The Pearl Savage (32 page)

“They have no Band?”

Matthew shook his head. “No. My
existence with them…” he shrugged. “We do not know why I was
with them. Bracus has speculated…” he trailed off turning away
from her.

He could feel her approach. Her
warmth a thing of solidity, worming its way underneath his skin.

“What?” she asked softly.

“That they may have come upon my
mother…” he breathed out in a rush, his face hotter than he could
hardly stand, but he continued, “ and they kept me for a slave of
sorts.”

Oh,
how horrible
.
They may have taken him while he and his mother were outside the
protection of their clan, whichever one that was.

And
he had been raised a slave
.

Clara was a hair’s breadth from his
back. She reached out to the broadness of it, the fine fibers of the
tunic having small bumps where the linen and cotton mixed.

He
had suffered as she. They actually knew each other well, she thought.
At least in the ways that mattered
.

She
pressed her palm on his back. The spine formed a shallow canal
between muscles that bunched and intersected, running from huge
shoulders to a waist which tapered to the small of his back, where
diminutive swords lay crisscrossed. But Clara was unafraid. His
treatment of her was that of someone that did not know, could not
know
,
kindness, concern… care. How could one show compassion when one had
never known it? And the males of the Band would include him but would
not be nurturers.

She lay her head in the middle of
his back, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Silently lending
her compassion to him, wanting him to know that she forgave him his
treatment, that he understood he had a friend.

He felt her heat emanate into his
body, seeping from the point of contact. It slid to his extremities.
With a low groan he turned in one smooth motion and grabbed her upper
arms, his hands completely encircling them and drew her to him until
their chests were crushed together.

Clara
felt him pull her against him in a spine-tingling rush of desire that
swept over her in a heated wash and was powerless to remind herself
that this must not happen, that he was not of the sphere. The
fragment
raged about them waiting to take the unprotected. His own Band sought
them even now. Instead, she fell into his embrace like a woman lost,
a bottle in the ocean, swept to sea.

Matthew
put a hand underneath her chin, cupping it loosely, his fingertips
moving up the length of it, gliding until they swept beyond her
temple, carving pathways through her hair. He fisted it tightly and
she
gasped.
He held her there and gazed into her eyes. He did not want to force
her but he could not seem to help his actions, resisting as long as
he could. He felt that his whole life had been but preparation for
this moment with this woman.
All
intellect lost before her.

Matthew let the question fill his
eyes, she saw it and gave a very slight nod and he bent his head and
pressed his lips to hers.

Clara was shocked by the softness of
his kiss. For all his size and mannerisms she thought his kiss would
be an onslaught. But it was not. It was soft, a velvet feather. With
pressure and movement, his lips lifted, sought, connected and
explored. When he took her lower lip in his teeth capturing it there,
he nibbled on it then sucked it into his mouth softly, his tongue
explored the inside of her mouth delicately then with increasing
passion and Clara was lost in it, her body afire. Clinging to his
shoulders like a lifeline, she gave back what she got, pressing her
body harder into his, her hands sliding up around his neck.

Matthew was desperate for more of
her touch and when her hands dug into his shoulders as she began to
move up to encircle his neck, he lifted her right off the ground and
she held onto him. His kisses rained down like rose petals on her
throat… her neck, everywhere skin was, he worshiped it with his
mouth.

She felt him move her until her back
was against the very tree that she had cowered against earlier. The
rough bark biting slightly as his body covered hers completely. Those
large hands pressed her body against his, one hand exploring her
ribcage and waist and the other holding her against the trunk.

Matthew became aware of far-off
noises and broke off his attentions…his breath coming in quick
gasps. His senses sharpening, he looked down on her. Clara’s eyes
were swimming pools of turquoise in a face flushed a deep pink, the
marks of abuse fading and in their place lips that were swollen from
kisses instead of fists.

Damn.

He wanted her, it sung in his body
like a finely tuned instrument. But his senses had roared to life and
that meant threats were near. Ignoring his Band’s directives could
not negate those deeply honed instincts that he had been born with.

“What?” Clara asked, languid and
drowsy in his embrace.

“Someone draws near,” Matthew
said, gently lowering her down, his arms around her, pulling her
tight against his chest, his hand stroking her hair, his eyes
scanning the distance.

He
heard horses but not Band.
Fragment?
He
pushed Clara behind him and said, “Stay behind me, no matter what
occurs, do not leave my side.”

Clara felt sick, it was too many
things, one on top of the other. She put her hand on the tree but met
his gaze, nodding.

Satisfied, Matthew turned away from
her. Releasing his daggers from the small of his back, his hands
swinging around to the front of his body, his stance widening as the
thundering of the horses hooves neared. Matthew lowered into a
crouching stance.

Clara watched Matthew move in front
of her and take the small swords from their sheathing, a singing
metal sound as they briefly connected making her ears ring. She did
finally hear the approaching horses and knew that her life would be
changing yet again. She badly wished to move up behind Matthew, out
of sight and hidden behind him.

But if there were to be a fight, she
would be in the way so she stood where she was, vulnerability her
burden to carry.

****

Charles
and Clarence waited until the two
savages
were gone and the others back inside the gate then followed them
after some discussion.

“
She
is not here, you heard those
savages
.
She has escaped…”

“Or been taken,” Clarence said.

Charles nodded.

“We follow them then. Where they
lead, we shall follow and the Princess will be there.”

Charles
palmed his jaw thoughtfully. “They went to the trouble to acquire
her and then she slips between their fingers?” his fingers
clenched, then splaying, he shook his head. Something was amiss. The
savages
seemed far too astute and instinctual
to
allow such a thing.

“Agreed, but our path is laid
before us, Charles. Whatever may have happened, it matters not. She
is still in danger, true?”

“Yes,” Charles replied.

They
followed, the
savages’
stealthy
tracks a challenge to navigate but they did, for Clara.

****

Queen Ada sent Henry ahead to the
huge complex which was surrounded by an intimidating natural fence
made of the huge timbers that were so prevalent in this strange
place.

It had not been without argument.

“Queen Ada, I implore you, that we
behave in a friendly and peaceful way, not lurking about as if we
mean harm.”

“
We
do mean harm, Henry. I do not wish to ‘make peace’ with the
savages
.
I wish to take what is mine, return to the sphere and have the
betrothal go forward so that we may ally the kingdoms,” she said to
Henry as if he were a simpleton.

He sighed, she was stupidly
stubborn. “My Queen,” she smiled at him without warmth, “I will
spy for you but I do not feel it is to our benefit.”

“Duly noted. Now go,” she said,
uncapping her wine flask.

Henry eyed the flask and tried
again, “Queen Ada,” she narrowed her eyes on him, “what of
food? When was the last time you took a meal? Some cheese perhaps?”
she glowered at him and he unflinchingly held her gaze.

“Fine,” she made a disgusted
noise in her throat. “You, guard,” she barked.

The guard which dragged the load
that was the Queen, jumped on his mount at her tone, turning quickly.
“Yes, my Queen?”

She
spoke to him but looked directly at Henry, “Ready some cheese with
grapes,
”
she spat the last word sarcastically. Henry was sure it was for his
benefit. “So this worrisome nagging will discontinue.”

“Post haste, my Queen,” he said.

Henry could hear him rustling for
the food.

“Satisfied?” she said, her
question both a challenge and a statement.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“
Yes,
my Queen,
”
Henry said with resignation.

She smiled at his discomfiture.
Whatever made others uncomfortable seemed to please her, he thought.

She was a hateful example of
humanity.

He turned away and left her and the
other guards in the deepest part of the woods, making his way toward
a fence constructed of huge logs that had their tops sharpened to
dangerous points.

As
he approached, he became aware of raised voices. He crouched down
behind wild ferns with serrated fronds that rose about in all
directions, the low branches of the evergreen trees almost caressing
their tops; he could not be seen
.
Yet
one of the huge
savages
turned in his direction, his nostrils flaring, his hand hovering over
the hilt of a dirk that hung at his hip.

But
a short man with a barrel chest and a bald head of a certain age
gained his attention and he was distracted. However, it was
what
they said that made the breath still in Henry’s body.

“…but know this, I want that
Princess back here, standing in front of me, unharmed. Do you
understand?”

More
words were exchanged, snippets heard but not in their entirety.
Somehow, they had kidnapped the Princess, then lost her? To whom?
Henry was more mystified than ever. This was no longer a simple
acquisition mission. They had grossly underestimated the
sophistication of the
savages
.
Wrongly assumed a state of primitiveness that was unfounded. He
closed his eyes for a moment, despairing. Gaining Clara for the
sphere was now no longer a directive by the Queen.

She was their last hope, their
greatest chance for a future without tyranny.

****

Jabez watched the Queen’s First
Guard make his stealthy departure from yonder foliage. Taking his
leave, he was certain, to explain the surprise of what he had also
heard.

The Princess had fallen out of their
grasp and she was being reacquired somewhere in this vast wilderness.

Jabez
moved quietly away toward their camp. He had seen the
savages
scanning the area constantly, as if they may know they were
observed, which was impossible. He thought upon their strange size,
the gills, that only fish should have. Their way of movement was
lithe and graceful, but deadly. They would be fierce fighters.

Jabez could envision this.

His
heart raced with the anticipation of coming against them. The
Prince’s guard would prevail, there were simply too many for the
savages
to gain advantage.

They would surrender or die.

He hurried back to tell the Prince
all that he knew.

****

Matthew’s body trembled, adrenaline
coursing through him, the female at his back. A new purpose drilled
through his body which was almost painful. It was more than pure
desire, he wished to share something more, something intrinsically
powerful.

Life.

Now that epiphany was threatened.

Horses
slowed and came into view… it was the
fragment
,
and they were many. Matthew’s heart sped, he could feel Clara’s fear
behind him. The need to cover her with his protection choked him,
singing through him, unlike anything he had ever experienced.

His
eyes traveled the group of twelve and one female,
Evelyn
.
Her eyes pleading with him, her hair a matted mess, one eye swollen
shut.

Rage surged through Matthew. They
would die. Or he would die making them sorry.

Then his eyes landed on one male,
then another, whom he recognized. The decade past had not dimmed in
his memory.

Margaret’s attackers.