Epic Of Palins 01 - Dagger Star (22 page)

—and certain sure, if his bed was as busy as Josiah—

Red cut that thought off.

As they said, then certain sure Fael’d be a skilled lover.

Here she was, wearing fine armor that almost seemed to breathe with her, light and comfortable.

Her blades were sharp, her ale was cold, her belly was full, and her itch about to be well and truly scratched….

Except she wasn’t itchy.

Red put a gloved hand to her mouth, and started to chew at the stitching on the side of the index finger.

She should be satisfied. Content. The Chosen, and acknowledged as such, damn it all to the very fire pits of the lower hells and back up the path. This polite banter would end, she’d be invited to his bed, and all would be well.

Wouldn’t it?

Although if this polite banter went on much longer, Red planned to go bed down with the troops.

But at last, Lord Fael released his men from the hall, and waved his servants away. As the room cleared, he turned to them with a polite smile. “Lady High Priestess, Lord Auxter, I wish to consider your words. Please, let me give you an answer in the morning. My servants await to escort you to your quarters.”

“Our thanks.” Evelyn rose, as did Red and Auxter.

“Stay, Chosen,” Lord Fael requested. “I’d have further words with you.”

Red didn’t bother exchanging glances with the others. She just nodded, easing back into her chair. “As you wish, Lord Fael.”

The tap of Auxter’s staff echoed in the room as he and Evelyn left.

“So, what makes you think you can restore the Throne?” Lord Fael poured them each another mug of ale, and leaned back in his chair to put his boots on the table.

Red mimicked his pose, just as relaxed and confident. “Let me tell you about our plans.”

They talked well in to the night, long enough that Lord Fael himself had to stoke the fire and add wood. To Red’s surprise, he actually listened carefully, asking good questions and letting her explain her answers. Finally, he stood and stretched. She admired the movement of his tunic over his chest.

“The night grows late, Chosen. I’m for bed.”

She nodded, drained her ale, and stood.

Fael moved closer, to stand right next to her. He smelled of metal, oil, and sweat. He stepped closer, and tugged at the lacings on her armor. His breath on her check was sweet with ale. Not an unpleasant scent.

But not marjoram, either.

Fael moved closer, and Red tilted her neck to give him access. He nuzzled just under her ear. His fingers reached under the leather and stroked her birthmark, soft and warm against her skin.

“Would you be adverse to my company this night?” Fael asked softly.

Had to give him credit for courtesy, at the very least. Red drew a breath….

…AND hesitated.

“Lady?” Lord Fael asked.

Red stepped away from him, and shook her head. She almost didn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth. “I cannot.”

When she spoke, she realized that it was true. What used to mean little other than physical pleasure now meant something else. It had changed somehow. She’d just gotten Josiah’s eyes to laugh. How could she cause them to fill with pain?

Lord Fael smirked. “What? You aren’t going to spread your legs for the cause?”

Her anger flared at the insult, and it was a relief. Anger was familiar. Something she understood.

Red snarled, “If I thought it would win your honest support and loyalty, I’d bed you. And leave you panting and stupid.” She put her hand on her sword hilt, but went no further. It wouldn’t do to kill him. “How do I know that your loyalty won’t shift when another woman enters your bed?”

“A shared throne would be an incentive,” Fael replied.

Red pressed her lips together. “There is”—she had to pause for a moment—“there is someone else.”

Lord Fael gave her a look. “You are bonded?”

“No.” Red shrugged, uncomfortable. “But there is someone who would be hurt.”

“And that bothers you.”

“Yes,” Red growled. She didn’t really want to think about that, but—

“You surprise me, Chosen.” Lord Fael sat back down. “I’d have thought you’d do almost anything to win my support.”

Red thumped back down in her chair. “So did I.”

“Who is this…man?” Fael asked.

“Lord Josiah of Athelbryght.”

Fael’s eyes narrowed. “You lie. Josiah of Athelbryght is dead these handful of years past.”

Red shook her head. “He lives, isolated and alone in the ruins of his land.”

Fael sat back. “Josiah was…is…a good man. A friend as well. Why didn’t he accompany you?

His presence—”

Red sighed. “Call for more ale, Fael. This will take some time to explain.”

They sat by the dying fire as Red explained. Fael’s eyebrows kept going up and up at her words, but he listened carefully and didn’t interrupt.

When she was done, he leaned back again. “You have trusted me with much, Red.”

She shrugged. “If I’d have you as an ally, I must trust, Fael.”

“Yet you refuse me, for Josiah’s sake.”

Red nodded.

Fael shook his head. “Ah, Red. If I’d have done as you have…made the same decision.” He sighed. “Well, what’s past is past.”

That made little sense to Red, but they’d drunk more than enough ale that it might make sense to him.

“My servants will see you to your lonely bed.” Fael’s tone softened his words. “You’ve given me much to think on. In the morning, we’ll talk. Maybe spar a bit, eh? And we will see.”

And with that, Red had to be content.

LADY High Priestess Evelyn was surprised by the knock on the door of her room. But she was even more shocked to find Red Gloves standing there, scowling, her arms filled with bedding.

“What?”

Red pushed past her and into the room. “I’m sleeping here tonight.”

Evelyn looked out into the cold hall, then closed the door quickly to keep in the warmth. Red dumped the bedding before the fire, and started to take off her sword belt. Evelyn pulled her robe close around her body. “I assumed that—”

“You assumed wrong.” Red knelt and started to arrange the blankets in a pallet.

The stone floor was cold under Evelyn’s feet, so she crossed the room to stand on the small rug before her bed. She’d just finished her prayers before the fire, and been ready to crawl into bed.

“Fael won’t give you quarters?” Evelyn asked softly.

“Fael’s people made the same assumption that you made,” Red growled. “There’s no fire laid, no warming pans for the bed. I told them the floor before your fire was good enough.”

“And stomped off before they could protest, I imagine.”

“Something like that.” Red set her swords next to the pallet. She stood, and started to work on the buckles of her armor.

Evelyn watched her. “You could share my bed,” she offered quietly.

Red glanced over at the four poster, with its heavy curtains and thick coverlet. “No, thanks.

Close those curtains, and I’d feel imprisoned.”

“The floor is cold,” Evelyn said, “not to mention hard.”

“Not the first time.” Red set her armor close at hand, but made no move to take off the quilted jerkin. She sat down on the pallet, and removed her boots. “Better by far than standing around as gossipy maids giggle and fret over warming a room for me.”

“When on campaign, you never know where your head will lie.” Evelyn shook her head. “That’s what my father always said to me.”

“True enough,” Red muttered, as she crawled into the blankets.

Evelyn shook her head, stepping to stand between the fire and Red. The heat of the flames warmed her back. Red looked up, a question in her eyes.

Evelyn smiled, and with a gesture spoke a quiet prayer. She felt the stones beneath her feet respond to the magic, warming her toes.

Red’s eyes widened.

“I think that will be more comfortable, wouldn’t you say?” Evelyn asked as she padded back to bed.

“Useful, even if it’s a priestly thing,” Red said, rubbing her hands over the stone floor.

“It should last for the night.” Evelyn took off her robe, pulled up her shift, and slipped under the covers. Warmth from the mattress and bedding surrounded her quickly, and she settled back with a sigh. Red was welcome to the floor, but Evelyn had slept on the ground far too often to refuse a bed. Nestled down, she pulled the blankets up tight. “So, you did not bed Fael.”

Red lay on her back, her blankets pulled up to her shoulders. She looked up at the ceiling, and for a long moment Evelyn didn’t think she was going to answer. But the words finally emerged, as if pulled from her by force. “I did not.”

“Will he support—”

“Maybe.” Red said through her teeth.

“Maybe?” Evelyn asked. “We need—”

Red rolled over to face the fire, her back to Evelyn. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

“Why? Why did you refuse him?” Evelyn said sharply. “You said before that there was no problem, that you’d sleep—”

“Because Jo—” Red snapped, then stopped. “Because he doesn’t suit me, all right?”

“Oh.”

“Enough talk,” Red said. “Sleep.”

Evelyn settled down into the mattress and laid her head on the pillow. She left the curtain open so that she could study Red’s back.

She’d been so busy lately, trying to balance her Church obligations with her work in Athelbryght. She hadn’t really gotten a chance to get to know Red at all. She knew that Red was sleeping with Josiah, that much was certain, and she wasn’t quite sure how that had happened.

She hadn’t pressed the point, since it was to their advantage to have Red…involved in their cause. But she flushed a bit, acknowledging to herself that the Lord of Light frowned on relations without a bonding. It was expediency, and she’d have to ask forgiveness for it when all was said and done.

Still, Red was so complex: one moment crude, the next showing her political savvy. And she absorbed information so quickly. Her leadership skills were the equal of Auxter’s. And this…

loyalty…to Josiah was another layer to consider.

All of their schemes were at risk now, if Lord Fael would not aid them. Yet she smiled in the darkness, oddly pleased. She liked Red the better for it, to be honest.

She closed her eyes. She’d have to leave it in the hands of the Lord and the Lady. For now, she was going to sleep.

With any luck, the Chosen wouldn’t snore.

JOSIAH heard the shouts as he was about to bed down for the second night alone. The cry “A portal’s opening” had him up and struggling back into his clothes.

By the time he emerged from the tent, there were warriors, horses, and goats milling about in front of the barn. Lanterns had been brought, and greetings were exchanged as they dismounted.

Josiah spotted Evie first. It was easy enough to do, as her white hair and robes seemed to capture the light and glow against the darkness. She gave him a soft smile as he reached up to help her dismount.

“Fael is with us,” she said. She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “You should see to Red. She has to be exhausted.”

Josiah looked about. Red was still mounted, and she raised her hand, calling for quiet, drawing everyone’s attention.

“We have Lord Fael’s support,” Red said. “But our appearance in his lands will set tongues wagging. It will not be long before the enemy knows of us, and our intentions. Set the watches,”

Red continued. “And everyone stay alert.”

A murmur of agreement arose, and then the men started to unload their horses and see to them.

Josiah stepped to Red’s side.

Beast turned his head to look at Josiah, but didn’t seem to have the energy to bite.

Red looked down at Josiah with tired eyes. “Do me a favor?” she asked softly.

Josiah nodded.

“Don’t let me fall,” Red whispered. With that, she gathered herself up, and swung down from the saddle. She swayed when her feet touched the ground.

Josiah reached out, and set his hand in the middle of her back.

Bethral appeared, taking Beast’s reins from Red’s hands. “I’ll see to him.”

Red blinked at her, and her jaw worked as if she were stifling a yawn. “I feel like I’ve taken on an army, single-handed.”

Josiah moved to stand beside her, and wrapped his arm around her waist. It wasn’t obvious, but he felt her sag against him slightly.

“Rest, then,” Bethral said. “Ezren’s awake and dying to know what happened, but I will tell him he must wait.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Auxter said from behind them. “I’ll tell him enough to keep him happy until morning.” He headed toward the barn, thumping his staff as he walked.

Bethral tugged on the reins, and Beast went off, meek as you please.

Red sighed. Josiah looked down at her, his lips brushing her cheek. “Can you make it to the tent?”

“Damned if I know,” Red said. “I ache in places I didn’t know I owned.”

Josiah snagged a lantern from one of the men, and got them started down the path. They walked in silence. He suspected that Red needed to think of nothing else but putting one foot in front of the other.

He waited until they were in the tent with the flaps closed before he asked, “What happened?”

“Lord Fael is a bull,” Red replied.

Josiah tried to guide her to the bed, but Red resisted. “No, not the bed. If I sink into that softness, I’ll not get back up again for a while.” Red eased down into one of the chairs.

Josiah set the lantern off to the side. An image flashed before his eyes of handsome Fael pounding into Red, naked on a bed. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, but he forced himself to speak. “He was rough?”

“I’d say.” Red pulled off a boot, letting it drop to the floor. “He wanted to do it all, let me tell you.”

Josiah winced, only to realize that Red was studying him out of the corner of her eye. He frowned at her, not quite understanding.

Red shrugged and went on. “He wanted to spar. First one weapon, then another. I matched him step for step, but…” She yawned. “Then he wanted to watch me fight with his best man, so he could ‘learn my technique.’” Red snorted. “He probably needed a nap. And as if that wasn’t enough, then he wanted to hunt, and not just deer. Oh, no. Deer and boar. Then a ride out with his falcons, to have a go at pigeons. At least for that, you sit on a horse and the bird does the work.”