Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [27]
Jasmine took the gown and draped it over her arm. “I will see that she’s safe.” She moved toward the door. “I will have the gown ready for tomorrow.”
“But ask Tasza if I may have it.”
Jasmine frowned in disgust. “Very well. Though it’s a waste of time. She always does what I tell her.”
“I meant it, you know.” Ware bit into a wing. “You should leave Dundragon. You’ve been here too long.”
Kadar shook his head. “I’ve not been here long enough. If I had, your manners would be too polished to try to cast me out so rudely. You clearly still have need of me.”
“I don’t need anyone.” Ware pushed the plate away and leaned back in his chair. “Where’s the woman?”
“She declined the honor of our presence. She prefers to eat in her chamber. You must have been particularly surly to our guest. She was only trying to help you.”
“I wasn’t surly.” He thought about it and then added, “For me.”
“Which doesn’t say a great deal.” Kadar reached for his wine. “Did she help you?”
“Yes.” By the time she had finished, his muscles had felt so soft and melting, he had thought he would dissolve into the water. But that had changed in the space of a heartbeat after he had taken her hand. By the saints, he had not been soft then. “But Tasza helped me more.” It was not true. Tasza had eased his lust, but he had been left curiously unsatisfied. “I want you to take the Greek woman to Damascus day after tomorrow. Find her a place in a fine shop and stay with her until you’re sure she’s safely established.” He took a drink of wine. “And then go your own way. Don’t come back here.”
“This is a fine wine,” Kadar said. “I don’t think I could be content with a lesser stock now.” He moved to the hearth and curled up in his favorite place before the fire. “I taught Thea to play chess today. She’s very clever but has curious gaps in learning. She can cipher and read and write. She speaks Greek, Arabic, and French. Yet she has never learned to play a game, never heard a troubadour tell a tale, never seen anyone dance or danced herself. She knows what is going on in the world, but it’s as if she learned it behind the walls of a convent.”
Ware’s hand tightened on the goblet as he remembered Thea’s matter-of-fact words regarding her work on the carpets at the House of Nicholas. “Not unless the good sisters’ discipline is crueler than I can imagine.”
“And I’ve told you I think she’s running away from something,” Kadar said. “If she’s as skilled as she claims, she might be considered valuable enough to follow.”
“Once she’s safe in Damascus, she’s no longer my responsibility. I’ll cut all ties.”
“Some ties cannot be broken. You saved her life.”
“I’ll cut all ties,” he repeated.
“Vaden held his hand,” Kadar said softly. “It could mean the danger is over.”
Ware knew that Kadar didn’t understand. He had tried to warn him without telling him too much but had succeeded only in making Kadar believe the threat less than it was. The danger would never be over, even when Ware was dead. “Go away from Dundragon. Go to Egypt. Go north to China. Just get away from me.”
As if he hadn’t spoken, Kadar said, “I think we must find out what threatens her before I take her to Damascus. It should take at least a week. I would hate to have you be forced to go rescue her at some later time.”
“I would not be forced to—” He broke off as he met Kadar’s bland gaze. It was no use, he realized in frustration. Kadar would think and do exactly as he pleased. “You’re leaving day after tomorrow.” He pushed his chair back and stood up. “I’m going to the battlements.”
“And I’ll stay here by the fire and drink this fine wine.” He leaned back against the stones of the fireplace. “And plan how to convince Thea it’s safe to confide in us…in the next week.”
No fire burned on the third mountain.
Ware’s hands slowly clenched into fists at his sides as he looked out into the darkness.
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