A Warrior's Heart Page 14

  Uncomfortable with the sensation, he struck back. He closed his mind to everything but the overwhelming need to imprint his claim on her. By the time they returned to the city with the trade contract, she'd have forgotten all about Lcrier and whatever plans she'd made. He'd see to it. His lips slanted over hers. When she didn't open her mouth fast enough to suit him, he pressed his thumb against the corner of her mouth until she had to admit him. His tongue swept inside. Her eyes slid closed and her hands relaxed to curl hesitantly over his shoulders.

  Drakthe knew a singing relief. He gentled his mouth. Images of what he wanted to do to her formed in his mind. He moved back until her feet touched the smooth rock floor of the pool. His hands found the ties at Cheyna's throat that closed the robe and he opened them, sliding the robe off her shoulders. Her lashes lifted, revealing fathomless blue orbs that gazed at him, waiting. Wisps of steam rose around and caressed her flawless skin. Heat painted her cheeks with a delicate flush.

  "You're so beautiful."

  Had he whispered the words aloud? He couldn't be certain. His hands held the barest tremor as he slid the nubby material from her shoulders. His fingers brushed the fragile hollows and bones of her throat. She shivered and a wave of heat roared over him. He lowered his head, his hair brushing the tops of her breasts as his mouth replaced his fingers. Cheyna moaned, the small, intoxicating sound just as he'd imagined.

  The last of her resistance slipped away. A sound, half laughter and half impatient groan, escaped as he set about making the rest of his fantasies come true.

  Cheyna eyed Drakthe. He looked just like a Raipierian after lazing in the sun: large, powerful and utterly sated. She fished out her robe, frowning momentarily as she wrung out the water. She slipped the robe on, shuddering at the clammy feel of the material.

  Dazed, she realized that for the first time in their relationship Drakthe had taken complete control of the mindlink. Always before, she had been awash in the backlash of his emotions. This time it had been different.

  This time fully formed images of Drakthe touching her, of pulling forth small moans and demanding cries, had been inserted in her mind even as he mirrored his every move on the physical level.

  The twin assault on her senses had been devastating.

  She jumped when he settled his arm over her shoulders in a warm, heavy weight. Jolted out of her disquieting thoughts, she allowed him to steer her down the silent passages. Back in their room at the inn, her mind returned to the unnerving discovery.

  How was it possible that Drakthe had entered her mind? Better yet, taken control of a link? He, a Scimtarian. For that matter, how could she? Over her foster parents' objections, while still a cub she had insisted on being psi tested. The results were devastating to a young girl who, no matter how well loved, felt different, left out because she must communicate verbally. Her parents had attempted to console her. Scimtarians were, they explained, for all intents and purposes, psi-null. The only ability they possessed was empathy, and only a very few even had that. She was lucky, they told her. Her empathic skills were extremely strong for a Scimtarian.

  Cheyna hadn't felt lucky. She'd felt inadequate. Looking back now, it occurred to her that she had tried to make up for her perceived lack by becoming more Raipier than the Raipier.

  She shook herself. That was wind-blown sand, she needed to understand what was happening now, in the present. Somehow, she had to find a way to contact Slia without raising Drakthe's suspicions. She thought hard but the facts remained the same. Not until she reached the Agora could she be certain of getting a message out without the risk of Drakthe finding out. The NaturPaths would not reveal her secret to a male. The decision made, she felt better at once.

  Drakthe was looking at her with a strange expression on his face. Cheyna became aware she was standing beside the pallet, staring at the mattress. She forced down a rush of heat and frowned at him. He grinned. She could just imagine what was going through his mind. The man was too arrogant by half.

  Sinking down onto the feather mattress, she silently dared him to say anything. He didn't. Instead, a slight smile on his lips, he crossed to room's only window.

  Propping one hip on the windowsill, he peered out. One lock of hair fell over his forehead and Cheyna had the urge to go over and brush it off. Before she could give in to the impulse, he raked it back into place with an impatient hand. His attention centered on something below, Drakthe scuffed the toe of his boot on the floor. The gesture reminded her of Tanni.

  "Oh, my lord? Have you heard if Shhiv has arranged to secure a NaturPath?"

  The dingy curtain shading the window fell back into place, and Drakthe turned stiffly to face her. "To secure a NaturPath? For what reason?"

  "To replace Sirri, the NaturPath that disappeared, of course."

  The stiffness eased. He settled back against the sill, his arms crossed over his chest. "I don't know. I'll make inquiries if you like," he offered.

  She inclined her head in formal agreement. "Thank you. I told Tanni you would look into the matter."

  Drakthe nudged the curtain aside with one finger and stared down at the street. Across the street, Lcrier was entering a pvern. He considered following him to issue another warning, but decided against it. He felt too good to waste time on the vseal, he thought, stretching. The important thing to remember was Cheyna hadn't been meeting with Lcrier. He halted abruptly in mid stretch. "Who's Tanni?" A knock sounded at the door. Annoyed at the interruption, he strode across the small chamber and yanked the door open.

  Hand half-raised to knock again, fear flashed across the lodge keeper's face as he was confronted by Drakthe's ferocious glare. "The meal you requested, my...my lord," he stammered, taking a hasty step back. Dinnerware rattled and the man held the tray up as proof.

  Drakthe wasn't in the mood to soothe the man's jitters. "Just set it down over there," he instructed brusquely, pointing to the lone table in the room. Not bothering to conceal his impatience, he waited for the man to take his leave. He shut the door with a small bang.

  "Who's Tanni?"

  "The son of the man I told you about." Cheyna drifted over to the tray of food and lifted one lid. Drakthe heard her stomach rumbled from across the room as she sniffed the herb rice.

  "What man?" He scowled. Now, who, in the name of the Saints, was Cheyna babbling about? The woman was going to drive him insane with her fits and starts. Dropping into the chair by the small table, he accepted the platter she held out to him.

  "The man I healed," she explained. "I told you about him in the pools."

  When she wouldn't meet his eyes, he recalled the heated water and the even hotter feel of her clenched around his flesh as he was buried deep inside her body. "I don't--," he paused, remembering his bondwife's passionate refutation of his accusations. "Ah, yes, the wounded man. You never did finish telling me about him." He grinned in pure masculine satisfaction as he also remembered exactly how she had gotten sidetracked.

  Cheyna glowered at him. "I was on my way to the pools," she said pointedly, "when Tanni asked me to tend to his father."

  "How did the boy know you were a NaturPath?" He propped one scarred boot over his knee and settled back.

  "I am not sure. I meant to ask but forgot."

  Drakthe made a mental note to check and see if Lcrier had spread word of Cheyna's talent. His back teeth ground together as he considered that he might have reacted to Cheyna's delay exactly as Lcrier intended. It was an unpleasant thought. If the vseal had set up the entire scene, he really would have to reconsider the level of the man's intelligence. "What sort of injuries did the boy's father have? And what is this about the disappearance of Shhiv's NaturPath?"

  Cheyna eyed the last helping of rice before, with a sigh, she scooped it onto his platter. "It was most unusual, my lord. The injuries I tended were well beyond my normal scope. Do you know of an animal that leaves deep regular slashes in the arms and legs?"

  "Not the throat?"

  "No, not in the th
roat, although several marks on his chest may have been meant for the throat. Also," she frowned, "what manner of animal leaves a roughened circle," her forefinger and thumb joined together in an approximation of size, "on the temples? One that might use a poison to burn?"

  "None of which I know. Was he injured in Shhiv?"

  She shook her head. "No. Tanni told me that his father was escorting the NaturPath to an outlying district. I gained the impression they both were attacked, but only Tanni's father survived the ordeal."

  "Did he say what district?" He straightened as an uneasy intuition kicked into gear. Shhiv was the last township before the Plains of Skaen. Of course, it was possible that the NaturPath was visiting scattered families--NaturPaths had an uncanny sense of timing--but somehow he didn't think so.

  "No. I do not believe he knows his father's destination. Drakthe?" The troubled note in Cheyna's voice captured his full attention. "When I touched Tanni's father," she licked her lips, "when I opened my mind to his, I experienced a--a sense of wrongness."

  Drakthe's stomach knotted in immediate denial.

  "Cheyna, don't try to convince me that hocus pocus you NaturPaths like to spout is real. I said I would look into the matter. Leave it alone."

  Of course she didn't.

  "My lord--Drakthe, do you honestly believe a NaturPath's empathy is nothing more than hocus pocus?"

  Drakthe played with a few grains of rice, thinking of a response that wouldn't hurt her feelings. At last he gave up. Bluntness was a part of his nature. "I think it's a good gimmick. It gives them an aura of mystery. Impresses the heck out of the locals."

  "This is what you believe I do?" she asked, a suspicious neutrality in her refined tone. "Deceive my patients with an aura of mystery?"

  Drakthe stopped playing with the rice. Jkael. Talking with Cheyna was like treading a crumbling mountain trail; one never knew if the next step would send you spinning off the ledge. "Don't put words in my mouth. That isn't what I meant at all."

  "I am not putting words in your mouth. I am a NaturPath. I practice a NaturPath's belief in healing the whole patient. Does my belief make me a charlatan, a trickster?"

  "What it makes you, House-daughter, is naive. You think you can go into others' minds and heal them because that is what they convinced you," he said, positive of his conclusion.

  "You forget one thing, my lord," she contradicted. "I did not apprentice."

  "I said leave it alone." He gentled his tone. "I don't want to hurt you, bondwife. Let's just agree to disagree on this."

  To his amazement she didn't demur. He almost wished she had when she asked, "My lord, did you actually think I had run off with Lord Lcrier?"

  Drakthe shifted, the chair seeming much too small all at once. "Drakthe," he corrected automatically. "I thought there was a chance you might have," he gritted.

  "My lord, even you cannot be that witless." She sounded exasperated.

  "Why not?" he countered. "You were hanging onto the vseal's every word. One might have reason to believe you regretted our bargain."

  "Nonsense. Only someone incredibly obtuse would think that."

  "What else would you expect from an insensitive, untrusting, blind warrior?" he asked blandly.

  "I am sure I did not say that. Exactly." she amended, crimson staining her cheeks until they looked hot enough to burn. It might be petty, but Drakthe gained some small satisfaction from her discomfort.

  "Ah, but you did," he reminded her, wicked amusement springing to life.

  "If I did, then I am sure you deserved it. You, my lord," she said, darkly, "have a very bad habit of assuming the worse."

  "Drakthe. Why should I not assume the worse?"

  "Because I bound my honor with yours." Her chest rose and fell.

  He was getting under her skin. He pushed harder. "Is that the only reason? Because you consider your honor bound to mine?"

  "Is that not reason enough?" she demanded, sounding goaded beyond endurance.

  "Is that the only reason?" he insisted, his voice little more than a whisper.

  "No," she admitted, a sullen expression on her face.

  In the blink of an eye, Drakthe was out of his chair and looming over her. "Tell me, Cheyna. Tell me."

  "Because, my lord, I cannot contemplate allowing another man's touch!" she flared.

  "Ah, House-daughter, you whisper the sweetest nothings in my ear." Unable to contain his elation, Drakthe scooped her out of the chair. "Come, House-daughter," he coaxed, "show me the next level of Sai and Kai."

  Chapter 10

  Cheyna caught her breath as they topped a pass. Spread below was Consonance run amuck. Trees twisted in impossible shapes, shadowed craggy upthrusts appeared from nowhere and, above it all, a dark, malevolent aura hung invisibly over the sun-drenched land.

  A chill scraped down Cheyna's spine.

  "Is that--" she licked suddenly dry lips, "--is that the Plains of Skaen?"

  Ahead of her, Drakthe reined to a halt, giving the taigers a breather. His gaze followed hers. "Yeah, that's it." He started down the steep path.

  It was eerie, Cheyna thought as light was sucked from the sky, the way one felt stalked even in an area open for miles. She shivered and hurried to catch up with Drakthe as a hammering pressure bore down upon her head.

  Three days later, as night consumed day, Cheyna knew she'd never grow used to sense of menace that was her constant companion. Even Drakthe was affected. Tension tightened his shoulders as he followed a trail that disappeared and appeared at will.

  He dismounted. "We'll stop here. No sense in pushing our luck. We're on the correct trail once more, I'd rather not lose it in the dark."

  By the time Cheyna emerged from the shadows, a fire crackled and sputtered, sending small showers of sparks flying into the night. Ruffled from another run in with Drakthe's taiger, she plopped down on a thick pile of sleeprugs spread beside the fire. "That animal of yours could use a lesson in manners, my lord."

  "He suits me." Drakthe leaned back on one elbow. He seemed more relaxed.

  "I can well believe that," she said with a decided touch of acerbity. "You both show a similar lack of understanding regarding the importance of manners."

  "Untrue, bondwife. We understand them, we just prefer not to follow them." His quick grin faded and he sobered. "Tell me everything you can remember Tanni or his father saying."

  "You do not believe he and the NaturPath went to another district, do you?"

  "No, I believe they came here, to the Plains of Skaen."

  "Did your discussion with the township elders lead you to that conclusion? Did they say something to make you wonder?"

  "No," he said slowly, "it was more what they didn't say. For a township with a missing NaturPath, the Elders were curiously unwilling to search for her. All they wanted to know was how soon I could arrange for someone to take her place."

  "Is that so unusual? The poor woman is dead."

  "Is she? I saw no body, I heard no chants to honor her passing, no herbs were burning, no chimes marked her way. You tell me, Cheyna, is she dead?"

  "She must be. Tanni said his father would not have returned alone unless she was dead."

  "Or unless something so terrified him he left her behind. You said yourself he was severely injured. Perhaps he had no choice but to leave without her." He dished up a platter of stew and handed it to her. Drakthe took a bite from his own plate and grimaced. Leaning to one side, he snagged the largest saddle bag. He put his plate down and began rummaging through it.

  "The townspeople were scared." He paused for a moment. "The Plains can do that sometimes. It takes a man and turns him inside out." He continued his search. "No one travels here unless it's necessary."

  "You do."

  "I get paid to do so."

  "To take chances so others can profit?"

  "To take chances so I can start my own House," he corrected. Drakthe grunted when he found what he was looking for. He tossed a silver packet near the heat of
the fire. He looked up in time to catch her shudder.

  "Don't worry, House-daughter, I won't insist on sharing."

  She swallowed, another shudder rippling through her. "How can you show such enthusiasm for something made from the dried eggs of fish?"

  "Easy. You just chew and swallow."

  Cheyna's throat worked convulsively at the image. Drakthe's laughter washed over her in a warm wave. The leaping, crackling flames lent a burnt umber glow to his hard features as he dug into the food like a starving man. She waited until they bedded down to ask what had been plaguing her for some time.

  "My lord...Drakthe? What was it like to grow up without a House?" She waited while he shifted until she was settled with her head on his shoulder, her face tucked in the hollow of his throat. He rubbed his cheek against hair. She was about to repeat her question when he responded.

  "What's the matter, House-daughter? Intrigued by all the sordid details you heard rumored at our bonding? Having second thoughts?"

  "No," she whispered, her throat aching at the pain and disillusion buried beneath the sarcastic words. "I just want to understand you."

  She felt the struggle going on inside Drakthe, his need to keep the protection of isolation battling with his need to share, to belong, if only for a moment. Cheyna released the breath she had not realized she was holding when he at last began to speak.

  "My first memory is of being knocked aside for daring to touch a Lady's tunic, and falling in the path of a Lord's vehicle. He never even slowed."

  "You were a small child. It's doubtful he ever saw you."

  "Oh, he saw me, all right. He looked right at me. I wasn't wearing a House badge. That was my first lesson. Without a House badge you were the first shoved aside, the first looked down upon, the first blamed. It was a lesson I learned well." A wealth of bitterness laced the dark voice.

  "You want to know what it was like growing up without a House? I'll tell you, House-daughter. You learn you don't belong anywhere. You learn you're not welcome into the meanest house because you are outside acceptable society. You learn that to survive, you have to fight. And not only to fight. You learn you have to be the best."