Keir continued to stroke my hair. His voice was still soft when he spoke. “You weren’t afraid that night because you were untouched. You thought I was going to rape you.”
I looked up, to see hard eyes that held despair as well. I brought my hand to his cheek and left it there as I held his gaze. “I thought you were going to make use of what belonged to you, yes. But you took nothing that was not freely given.” His eyes never left mine. “So my fear became that you would take my heart and give me nothing in exchange.” I ran my thumb over his lips. “Or worse yet, that you would take my heart and then discard me, like a worn out boot.” His arm tightened around me for a moment. “When I heard Jo-den’s words, I knew that you had not been taking. That you had been giving. Giving me time. Giving me your heart.”
He admired me, stroking my cheek. “You have such courage.”
I blushed and lowered my gaze. Keir lifted my chin with his ringers. “And why does that embarrass you so?”
I turned my head. Keir stroked his fingers over my cheek and down under my ear, caressing my neck. “I love that blush. My wildcat, so very strong and yet so very vulnerable.” He kissed my neck, then moved to my collarbone, and started taking little tastes. “When I started the talks, I took your dear brother aside privately and explained everything to him. I wanted him to know that you would be courted with honor and desire.” I shivered at the way he said that word. He stopped and looked into my eyes. “Lara, I assumed that bastard had told you…” His voice choked. I soothed him with soft touches and kisses. “I was waiting for you to indicate that you were willing. I didn’t understand—” He cut himself off, then spoke quietly. “You have my heart, Lara.” His voice in my ear filled me with a wondrous sense of the lightness of this man. He placed his forehead against mine.
“My Warlord,” I whispered. He took my lips then, kissing me deeply.
We broke apart, and he chuckled. “We best get clean, before we find ourselves stuck to the furs.” He got up, and attended to details, padding naked like a large cat around the tent. While I admired him, I wasn’t comfortable that way. I pulled the furs up and tucked them under my arms to conceal myself. He returned, bringing me a cloth, and a tray with a sweating pitcher and some pears. “A gift from Marcus.” We drank the cold spring water and fed each other slices of pear, content in the silence between us.
Some juice ran down my chin and onto my neck and chest. I wrinkled my nose and smiled at Keir. “I’m going to need a bath in the morning.”
Keir darted in, and licked the juice trail with his tongue. I looked at him, startled. He looked back, his eyes dancing. Carefully removing the tray, he placed it on the floor by the bed. Then he pounced, rolling me over onto my back and covering me with his length.
I laughed. “Keir, I am all sticky.”
He growled, eyes gleaming in the light. “I am going to get you stickier.”
“It’s enough to cry challenge on him.” Simus growled.
My Warlord had invited Simus and Joden to eat the evening meal with us. Marcus muttered as he delivered the various dishes to the table, but there was a twinkle in his eye that caused me to flush whenever he looked at me.
“No, it’s not.” Keir helped himself to some of the spicy meat.
“He meant no peace!” Simus thumped his fist on the table, and the dishes rattled. “Telling his people that she is to be a ‘thing’.”
“Daughters of Xy are born to be given in alliance marriages, Simus.” I saved one of the bowls from falling. “I came willingly, to forge a peace.”
‘To bind partners together for gain? Who is the barbarian, Warprize?“ Joden looked at me intently.
“He lies to her, and to his people, and sends men to kill her.” Simus clenched his mug. “Challenge and gut him.” He was deadly serious.
“We have no proof—” I started, but Keir leapt in.
“He gave you poison.”
“In the same way you grant mercy to your wounded.”
“No,” Keir shook his head. “He knew the truth, Lara. It’s not the same.”
“What of Iften, then?” I helped myself to the bread. “That lance was full-tipped.”
“Eh?” From the looks on their faces, it was clear that Keir had not told them about the marketplace. Keir told them now, in short crisp words, and they both grew quiet, thinking of the implications. Simus sighed heavily. “Well, that changes some well laid plans.”
“What plans?” I asked.
“From the beginning, we’d hoped for conquest. The plan was to secure the city and then split the army, with Keir remaining here. I’d return to the Plains, and bring more men in the spring.” Simus picked up his mug. “Now, Keir must return to the Heart of the Plains.”
“Leaving Simus with no one to watch his back.” Keir scowled. “I’ll not leave him here with Iften.”
“I could stay.” Joden’s voice was soft.
Simus shook his head violently. Keir raised an eyebrow. “What of your plans to advance to Singer during the snows? Stay here, and it will be another year before you can—”
“He’s going.” Simus was firm. “I’ll not see that dream delayed, Joden.”
Joden looked down. “The Elders may not—”
“You’ve been punished.” Simus’s dark eyes twinkled as he changed the subject. “Speaking of that, have you started to work on the song?”
Joden nodded.
“Tell us the chorus at least, Joden.” Simus gestured with a hand, almost spilling my kavage. “Are we to wait until you perform it to hear it?”
“No.” Joden chewed on a chicken leg. “Yes.”
“No fair.” Simus turned to Keir. “You’re the Warlord. Order him to give us a hint.”
Keir snorted. “Order a singer?”
Simus leaned toward me, a wicked gleam in those dark eyes. “You’re the Warprize. You could…” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“If she does,” Joden spoke calmly, “the verses will talk about a certain wounded warrior who got fat and lazy as he healed.”
Simus looked down at his third plate-full. “I need food to mend. Isn’t that right, little healer?”
I looked at him, keeping my face serious. “Simus, the entire army could heal on what you eat.”
Keir and Joden roared. Simus tried not to laugh as he objected to my statement.
“What’s the ruckus?” Marcus entered with more kavage. Keir and Joden explained over Simus’s protests of innocence. “Ah, there’s truth in what the Warprize says.” Marcus poured for all of us. “Your gut will soon over hang your belt.”
“Lara.” I looked Marcus straight in the eye. “My name is Lara.”
Keir, Simus and Joden all busied themselves with their food. Marcus ignored me.
“Marcus,” I sat up very straight, determined to win this point. “I wish to be called ‘Lara’.”
His one eye flashed at me; Marcus was not a happy man. He put the pot of kavage on the table, bowed and turned to go.
“Marcus, stop.” He stopped where he was, but didn’t turn to face me. “Marcus, I order—”
Joden choked on his kavage. Simus sucked in a breath between his teeth, and Keir had his hand over his eyes. Apparently, I was about to do something very, very foolish.
Marcus turned on his heel, his one eyebrow arched. “Yes?”
Utter silence from the three men at the table.
“Marcus, it would mean a lot to me if you would call me ‘Lara’ occasionally.”
“I’ll think on it.” Marcus turned again and left.
Simus sighed. “You’re a brave one, little healer.”
“He wouldn’t hurt me.” I protested.
“Gruel. Cold gruel and watery kavage for a month.” Keir shuddered. “I’ve learned the hard way not to cross Marcus.”
“Aye to that,” Joden said and Simus agreed.
It was late when Simus and Joden left. I stripped and got under the furs, and waited for Keir to return from checking the watch. The braziers gave off their heat and a familiar glow lit the tent.