VirtualWarrior (11 page)

Samoht smiled. “And what woman of sense goes onto Nilrem’s
mountain alone? I assume you were alone, as you lost no warriors when you were
attacked.”

Lien watched Ardra. She licked her lips and finally spoke.
“I considered it a pilgrimage of sorts. One cannot approach the wiseman with a
troop of men. It takes from the sacred—”

“You are making excuses for foolishness. A foolish woman may
not rule,” Samoht said.

Einalem smiled. “Please, Samoht, Ardra, stop this. You will
only anger each other and nothing will be accomplished. Might I suggest a
compromise?”

She patted Samoht’s knee as the councilor had done to Ardra.
Lien figured the patronizing gesture pleased him no more than it had Ardra.

“What compromise could possibly—” Samoht began.

“Please you, Brother?” Einalem laughed. Her full breasts
quivered against her silky gown.

“I too suspect that little will please you, Samoht,” Ralen
said. “Ardra is right. Tol’s wishes were clear, but I cannot agree with them.
It is foolish to allow a woman too much—”

“Whoa,” Lien said. “Let’s just hear the compromise.”

“Thank you, pilgrim,” Einalem said. She leaned forward so
that more of her cleavage became visible, and took a drink from her silver
goblet. Her eyes locked on his over the rim. The goblet was so encrusted with
turquoise, he wondered how she could lift it. When she set it down, she licked
her moist, full lips.

“What I propose is simple,” Einalem said, rising. “Ardra
must prove herself before witnesses.”

“Prove myself?” Ardra sat down with a thump next to Lien on
the bench. He stifled an impulse to wrap a comforting arm around her.

“How?” Ralen and Samoht asked at the same time.

Einalem stretched, and Lien thought of a cat well satisfied
with herself. “Set Ardra a task to perform. If she succeeds, she will have her
way—control of the fortress. If not, she will kneel before you, Samoht, and all
the council. She will accept whomever you designate as the protector of the
Fortress of Ravens. In fact,” she smiled, “she will mate again where you bid.
Now, I have much to do. If you will excuse me?”

“Of course.” Samoht rose and bowed to Einalem, who swept
from the tent. “My sister’s plan is magnificent,” he said when she was gone.
“What say you, Ardra?”

Samoht had agreed too fast. Lien knew that some form of this
agreement had been hashed out between brother and sister even before Tol’s
death.

“What can I say—”

“Wait, Ardra,” Lien interrupted. “Don’t agree until you hear
what the task is.”

She took a deep breath and nodded her thanks to him. “Aye.
First I must know how you wish me to prove myself.”

Samoht linked his fingers together. He watched Ardra from
beneath his straight brows. “You may have heard we had a theft from the vaults
beneath Tolemac?”

Ardra nodded. “The Vial of Seduction.”

“In the wrong hands,” Samoht continued, “this potion could be
ill used. An unscrupulous woman might use it against a man of worth, a
councilor even. It is said the Goddess of Darkness has the vial. Find it.
Return it to me.”

“An unscrupulous person cannot use the potion,” Ardra said.

Lien perked up. This was news.

“However,” Samoht said. “If the goddess finds an honorable
person capable of administering the potion, it may bode ill for us all. Will
you seek the Vial of Seduction or not?”

Ralen held up his hand. “Wait, we have been over this
before, Samoht, and you have my report. I have already met with the goddess.
She made no attempt to block my search of her fortress. The tales of her are
greatly exaggerated. There are no serpents guarding the place. She made no
attempts to bewitch me. In fact, the woman could not have been more cordial.”

“She is evil,” Ardra said.

Lien touched her arm. She quivered with some emotion held in
check with great effort.

Samoht dismissed her words with a quick flick of his hand.
“We know ‘tis said she is responsible for your mother’s death, Ardra, but
nothing was ever proved.”

“Regardless,” Ralen continued. “I see little need to seek
the potion with the goddess. If she has it, we will never find it. No surprise
visit will reveal it, nor any amount of persuasion. I was as thorough as possible
with her.”

Samoht nodded. “I like it.” He spoke as if Ralen had said
nothing. “Should Ardra find and return the potion, she will have proved herself
worthy. A marvelous plan.”

One of the Red Rose warriors entered the tent. He was dusty
and carried a leather pouch.

“Ah, you come from Boda?” Samoht asked.

“She is his Selaw mate,” Ardra whispered at Lien’s ear. The
messenger handed Samoht a rolled document, then hurried away. Samoht unrolled
the lengthy parchment, scanned it, then frowned. He turned to Ardra. “I wish
you to take up the challenge. If you do not, we will proceed as I decree.”

Before anyone could make a further objection, Ardra bowed.
“I accept the challenge.”

Samoht dismissed everyone except Ardra. Although Ralen didn’t
seem concerned that Ardra was alone in Samoht’s tent, Lien felt uneasy.

Ardra had been too quick to accept Samoht’s challenge. Lien
wished she had waited. The whole thing looked suspect to him.

He hobbled along with his stick in case anyone was watching.
Where should he go? He headed for the tent with the puffy clouds. It was dimly
lighted by a wick floating in oil.

A pitcher of hot water sat in a brazier. The soap and towels
on the table were a subtle hint that someone ought to wash up.

Lien stripped off his tunic. As he unwrapped the bandages on
his arm and shoulder, he marveled at the fresh, healed skin. He carefully
tucked the leaf Ardra had given him into his boot.

Before the water could cool, he scrubbed the travel dust
from his skin. He plunged his tunic into the water as well, soaped it several
times, and wrung it out.

Outside, he draped the linen shirt over one of the ropes
that held down the tent. He stared toward Samoht’s tent. What was going on in
there?

It was too cold to remain outside half dressed, so he
fetched the fur-lined cloak. It must be about three o’clock in the morning, he
guessed.

He wondered about Ardra’s decision. It wouldn’t have been
his. She might rush toward responsibility, but he, personally, would run in the
opposite direction, kid or no kid.

Samoht’s tent flap opened, and Ardra shot out like a bullet
fired from a gun. After several steps, she slowed to a walk, her chin up, her
shoulders back. She came directly toward him.

He slipped into the tent to wait for her. She threw the flap
back but didn’t see him. She went to the table, planted her hands on the cloth,
and bowed her head. Her shoulders shook. The back of her gown was half unlaced.

It was too late to disappear, and disrespectful to hide his
presence. “Ardra,” he said softly.

She whipped around. “Lien.” Her face shone with tears.

In the next second, she was in his arms. She burrowed inside
his cloak, her wet face hot on his chest. He closed his arms around her and
held his breath. Her body trembled against him.

“What happened?” He tipped her face up. “Tell me.”

She shook her head. He slid his hands down to her shoulders
and walked her backward to the couch, then sat her on the edge.

“He attacked you, didn’t he?” He didn’t wait for an answer,
charging out of the tent.

She ran after him through the camp, grabbing for his cloak.
“Do not, Lien, I beg of you, please.”

Something in her voice made him stop. He rounded on her. She
looked up at him and shook her head. “Please. Not here,” she whispered. She
tugged gently on his cloak. “I beg of you.”

He jerked his cloak from her grasp and turned back to her
tent. Once inside, he threw off the cloak and pointed his finger at her. “Don’t
ever beg.”

She stared at him, eyes wide.

“Forget the roses and my tattoo for a moment and trust me.
What happened?”

“He tried to kiss me.” She didn’t meet his eyes.

“Fine, let’s assume he only kissed you. Then why the tears?
And who unlaced your dress? How can you let that slime get away with—”

“Stop. Let me explain.” She stood up straight, her chin in
the air. “Samoht tried to embrace me, aye, I will not deny that. But to have
you storm in on him and take up my battle will not do me any good. He will see
me as weak, hiding behind a man’s strength.”

“So nothing happens to the bastard?” He shook his head.

“I will take care of him in my time, in my way.”

Lien cupped her face in his hands. “Did he hurt you?”

She looked away, and he knew she was going to lie. “Only my
dignity.”

He skimmed his thumbs over her cheeks, dry now. “Ardra, you
can’t let men maul you and get away with it.”

Did she move first or did he? Her lips were warm, full,
moist. She tasted of wine. She placed her hands on his chest and kneaded his
skin like a kitten kneads a soft blanket.

He whispered against her mouth, “We shouldn’t be doing
this.” Then he thrust his hands into her hair and held her head while he ran
his tongue over hers—again and again.

Each squeeze of his fingers in her silky mane released the
scent of flowers—foreign, seductive, enticing flowers.

She ran her hands up and down his chest and made a throaty
sound. It jerked him out of the moment.

“Ardra. Damn.” He gently set her aside. Her lips were puffy,
her eyes dazed. “We
can’t
do this.”

Then she smiled and touched her fingertips to her mouth. “Do
not fret, Lien. It will not happen again.”

“What are you smiling about?”

“Oh, ‘tis just that I have discovered why he did it.” She
walked briskly to the table, peered into the pitcher, frowned, and rounded on
Lien. “You used my water?”

“Yeah. Sorry. What do you mean, you discovered why he did
it? Who? Discovered what?”

“You look tired.” Ardra tipped her head back and examined
him. He rubbed his chest, and her eyes followed his hand. He dropped it to his
side.

“You didn’t answer my question. Stop staring at me.”

She lifted the pitcher and held it tightly against her
chest. “Forgive me, Lien. I will answer your question. I smiled because I
learned something from you I never knew…that a kiss can be sweet.” She ducked
her head. “And I imagine there is little sweetness in Samoht’s life.”

Lien lifted her chin on the edge of his hand. “Ardra. You
need to understand something. A kiss between two people who want to kiss is far
different from a kiss between two people when one is unwilling. What Samoht did
was wrong.”

“I have found that men believe it their right to copulate
whenever it suits them.”

“Look, Ardra, I can’t speak for Tolemac men, but where I
come from, sex is consensual or it’s a crime.”

“Sex? Crime?” She tipped her head.

“Sex—copulation. Crime—offense for which you get punished publicly.”

“Oh.” She sighed over the empty pitcher. “Can we speak of
this at another time? I am sure that Samoht is plotting something as we speak,
and I need my sleep.”

If she wanted to change the subject, who was he to persist?
“I think Einalem’s compromise sounded a bit—”

“Preplanned? Most likely. If I die as a result of my quest,
Samoht will claim guardianship of my son and the fortress.”

“You don’t seem too concerned,” Lien said.

“Perhaps I am too tired to feel concern.”

He took the pitcher from her and placed it on the table.
When he turned around, she was curled on the couch. “You look too young to rule
a fortress.” Before he could clamp his tongue on the words, they were out of
his mouth.

She was off the bed in an instant. She shook her finger in
his face. “How dare you! I have commanded men far better than you for the last
three conjunctions. I have decided the fate of hundreds of miners, seen to
their families, buried their dead. And I can take care of myself. Samoht will
not sit well in the saddle for several days.” She snapped her fingers in his
face.

Lien wrapped his fingers around her wrist and smiled. “So,
you put a knee in Samoht’s gonads, did you?” He bent his head and kissed her
fingers.

“Gonads?”

“I think you know what I mean.”

She smiled back. “It was not my knee. I used the end of a
candle stand. It was made of iron.”

He kissed her fingers again. “Good girl.”

Her hand flexed, but she didn’t pull away. “Do not call me
girl. Can we do it again?”

“What?”

“Kiss.” She slid her other hand around the nape of his neck.

She had a child but seemed as innocent as a virgin. “You do
know that kisses lead to other things.”

Her hand fell from his neck, and she tucked it behind her
back.

Lien went outside for his tunic. It was only partially dry
from the whipping wind, but he needed the protection from her heated gaze.

She raked him critically after he’d belted the tunic in
place. “Who washed it for you?”

“I did it myself. Just call me laundry man.”

“Men do not do laundry.” She clapped her hands over her face
and laughed.

Her laughter had a manic quality that told him she was way
past exhausted. “Look, you need your sleep.”

She knelt on the couch, tucking her skirts around her feet.
“Aye, but you must leave. It would not do for anyone to think we were copulating
here.”

“Now you’re worried. Sure, Ardra. Just use me and toss me
aside,” he said, but he smiled to let her know he was kidding.

She snapped her fingers. “Tell Ollach I need fresh water.”

He decided there was nothing behind her kiss except a need
to wipe out the one that Samoht had forced upon her.

She snapped her fingers again. “Lien, are you listening?
Please tell Ollach I need fresh water.”

“I forgot to tell you something about finger snapping. Where
I come from, it means you want to have sex—you know, copulate.” Her eyes
widened. “If you snap them like this,” he snapped his fingers twice, quickly,
“it means you want the man right
now
.”

Her mouth formed an O. Lien snatched up his cloak and left
the tent. He figured she’d never snap her fingers at him again.

Sleep eluded Ardra. The taste and feel of Lien’s mouth
ensured that she might not sleep for many moon-risings. Nay, it was not his
mouth, although it was a lovely mouth. It was his dark eyes…the way they had
slowly closed, his black lashes settling on his cheeks. Should she have closed
her eyes too? She knew nothing of kissing.

Kissing led to other things.

Tol had not kissed, and Samoht’s kiss was rough and wet.
Lien’s were like wine—intoxicating.

Where did Lien sleep? Was he cold?

Nay, his skin was very warm, as if he had a brazier and
coals inside him. She imagined what it would be like to lie with him, skin to
skin, and look at him from head to toe. A pulsing sensation in her belly made
her shift uncomfortably on the bed couch. She already knew what he looked like
head to toe.

She must forget him. He was a pilgrim, and she had tempted
him from his vow of celibacy. ‘Twas a shameful thing.

Despite his vows, he had kissed her back and wanted her. “By
Nilrem’s knees,” she swore, and clapped her hands over her eyes to block the
memory of Lien’s desire from her mind. It was not so easily banished.

“He did desire me,” she whispered. She knew it just as she
had known that Samoht wanted to copulate with her. Deleh had told her that men
were easily understood. If they put their hips against you and they were hard,
they wanted you. If not, they didn’t.

She tossed off the furs and coverlet and allowed the chilly
air to bathe her sweaty skin. How could she have such thoughts when she must
see Tol on his final journey?

“Oh, Tol, I shall miss you sorely.” Tears spilled down her
cheeks. She must shed them here, else Samoht or Ralen might think her a
weakling. She thought of Deleh. Tol had been Deleh’s life. Little good fortune
came to concubines of her age. The fortress could remain her home, but even
though she had never complained, Ardra knew that Deleh hated the ice.

“I wish I might have known such a love as theirs.” More
tears ran down Ardra’s face, but as she dashed them away, she acknowledged they
were for herself, not Tol.

Ardra closed her eyes again. The sight of Lien lying naked
on Nilrem’s mountain came to her mind again. She flipped her pillow over and
buried her face in its cool surface. How terrible to imagine a man as he lay
helpless with blood on his skin.

But she could not help it. Liquid heat coursed through
Ardra’s body. Would this strange sensation never stop?

“Ardra, are you awake?” The small girl who stood at the tent
flap held a pitcher nearly as large as she.

Ardra leaped from the bed. “Come in.” She took the pitcher
from the girl. “Have you heard any news?”

“Just that they will see Tol off today. Deleh is not well.
Brokenhearted, she is.”

Ardra washed and dressed quickly. She suffered the girl’s
attentions to her hair so that she might honor Tol, but as soon as the comb was
set aside, Ardra dashed off to find Deleh.

Deleh sat by Tol’s side and looked up when Ardra entered
Tol’s tent. Ardra knew at once that Deleh had been there all night in honor of
her dead lover.

“Should I leave?” Ardra asked.

“Nay, come forward.” Deleh fussed with Tol’s drape.

Ardra hugged Deleh and then knelt for a moment at Tol’s
side. “He lived a good life, did he not?”

“Oh, aye. He worried so about the boy and you. He wished he
could have done more for you.”

“He gave me more than I could have ever dreamed. He gave me
strength. Now I have come to ask you to walk at my side today.”

“At your side?” Deleh held her hand to her breast. “Samoht
will be very angry.”

“But he will say nothing. I suspect he may even excuse
himself from the procession.”

Lien rolled over and groaned. Ollach and Ralen snored a
curiously in-sync chorus on two comfortable-looking chaise lounges. He, on the
other hand, had only a fur between himself and the cold dirt floor of Ralen’s
tent.

Ollach, Lien assumed, was ostensibly a bodyguard so that
Lien wouldn’t murder Ralen in his sleep.

He murdered his lumpy pillow instead and rolled onto his
back. This tent was an unadorned, no-nonsense affair like its owner.

Sleep eluded him. His thoughts arrowed straight to Ardra.
Her innocence intrigued him. Of course, her lifemate had a concubine, so he
imagined that Ardra was often left out in the cold. He stifled a laugh.
Refrigerator Girl was out in the cold.

Actually, he wasn’t going to be able to call her Refrigerator
Girl anymore. She was a warm, seductive woman.

He let his imagination wander. In his mind’s eye, Ardra
smiled as he helped her out of her gown. She stretched out on his fur-lined
cloak. Her perky breasts stood at attention, and so did Mr. Happy. Her amber
eyes opened wide when he finally entered her.