Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [22]
She did understand; he was certain of it. He was convinced she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Women liked to tease a man, toy with him as fox kits toy with a dead rabbit.
Skylan slowed his steps. “Let me rest a moment with you. The two of us together, here, where it is quiet—”
His arm tightened suggestively around her shoulder.
“I have left my sister alone too long already,” said Aylaen. “As for Owl Mother, she will be in her dwelling. She would never leave her animals. Just a little farther, brother—”
“Don’t call me that!” Skylan ordered angrily.
“Why not?” Aylaen asked pertly. “That’s how I think of you.”
“I don’t want you to think of me that way!” Skylan said. “You are my betrothed. Soon you will be my wife.”
“You don’t need a wife. You have too many women already,” Aylaen said teasingly.
“I have not slept with anyone in two years!”
Aylaen’s eyes widened. She was mocking him. “Truly?”
Skylan made a dismissive gesture. “I want you and no other.”
“I was jesting,” she said.
“I wasn’t,” he replied.
Aylaen flushed and lowered her eyes in confusion. “Skylan, there is something I must tell you—”
“Stop right there, whoever you are!” said a warning voice. “One more step, and I’ll set the wolves on you.”
The sound of a low, rumbling growl caused Skylan to draw his knife.
“We should leave!” he said.
Aylaen ignored him, as usual.
“It’s Aylaen, Owl Mother, and Skylan Ivorson. He was gored by a boar. He needs your help.”
“Let the gods heal him,” came the scornful reply. “I have work to do.”
“Perhaps you have not heard, Owl Mother. Ogres came to the village and—”
“I know about the ogres. The crows told me. What has that to do with anything?”
Aylaen and Skylan exchanged glances.
“The ogres said there was a great battle in heaven, Owl Mother,” Aylaen replied. “They claim our gods were defeated—”
Her words were met by silence.
“We’re getting out of here,” Skylan said insistently.
Aylaen shook her head.
Skylan glared at her, exasperated. “I say we’re leaving.”
“And I say we’re not,” she flared, her temper as fiery as her flame-colored hair. “You don’t tell me what to do, Skylan Ivorson. No one tells me what to do. And, in case you’ve forgotten, you may have to fight tomorrow. Look at yourself! You can’t even walk without help!”
Skylan drew in a seething breath. He recalled what he’d said earlier in the day about Torval having difficulty controlling the women in his family.
“Let the son of Norgaard come forward!” Owl Mother said grudgingly.
Aylaen started to help him, but he shoved her away.
“I can manage on my own. Wait for me here.”
Once again, Aylaen disobeyed. He looked back to see her walking along behind him. He shook his head. Things would be different once they were married.
Skylan emerged from the forest into a clearing. Here, he halted again, looking warily about, wondering where the old woman was and, more important, what she had done with the wolves. Skylan had never been to Owl Mother’s dwelling. There had been no need. Desiria, Goddess of Life, had always thought well of him and given him her blessing. Skylan felt a flash of annoyance at the goddess for having forced him to resort to fae magic.
In the center of the clearing was a longhouse that was well constructed, small, and snug. There was a large garden, newly planted. Six deer stood grazing calmly on grass around the cabin. At the sight of Skylan, the deer fled, white tails flashing.
Six deer! And he and Garn had spent days searching and not seen one. Ducks waddled about the yard. Chickens pecked at the ground. Birds twittered and called.
Owl Mother was nowhere in sight, but the door to the cabin stood open. Moving closer, he saw animal pens in the rear of the house. A calf with a bandage around its leg, looking very sorry for himself, stood in one. A couple of goats were in another. Owl Mother was known for her skill in treating sick animals. People in the