Lords Of The Dark Fall - Fabian (11 page)

The potatoes clattered into the stone sink. Tig attacked the pump-handle, working it as if her very life depended on every drop of water gushing from its spout.

“Now do you understand why us having sex was such a bad idea?” she said. “How quickly it can stop being just sex?”

He’d imagined the danger was out there, in the wastelands between the settlements, where warlords fought for their all too brief moments of glory.
Fool
. Without realising it, Tig had laid siege to his heart and he was trapped, unable to think clearly, unable to act. Caught in a limbo of indecision, where every option led to the same place. Her.

“A powerful mage might get me home. But even if I could take you with me, my people would never accept you. My wives would never tolerate you. You would not fit into my world.”

“As you don’t fit into mine.” Tig waved him away. “The fewer memories of you I have, the easier you’ll be to forget. Wash. Dinner will be ready soon.”

He didn’t offer to peel the potatoes. It was, after all, women’s work. Servant’s work. The most high-lord of the seven plateaus did not demean himself with the work of lesser mortals.

Fabian straightened his back and remembered who he was. Almost a god to these simple folk. A man driven by ambition, not by these bewildering feelings which tore at his heart and guts.

“You may serve me when ready,” he said and walked from the kitchen to clean off the day’s grime in the wash-house. The gun couldn’t be far. Tig hadn’t left the farm since he’d arrived. The rifle was the nearest thing to magic he could hope for right now.

The ice-cold water made him shiver. He drew another bucket and poured it over his head. Let it drench him in the hope it would cool the heat in his brain.

Tig had achieved more than the strongest of mages. She’d given him back his heart and made him feel. He doused himself again, but no matter how cold he became, the flame she’d ignited burned defiantly deep in his chest. Leaving her, and even worse, betraying her, would tear him in two unless he got a serious grip on himself. And fast.

For a heart-stopping moment, Tig thought he’d found the gun. The loose floorboard had been pulled up and replaced haphazardly. The wardrobe door left ajar. Two muddy footprints stained the rug by her bed. Fabian hadn’t even tried to hide the fact he’d been through her room.

Did he think she’d be stupid enough to hide it in here? She kicked off her shoes and reached for her riding boots.
Take the thing over to Sunas and get her to hide it.
No, it would be impossible to keep from Hal. Very little got past his acute senses.

Fabian was in the yard, standing in the shelter of the eaves where he couldn’t be seen from the road. Arms folded. Eyes distant. Brooding, if his implacable stance was anything to go by. A man whose focus had shifted from the cosy confines of the farm, to the distant horizon. Tig knew she couldn’t keep him safely tucked away for much longer.

She gave him a tight smile as she crossed to the stable to saddle up Cafino. Fabian raised his hand in salute, his mouth set in a grim line. However much he professed his gratitude for all she’d done for him, the issue of the gun, her refusal to help him in his bid for power, lay between them like a tangible thing. He wanted to risk all. She wanted to live. They’d reached the point where the only middle ground was this stiff formality. This pretence that things would go on as they were and there would be no blood-bath. No regrets. No pain.

Each day with Fabian was another thread woven into the complicated web that was fast becoming her life. If he didn’t leave soon, she would be far too entangled to ever forget him. She had only a small inkling that he felt the same. The way he watched her with his deep dark gaze, sometimes with lust, sometimes with concern told her the same dilemmas tore at him. But, wherever he’d come from, he seemed determined to return, one way or another. And willing to pay the required price.

Tig urged Cafino into a gallop, always alert for other riders, the crossbow tucked under her arm. Winter’s bite was softening into the promise of spring, giving way to gentle breezes that lifted her spirits and helped blow away the cobwebs cluttering her mind.

She gave the beast his head and lost herself in the exhilaration of the ride. Cafino responded with a burst of speed that made her feel guilty for ignoring him these past few weeks. By the time she clattered into Hal’s yard, she was breathless and laughing. Slightly hysterical. Sliding from the saddle, she embraced Sunas with enthusiasm and relegated thoughts of Fabian and her growing feelings for him, firmly to the back of her mind. She’d been too-long closeted in a confined space with a desirable man. Too focused on things over which she had little control. The moment she’d decided not to turn Fabian in for profit was the moment she’d conceded defeat and handed him back his destiny. Now, she could only watch and hope they both survived what was coming.

“Goodness, Tig. What a welcome.” Sunas hugged her with genuine appreciation. Holding her at arm’s length, Sunas inspected her face. “Hal told me you’d hurt yourself. I would have come over, but this leg, I can hardly bend it.”

“I tripped and fell. It was nothing, really.” Tig felt a momentary pang of guilt for neglecting the woman who’d been so good to her. “I came to see how you were and to impose for a few supplies if you can spare them.” Tig glanced around, not missing the new gate, the pure-bred horse leaning hopefully over the corral fence waiting for treats. Pure-breds, rather than hybrid mixes like Cafino, were the gifts of kings. Or war-lords. Sunas followed her gaze and quickly ushered her into the house.

“We’re minding him for a friend. A trader who’s taking him to market. Sit down. I’ll make tea and we can catch up on the gossip.”

“Thanks, I am rather thirsty after the ride.” 

Sunas returned her a tight smile, as if she realised they were having one of those trite conversations designed to avoid the obvious. “I can even offer you a choice. Dark-leaf or high plateau. Which would you prefer?”

“Dark-leaf?” Tig stripped off her gloves and placed them carefully on the table. Worse than she’d realised. Those who could afford Dark-leaf were the kind of people with the influence to take what they wanted. Hal had risen higher than she’d imagined.

“You got that from a friend, too? Sunas, I know about Warrington. I know Hal’s in there.”

Sunas’s sigh was heartfelt enough to be sincere. She wouldn’t have mentioned the almost impossible to obtain, tea if she didn’t want to talk about it. Her eyes were alarmingly bright when she limped across the kitchen bearing the ornately-glazed jar holding the leaves.

“Have you ever smelled anything so exquisite?” she said, offering the jar.

“You already know I haven’t. Sunas, I don’t blame you and Hal for throwing in with the new warlord. We’ll all have to do it sooner or later. He told me the protection payment’s increasing. Any word on that?”

“Hal and I don’t talk business. Don’t hate me for this, Tig. We’re just trying to survive, like everyone else. I’m sorry about Carson. I know you were fond of him.”

“I was fond of what he represented. Security. He was the only reason I’ve been able to stay on at the farm and he was good to me in his way. Perhaps this is life telling me I ought to make the break and move into town.”

“You’d need Warrington’s permission to do that.” Sunas tilted her head, eyeing her with enough scrutiny to make her squirm. “You’ve clung to that farm with your last fingernail. Even if Warrington would allow you to leave, why would you suddenly want to pack up and move?”

“Perhaps because I’ve no fingernails left to hold on with? It’s too big for me to manage, anyway.”

“You need a husband, Tig. I worry about you, all alone out there.”

“Been there, done that. Come on, Sunas.” Tig slid the tea-jar across the table. “I came here for a gossip and to sweet-talk you out of some supplies. The dogs ate the last of the potatoes and a wolf ran off with my goat-leg. Do you have any mutton going begging? I’m planning a new series of story-plates and will be able to pay you back.”

Tig paused for breath, hoping the request for some decent meat had managed to sound casual rather than desperate. A man the size of Fabian couldn’t survive on the meagre rations she allowed herself. Especially one planning to take over the world.

He’d certainly need his strength for that.

“Mutton? Anyone would think you were feeding an army.” Sunas raised an eyebrow but took the hint and turned to busy herself with the tea. As the pungent aroma filled the kitchen, Tig’s thoughts strayed to Fabian and what he might be doing in her absence.

Probably taking the house apart in his efforts to find the rifle. The warrior-king was replacing the wounded exile with alarming speed. He’d want it as a symbol of power and defiance if nothing else.

“You know Warrington will probably marry you off, regardless of what you want? You’ve some good grazing land, which he won’t want to see lie idle.” Sunas set out a plate bearing slices of fruit-laden cake. Poured out two mugs of tea and handed one over.

Tig took a moment to sniff the heady brew. Made right, Dark-leaf could induce a bit of a high and she could do with a free joy-ride right now. “He can try. If it comes to that, I’ll just give him the farm without protest.”

The sadness in Sunas’s eyes returned. “Don’t know if I should be telling you this, but Warrington has plans and I’ve a horrible feeling you’ll be a part of them.”

Tig helped herself to a slice of cake, unable to stop the quickening of her heart. “Not the old breeding farm idea again? I thought the population was on the rise?”

“Not according to Hal. Warrington wants more marriages, and more children. There aren’t enough kids reaching maturity, apparently.”

“Breeding farms are barbaric. Remember what a genetic disaster that experiment was?”

“He’s talking about marriage, doing it the traditional way. Even Hal’s doing his bit. Told me he’s looking to replace Alie. Have some kids before he’s too old.” This time the tears did spill. “I think he means to set me aside now he can afford some newer, younger wives. With this leg I’m virtually useless. Where will I go, Tig? What will I do if he does?”

Tig put down her mug, appalled at the bleakness in her friend’s expression. “Why would he do that? You’ve been a good and loyal wife to him, Sunas. He owes you now that you’re—“

“Old, fat and crippled? I embarrass him. That’s the bottom line. And it’s fairly obvious I’ll never give him children. He’s about to trade me in, Tig. I know it. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Tig inhaled the steam from the tea, wishing the effects would kick in before the conversation turned to exactly who Hal was lining up as his new wife. If she’d ever even remotely considered the possibility of saying yes to him, she knew now that it would never be an option. Enduring Hal’s creepy sexual tendencies paled into insignificance compared to the hurt she’d cause her old friend.

“Ask away. I’m always here for a friend, you know that.”

“I know. Can I come over for a few days? I’ll bring food and some juicy gossip and we’ll have a male-free time. Couple of days where we can put the world to rights, eat and sleep without worrying about the mess all this macho posturing is making of our country. What do you say?”

Tig took a gulp of her tea, nearly choking in her effort to swallow. What could she say? Sorry, I’m already busy with said macho male who wants me to help him organise a blood-bath? What possible excuse could she give?

“I’d love to. But, I’m really busy right now. Got myself way behind with the pottery and need to catch up. Couple of weeks’ time, maybe?”

It hurt to have to turn her down. To see the expression of hope turn to one of disappointment. Sunas had been a great comfort in the horrible aftermath of the massacre that had taken her family and Tig owed her big-time.

Sunas didn’t even bother to try to hide the hurt. “Couple of weeks’ time it is, then. Hal’s due back soon. If you meet him on the road, don’t tell him I asked.”

“Of course I won’t.” Tig drank down the remainder of her tea. It wasn’t Dark-leaf after all, just some poor substitute that was having no effect whatsoever on either of them judging by their glum expressions. “Time to go,” she said rising from her chair. “I’m really sorry about the visit. We’ll do it, soon, okay? Are we still good for the loan of supplies?”

“Wait up, I’ll fetch you down a haunch of mutton. Don’t let Hal drive you away, Tig. We haven’t even begun to talk.”

“He’s not, really.” She stooped to hug her friend. “Forget about the mutton. I’m just being greedy. A small sack of potatoes will do me fine. After all, it is only me I’m feeding.”

Sunas hauled herself to her feet. “Come on, they’re in the store out back. I know Hal creeps you out a bit and I don’t blame you for feeling that way. If we go now, he won’t even know you’ve been here.”

“You’re a good friend, Sunas. I’ll pray for you.”

“You’ve bought into this one true god thing, then?”

Tig gave a dry laugh. Peeling back her sleeve she revealed the mark of the fishes.

“When the war bands agree on the same one true god, I’ll get it made permanent. For now, I’m more than happy to worship whichever god is flavour of the month.”

Sunas gave a nod of understanding, her expression turning pensive. “You’re not old enough to remember what it was like before the wars. This land was a paradise. The city of Tunaka one of the most beautiful places on the planet, all fountains and marble squares where people would sit and chat over their coffee of a morning. And they’ve ruined it all.”

“I’ve seen pictures.” Tig chose the smallest sack of potatoes, not wishing to call attention to the extra mouth she was feeding. “Guess I was born twenty years too late.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” Hal’s deep masculine tones cut in smoothly.

Dammit, Hal!
Neither of them had heard the wagon, which meant he’d parked it deliberately at a distance in order to surprise them. Must have seen Cafino tethered in the corral when he did his sweep of the property. Tig’s cheeks heated beneath his gaze. Sunas hadn’t missed the frank appraisal, the smile that hinted that she and Hal shared something his wife had no knowledge of.