Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [52]
Like a phantom, Ware had said. A deadly phantom…“He cannot mean it. All this makes no sense.”
“He means it.” He stopped at the stable door and looked down at her. “I’ll leave orders with Abdul that if I don’t return, he’s to take you from here to a place of safety. You’re not to argue, you’re just to go. Do you understand?”
“No, I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this.”
“Go back to the castle.” He entered the stable. “I’ve no time to explain.”
She started to follow him and then stopped. He would not be dissuaded, she realized in frustration. He would ride out and try to kill that man who had threatened her life.
It was all madness. He had to be mistaken.
But he was certain enough to risk his life to try to prevent her murder.
She moved slowly toward the castle.
Why weren’t women trained to fight their own battles instead of relying on men to do it for them? But it was not her battle. She had nothing to do with Ware of Dundragon. Fate had sent her whirling into his life to be faced with a danger she knew nothing about. It was not fair.
But she was not being fair either. He had saved her and was bringing Selene to her. If he had not bothered to replenish her supply of mulberry leaves, he wouldn’t have to venture now from the castle and seek out this madman who wanted to kill her. He was as much a victim of fate as she.
Darkness fell and Ware had still not returned.
She climbed to the falcons’ tower and stood looking out over the countryside.
No fire burned on the third mountain.
Did that mean that Vaden had turned hunter?
A chill went through her. Ware might die this night. He might already be dead.
She closed her eyes as a wave of sickness washed over her. It should not mean this much to her. He was almost a stranger, and he had never sought her friendship. In truth, he had rejected her on any number of occasions. He was a rough, arrogant warrior interested only in battle and the gold he received for fighting.
Yet he had somehow touched her. She had wanted to draw closer to him, protect him, help him. By all the saints, she should not have let it happen. Selene and her new life should be the only things of importance to her. She had told Kadar she was selfish, and she should have guarded that selfishness with all her strength.
There was no use looking back in regret, she thought wearily. He had managed to creep under her guard, so she must stop fighting and accept it. She must find a place for him.
If it was not too late.
It was close to midnight when Thea heard the challenge from the guard at the drawbridge.
She flew down the steps and was waiting when Ware rode through the gates.
“What are you doing here?” He dismounted and threw the reins of his horse to a stable boy. “The night is chill. Have you nothing better to do than wander around the courtyard at midnight?”
She was so glad to see him that she felt no anger at his surliness. She said lightly, “I suppose I could have occupied myself by checking those terrible accounts, but there’s no Dundragon without you, and I wasn’t sure you’d be back. I hate to waste time.”
He pulled off his helmet and wearily ran his hand through his hair. “I couldn’t find him.”
“Well, he didn’t find you either.” She turned and moved up the steps. “Get out of that armor and come to the Great Hall. I’ll have meat and bread ready.”
He frowned. “What if I don’t want to eat?”
“Do it anyway.” She tossed over her shoulder as she entered the castle, “I know it delights you to be contrary, but it will only hurt you to refuse to eat when you must feel hungry. You haven’t eaten all day.”
“I’m not contrary. I don’t like to be ordered about by—”
She didn’t wait for him to finish. Instead she strode quickly through the hall and down to the scullery.
She was kneeling, stoking the fire, when he entered the Great Hall. His face was clean, his hair wet, she noticed; he must have refreshed himself at the well after he’d removed his armor. She jerked her head toward the table.