The Sword and the Sorcerer (10 page)

“Dates! Good God, man, bring me some
beef
!I’m no bird!”

“As you wish,
sir,”
Craccus said, sarcastically. “Just a leg? Or shall I bring you a whole cow?”

Talon was amused and impressed by this much smaller man’s pluck. “A leg will do.”

Before he left, Craccus turned conspiratorially toward Alana, ignoring Talon. “Word is being passed.”

Alana nodded and watched her rescuer guzzle down a jackful of wine in one hearty gulp. He was obviously a man who enjoyed his senses and probably indulged them at every opportunity—all of them. She was intrigued by the steel brace that formed a gauntlet on his hand but didn’t think it was appropriate to ask him about it now.

“You Eh-Danians know good wine,” he said, smacking his perfectly carved lips.

“I didn’t bring you here to get drunk.”

“Why
did
you bring me here?”

“We may need your services.”

“Who’s we?”

“The rebels. My brother is the leader of the revolution.”

“And who sits on your throne?” For the time being he thought it best to play totally ignorant of what was happening in the kingdom of Eh-Dan.

“Cromwell the Usurper. Eleven years ago he wiped out good King Richard and his whole family.”

Talon acted as if he were wholly engrossed in draining the dregs of the wine, hoping to conceal the tumult the mention of his murdered father had at once stirred in him.

Craccus returned with a huge plate of still sizzling ribs and contemptuously dropped it in front of Talon and left.

Talon proceeded to attack his plate with a rapaciousness Alana had never seen in a man before. There was something almost sexual in the way he wolfed down the food. She should be thinking of her brother, period. Yet she found herself getting aroused watching his strong white teeth tear at the juicy meat, with glimpses of his long red tongue lapping the food particles from his lips. She shook her long dark hair, as if to banish these thoughts from her head. She had better get back to the business at hand.

“What brings you to Elysium?”

He flashed a wicked smile. “I haven’t had a woman in weeks.”

At least he was honest. “Look, I’ll get to the point. I believe you to be a freebooter for hire. Am I right?”

He acted as if he hadn’t heard the question, all the while boldly marking the peeks of bare shoulders her tattered cloak afforded, even as he chomped away on another rib. Sensualist that he obviously was, perhaps the quickest way to get him to talk was to appeal to his carnality.

She assumed what she hoped was her most provocative smile and sexiest voice. “I like the way you handled the Klaws back there. You’re strong and quick. Is your
sword
for hire?” she asked, infusing the word with a double meaning.

His eyebrows arched and he smiled too. “Depends.”

“I would pay a handsome price for it.”

“If the price is right, my lady, my
sword
is yours!”

Alana rose half-way off the bench to inspect his waist and then sat down. “I don’t see your sword. Do you even have one?”

He was grinning wickedly.

“Don’t worry. I have one. And it is huge and made of the finest, hardest material.”

“The bigger the better,” she quipped, beginning to enjoy the erotic word game they were playing. “What type is it, curved or straight?”

“Straight, with a very thick hilt.”

“And you handle it well?”

“Very well. My strokes are straight and true.”

“Oooohhh!” she exclaimed, puckering her lips. “Sounds awesome!”

“Believe me, it is. It goes deep and draws the proper cries.”

Alana felt herself flush even as she uttered the next words. “I should like to see it.”

Talon’s blood coursed hot through his veins. “I’ll show it to you in private quarters. Is there a room or actable nearby?”

He reached across the table for her hand but she coyly pulled it away. The game was getting too serious. “Not so fast—please!”

“But my sword is poised!” he exclaimed, and to accentuate his condition he rocked the table with his knees.

The table’s movements and the dire need on the handsome rogue’s face made her laugh. “You are bold, sir, but nothing is free. First the task at hand.”

Talon abandoned any hope of a quick tumble in the hay and settled down to the business at hand. He had been foolish to get all worked up in the first place. Surely with her brother’s pending execution she had more pressing matters on her mind than a hasty joust with him. But tomorrow, or the next day, or next month, sooner than later he had to have her. No woman had ever stirred him to such depths of feeling and desire. Every fiber of his being craved to be fused with this lovely damsel. And he would never be content again until he felt her long legs wrapped around him.

“All right, then, fair lady. What do you want? A throat or two cut?”

“I want you to rescue my brother.”

“And the pay?” He was still not ready to let Alana know that his interest in her brother’s plight or the rebels’ cause was anything but mercenary.

“Two hundred talents.”

“That’s not what I had in mind.” He leveled his eyes at her breasts again. Even under the heavy cloak they jutted forward with her nipples clearly defined.

She pretended they were still discussing money. “All right, then—five hundred.”

Let her think he was a scoundrel. He wanted her at any price. And if she did not lust for him the way he did for her, he was willing to swallow his pride and take her as payment. Either way, he had to have her. “Stop playing games,” he chided. “You know what I want.”

It would be too immodest at this point in their budding relationship to let him know she too ached to have their naked loins pressed together. So she feigned an attitude of great sacrifice and sighed. “All right. Anything you wish, if it will save my brother. But only one night!”

Which could just possibly lead to forever, he mused. That settled, he now geared himself for fulfilling his part of the bargain. “Where is this brother of yours?”

“In Cromwell’s dungeons.”

Talon shook his head, incredulous at the girl’s audacity. “You want me to snatch your brother from the king’s dungeons? And only for one night with
you
?” he teased. Better not to let her know he wanted her too much. Let a woman know you desired her and you gave her power greater than the mightiest of swords. “Slim bounty for such a risk, I say.”

If she permitted him to get away with talking to her like that he’d think she was a whore. “You dolt!” she snarled, slapping him across the face.

Talon roared with laughter. She had fire as well as beauty. The slap only made him want her more. “All right, then! The life of your brother for one night!”

Before Alana could avert the move he reached across the table and cupped her face in his huge hands. And the gentleness she felt in them thrilled her even more than his roughness.

“I expect my bounty perfumed and prettied,” he said, but tenderly.

She smiled, aware that she was looking forward to the night when she would fulfill her end of the bargain even more than he was.

Suddenly Craccus rushed to their table, killing the tender mood that had enveloped them.

“My lady! Fifty of our people have been trapped in Skull Cave by General Sades and his Red Dragon Archers!”

Alana was beside herself. “Is there any way to help them?”

“No, my lady. None. No one can save them now.”

“But we can’t stand by while they’re butchered!”

She turned to Talon.

“How about you? Can you think of anything or do anything?” She was desperate and his cool, lofty manner in the light of this terrible development was beginning to irk her.

Over the rim of his drinking jack Talon peered at Alana, then Craccus and then back to Alana. He couldn’t be sure Craccus wasn’t secretly in league with Cromwell. And for him to appear to be too willing to tackle the rebels’ problems might make someone think he had a personal interest in their cause besides money. He slammed the jack down on the table, feigning anger and accidentally spilling wine on Alana’s cloak. “Uds blood, woman! What do you take me for? Some mushbrained jackass?”

Surprisingly, Craccus appeared to take his side. “It would be madness to send a hundred men, my lady, let alone one.”

“To risk his life is his profession!”

“Risk,”
Talon retorted, “not throw it away!”

“What’s the matter, warrior,” she mocked, “sword not big enough?”

He had already decided to do what he could to save the men. But he wanted to see to what lengths she was willing to go to enlist his services. “And what am I to be paid for
this
small chore?”

“I’m paying you enough for a thousand such tasks!” she snapped.

“You talk a good game, fair lady. I hope you can perform as well!” He couldn’t help laughing at his own joke.

Alana tilted her pretty chin defiantly in his direction and said, “You are vulgar, sir!”

When Talon perceived her eyes moistening and he realized how much she was hurting over the trapped men, his entire demeanor softened.

“All right, Alana. I’ll rescue your rebels.”

Her face beamed. “And my brother too?”

“But these are impossible tasks for any one man!” Craccus cried.

“Quiet, Craccus!” She stared at the self-assured Adonis sitting across from her, wholly confused about her feelings for him. “Well, sir?”

Next to avenging his family, suddenly giving Alana hope became the most important goal in his life. “I will retrieve both your brother and the rebels. I promise you that.”

“It’s suicide!” Craccus shrieked.

“Please, Craccus!”

Talon rose to his full height, walked around the table to Alana and, before she could protest, wrapped his arms about her tiny waist and lifted her off the ground. Just as unexpectedly he clamped his open mouth over hers and began to passionately kiss her. At first she tried to pull her head away but when she felt his hard tongue inside her mouth her resistance melted, and she found herself sucking on his tongue as if it were a delicious plum.

With Craccus watching, aghast by the barbarian’s boldness and even more unhinged by the fair Alana’s fervid responses, the kiss must have lasted a full minute. Finally the giant lowered her to her feet and released her. Embarrassed by this unprecedented display of wantonness—never in her life had she behaved this way!—she backed away from him on rubbery legs, averting his piercing blue eyes.

“I wanted a taste of your lips before being sent to my grave,” he jested.

Alana lifted her head and their eyes locked. As their gazes united in intimate promises, she had the overwhelming feeling of familiarity, as if they had been lovers in an another life. He gave her another lascivious smile but it was not without tenderness and concern. Who was this irresistible enigma? A man who in so short a time had scrambled her brains and her still tremulous senses?

Before she could answer her own question, Talon strode swiftly out of the tavern into the darkness outside.

“Brash hulk,” Craccus said, bringing her back to the present and the dreadful crisis the rebels were in. “Who is he, anyhow?”

“I don’t know, Craccus. He never even told me his name.”

“Be wary of that one, my lady. His kind is the most dangerous, for he clearly fears nothing.”

What Craccus said was probably true. Yet she had perceived a tenderness and vulnerability behind the handsome mercenary’s brash manner. Or was she merely seeing in him what she herself felt toward him?

“At least you won’t have to worry about paying your debt,” Craccus continued. “He’ll not live to see the sunrise.”

What he didn’t know was how much she wanted to pay it. And she prayed to God Craccus’ lugubrious prediction did not come to pass!

Alana suddenly remembered that underneath the cloak tightly wrapped around her she was still bare. “Craccus, can you fetch me one of your wife’s robes? I will reward her later.”

“Of course, my lady. Follow me.”

He started to lead her toward his private quarters when the front door burst open, vomiting into the tavern a cadre of Klaws brandishing lances and swords.

“Out the back way!” Craccus shouted to Alana, as he whipped a dagger out from under his stained apron. “Run, my dear lady—and long live the cause!”

No sooner had the gesticulating innkeeper with the buzzards face shouted his proclamation of freedom than the nearest Klaw ran his long lance clean through Craccus’ puny chest, releasing a fountain of blood very much the color of the wine he served. And while four more Klaws slaughtered the two half-drunk and half-asleep rebels before they realized what had happened, another pair of soldiers grabbed Alana and carried her through the shattered door into the night, as she kicked and screamed in a hopeless effort to get free.

TEN

bout three miles from Elysium’s harbor, on a lonely beach where the mountains tumbled into the sea, was Skull Cave, big enough and deep enough to house a herd of elephants. It derived its name from the peculiar configuration of boulders surrounding its entrance. As one approached Skull Cave along the beach or from the sea it resembled a grinning human skull. Because of its forbidding appearance and rumors of it being the site where demons, witches and the spirits of the dead lurked, Eh-Danians on the whole kept a respectable distance from it. But on this particular night there was more taking place at the cave than anyone had ever witnessed.