The Twelve Kingdoms (30 page)

“What I don't understand,” I finally said, “is how that could have felt so right when the other felt so wrong.”

“Because the other was wrong,” he replied immediately, verifying that he remained alert.

“It's the same act.”

“But not the same intent.”

I sighed, unsure what to think about it all. Not really wanting to think about it, in truth. “He wanted a male heir. It wasn't about me or even him. We both acted in service to the High Throne.”

“He wanted to control you. Rape is an act of power and violence. What he did was wrong and he knew it.”

“I'm not sure that's so. No, listen.” I put my hand on his chest. “He has ever been a law unto himself. That's how he accomplished the impossible, because he answers to nothing and no one. He became High King exactly because the rules meant nothing to him, and now he's above the law. That's what makes him King.”

“It's what makes him a monster.”

“One you're contractually bound to serve, I have to point out.”

“Not anymore.”

“What does that mean?” I shifted to sit, but he held me to his side.

“
You
listen, Ursula.” He sounded mean, unlike him, and I recognized the tone for a cold, burning anger. “I know you and I have different ideas about loyalty, but the
Elskastholrr
means that mine belongs to you above all things. That contract wasn't in conflict with my decision because both it and my pledge are to serve you, but it became void in my eyes the moment I learned what he'd done to you. I have no fealty, no obligation, to someone who would wound you so terribly.”

“You can't just void a contract.” I broke free of his hold, started to get up, but he pulled me onto his chest, holding me by the shoulders so I had to look at him.

“I can and will do whatever my pledge to you dictates.”

“Well, then, I'm telling you not to break that contract.”

He smiled, a grim line to his mouth making it deadly. “It doesn't work that way. My pledge was mine to give, and I did so freely, but that doesn't let you dictate to me. My agency remains mine and I decide how best to serve you.”

“What are you saying, Harlan?”

“I'm saying the man is a monster and the only way you can stop me from killing him is if someone else does. Or if you kill me.”

“I
'm not hearing this.”

“You heard me, Ursula. More—in your heart you know I'm right.”

“I don't know any such thing.” I shot the words at him. “You speak treason. Hire-sword or not, even you should respect that. Let me go.” I managed to slip out of his grip, but he simply rolled over, pinning me to the sand, holding my wrists above my head so I couldn't strike at him. Even now my body warmed to his weight, the press of his naked skin to mine. But I struggled anyway, more against the thought that he'd spoken so casually, so easily, of killing Uorsin.

Not casually—no. With sure and malevolent intent.

“I told you before that I'd kill him for what he did to you.”

“I didn't think you meant it.”

“I always mean what I say, particularly as it concerns you.”

I gave up resisting and stared him down. He calmly returned my glare. “I can't let you kill him.”

“Then you'll have to kill me.”

“I could.” At least, I told myself that.

“I have no doubt you're physically capable of it, and that I would not be able to stop you.”

“You'd just let me slaughter you.”

“No.” He sounded amused. “I would do my best to disarm you.” As if to demonstrate, he pressed a kiss under my ear, a place that worked wonders to melt me, even as angry with him as I felt. No. More panicked at the audacity of his words. “But if it came to your life or mine, I'd choose yours.”

“I don't understand you.”

“Yes, you do. You just struggle against it. This is who I am, Ursula. You don't have to have me, but it is who you get if you do want me.”

“I want you,” I whispered. Undeniable, with my body already craving his again, hot and ready to be filled once more. More than that. I'd never known anyone like him, who understood me with one glance.
I never could imagine even in my wildest dreams that there might be a woman like you in the world.
I knew what he meant because I felt the same. Almost without thought, I arched against him and he hummed in sensual agreement, dipping his head to take my nipple in his mouth. I moaned. Tried to focus. “But I can't let you kill him.”

“So I understand.”

“It falls to me to protect him.”

“He's not here. We are. Who knows what tomorrow will bring, yes? If we survive, we can fight about it another day.”

If I had my way, we'd never discuss it again. But I also intended for us all to survive. Either way, it made this interlude that much more precious. “I want you, Harlan.”

“You're not sore?” He raised his head to kiss me, then searched my face.

“No.” Though I was, a little. A small thing compared to the driving need, the desperate fear that we'd have little time to enjoy each other. That I'd already wasted too much time. I fastened my teeth in the corded muscle of his throat, delighting in the shudder that ran through him. “Make me forget again.”

“As you command.”

He rolled off me and retrieved another of his protections and urged me over him. I resisted. “With you on top—as we just were.”

“I don't want you to feel trapped.”

“You didn't mind a moment ago.” I pulled him down.

“True. But that wasn't sexual. I needed you to stay and finish the conversation.”

“You know what I think?” I nipped his ear. “I think it's all sexual. Your weight on me is part of it. Give me more.”

And with hands, mouth, and the powerful thrust of his body, he did exactly that.

I slept hard and woke up both sore and sated, blinking into Harlan's intent face. He brushed my cheek with gentle fingers and I realized that's what had awakened me. “The sun rises,” he said, by way of explanation, “else I'd have let you sleep longer.”

More than rising, the sun shone a good hand's width above the distant mountains. “Danu. I can't believe I slept so long. Why haven't they come looking for us?”

“No doubt wary of what state they'd find us in.”

“Hmm.” Naked, sticky, and both well used. Harlan bore the signs of our night together, with a number of scratches and bite marks on his chest and shoulders. I tapped one. “Should I apologize for this?”

He grinned and covered my hand with his, pressing it against his heart. “Never. Love marks such as these are a great compliment. They mean I pleased you enough that you lost yourself in the moment.”

“Don't let it go to your head.”

“Too late. I am full of smug self-congratulation this morning.” He bent and kissed me, lingering over it. “Full of you, my lovely hawk.”

I'd never been one to lie abed, usually filled with restless energy to go work out and make inroads on the day's responsibilities. Especially that day, poised on the brink of finding Ami and the babies, I should have been revving to get going. And yet, I wanted nothing more than to stay in our nest of sand and drown myself in the smell, taste, and feel of him.

Nevertheless.

I pushed him away and got to my feet. “I'm all over sand. A quick swim to clean up and we should go?”

“Duty calls,” he agreed and followed me into the water.

They were all waiting on us, saddled up and ready to go. I hadn't felt the spur of it, the concern that usually pricked me. With Harlan's comments on the topic in mind, I decided not to apologize, though it had been on my tongue to do so. Instead I offered morning greetings, which were returned along with an offer of breakfast and a smile from Andi that spoke volumes.

I refused to be embarrassed.

“We've sent some of the men ahead,” Rayfe told us, “to spring any traps.”

“Any new insights?” I asked Andi.

She rolled her eyes, looking pained. “Nothing that makes any sense yet. Stop asking me.”

“I just thought I'd check.”

“If I have something useful to offer, believe me, you'll be the first to know.” She'd dressed in her fighting leathers and had her hair braided back. Always a nervous fighter before, she seemed to have more confidence there now, too.

“I don't know if this is an invasive question”—I nodded particularly to Rayfe—“but in the interests of full disclosure and knowing what we're working with here—can Harlan and I expect that the rest of you might change out of human form at some point?”

“And the horses, too,” Rayfe answered.

“Except for Fiona and your steeds, of course,” Andi put in.

“We'll no doubt encounter same from the enemy,” I pointed out. “In the press of a fight, how shall we know you from them?”

They exchanged glances. “An excellent question,” Rayfe muttered.

“Part of learning to work and fight together, instead of against each other,” I cheerfully agreed.

“Who knew this day would come?” Rayfe returned darkly.

“Salena,” Andi said. “She knew. And she gave her daughter a tool, didn't she? Something to guide you.”

“You think it will work that way?” I asked.

“I think it could. Trust in what you sense is my advice. Captain Harlan—are you willing to take your cue from Ursula?”

“Always,” he replied.

Andi smiled at that, her nerves transforming into genuine affection. “I'm truly glad to hear that.”

We rode inland for several hours, going at a decent clip, but slower than the day before, wending through the coastal marshlands, following an indirect path. Whether from the weight of Andi's cautions or something I sensed on another level, my skin prickled even in the sultry warmth and my blood sang at high alert. The open, flat landscape seemed as if it would hide nothing, but those kinds of places could be the most deceptive. Especially when even the wildlife was suspect because your attackers could emerge from animal form of any kind.

Despite their wild appearance, Rayfe's men maintained a discipline of their own, the scouts reporting in on a precise schedule and rotating out again. At his command, two returning scouts shifted into wolfhounds and their mounts into birds that flew above them as they coursed out, noses to the ground.

Harlan grunted softly at the display. “I keep thinking I'll get used to that.” He spoke softly, also in battle readiness, as if he felt the press of the impending fight also, as if the enemy already surrounded us.

Which they might.

“You and I both.” I rolled my shoulders. Hopefully if Andi did so, I'd be able to take that in stride.

“I dislike this approach.” He glanced at me. “It feels ripe for ambush and it occurs to me that all three of Uorsin and Salena's heirs, plus the babies, will likely be in one place—all the better to eliminate you at once.”

“It's an unsettling thought. However, in any scenario, Ami, the babies, and I would have to be together.”

“Not if you let me do the rescuing.”

“While I hang back and stay safe? Not happening.” I pointed my chin toward Andi, who spoke with Rayfe riding a short distance ahead. He nodded at something she said and silently signaled two more men to shift into hounds, who then took off in another direction. “Besides, I suspect we'll have need of Andi's skills. I trust in what she's seen.”

“A strange way to plan a battle, on the vague prognostications of a sorceress who fully admits she might be wrong.”

I grinned at him. “Keeps things interesting.”

A wolfhound in the distance barked, a staccato series that sent the others galloping that direction. I palmed a throwing knife and we raced after, bringing up the rear. Rayfe halted at a copse of short trees that dripped with a bloodred fruit I didn't recognize. He held up a hand to signal caution and for us to come forward.

We closed the distance, then dismounted. The Tala wolfhound sat on a patch of grass in the shade of the tree, watching with far-too-intelligent eyes. I crouched, examining the grass the dog indicated, Harlan following suit.

“I don't see anything.” I kept my voice as low as possible and reached out to run my hand through the grass, but Harlan stayed me with a soft tap.

“There,” he barely whispered. I frowned where he pointed, still not seeing what he did. Tugging my elbow, he backed us out of the copse, the wolfhound coming with us. Harlan mounted, pointed, and, taking the lead now, urged his horse into a fast trot, the wolfhound at his stirrup now. I shrugged at Andi and followed. She nodded once, as if I'd confirmed something for her, she and Rayfe falling in behind us.

The attack came with no warning. None beyond the one I'd glimpsed in Andi's tense expression.

All around us, the grass seemed to explode into life, creatures from nightmares—large, toothy lizards—launching up in a disorienting rush, biting at our horses' legs with a savage attempt to hamstring them. The Tala steeds became birds, flying up, then plummeting back down to return the attack with hooked beaks and slicing talons, their erstwhile riders transforming into various snarling beasts that fell on the lizards. Andi dove from Fiona's back, becoming a large, lethal-looking cat in midair, while Fiona—exquisitely trained to Andi's signals—neatly leapt out of range, raced at top speed a short distance away, then turned to wait.