Lion’s Bride

Chapter Six

“I CAN’T brEATHE.” Thea struggled to lift her head from Ware’s chest. “You’re smothering me.”

“Be quiet.”

“When you stop smashing my nose into your armor.”

Ware’s arms tightened around her, quelling all movement. “Soon.”

She was only hurting herself. She gave up struggling and lay still.

They were several miles from the grove when Ware let her sit up. She drew a deep breath and smoothed the bodice of her gown. “I wonder you didn’t make me ride all the way back to Dundragon in that position. It was most uncomfortable.”

He didn’t answer.

She tried to turn around and look over her shoulder.

“Be still.”

His tone was impatient, but there was no tension. The danger was gone. “Who was it?”

“I didn’t say anyone was there.”

“But there was.”

“If my men had been in danger, I would have told them. I wouldn’t have risked another Jedha.”

She knew he was speaking the truth. She had seen the guilt that tormented him after the massacre. Yet there had been danger today.

“There was someone on the hillside.”

“Did you see him?”

Him. Singular, not plural. How could one man have caused such a disturbance in Ware? “No.”

“Neither did I.”

Then he had heard him or sensed him. He had known. She started to argue, but she could see he was closed to her. He had made up his mind and would not yield.

It was not yet sunset when they rode through the gates of Dundragon.

He reined in his horse and lowered her to the ground. “Go to your chamber and rest.”

She shook her head. “The trees must be planted at once.” She motioned to Abdul. “They’re very fragile when they’re uprooted. They could die.”

He nodded and started to turn away.

“Will they follow us?” she asked abruptly.

He stopped to look at her.

“I want to know,” she said fiercely. “You’re not being fair. It’s my life too. Will they come? Will it be like Jedha?”

“No.”

“How can you be sure? Who was it?”

At first she thought he would ignore the question. “Vaden.”

He rode his horse toward the stable.

She doubted if she could wrest any more from him than that one word.

But the name was vaguely familiar. Where had she heard it?

On the battlements, the night of the massacre. The tiny campfire on the third mountain.

Vaden…

The last tree was not planted until well after dark.

Would they survive? Thea wondered. The green was open to the sun and winds, and it would require great care to make sure the roots took hold. She rubbed the small of her back as she rose from the ground.

“It is all done?” Abdul held the lantern high, surveying the row of trees.

She nodded. “Thank you, Abdul.”

“With these fine trees, you will not need us to go and pluck any more leaves?” he asked hopefully.

She smothered a smile. She did not have the heart to tell him these trees would not be ready for a long time. “We have sufficient.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “There is no dignity in this plucking of leaves.”

Ware had expressed the same sentiment. “Yet you didn’t object when Lord Ware told you to do it.”

“My lord always has a good reason.” They started for the castle, the lantern lighting their way. “But I’m glad this plucking is over.”

“I was sorry you fell from the tree.”

He suddenly grinned. “So was I. It was not funny when it happened, but I found it very amusing with the others. Laughter is good. We needed it.”

She was silent a moment. “Did you lose someone in Jedha?”

His smile faded. “My family was already dead, but I had friends who died that night.”

“But you don’t blame Lord Ware?”

He looked at her in surprise. “Why? He did not do it. These things happen in war. Our village was starving, our young men without hope, when he came to Dundragon. He fed the poor and the helpless and gave the rest of us back our honor.”

“So you will continue to serve him?”

He nodded, then made a rueful face. “But I hope that he asks me only to fight his wars, not climb trees.”

She chuckled. “I don’t think he will do—”

“My mother sent me to get you.” Tasza stood in the doorway, gazing coldly at Thea. “She said that it is foolish for you to stay out and risk the night devils bringing you the fever.”

Abdul smiled at the girl. “But I was here to protect her from the night devils, Tasza.” He bowed to Thea. “I must go have my supper. Good night.”

“Good night. Thank you, Abdul.” Thea smiled at him. “No more leaves, I promise.”

He nodded and strolled down the path that led around the castle to the courtyard.

“You had him helping you dig in the dirt,” Tasza said curtly. “You should not have done it. He is a very important man, a leader.”

Thea smiled. “He’s already told me I have injured his dignity.”

“It’s not funny.” She turned and moved back into the castle. “Don’t do it again.”

Tasza was bristling with protective outrage, Thea realized. “I didn’t mean to insult your friend, Tasza.”

“He is not my friend. Whores do not have men as friends.” A world of pain layered the sharpness of her tone.

Thea did not know what to say. She couldn’t tell Tasza she understood. She knew little of whores or the men who used them and then condemned them. “Abdul seemed to treat you as a friend.”

“Because he is kind…and he pities me. I’ve seen it in his face.” Her tone was suddenly fierce. “I don’t need his pity. I have such skill, I can make men weep with pleasure. Can you say the same?”

“No.”

“Of course not. My mother says you’re a virgin.” She paused. “Are you going to couple with Abdul?”

Thea’s eyes widened in shock.

“Are you?” Tasza demanded.

Thea shook her head.

Relief rippled over Tasza’s face, but her tone was offhand. “It’s just as well. He deserves better than a woman with no skill.”

Tasza was jealous. Jealous and hurting and striking out in all directions. What must it be like to have to rely only on your body to find worth in a man’s eyes? Thea would not have been able to bear it. She said gently, “You’re right, I don’t have your skill.” She paused. “But you don’t have mine.”

“Your skills and embroidery mean nothing when a man is in lust.”

“But they can bring pleasure for a hundred years, not just for a few moments. And I can earn my bread and be dependent on no man.”

Tasza shook her head. “A woman is always dependent on a man. They will allow nothing else.”

“Not if we have a skill that they need.” She paused. “Men are driven by a desire for gold and power and are more likely to pay heed to what a woman demands if she can offer him one or the other. Silk can become gold. Fine embroidery is valued by all.”

Tasza was silent a moment. “You have strange ideas.”

“Lord Ware said he’s interested in making silk for the trade. He wished Jasmine to learn how to take care of the worms and trees.” She added with careful casualness, “I could teach you as well.”

“Me? Worms?” She adamantly shook her head.

“I can teach you embroidery, but after you learn the stitches, it will still take years to perfect.”

“I didn’t say I wished to learn this skill.” Tasza paused. “But you may teach my mother. She’s no longer young, and I think she would like—” She was silent a moment. “She deserves to be treated as a woman of worth.”

“And you do not?”

Tasza glared at her. “You’re confusing me. I’ll talk no more about this.” She turned on her heel. “My mother said to tell you she moved Haroun to her room.”

“She didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, she did. Give her no argument. She needs to pamper the boy as much as he needs the care. In a few weeks he should be well enough to go to the soldiers’ barracks.” She moved toward the door leading to the servants’ quarters. “Abdul will make sure he comes to no harm. If he’s not distracted digging in the dirt to plant your silly trees.”

Thea shook her head as she made her way down the corridor toward the Great Hall. Why had she offered to teach the woman when she had been certain of a rebuff? She was being drawn deeper and deeper into the lives of the people here, and she could not allow it.

But it would do no harm to try to give these women what she had herself. They were both strong and deserved something better than the life fate had doled them. She would not be able to teach them more than the rudiments before she left for Damascus, but perhaps that would be enough. She had taught herself more than she had been taught. Perhaps it would be the same with Tasza and Jasmine.

If Tasza would let herself be taught. She seemed to resent everyone in the world but her mother.

And Abdul.

Well, Thea could not worry about them tonight. She must get something to eat, wash off this dirt, and go to her bed. She would sleep well tonight.

Would Ware sleep well tonight?

She banished the intrusive thought. She had spent enough time wondering if all was well with him. He, too, was insinuating himself into her life. No, that was the wrong word. Not “insinuate,” there was no subtlety about Ware. He was like a rock rolling down hill, crushing everything in its path.

Like the boulders on the hillside this afternoon, the boulders that had hidden the threat he refused to discuss.

Let him keep his secrets. Any confidences would draw her closer to him, and she wanted to be no nearer than she was bound to be by her promise to Kadar. Ware aroused too many unsettling emotions. Perhaps her vow could be kept by seeing that Ware had the means for entry into the silk trade.

No, she thought regretfully, Kadar would not consider that the service he’d required of her. He had told her to keep Ware company. And how was she to do that? she wondered in exasperation. Was she supposed to help him train his troops or join him as he drank his way to oblivion?

Ware was sitting at a table in the Great Hall with a large account book in front of him and a quill in his hand when she went searching for him the next afternoon.

“I’ve come to play chess with you,” Thea announced belligerently.

Ware frowned. “I don’t wish to play chess.”

“Neither do I,” she said crossly. “It seems to me a foolish game with everyone stalking one another. But Kadar said you enjoyed playing, so I must play with you.”

“It’s a very intelligent game.” He paused before adding, “But meant for men of war, not for women. They don’t have the bent of mind for such strategy. Kadar should not have attempted to teach you.”

“Oh, shouldn’t he?” she asked with ominous softness. “Just because I think it a foolish game is no reason to believe I cannot play it.”

“I have no time to find out.” He scowled down at the book. “Leave me. I have figuring to do, and reconciling these numbers makes me extremely bad-tempered.”

“Dundragon has no agent?”

He said with sarcasm, “Most Franks are willing to accept my temporary protection from the Saracens, but not the risk of allying themselves with me against the Templars. Is that not strange?”

“What of a villager?”

“It would take longer to teach one than to do it myself.” He dipped his quill in the inkwell. “And I hate—” He broke off and slowly lifted his head. “Kadar usually did this for me.”

“He did?” she said cautiously.

“But he’s gone now.”

She knew where this was leading. “I also hate numbers.”

“But Kadar said you learned to do them at the House of Nicholas.” He paused. “It doesn’t seem unreasonable for you to assume this duty for him.”

“For him ?”

“He was the one who asked service of you.”

“I’ll play chess with you, but I’ll not do these accounts.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps you think they’ll be too hard for you? It’s true, a woman’s mind isn’t meant for—”

“I’m not a fool and I won’t be played for one. I won’t do your work.”

He sighed. “It was worth a try. Then go away and leave me to them.”

She started to turn away and then stopped. How was she to bear him company if she was not with him? “I will look at them,” she said grudgingly.

He instantly swung the book around to face her.

She looked at one page, then turned to another. “By all the saints, this is a hodgepodge. I cannot even read it.”

“I was just starting to work on it. Kadar has poor penmanship.”

She looked through a few previous entries. “Kadar also cannot add.” She glanced up and said, “And I’d wager his penmanship is remarkably like your own.”

He gazed at her innocently. “But how can you be sure?” He rose to his feet. “Well, I must go see Abdul.”

Like a boy going out to play, he intended to escape and leave her with this numeric nightmare. “I think not.” She went around the table and settled herself in his chair. She pointed at another chair a few yards distant. “Sit there.”

“I have things to do.”

“Yes, you must sit there and explain these hideous blotches that I cannot read. I’ll try to straighten the accounts, but you will bear me company.” She smiled sweetly. “As I promised Kadar.”

He frowned. “I’m to sit here and twiddle my thumbs?”

“Or do the accounts yourself.”

He reluctantly sat down. “I don’t like to be still.”

“One does what one must. Think of something else, as I did when I was a child enduring long hours at my loom.” She opened the book to the first page. This task might well last until Kadar returned, she realized crossly.

“What did you think about?”

She looked up in puzzlement and then remembered her words. “Many things. At times I would imagine the designs I would create someday. When I was very little, I dreamed of going to the bazaar. I’ve never been to one, but my mother told me of a visit there. It sounded a magical place brimming with bright copper plates and fine jewels and strange sweets.”

“And thieves and whores and the smell of fish.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” She picked up the quill. “It would be exciting. I shall go see it for myself someday. Perhaps as soon as I reach Damascus. Though I shall be very busy for quite a while.”

“You’d be disappointed. It’s nothing to see.”

His low tone held a thread of violence, and she looked up. His expression was impassive. Perhaps she had been mistaken. “You say that because you’ve already seen it.”

“I say that because it’s true.”

Again she had an impression of repressed violence. She looked back down at the figures. “Then think of something you find pleasant. What of your homeland?” She tried to remember the name. “This Scotland? Is it a fair land?”

“No, it’s a hard, mountainous land. The weather is stormy and wild. The seas are rough and the people rougher.” He added bitterly, “And they’re all barbarians, like me.”

Did he expect her to argue with him? “Then it’s no wonder you left it.”

“I would have stayed there forever, if given a choice.”

“Why?”

“Only another barbarian would understand.” He gazed beyond her at the tapestry on the wall, but she didn’t think he was seeing it. “All my life we’d been at war with the MacKillians. Douglas MacKillian bested us and took Dunlachan castle. My father was wounded in the battle and we fled to the hills. I wanted to go back and fight, but before he died, he made me promise to leave Scotland.”

“I’m surprised you gave such a promise.”

“I understood why it was important to him. I was the last of my line. If I’d been killed, even the memory of our family would have vanished.”

“So you came here?”

He shook his head. “I had to flee to England with only my horse and armor. I became a free lance and went from tournament to tournament to win prizes and increase my fame. Then the Grand Master came to England to recruit knights for the Temple. I was very young and dazzled by his words. Everyone knew only the best warriors were allowed to join the order. To be a Knight Templar was to be respected and revered as no other knight on earth.”

“But you became a monk. You gave up worldly pleasures.”

He smiled. “There were compensations. I was very content those three years I was in the order.”

“What compensations?”

He shrugged. “Oh, many things. Fine food—we ate very well to maintain our strength. Clean lodgings. Knowledge. I was an ignorant boy when I became a Templar, and I was given the opportunity to learn.”

Her gaze narrowed on his face. “But that is not all.”

“No.” He paused. “Brotherhood. I had no one, and then I had brothers.”

She almost wished she had not asked. She suddenly had a picture of a more vulnerable Ware. A tough, lonely young warrior who had needed the bonds of family and had sacrificed a great deal to get those ties. Now he was more lonely than before. She felt a surge of protectiveness. “Brothers don’t seek to kill brothers.”

His expression became shuttered. “I beg to disagree. Remember Cain and Abel.” He paused. “If you’d set yourself to those numbers and ask fewer questions, we might be out of here before nightfall.”

He’d withdrawn into that gruff, harsh shell, and it was clear no more confidences would be forthcoming. It was just as well. She was finding herself entirely too absorbed in the puzzle that was Ware of Dundragon. The more she learned, the more she wanted to delve. “If you’d set yourself to learning to add when you were among your brother monks, I’d not be having this problem. I don’t think I believe you when you say you sought knowledge at the Temple.”

“Oh, it is true.” He smiled bitterly. “But the lessons the Templars taught went beyond mere numbers and scrawled words.”

She had heard of mystical secrets and ceremonies conducted by the knights in their Temple. “Numbers are not ‘mere’ when it concerns gold flowing in all directions.” She frowned. “The cost of torches and candles is far too much. I cannot read this entry. What is the second number on—”

“Forgive me, my lord, there is something you should see,” Abdul said from the doorway.

“At once.” Ware sprang from his chair and moved toward the door.

He thought to escape and leave her to puzzle the accounts out for herself. She would not allow it. She pushed the book aside and stood up. “I’ll go also. I feel the need for a walk.” She gazed meaningfully at Ware. “It may be a long day…for both of us.”

He scowled. “I hate for you to be interrupted. You’ve just got started.”

“My lord, perhaps…” Abdul stopped and then said, “I think the Lady Thea should not see this. It may upset her.”

“What is it?” Thea asked, alarmed. “What’s happened?”

“If you didn’t want her to go, you shouldn’t have told her she should stay,” Ware muttered as he strode from the chamber.

Thea quickly followed them, almost running to match their stride as they crossed the courtyard. “What’s happened, Abdul?”

“A short time ago we saw a knight approaching the castle. He stopped just outside range of our arrows.”

Ware stopped in midstride. “Did his mantle bear the sign of the cross?”

Abdul shook his head. “He bore no mark of identification, but he rode a great white horse.”

“Christ.” Ware started toward the gates at a run. “Is he still there?”

“No, but he left something. I sent Hassan and Iman out to drag it into the courtyard.”

“And be trapped?”

“We made sure he was out of view. And, after all, he’s only one man, my lord.”

“I’ve seen that man kill eight seasoned soldiers in the space of the time it takes to lower a drawbridge.”

The drawbridge was lowering now, and Ware waited as Hassan and Iman crossed the moat. His muscles were braced, as they had been yesterday at the grove, Thea noticed. For the same cause?

“Vaden?” she asked.

He nodded curtly, his gaze on the approaching horsemen. They were dragging something behind them. A body?

She stepped forward as they reached the courtyard.

It was not a body; it was a tree. A young mulberry tree of about seven feet in length.

At least she thought it was a mulberry tree. Every limb had been hacked from its trunk, the roots cruelly severed. It was an act of cold, deliberate destruction.

She shivered as she moved to stand beside Ware. “He killed it,” she whispered. “Why would he do that? And why would he bring it here?”

Ware motioned to Abdul. “Get rid of it. I don’t want to see it again.” He turned and strode back toward the castle.

Thea took one last glance at the butchered tree before running to catch up with him. She suddenly realized Ware’s face was pale, his expression grimmer than she had ever seen it. “Why would he do that? It makes no sense.”

“You don’t venture through those gates,” he said harshly. “I don’t even want you on the battlements until after dark.”

“How could I leave the castle? You permit no one to leave without your consent.”

“How do I know what you’ll do? You might decide to go after more of your cursed mulberry leaves.”

“I told you I had a sufficient—” She stopped as she made the connection. “You believe the tree is a warning.”

“I know it’s a warning.”

She was trying to work it out. “But not against you.”

“Vaden has no doubt that I know he’s going to kill me.”

Not try to kill him, but going to kill him. He spoke as if his death by Vaden’s hand were inevitable. “Then why—” Her eyes widened in shock. “Me?”

“He saw you stop Abdul and the others from hacking off the branches. He knew I’d know what he meant.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “He wants to kill me?”

“He doesn’t want to do it, he feels he must. Vaden is no butcher of innocents.”

She could believe that the man who had coldly, methodically dismembered that tree was capable of anything. “You’re defending him.”

“I’m not defending him; I’m explaining. Vaden is a fair man. He could have killed you yesterday, but he wanted to give warning of his intention.”

“But why? I’ve done nothing to harm him.”

“No, you’ve done nothing. I’m at fault. I was stupid and allowed myself—Christ, you’d think I’d learn. Does the whole world have to die before I—” He turned and moved toward the stable. “Go inside and stay there. I’m going to ride out and see if I can find him.”

Fear sliced through her. He had already told Abdul how formidable Vaden was. “You’re going alone?”

He nodded grimly. “I won’t have my men pay for my stupidity. I doubt if he’ll let me find him. He flits around these mountains like a phantom.”

“He was on the third mountain….”

“Do you think me a fool? I’ve tried several times in the last two years. He’s always gone before we reach the camp.”

Like a phantom, Ware had said. A deadly phantom…“He cannot mean it. All this makes no sense.”

“He means it.” He stopped at the stable door and looked down at her. “I’ll leave orders with Abdul that if I don’t return, he’s to take you from here to a place of safety. You’re not to argue, you’re just to go. Do you understand?”

“No, I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this.”

“Go back to the castle.” He entered the stable. “I’ve no time to explain.”

She started to follow him and then stopped. He would not be dissuaded, she realized in frustration. He would ride out and try to kill that man who had threatened her life.

It was all madness. He had to be mistaken.

But he was certain enough to risk his life to try to prevent her murder.

She moved slowly toward the castle.

Why weren’t women trained to fight their own battles instead of relying on men to do it for them? But it was not her battle. She had nothing to do with Ware of Dundragon. Fate had sent her whirling into his life to be faced with a danger she knew nothing about. It was not fair.

But she was not being fair either. He had saved her and was bringing Selene to her. If he had not bothered to replenish her supply of mulberry leaves, he wouldn’t have to venture now from the castle and seek out this madman who wanted to kill her. He was as much a victim of fate as she.

Darkness fell and Ware had still not returned.

She climbed to the falcons’ tower and stood looking out over the countryside.

No fire burned on the third mountain.

Did that mean that Vaden had turned hunter?

A chill went through her. Ware might die this night. He might already be dead.

She closed her eyes as a wave of sickness washed over her. It should not mean this much to her. He was almost a stranger, and he had never sought her friendship. In truth, he had rejected her on any number of occasions. He was a rough, arrogant warrior interested only in battle and the gold he received for fighting.

Yet he had somehow touched her. She had wanted to draw closer to him, protect him, help him. By all the saints, she should not have let it happen. Selene and her new life should be the only things of importance to her. She had told Kadar she was selfish, and she should have guarded that selfishness with all her strength.

There was no use looking back in regret, she thought wearily. He had managed to creep under her guard, so she must stop fighting and accept it. She must find a place for him.

If it was not too late.

It was close to midnight when Thea heard the challenge from the guard at the drawbridge.

She flew down the steps and was waiting when Ware rode through the gates.

“What are you doing here?” He dismounted and threw the reins of his horse to a stable boy. “The night is chill. Have you nothing better to do than wander around the courtyard at midnight?”

She was so glad to see him that she felt no anger at his surliness. She said lightly, “I suppose I could have occupied myself by checking those terrible accounts, but there’s no Dundragon without you, and I wasn’t sure you’d be back. I hate to waste time.”

He pulled off his helmet and wearily ran his hand through his hair. “I couldn’t find him.”

“Well, he didn’t find you either.” She turned and moved up the steps. “Get out of that armor and come to the Great Hall. I’ll have meat and bread ready.”

He frowned. “What if I don’t want to eat?”

“Do it anyway.” She tossed over her shoulder as she entered the castle, “I know it delights you to be contrary, but it will only hurt you to refuse to eat when you must feel hungry. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“I’m not contrary. I don’t like to be ordered about by—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish. Instead she strode quickly through the hall and down to the scullery.

She was kneeling, stoking the fire, when he entered the Great Hall. His face was clean, his hair wet, she noticed; he must have refreshed himself at the well after he’d removed his armor. She jerked her head toward the table. “Sit and eat. The meat is cold, but hunger is a fine sauce.” She gave the logs a final poke and rose to her feet. “And you are hungry, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He sat down and picked up a piece of meat. He scowled. “And I’m not contrary.”

“Of course you are.” She sat down at the table and poured him a goblet of wine. “And stubborn and rude and most annoying.”

He glared at her suspiciously. “You’re very cheerful.”

“Because I’m glad you’re back. I discovered something while you were gone.” She made a rueful face. “I find I have a liking for you.”

He stopped with the meat halfway to his mouth. “I beg your pardon?”

“I know it’s astonishing, since you’re most unlikable. It surprised me also. I’ve decided that I must have the same weakness in my character as Kadar. Or perhaps it’s poor judgment. At any rate, liking you will make keeping you company easier. I’ve not had much experience, but I hear friends make excellent company.”

He went still. “I’m not your friend.”

“Yes, you are. Or will be.”

“I’ve no desire to be your friend.”

“You’ve no choice. You’ve saved my life and you’re giving me Selene. Those are the acts of a friend.”

“Those were the acts of necessity.”

He was making this very difficult; but, then, he was a difficult man. In those hours in the tower she had determined that she would not be dissuaded. “You’re kinder than you would have it known.” She leaned back in her chair. “Finish eating. I’ll be silent. All this talk of kindness and friendship must be disturbing to one as churlish as you. I wouldn’t like you to have a bellyache.”

He finished his meat and reached for an apple. “I’m not churlish.” His teeth sank deep into the apple. “You call me your friend and then insult me.”

“I tell the truth. I’ve decided that I must accept your churlishness and try to find qualities in you to admire.” She smiled at him. “You cannot dissuade me. I will be your friend. Ware of Dundragon.”

“You will not—” He suddenly leaned back in his chair and wearily closed his eyes. “Do what you will. I suppose it makes no difference now. It’s too late. None of it matters.”

She stared at him in surprise. She had not expected surrender. It would not last, and she must take advantage of this unusual vulnerability. “If it doesn’t matter, tell me why this Vaden wishes to kill me.”

His lids opened, and she was shocked at the hollow desolation she saw there. “You laughed with me. You touched me.”

“What?”

“Vaden knows that you’re more than a woman for my bed. He’s afraid I might talk to you.” His laughter held a hint of desperation. “As I am doing now. I find it amusing that he drove me to the very thing they most want to avoid.”

It was not amusing. Thea had never seen such despair.

“You wish to be my friend?” He lifted his goblet to his lips. “You’ll change your mind. I’m not allowed to have friends. My friends die.”

It took her a moment to recover from the shock brought by his words. “Kadar is your friend. He’s not dead.”

“Yet. If he doesn’t leave me, they’ll kill him.”

“But why?”

“I told you. They won’t take the chance. Vaden has been waiting and watching for over two years. He knows Kadar has been at my side.”

“That doesn’t mean he’ll murder him. Wouldn’t he have done it before this?”

“He could afford to bide his time as long as Kadar is with me. He’s not like those others who murdered Phillipe. Vaden will kill me before he strikes at anyone else.”

“Phillipe?”

“My friend Phillipe of Girodeau. His kinsman Jeffrey was killed by the Templars, but Phillipe helped me anyway when I fled the Temple. For two months we scurried from place to place trying to hide. One night he insisted on going out of the caves to find food, and they captured him. When I found him, he’d been left for dead.” His voice hoarsened. “They’d tortured him to make him tell where I was hiding. He was in such pain that he could barely speak to me. He kept saying, ‘I didn’t tell. They couldn’t make me tell. Dear God, why, Ware? Why are they doing this to us?’” He poured himself another goblet of wine. “He died because I let him come too close.”

So no one must ever come close again, she thought. She remembered something he had said the night of the massacre. “You didn’t let anyone in Jedha come close, and they were killed too.”

“I believe the Grand Master was frustrated by my eluding him for such a long time and gave the order for the massacre to show me his power.” He smiled bitterly. “He knew the villagers were no danger. I’d been very careful after Phillipe. They died only because I was still alive.”

“So much hatred,” she whispered. “Why?”

He didn’t speak for a moment. “There were tales…. Jeffrey was curious and persuaded me to go down to the caves below the Temple. We saw something there we weren’t supposed to see.”

“What?”

He shook his head. “I’ve said enough. I’ve told you this much only because you deserve to know why you’re threatened. If I don’t tell you any more, it may save you.”

“It didn’t save your friend Phillipe.”

“No, and it wouldn’t save you from the Grand Master, but Vaden is different. If you could convince him you knew nothing…” He shrugged wearily. “I don’t know. He might let you go after I’m—”

Dead. He stopped before he could say the word, but his meaning could not have been clearer. The same inevitability had rung clear with one of his remarks before. “Stop that,” she said sharply. “You speak as if you’re already dead.”

“I’d be a fool not to. I have the greatest soldiers in Christendom trying to kill me.” His tone became fierce. “But I won’t let them take me without exacting my due. A man should leave a mark on the world, and I’ll carve mine deep.”

She shivered. “With a sword? That’s not a mark, it’s a scar.”

“Then so be it.” He smiled recklessly. “It’s the only remembrance I’m being allowed to leave behind. Better a scar than nothing at all.” He met her gaze and asked mockingly, “And how do you feel now? Do you still wish to be my friend? Do you wish to join Phillipe and those poor souls at Jedha?”

He thought she would say no. Heaven help her, she wanted to say no. She wanted to run away from Dundragon and this man who thought he was doomed. Life and freedom were just opening to her. “I don’t want to die.”

“I thought not.”

“Wait. Hear me out. I don’t like it, but you bought my friendship with your deeds, and now I’ve no choice.” She glared at him. “But I won’t give up as you’re doing. I have too many things to do with my life. I won’t be killed and I won’t let Selene be killed. So you’d better find a way to save us all. Do you hear me?”

He blinked, and then a slow smile lit his face. “Oh, yes, I hear you.”

“And you can stop behaving like a bad-tempered oaf. It appears I’m going to have enough trials to suffer without putting up with—”

“Churlishness?” he finished for her.

She nodded. “Exactly. I’ll expect to see you here in the hall tomorrow morning to bear me company while I’m doing your accounts.” She rose to her feet. “And now I’m going to my bed. I’d advise you to do the same.”

“Go to your bed?”

“No, and I’ll not have you saying things intended to make me uncomfortable. I may have to make a place for you in my life, but it will only be on the terms of friendship and respect I choose.” She moved toward the door. “You knew very well what I meant.”

“Yes, I knew what you meant.” She glanced over her shoulder to see him smiling curiously. He said, “But I believe I’ll stay here awhile and ponder your tender words of camaraderie.”

“There’s nothing to ponder. I believe I’ve made myself clear.”

As she left the hall, she heard him murmur, “Oh, but there’s much to ponder, Thea.”