Harvest of Gold (4 page)

Sarah nibbled on her lower lip. “Do you think Darius will like the red?”

“He’d have to be blind not to. My advice is not to breathe deeply while you are wearing it. The latest fashions are very tight on top.”

Sarah groaned. “Pack the blue, then. I didn’t realize you had made the red so formfitting. No wonder you didn’t let me try it on when you were finished.”

“I’ve already packed the red,” Pari said, her soft mouth pulled into a stubborn line. “I wished I could see Lord Darius’s expression when he sees you in it.”

Well. If wearing tight, scarlet garments was going to grab her husband’s attention, perhaps she should stop arguing and allow Pari to choose her wardrobe. “You will land me in a heap of trouble one of these days,” she said.

“You don’t need
me
for that.” Pari sat down on a couch and picked up Sarah’s winter riding tunic, which needed minor mending. “Why are the New Year celebrations in Susa? I thought they were always held in Persepolis.”

“This year, the king decided to change the venue and remain in the old palace. I think he wished to avoid the aggravation of travel.”

Foreign officials from around the empire had been notified of the change; in a matter of weeks they would be descending into Susa’s ancient halls, bringing gifts for Artaxerxes as a sign of their continued fealty to the empire. There would be special ceremonies and endless feasts.

“You will attend at least ten separate events in the first week of the year alone, regardless of the location,” Pari said, her head bent to her task. “A separate outfit for each occasion, with matching jewels. This is your first New Year as a lady of rank. There will be many demands on your time.”

Sarah groaned at the thought of the ceaseless gatherings and the constant social activity. “I abhor the fuss. Give me the company of close friends over a large, formal affair any day.”

Having grown up as the daughter of a Jewish scribe, she still found the requirements of life for an aristocratic woman trying. It was easy to forget Darius’s privileged background when they were alone together. He offered amenable company and never pointed out her ignorance. But in public, the differences became uncomfortably obvious. His speech, manner, and every gesture marked him as a highborn lord, while she struggled to fit into a world that always felt foreign.

If only she weren’t so tired. She forced herself to her feet. Pari continued to apply her ivory needle into the padded, moss-green garment of her winter riding tunic with careful expertise. Although they were at the tail end of the season, it would be cold through the mountainous trails. Sarah made a face. She wasn’t looking forward to freezing on horseback for twelve days straight.

“Would you please organize a bath for me?” Sarah asked. A hot soak might ease her muscles, cramped from hours of sitting and squinting over detailed documents.

“Of course, my lady.” Pari set aside her needle and left to arrange Sarah’s late-night wash.

Hot steam and the scent of roses filled the bathhouse when Sarah arrived. Pari handed her a pumice stone and a perfumed scrub, and, sensing Sarah’s need for quiet, retreated to a far corner of the bathhouse. Sarah stepped into the small sunken pool, sighing with pleasure as the hot water lapped about her. Slowly, the knots of tension began to melt. It would be many days before she could enjoy this luxury again. Traveling on the back roads, far from the royal stage houses, meant hurried washing with freezing water drawn from rivers and streams—
if
a river was available.

Even in the summer months when bathing in a stream might prove a delightful distraction from the heat, tradition forbade it. Persians believed washing dirty linen or even the human body in a river brought pollution into creation. One was permitted to draw water for the purpose of ablution, but the Persians considered outdoor bathing an act of irreverence. Sarah closed her eyes and sank deeper, determined to derive as much enjoyment out of
this
bath as she could.

She finished rinsing her hair, and for a few moments allowed herself to float in the water, enjoying the sensation of doing nothing. A hand began to wash her back with a cloth. “That feels so good, Pari. Thank you.” The touch became soft. Sensual. Sarah’s eyes snapped open and she twisted her head to find her husband squatting on one knee on the tiles surrounding the sunken pool, a wicked grin making his eyes sparkle.

Sputtering, Sarah pulled away into the middle of the bath, keeping her back to him, her arms wrapped securely about her body. “What are you doing?” She sounded like one of his peacocks sporting a head cold. In all her months of marriage, he had never visited the bathhouse while she occupied it. She felt ridiculously shy about his presence. There was something vulnerable about sitting in a bath while Darius crouched above her, fully clothed, not a wave of his long hair out of place.

He shrugged as he twirled the wet washcloth. “I needed to speak with you.”

Sarah tried to regain her composure, and said with as much aplomb as she could muster, “Would you please wait until I return to my chamber?”

“It’s late already. I would prefer to speak now. Besides, this is more fun. I’ve never visited you here. An oversight on my part.”

Sarah gaped. “Where is Pari? I saw her a few moments ago.”

“I dismissed her. That poor girl appeared beyond fatigued; she was half asleep on the wet tiles.”

Caught between guilt for not noticing Pari’s need for slumber and pique at her husband’s high-handed manner, she said, “How thoughtful.”

Darius nodded, his smile widening. “Would you like to come out?”

“Yes.” Her towel, folded neatly, lay on a marble bench out of her reach. Sarah pointed to it. “May I have my towel?”

He seemed to think for a moment. “Certainly.” He made no move to fetch it. Instead, he lifted a courteous hand. “Please. Help yourself.”

Sarah lowered her lashes. He wished to play games, did he? An abrupt determination to beat her husband at his own antics brought new vigor to her sluggish mind. She knew that if Darius had noted the steely glint of resolve in the cast of her face, he would have been more prepared for a challenge. As it was, he perched behind her on the tiled floor, as innocent as an infant, thinking himself in complete control. Which suited her well.

“Upon reflection, perhaps
you
should come
in
?” Over her shoulder, she gave him an inviting smile. It was impossible to miss the sudden blaze in the forest green eyes. She lifted her own arm in a parody of his movements from a moment before. With her back to him, the gesture lost some of its blithe hilarity. But it would have to do. “Please. Help yourself.” She motioned to the water.

Darius shot up and began to take off one leather shoe, then the other, hopping in his haste.

“I think your men will appreciate the scent of roses on your hair tomorrow as we set out for Susa,” Sarah said sweetly, hiding behind her hair.

Darius went still mid-hop, one foot in the grasp of his hands. With slow movements, he straightened. Then he burst into laughter. “I concede the victory to you, my lady. I do not wish to smell like roses.” He fetched the linen towels that Pari had left behind and offered them to her.

“What did you want to discuss?” Sarah asked as she toweled her hair dry.

“Vidarna came to see me. He said you had worn yourself out working on the estate records since yesterday before dawn, and you looked exhausted. I’m sorry about that. When I asked you to help me with the management of my estates, I didn’t mean that you should work like a slave.”

Sarah experienced a pang of fond appreciation for Vidarna. She found it hard to believe that the taciturn scribe had looked at her long enough to notice how tired she was. “Please don’t concern yourself, my lord. I wanted to finish before leaving. I made my own decision.”

“Nonetheless, I can see you are weary. I came to tell you that I have delayed our departure by one day. Tomorrow, I wish you to rest.”

“There is no need! We cannot afford the extra day, Darius. It could make us late.”

“That’s not as important as you.” He reached out and grasped her hand. With a slow, deliberate pull, he drew her into his arms and cradled her. His touch was comforting, void of demand. He didn’t even seem to mind that her damp towel was leaving a wet smudge over the front of his tunic. “Not nearly as important as you,” he said again, his lips close to her ear.

His words, spoken with solemn sincerity, melted her heart. She felt protected in the folds of his embrace. Her body relaxed and she felt enveloped by a sense of peace. It occurred to her that in spite of his inward struggles, in spite of the fact that he did not fully trust her, in spite of his divided heart, her husband cherished her. He wanted to keep her safe. He wanted her happy. Because of his neglect over the past several days, she had allowed herself to sink into insecurity, and then into resentment. She had focused on his shortcomings and forgotten that he was a true gift to her.

She turned with a slight motion and kissed his neck. He went still. Sarah kissed him again, more boldly. He tangled his hand in her wet hair and turned her face toward his so that he could see her more clearly.

“You aren’t too tired?”

She shook her head and, standing on tiptoe, kissed him on the mouth, her lips shy. “I love you,” she said. It was the first time she had said the words without his prompting. The fact that he never made a similar declaration made her want to keep her own feelings hidden inside. But Darius coaxed and cajoled them out of her. Tonight, she offered up the words as a free gift. Her pride could not compare with his joy.

He drew a sharp breath at her words. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

With an inarticulate sound, he dragged her tighter against him. For the span of a moment he studied her, his dark lashes lowered, his expression unreadable. Then he kissed her with an explosive tenderness that dissolved the last of her reserve.

Darius snapped into full consciousness, aware that an unfamiliar noise had dragged him out of sleep. Years of military training had honed his instincts for danger so that he was already taking inventory of the surroundings before his eyes adjusted to the starlight. With relief he noted that Sarah slept undisturbed next to him, her body squeezed tight against his side in an unconscious effort to ward off the night chill.

He shifted his head to look for Arta, who had been assigned guard duty. In the firelight, he could see the man sprawled on the ground, his head slumped forward at an awkward angle. Darius’s heart pumped with an unpleasant rush as he noticed the dark liquid clinging to the side of Arta’s slack face.

Besides Arta, he had three men riding with him. One was gagged and tied. He caught the attention of the second man, Meres, who remained alert and unbound, faking sleep. Meres pointed behind him with a subtle rising of his brow.

Following his signal, Darius noted that there were four intruders busy with gagging and tying the remaining member of his company.
Five
, he amended, taking in the massive shoulders of a leather-bound man skulking toward him, holding a wide short sword. Darius grasped his knife, the only weapon he had kept strapped against his thigh when he had fallen into his pallet last night after an exhausting journey through treacherous slopes.

The wide-shouldered man stood over him now. Filled with the peculiar calm that often came to him in the heat of battle, Darius realized that the man held his sword at a curious angle, like a club. He wasn’t intent on killing him so much as subduing him, then.

With a lightning-quick movement, Darius swept his leg, catching his attacker in the ankles. Surprised, the man lost his balance for a moment. Darius rolled to his feet, and, taking advantage of his opponent’s unsteadiness, kicked him hard in the groin. The man dropped his sword and doubled over, in too much agony to cry out.

Darius grabbed the discarded sword and hit the man on the back of the head with the dense, bronze handle. With a grunt he fell over, unconscious.

“Consider it a favor,” Darius said, knowing from old experience that his attacker wouldn’t want to be awake through
that
pain.

“Darius?” Sarah was kneeling on her pallet, her eyes wide with shock. Darius swallowed hard. When he had consented to having her join him on their trip, he had not expected anything more dangerous than their daily rides, which, upon occasion, brought them to high mountain passes. The thought of what might happen to her in the midst of a melee made his gut twist into a tight knot.

He forced his voice to sound calm. “Hide behind that rock. Don’t move unless I call!”

She didn’t stir. “
Hurry
,” he whispered, a sharp bite underlying the command. To his relief, she obeyed.

The rest of their unknown attackers were now aware that he was not asleep and could no longer be taken by surprise. He saw Meres engaging two men while the other two headed in his direction. Darius frowned, perplexed by the fact that they seemed unarmed except for a long, skinny stick which one of them held casually in one hand. He used the moments he had before they reached him to try to cut one of his men, Sama, loose from his bonds. He had time to cut the ties about Sama’s wrists and grab a shield before his two opponents were almost upon him.