Lion's Bride - Iris Johansen [82]
“Thea isn’t Eleanor,” Ware said. “It would be unwise of you to become confused.”
“You’re warning me?”
“I’m reminding you…of Jedha. If Thea was killed, you would bear the guilt. You’ll have your own Jedha. I promise you that you’d not like the nightmares that would come after.”
Kadar’s smile faded. “A persuasive argument. Perhaps I’ll wait awhile and see what comes of this search for a haven.”
Ware smiled without mirth. “I thought you would. It’s all very well to have a tender heart, but you must strike a balance. We can never have everything we wish. A price must always be paid.”
“And Thea must pay it?”
Ware turned back to the window. “She won’t be the only one.”
THE SILK WAS BEAUTIFUL, shimmering with a pearllike luminosity on her standing frame.
Thea always loved this moment of anticipation before she began. Soon glowing stitches of color would unfurl on that silken canvas. Her stitches, her design. She reluctantly turned away from the silk, sat down at the table, and picked up her pen.
But what design?
She closed her eyes and emptied her mind of everything around her. Ware. Think of Ware.
She could hear the sound of birds in the trees below her window, the soft rush of wind.
Or was it the whisper?
Not yet. Soon.
Ware. Ware’s banner.
She opened her eyes and began to sketch. It came slowly at first, and then faster. No doubt. No hesitation. Soon every stroke of the pen came with absolute certainty. The picture in her mind was so clear, she could see every detail.
Strange, it had never been this clear before….
“You must eat,” Jasmine said from the doorway.
“Later.” Thea drew the gold thread through the silk.
“Now. You’ve not eaten at all today.” Jasmine closed the door. “And only scraps for the last three days. You’ll become ill.”
“No, I won’t.”
“And Selene says you don’t sleep.”
“Of course I sleep.” She wished the woman would go away. The gold was dazzling against the creamy silk, and she felt a rush of pleasure. Every stitch brought her that same deep satisfaction and anticipation.
“Not much.” Jasmine crossed the room and stood in front of the loom. “I’m not sure I wish to learn this skill if it drives one out of one’s senses.”
“I’m not out of my senses. I’m working.”
Jasmine snorted. “All the hours of the day and night.”
“I want to finish the banner so we can go to Damascus.”
“You’ll not finish it at all if you go blind from working by that dim candlelight.”
Even working by candlelight hadn’t damaged the quality of the work. Every morning when Thea examined the embroidery, every stitch done the night before was perfect. She bent forward and guided the needle through the silk.
“You’re not listening to me,” Jasmine said.
“Leave the tray. I’ll eat later.”
She scarcely heard Jasmine leave the chamber. Another silken stitch, another rush of intense pleasure.
The design was growing, coming alive beneath her needle….
“Thea?” Selene whispered. “Please come to bed.”
“Not yet.”
Selene sighed and settled down on the floor beside Thea’s stool. “I’ll be glad when you’re finished. I’ve never seen you like this.”
“I want it to be beautiful. It’s got to be beautiful.”
“If Lord Ware were here, he would not permit you to suffer like this for his sake.”
Suffer? Thea almost laughed aloud. Working on the banner was as far from suffering as could be imagined. It was like living in a beautiful dream and working to make that dream even more true and shining. “Lord Ware is not here?”
Selene shook her head. “He and Kadar left four days ago.”
“Where did they go?”
“I don’t know. But Kadar said he’d be back within two weeks’ time.”
Oh, well, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the complexity of the pattern, the tightness of the stitches. No, that was wrong. There was something that did matter. Ware had to be safe. “Did he take Abdul?”
“No. He had a large escort, but Abdul stayed here.”
But Ware was protected. Good. Now she could return her concentration to the banner.
Selene studied the embroidered silk on the