people still considered him their Rul and, as such, he held the
woman’s fate in his hands. He found the weight a difficult one.
His thoughts centered on the slim young woman now curled
by the fire. In exile for the past eight annum, Kyne remembered
little of DiSanti’s only daughter. As a young man at court Kyne
had paid scant attention to the child. But he had thought her
older than Aubin’s eight and ten annum. This woman was barely
more than a girl. Could he sentence a mere child to death?
He remembered the soft curves of her young body. No,
she was not quite a child.
And if she carried Aubin’s babe? What then?
Though he stared into the darkness, he could still see her
dirt-smudged face, a blood-crusted scrape on one cheek marring
her smooth, porcelain complexion. Delicate brows arched over
eyes as blue as the towering peaks of Dramon’s Azul Mountains,
while blue-black hair fell in a tangled mass to her waist.
He scrubbed his palm against his thigh as if by doing so he
could erase the feeling of her cool, silken skin from his memory.
What had happened when he touched her? When his fingers
closed around her throat, he had sensed her hidden fear and
felt the pain of her scrapes and bruises as if they were his own.
The sensation left him shaken. Though he was always conscious
of the feelings of others, this went beyond anything he’d ever
experienced.
Despite his hatred of her and her father, the woman’s show
of courage struck a chord within Kyne. She faced him without
cowering, demanding answers, refusing to acknowledge her
guilt. Her claims of innocence sounded sincere, and her eyes
meet his in censure. Was she perhaps the unknowing dupe of
her evil father?
Kyne shook his head. Aubin, with his dying words,
condemned DiSanti’s daughter. The parchment she wrote was
solid evidence of her responsibility. In it she asked Aubin to
meet her at the pub where he had been attacked and killed by
DiSanti’s men. This proof of her treachery hardened Kyne to
her pleas of innocence. He would do what he must to avenge
his brother and bring about DiSanti’s fall.
***
The next morning, Sianna stretched beneath the heavy fur
rug. Despite Katya’s harsh words the night before, she had
provided Sianna with warm, dry clothing and bedding, as well
as a hearty meal. Though Kyne’s sister served all with a sullen
attitude, Sianna didn’t argue. She needed her strength. Self-
preservation decreed she should run. She looked around the
mountain camp. But where to?
Above, the sky lightened, while a mist hung over the ground.
She threw back the covering and shivered in the moist morning
air. Around her the sounds of camp breaking filled nature’s
silence. The murmur of sleep husky voices, the creak of saddle
leather, the rumbling calls of the quinar being readied for the
trip.
Katya’s strident voice shattered the peace. “I’ll not take
her with me. Deju is worn from hard riding these last few days.”
“You can ride with one of the men and mount the woman
alone on Deju,” came Kyne’s calm reply.
“Are you mad? What if she tries to run? Deju is the fastest
of quinar. How will we catch her? Besides who knows if she
can ride. Mount her with Graham.”
“Graham’s quinar carries more weight with Graham alone
and can no longer bear the extra. The other men’s hatred of
DiSanti makes them unreliable. Je’al’s actions prove that.”
“Then let her walk. Or take her with you.”
“Katya’s right,” Graham said. “Unless you wish to trade
quinar with me, the woman must ride with you.”
Sianna watched Kyne run his hand around the back of his
neck as if attempting to ease the tension there. His gaze met
Sianna’s, and his lips curled into a humorless smile. “Very well,
she goes with me. Get ready. We leave within the half hour.”
Graham walked away.
“And Katya,” Kyne stopped his sister as she made to follow.
“Hakan can take Deju any day.”
“Only in your dreams, big brother, only in your dreams.”
Katya’s laughter caused more than one head to turn in her
direction.
Sianna smiled in response to the lighthearted, carefree sound,
the sound a young woman should make.
“In your nightmares, little sister.” Kyne turned toward
Sianna, and the humor died out of his eyes. “Come.”
For a moment she hesitated, then followed. What choice
did she have?
After saddling his quinar, Kyne mounted and reached down.
Grabbing her hand, he pulled Sianna up behind him.
Thankful for the trousers Katya had provided, she sat stiffly
atop the massive beast. Hakan’s broad back was not suited for
the silken nightwear she’d been wearing. Too much of her legs
were revealed. She shuddered, remembering the heated looks
of lust and hate the other men had cast her.
“Hold tight to me. I have no desire to pick you up off the
ground,” Kyne said.
Fearing a sudden onslaught of emotions, she cautiously
wrapped her arms around his lean waist and sucked in her
breath. She waited for a flood of emotion at the contact, but
sensed nothing more than Kyne’s tension. What blocked her
empathic talent with this man? Relieved, she settled against
him, taking an odd sort of comfort from the feel of his solid
strength against her chest.
This man held her life in his hands, but she didn’t fear him.
Instinct told her justice was strongly ingrained in him. Once he
realized her innocence, he wouldn’t harm her or see her hurt.
But what of Laila? Where had she disappeared to? Could
Kyne and the others be made to see that she too was innocent
of any crime? Until Sianna could guarantee her sister’s safety,
she couldn’t reveal herself.
They travelled through the morning, deep into the craggy
mountain range. Even if the opportunity presented itself, she no
longer knew which way to flee. She couldn’t prevent a small
shudder at the thought of being lost and alone in this wilderness
of rocks and trees.
***
When he reached down for the woman, Kyne had braced
himself, but unlike when he touched her before, this time he
sensed nothing. Her fingers felt cool and fragile in his grip.
The heat of her at his back distracted him from any other
thoughts. Through his heavy cape he felt her every movement—
the shift of her hips as she eased the strain of riding, the turn of
her head, the press of her soft breasts, the brush of her slippered
feet against his calves and the feel of her small hands on his
waist. Her sweet, feminine scent drifted under his nose. His
body reacted, tightening in spite of his mind’s objections. Disgust
that he should desire this woman pooled on his tongue.
She shivered.
“Are you cold?” How could she be? Self-loathing made
him hot despite
the crisp mountain air.
“No. But I am hungry. You did not allow me time for first
meal. Is starvation to be the punishment for my alleged crimes?”
As if in emphasis, her stomach rumbled.
Kyne restrained his smile at her tart words. “Reach into
my pack, and you’ll find a bag of dried fruit and a skin of watered
wine. Calm yourself. Until you are judged, you’ll not be
mistreated.”
She squirmed behind him as she hunted through his pack.
Her shoulder bumped his hip and her voice was muffled as she
answered. “Is that supposed to reassure me? Already I’ve been
abducted, dragged from the threshold of my bed chamber in
my nightwear, carted through the rain, terrorized and bruised,
accused of foul deeds and threatened with horrible retribution.
But I’m not supposed to worry because I’m safe until you see
fit to be my judge and pronounce sentence on me?” She
straightened and spoke her last words directly into his ear.
“Forgive me if I prefer to remain agitated.”
The rush of warm air across his chilled skin felt like the
slide of hot oil over ice. Now Kyne shivered. “You are rash to
chide me so when I hold your life in my hands. Do you not fear
angering me?”
He felt her shrug. “Fear pales after a time. If you will kill
me, do so. But please do not talk me to death.”
Though she spoke boldly, Kyne felt the tremor of her fingers
against his waist. He squashed the smile teasing his lips.
“Perhaps you would do well to consider taking a softer tone.
My judgement might not be so harsh if I found you
more...biddable.” Kyne wondered from what part of him these
words sprang. Why did he taunt her with the possibility of
salvation? Hold out the hope that if she played the helpless
female, he might temper his wrath? Whatever way this woman
acted or did not act could not influence his decision. He opened
his mouth to take back his dishonorable bargain.
“Biddable?” She seemed to test the word, then laughed
softly, her warm breath teasing the hair at his temple. “I usually
am. But I often speak my mind. Though your warrior sister
might have terrorized me to silence for a short while, I’m afraid
your reprieve is at an end.”
Didn’t she understand just what he demanded in return
for his favor? This aspect of her personality puzzled him. How
could a skilled wanton, a woman well-versed in the ways of
luring young men to their doom, miss his obvious offer?
Did she play the innocent to disarm him as she must have
disarmed Aubin? If so, she’d met her match. Years ago, when
he was just eight and ten, before DiSanti’s betrayal and his
parents’ deaths, he had spent time at court. There he learned
well not to believe the honeyed lies of beautiful women.
“Don’t feign innocence with me. I’m not so easily led as
Aubin.”
“Is that so?” She sighed and he felt her body sag. “Tell me
of Aubin.”
“You still claim you didn’t know him? You lie too easily.”
“I’ll not waste my breath, but humor me and tell me of your
brother.”
Perhaps by speaking of Aubin he could shake her claim of
innocence. Or maybe he just needed to remember him out loud.
Images of his younger brother floated before Kyne. “Aubin
and Katya were twins. Though alike in appearance, their
temperaments were as different as the moons. Katya is bold
and reckless, doing before thinking. Aubin was always the
cautious, thoughtful one, a dreamer, a poet, a gentle soul who
saw the best in everyone. They were inseparable...until you.”
His words died away.
“What happened?” she prompted.
“Like bees to a honey pot, women fluttered around Aubin.
He loved them all, yet loved none of them. Men respected him.
When I learned he saw you, DiSanti’s daughter, we argued and
parted in anger. Next I saw him, Aubin lay dying.” Grief and
guilt closed Kyne’s throat.
Too well he remembered the harsh words he had thrown
at his younger brother. Words like sharp stones, meant to wound,
they’d found their mark—in Kyne’s own heart. If he had spoken
with more restraint would Aubin have listened? Would he yet
be alive? While DiSanti may have wielded the weapon, Kyne
knew he himself had put Aubin in harm’s way.
She laid her hand on his arm. “You blame yourself? Do
not. You sought only to protect one you loved.”
He jerked away, suspicious of and unwilling to accept the
solace she offered. Why had he bared his soul to this woman?
“Enough. The blame lies with you and your father. Speak no
more.””
“As you wish. I grow weary of protesting my innocence.”
Her small sigh made him regret his sharp reaction to her
words. He would do well to be wary. Though small and delicate
in appearance, she had a deceitful and dangerous nature. Almost
without effort, she discerned his feelings of guilt. Still, he found
himself wanting to lose himself in the sound of her voice and
revel in the touch of her hand.
Three
Since Kyne’s decree, Sianna remained quiet, but she knew
her silence didn’t please him. Even without a direct sense of
his emotions, his physical reactions as she shifted position behind
him told her much. Though unaware of what fate she faced
once they reached their destination, his solid strength comforted
The rolling gait of the quinar combined with the physical
and emotional stress of the last few days lulled Sianna to a
drowsy state. Leaning into Kyne, she let her eyes drift shut,
and her arms loosened around his waist.
“Do not sleep. If you slip from Hakan’s back, you might
just tumble off the mountain as well.” Kyne’s harsh tone
shattered her lethargy.
She blinked. The quinar picked his way along a narrow
path, his right side nearly scraping the rock wall rising upward.
To the left the path fell away into a deep, dark gorge. To fall
here meant to die. Even if the fall didn’t end her life, she would
lie broken and bleeding until death found her, for no one could
be rescued from the gorge’s steep, jagged depths. She shuddered
and tightened her grip. Kyne’s silent chuckle vibrated through
her body.
“See how she clings to life,” Katya’s voice mocked from
behind. “Despite the wounds your father inflicted on him, Aubin
clung to life as well. Throw her away, Kyne.”
Sianna felt Kyne stiffen at the venom in Katya’s words.
“Why did you not kill her yourself when you had the
opportunity?” Kyne questioned softly. “Why did you bring her
to me?”
Ahead the path widened. Without answering, Katya spurred
her quinar forward, pushing past Kyne and Sianna. Deju’s
hooves churned the ground, throwing dirt and rock into the
beckoning void. Quinar and rider raced away, but Katya’s
tumultuous emotions lingered.
“Who,�
�� Sianna asked, “does Katya hate more, herself or
me?”
“You need not fear Katya. It is not her place to carry out
judgement against you.”
Sianna lifted her head. “I don’t fear Katya. Though she
may hate me, she’ll not harm me. It is not in her to strike down
any creature weaker than herself. Nor do I fear judgement, for
I’ve done nothing to be judged guilty of, other than being born
my father’s daughter.”
“In my people’s eyes, that alone may be guilt enough.”
“Is it enough in your eyes?” she countered.
In answer, Kyne pulled Hakan to a halt and called out,
“We’ll rest here.”
Stopping at the edge of a mountain plateau, the group
dismounted to stretch their legs and give their beasts a moment’s
rest from the steep climb. The animals lowered their heads to
the dry grass covering the flat piece of land nestled in the midst
of towering peaks and deep crevices. Katya and Deju were
nowhere to be seen.
Sianna slid from Hakan’s back. Her legs wobbled a bit, but
she quickly got them under control and stepped away. Behind
her Kyne dismounted. He murmured to Hakan, who snuffled
in reply. She walked around, easing the stiffness from her limbs,
enjoying the weak warmth of the sun shining down on her head.
When she looked over her shoulder, she saw Kyne in deep
conversation with Graham. Both men appeared disturbed, and
she could sense Graham’s determination. Easing closer, she
peeked around Hakan’s bulk to listen.
“You must keep her identity a secret from those in the
stronghold. If anyone discovers she’s Laila DiSanti, she won’t
live out the day,” Graham said.
“And how do you propose I do that? Even if we can convince
Katya to remain silent, what of Je’al and the others? A secret
shared is no secret,” Kyne said.
“Leave Katya to me.”
Kyne merely lifted his eyebrows at Graham’s statement,
but said nothing.
“The others can be sent out on sentry patrol,” Graham
continued. “By the time they return, the problem will be resolved.”
Kyne raked a hand through his dark hair. “As usual, you
are right, my friend, but how do we explain the woman’s
presence?”
The argument so obviously won, Graham smiled. “Already