Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [29]
His sergeant broke off his conversation with one of the guards and hurried forward from the other end of the battlement.
Ware gestured to the boy. “He’s too young. Send him home.”
“Haroun is a good lad. I thought—His father is dead. He needs the money to support his mother.”
Ware scowled. “I can’t be expected to support the entire village. Am I now to take babies away from their mothers? Send him home.”
Abdul nodded and turned away.
“Tell him he can come back in a few years’ time.”
Abdul nodded again.
“And see that his mother doesn’t want until he reaches the proper age.”
A broad grin lit Abdul’s face. “Yes, my lord.”
“And don’t do this again. No younger than ten and six.”
“Yes, my lord.” Abdul hurried back to the soldier on the battlements.
Laughter again.
He glanced down at the courtyard. She was smiling at Haroun, and he was looking at her as if she burned as bright as that torch in his hand.
He might well be right. She exuded a fire and strength he had never seen in another woman. Even in her most vulnerable moments she had shown a courage he would have applauded in any of his soldiers.
She and Kadar were walking with Haroun to light the torches by the front door.
Even her walk was different from that of other women. Her stride was graceful but purposeful, with a touch of almost militant boldness. What life had shaped that boldness?
He frowned as he realized where his thoughts had led him. Let Kadar wonder about her, he would not. He would keep her at the same distance as he did everyone else.
She threw back her head and laughed again. The sound carried full-bodied and rich on the evening air. She never laughed when in his presence. She was always wary and tense, as if she were afraid he’d spring at her. Perhaps she should be wary. He wanted to spring on her. He wanted to loosen her braid and cover his naked body with that fair, silky hair. He wanted to cup her breasts in his hands and spread her thighs and go deep within her.
Christ, he was hardening just thinking about it.
So he would not think about it. She was only a woman, like any other. He would call for a woman to sooth his lust and dismiss the Greek from his mind.
“Today I only light the torches, but someday I shall be a great soldier,” Haroun boasted. “Just like Lord Ware.”
Thea smiled indulgently. The boy was truly irresistible, with those burning dark eyes and endearing smile. “I’m sure you’re a very great lighter of torches. There’s time for the rest.”
His smile vanished and he shook his head. “I must do it right away. I have responsibilities.”
“And one of them is lighting the torches,” Kadar said. “Abdul will not be pleased if they’re not lit by the time darkness has fallen.”
Haroun gave him a stricken glance. “At once, Lord Kadar.”
A smile still lingered on Thea’s lips as she watched the young boy dash away to the ladder leading to the battlement. She enjoyed the few minutes’ chat with Haroun every evening. He was so proud of his place in this grim fortress.
“We should go in,” Kadar said. “It grows cool.”
“In a moment.” Her gaze followed Haroun as he went from torch to torch, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Children always left brightness where they passed. She murmured, “He reminds me of Selene.”
“Who is Selene?”
The question brought her abruptly back to the present. She turned and started up the steps. “You’re right, it’s growing cool.”
“Do you think I’m going to ride off and capture this Selene if you tell me who she is?” Kadar asked as he followed her. “What must I say to prove I wish only what is best for you? Am I not the most charming and kindhearted of men?”
He was both of those things, but he was also the most persistent man she had ever met. During the past three days he had found a way to insinuate at least one subtle inquiry into every conversation. “If you were as kindhearted as you claim, you wouldn’t plague me with questions I don’t wish to answer.”
“But that’s only an example of my