Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [148]
“Yes.” His lips thinned. “I will take no chances.”
She sighed and leaned against him. It was the answer she had expected. Ware had lived too long as a hunted man ever to feel safe. “Well, could you not delay—”
“A rider comes, my lord.” Haroun’s eyes were bright with excitement as he ran toward them. “From the south.”
Ware tensed, and she put a soothing hand on his arm. “It could be Lord Kenneth from Craighdhu. You know he’s been riding here to see Selene.”
He was not listening; he was striding up the hill to a higher vantage point.
She followed him. “I tell you, it need not be danger.”
His muscles were locked, his eyes on the approaching rider.
It was not Lord Kenneth. The armor of the man coming toward them shone brightly in the sunlight, and he rode a white horse. She had seen that horse only once before, but she would never forget it.
“My God,” Ware muttered.
“Vaden.” Fear tore through her. “Alone?”
“So it appears.”
A little of her terror ebbed. Even if Vaden had changed his mind and come after Ware, this was Ware’s place and hers, their land, their people. One man alone could not prevail against their numbers.
But Vaden was a great warrior who possessed a strange hold over Ware. Who knew what would happen if Vaden challenged him to a battle, one on one? Ware had said he wasn’t certain he could best him.
Vaden stopped his horse and sat looking up at Ware.
He was drawing his sword!
He hurled the weapon with such a force that its point pierced the ground and the sword stood vibrating back and forth.
He nudged his horse and continued up the hill.
“What does it mean?” she whispered.
“I’m not sure,” Ware said. “But I think it’s a white flag.”
Dear God, Ware’s expression was full of eagerness. Vaden had many other weapons, and yet Ware was placing his trust in him. “Let me call Abdul.”
He didn’t take his gaze from Vaden. “No.”
She took a protective step closer to him and watched Vaden come toward them.
Vaden reined in a few yards distant from where they stood and took off his helmet. “No wonder you chose to come to the Holy Land, Ware. The land of your birth is not a welcoming place.”
She stared at Vaden, stunned. At their first encounter he had been covered with black soot, and she had been conscious only of danger and devilish ferocity. This man had the bright manly beauty of Apollo. Tawny hair framed a face whose perfection held one spellbound, and she could see his eyes were a glittering sapphire-blue. She impatiently shook off her amazement. What difference did it make that he did not look like a gargoyle? He was still a threat. “And we do not welcome you either. What are you doing here?”
Vaden’s gaze turned to Thea. “Ah, the lady Thea. Greetings. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you in less unhappy circumstances.” His gaze shifted to her belly. “Your child, Ware?”
“Yes.” He paused. “And my wife. You should not have come, Vaden. I cannot let you leave to tell others where we are.”
“How do you know they don’t know already?”
“Do they?”
“I could tell you that they do. It would save my life. You look for an excuse not to kill me.”
Thea felt a rush of despair as she realized how well Vaden knew Ware. Knowledge was a greater weapon in his hands than the sword in the ground. “Stop toying with us. How did you find out where we’d gone?”
“The Old Man of the Mountain.”
Ware shook his head. “He would never have told a Knights Templar. He’d have killed you before you set foot in the fortress.”
“He almost did. Several times. It was a long, laborious process. I stalked him as I stalked you, Ware.” He smiled. “Finally it began to amuse him, and he allowed me into his rather gruesome presence. But it was almost another year before I could persuade him to give me the information I wanted. He cared nothing about you, but I had to give him my promise I’d leave your friend Kadar untouched.”
The story was incredible, but Thea could almost visualize the