Nightrunners 03 - Traitor's Moon (29 page)

Beka laughed in spite of the hot, resentful ache in her belly—or perhaps because of it. "I'm no virgin. But I'm not beautiful either, and don't need to fancy myself so. I'd rather we just be honest with each other, if it's all the same to you."

He stared at her in amazement. "Anyone who claims you are not beautiful is a fool. The first time I looked into your eyes I saw it, yet you have been denying it since we met."

He took her hand again. "I apologize for the clumsiness of my persistence, but I swear I will continue to say so until you believe me. You're unlike any woman I've ever met."

Trapped between doubt and arousal, Beka froze, unable to reply.

Misreading her hesitation, he brought her hand to his lips. "At least allow me to call you 'friend.' I promised your almost-brother I would never bring dishonor on you. I keep my word."

Perhaps he'd meant the gesture to be a chaste one; the warmth of his lips on her palm sent a wave of raw desire spiraling through her. Suddenly the light brush of her shirt against her skin was too much to bear. Freeing one hand, she pulled the shirt off, letting it drop to the dusty floor at her feet. Nyal's lips parted in a sigh as he traced the scars on her arms, chest, and side. "A true warrior."

"All my wounds are in the front," Beka managed, trying to sound flippant but shivering at the hot-and-cold touch of his fingers across her skin. By the time he reached her shoulders and breasts she was trembling.

"I like your spots," he murmured, bending to kiss her shoulder.

"Freckles," she corrected breathlessly, tugging up his tunic.

"Ah, yes. Freckles." He paused long enough to help her with his clothes, then pulled her close again. "So exotic."

That's a first,
she thought, too far gone in the feel of his body warm against hers to care. His fingers traced burning patterns across her skin wherever he touched her, the sensation unlike anything she'd ever felt. Pulling back a little, she asked in wonder, "Are you using magic on me, Ra'basi?"

The hazel eyes widened, then tilted up at the corners as he laughed. The rich vibration of it against her chest and belly was a new and unprecedented pleasure.

"Magic?" he exclaimed, shaking his head. "By the Light, what sort of dolts have you let make love to you?"

Beka's laughter echoed around the ruined room as she pulled him closer. "Educate me!"

Nyal's expert tutelage lasted well over an hour, Beka guessed, seeing how the shadows had crept closer to where they lay. When it was over she was a good deal wiser, and happier than she'd been in recent memory.

The bed had proved too rickety, so they'd made do with a pallet of clothing on the floor. Unsnarling her breeches from the tangled mass, she reluctantly pulled them on, then leaned down to give her new lover a lingering kiss. Outside, thunder rumbled heavily in the distance.

Nyal's flushed face reflected her own elation. "Beautiful Tir," he said, gazing up at her.

"Beautiful Aurenfaie," she replied in his own language, no longer contesting his opinion.

"I did not think you would have me. Do all Tir hold back so?"

Beka considered this. "I have duties. What my heart and body want aren't what my head thinks I should do. And—"

"And?" he asked when she looked away.

"And I'm a little afraid of what you make me feel, afraid because I know it won't last. I lost someone, too. He died. Was killed." Beka closed her eyes against sorrow long denied. "He was a warrior, an officer in my regiment. I didn't have long with him, but we cared a great deal for each other. The pain I felt when he died was ..." She stopped again, searching for words that wouldn't sound too cold but not finding them. "It was a

distraction. I can't allow that sort of thing, not when I have people depending on me to lead them."

Nyal stroked her face until she opened her eyes again. "I won't hurt you, Beka Cavish, or cause you any distraction if it's in my power to avoid it. What we do—" He grinned, waving a hand around at the disordered room. "We are two friends sharing a gift of Aura. There's no pain from that. Whether you're here or in Skala, we are friends."

"Friends," Beka agreed, even as the little voice from her heart taunted,
Too late, too late!

"It's early yet," she said, rising. "Show me more of your city. Seems I have an unquenchable appetite for wonders today."

Nyal sprawled limply and let out a comic groan. "Warrior women!"

They were nearly dressed when something he'd said earlier suddenly struck her. Turning to Nyal, she raised an eyebrow and demanded, "When exactly did you and my 'almost-brother' discuss what to do with me?"

Beka's sudden appearance in the doorway of one of the ruined houses startled Kheeta as much as it did Alec.

"Aura's Fingers!" the Bokthersan laughed, reining in. "That's the first red-haired Bash'wai I've ever seen."

Beka froze for a moment, face reddening behind her freckles. An instant later Nyal stepped from the shadows behind her.

"Well, well, Captain," Alec said in Skalan, grinning mercilessly as he took in their disheveled hair and dust-streaked clothing. "Out reconnoitering?"

"I'm off duty," she retorted, and something in the look she gave him warned against further teasing.

"Have you shown her the House of Pillars yet?" Kheeta asked, apparently oblivious to the situation, or why his innocent question should draw such a loud and poorly suppressed snort of laughter from Alec.

"We were just heading there," Nyal replied, fighting to keep a straight face. "Why don't you come along with us?"

"Yes,
do
come!" Beka said, walking up to Alec and grasping his stirrup. In a low voice, she added, "You can keep a closer eye on me that way, Almost-Brother."

Alec winced.
Damn you, Nyal!

The house in question lay several streets away. Thunder cracked

again, much closer now, and a sudden gust of wind blew their hair into their eyes.

"There it is," Kheeta said, pointing out a sprawling, open-sided structure through the gloom. Just then the skies opened up in earnest. Lightning bleached the air white for an instant, then darkness closed down around them with a deafening roll of thunder. Gripping the reins of their nervous mounts, Alec and Kheeta dashed toward shelter through the pelting rain with Beka and Nyal close behind.

The House of Pillars was a pavillion with a flat, tiled roof set on ranks of tall, evenly spaced black columns. Shreds of faded cloth hung here and there, suggesting that walls of a sort had been created by hanging tapestries between the columns.

"Looks like we'll be here awhile," said Beka, raising her voice to be heard over the downpour.

A damp wind swept through the outer columns, and they retreated farther to avoid the soaking rain that blew in with it. Alec reached inside his coat for the lightstone in his tool roll, then remembered he'd left both back at his room. Kheeta and Nyal flicked their fingers, and small globes of light snapped into being at their tips.

"What was this place?" asked Alec, speaking Skalan for Beka's benefit.

"A summer retreat," said Nyal. "It gets terribly hot here in summer. The roof makes shade and there are bathing pools further in."

Occasional flashes from outside threw bars of light and shadow across their path as they walked deeper into the forest of pillars.

Alec had assumed they had the place to themselves, but soon heard the sound of water splashing and the echo of voices from somewhere ahead of them.

Emerging into a large chamber, they came to a large round bathing pool fed by underground springs. Channels fanned out from it to smaller pools and what appeared to have been water gardens or fish pools.

A few dozen people were swimming naked in the large pool. Others sat nearby playing some kind of game by the light of hovering light orbs. Alec noted with a twinge of unease that most of those who were dressed wore the sen'gai of Haman or Lhapnos. Judging by their age and clothes, they were young retainers of those delegations, taking their ease while their elders attended the council.

Nyal approached them with his usual openness, but Kheeta hung back warily.

"Nyal i Nhekai!" called a Lhapnosan youth. "It's been too long since I've seen you,
my friend. Come join us."

His welcoming smile died, however, at sight of Alec and the others. Getting to his feet, the Lhapnosan let one hand rest near the hilt of the knife in his belt. Several of his companions did the same.

"But I forgot," he said, eyes narrowing. "You're not keeping the best company these days."

"He certainly isn't," one of the swimmers remarked, climbing from the pool. He strode up to them, his face set in a disdainful frown.

Alec tensed, recognizing him by the dragon bite on his chin. This was no servant. He'd been with the Haman khirnari last night at the Silmai banquet.

The Haman stood a moment, eyeing them with distaste. "A Bokthersan, a Tirfaie." His gaze came to rest on Alec. "And the Exile's
garshil ke 'menios."

Alec understood only half the phrase—
garshil
meant "mongrel"—but that and the Haman's tone left no doubt that it was a calculated insult.

"This is Emiel i Moranthi of Haman, the khirnari's nephew," Nyal warned in Skalan.

"I know who he is," said Alec, keeping his tone neutral, as if he hadn't understood the insult.

Kheeta had no such reservations. "You should choose your words more carefully, Emiel i Moranthi!" he snarled, stepping closer.

Alec laid a hand on his arm, then said in Aurenfaie, "He can use what words he likes. It's of no concern to me."

His antagonist's eyes narrowed; none of the Haman had bothered chatting with him the night before and no doubt assumed he did not speak their language.

"What's going on?" Beka muttered, sensing trouble.

"Just a few insults between clans," Alec said evenly. "Best to walk away."

"Yes," Nyal agreed, no longer smiling as he urged the glowering Kheeta back the way they'd come. But Beka was still eyeing the naked man.

"It was nothing," Alec repeated firmly, snagging her by the sleeve and following.

"What's the matter, too frightened to join us?" Emiel jeered.

It was Alec who wheeled around and, against all better judgment, strode back to face him. With the same bravado he'd once used staring down back-alley toughs, he crossed his arms and cocked his head to one side, slowly scanning Emiel from head to foot until his would-be adversary shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

"No," Alec replied at last, raising his voice for all to hear. "I see nothing here that frightens me."

He sensed the attack coming and jumped back as Emiel lunged for him. The Hainan's companions caught at him, dragging him back. Alec felt hands on his arms, too, but shook them off, needing no restraint. Somewhere behind him, Beka was cursing pungently in two languages as Kheeta restrained her.

"Remember where you are, all of you," Nyal warned, shouldering in between them.

Emiel hissed softly between clenched teeth, but fell back. "Thank you, my friend," he sneered, though his gaze never left Alec. "Thank you for not letting me soil my hands with this little garshil ke'menios."

With that, he sauntered back toward the pool.

"Come away," Nyal urged.

The skin between his shoulder blades prickled and he tensed, expecting any moment for the Haman to change their minds and renew the fight. Aside from a few jeers and muttered insults, however, the defenders of the pool let them go in peace.

"What was that he called you?" Beka asked again as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Nothing that matters."

"Oh, I can see that! What did he say?" Beka demanded.

"I didn't get all of it."

"He called you a mongrel boy whore," Kheeta growled.

Alec could feel his face burning and was glad of the shadows.

"I've been called worse," he lied. "Let it go, Beka. The last thing Klia needs is the head of her bodyguard getting into a brawl."

"Bilairy's
Balls!
That filthy son of a—"

"Please, Beka, you mustn't say such things aloud. Not here," said Nyal. "Emiel's behavior is understandable. Seregil murdered his kinsman, and by our reckoning, Alec is kin to Seregil. Surely it's not so different among your own people?"

"Back home you can knock somebody's teeth in without starting a war," she snapped.

Nyal shook his head. "What a place this Skala must be."

Alec caught a hint of motion out of the corner of his eye just then and slowed, peering into the darkness between the pillars. Perhaps the Haman hadn't been put off so easily after all. He caught a hint of an unfamiliar scent, heavy with musk and spice. Then it was gone.

"What is it?" Beka asked softly.

"Nothing," he said, though instinct warned otherwise.

Outside, it was raining harder than ever. Curtains of mist anchored the clouds to the rooftops.

"Perhaps you should ride back with us," Kheeta suggested.