“And yet you’ve never asked me if I want children. Quite honestly, Thero, I don’t care much whether I have any or not, and certainly not now. At this point I’d consider it an advantage, really, not having to worry about it. And I’m not the heir, so it doesn’t matter to anyone else, either.” She stopped, and the teasing smile slowly faded. “Or is it that you don’t want to be tied to a lover who will age and die?”
“Illior willing, I’ll be there to see that, regardless of-anything.” This brought them to the nub of the issue. “Could you bear to see me stay young?”
“I’d certainly be getting the better end of the bargain.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I!” Klia sighed and turned away to the window. “I suppose Beka and Nyal had this very conversation.”
“No doubt.”
“But you see how happy they are, even here in the field.”
“But will that same light be in her eyes after two decades, or three?”
“Don’t you mean in his?” Klia asked bitterly. “When he looks at the frail Tirfaie with her grey hair and wrinkled
face? Do you think so little of Nyal? Do you imagine I could ever believe that of you? Or is that how you truly feel?”
“No!” Thero groaned.
“Then prove it.”
She was so close he could smell the sweat and blood of battle on her, but also fresh air and horses, and a hint of sweet balm leaves on her breath. That, and the challenge in those blue eyes looking up at him, were a more potent mix than any Flower Lane perfume. Abandoning duty and responsibility, he took her in his arms and kissed her with a passion born of deprivation. Her lips were chapped but sweet, and met his with equal fervor as she buried one hand in his hair. Standing there, pressed together and overwhelmed by the enormity of the moment, Thero took her face between his hands and kissed her eyelids, her nose, chin, brow.
Laughing, she kissed him deeply, then pressed her face against his neck. “Are you going to make me say it first?”
Thero rested his burning cheek against the cool silk of her hair. Suddenly the words came. “I love you, Klia!” he whispered hoarsely. “I have for ages.”
Her arms tightened around him. “Thank the Light! I love you, too, you silly wizard.”
“If only I could stay with you…”
Klia sighed. “Something a soldier quickly learns is to seize the moment.”
Taking her hand, he pressed it over his pounding heart. “This belongs to you, Klia, and always will. But right now your life is in danger and I’m charged with protecting you.”
“Charged by whom?”
“Your brother. And myself.”
She took his hand in hers and pressed it to her heart, just below her gold-chased gorget. “Then I charge you to protect my heart, as well as my person. Will you do that, my love?”
Standing there, hand to heart, and heart to hand, Thero could only nod. There was no romantic flutter of pulse under his palm, only the roughness of the embroidered tabard she wore over her chain mail. All the same, a tingle passed through him. They’d seldom touched before.
Klia kissed him again and he buried both hands in her disheveled
hair, something he’d only done in dreams. He ached to simply whisk her back to the Oreska House where he could protect and make love to her, but even if he could have cast the translocation again so soon, he knew what her answer would be; she’d never leave her soldiers, not even for him.
They both heard the sound of approaching footsteps.
Klia released him and stepped back. “This war won’t last forever,” she whispered. “And when it’s over-”
Before she could finish, Myrhini came in. “We have Danos and Caem outside. Do you want them both, or one at a time?”
“Let’s start with Caem,” Klia replied, all soldier again. As soon as Myrhini was gone, however, she whispered to Thero, “We’ll continue our discussion soon, my love.” One last warm glance promised much more than discussion.
Myrhini returned with Caem and Nyal.
Klia eyed the rider. “So this is our letter carrier.”
Caem, a tall young man with a shock of blond hair, glanced at Thero in surprise, then fell to one knee and pressed his fist to his heart. “I don’t know what you mean, Commander,” he replied calmly, and Thero detected the slight accent of the mainland territories in his voice.
“I saw you slip another letter into the one Captain Danos gave you to post,” Nyal told him.
“Another letter? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A bald-faced liar indeed.
Klia nodded to Thero.
“Stand up,” the wizard ordered. The man rose to his feet and faced him at attention with a look of bland indifference. “Hold him.”
When Nyal and Myrhini grasped Caem by the arms, Thero took out his ivory dagger and set it spinning in the air inches from the man’s eyes. To his credit, Caem did not flinch.
“You will speak the truth when questioned. If you lie to me, you will die very unpleasantly,” Thero told him. “At the first lie it will blind you; at the second it will cut off your nose; at the third it will cut out your lying tongue.” He was pleased to see the color drain from the man’s face. “However,”
he went on, “if you tell the truth, Commander Klia may show you mercy. The choice is entirely yours.”
Thero seldom exercised his powers with this sort of force, but in the case of this traitor, he was happy to make an exception. “Commander, ask what you will.”
Klia fixed the rider with a dark look. “Who gave you that coded letter?”
Caem opened and closed his mouth several times, clearly warring with himself. At last, voice trembling, he said softly, “No one, Commander. I wrote it.”
“I see. You are the spy?”
“Yes, Commander.”
“Are there others?”
“None that I know of, Commander.”
“And who directed you to send reports about me?”
The rider hesitated again, eyes fixed on the blur of the spinning blade. No doubt he could feel the stir it made in the air. “Major Salana.”
Klia exchanged a look of shock with Myrhini. “Commander Myr’s aide? In Bilairy’s name, why?”
“I don’t know, Commander, and that’s the truth! I only did it for the money, and the promise of a transfer and promotion in the major’s squadron, once we get back to winter quarters in Rhiminee.”
“Why did you turn coat against me? Do you have some grievance with me?”
Caem hung his head. “No, Commander. It was just the money.”
“And just what was the price of your loyalty to me?” The words were tinged with hurt.
Caem mumbled something.
“Speak up!” Myrhini snapped.
“Five silver full sesters for every message sent,” Caem blurted out, beginning to snivel. “I’m sorry, Commander! It was stupid and disloyal and I wish I could take it all back.”
“Does Captain Danos know what you’ve been doing?”
“No, Commander, by the Flame! He’s blameless in all this.”
“All what?”
“Whatever it is that made the major want me to spy. I don’t know what it is, and that’s the truth.”
The ivory dagger bore out the declaration. True or not, it was what Caem believed.
“Is Commander Myr mixed up in all this?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know Danos’s father, Duke Reltheus?” asked Thero.
“Not really, though I’ve seen him a few times, in the city.”
“And it was not he who asked you to spy?”
“No, my lord. I only know about the major.”
“Tell me everything you know about the plot against me,” Klia ordered.
“I swear on my life, Commander, I only took the major’s money and posted the messages! Major Salana is the only one I ever talked to.”
“Who are the ‘wolves’ you wrote of?” asked Thero.
“Urghazi Turma.”
“Are they involved?”
“No! I was told to watch out for them, and you, Captain Beka, since you’d be the first to defend Commander Klia.”
“Defend me from what?” Klia asked sharply.
“I wasn’t told, Commander. Only that I should keep an eye on them, for any signs of disloyalty to the queen.”
“Bastard!” Myrhini hissed between clenched teeth.