Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [117]
Thea scarcely heard them. Ware was down.
He had been toppled from his horse at last. A man on foot was doubly vulnerable. They would cut him to pieces.
The drums throbbed louder.
And Kemal’s soldiers were frozen in place, their gaze on the ring of rocks that formed a ledge around the plateau.
A white-robed figure appeared on the ledge. Another was suddenly standing a few yards from the first. The assassins flowed in a circle, silent, watching white ghouls at a death feast.
The drums became louder, faster.
“Yes,” Kadar murmured. “Let them hear it.”
Kemal’s soldiers were fleeing, streaming down the mountainside in a panic.
Thea could not believe it. Ware was safe.
“Come back here, cowards,” Kemal shouted. “There’s nothing to fear. I have the banner.”
Thank God they were not listening. Thea jerked her horse’s reins from Kadar’s grasp and rode toward Ware. His helmet had been knocked off in the fall, and he was on his knees, struggling to get up.
“I have the banner,” Kemal screamed again. His face was flushed, his eyes popping with anger. His gaze flicked to the ledge, and a ripple of fear crossed his face as he realized he was alone. His frustration exploded as he wheeled on Ware. “Vile dog!”
His sword crashed down toward Ware’s unprotected head.
“Ware!” Thea’s scream was without voice, the horror too great for sound.
Ware managed to deflect the point with his shield but took the broad side of the sword on his temple.
Kemal was gone, riding over Ware and down the mountain after his men.
Ware lay crumpled on the ground, white and still. His temple was bleeding and looked…dented.
Thea was off her horse and beside him. “Ware.” She sank to her knees and gathered him to her breast. “You will not die. Do you hear me? I will not have it.”
Ware’s lids opened. “Listen…Kadar.” Ware’s voice was a mere whisper. “Take—her away—from this land. Too much danger—here.”
“He will take me nowhere.” Her arms tightened fiercely around him. “If you want me away from danger, you must live and take me yourself.”
His gaze shifted back to her face. “Stubborn—woman…” His eyes closed and he slumped.
Dead?
No, she could see a faint movement of his chest beneath the armor. He lived, and she would find a way to fan that spark of life to flame. She glanced up at Kadar and demanded, “What do you know of healing?”
“I know he is very bad and that there is nothing either of us can do.” He held up his hand as she opened her lips to protest. “It is true. With a head wound you can only wait and tend and hope he will wake. With severe blows sometimes the sleep becomes death.”
“Don’t tell me that I can do nothing. I won’t let him die.”
“Can you turn back the clock and prevent Kemal from striking the blow? That’s the only way you can help. The rest is not in our hands.”
She closed her eyes as sickness swept over her. She must not give in to this weakness born of despair. She could not help Ware unless she remained strong. Her eyes flicked open. “Can we move him?”
Kadar shook his head.
“Then we will set up camp here.”
“They’re gone.” Selene’s wondering gaze was fixed on the ledge where the robed figures had stood. “Where did they go?”
“Back to the fortress. They accomplished what they came for.”
Not in time, Thea thought. Not before Ware was struck down. “I’ll tend him, and you must make sure we’re not disturbed until he’s well.”
“A small task,” Kadar said with irony. “I must contend only with the Old Man of the Mountain, on whose land we’re trespassing, and Kemal, who is sure he cannot be defeated as long as he carries your banner.”
“Then take the banner away from him,” she said. “But first help me remove Ware’s armor.”
Selene stepped forward. “I’ll help you.” She knelt beside Ware. “Together we can do it.” She fixed Kadar with a stern look. “Go about your business and let us tend to ours.”
“Yes, my lady.” He bowed mockingly. “Should I have a favor to carry into battle?”
“If you’re clever, you won’t have to do battle,” Selene said. “So be clever. This Sinan must bear you some affection if he took the trouble to scare off Kemal. Go