Grapes, black skinned and dusty, ripened in the sun, still with the bloom upon the flesh.
A ripple of triumph uncurled in his chest when he replaced her feet inside the slippers and resumed the submissive position. Surely that would be enough? She’d be missed if she stayed here too long.
“Hmm. You are a silver-tongued beast, my dear Wolf.” He felt her hands running through his short hair, petting him like a dog. “But I’m still curious why you thought I was Lila, and why you would be meeting her.” Her fingers tightened, nails scraping his scalp as she pulled his hair, hard. He froze. A solid ball of fear bounced around his stomach, and he concentrated on pushing it down. He almost missed her next words.
“So let’s pay the Mistress Lila a visit. I, for one, should like to know what she plans to do with my slave.”
Lila
A heavy bang at the door jolted me awake, and I scrambled to my feet automatically. Where was Marc?
Not back yet.
My stomach clenched. I swallowed hard, and I ran a nervous hand across my hair. Had they caught him breaking curfew? I licked my lips as I strode to the door; the confident Lila had to appear.
I drew back the bolt and pulled open the door to see one of the massive Saxon guards. Before I could speak, he took a step to the side, one hand securely on his sword. Beside him stood Mistress Rowena. Her lips curled up in an approximation of a smile, but her eyes were like chips of ice.
“Mistress Lila.” Polite, but with a sneering note. “Your name is unusual in these parts. Does it mean anything?”
I blinked, completely thrown by the random question. Every grain of common sense warned me to tread carefully, and I produced a cool smile of my own.
“It’s just a name. I’m not aware of any meaning associated with it.”
“Really.”
What was I supposed to say? And what had happened to Marc? I was at a loss for how to reply. Rowena nodded to someone in the corridor, and a slave was tossed on the floor in front of me. He hit the ground with a soft grunt, landing on his side, facing me. I couldn’t hold back a gasp of horror, and I clapped a hand over my mouth before any words could tumble out.
Jared. My God, Jared, what have they done to you?
Unbearably thin, his naked torso bore scars and scrapes, with bruises and welts jostling side by side. The hideous slave collar. I couldn’t drag my eyes away. A bright smear of fresh blood oozed along the edge of the metal ring, and there were earlier sores where the rough iron must have chafed. His eyes regarded me steadily, the green and the blue so painfully familiar, even while the short, rough beard and cropped hair changed the appearance of his face. As if from a long distance, I heard Rowena speaking to me and I dragged my attention back to her.
She poked him in the back of the neck with her toe. “Have you seen this slave before? He claims to know you.”
Rowena couldn’t see his face, couldn’t see his mouth silently forming the word,
no
.
I wanted to drop to my knees and cradle his head in my lap, soothing his pain. Instead I dug deep and managed to sound puzzled. “Me? How could that be?”
Cocking her head to one side, Rowena regarded me with a quizzical frown. “And you are quite sure about that?”
“I’ve never seen him before.” I tried to sound puzzled.
Her brows dipped into a frown, but I kept my gaze steady. I couldn’t allow her to intimidate me. She nodded to the guard. “Cellar,” she snapped, and then as the guard hauled Jared to his feet by yanking on the collar, she smiled. Years of hiding my emotions meant that I didn’t wince at his indrawn breath and hiss of pain, but it was hard. I dug my fingernails into my palm as I struggled to remain impassive.
Rowena’s voice was silky. “I would speak with your husband while I am here.”
Shit
. “He went down to the kitchens just a few minutes ago. I will tell him you wish to see him, but now, my lady, I wish to return to my bed.”
Minutes later, I bolted the door again and sank against the wood, one fist stuffed into my mouth.
Dear God
. Such an evil bitch. My mind bounced from one fear to another: what they would do to Jared? If they caught Marc…if the rescue plan failed?
Marc returned an hour later, tapping quietly on the door in the signal we’d established. Two swift knocks. Pause. One more. Pause. Then another two. I threw back the bolt and practically fell upon him, needing the comfort of another person. Needing his touch. He gave a short, pleased laugh and pulled me firmly into his arms, while sliding the bolt back into place.
“It’s okay. They didn’t see me.” He draped one arm around my waist, the other across my shoulders. I felt his fingers stroking my neck and I buried my face against his throat. The intimate embrace felt strangely comfortable and it was a long moment before I realized Marc seemed equally happy with this. He dropped a soft kiss on my hair. “Lila, we need to talk.”
I snapped back to attention and wriggled free. “He was here.” My voice came out as a whisper. “Rowena brought Jared here. She wanted to know if I knew him.”
Marc’s eyes widened. He grabbed my hand and led me to sit on the bed with him. “Tell me everything.” I recounted the tale, and he listened carefully, prompting me when I hesitated. He held my hand as I spoke, his thumb brushing gently across my fingers.
“The way she said
cellar
,” I couldn’t hold back a shudder. “It sounded like some kind of punishment. How soon can we leave and get him out of here?”
His hand stilled on mine. “That’s where we may have a problem. I can’t be sure the signal went through. The communicator failed.”
“So that means…”
“It means we wait for the scheduled pickup in two weeks’ time.” He hesitated, and my heart plummeted to my feet. “It means we’re on our own.”
Jared
Jared had been punished in the cellar often enough to dread the prospect, but right now he didn’t care. Inside, he wanted to leap up and punch the air in delight. He’d not made a mistake. Lila was there, which meant the
ghardians
would soon be there too.
He’d be free again
. He clutched the idea tight to his chest. It helped him to ignore the jabs from the guard’s sword and to override the gnawing hunger in his stomach. He only had to endure this for a matter of days.
He didn’t even flinch when the guard shoved him hard in the back, forcing him to his knees on the hard earth floor. Jared kept his face blank when the dirty chain was attached to his collar and the link hammered into place. The vibrations of the blows juddered through him, rattling his teeth and scraping the bare flesh on his neck, but he knelt quietly. Past experience told him that struggling made it worse.
The door slammed into place, and Jared blinked, sucking in a deep breath and forcing himself to relax. The darkness was absolute. Even when his eyes adjusted, there would be no little chinks of light to creep in. He tested the length of the chain with his hands, walking his fingers up from his collar to the wall: long enough to stand, if he hunched over. Last time, he’d been forced to kneel for the duration of his punishment.
The cellar smelled of rotten vegetables and fear, sweat, and other bodily functions overlaid with the coppery tang of blood. The odor crept into his nostrils. How many slaves had been beaten and whipped in the cellar? How many had died here? He shivered and breathed slowly through his mouth in an effort to minimise the stink.
Think of Lila.
He settled into the corner, tucked up his knees, and rested his chin on his hands. Lila hadn’t looked well. Her skin had been too pale, and she’d had shadows under her eyes as though she hadn’t slept in days. He’d swear she was thinner, too. His mind darted back to those precious seconds when he’d lain at her feet, absorbing her beauty and drawing strength, and hope, from her presence. Rowena had asked about her husband. A
ghardian
perhaps? Lila wouldn’t have made a commitment. It would just be part of her cover story here.
In his society, couples were usually only paired up after an application had been accepted to raise a family group. An appropriate partner would be selected by the Council, and the two parties involved would undertake a formal commitment to each other for the duration of the child-raising period. Intimacy was unheard of, and sexual relationships were rare. Most couples managed conception through far more reliable insemination processes with children’s attributes selected by the council. Jared had heard tales of the deviants living in the remote colonies, and how they formed relationships in the old fashioned way.
The way they did it in this age.
He’d been tempted.
What he felt for Lila could not be defined and constrained by the life he was expected to live. True, the rules were starting to relax a fraction and some ranks were allowed to propose their own choice of partner, still to be approved by the Council, of course. But even if he found some way to propose for Lila, he would never be selected as her partner. His odd-colored eyes made him poor genetic material. His only chance for any kind of life with her would be if they left society for a colony. Or if they ran away to another time.
If he’d been able to persuade her, they could have joined up with the sprawling communities led by Ambrosius in the mountains. They’d have lived in a remote village, raised a family and led a simple but happy life together. He could see it in his head. Two, three, or even four little children with bright blue eyes and gleaming yellow hair. Chickens running wild, hunting dogs, and ponies gathered around the homestead. He’d be able to show Lila just how much he loved her, and living so far from habitation, it would have been almost impossible for the
ghardians
to find them.
Karma was a bitch sometimes. He’d wanted them to run away and evade the
ghardians.
Now he relied on them for rescue.
Lila
Marc’s words hung in the air.
On our own. No backup. No squadron of elite ghardians coming to our rescue.
My tongue felt wooden when I tried to speak. “So what are we going to do?”
The gentle thumb-brushing resumed. Soothing. “My first thought was for us to leave here in a few days and wait out the period somewhere local then head for the jump site. We come back to get Jared with a full squadron.”
I nodded as he spoke. “Your first thought? Have you another idea now?”
He made a little face. “I’ll see if I can fix the communicator and then try to send another message tomorrow night. It may have gone through. I just don’t know. There was no return signal and I couldn’t be sure I established contact, so we have to assume I didn’t.” He paused a moment, as though collecting his thoughts. “We need to understand why Rowena thinks you’re connected to Jared, and if she perceives you as a threat. If not, we follow my plan.”
“And if I am a threat?” It came out as a whisper, and Marc’s hand tightened around my own.
“Then we leave as soon as possible. Bribe whomever we need to for horses and get the hell out of here.”
“Without Jared?”
“We don’t have many options, Lila. Snatching him and making a run for it would be tantamount to suicide.”
I took a deep breath and ran a trembling hand across my hair. I couldn’t shake the mental image of Rowena’s cruel smile when she’d dispatched Jared to the cellar.
“I need to ask you something.” Marc’s tone was quiet, and my stomach churned. I lifted my head and met his gaze, seeing his serious expression, a trace of anxiety in his dark eyes. The corners of his mouth quirked up a fraction, but he still looked worried. “I wondered about your feelings for Jared.”
“My
feelings
?”
Gods
, what could I say? My heart raced, and I tried to find the right words. Nothing came out, and the silence grew, hopeless, but explaining so much without the need for words.
“I thought so.” Marc’s voice was soft “And I guess it will be hard for you to see him in the penal colony?”
I found my voice. “Would he still be sentenced? He’s a slave here, for God’s sake.”
“He would still have to serve time. It may be reduced by a couple of years, but you know they like to make examples of runaways. It’s a deterrent, and a very effective one.”
Tears pressed at the back of my eyes. I couldn’t leave Jared here, but what kind of future awaited him at home? My thirst for revenge had muted to a dull ache the minute I’d realized his appalling situation.
“There may be another way. You know that
ghardians
are allowed to propose their own partners. And I would like to propose for you, Lila.” I stared at Marc, speechless, as he slowly raised my hand to his mouth and pressed a warm kiss onto my knuckles. “If we’re in a committed relationship, we could petition for Jared’s sentence to be reduced. It would be a stronger argument.”
His eyes searched my face and now I saw how anxious he was. Tight lines bracketed his mouth, his eyes darkened and his breathing became erratic. I licked my lips, my mind running in circles as I tried to process his suggestion. A commitment? To Marc?
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered. “I never imagined you…me…together.”
“You don’t have to say anything now. Just promise me you’ll think about it.” He kissed my hand again. “You know how much I respect you. We’d make a good pairing. And in time,” he broke off and swallowed hard, and then reached out to take my other hand. “In time, we may want to explore a more intimate relationship.” His words hung in the air.
“You’re a
ghardian
. You know better than most that…well…people don’t do that…” My panicked words faded away when Marc lifted my hands to his lips again. I remembered his soft kiss against my hair and the way he’d held me in the cart. He cared for me, more than I’d guessed. More than anyone would have guessed.
“Just because that’s the norm, doesn’t mean it’s right. Please, Lila, just think about it.” I nodded, unable to drag my eyes away. He sucked in a quick breath. “You’d have a better chance of visiting him, too.” A crooked smile emerged. “Being committed to a
ghardian
would give you a lot of advantages in society.”