“No. I just believe in fate. Fate led me to you, didn’t she? And fate knew that you were just being an ass and you didn’t deserve to get a dagger in the ribs for it. A kick in the head maybe, but not a dagger in the ribs.”
“So in that line of thinking, does this mean fate isn’t letting you find your lucky—”
“There it is!”
She swung down out of her saddle and scooped up the dagger, holding it up triumphantly. “See! Fate!”
“Luck is more like it,” he mumbled.
“I heard that. Fate and luck are sometimes the same thing. Come on, let’s go back.”
“You know, the gods aren’t responsible for every little thing that happens to us. And even if they were, it wouldn’t be a good thing.”
She glanced over at him. “That’s a very jaded view of the gods. What’d they ever do to you?”
He grimaced but remained silent. She shrugged and followed him back to camp. By the time they returned the other men were up and about, clearing up the campsite.
“Where’ve you been?” Kilon asked, spitting on the ground as he slung his longbow across his body at an angle, his crossbow hitched onto his back with a quick release knot. He could pull the deadly weapon in a moment’s notice and Airi believed he wouldn’t think twice about using it—on a man as much as on an animal. Still, the archer would keep them fed as long as there was game to be found, and just because he was something of a jerk she couldn’t begrudge that fact. “Or do I need to ask,” he added with a lecherous leer of contempt. “I hope you plan on sharing the goods, slink.” He used the derogatory word for whore. “There’s more than one man here in need of servicing.”
“Kilon!” Maxum barked in warning.
Kilon let a moment of surprise flit across his features at Maxum’s tone, then he grew even darker and angrier, glaring at Airi.
“It’s not like she’s going to be good for anything else!”
“You’d be surprised at what I’m good for,” she said breezily, refusing to let him get to her.
“No, I wouldn’t. Women are only good for two things…and holding up a headstone’s the other one.” Kilon turned his back on her before she could get over her shock enough to reply. She shouldn’t be shocked really. She was used to men’s attitudes when it came to her capabilities. But like she had said to Kilon, it was surprising what she could do when her back was to a wall.
The group got under way shortly after that. She noticed that Doisy had a staff strapped to his saddle—the same staff she’d seen him with the day before. Since he didn’t walk with a limp, she didn’t think he used it for support. She suspected he could use it in very nonclerical ways. He was a handsome man overall, blond haired and blue eyed, always a smile toying with his lips. He came up and rode beside her when Maxum rode on ahead of them to scout.
“So, my lady, how fare you this fine day?”
She laughed. It had been raining at a drizzle for most of the morning.
“I am well, and I’m not ‘my lady.’ ”
“Ah, but all women are ‘my lady’ to me. I mean no offense by it, only that my sainted mother would never forgive me if I forgot my manners.”
“His mother was a whore,” Kilon barked.
“All women are whores to you, my friend,” Doisy said with a good-natured grin. He clearly didn’t pay any attention to Kilon’s surly temper and she decided that she wouldn’t either. Still, she wouldn’t turn her back on him. “So you are something of an accomplished thief, I take it.”
“Not so accomplished if I got caught.”
“Ah well, you just had the bad fortune to steal from the one man who could outthink the most learned scholar or the most devious thief in these lands and all the others.”
She preened. “Thank you. I do consider myself to be quite devious. Clever anyway.”
“I have no doubt.” He reached to take her free hand from the pommel of her saddle and leaned over to bring it to his lips. “No doubt on a better day you would even outthink Maxum.”
She laughed when Kilon made a disgusted sound. “No doubt,” she agreed, taking her hand back.
“Oh, for Hella’s left tit, you’re making me sick already,” Kilon said before springing his horse ahead and putting his back to them. Kyno came up on his mighty looking destrier and took the surly man’s place so they were riding three abreast again.
“So where you from, little one?” the giant man asked her.
“Here and there,” she answered vaguely. She didn’t much care to talk about herself when they were the more interesting ones. “What about you?”
“Same place,” Kyno said with a chuckle. The sound was deep and rolling, as if it were coming from a very low place in his belly.
“What about you, Doisy? Where are you from?”
“Koysis, a small town of no fame on the Red Continent. But we are known for making the most delicious breadcakes in the many kingdoms.”
“I love breadcakes! Can you make them?”
“Indeed I can, my lady. When next we avail ourselves of an inn I will buy supplies and ask the innkeeper to use his oven. I suspect if I offer to make enough to go ’round he won’t mind.”
“You would do that for me?” she asked, surprised.
“But of course. It is good for a man’s soul to please a lady.”
“Good for a lady’s soul too!” she quipped. They all laughed and she decided right then that she liked these two men very much. They were certainly better company than Kilon.
She looked over her shoulder to where Dru was pulling up the rear. The road became narrow a short while later and she took the opportunity to fall back and ride abreast of Dru.
“Hello,” she greeted him. Dru had been the only one to really converse with her the night before and she wondered at his silence today. “Are you well?”
“Very, I thank you.”
“You seem quiet.”
“I like to be sometimes. You hear more interesting things that way.”
“Very true,” she agreed with a smile. He returned the smile and she relaxed. “Do you know where we’re headed after Docking Bay?”
“I only know that we are going to the Isle of Thiss in the middle of the bay.”
“Thiss! Isn’t that…I heard there were weredragons on Thiss.”
“Mayhap there are. I’ve never been.”
“Why would he want to go to such a place?”
“I don’t question why as long as we come out of it with gold and our skins intact.”
“So you just blindly follow him? Why?”
“I don’t do it blindly, just with faith. His brother Garreth is one of the best men I know, and his brother Jaykun, who leads Weysa’s army, is one of the finest warriors around. With such a pedigree, can you blame me for trusting him?”
“Weysa’s army? I’ve heard of this army! It is supposed to be massive and is rolling through the lands defeating cities in Weysa’s name.”
“That would be the one,” Dru said with a nod.
“His brother leads that army?”
“He does indeed. And Garreth and Dethan, his youngest and eldest brothers respectively, also join the army in the summer turning. When the cold comes they return to the arms of their loving wives.”
“So Maxum has sisters by marriage?”
“Three in all. Each brother has found his love. Each is a most romantic tale—there is bardsong about them. In the army and elsewhere.”
“Oh, how nice,” she said. Then she gave a chuckle. “I wonder if Maxum is in any bardsong. Isn’t it true of all the great adventurers? And with such a famous brother surely—”
“I wouldn’t make jokes or tease about that if I were you,” he said hastily and almost harshly. “Maxum would not be amused.”
“But I was just—”
“Please. Do not…I don’t know why, but he doesn’t like bardsong. There was a bard at one of the inns we last went to and he was singing and something about it rubbed Maxum the wrong way. The bard ended up with a h
arp being cracked over his head. Needless to say…”
“Why do you suppose that is?”
“I wouldn’t hazard a guess. But perhaps there was some love lost to him. The song the bard was singing was one of the Songs of the Gods, but it was about a tragic love story between a mortal woman and Sabo, the god of pain and suffering. ‘Solange’s Secret.’ ”
“ ‘Solange’s Secret’?” she asked.
“The song is the story of a beautiful maiden named Solange who was sleeping in a meadow one day when Sabo came upon her and instantly fell in love with her. But when Solange awoke she was terrified to see the god in all his magnificence staring down at her. Sabo knew that she would never accept the cruel god of pain and suffering so he told her he was Mordu, the god of hope, love, and dreams. He told her that he was in love with her but she must keep their relationship a secret because his wife, Hella, the goddess of fate, would kill her instantly if she were to discover their love.
“So Solange kept her secret and met with her god lover every night from summer’s turntide to fall’s turntide. Then, one day, Solange could not keep her secret to herself any longer for she was with child. She begged Sabo to put his wife aside and take her to wife instead, to raise her up as a demigod so she could protect herself against Hella and so they might live their love in the open. He flatly refused of course.
“So Solange threw all caution to the wind and went to Kitari’s temple and prayed to the queen of the gods for her help. If anyone could keep Hella from harming her or her child it would be the queen of the gods. Solange prayed so long and so hard that at last she gained Kitari’s attention. That was when Kitari revealed to Solange that the god she was in love with was not Mordu but was in fact Sabo.
“Solange was so horrified by this that she went to the nearest cliff and threw herself down onto the rocky waters below. It was a tragic love story to be sure.”
“But what makes you think that was somehow related to Maxum having lost a love?”
“What other reason could there be?”
Honestly, she couldn’t think of one. And it wouldn’t surprise her to find out he had been in love and hurt by that love. He was a very beautiful man; handsome and rugged, with beautiful green eyes worthy of love sonnets and bardsongs. But it was hard to believe a woman not loving him in return or throwing him over for another man. True, she knew very little about him and he had acted like something of a bastard with her, but she could easily imagine him being worthy of some woman somewhere.
Perhaps she was being too kind. That really wasn’t like her to give someone the benefit of the doubt. She usually expected the worst of people until they proved otherwise. So far all he’d proved to her was that he could be an ass.
Although he was an ass with scruples. He hadn’t just handed her over to his men like a piece of clothing they all borrowed from one another.
Honestly she didn’t know what to make of him. She didn’t know what to make of any of them yet. The only one she was sure about was Kilon. Kilon was a mean bastard, end of story.
Maxum seemed to be more of a loner sort, the sort who would be happier with only his own company. So why so many men? Unless it was all about the money. That had to be it. Which told her just how lucrative Maxum’s ventures had been so far. Maybe five percent wouldn’t be so bad…but ten percent would certainly be better. She was going to have to make sure that she was indispensible. In some way that didn’t require her to take off her clothes and jump from bedroll to bedroll every night.
They reached Docking Bay just before sunset. Maxum led them to the nearest inn inside the city gate then immediately left them there. She didn’t see him again until some time later that night. She had eaten her fill of mutton chops and little potatoes and, thanks to Doisy, breadcakes that were out of this world. The men had all chosen to share a large room with two beds to sleep in, but there wasn’t a bed for her that didn’t require her to cozy up to Kilon. Doisy was sharing some woman’s bed and Dru was sleeping with Kyno. That left her downstairs in the common room waiting for Maxum to return.
She was dozing off in her seat in the corner of the room when he came in at last. This time when she saw the bruises on his face there was no denying it. They were livid and purple and she sat up straight and looked at him with shock written clearly in her eyes.
“Got into a fight,” he slurred.
“I can see that. Where?”
“At an inn.”
“You went to another inn and got drunk and got into a fight? What was wrong with this inn where your friends are to back you up?”
“Don’t need any backup.” He stumbled toward her and she leapt up and levered herself under his arm, holding up a little more of his weight than she could comfortably bear.
“All right, let’s get you to bed,” she said, hauling him toward the innkeeper. “I need a couple of rooms.”
“Only got one,” the innkeeper said.
Airi rolled her eyes and sighed. “We’ll take it.”
“Coin,” the keep said gruffly.
The men had brought all their belongings in, including Maxum’s saddlebags. Any coin he might have in them was up in the room with them. With a grumble she began to pat down Maxum’s pockets until she felt one with a hard circle within it. Triumphantly she pulled out a gold sovereign.
“What am I supposed to do with this? It only costs two silver for the room. I ain’ got change like this!”
“Keep it until the morning then we’ll give you your two silver and you can give us the sovereign back. This way you know you’ll get paid and if we don’t give you your silver you can keep the rest.”
The innkeeper fondled the coin. “All right. But it’s two silver for the room and another for the meal you ate.”
“A whole silver for that? We made the breadcakes!”
“With my flour!”
“Very well then! You’ll get your silver. Now which room?”
“Up the stairs, end of the row.”
It was a fairly nice inn overall, and the room didn’t really disappoint. The bed linens were clean anyway and the bed was almost long enough to accommodate a man of Maxum’s height and build. She led him to it and dropped him onto it. She rolled the drunken sot onto his back and pulled one boot off. When she did the same to the other he growled as if he were in pain. He must have gotten beaten pretty bad, she thought. As she undressed him she saw he was covered in ugly, vivid bruises of every deep color of the rainbow. It looked painful and by the sounds he made as she stripped him of his shirt and pants, it was. Finally he was left in only his drawers, which were briefly cut unlike most which went to the knee. It was funny because she wore hers the same way, had made them special herself. Oh, she had long woolen drawers she wore in winter, but for every other time…it just seemed to make it more comfortable, easier to move. Clearly he felt the same way. It also meant there was very little left to the imagination. She was seeing him as good as naked—and what a fine sight it was. The man was big—not gigantic like Kyno, not even bulky really. But tall and oh so very muscular. It was obvious he swung a sword for a living. There wasn’t a single stone of fat on him. He had to weigh in at about 175 rocks, maybe 190. She wasn’t good at guessing. But it was all muscle. From the thickness of his thighs to the bulging of his upper arms, he was an incredible example of a man in his prime…except for all the fresh bruises. Damn it, what kind of idiot goes out spoiling for a fight? Between this and the story about the bard she wondered if he made a habit of beating up on people. Was he a bully? Or just a drunken idiot?
She opted for the latter. Kilon was the bullying sort; she didn’t get that sense from Maxum. Of course it wouldn’t be the first time she’d read a man all wrong. For instance, she hadn’t thought he would engage in this kind of stupidity. He had struck her as a man who wanted to be in control of himself and his surroundings at all times. This simply didn’t fit her picture of him.
Clearly she was reading him wrong.
Left with no other c
hoice, she kicked off her boots and stripped off her vest. She hesitated, but then heard a soft, rumbly snore. Shrugging, she stripped off her pants and shirt. She unbound her breasts for the first time since the night before last when she’d had a bath in an obliging stream and sighed with relief. Then she quickly put her shirt back on, letting the tails cover her to the tops of her thighs. Hesitating only slightly she then climbed into bed beside him. She would wake up early tomorrow and be out of bed and dressed before he woke from his drunken slumber. She judiciously kept to the far side of the bed.
It wasn’t long before she fell asleep.
Maxum, however, was very much awake when she did. He rolled over onto his side, bringing himself closer to her. He could feel the sheer heat radiating off her and he found it to be all too compelling.
When he had walked into the inn and seen her sitting there wide awake and waiting for him he’d quickly acted as though he were drunk and had been in a fight to explain his physical state. He hadn’t expected her to be there and he cursed his companions for being the idiots they were and not providing her with a place to sleep in his absence. He would have at least thought Doisy would have been thoughtful enough to see to it, but knowing Doisy, he was no doubt sleeping comfortably in a woman’s bed with his head nestled on her soft breasts.
And here he was, with a lovely pair of soft breasts nearby as well, and yet his head was a far, far cry from resting upon them.
He let his eyes travel over her in the darkness and wished she had not blown out the lantern before getting in bed so that he could see her better. And yet he had seen her well enough as he had feigned his sleeping state and watched through slitted eyes as she had unbound her beautiful breasts.
He hated that she restricted herself in such a way. To what purpose? It was easy to tell she was a woman. What did it matter if she showed her breasts in their natural state? While they were in town he was determined to find her something else to wear, something that enhanced her figure and yet protected her. What he needed was to find an armorer who specialized in women’s armor. Not an easy task to be sure, but being a port of trade, Docking Bay was sure to have someone somewhere who could suit his needs.