Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [44]
She whirled as a branch crashed to the ground. Abdul’s sword cleaved through the air and bit into another branch.
“No!” She ran toward him. “Stop it.”
He stared at her, startled.
“Stand back.” Ware was striding toward her. “He’s only getting your leaves.” He gestured to the soldiers who were moving with swords drawn on the trees. “For God’s sake, that’s what you want.”
“You must pick the leaves and leave the branches. I won’t have the trees destroyed.”
“It will take twice as long,” Abdul said. “And we have no ladders for climbing.”
“Is that how you got my leaves?” Thea asked Ware.
“Did you think I blew on them and they fell to the earth?” Ware asked.
“I suppose it’s my fault. I should have told you to be careful of the trees.” She turned back to Abdul. “But you cannot cut these branches.”
Abdul looked at Ware.
“I’ll not have my soldiers take off their armor to climb those trees,” Ware said grimly.
“Then I’ll pick the leaves myself,” Thea said. “It will take a little longer, but I told you we don’t need a wagonload of leaves.”
“I don’t want it to take longer.” He stared at her determined expression and then whirled away in exasperation. “By all the saints. Abdul, have those men climb the lower branches and pick the leaves. But they’re not to take off their armor.”
Abdul sighed and turned away.
“I’m truly not being unreasonable,” Thea said. “These mulberry trees are very important. If you could see what beauty results from the—”
“It’s being done,” Ware said. “It doesn’t matter if it’s reasonable or not. I just want this over as quickly as possible.” He grimaced. “And I’d wager my men feel the same way. That armor is heavy and not meant to be worn when climbing trees. Besides, there is little dignity in the task. A soldier should not be asked to climb trees and pick leaves.”
“It’s a worthy task,” Thea said. “It should make no difference who does it. A tree gives sustenance—”
A crash behind her.
She whirled angrily, thinking that Abdul had disobeyed Ware’s order.
Abdul was sprawled beneath the tree, clutching a leaf to his armored chest. “I slipped,” he said apologetically to Ware.
“I see you did,” Ware said solemnly.
“It won’t happen again, my lord.”
Another crash. Another soldier fell to earth. Abdul gloomily amended, “Or maybe it will.”
“I hope not,” Ware said.
“I should go help.” Thea frowned worriedly. “I want no one harmed.”
“Stay,” Ware murmured. “The branches are too close to the ground to offer more harm than a bruise or two.”
She became conscious of some emotion beneath Ware’s impassiveness. His gaze was narrowed as he watched the soldiers struggle clumsily on the branches. It was as if he were waiting for something.
Another soldier crashed to earth.
She heard a strangled sound from Ware.
A minute later a fourth man sprawled on the ground.
“They’re falling like overripe oranges,” Ware gasped.
“It’s not fair they should—” She started toward the grove. “I’ll tell them to come down.”
Ware grabbed her arm. “Don’t you dare.”
“But I cannot let—”
Ware was laughing. His entire body was shaking with mirth. He had to reach out and grab at his saddle to keep upright.
“You think it funny?” she asked wonderingly.
“Like oranges.” Tears were running down his cheeks. “Like oranges…”
He was not the only one laughing. She saw to her amazement that the soldiers in the grove were also roaring with laughter.
A fifth armored soldier slipped from a limb, spreading his arms like wings as he tried to catch his balance.
She found her own lips twitching. “I should not—It’s my fault that—” She couldn’t help it. She started to laugh and couldn’t stop. When she could speak, she shook her head. “When I was at Jedha, I didn’t think