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BOOK: Claire Delacroix
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Wanted Thierry as her husband and the father of her children, Kira did, and now that ‘twas not to be, she dared to fully voice her desire. One man, one woman, as ‘twas ordained to be. And she had thought mayhap...

But nay. Kira had imposed her own beliefs on her perception of the situation and seen only what she wished to see. No promise had Thierry made to her. No more did he seek from her than a man might expect from a whore. A fool she had been to tease herself with other possibilities. Had the Persian woman not made it clear that these Mongols took many wives and held not one above the others? Had she not been warned?

Could this sweet longing she felt to be with Thierry alone be love in a different guise? Well it seemed it shared the same serpent’s bite as her father’s love. Though in truth, the teeth dug deeper this time for all that they did not scar her flesh.

Had she fallen in love with Thierry? If so, it seemed she had gained precisely what she deserved for daring to have faith in tender emotions yet again. Kira dropped to sit on the stone ledge of the window, knowing the truth when she heard it. No sweetness was there in the realization that she loved Thierry as she stared down at the rumpled bag. Only too well could she still see that plumply expensive
aljofar
in her mind’s eye and well Kira knew she would never forget it.

A token for another woman.

A token of Thierry’s regard that she was not destined to wear.

And never would Kira wear one, even as a token of another man’s regard, after bearing a child out of wedlock. No doubt would there be that she was no longer innocent. A life of shame stretched out before Kira and she found she liked the taste of it naught. She stared blindly at the small sack perched in the bag and suddenly realized the folly of what she had done in unpacking his goods.

Nay, she thought wildly. It must be precisely where she had found it. Observant Thierry was beyond belief and he must never know she had seen what he had hidden from her. Kira forced herself to recall the sack’s original position and unsteadily put it back just so, then cast a nervous glance around the room.

Better ‘twould be if Thierry had no idea she had opened the saddlebag. Her hands shook as she folded the blankets but she would not falter in this task. Kira inhaled shakily and choked back her tears as she carefully repacked his belongings. ‘Twas obvious that Thierry had come to the land of the Franks to fetch his bride.

Indeed, it mattered naught whether her belly rounded or not, for he would soon cast her aside, one way or the other. Fretted she had for naught all these nights. Only a matter of time was it before Thierry cast her aside. And whither then? She knew not and could not bear to speculate about raising their child alone.

Despair welled up in Kira’s heart as she completed her task and weak tears spilled over her cheeks unchecked. She dashed at them with her fingertips before she realized the futility of the gesture and sighed raggedly in acceptance of her fate. Would that she had never met Thierry. Would that she were back in Tiflis.

Kira sniffled, then hastily crawled within the comfort of the draped bed, wishing it truly could render her invisible to the world.

* * *

“Tell me not that you have troubles in this paradise,” Nogai commented sardonically. Thierry glanced up from his wine as his friend dropped to sit beside him, and scowled into the red liquid anew.

“Well it seems that I must seek my sire,” he muttered.

Nogai’s brows rose. “First a family, now a sire. Suddenly your kin are being conjured from naught so quickly that I cannot keep a reckoning of them all.” Thierry’s glance slid sidelong but Nogai was innocently draining his own tankard. The Mongol tapped the empty pewter demandingly on the board and grinned when it was promptly filled.

“Fitting it seems that you would be in haste to leave the first decent place we have quartered,” he commented.

“Montsalvat meets with your approval?” Thierry demanded tersely, indicating that his tankard also be filled. Drink aplenty was what he needed this night, for only with oblivion might he escape his memories.

“Aye,” Nogai concluded with satisfaction. “Aim to sleep under the stars this night I do, as is fitting for a man. Have you seen the goats? Sturdy stock have they here and able herdsmen they must be. Even with the liability of this tower, ‘tis an amenable place.”

“Should you like it so well, you will undoubtedly be welcome to remain in my absence,” Thierry responded sourly. He did not bother to acknowledge Nogai’s glance of surprise.

“Truly you mean to leave?”

“I must seek my sire,” Thierry growled.

“Ah.” Nogai took a long draught of wine. “Have you any inkling where he might be?” he asked with apparent idleness.

“Khanbaliq,” Thierry supplied tightly. Nogai choked in a most satisfactory manner.

“Khanbaliq?” he demanded in open astonishment. “Know you how far that is?”

“Aye.” With greater precision than Nogai might guess did Thierry know the distance, for he had traveled it and he suspected Nogai had not. Without the endorsement of the khan, ‘twould take a full year to reach Khanbaliq. And then what? Another year to return to the land of his birth? All to hear a tale he might have been told years past. All to hear a tale that might mean naught.

Or might mean everything. Thierry indulged himself with a venomous glance to the taciturn Eustache, who stubbornly ignored him.

Cursed man. Two years was Thierry to waste over this matter. Yet little choice had he. Thierry’s sense that his destiny hung in the balance and that this tale could tip the scales could not be denied.

“`Aye,’ says he, as though ‘twere no farther than the town below this fortress,” Nogai snorted into his tankard. He fixed Thierry abruptly with a bright eye. “What of Kira?”

“What
of
Kira?”

“Does she ride to Khanbaliq?”

Thierry’s lips thinned. “Kira is my woman,” he said tightly, as though that explained all. And to his mind, it did.

Nogai, however, snorted with undisguised skepticism. “And enchanted will she be with the sight of another ship in such short order, you can be sure,” he commented dryly. Thierry refused to indulge him with a response and the two drank in silence for a long moment.

“Have you considered,” Nogai began finally in a measured tone, “that such a trip might be difficult for one so small as she?”

He would
not
leave Kira behind. ‘Twas unthinkable, and truly Nogai overstepped himself in even suggesting such a thing. Thierry bristled at the very thought and turned a chilling eye on his
anda.

“What do you suggest?” Thierry demanded coldly. Nogai spread his hands carefully.

“Only that it might well be safer for Kira to remain here. Not so strong is she as Mongol women and well might she welcome the opportunity to wait behind such sturdy walls.”

Everything within Thierry clenched at the very idea. Two years without Kira? Impossible. And naught would happen to her on the road—he would personally ensure her safety. Whereas here, who knew what fate might befall her?

“Kira is stronger than you know,” he retorted frostily. Nogai raised his brows but said naught, philosophically taking a sip of his wine instead.

“When do you plan to commence?” he asked mildly some moments later. Thierry drained his tankard and banged it on the board yet again.

“On the morrow, with first light,” he informed his
anda
tightly. “Well it seems that time is of the essence.”

“Aye,” Nogai responded with an easy grin. “Imperative ‘tis that I should have some decent
qumis
in short order, instead of this thin swill that passes for drink in these parts.” He drained his tankard, showing no trouble in swallowing the “swill,” before he banged it on the board with a roar and a wink.

Chapter Fourteen

N
ot reassuring at all was the fact that Thierry did not return.

Kira curled alone under the coverlet within the secure embrace of the draped bed and watched darkness descend over the room. Thierry did not come. Raucous sounds rose from the hall below, their volume increasing as time passed with aching slowness and still Thierry did not come. The smell of the meat reached a peak and faded away to naught, yet no tread of a foot in the hall outside did Kira discern.

She huddled deeper within the blanket’s warmth and wrapped her arms around her stomach, as though she would comfort her fledgling babe. Alone they were, and they had best become accustomed to that fact. Indeed, Kira might not even have the bed to hide within once Thierry discovered her state. An expensive indulgence it must be and she could not imagine that one would waste such richness on a pregnant concubine.

But what choice had she other than to stay? No coin had she with which to smooth her way back. And where would she go? Back to Tiflis? Indeed, she could not imagine that her sire would even welcome her there should she arrive with her belly swollen with child and no husband in tow.

The
aljofar
had value.

The traitorous thought held a certain appeal, though Kira’s ethics rose in instant denial. She nibbled her lip in indecision. Did she dare?

Recollection of precisely who had compromised her had her flying out across the room and rummaging in Thierry’s saddlebags. Tears pricked Kira’s eyes as the gem tumbled out into her palm, but she resolutely blinked them away. Precisely how much value did the pearl carry? Was it indeed worth betraying the man she had grown to trust, however mistakenly?

Kira closed her eyes and placed the gem on her tongue.

Sweet. She stifled a curse and spat the pearl out with disgust.

A plague on the man for buying such a good gem! She cast the necklace away from her, not caring where it fell. How could he manage such a feat?
Naught
did Thierry know of pearls and yet he still acquired an exquisite
aljofar
for his bride. Unfair ‘twas, and her indecision rose yet higher at the evident value of the piece. Kira stalked irritably across the room and back to cast an accusatory eye over the pearl. The gem winked innocently in the light cast by the moon where its chain had snagged on the saddlebag.

‘Twas worth good coin, that cursed pearl. Kira crossed the room reluctantly to lift it from its perch and let it swivel slowly from its chain before her. Good coin. Coin enough mayhap to buy passage to Constantinople. The gem gleamed invitingly as though it would tempt her to make the choice, but Kira shook her head and heaved a sigh.

‘Twould be wrong. She could not do it. Thierry had parted with hard-earned coin to acquire a worthy gift for his bride and no place had she to intervene. The
aljofar
was not hers to take, one way or the other. Kira was but a whore who had made the mistake of conceiving, and well would she have to bear the burden of her error alone. She slipped the pearl slowly back into the small sack and replaced the entirety within the saddlebag.

Naught had she but the garments on her back and her own resources. Precious little they seemed indeed to see a way for herself and a babe, but somehow Kira knew she would ride the storm.

And as long as she could, she would keep Thierry’s protection.

Even if he could grant her naught else.

* * *

‘Twas with the first light of the dawn that Thierry crept up the stairs. Not too drunk was he to have forgotten that Kira had not eaten, though admittedly he had recalled the fact rather late. His steps were rather more unsteady than he expected as he made a swerving path down the corridor, offering in hand. He scowled even as he wondered whether Nogai had spoken aright.

Had they been so long without
qumis
that they were less than they had been? Nogai had fallen asleep on the board from the red wine, and well enough did Thierry know ‘twas not his wont.

Was Kira making them both soft?

The twinge of guilt Thierry felt when he nudged open the door and found the room within silent did naught to reassure him. Not even Kira’s breathing could he discern and well he knew that his hearing was better than that.

Impossible that he was becoming an urban man. Impossible that he could not carry his
qumis.
Impossible that he could not discern the sound of a sleeping woman’s breathing when she lay so close. Thierry stalked into the room in poor humor and fairly dropped the crockery of stew onto the table by the hearth so that it clattered noisily. Let Kira see the fullness of the man she had chosen. He burped fruitily, amplifying the sound with satisfaction.

Naught stirred.

‘Twas disconcerting. Fear rose within him and he wondered suddenly if Kira inexplicably might have abandoned him. No reason had she, but still the room was too quiet. Thierry spun around in panic and surveyed his surroundings, finding his saddlebags precisely as he had dropped them.

Not a good sign was that. Indeed, it appeared that naught had stirred since his departure and the matter did not sit well. Thierry’s eyes narrowed as he found no sign of Kira, and his gaze landed on the bed. ‘Twas the only place where Kira could be concealed and he strode across the room and ripped open the drapes.

Time ‘twas they were on the road to seek his sire, and he told himself that ‘twas that impatience alone that fueled his anxiety.

Kira slept curled in a tight ball. Little cat. Thierry released his breath slowly in relief and forced his fingers to loosen their grip on the drapes. He stood and gazed upon her, unaware of the smile that transformed his features as he leaned against the bedpost.

His Kira. Thierry’s heart wrenched at the fragility of her. So tiny she was. Her breathing was soft enough that he fancied she barely breathed at all. No wonder he had not heard her, for she made virtually no sound. Only too well did he recall her illness on the ship, and the hand that would have urged her awake froze mid-gesture.

Was Nogai right? Would he threaten Kira’s health by taking her on a journey that was sure to be arduous? Thierry reached out one tentative fingertip and gently smoothed the hair back from her temple. He admired the luscious sweep of her dark lashes upon her cheek and found his fingers trailing over her skin in a caress.

How could he bear to be without her for two years?

There was not just Kira’s health to consider, though. Only too well did Thierry recall the gleam in men’s eyes when they had looked upon her, and his hand clenched involuntarily. They could be set upon by bandits on the long road to Khanbaliq. Kira could be hurt. Worse, she could be raped or even killed.

How could Thierry live with himself should he be responsible for bringing her to such a fate? How could he bear to see her hurt?

What if something should befall him and she was left alone with Nogai? Would Nogai protect her? Thierry hoped so in the same moment he prayed Nogai would not see fit to claim his strong yet delicate little cat for his own.

Was that not the Mongol way? Thierry’s gut twisted in indecision and he paced impatiently across the room. No sooner had he put distance between them than he was drawn back to gaze down at her as though she kept him on an invisible lead.

Witch, he thought affectionately, tempted by the luscious swell of her rosy lips. He sat carefully on the side of the bed and leaned over her, fancying that she sensed his presence when she immediately turned toward him.

What if some evil fate befell both Nogai and Thierry, leaving Kira truly alone?

Thierry’s gut went cold and he shoved to his feet, the thought sobering him more than two nights’ sleep. Had not old Eustache pledged his hand to Thierry’s family? Would that old knight not see Kira protected? And safer she would be here, within the walls of the fortress Montsalvat, than anywhere on the open road he might take her. Eustache had said they were prepared to greet any pursuers from the crown, and the forces Thierry had already seen quartered here convinced him.

‘Twas the only sensible path to take, despite his own misgivings. Thierry must think of Kira and her safety, not simply his own baser desires.

But how could he tell her that he did not abandon her here? Two years was long enough that any woman might have doubts. Would she believe any promise he made? Thierry propped his hands on his hips with dissatisfaction as he stared down at her once more.

Would she cry at the news? Thierry’s innards writhed at the possibility. Never would he be able to leave without her, should she cry. But he could not endanger her. Thierry pressed a hand to his temples.

Would that he could be assured that she would be safe in his company, for his heart vehemently protested any other solution.

But nay. ‘Twas illogical to jeopardize such a fragile creature so, purely for his own whimsy. Some of his possessions Thierry would leave that Kira might know he intended to return.

‘Twas the way it should be. She would understand. Thierry’s vision blurred as he stubbornly set about his packing and he forced himself to think of his return. Once he knew of his legacy, he would return and take Kira to his side once more. His woman she was and even the breadth of the Mongol empire could not change that simple fact. His fingers fumbled when he came upon the small pouch with the
aljofar.
He hesitated for a long moment, finally letting the chain and gem tumble into his palm.

Well should he have given Kira the token already. Thierry spared a glance to the bed, knowing that if she had awakened, he would have granted it to her now.

But nay. Kira slept on, oblivious to Thierry’s anguish, and loath was he to awaken her for such an indulgence. And then he would be forced to explain all to her. Thierry jammed the
aljofar
into its pouch.

Witch. So completely had Kira ensnared him, yet she blithely slept while he wrestled with his feelings for her.

And what were his feelings for her? Strong indeed was this urge to see her safe, yet Thierry would not grant it a name lest he be compelled to look it fully in the eye. He thought of his parents, and for the first time considered that there might be a difference between claiming Kira as his woman and making her his wife.

But nay. Foolish whimsy that was. ‘Twas all the same. The woman warmed his bed and knew the safety of his protection. What more could there be between man and woman? What more might one desire of a union?

Thierry thought unexpectedly of the way she had offered him comfort before he had gone down to the hall the night before and decisively snapped his saddlebag closed.

Mayhap ‘twould be better that he was without her for a while. Mayhap this softness she had launched within him would disappear, should she not be constantly before him.

Mayhap that softness was not something to be distrusted. The taunting voice of temptation would not abandon him readily this morn, it seemed, and Thierry shoved restlessly away from the bed.

Enough. A task had he to perform and though ‘twas one he would rather avoid, he would see the matter through. His father he would seek, his legacy he would know, his woman he would return for when all was completed.

And he would grant her the
aljofar
on his return. Thierry grimly shoved the pouch containing the gem deep within his
kalat.

Despite his resolutions, he could not help but pause before he left and look down on her lingeringly once more. Would that he could commit her features to memory. Would that he could safely take her with him.

Would that he did not have to go.

* * *

Kira sensed the difference in the room as soon as she awakened. Something was amiss. She rolled over and peered out through the heavy drapes, squinting at the brightness of the sunlight that flooded the room.

Clear ‘twas that Thierry had not returned to her, for she had not felt his warmth throughout the night, but there was something else gone awry. As soon as her eyes adjusted to the morning light, Kira saw that one of Thierry’s saddlebags was gone.

It could not be. She flew from the bed, tripping over the cursedly long chemise these folk wore, and tore open the top of the remaining bag. His blanket, his cooking utensils, his tin cup, all were gone. Indeed, this bag was virtually empty and she wondered why he had left it behind. One blanket there was only.

Kira rummaged in the hidden shadows of the leather bag and encountered something hard. She drew it out into the light and bit her lip when she realized she held the knife Thierry had granted her once before. That time he had given her a means of protecting herself when he sent her home alone.

The message was clear enough to Kira’s mind. Well it seemed he gave her the same means once again. Which could only mean that Thierry would be gone for a time. Kira sank to the floor beside his bag and turned the blade over and over in her hands.

Mayhap he was gone for good.

Mayhap ‘twas his way of telling her to be gone when he returned.

And he had not even awakened her to tell her of his decision himself. Truly she had been a fool to expect anything else.

She would not cry.

How could he leave her without saying adieu? How could he abandon her here in this remote fortress with solely a short dagger to protect herself? How could he not have known that she bore his child?

Curse him! In a rare burst of temper, Kira swatted the saddlebag viciously and sent it rolling end over end across the stone floor. The blanket tumbled out and unfolded itself, another tin cup rattled as it danced across the flagstones. Kira scooped up the empty bag, shook it savagely and cast it against the far wall in disgust.

‘Twas then that she realized what else Thierry had taken with him.

The
aljofar
was gone.

Thierry had gone to fetch his bride. The moment she had dreaded was upon her. Kira had been dismissed.

An overwhelming sadness threatened to engulf Kira but she stubbornly bit down on the tide. She would
not
cry. She would not be disappointed or hurt. Had she not known from the outset that he was Mongol? Had the Persian woman not warned her of their ways?

BOOK: Claire Delacroix
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