Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [30]
She snorted. “You’re perhaps two years older than I am.”
“Ah, Thea, I was older than you when I was in the cradle.”
She opened her lips to argue with him and then shut them again. In spite of his flippant remarks and smiling face, she still sometimes caught a glimpse of the Kadar she had seen when he had shown her his falcons.
Kadar chuckled. “If I’d had a cradle. We were too poor. I slept on the floor of our cottage, wrapped in a blanket. I think that was why I walked so soon. I was afraid the rats would eat me if I didn’t run away from them.”
She shivered. “That is not funny.”
“No, but it’s better to laugh at such things than dwell on them.” He paused. “Did you worry about the rats when you were a child, Thea?”
“No.” Nicholas would have been enraged if there had been any rats near his beautiful silks. She suddenly realized he had done it again—slipped another question into the conversation. She asked in exasperation, “When will you take me to Damascus? I’m well now.”
“Soon. There is no hurry.”
He might not be in a hurry, but Selene was still in Constantinople. The longer Thea took to establish herself, the longer Selene would have to bear the life at Nicholas’s house.
“I wish to leave tomorrow.”
“We will see. Would you like to start a game of chess before you go to bed?”
“No.” She cast a glance at Haroun, who had just finished lighting the last torch on the battlements. He smiled and waved at her. She felt another pang as she lifted her hand in response. She wanted Selene here now. She wanted to see her smile and know she was well and happy.
No, she was lying to herself. She was also being selfish. Selene was the only person she loved, and she needed someone to love in this alien land.
“You look sad.” Kadar urged softly, “Tell me your thoughts.”
The man would not stop.
“I will not tell you my thoughts.” She strode into the castle. “I’m going to bed.”
Two nights later she noticed it was not Haroun who was lighting the torches but one of the soldiers.
“He is gone,” Kadar answered when she asked about it. “He went back to his village last night. Ware wasn’t pleased with him. He was too young.”
“But he was so proud….” Anger flared through her. “How old would he have to be to light the torches and run errands?”
“He was too young,” Kadar repeated. “This is not a place for children.”
No, she thought bitterly, it was a place where women were kept only to couple and serve and men were taught to wage war. “He should not have sent him away.”
Kadar shrugged. “He thought it best.”
Her gaze lifted to the shadowy figure on the battlements. Ware was always there this time of evening, looking out at the mountains.
Ware had thought it best, and a boy’s life had been changed. Ware felt lust, and a woman rushed to his bed. Ware refused permission, and the gates would not be opened for her.
By the saints, she could do nothing about altering his power over the others, but she would not let him hold her there.
She turned and ran across the courtyard.
“Where are you going?” Kadar called, startled.
She didn’t answer as she flew through the hall, then up the steps and finally the long, twisting stairway.
She threw open the door and strode out onto the battlements. She stopped for a moment before approaching him, catching her breath and gathering her arguments.
Sweet Jesus, he looked alone. She could almost touch the wall of terrible isolation that surrounded him.
Well, if he was alone, it was his own doing. A man could expect nothing else if he pushed everyone away from him. She would not feel sorry for him. She had her own worries and he was one of them.
She strode forward until she stood beside him.
“I must talk to you,” Thea said.
Ware’s gaze never left the mountains. “It’s late. Go to your bed.”
“It’s not late. It’s been five days. Why are you keeping me here?”
He still didn’t look at her. “Kadar says you’re not healed.”
She snorted. “Even my burn is gone.” She moved closer to him. “I cannot