Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [53]
“Yes.” He sat down and picked up a piece of meat. He scowled. “And I’m not contrary.”
“Of course you are.” She sat down at the table and poured him a goblet of wine. “And stubborn and rude and most annoying.”
He glared at her suspiciously. “You’re very cheerful.”
“Because I’m glad you’re back. I discovered something while you were gone.” She made a rueful face. “I find I have a liking for you.”
He stopped with the meat halfway to his mouth. “I beg your pardon?”
“I know it’s astonishing, since you’re most unlikable. It surprised me also. I’ve decided that I must have the same weakness in my character as Kadar. Or perhaps it’s poor judgment. At any rate, liking you will make keeping you company easier. I’ve not had much experience, but I hear friends make excellent company.”
He went still. “I’m not your friend.”
“Yes, you are. Or will be.”
“I’ve no desire to be your friend.”
“You’ve no choice. You’ve saved my life and you’re giving me Selene. Those are the acts of a friend.”
“Those were the acts of necessity.”
He was making this very difficult; but, then, he was a difficult man. In those hours in the tower she had determined that she would not be dissuaded. “You’re kinder than you would have it known.” She leaned back in her chair. “Finish eating. I’ll be silent. All this talk of kindness and friendship must be disturbing to one as churlish as you. I wouldn’t like you to have a bellyache.”
He finished his meat and reached for an apple. “I’m not churlish.” His teeth sank deep into the apple. “You call me your friend and then insult me.”
“I tell the truth. I’ve decided that I must accept your churlishness and try to find qualities in you to admire.” She smiled at him. “You cannot dissuade me. I will be your friend. Ware of Dundragon.”
“You will not—” He suddenly leaned back in his chair and wearily closed his eyes. “Do what you will. I suppose it makes no difference now. It’s too late. None of it matters.”
She stared at him in surprise. She had not expected surrender. It would not last, and she must take advantage of this unusual vulnerability. “If it doesn’t matter, tell me why this Vaden wishes to kill me.”
His lids opened, and she was shocked at the hollow desolation she saw there. “You laughed with me. You touched me.”
“What?”
“Vaden knows that you’re more than a woman for my bed. He’s afraid I might talk to you.” His laughter held a hint of desperation. “As I am doing now. I find it amusing that he drove me to the very thing they most want to avoid.”
It was not amusing. Thea had never seen such despair.
“You wish to be my friend?” He lifted his goblet to his lips. “You’ll change your mind. I’m not allowed to have friends. My friends die.”
It took her a moment to recover from the shock brought by his words. “Kadar is your friend. He’s not dead.”
“Yet. If he doesn’t leave me, they’ll kill him.”
“But why?”
“I told you. They won’t take the chance. Vaden has been waiting and watching for over two years. He knows Kadar has been at my side.”
“That doesn’t mean he’ll murder him. Wouldn’t he have done it before this?”
“He could afford to bide his time as long as Kadar is with me. He’s not like those others who murdered Phillipe. Vaden will kill me before he strikes at anyone else.”
“Phillipe?”
“My friend Phillipe of Girodeau. His kinsman Jeffrey was killed by the Templars, but Phillipe helped me anyway when I fled the Temple. For two months we scurried from place to place trying to hide. One night he insisted on going out of the caves to find food, and they captured him. When I found him, he’d been left for dead.” His voice hoarsened. “They’d tortured him to make him tell where I was hiding. He was in such pain that he could barely speak to me. He kept saying, ‘I didn’t tell. They couldn’t make me tell. Dear God, why, Ware? Why are they doing this to us?’” He poured himself another goblet of wine. “He died because I let him come too close.”
So no one must