02 - The Barbed Rose (10 page)

The healer was worried, she knew. It had to have been alarming to see Aisse come awake screaming, caught in an apparent fit. But the woman wouldn’t leave her alone, endlessly pick, pick, picking, wanting to know what had happened, how she felt, was the baby moving? As if she couldn’t see it moving in great waves and bulges.

Aisse sighed. Merinda went silent and still in her corner, forcing Aisse to pretend at dreaming, smacking her lips, mumbling wordlessly. Merinda would drive her mad. She might be ilias—of a sort—but she wasn’t marked. She didn’t know what the magic could do, hadn’t been caught up in it when it swept through them. Aisse hadn’t known herself it could reach so far.

Perhaps it was petty, but Aisse didn’t want Merinda to know. The magic was hers. Hers and the men’s. Merinda didn’t have any part of it, nor did she need to. Not unless Kallista said, and Kallista wasn’t here. Merinda could do sex with the men if she wanted. Aisse didn’t care about that. But the magic was theirs alone.

“The mighty hunters return.” Stone burst through the low cave entrance. “We come, bearing success before us.”

“Actually, we come dragging a goat behind us,” Fox amended, ducking inside. “And if Stone hadn’t shouted loud enough to be heard back in Tibre, we’d have a deer as well. If he could have shot straight enough to kill it.”

Hiding her smile, Aisse heaved herself more or less upright, patting the babies back to sleep when they stirred. Fox hauled on the rope he held, and true enough, a small goat came baa-ing into the cave. Its hooves scrabbled against the stone floor as it fought to free itself of the tether.

“It came running up to us,” Fox said. “I think it wanted to be milked. Something must have happened to her kid. But it doesn’t seem to like ropes.” The goat kicked at him and he dodged the blow.

“It heard me shouting and came.” Stone winked at Aisse as he sat beside her near the fire. “Thought I was calling it. See there? If I hadn’t shouted, we wouldn’t have the goat and since we were hunting food for the babies, a she-goat is better than a deer any day. I’m
frozen
.”

“Why were you shouting?” Merinda brought him dry trousers from the packs across the fire.

Stone surprised Aisse by looking her way rather than Merinda’s, question in his eyes. She gave him a subtle shake of her head and he answered with an equally subtle nod. He took the trousers and stood to change, delaying his response further.

“I fell,” he said. “Tripped over something under the snow, slid down a bank and laid out full length.” He displayed his ice-crusted frontside before stripping off the wet garments. “It was cold.”

“Come and change, Fox,” Merinda called. “You need to warm up, too.”

“I didn’t fall. I’m not as wet as Stone. Let me see to the animals.” He paused, apparently observing the goat with his other sense. “Does anyone know how to milk a goat, or is this another thing we have to discover how to do?”

Merinda sighed. “I can do it. You come dry off. Warm up.” Her green robe swished against her wool-clad legs as she strode across the cave to the side reserved for the animals—riding horses, pack horses and now the goat.

Fox waited for her. “Thank you, Merinda.” He set his hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead, both cheeks, then her lips, brief and almost—but not quite—chaste. He left the healer staring after him in bemusement for a moment before she turned slowly toward the goat. It baa-ed at her.

“What was that?” Stone asked when Fox reached them.

“You said she wants sex. If we give her that—as much as we can right now, more later—maybe she will not ask questions. She doesn’t need to know about the magic.”

“Yes, exactly” Aisse agreed. “What happened?”

“You were there.” Stone pulled his dry tunic down over his stomach and turned his back to the fire, rubbing warmth into his buttocks. “You know what happened. The magic—”

“Yes, but
how?
Why?” Aisse picked up Fox’s discarded trousers. “These need washing, don’t they?”

“And mine as well.” Stone grinned cheerfully at her.

“Someone I didn’t know was there, in the magic,” Fox said, dressing again quickly. “Did you sense—
him
, I think. A man. Another ilias? Another marked one?”

“I think you are right.” Aisse frowned. “He seemed familiar. As if I’ve met him.”

Fox shook his head. “I didn’t know him.”

“I think I did,” Stone said. “Maybe someone we met in Arikon? Before Fox found us.”

“Maybe.” Fox gathered up the wet clothing. “At least we know they reached Arikon safely.”

“What are you three discussing so seriously?” Merinda’s voice, coming so unexpectedly from so close at hand, made Aisse jump and jostle the twins. Fortunately, only Rozite protested. Stone scooped his daughter up for comfort.

“When the weather might clear enough to go on,” Fox said. “We need to reach Sumald sooner rather than later.”

He tossed the clothes he held into the pile of soiled baby things and slung an arm over Merinda’s shoulder. He took the bucket of milk from her and set it near the fire. “I can think of more interesting matters to discuss between us.” He led her away toward the shadows at the back of the cave. After a moment, Merinda’s giggle came floating out.

Aisse allowed herself a fleeting smile before turning her mind to the question of how exactly she might maneuver her frigate-sized self around to reach the milk bucket and prepare feeding bottles for the twins.

“Take Rozite,” Stone said. “I’ll make the feeders.” He tipped his head toward the shadows that made such interesting rustling noises, eyes asking questions. “You don’t mind? I thought—”

“Why would I mind? It’s sex, not magic. And she’s ilias…I think.” Aisse frowned then. “Isn’t she? If she is not, I will kill her. When I can get off the floor by myself.”

“We talked about it, Fox and I. We decided she is.”

“You just want to do sex with her.”

Stone leered happily at her. “Of course. I’d rather do it with you, mind, but she’ll do in a pinch.”

“Me? I’m fat. A pig is smaller than I am.”

“But you’re
our
fat pig.” Stone caught her around the middle and rolled her onto his lap, babies and all, nuzzling her neck under her short-cropped hair.

Aisse squealed, sounding far too piglike for her own comfort, and slapped at him, one-handed, clutching a squalling Rozite in the other arm. Stone just laughed and changed his nuzzling to loud, smacking kisses before he let her go. He handed her the feeder.

“I wish you would have me, Aisse,” he said, voice suddenly low and far too serious. “There’s only you and Kallista, and Kallista’s not here. I miss the belonging.”

Aisse stared at him as he prepared the second feeder against Lorynda’s waking, as Rozite sucked eagerly at the warm goat’s milk. She would never have thought it mattered to him other than the quick, pleasurable release of sex. She kept thinking of him as a Tibran Warrior, one of those who saw women as things, conveniences, rather than persons, one of those who had made her previous life a misery. But he wasn’t. Hadn’t been for more than a year. He was Adaran ilias. As was she.

And he was hers. Like Fox. And Torchay and Obed and Kallista, off away in Arikon. And Merinda too, maybe, for a time. Fox had never hurt her, had given her pleasure and a child. None of the others would hurt her either, because she was theirs. They belonged, all of them together. And if any of them wanted to do sex with her, well then…Aisse wanted it, too. She should have understood this long ago, but at least she understood it now.

“Stone.” She touched his shoulder. “I will have you, if you truly wish it. But—don’t forget to keep Merinda busy.”

He turned, leaned toward her, holding her gaze with those blue eyes that seemed so strange in such a Tibran face. He watched her, coming closer until his lips touched hers, softly at first, then with more and more intensity until he broke off and backed away.

“You do mean it,” he said, controlling his breath with effort. “I was afraid you were just—”

Then he grinned. “Good. After our little adventure in the snow, I can wait. But I have your promise.”

Aisse couldn’t help smiling in the face of that grin. “You have it.”

What was left of the day in Arikon was spent in finding clothing for Joh, resting, eating again and more resting. Now and again, Kallista touched the links inside her with delicate fingers, the magic quiescent. She wanted to test it, to see whether it had truly returned, but after such a display, the magic seemed sluggish.

Tired, perhaps. Goddess knew, Kallista was tired. And without Fox to give the magic his order, she was a bit afraid to tap into the massive power Torchay held. Who knew what that much magic would do if it got away from her?

In the middle of her seventh yawn in as many ticks, Torchay spoke. “Why are we sitting here yawning when there are beds for sleeping just behind those doors?”

The long central parlor was lined on either side with enough small bedrooms for every member of the largest ilian, a full twelve-strong, to find privacy, and one large bedroom in case they found privacy overrated. Last year, at the ilian’s beginning, they had all slept in the separate rooms. Kallista wasn’t having any of it now.

She rolled to her feet and caught Obed’s arm before he could escape on some pretext. “Go.” She shoved him ahead of her, toward the large sleeping room. “In there.”

“I need to—”

“No, you don’t. Whatever it is can wait.” She kept her grip on him, steering him where she wanted him to go. “Joh, you’d better catch up if you don’t want a nasty surprise.”

A quick jingle of silver chain behind her told her their new ilias had heeded her warning. The parlor darkened. Torchay snuffed the lamps save for the one he brought with him when he took over the lead.

The single lamp cast the big room into romantic shadows and made the enormous bed look even larger, as if it stretched past the darkness into eternity. Ivory velvet covered the vast expanse, promising a sensory treat even without the masses of gold, white and yellow silken pillows piled upon it.

“I—” Joh had to stop and clear his throat before beginning again. “I think I should sleep here.” He indicated a cot near the door, intended for children or perhaps a servant.

Kallista exchanged a look with Torchay. Aisse had slept apart for several months until she became accustomed to being part of an ilian, one full of men. Due to her past, she had trouble trusting men. Still did, save for her iliasti. Kallista supposed they owed Joh the same opportunity. It would give Joh and Torchay both a chance to get used to the new situation.

And it would occupy the cot so Obed couldn’t sleep there. If she forced a physical closeness, refused to let him retreat, perhaps he would eventually open up and allow a more complete intimacy. She feared for the magic if Obed kept himself so shut off from her, not to mention the heartache it caused. Why did he have to wait until she had come to love him before pulling back this way?

When she nodded, Joh sat on the cot and unwrapped one of the chains looped around his ankle bands. Kallista watched, intrigued. She hadn’t known the extra chains were more than decorative. Joh threaded the chain through a painted metal eyebolt near the door and snapped it shut with the click of a lock.

“I hope we have the key.” She raised an eyebrow at Torchay before looking back at Joh who was now pulling off his tunic. “Those chains are more than a century old.”

Torchay hung his tunic on a hook by the bed. “It’s on my dress uniform belt. I forgot it when you returned the chains to the Reinine last fall.”

“Did you bring your dress uniform?” Kallista drew back the velvet coverlet, exposing silken sheets.

“We were coming to court. Of course I brought it. You brought yours, too.”

Obed was standing motionless where she’d pushed him, his face shut down, eyes unfocused, seeming to stare inward. Kallista dragged his Southron robe from his shoulders, startling him to awareness.

“Get ready for bed.” She held on to the robe when he would have shrugged it back on. “You’re sleeping here. With us.”

With great dignity, he inclined his head, expression mask-like. “As you wish.”

Kallista sighed, stripping down to her chemise and smalls while Obed slowly removed his weapons, then his tunic and boots. He eyed Torchay who waited bare-chested, wearing only his knee-length smallclothes. With a subtle sigh, Obed unlaced his trousers and slid them off, though he left his undershirt on. Kallista said nothing. He was Southron, after all. Likely he felt the cold more. Torchay blew out the lamp.

With a hand in the warm center between his shoulders, Kallista pushed Obed onto the bed and followed. He gave her his back. She didn’t care, tucking herself around him as Torchay curled himself around her back. Pale moonlight glimmered faintly through the far windows, but Kallista was too tired to admire it. She slept.

As the moon rose higher and night deepened, Kallista’s sleep grew restless. She twisted between her men while dreams battered at thick walls, trying to wake the magic within. It stirred, then tucked itself tight against disturbance.

The dreams circled, probing, teasing. The magic swirled, uneasy, but held the dreams at bay until they found a gap. A tiny chink in the wall, singing with power. The dreams bled through and followed the power, carrying their message along.

Torchay stood in the Veryas Valley before Arikon. Without having to look, he knew his family was behind him—Kallista, their children, Aisse and the others. And danger lay before him.

Why he stood alone, he did not know, but he knew that he alone stood between his loved ones and unspeakable horror.

His twin Heldring-forged short swords were in his hands without having to draw them. They would do no good against the thing that was coming, but he had no other weapons. He had no magic of his own.

He waited, praying with every breath as the darkness rolled toward him. It had no shape, no substance he could distinguish with any of his senses, but he knew it was there, coming inside the darkness. He’d seen it before, known it before, but this was different. Worse. In one small corner of his mind, he wondered if this was what Fox’s
knowing
was like. Mostly, he waited. And prayed.