Pathfinder's Way (51 page)

The one thing missing was Fallon. Shea moved
further into the room, not seeing him anywhere. He couldn’t still
be at last night’s campsite. Though dawn was barely gone, Fallon
didn’t strike Shea as the type to sleep in.

The guard had indicated he was here as
well.

Slowly, her eyes were drawn to the partition
that hid his sleeping quarters.

She rolled her eyes up at the ceiling,
questioning her luck. Procrastinating wouldn’t help and would only
delay the inevitable. Might as well get it over with.

Shea moved closer to the partition and called
out softly, “Fallon?”

She tilted her head slightly, listening for
an answer. All she heard was the faint splash of water.

Louder, she called, “Fallon?”

“I’m back here.”

Shea glared at the partition. Of course he
was. She didn’t want to go back there. For her continued peace of
mind, not to mention her new vow to treat him as an enemy and not a
man she found attractive, she wanted to stay on this side of the
partition.

“Did you need anything?” She cringed as the
words left her mouth. Just what he needed, a perfect opening.

“A plate of food.”

Thankful for the temporary reprieve, Shea
busied herself selecting a few pieces of the meat, two biscuits and
a handful of the berries. Once the plate was complete, she faced
the same prospect as earlier.

Holding the plate of food, she hesitated at
the entrance to Fallon’s sleeping chamber. “Are you sure you don’t
want to eat at the table?”

“Get in here already,” came the forceful
reply.

Shea grimaced at the slight edge to his voice
even while she stepped past the partition. Her eyes were drawn
immediately to where Fallon reclined in the water. His head was
propped back on a folded towel and both arms were resting on either
side of the bath.

She stopped several feet from him and held up
the plate of food. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I just
guessed.”

Her eyes kept wanting to stray to where the
water distorted the view of his hard body. Even distracted as she
was, she braced for the interrogation she knew was coming. She’d
already thought up a dozen excuses as to why she left his arms
before dawn. She had no doubt he would think their previous
intimacy was a reason to continue in the same vein.

“Bring it here. You’ll have to feed it to me.
As you can see, my hands are a bit wet.” He lifted his hands out of
the water as if to prove his words true.

The slight smile and the challenge in his
eyes dared her to argue.

Shea fought back a growl. She’d be damned if
she’d react the way he expected her to. If he thought she was too
shy to function around a naked man, he was wrong. She’d beat him at
his game and show him his body held no appeal.

Her chin jutted bullishly, she stepped
forward and knelt. Water soaked into the knees of her pants.

“What would you like to start with?” Shea
asked.

“The meat.”

Shea picked up a strip of the ham and held it
out to him. He jerked his head back.

“Bite size pieces. I don’t want any of it
dropping into my water.”

Her promise to herself that she would keep
her patience and her mouth shut already seemed impossible. Quickly,
she tore the meat into smaller pieces and then shoved a piece
toward Fallon’s face. Anything to get this experience over faster.
He caught her wrist before she could knock him in the face and then
held it as he slowly pulled the meat from her fingers, swiping them
with his tongue to clean off any of the juices.

Shea felt an answering tug deep inside as
tingles raced outwards from the skin he’d licked. Not allowing
herself to dwell on the feeling, she tugged her hand free making a
point of wiping her fingers on her sleeve before picking up the
next piece.

He smiled at her, not offended at her
actions.

“Tell me, what duties have you been given?”
Fallon asked.

Shea repeated what she had been told that
morning, finishing by saying, “So basically, I’m supposed to stick
by your side to fulfill whatever needs you may have.”

As soon as the last words left her mouth, she
wanted to pull them back. The wicked glint in his eyes told her all
she needed to know about what he was thinking.

Instead of clarifying what she had said,
knowing that would only make things worse, she pinched off a chunk
of biscuit and shoved it into his mouth.

Once he swallowed, he informed her wryly, “I
think that’s enough food for now.”

Shea nodded, glad this particular torture was
over and stood.

“If you could grab the towel for me.”

Shea stiffened and forced herself to set the
plate gently on a stool before making her way over to the bed to
grab the carefully folded towel. The towel was plush and soft under
her fingers and smelled clean and fresh.

Even caught up with the urge to rub her face
back and forth against its softness, she heard the slosh of water
as Fallon stood. Once again she turned her eyes to the ceiling as
her hands tightened on the towel in a death grip. Why, oh why.

Her willpower could only take so much.

“I’d like the towel while there is still
something to dry off.”

He was just a man and if his previous actions
were to go by, he wasn’t going to jump on top of her to have his
wicked way. No, he was going to seduce her and given her heightened
awareness of him, that wouldn’t be too hard.

He was just a man, Shea told herself. She’d
seen plenty of naked ones during her time as both a pathfinder and
a scout. He had the same equipment. It was just arranged a little
nicer than most.

This body, unlike those she’d seen on the
trail, belonged to Fallon. She had intimate knowledge of its
attributes.

Not letting her thoughts progress any further
down that path, Shea turned. Her face burned as she glared in the
vicinity of his face. She crossed the few steps she needed and
tossed the towel towards him.

He caught it one handed and wrapped it around
his waist as he stepped out of the bath.

“Will that be all?” Shea asked, clinging to
her dignity.

“For now, but don’t leave the tent. I will
have need of you soon.”

Shea sketched a half bow as she’d seen others
in his guard do and retreated to the other side of the
partition.

Shea fidgeted as she waited for Fallon to
finish dressing. She walked from one end of the chamber to the
other.

She had finished one circuit when a man
ducked past the tent flap from outside.

“Witt.” Shea still couldn’t quite believe
it.

Her eyes went past him, remembering that Paul
had been with him last time, but he was alone.

“Shea,” he said softly. His feelings were
hidden and he stayed near the entrance.

Some of the relief she felt at his entrance
faded. She laced her hands behind her back and moved to the middle
of the room. With a reluctance she hadn’t expected from him, he
joined her, stopping only a few feet away.

“I had hoped you and the others would have
been able to escape safely,” she told him.

“The Trateri came for us as we were escaping.
Dane and the rest got away safely. Paul and I were caught.”

The silence between them became awkward after
his explanation. Had it always been this way? She remembered he’d
always been quiet. She had been too, but they’d had things to talk
about anyway.

“I would have thought you’d have made it back
to the Highlands long before now,” Witt told her.

She shrugged. “I meant to. Something just
always came up.”

That was the worst answer. How could he
understand from that?

“Witt,” Fallon said before she could explain
further. “Join me for breakfast. We’ll go over your intel as we
eat.”

Witt waited until Fallon was seated at the
head of the table before taking his own seat.

Shea fidgeted as she tried to figure out what
she was supposed to do with herself. Somehow she didn’t think she
was supposed to join them at the table, and standing like an idiot
in the middle of the room didn’t seem right either.

Finally, with no idea what to do she took up
a position beside Fallon’s left shoulder. She thought she
remembered one of the other guards doing that.

Witt gave Shea a pointed look. She gave him a
shrug. She had no idea what he was trying to tell her.

In response he looked at the food and then
Fallon, repeating it several times before she caught the hint.

Fallon waited with both his arms resting on
either side of his setting, staring pointedly down at the empty
spot where the food was supposed to be. Well, shoot. Evidently, she
was supposed to be serving him.

Since she had brought him a plate of food in
the bath, she hadn’t realized that he would want to eat again with
Witt.

Moving quickly she picked up his plate and
filled it with another assortment of food. Figuring he would be
less hungry given the activities of earlier, she chose a lighter
fare that featured several of the fruits with a few pieces of the
smoked sausage links.

Her stomach growled angrily as she set the
plate down in front of Fallon. The smell of food tempted her
appetite.

Shea stepped back to her previous position
and clasped her hands behind her back. She knew if she left them by
her sides she’d be fidgeting in no time. At least if they were
behind her back no one could see them move.

A throat was cleared, drawing her attention
back to the duo at the table. This time Witt’s head was bowed while
he stared pointedly at his own placemat.

Shea sighed. Of course he’d need to be fed
too. Didn’t anybody feed themselves?

As she filled his plate, Fallon began
speaking.

“How was your trip north? Did they give you
any trouble up there?”

Witt’s eyes rose briefly toward hers in
acknowledgement as she set his plate down. He dug in, taking
several bites before answering.

“Nothing we couldn’t handle. Two of the
villages decided not to honor their commitments. They were dealt
with quickly and decisively enough that I don’t think others will
follow in their footsteps anytime soon.”

Shea kept her wince inward. Outwardly her
face was flat and disinterested. That probably meant a lot of
bloodshed and most of the able bodied men and women being taken as
cattle, what the Trateri called their slaves.

Oddly enough, villages who fought from the
beginning before being defeated were treated as honored enemies as
long as they didn’t violate the terms of their surrender. The
moment they went back on their word, Trateri justice was swift and
brutal.

“Will they hinder our plans?” Fallon was
asking. Shea had lost the thread of the conversation as she
pondered what roll Witt played for the Trateri. How did he have
enough access to the Warlord to be invited to breakfast? As an
outsider, he should never be in the position of an advisor.

“Doubtful.”

“Good. Gaining a foothold in the Highlands
will be difficult enough. We don’t need the Lowlanders instigating
a rebellion at the same time. We’ll need to keep the supply lines
open.”

Shea felt her heart drop at this news. She’d
thought any action against the Highlands was months away if not a
year.

“Agreed. Resources can be scarce up there and
the problem with beasts will be double what we’ve faced here,” Witt
replied. “We’ll need to be careful of the pathfinders,” he
continued. “They might sound harmless, but they’re the most
organized guild in that land and can forge the Highlanders into one
force. Their weapons beat anything we have, and they know the lay
of the land like they know their own face.”

Shea couldn’t count the covenants Witt was
breaking. If any in the Highlands found out how much he’d just
revealed, he’d be marked as a traitor before being stoned. And
then, just because Highlanders were slightly vindictive, they’d
probably burn him.

“We’ll need to disrupt their communication as
much as possible, then. We’ll choke off their routes and keep
anything or anybody from slipping through. If they can’t talk, they
can’t organize,” Fallon responded.

Impossible. A few hundred horsemen couldn’t
keep a Highland pathfinder from his or her destination. Not when
that pathfinder was in the Highlands.

Both men looked up and nodded briefly as
Caden entered. The conversation continued as Caden grabbed a plate
and began piling it high with food. Once he’d gotten a nice
selection, he sat across from Witt and listened as he slowly
consumed his breakfast.

“Your biggest obstacle is going to be the
mist. Our patrol couldn’t find any way through it. It starts about
five hundred feet from the Highland cliffs. We went up and down
that entire area and no luck. It continues on for miles without
end. I even took a small group into the Badlands, and it’s just as
difficult there. Almost lost a couple of men.”

“We could always try going through it,” Caden
suggested, taking a seat at the table.

Witt leaned back and pinned Shea with his
eyes. “The pathfinder would be the best one to explain why that
would be a bad idea.”

Three sets of eyes trained on Shea. Fallon
even turned in his seat. Shea glared back. She could, but she
wasn’t going to. She had some loyalty still. If they wanted to
brave the mist, they were more than welcome to.

Reading those thoughts in her face, Witt
smiled wryly in acknowledgement before continuing. “When a true
mist shrouds the Highlands, a normal man gets lost, disoriented. If
they’re lucky, they simply wander in circles until it dissipates.
If they’re unlucky, they disappear. Strange things happen during a
true mistfall. You’ll be lucky if a quarter of your men make it to
the other side. What’s more likely is that you’ll become one of the
lost ones.”

“Sounds like the sort of story we use to
scare Daisies,” Caden remarked.