He smiled and turned his face to kiss her palms each in turn. "You never lost me. You never came close to losing me."
"Oh, you are such a frightful liar." She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his breastbone. "Your uncle, too. He would not tell me how close to death you were, not for the longest time. But I was inconsolable, Owen. I love you so much."
He tipped her head up, then kissed her. She melted into his arms, her hands running beneath his jacket, holding him tightly. She broke the kiss, then kissed his chest. "I thought I should never have you in my arms again."
"I am here, now, Catherine."
"Yes, you are." She pulled back and took both his hands in hers. She led him into the hallway and deeper into the apartments. On the left, toward the back, she brought him into a bedroom and bade him sit on the bed. She knelt and tugged his boots off, then stripped him of hose.
"Your uncle brought me to Mystria because I could not bear to be without you. He said nothing of my passage on the packet boat to surprise you. I had to go with him, of course, since it would not do for me to be left alone on a troop transport. You soldiers can be such a randy lot."
Owen stared at her. "If one of them touched you…"
"Calm yourself, Owen. None of them did, beloved. None of them touched me as you have, as you will." She peeled his coat off him and slowly unbuttoned his waistcoat. Both of them she deposited on a spindly chair, pausing then to kiss him again and press herself to him. Smiling, she unbuttoned his shirt, teasing, kissing exposed flesh.
His hands rose to hers, stopping her halfway.
"There are new scars, Catherine."
"They are part of you, husband, so I love them." She opened his shirt and shivered, but just for a moment. Her smile grew wide again. She leaned in and kissed the bullet wound on his left flank.
Owen gasped. Until the heat of her kisses flowed into his flesh, he had not realized how alone he felt. Part of his captivity had remained with him, grown out of the dreams where Catherine held herself apart. She had feared losing him, and deep down, he had feared losing her. One kiss, a kiss which was but the harbinger of many more, was enough to banish that fear.
Sinking to her knees in a rustle of linen, Catherine unbuttoned his breeches and stripped him naked. She ran her hands from his waist along his thighs, her thumbs brushing over his bullet wounds, her fingers tracing the splinter scars on his hip. Her breath warmed his skin as she kissed the wounds on his thighs.
She looked into his eyes. "I have missed you so, Owen, you cannot know my agonies, my fears." She kissed his flesh again. "But now they have all evaporated."
He drew her to her feet. He began to fuss with the knotted lacings of her gown, but she pushed his hands away. She gathered pillows on the bed and directed him to lay against them, kissing him once, then pressing a finger to his lips.
She loosened the ties that bound her into her gown and let the dress slip to the floor. She was as he remembered her, slender with full breasts and large nipples. He smiled, and she blew out the bedside candle. Then she slid onto the bed and straddled him.
Catherine unfastened her hair. It cascaded down about her shoulders. She leaned forward, kissing him again, then whispered, "I feared I had lost you, Owen. I will now rediscover you, every inch of you, and show you how so completely I missed you."
Chapter Fifty-Three
May 30, 1764
Temperance
Temperance Bay, Mystria
"T ruth be told, sir, I ain't too proud to acknowledge I am pleased to be leaving Temperance behind." Nathaniel walked beside Major Forest. "Every foot between me and Bishop Bumble makes me happy."
Forest smiled. "It was good he gave us that blessing before we headed out. His heart is in the right place."
Nathaniel frowned, unsure he believed Bumble had a heart. The Bishop had offered an hour-long sermon on the horrors of Tharyngian society, telling the men that their mission was really God's plan. He offered numerous scriptures to underscore this opinion, even mentioning the Good Lord wandering for forty days and forty nights in the wilderness. "Not sure I find tales of the Lord wandering and lost much of a good omen, Major."
"Your feelings not withstanding, Captain Woods, I'm sure the sermon was a comfort to some." Forest's eyes narrowed. "Everyone fell out properly."
"True, sir, with a few exceptions."
By rule both companies of the Mystrian Rangers carried a hundred rounds of ball or bullet per man. The riflemen among them had an added twenty of the prince's pasmorte killers. All of them had their long guns in a deer- or moose-skin case. Most all the men had decorated them with beads, buttons, bits of shell, or fancy stitching. They carried hatchets or tomahawks and knives.
Each carried two types of packs. The first, consisting of a blanket wrapped in bearskin, had a strap looped through its middle. That loop settled over the man's shoulders and across his chest rather high. A few men tucked some notions in the blanket, but nothing too heavy. A canvas cloth rolled up and tied on either end into a loop made up the second pack. It closely resembled a big sausage. The men carried rice, beans, some salt, some sausage and salt pork in it, as well as eating utensils, some ginger, sugar, and tea.
In a separate satchel they kept bullet molds, lead, spare firestones, and tools. Because these things tended to be heavy, four or five men would share them, passing the satchel around every couple of miles. Nathaniel had his own satchel with the molds, but Makepeace offered to haul it since they both used the same rounds.
Nathaniel smiled as the troops marched along. No one would mistake them for Norillian troops, as they looked far more raggedy than professional soldiers. In general, the Rangers all dressed alike, wearing moccasins and leather leggings, breeches, leather tunics or homespun shirts, with short jackets over them, and caps. The similarity ended there, however, as colors marked the men as different. Caleb and his college friends all wore sashes of maroon and gold around their middles. The men from Summerland had their red caps. The Branches and Casks all wore foxskin caps, while the southerners had adopted the Fairlee militia's green coat.
Nathaniel hadn't been immune to sprucing up his appearance. He decorated his slouch-brimmed, black felt hat with a band of jeopard fur. William's mother had made him a necklace with bear and jeopard claws-the bear claws for his relationship to Msitazi, and the jeopard claws to celebrate his warrior nature. Just seeing that made some men smile and soured Rufus Branch's expression right quick.
Caleb's men-whom the others had taken to calling the Bookworms-had made a point of carrying a diary, pencils or pens, and at least one other book. They planned, during pauses in the marches, to read to each other, continuing their education on the way. Not to be outdone, Makepeace had managed to find himself a copy of the Bible and threatened to read the entire thing to every Tharyngian left alive at Fort Cuivre.
"I reckon them books will get heavy, Major."
"I believe you are correct. I suggested they read from one of them until it was finished, then move to the next. I suspect some will be abandoned in Hattersburg."
"We'll be leaving more than books." Nathaniel pointed to a skinny man whose buckskin clothes hung on him like mammoth hide on a mouse. "It was kindly of Bishop Bumble to give us Mr. Beecher to tend to our spiritual needs, but he ain't gonna make it."
"It could be worse."
Nathaniel smiled. At the end of his sermon, Bishop Bumble announced that he would accompany Lord Rivendell and his army. This appeared to surprise his wife, who began crying and had to be comforted by Lilith and Mrs. Frost. Mrs. Frost appeared a bit weepy, too, but she put on a brave face when she said her good-byes to Caleb.
"True enough, Major." Justice Bone, who got himself elected Corporal in charge of the third squad, had picked Beecher as part of his squad. The other men split up his heavier gear, leaving him with a knife, his Bible, and his blanket pack. The squad would eat their way through his supplies first, then let him