Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [3]
Ware frowned with impatience. “You know we take no one to Dundragon.”
“I fear we must make an exception. Unless you intend to leave her here to die.” Kadar shook his head. “And that would not be appropriate. It would defy a law of nature. After all, you’ve saved her life. Now she belongs to you.”
Ware grunted scornfully.
Kadar shook his head and sighed. “I’ve tried to explain this to you before. You don’t understand. It’s a law of—”
“Nature,” Ware finished. “I think it’s more Kadar’s law.”
“Well, it’s true I’m often far wiser than nature, and also more interesting, but I can’t claim to be as all-powerful.” He added, “Yet. But I’m only ten and nine. There’s still time.”
“We don’t take her to Dundragon,” Ware said flatly.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to stay here and protect her.” He sat down beside the woman and crossed his legs. “Go on. I ask only that you leave a skin of water and a few grains of food.”
Ware glared at him.
“Of course, Hassan may come upon us. I’ll be outnumbered, and you know I have no skill with weapons. There’s also the possibility that Guy de Lusanne may pass this way on his glorious journey to Jerusalem. It’s rumored his troops are no more godly than Hassan’s.” Kadar smiled guilelessly. “But you must not worry about me. Forget that I saved your life in that den of assassins.”
“I will.” Ware stood up and mounted his horse. “I didn’t ask for your help then nor your company now.” He wheeled, lifted his hand, and motioned the riders forward.
Someone was holding her, gently rocking back and forth.
Mother?
Yes, it must be her mother. She was back in the House of Nicholas, and soon she would open her eyes and see that sad, gentle face. Her mother was always gentle, and her meekness filled Thea with wild frustration.
Not for me. I’ll not let them break me. Not you, either. Let me help you and together we can leave this place. You’re afraid? Then let me be strong enough for both of us.
But Thea hadn’t been strong enough, and her mother would be even more unhappy when she learned how Thea had failed her.
A sharp pang of regret surged through her.
I tried to keep my promise to save Selene. I won’t give up. Soon I’ll be stronger and try again. Forgive me, Mother. You’ll see that Selene—
But her mother would see nothing ever again, she remembered suddenly. She had died long ago….
But if this was not her mother, who was holding her with such tenderness?
She slowly opened her lids.
“Ah, you’re awake. Good.”
She was being held by a handsome young man with great dark eyes, a sweet smile—A turban!
Savage.
She started to struggle.
“No. No.” He held her immobile with surprising strength for one so slim. “I mean you no harm. I’m Kadar ben Arnaud.”
Her eyes blazed up at him. “Saracen.”
“Armenian, but my father was a Frank. In truth, my mother’s people have proved more civilized than my father’s.” He gazed soberly down at her. “And I’m not of the band who attacked you. You were with the caravan from Constantinople?”
“Let me go.”
He released her at once.
She rolled away from him and scrambled to her knees.
“You see, I don’t hold you captive. I wish only the best for you.”
She could not trust him.
Yet there was nothing but gentleness in his expression.
But there had been that other man who was neither gentle nor merciful.
She glanced around but saw no one else in sight, only a single horse a dozen yards away.
“They’ve gone away.” He set the water skin before her. “More water? I don’t think Ware gave you enough.”
She looked at the container as if it were a scorpion about to sting her.
“It’s not poisoned.” He smiled. “You drank for Ware, now drink for me.”
His smile was the most irresistible she had ever seen, and his tone was like dark velvet. She felt a little of her fear subside. “I don’t know this…Ware.”
“Lord Ware of Dundragon. You struck him several times. I’d think some memory would linger.”
Cold blue eyes, gleaming mail and helmet, bruising pain in her shoulders. “He hurt me.”
“He meant no