Lock (20 page)

The black and white stallions were still neck-to-neck as they reached the homestretch. The others were several lengths behind them with no hope of catching the leaders. Suddenly Sea-Storm bounded ahead of the slowing black. Lock saw Sparrow smiling even as the wind and horse’s mane lashed her face.

Shea-Ann screamed her approval along with the rest of the crowd as Sparrow rode to victory.

She slowed Sea-Storm and hugged the stallion’s sweaty neck. “Good boy!”

The blacksmith sat astride her blowing mount, glaring in Lock’s direction. He winked at her, but refrained from approaching Sparrow and Sea Storm. He remained in line with the other slaves.

A slim, redheaded woman approached Sparrow and said, “Congratulations. That’s a fine, fast horse you have. You’ve won the first prize, two new blankets from the seamstress’s shop, a pair of boots from the cobbler, two sacks of apples, and the slave of your choice for tonight.”

Smiling, Sparrow glanced at Lock and dismounted while Shea-Ann held Sea Storm. She looked so beautiful, her cheeks flushed from the ride, her face sprinkled with perspiration and streaked with dirt. He stood straighter, towering over the other slaves, as he waited for her to claim him.

Sparrow walked past him, and his brow furrowed as he stared after her. She started at the far end of the line, glancing over the slaves, pausing in front of some. She took particular interest in a man nearly as tall as Lock, smooth shaven, with short black hair.

I knew it!
He thought, his pulse throbbing.
She doesn’t like the beard after all!

Sparrow moved to the next man, then the next. She paused in front of a yellow-haired slave, extremely muscular, but far too short by Lock’s standards. Still, he had another smooth face.

I’m shaving the wretched thing off!
Lock thought.
And this is all my own fault. She was innocent. I corrupted her. Now I’m going to pay for it
. The thought of her with another man was unbearable!

The yellow-haired slave gave Sparrow an inviting smile, and Lock thought of ways to kill him.

She moved past the man and continued down the line, stopping in front of Lock. She rested her hand against his chest, and he wondered if she felt his pounding heart.

“I guess I’ll take this one.”

“But you have him every night!” Someone called from the crowd. “Try another, Sparrow!”

“No.” She slid her hand under Lock’s vest and ran her nails over his ribs. That single touch made his cock leap in his trousers. She smiled. “I’m attached to this one.”

“That wasn’t funny,” Lock said.

“Had you worried, did I?”

“I hope you two plan on staying in the barn again,” Shea-Ann said as Lock took Sea Storm from her, “because I have no intention of sleeping in a bed beside you if you plan on humping all night.”

“That’s why we want to settle elsewhere,” Lock told her. “Why don’t you try finding yourself someone to hump, if any man will have you.”

“It would be the ride of his life, boy!” Shea-Ann hissed.

“Are you two ever going to get along?” Sparrow sighed.

“Not bloody likely,” Lock and Shea-Ann replied in unison. They exchanged an annoyed look.

“I have to go back to my work,” Shea-Ann said, poking a finger at Lock. “And don’t be bothering me anymore with nonsense.”

The healer headed back to the village square, leaving Lock and Sparrow to cool down Sea Storm with a walk over the meadows.

* * * * *

In the village square, Sparrow and Lock brought Sea Storm to the stable, rubbed him down, and left him to rest while they collected the prizes from the race. The fisherwoman allowed Sparrow to leave her winnings at her cart until the gathering ended.

Once they’d stacked the blankets, boots, and fruit next to a barrel of oysters, the couple bought a jug of cider from one of the carts and sat under a tree to drink it. Sparrow uncorked the jug and took a long swallow, then passed it to Lock. She noted his eyes strayed to a group of children playing tag, and he smiled.

“This is a nice place for children to grow up,” he said. “Not like SeaSpider Island.”

“Maybe if your mother hadn’t treated you so badly.”

He shrugged and took another drink. “More than likely her mother treated her the same. Life in the Archipelago is like trying to swim with chains on your feet. No matter how you struggle, you’re going to sink.”

“Then maybe it’s good you’re not there anymore.”

“Maybe. I know it’s good because I found you.” He placed a hand to the back of her neck and kissed her.

“Not even waiting until tonight, Sparrow?” the blacksmith called as she strode toward them and dropped onto the grass. “Can’t say I blame you. It’s a wonder you’re able to keep up with your farm work. He looks like he could keep a woman busy all night.”

“If you want a man so badly, why don’t you find one of your own?”

“Can’t be bothered with that.” The blacksmith waved her hand. “Then you have to feed and clothe them. But, I suppose I could get plenty of work out of the right man. In my bed all night and in my stable all day…Might wear him out fast, though. Are you sure you don’t want to rent this one for a night? I wouldn’t let him get away. I’ve got some good, strong chains in my stable. He’d be a sight, bound to my wall.”

Sparrow stood. “Come with me, Lock.”

The blacksmith chuckled. “I think he liked my idea, Sparrow. I saw a glimmer in those demon eyes.”

“He always looks that way when he’s plotting someone’s death,” Sparrow said, grasping Lock’s wrist and walking back to the village.

“That woman is disgusting!” Sparrow said.

He smirked. “She wants my body. Can’t blame her for that.”

“And you are incorrigible! I don’t want any woman getting your body except me!”

“Then why don’t we go home and you can collect your prize before the hag—I mean Shea-Ann—finishes her rounds?”

Sparrow glanced at him, the cider making her head pleasantly dizzy. She noted he didn’t seem affected in the least, but the Goddess knew what he must have drank on that pirate ship of his.

“Why not?” she said. “Few more sips of this, and I’ll bed you right here.”

He slipped the jug from her hand. “A few more sips of that, and you’ll be too drunk to enjoy me.”

“You arrogant bull!” she snarled, grasping the front of his shirt. She bit his lower lip and licked it. “Don’t ever change, Lock.”

As they collected their belongings and Sea-Storm from the square, the sound of singing and music echoed through the village. The scent of bonfires and cooking food wafted on the air. Still, Sparrow couldn’t wait to get home and make love with Lock.

While he saddled Sea-Storm and placed half the supplies on him, leaving the other half for Shea-Ann’s mount, Sparrow leaned against a stall, her eyes raking his long legs and muscled arms. She approached, stumbled into the horse, and giggled.

“Good thing you didn’t drink that stuff before the race.” Lock hoisted her onto the stallion and mounted behind her, taking the reins. “You’d have gotten yourself killed for sure.”

“You’re the one who flung me on the horse and forced me into the race!”

“And you had a great time, didn’t you?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him and wrinkled her nose as she smiled. “Yes, but I’m going to have a better time tonight.”

He shook his head, and though he didn’t smile, she saw laughter in his eyes. “If you don’t fall into a drunken stupor before then. You didn’t even drink that much, Sparrow.”

“I’m not drunk!” She reached behind her and grasped his cock.

“Stop that, before we both fall off.”

She gave him a squeeze. “Maybe I’m a little fuzzy-headed.”

“A little?”

“Um,” she leaned against him, her eyes slipping shut as the horse plodded toward home. She lazily stroked Sea Storm’s neck. “He’s such a good horse, Lock. You did wonderfully training him.”

“You’re the one who bought him from that sorry excuse for a horse trader.”

“The man was a vicious fool,” Sparrow murmured, nearly asleep.

The last thing she remembered was Lock lifting her from Sea Storm and tucking her into bed.

Sparrow awoke to a hand shaking her shoulder. She blinked, still a bit groggy from the cider, and focused on Lock.

“Get up, girl. Bad storm’s coming.”

Sparrow’s eyes opened wide and she glanced at Shea-Ann who was tossing food into a bag. The older woman glanced at Sparrow. “Better listen to him. The winds are almost powerful enough to knock you off your feet. We have to get to the cave. Lock’s already brought the animals except for Sea Storm and my horse.”

Sparrow was on her feet before Shea-Ann finished talking. She rushed to the window and glanced out at the dark, churning sky. “By the Goddess, we haven’t had such a storm in years.”

“Let’s go,” Lock ordered, taking the bag from Shea-Ann and heading for the door. Sparrow dragged on her boots and cloak and followed Lock outside. The force of the wind nearly took her breath as she squinted against the icy rain and mounted Sea Storm. They hurried across the field to the caves that many villagers used during emergencies. She noticed some people disappearing into the mossy entrances, and she, Lock, Shea-Ann, and their horses stepped into the cave they’d claimed as their own. Farm animals scattered nervously about the torch lit inside while outside the storm howled.

“Going to be a long night.” Lock squeezed out his wet hair. “I’ll be surprised if there’s anything left to go home to once this ends.”

“We’ve been through storms before,” Shea-Ann said. “Surely it won’t be that bad.”

“I hope not, but I’ve seen storms in every part of the world. This won’t be good. You’d best prepare those remedies of yours, old woman. After this, I’m sure your skills will be needed.”

“I pray you’re wrong,” Sparrow murmured.

“So do I,” Lock admitted.

Sparrow lay on a blanket beside Lock, her cheek resting against his chest. Even with the comfort of his arm around her, she still jumped at the ferocious claps of thunder. Strong winds blew rain through the mouth of the cave, causing the animals to press closer to them. Shea-Ann lay beside them, wrapped in blankets, but Sparrow saw that she didn’t sleep any better than the rest of the cave’s inhabitants.

By morning, Sparrow drifted into a light sleep. She awoke as Lock disentangled himself from her and walked outside.

Sparrow and Shea-Ann followed.

“Goddess help us,” Sparrow murmured, her eyes sweeping the torn countryside. In the distance, uprooted trees scattered across the rain-soaked fields. Slowly, people emerged from the surrounding caves, all staring at the results of the storm.

“I wonder if there’s anything left of our house and the village?” Sparrow asked.

“Looks like you were right,” Shea-Ann said to Lock.

He didn’t speak, but began gathering the animals.

When they returned home, both the house and the barn were destroyed, roofs ripped apart, walls fallen in.

“This will take weeks to rebuild,” Sparrow said as they stepped through the rubble.

Sparrow’s two young farm hands raced across the field.

“Shea-Ann, we need you in the village. People were injured during the storm,” Emerald panted.

“I’ll get my supplies,” Shea-Ann said.

“How bad is the damage in the village?” Sparrow asked the girls.

“There’s nothing left. Someone went to Begonia for help, but they’re unable to send any. The city is damaged as well, sections of the palace included. There’s no one to help us rebuild.”

“We’ll do it ourselves,” Sparrow said. “We’ve always done for ourselves.”

“We haven’t many builders,” Emerald said.

“We haven’t
any
builders,” said Shea-Ann, who had returned with her bag of healing supplies. She mounted her horse.

“I’ll go to the village with you.” Lock reached for Sea Storm. “I’ve had experience building. Storms like this are common in the Archipelago.”

“But you’re leaving.” Shea-Ann cast him a bitter look. “You and Sparrow.”

“We can’t leave with the village like this.” Sparrow met Lock’s eyes. “We can’t.”

“We won’t.” He glanced at the young village girls. “Can you two ride bareback?”

The children nodded, and he helped them onto Sparrow’s farm horse then he mounted Sea-Storm.

“Maybe if you help them in the village, they’ll help us out here,” Sparrow said, slipping onto Sea Storm and holding Lock’s waist. “You can’t go to town alone. You’re still considered a slave.”

As the girls had said, the village was almost completely destroyed. Only a couple of cottages and the blacksmith shop still stood.

“This is hopeless!” Sparrow heard someone say as she dismounted.

“We’ll never rebuild before winter.” The fisher woman approached Sparrow and Shea-Ann. “Even my boat sunk in the dock.”

Lock strode through the debris. “We need to get organized. You!” He pointed to a group of male slaves standing with their mistresses. “Start sorting through this dung heap and see what wood is salvageable. You women bring us tools and wagons which weren’t ruined.”