to you before I go. Can you leave him?”

She nodded, then came out into the hall and quietly closed the door. “I think he’s no longer in danger. I just want to be here when he wakes.”

“Good. Then you can bid me a fitting good-bye. A few tears, a graceful wave of your hand as I ride through the gates.” He took her arm and urged her down the hall. “After all, a man deserves it when he sets out on a journey.”

“You deserve more than that. Is it safe for you to set out tonight?”

He nodded. “Ware rode out earlier today, and there’s no sign of any danger.”

“He did? I didn’t think he would stir from the castle today. I left him in the Great Hall with a bottle of wine.”

“Wine brings forgetfulness, but Ware doesn’t forget what it is his duty to remember,” he said as they started down the stairs. “He wouldn’t let me ride into danger.”

“How do you go to Constantinople?”

“I ride to Acre and then go by ship.”

“How long will it take to bring her here?”

“Two or three months. It would be sooner, but it may take me a while to pluck her away from your loving father.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I think I will be a wealthy merchant from Cairo who wishes to start his own silk-and-embroidery house. But not too wealthy. I cannot afford any of his most experienced embroiderers. I will choose one of the younger women who will be adequate now and better later. I will ask to tour the House of Nicholas, become struck with the skill of your Selene, and accept no other. Is that not a good plan?”

It was a good plan. “Very clever.”

“Because I am clever. But even brilliant men must have knowledge to bring their plans to fruition. I cannot ask for your sister by name. What does she look like? Is she fair like you?”

She shook her head. “She has dark-red hair and green eyes.” She frowned. “And she won’t like being bought. She’ll want to stay at the House of Nicholas where I can find her.”

“Do not worry. I can handle one small child.”

“When you were ten, were you a child?”

He shook his head.

“Neither is Selene.”

He nodded. “I understand. I am not to be over confident.”

“Impossible,” Ware said dryly from the door. “You think you can move the world.”

“It’s not true,” Kadar responded. “But sometimes it’s possible to persuade others to do it for you.” He moved toward Ware. “Like you, my friend. I have high hopes for you.”

“Save your hopes for yourself.” He opened the door and preceded them down the stairs toward Kadar’s horse. “You’ve hidden the pouch?”

Kadar nodded. “No one will know I’m a wealthy merchant until I reach Constantinople. Until then I’m only a pilgrim returning from the Holy Land.” He mounted and smiled down at Ware. “Don’t worry, I’m in no danger.”

“I’m not worried.” He gazed at Kadar a moment and then said gruffly, “Go with God.”

“Of course. God will not have it any other way. He has excellent taste in traveling companions.” Kadar looked at Thea. “Now you must bid me my proper farewell. Will you lead my horse to the gates as if I were a great knight going to fight a dragon?”

“If you wish,” she said, startled. She grasped the reins and moved across the courtyard.

“I do you a service,” Kadar said in a low voice.

“A great service.”

“I ask a service in return.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. His expression was uncharacteristically solemn. “Anything. What service?”

“I leave a possession that must be cared for.”

“Your falcons? If you will tell me how to—”

“Not my falcons. The servants know how to care for them.” He nodded toward Ware. “He won’t let them care for him.”

She stiffened. “I’ve noticed he makes his demands known. You need not worry about Lord Ware.”

“I do worry. He’s my responsibility.” He shook his head. “And this is a bad time for me to leave. He grieves and has need of me.”

He grieves.

She had a sudden memory of Ware’s agonized expression. Perhaps he did need Kadar but he would allow no one else close enough to comfort him. “I cannot help him. He wouldn’t let me.”

“You must care for my possession.” Kadar’s tone was gentle but firm. “Promise me. So that my mind is free to attend my task.”

She gazed at him in exasperation. “The only care he wants is a woman for his bed, and he has no problem asking for that.”

“But what he wants is not always what he needs. He’s the loneliest man I’ve ever known. He needs company to ward off that loneliness. He will not accept it readily, but you must battle him until he accepts what is good for him.”

She glanced beyond him to Ware, who was standing in the courtyard. She was to do battle with this formidable titan who had known nothing but wars all his life? “I cannot do it.”

“You like children. Pretend he is a child like Haroun or Selene whom you must nurture and protect.”

Her gaze swung back to Kadar in astonishment.

He burst out laughing. “Ah, your face. But we are all children, Thea.”

“Not him,” she said flatly.

“You will see.” He waved his hand for the guard to lower the drawbridge. “You will care for my possession and I will care for yours. Pact?”

He was going to journey a long distance and bring her Selene. Who knew what dangers he might encounter? “I will try.”

“But you’re a kind and determined woman, and to try is to succeed. I feel better already.”

“I’m not kind. I’m very selfish and I’ve no desire to do this.”

“You try to be selfish because you’re afraid of letting anyone too near. To guard themselves is the way of people whose instinct is to nurture and protect.” He gave her a brilliant smile and lifted his hand in farewell. The next moment he was galloping over the drawbridge.

“Safe journey,” she called.

He waved again as he reached the other side of the moat. He was lost to view as the guards lifted the drawbridge.

She slowly turned and moved across the courtyard. Ware was gone. He had vanished within the castle. Even with his closest friend he would not allow himself sentiment.

And Kadar expected her to soothe and comfort this man?

Impossible.

“Go to my chamber and sleep there. Tasza and I will care for the boy.” The order came from Jasmine, who had suddenly appeared at her side as she sat next to Haroun’s bed. “I think it best I take him to my room tomorrow. He’ll be better with me. He’s not accustomed to rich surroundings and it will make him uneasy.”

Thea was too tired to argue. “We’ll talk about it later.” She rose to her feet and arched her back to rid it of stiffness. “I don’t want him to think I’m abandoning him.”

“He will not think that of you,” Jasmine said gruffly. “Haroun is not a fool.”

From Jasmine that came close to praise, Thea thought wearily. “Wake me if I’m needed.”

“You won’t be needed. I will have Tasza. Lord Ware doesn’t want her tonight.” Jasmine’s tone was almost indifferent.

“You don’t seem upset.”

“Lord Ware called the servants into the Great Hall tonight and told us all that our home was here now. We don’t have to fear being sent away, and he will keep us safe behind these walls.”

I will start with you.

Apparently Ware had moved quickly to see that the other inhabitants of Dundragon were also safe from the Knights Templar. A flicker of uneasiness rippled through her, and then she impatiently dismissed it. For once Ware was demonstrating a kindness and protectiveness that should be applauded, not met with distrust.

“I’m happy for you.”

“It feels…strange,” Jasmine said. “All our lives Tasza and I have had to fight every day to make our way. It will seem odd not to have to worry about tomorrow.” She shrugged. “But I’m sure we will become accustomed to it.”

“Good night.” Thea softly closed the door behind her, then moved through the hall and down the stairs. Everything had changed. It seemed terrible that because of the horrible tragedy at Jedha, Thea was to get what she wanted most in the world and Jasmine and Tasza were to be safe at last. It was as if God had tried to balance the scales in some manner.

She would not feel guilty. Surely she couldn’t be blamed for wanting Selene to be happy and free. She would not let the massacre at Jedha poison her joy that Selene would be with her soon. She would do all she could for the survivors of Jedha, but she could not make the—

Ware was still in the Great Hall.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He was sitting in the high-backed chair before the fire, his legs sprawled in front of him, gazing into the flames.

He’s the loneliest man I’ve ever known, Kadar had said.

If he was lonely, she could not help it. She was not Kadar, who could amuse and venture where others feared to tread.

She turned toward the door that led to the scullery and servants’ quarters.

You will care for my possession and I will care for yours.

But not tonight, when she was so tired she could barely think. Tomorrow would do as well.

He grieves.

By what sorcery had Kadar planted those words in her mind? she thought with exasperation. She would pay no attention to—

“By all the saints,” she muttered as she marched into the Great Hall to stand before Ware. “Go to bed.”

He slowly lifted his head. “What?”

“You heard me. You look foolish sitting here brooding. Go to your bed and go to sleep.”

“Foolish,” he repeated, glowering at her.

“Foolish and stubborn and without sense.”

“Then leave my presence so that you don’t have to look at me.”

“Do you think I don’t want to do that? Kadar won’t let me. He says I must take care of you.”

“Oh, my God.”

“But I’m too tired to be bothered with this tonight, so go to your bed and let me worry about it tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry to inconvenience you,” he said silkily. “But I appreciate the tender thought.”

“You don’t want tenderness, and it is an inconvenience. I don’t even know how to go about this.”

“Then don’t go about it. I don’t need either your care or your concern.”

“That’s what I told Kadar. He wouldn’t listen.”

“He seldom does, one must just ignore him.”

“I can’t ignore him. He’s doing me a great service and must be repaid.”

“Then repay him some other way. I’ll not have another clucking hen at my heels.” He poured more wine into his goblet. “Leave me.”

“Are you drunk yet?”

“No.” He lifted the goblet. “But soon.”

“Good, then maybe you’ll fall asleep and I can have the servants take you to your bed.” She sat down on the hearth and leaned back against the stones. “I’ll wait.”

He scowled. “I don’t want you to wait. Leave me.”

“Drink your wine. These stones are hard.”

He crashed the goblet down on the table. “I’ll drink when I please.”

“I said the wrong thing.” She yawned. “I should have realized you’d be contrary. All right, don’t drink your wine.”

He picked up the goblet and then stopped, frowning as he realized the dilemma. “Christ, now what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t care. Whatever you like.”

He smiled sensually. “Then take off your gown and come here.”

She was too weary to feel anything but impatience. “Why? The wine will do as well as a woman for your needs now. Besides, that’s not what Kadar wanted of me.”

His smile vanished. “I’m growing bored hearing what Kadar wanted.”

“Then drink your wine and go to sleep.”

He muttered an obscenity and then was silent. The only sound in the Great Hall was the crackle of the logs in the fireplace.

“What did he want of you?” Ware growled.

“I’m not sure. He was a little vague,” she said drowsily. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Another silence.

“Go to bed,” he said harshly. “You’re going to fall asleep any minute and tumble into that fire.”

She shook her head.

“I don’t need Kadar and I don’t need you.”

“I know.”

“Then leave me.”

She shook her head. She wished he would be quiet. Talking was too much effort. “Drink your wine.”

“I will not drink my wine.”

“Very well.” Her lids were so heavy, she could barely keep them open. “Whatever you…”

“Christ.”

He was picking her up, carrying her.

Climbing the stairs.

No, that was wrong….

“Where are you going?”

“I’m taking you to your bed, where you belong.”

“Haroun is in my bed. I’m sleeping in Jasmine’s bed.”

He stopped at the top of the stairs and then was moving down the corridor. “I’m not carrying you down again. You’ve been bother enough tonight. You can have my bed. I won’t be using it.”

Something soft beneath her…

He was turning away and striding toward the door.

That was wrong, too…. She couldn’t allow him to go.

“No.” She struggled to an upright position and swung her legs to the floor. “You shouldn’t go back to the hall. Stay here….” She pulled herself up by the bedpost. “I’ll go to Jasmine’s—”

He whirled on her. “By the saints, why won’t you give up?”

She was too weary to argue. She could only shake her head.

His hands clenched into fists at his side as he glared at her. Was he going to strike her? She almost hoped he would. Then she could go to sleep without breaking her vow to Kadar. He was striding toward her, his blue eyes glittering. He was going to strike her.

He pushed her down on the bed.

She looked up at him, startled, as he threw himself into the cushioned chair next to the bed. “Go to sleep,” he growled. “I’ll stay.”

“You’ll try to sleep?”

“I said I’d stay. I didn’t say I’d sleep.”

It was victory enough. Kadar couldn’t expect more from her tonight. “You might as well.” She turned over on her side and closed her eyes. “There’s nothing else to do….”

There’s nothing else to do.

Ware rested his head on the back of the chair. He could think of any number of things to do at the moment, and none of them concerned sleeping. He hadn’t thought he wanted a woman until he saw her lying in his bed.

Now there was no doubt at all what he wanted to do.

So why wasn’t he inside her? Why was he sitting there watching her sleep like one of those foolish gallants in a troubadour’s tale? She had angered him, forced him to her will, and he was still not reaching out to take what he wanted.

His gaze slowly traveled over her. She was curled up like an exhausted child, but she was no child. She was old enough to take a man and bear a child. She would have fine sons; she would give them her strength and courage and protect them as she had Haroun.

The thought brought a violent surge of heat to his loins. Christ, what was happening to him? Now he was not only lusting after the woman, but her children. He wanted those sons to be his, wanted to see her belly swell with his seed and her breasts grow large with milk.

His hands clenched on the arms of the chair. Not for him. Never for him. If he conceived a child, he would probably never live to see it born.

Yet he suddenly wanted that child with an overwhelming passion. He didn’t want to let them banish every trace of him from the earth. Something should live on, someone…

Oh, yes, he thought with self-disgust, get the woman with child and let the Grand Master murder them both as he had the villagers.

Or hold them both hostage to make sure of Ware’s death.

Why was he even considering the possibility? He had known this danger for years and had been careful to draw out of the women he used to slake himself. That it mattered so much now was unreasonable.

The destruction of the village must be the source of this sense of urgency. It could not be the woman. He admired her courage and endurance, but she was far too independent and bold. Never had a woman defied and ordered him about. Yet if she had not been bold, could she have survived? Gentleness would not have served her on that long trek to Damascus. Meekness would have made her stay in that silken prison in Constantinople.

He could not condemn her for surviving and wishing to live in freedom. He had been driven by that same wish when he’d left Scotland those many years ago.

But he could condemn her for being a constant irritant since he had brought her to Dundragon.

No, in fairness, she had tried to avoid him. It was his own lust that had been at fault. Damnation, was there no way to escape guilt? he thought wearily. Every way he turned, he bore responsibility for some new sin. He should have gone back to the Great Hall and the wine that blurred the guilt and made life a little more bearable.

She murmured something incomprehensible and turned over on her side. She was restless. It was turning cool….

He reached down and carefully drew over her the wool blanket at the bottom of the bed.

A chill rippled through him; the motion had been done without thought, purely instinctive.

He could not let it be the woman.

When Thea opened her eyes, it was after dawn. One moment she was asleep and the next fully awake as if she had been called.

He was still sitting in the chair beside the bed, his head tilted back. He appeared…different in sleep. Not helpless; even in slumber the tension and wariness were still present. She studied him curiously as she never could when he was awake. She had not noticed before what long black lashes he had. When his eyes were open, one paid heed only to that searing blue. His mouth was well shaped and actually quite beautiful….

“Stop looking at me.”

Her gaze flew up to meet that glittering blue glance.

“I meant no—I was half-asleep.” Why was she stammering? She had done nothing wrong. She sat up and swung her feet to the floor. “It’s dawn. I must go to Haroun. You should go to your bed. You cannot be comfortable there.”

He grimaced. “Comfortable? I can’t move, and I’m sure this crick in my neck will never go away.”

She started to get up. “Then lie down as I told you and all will be—”

“Stay where you are,” he snapped.

She froze and then deliberately got to her feet. “I cannot help that you’ve drunk too deep and have a bad head. I’ll not be ordered about.”

“Because you’re a free woman,” he said mockingly. “There is no such thing. A woman is only as free as her husband permits her to be.”

“But I have no husband. Nor will I ever.” She added harshly, “Do you think I’d risk joining myself to a man? No man, no country, not even the Church gives fairness to women. We are nothing to any of you. My mother told me of a council once held at Nantes where great nobles and churchmen gathered to decide whether women were human or beasts. I’m convinced the only reason they decided we were human was to avoid being put to death for the crime of bestiality.”

“You could be right. It would certainly give me pause.” He went back to the original subject. “You have such a hatred for slavery?”

“There’s no use talking to you. You cannot understand.”

“Then make me understand.”

She frowned in puzzlement. “Why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry. I’m just telling you that freedom is not such a prize. Some prisons can be more comfortable and pleasant than the world beyond them. All captivities aren’t as cruel as the one you suffered at the House of Nicholas.” He paused. “Did he beat you?”

“When I was a child. Later I learned…” She shrugged. “What do you wish me to say? I had ample to eat, a clean place to sleep. When I showed promise, Nicholas had me taught languages and numbers so that I could speak knowledgeably with the merchants who came to buy the silk. There was even a walled garden outside the women’s quarters where we were permitted to go in the evening after the light failed. My mother said we were more fortunate than many.” She folded her arms across her chest. “But as years went by, I began to hate it more and more. I could not breathe . I watched Selene bent over her loom from dawn to dusk, and I wanted to pick her up and carry her away to where there was sunlight and the smell of flowers and—” She broke off and drew a shaky breath. “It wasn’t fair. No one should be allowed to own another person.”

“So it was for Selene you ran away?”

“No, I could have waited until conditions were better, if I had only Selene to consider.” She met his gaze. “A prince from Florence came to see Nicholas to buy some bolts of silk for his wife. He had a fondness for fair-haired women and decided he would like to buy me as well.”

“Nicholas sold you?”

“Why not? The prince offered a great sum for me. It’s true my skill made me valuable, but if my body is worth more…” She smiled bitterly. “But Nicholas is a wily trader. The negotiations went on for days. I didn’t wait for them to be completed.”

“Bastard.”

“He never considered himself to be unkind. We were property. Weren’t we fed and watered? Disciplined only when we failed in our duty to him? I’m sure he was outraged when I ran away.”

“How did you get passage on the caravan?”

“Balzar, the leader of the caravan, came often to the House of Nicholas. For years I’d been working in secret on a silk robe with embroidery fit for an emperor. I offered to trade it to him in exchange for food, water, and a place in the caravan.”

He lifted his brows. “A silk robe for sheltering a runaway slave?”

“A robe fit for an emperor,” she repeated. “Balzar was very vain. He had to have it. Besides, there was little shelter involved. If I’d been discovered, he would merely have disclaimed knowing who I was.”

“You stole the silk for the robe?”

“I don’t steal,” she flared. “I planted the trees that nurtured those silkworms, and the embroidery was my design and my work. Nicholas’s wealth grew tenfold when he started to display my designs. Did I not deserve something? Do you know how hard it was to find the time to do such an intricate design? Every morning I crept out in the garden in half darkness when I could barely see and then later had to rip half the stitches because I’d made mistakes. It took me almost two years to—”

“I wasn’t condemning you,” he interrupted. “I only asked.” He smiled crookedly. “What’s a length of silk when all Christendom knows I stole a much greater treasure?”

“Don’t be absurd.” She was still annoyed with him. “Why do you say things like that? I told you that it was clear you’re too blunt to indulge in thievery.”

“Indeed? Then how do you account for all the riches you see in the castle?”

“I don’t have to account for them. It doesn’t interest me.” She shrugged. “Perhaps you are a thief. Kadar says you ask great fees for protecting caravans and fighting battles. Perhaps that could be considered thievery.”

His lips twitched. “Certainly the lords who hire me consider it so.”

He had almost smiled, she realized. She had a sudden urge to see if she could make him do it again. “No, I told Kadar the reason you were cast out of the order was your lustfulness. You broke the law of abstinence.”

He did smile and looked years younger. “It’s true I found that restriction a great burden.”

She nodded. “I thought as much.”

His smile faded. “And what do you know of lust? Kadar tells me you escaped the raping at the caravan.”

“I saw coupling at the House of Nicholas. When the merchant was of importance, Nicholas would sometimes invite him to the women’s quarters and let him choose one of the women to pleasure him.”

“Your mother?”

“Once.”

“And you watched it?”

“No, I closed my eyes. She told me it wouldn’t hurt her but that I should not watch.” She did not want to think back on that night. She had seen nothing, but she had heard the soft laughter of the men, the grunts, the labored breathing, and then later, when her mother had come back to her, the sound of smothered sobs. “She lied. He did hurt her. Perhaps not her body, but he hurt her.” Her voice shook with remembered rage. “That is what it is to be a slave. To have no choice, to know that mind and body and skill are not your own. Do not speak to me of a pleasant captivity. There is none.”

“Very well. We won’t discuss it.”

But something unspoken lingered in the room, and again she felt uneasy. She stood up. “I must go to Haroun.”

He let her go this time, watching her as she crossed the room. “You say you grew new mulberry trees for Nicholas? How?”

She stopped, puzzled at the change of subject. “Like any other tree. He bought young trees from a trader and planted them in the grove. I tended them and made sure the roots were strong.”

“Is that what you plan on doing in Damascus?”

“Yes, or trade for them.”

“Another robe for an emperor?”

“You wouldn’t scoff if you’d seen it.”

He met her gaze. “I’m not scoffing. I believe you.”

She felt a rush of glowing warmth. “You do?”

“I believe you can do anything you set out to do.”

He meant it, she realized. “I promise that it won’t compare with the banner I shall make for you,” she said eagerly. “Emperors will envy you. You’ll be able to pass it on with pride to your sons and they will give it to their sons. It will be—” She broke off as she saw his expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He moved from the chair and lay down on the bed. “I’m more weary than I thought, and all this talk of sons bores me. I think I’ll take a nap. Run along to Haroun.”

He had not been bored. It was pain she had seen in his face. What had she said to hurt him? “I didn’t mean—” How could she tell the dratted man she was sorry for a hurt he would not admit existed? She would not waste her time.

“Meet me in the courtyard at noon,” he said without opening his eyes.

“Why?”

“Because I wish it. Didn’t Kadar tell you to bear me company?”

“Yes.”

“Then bear me company in the courtyard this noon.”

“But I don’t—” He had turned over on his side, ignoring her. She opened the door. “If it pleases me.”

“I’m sure it will please you to keep your promise.”

She sighed with exasperation as she shut the door. She did not want to meet with him again so soon. It was too wearing on the emotions. When Kadar had asked her this service, she had known that it would be difficult, but she had not thought she would feel this vulnerable. It would be easier if she just had to confront surliness and rejection. She couldn’t understand his sudden interest in her past when he had told her before that he did not care about the details of her life. Now he was asking too many questions, probing too deeply. It disturbed her. Her instinct was to avoid him until her composure returned.

But she had promised Kadar.

Well, then she would have to make sure Ware had no opportunity to continue that intimacy. He could not ask a multitude of questions if others were present. She would just make certain she was never alone with him.

She had not needed to worry about being alone with Ware, Thea thought dazedly, as she saw the column of mounted soldiers fully armored and filling the courtyard. There was even a wagon being readied for departure at the rear.

“Where have you been?” Ware frowned down at her as he brought his horse closer to the steps. “I told you noon.”

“It’s only a little after.” She was too astonished to take offense at his brusqueness. “Where are you going?”

“I didn’t bring you back enough of those damned mulberry leaves,” he growled. “You’ll need more now that you’re staying.”

He was right. It would be at least two months before Kadar came back with Selene, and she had only another three-week supply. “You’re taking all these men? But you said you wouldn’t risk—”

“Things are different now.” He bent down and extended his arms. “Come. I want to get back before dark.”

“I’m to go also?”

“Why else would I tell you to meet me?”

“You wouldn’t take me before.”

“I told you, things are different now. I may need you.”

Then, of course, she must go. She took a step closer and he swung her up before him. “But you know what the tree looks like now.”

He didn’t answer as he waved the column forward.

Riding with him today was different from that night he had brought her to Dundragon. The metal of armor pressing against her back was already hot from the sun, and yet she was oddly comfortable. “Are we bringing the wagon to carry the leaves?”

“Yes.”

“We won’t need it. A few baskets will be all that’s necessary.”

“I’m taking no chances.”

“But it’s a waste of—”

“Are you going to chatter all afternoon?”

“Not if you refuse to listen to good sense. Why should I care if you look foolish before your men?” She abandoned the conversation and leaned back against him. She didn’t want to talk anyway. The scent of cypress and palm were drifting to her, and the sun on her face brought its own contentment.

An hour later they drew up on the slope leading to the thatch of mulberry trees. It was too soon, she thought languidly.

Ware dismounted and plucked her from the saddle. His bearing was tense as his gaze raked the grove and then the foothills surrounding them.

“What is it?” she asked. “I saw no one. Is there someone here?”

He didn’t answer for an instant, and then she saw him relax. “No, there’s no one here.” He turned away and barked orders to his soldiers, dividing his forces so that half were to fetch the leaves while the others were to remain on guard. She drifted down the slope and into the grove, gazing with pleasure around her. The trees were strong, nurtured by a kinder sun than in Constantinople. They would give shade and sustenance for many years to—”

She whirled as a branch crashed to the ground. Abdul’s sword cleaved through the air and bit into another branch.

“No!” She ran toward him. “Stop it.”

He stared at her, startled.

“Stand back.” Ware was striding toward her. “He’s only getting your leaves.” He gestured to the soldiers who were moving with swords drawn on the trees. “For God’s sake, that’s what you want.”

“You must pick the leaves and leave the branches. I won’t have the trees destroyed.”

“It will take twice as long,” Abdul said. “And we have no ladders for climbing.”

“Is that how you got my leaves?” Thea asked Ware.

“Did you think I blew on them and they fell to the earth?” Ware asked.

“I suppose it’s my fault. I should have told you to be careful of the trees.” She turned back to Abdul. “But you cannot cut these branches.”

Abdul looked at Ware.

“I’ll not have my soldiers take off their armor to climb those trees,” Ware said grimly.

“Then I’ll pick the leaves myself,” Thea said. “It will take a little longer, but I told you we don’t need a wagonload of leaves.”

“I don’t want it to take longer.” He stared at her determined expression and then whirled away in exasperation. “By all the saints. Abdul, have those men climb the lower branches and pick the leaves. But they’re not to take off their armor.”

Abdul sighed and turned away.

“I’m truly not being unreasonable,” Thea said. “These mulberry trees are very important. If you could see what beauty results from the—”

“It’s being done,” Ware said. “It doesn’t matter if it’s reasonable or not. I just want this over as quickly as possible.” He grimaced. “And I’d wager my men feel the same way. That armor is heavy and not meant to be worn when climbing trees. Besides, there is little dignity in the task. A soldier should not be asked to climb trees and pick leaves.”

“It’s a worthy task,” Thea said. “It should make no difference who does it. A tree gives sustenance—”

A crash behind her.

She whirled angrily, thinking that Abdul had disobeyed Ware’s order.

Abdul was sprawled beneath the tree, clutching a leaf to his armored chest. “I slipped,” he said apologetically to Ware.

“I see you did,” Ware said solemnly.

“It won’t happen again, my lord.”

Another crash. Another soldier fell to earth. Abdul gloomily amended, “Or maybe it will.”

“I hope not,” Ware said.

“I should go help.” Thea frowned worriedly. “I want no one harmed.”

“Stay,” Ware murmured. “The branches are too close to the ground to offer more harm than a bruise or two.”

She became conscious of some emotion beneath Ware’s impassiveness. His gaze was narrowed as he watched the soldiers struggle clumsily on the branches. It was as if he were waiting for something.

Another soldier crashed to earth.

She heard a strangled sound from Ware.

A minute later a fourth man sprawled on the ground.

“They’re falling like overripe oranges,” Ware gasped.

“It’s not fair they should—” She started toward the grove. “I’ll tell them to come down.”

Ware grabbed her arm. “Don’t you dare.”

“But I cannot let—”

Ware was laughing. His entire body was shaking with mirth. He had to reach out and grab at his saddle to keep upright.

“You think it funny?” she asked wonderingly.

“Like oranges.” Tears were running down his cheeks. “Like oranges…”

He was not the only one laughing. She saw to her amazement that the soldiers in the grove were also roaring with laughter.

A fifth armored soldier slipped from a limb, spreading his arms like wings as he tried to catch his balance.

She found her own lips twitching. “I should not—It’s my fault that—” She couldn’t help it. She started to laugh and couldn’t stop. When she could speak, she shook her head. “When I was at Jedha, I didn’t think there was any laughter left in the world, and yet today…It makes me feel guilty.”

“It should not. Laughter is good.” He gestured to the men below. “They lost family and friends. Do you think they no longer remember their loss because they found something to laugh about today? Laughter heals.” He added almost inaudibly, “I had forgotten….”

She stared at him in fascination. He was a different man from the one she had come to know. The lines of bitterness and cynicism had smoothed from his face, leaving only weariness and a little wistfulness. The softness wouldn’t stay; it was already changing. But she had seen it, she had shared his laughter, and she knew she would always remember.

His gaze shifted back to her face, and any hint of softness vanished. “Why do you always stare at me as if I were some odd breed of camel?”

She was immediately on the defensive. “I don’t stare—” She stopped as she abruptly realized that antagonism was what he wanted of her. Why should she give him that satisfaction when she was feeling more mellow than combative? “In truth you do remind me of a camel. It is the eyelashes, I think.”

He frowned. “Eyelashes?”

“Camels have long eyelashes too. Many women would envy them.”

His eyes widened with outrage before his expression became even more forbidding. “Are you saying I have eyelashes like a woman?”

“Woman?” She gazed at him with bland innocence. “I thought we were speaking of camels.”

“You know very well—” He broke off and a grudging smile touched his lips. “I begin to feel sorry for Nicholas.”

“And you’re also as bad-tempered as a camel.” She pretended to think. “Though I’ve never seen you spit at anyone.”

“I may start any minute.”

“Then I’d better go down and help pick my leaves.” She started down the incline. “Your soldiers don’t seem to be very good at it.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I think you should train them in—” She forgot what she had been going to say when she saw how he was looking at her. Warmth. Amusement. Respect. From Ware such emotions were far more incomprehensible and disconcerting than lust or anger. She hurriedly glanced away and her pace quickened.

An hour later the baskets were filled and loaded in the wagon, and Thea climbed back to Ware.

“We’re finished,” she said. “Though not with any help from you.”

“A knight should never compromise his dignity. My men would never respect me again if they saw me tumbling from a tree.”

She made a derogatory noise.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I think you have too much pride. But we’ve prevailed without you. We can leave now.”

“Not yet.”

“We have more than enough leaves.”

“Did you find any young trees suitable for replanting?”

She stared at him, puzzled. “I suppose there were three or four. I paid little attention.”

“Get them.” He motioned to Abdul, who was standing by the wagon. “Go with her and obey her instructions.”

Abdul looked alarmed. “I thought we were done with climbing trees, my lord.”

“Digging, not climbing.”

A brilliant smile lit Abdul’s face. “That is good.”

“I don’t need any trees,” Thea protested. “They would have to be replanted immediately and would not be of any use for a few years.”

“I want the trees.”

“There’s no place to plant them at the castle.”

“The green on the north side overlooking the cliff.”

He had clearly thought about this, she realized. “But it would be wasted effort. I’ll be gone long before they even take firm root.”

“Silk is a profitable business. Perhaps I’ll have Jasmine tend the trees and grow silk for the trade.” He smiled. “If you’ll spare us some of your valuable worms?”

“Of course,” she said doubtfully. “And I’ll teach Jasmine how to care for them and gather the strands. You really wish this?”

“I really wish it. Perhaps someday I’ll grow weary of crunching heads and want a more peaceful occupation. It’s not completely beyond possib—” He broke off and went still.

“What is it?”

His head lifted, and his gaze turned to the rocks on the hill.

Danger. The threat vibrated from every muscle in his body. It could not have been clearer if he had spoken the word.

“What’s wrong?”

His gaze never left the boulders. “Get the trees.”

“You said there was no one here.”

“Dammit, there wasn’t anyone.”

“Is it the same people who set fire to the village?”

“No.”

She impulsively reached out and put her hand on his arm. “Then why are you—”

“Don’t touch me!” He jerked away as if she had burned him. His eyes blazed down at her. “There’s no one there. Go get those trees. Hurry.”

She backed away from him, then turned and walked quickly down the hill with Abdul following. Before she reached the grove, five more soldiers joined Abdul. A half-dozen armored men to uproot a few trees? She glanced up the hill.

Ware had moved away from his horse and was standing facing the boulders. Defiance. Boldness. Challenge. He had given her an armed escort, yet he was standing in full view, as if taunting whoever was on that hillside.

Or diverting?

“My lord said to hurry,” Abdul reminded her.

She hesitated. Her instinct was to return to Ware, yet if there was danger of attack, wouldn’t he have ordered the men back to the castle? Perhaps it was her imagination. Perhaps there was no one on that hillside and Ware’s change of attitude was just moodiness. The argument didn’t convince her, but if she went to him without the trees, he would only send her to the grove again. The quickest way to resolve the situation was to get the mulberries and ride away from here as soon as possible.

“Then we will hurry,” she answered. “Follow me.”

Vaden watched the fourth tree being loaded into the wagon.

It was the woman who guided the disposition of the trees. It had been the woman who had forced Ware’s soldiers to climb like monkeys. It has been the woman who had laughed with Ware and reached out and touched him. It did not matter that Ware had flinched away. He had become aware of Vaden by that time, and the motion had been as revealing as what had gone before.

Ware was still standing looking up at him, protecting the woman by offering himself as target. It was a brave move, but Vaden could not make the kill today. If he missed, Ware’s soldiers would swarm over the hillside, and Vaden had no desire to die.

Ware mounted his horse, reached down, and lifted the woman. His mailed arm encircled her, covering her chest and part of her belly. He was trying to armor the woman.

But Vaden still had her eyes as target.

Ware was shifting her sidewise on the saddle, burying her face against his chest.

Clever Ware. He had always been brilliant in protecting his flank. The strategy with the woman had been unnecessary. If he couldn’t kill Ware today, he wouldn’t kill anyone else. Besides, he thought with disgust, he wasn’t the Grand Master, who murdered innocents without warning.

But she would have to die. He had no choice.

Ware had allowed her to come too close.