"As my lady commands," said Oreg, grinning. He turned on his heel with military precision and shut the door as he left.
"He could still be listening," I said after the door closed behind Oreg.
"I'm older than you," she said baldly.
I waited.
"I'll never be beautiful."
"My dear lady," I said, exasperated. "I don't know if I ought to be angry that you think I am so shallow that I need an ornament at my side to be happy, or if I ought to tell you that when I first saw you wear court dress in your father's hall all those years ago, you made the other ladies fade into obscurity. Or if I should tell you of the heat in my blood every time I see you use your sword."
"At least I don't take my shirt off during sword practice," she accused. "Did you honestly think that I believed you were hot? There was snow on the ground."
I grinned at her, the butterflies in my stomach settling back to where they ought to be. Oreg, bless him, had been right about the effect of my embarrassing outburst on the raft.
"You didn't have to look," I suggested.
To my delight she snorted, sounding very much like Feather. "You're interrupting me," she said unfairly.
I obediently closed my mouth. The humor drained out of her face to be replaced by something that made my heart pound. She stepped forward and touched the side of my face. I closed my eyes briefly and turned my head into her touch until she withdrew it.
"I tried so hard not to love you," she whispered. "I didn't want to love a Shavig barbarian. Shavig's winters are too cold."
"At least it doesn't rain all the time," I said, my voice hoarse.
"Ward, I love you. If we both make it out of this alive, I will marry you—gods help you—if you still want to marry me."
Yes! I caught my cry of triumph before it passed my lips, but I grabbed her around the waist and swung her high. She laughed, gripping my shoulders. The joy in my heart was matched by her eyes.
I let her slide down my body, savoring the muscled curves of thighs and belly, the softer touch of her breasts. I stopped her when her mouth was level with mine and tasted her lips with more relief than passion—though that quickly changed.
She hadn't been kissed often. I could tell from the occasional surprised sounds she made. I was out of practice and bit her bottom lip a little too sharply once. When I would have pulled back, though, she returned the favor.
At last, nibbling on the corner of my mouth, Tisala said, "I'm too heavy for this."
I laughed. Aroused as I was, I could have held her forever, but I used the excuse to set her down before I did something we'd both regret.
"If we don't hurry, Oreg will be back up here," I said.
She touched my chest lightly and the sensation burned into my skin. "I'll go tell my father that we're going out hunting."
I knocked lightly.
Garranon opened the door. "Ward?"
"If you'll give me a minute," I said, "I have a proposition that might interest you."
"Let him in," said his wife from somewhere behind him.
Garranon stepped back and allowed me into his room, shutting the three of us in the small room—four if I counted the exhausted child sleeping in the bed.
"My husband tells me that you believe that Jakoven holds Farsonsbane and that he used it to kill our people." Allysaian sat upright on the edge of the bed and Garranon took up a stance in front of the window. The separation between them was as vast and solid as ice.
"Yes," I said.
"Do you or your wizard have an idea of how to stop him?" she asked.
"Yes, actually, that's what I came to talk to Garranon about, Lady," I said, and, as succinctly as possible, I told them what I intended to do.
When I was through, Garranon shook his head, the expression on his face showing nothing but mild regret. "I have told my lady that I will not leave again."
"He regrets that he had left me all these years and forced me to play the lord rather than the lady," said Allysaian expressionlessly.
A muscle in Garranon's face tightened.
I turned to Garranon. "Do you think that you could have prevented the deaths of your people where your wife did not?"
His eyebrows climbed up his beautiful face. "Of course not." He made a sharp dismissive gesture with his hand. "The only way to have prevented this is if I'd had the courage to kill Jakoven while he slept."
"If you had done that," his wife said hotly, "you would be dead. And Buril would have been razed to the ground as the holding of a regicide, and our people left to the bandits. This is not your fault."
"Isn't it?" he asked.
"No," she said. "No more than it is mine."
"If I had not been his lover … " he began.
"There's no profit in that," I said. "My father complained bitterly about you. He used to say that if it hadn't been for you, the king would have divided up Oranstone among his loyal followers, including him. I doubt that was completely true—but I don't know how much of his restraint was for your sake and neither do you."
"My father," said Allysaian as she stood up and touched Garranon's rigid shoulder, "told me that the king gathered the children of the rebels together to kill them and break Oranstone's heart, but he changed his mind abruptly after walking through the cells where the children were held—after seeing you."
Garranon took his wife's hand tightly and looked at me. "Jakoven won't be alone—why do you think you can take him?"
"Oreg can handle anything the wizards throw at him," I said. "With you, Tisala, and Axiel to cover the sword work, I'll take on the Bane. It was my blood that woke it, and I think I know something about how it was made. Enough, maybe, to unmake it."
Allysaian rose onto her toes and kissed Garranon on the cheek. "Go, my lord," she said. "Do what must be done and come back to me."
He bent and kissed her, not a gentle kiss good-bye, but one full of promise.
Axiel, Oreg, and Tosten were already mounted with a second horse tied to their saddles when we got to the stables. Tisala was arguing with one of the stablemen. When she saw us, she pointed at me, and the stableman followed her finger and frowned before turning abruptly and disappearing into the stable.
Tisala handed off the two horses she'd been holding to Garranon and followed the stableman. She returned with another pair of horses.
"Having trouble finding a horse up to my weight?" I asked, eyeing the small, narrow-chested, fine-boned horses she held.
Tisala grinned at me. "These are mine. They could carry you all the way back to Hurog without showing the effects," she said, patting one arched neck fondly. "But you'd die of embarrassment before you'd ridden a mile with your feet dragging in the mud. We have a couple that will do you better, I think."
The stableman came out with a young gray mare much taller and stouter than any of the other horses he'd brought out. There was something about her hindquarters that looked familiar, but her raw-boned head matched the other Oranstone horses. I took the reins and mounted.
"She's not a trained warhorse," warned Tisala. "She's just coming four and is still pretty green."
I nodded my head and sat still, letting the mare adjust to my weight. The stableman came out with my second mount and I took a good look at her before I turned a chiding expression at Tisala. The mare the stableman held was a dead ringer for my Pansy, except that she lacked his thick stallion's neck.