VirtualDesire (29 page)

He grunted. She encircled his waist and laid her head
against his chest. “What’s your best weapon, Vad?”

“The sword,” he said.

“Oh…I’m so sorry.” She squeezed him hard.

“I have my own confession to make.” He steeled himself for
what he must do. “There is not much choice between the perils; each is a
formidable challenge. But the choice is already made for me.”

“Why?”

“I have been given only five sun-risings. This is the first.
I have no choice but to go straight to the tree—through the bog, past the
hounds.” Each moment he spent here by the fire with her was just more delay.

“We can do it,” she said softly.

A brisk wind rose. He looked at the sky. It was just about
light enough to begin his journey. It was clear, almost cloudless. He could not
imagine a blue sky. Then the earth seemed to tip and spin. In his mind’s eye he
saw the strange thing Gwen called a plane in the sky, a blue sky, with a trail
of pure white behind it.

He shook the image off.

“I. Not we. I will not be taking you with me. When I am
gone, seek Ardra in the camp. She will be permitted her own servants and will
thus be able to protect you.”

“What?” Her body had gone stiff in his arms. She stared up
at him with a look so vulnerable, he felt skewered in his vitals.

“I am not staying with Ardra!” She jerked from his arms and
stood there, her mouth open. Then she threw her bread at him. “How dare you!
How dare you make love to me all night, then abandon me in the morning?”

He brushed the bread from his chest and struggled to
maintain his composure. “You cannot come with me. Do you really think the
council expects success? My death is far more likely.”

“Damn the council then. Let’s take the horses and go to
Nilrem’s mountain. We can go home to my place and live happily ever after.”
Tears ran down her cheeks.

“Happily ever after.” He said the words slowly. “You expect
too much.” He carried the purloined pack to his horse. “I am thinking only of
your safety.”

Gwen watched him prepare the horse. Only one horse.

“I don’t need you to look after me—or anyone else! And what
about returning with the treasures and asking for an arm ring for me?” Her skin
felt hot, her hands cold. There was a burning pain in her throat. “Was that a
lie?”

“No,” he said, and reached for her, but she evaded his
touch—his seductive touch. “I did not lie to you. If I am successful, I will do
as I said. And you will be there, in the camp, safe and protected to attend the
ring ceremony.”

How military he looked, how implacable, how stubborn, in his
Tolemac warrior uniform, creased from being carelessly discarded during
lovemaking.

She wanted to shriek. “You knew you were leaving me behind
last night, didn’t you? You knew it even as you made love to me. That’s why it
was so intense, wasn’t it?” Every muscle in her body ached from the night of passion.
Her heart ached, too.

“Aye. I knew it last night. I knew I could not allow harm to
come to you.”

“I knew it, too.” She pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I
knew it. You told me so in the cavern. You said if you had me, you’d leave me.”

“I am not leaving you. I am protecting you.”

She sank to her knees and hugged her arms about her ribs.
The pain in her chest was enormous. Ardra had known it, too. A man as beautiful
as Vad would never stay with one woman, she’d said.

“Rise. I must go. You must go.” He put out his hand, but she
ignored it.

“Go. Just go then. But I’m not going to stay in some camp
with Ardra! And if you come back,
she’ll
be the one undergoing a
ceremony with you—a lifemating ceremony. Damn you.”

She ran from him, reached the bushes, and in a burst of
speed flew blindly toward the cover of trees.

The low branches snatched at her hair. She ran until the
pain in her side caused her to fall to her knees in a swath of grass, trampled
green grass, trampled from their lovemaking. She knelt there and wept. He was
never coming back. He’d die, or abandon her for another, worthier woman.
Ardra
.

Gwen pounded the trampled grass with her fists. Vad had
known he was leaving, known it each time he’d kissed her, touched her. If
she’d
known…she would never have made love to him again. How much easier it was to
take rejection without the scents and aches of lovemaking still lingering on
your body.

A crackle in the undergrowth made her leap to her feet.
Would Vad come after her? Gwen strained her ears for the jingle of harness or
the sound of footsteps, then peered into the dense tree cover. When she heard
nothing, she wiped her tears and tried to compose herself. The effort was too
great. She sank to the spot where he’d made love to her and silently wept.

Of course he didn’t want her. She wasn’t from his world. She
was a liability. She brought him no illustrious ancestors, in fact, had only a
family she neglected badly.

She thought of her mother, her father, her sister, even R.
Walter. They’d never know what had become of her. And what would become of her
if she stayed here? Would she serve Ardra?
Never.

It hurt all the more because she liked Ardra. Ardra was
sweet and gentle. Ardra had saved her life. What courage it had taken to stand
up to her father. What man wouldn’t want her?

Gwen faced the reality of going home. Somehow. Now. Not
later, when Ardra was enjoying the Selaw equivalent of a honeymoon with Vad,
but right now. The mental picture of Vad lying on a bed, a real bed, with
someone else, was too much to bear. She pressed her fists to her temples to
block out the image.

“I have to get away,” she said aloud.

Then she realized that if she left, she’d never know if Vad
survived his treasure hunt. The thought of him alone in an evil bog, surrounded
by…bog things made her skin crawl. No matter what her own fate must be, she had
to know what became of him.

She worried about Narfrom. The sky was a clear, bright
lavender overhead. Maybe he was at Sotheby’s auctioning the treasure map,
claiming it was for
Merlin’s
treasures. He might also be out there
somewhere seeking the treasures himself. She still believed the ultimate
confrontation with him had been postponed, not prevented.

Another flood of tears overwhelmed her. Why hadn’t she
resisted Vad? Her pain was of her own making.

Then another thought intruded. Why had Vad needed two
horses? Had he originally intended to take her with him? Maybe he’d been
disappointed in her lovemaking, and had had second thoughts. She cringed and
dropped her head onto her knees.

Why would a man so spectacular be interested in her? Because
there was no one else available? She wiped her tears on her sleeve again.

The whicker of a horse made her swing around. There sat Vad
atop a sturdy horse, the reins to the other in his hand. “What do you want?”
She scrambled to her feet and jammed her hands on her hips.

“I want to know why you further delay me by running away.”

“Delay you? Just go. Leave me alone. I’m not completely
stupid. I can find my way to your precious Ardra.”

He threw a leg over the front of the saddle and slid to the
ground. “My precious Ardra?”

Gwen wiped her nose with the back of her hand, conscious of
how she must look, her cheeks grimy with tears, her hair a mess from rolling on
the ground half the night.

Slowly he walked nearer until he towered over her. “You
think because I inhabit this form, I have not the integrity to remain true to
one woman—you.”

“You were leaving me behind.”

For a moment words escaped him. “For your safety,” he finally
managed. How easily he had found her. He, too, would have come to this place to
lick his wounds, the place where they had joined themselves so ardently. They
were more alike than he cared to admit.

“Your tears,” he said, “are not about waiting in the camp
for me to return. They are not tears of fear that I may be devoured by some
menace on my way to the treasures, are they?” Her silence was answer enough for
him. “Do you think I declared myself and meant none of it?” he nearly shouted.

Her gaze slid from his. “Vad, I—”

He threw up a hand to silence her. The evasion of her eyes
said so much. “You think a man who is beset by the attentions of women is
easily drawn in by them. That is what you think, is it not? You think I am
incapable of constancy! You think a woman perhaps more beautiful than you, or
more… By the sword. I am sick of it. I was leaving you behind because I could
not bear to see you hurt.”

“Vad. You have to understand. Every man I’ve ever loved has
left me. I—”

“Every man? Your Bob? You blame him for dying? Then well you
should blame me, too, when I am rotting in the evil bog. Believe that I am
doing so to make your life miserable.”

He boosted her into the saddle, trying not to think about
how small and delicate her bones felt in his hands. He could not remain here
one moment longer.

“You make me sound petty. I’m not petty.” She gripped the
reins in a tight fist.

Better her anger than her tears. “You are petty. You are
doubting. You have no trust. And yet I must take you on this treasure hunt. I
have lost far too much time to return you to my ‘precious Ardra’. Now, instead
of concentrating on the perils, on finding the treasures, I must spend every
moment worrying about your safety.” He handed her the jeweled dagger. “You will
need a weapon.”

“I’m sorry.” Tears ran freely down her cheeks.

Sorrow would not sway him. “Your apology means nothing.” A
small hiccup joined her tears. The little sound ate at his composure. More
followed. By the time he settled himself in the saddle, he had not the heart to
continue chastising her. “Perhaps you were just not thinking clearly,” he
finished.

“I promise I won’t be a burden. I can help you. I just know
it.”

Her simple words scattered what remained of his ire. What
worthier woman could he ask for than one willing to battle perils at his side?
Perhaps one more predictable. “You will follow my orders. You will do only what
I tell you, when I tell you. Is that understood? And when we return, we will
deal with your inability to trust me, to believe in my love for you.”

They rode in silence for about an hour, by Gwen’s reckoning,
along a path that edged the river. She hated staring at his broad back. It
seemed stiff with displeasure—because of her. Several ravens sat in the top of
a tree and tracked their progress. They reminded her of the fortress, and that
reminded her that Vad might soon be Ardra’s husband.

“Vad. What if the council insists you lifemate with Ardra?
How can you say no?”

He did not even look over his shoulder. “Whatever I decide
to do about Ardra will have nothing to do with my love for you.”

“Oh?” What the heck did that mean? “You’ll lifemate with
Ardra, and keep me on the side? Is that what you’re saying? Well, no way.”

He hauled on his reins, holding his mount in place until she
caught up to him. A muscle twitched in his jaw. Even his hair looked angry. “By
‘keep you on the side’,” he snapped, “do you mean as a concubine?”

“Yes.”

“How could you think so little of me?”

The fact that her doubts had the power to hurt him amazed
her. She’d never been on the giving end of pain. It made her feel very small
and very contrite.

“Can I start over?” She felt the tears gathering again, but
fought them this time. They were a weakness he probably deplored. Women about
to cross an evil bog should not give any outward sign of frailty. “I just think
when you get back—and you will get back, I know it—the council will offer you
Ardra, and you’ll have to take her.”

“Ardra is not some package to hand around. The council may
offer her to me, or may not. How I will answer I do not know. Perhaps I will
say aye to a mating with her. Perhaps not.”

She let her horse drop back behind his. On second thought,
maybe weeping was a good thing.

They allowed the horses to pick their way daintily through
the outskirts of the bog. Vad took her reins and led her horse as the ground
began to grow more uncertain underfoot. The trees thinned and took on a ravaged
look. He spoke over his shoulder. “Before we are deep in the bog, I have but
one request of you.”

“What is it?” Her horse stumbled a bit in the softening
ground.

“I know the value of a family. When we complete this
journey, should you return to your place, make peace with your parents, your
sister. They must grieve for your loss.”

Return to her place. Could she ever leave him? Yes…if the
council gave him to Ardra. She had too much respect for the woman to horn in on
her happiness.

Maybe the wandering wiseman, Nilrem, could help her go home.
But wait, she had watched Narfrom disappear. He had done it right there in the
fortress, not on some mountain under the direction of a wiseman.

Power and design
, Narfrom had said.

So theoretically,
she
could leave at any time. No,
she couldn’t. She couldn’t envision life without Vad. It was not possible to
spend the rest of her days looking at him glowering down on her from a poster,
playing his game, turning him off and wishing for what could not be.

She hadn’t wanted another man in her life, hadn’t wanted to
face another heartbreak. This time it hurt as much as she remembered—times ten.
How could she have fallen in love with a man who was too handsome for words and
too kind for his own good?

But no matter how painful her love for him, no matter how
alien and frightening his world, she now knew the only way she’d leave him was
if he sent her away.

Gwen strove to be nonchalant. “Maybe one day I’ll make peace
with my parents. You’d really like my mother. And she’d love…your eels. This
experience certainly makes holding a grudge against my sister seem—”

“Petty. Is Rwalter a good match for your sister?”

“Perfect,” she said, and for the first time she meant it.
“They have everything in common. My sister was my best friend until…she met R.
Walter. I miss her friendship.”

Vad nodded and held up a hand. He listened a moment, then
signaled her forward. “I understand. It must be similar to what I feel at the
loss of Kered’s leadership.” He talked of the accusations leveled against
himself and Kered.

Gwen could hear the continued pain in his voice at how his
reputation had not been enough to stand against Samoht’s accusations. “This
Samoht must have a real grudge against you,” she said.

Vad shrugged. “Samoht’s grudge is more with Kered, but as
his lieutenant, I must stand in his place.”

“You took it with admirable grace,” she said. “I wanted to
leap over that round table and smack his arrogant face.”

Vad turned in his saddle and grinned. “You are a fierce
little warrior woman.”

Black water, with an oily scum, seemed to surround them. She
wrinkled her nose. “Boy, this place stinks.”

Remnants of ancient trees rose like black spikes from the
water. The dry or firm places were growing smaller. Afraid of becoming lost, or
being unable to find her way back, Gwen used the jeweled dagger to cut slashes
on the bare tree trunks whenever she could manage it without falling out of the
saddle.

The sky grew overcast; the sun retreated. “We’ll get out of
here before it gets dark, won’t we?”

Vad shook his head. The idea of this place in the dark was
more than intimidating. At least in the fortress the ground was solid underfoot.

Vad pulled up his horse. She watched him scrape a fungus
growth from a tree trunk. “Dinner,” he said, and placed it in the worn leather
pack. He slowly grew more talkative, losing some of his stiffness with her.

The murky ground near her burped a bubble of gas. She
grabbed her nose and wheeled her horse back.

“Here.” He offered her a strip of cloth that had been
wrapped about the bread. She held the cloth to her nose.

“You asked me before what my best weapon was, and I answered
my sword. Then I started to think, perhaps it is not a sword that will triumph
here. Perhaps I could—”

“Feed the hounds something noxious, like the stuff for the
mourning wine? Did you bring my basket?”

“No.”

“Oh, too bad. It had that potion you cooked up for the
maiden rescue. And apples.”

He dug about in his saddle pack and held something up.
“Would you like one now?”

She accepted the apple and tucked it into her tunic. “Does
this mean the potion’s somewhere in your pack, too?” He nodded. “Then maybe
it’s not such a bad thing that we couldn’t use it at the fortress.”

“Aye. This time I will invite eight to dinner—hounds, that
is.”

Gwen smiled behind her cloth. His next few words took away
all her humor.

“From this point, we must beware of outcasts and water
creatures.”

“Outcasts? Water creatures? Sure. No trouble. I’ll just keep
my eyes peeled.”

“I know you are not going to peel your eyes, but especially
you must look for Wartmen. They often venture into the bog, perhaps to hunt the
ravens. A raven pie is very satisfying.”

It took most of the day to go only a few leagues. The horses
wouldn’t go faster than a walk, and Vad stopped repeatedly to scrape fungi into
his pack. Gwen began to pride herself on spotting the ugly growths before he
did. As they went deeper into the bog, new growth appeared, long, cobwebby
strands that crossed the paths and clung to their hair and horses, draping
itself from branch to branch.

She continued making her marks.

Vad raised his hand. As she drew to his side, every muscle
of her back and legs aching from the tense ride, she saw what he did: three
men. They were swathed in fur cloaks like the one Vad had left in Ocean City.
Dirty beards covered the lower halves of their faces. One stepped ahead of the
others. There were no weapons in view beyond the usual knives.