The Golden Barbarian

  Tess’s hands closed on the arms of the chair with white-knuckled force as she strained to listen. She could hear nothing. Had Tamar drunk the wine? Was she safe?

  Then she heard unsteady footsteps on the stone staircase. Not safe yet. Her gaze wandered frantically around the room.

  The silver pitcher on the table looked heavy enough to use as a weapon.

  Tamar flung open the door and staggered into the chamber.

  “You didn’t knock,” Tess said as she forced her hands to release their grip on the arms of the chair. “These discourtesies must cease.” She stood up and moved swiftly toward the table that held the silver pitcher. “And you didn’t bring me the stew you promised.”

  “All gone. The wine too.” Tamar’s words were slightly slurred, his eyes fastened malevolently on her. “My men found it a curiously heady brew. I found myself wondering why.…” He lurched toward her. “I asked myself, now why should they have grown drowsy and thickheaded so soon when they’re used to much stronger draughts?”

  Tess’s shoulders tensed as she kept her back to him. If she could only reach the pitcher. “It was a very good wine. Anyone could see why—” She broke off as Tamar’s hands fell on her shoulders and jerked her around to face him.

  “What was in it?”

  “I don’t know what you mean. Please release—”

  She gasped as Tamar’s hands tightened with agonizing force on her shoulders.

  “What? Poison?”

  The pressure increased until she had to bite her lower lip to keep from screaming.

  “What?”

  “Laudanum.”

  “Much?”

  “I don’t … know. As much as I could find in the encampment.”

  “And you played the stupid highborn bitch to lure me into believing you too witless to sting me.” His face was twisted with rage as his hands moved from her shoulders to her throat. “Whore!”

  Tamar killed one of the whores in a drunken rage. He strangled her.

  For an instant Tess imagined she could hear that poor strumpet’s scream echoing from the walls of the room. Was she going to die here as well?

  “Do you think I need you?” Tamar asked softly, his hands slowly tightening on her throat. “Your death will serve me as well. Galen cannot ignore the murder of his wife, even if he cares nothing for you. I thought to play a little with you, but you’ve been too clever.”

  His grip was cutting off her air. She reached blindly behind her to grasp the silver pitcher, but before she could reach it, he swung her away from the table. Her hands flew frantically to her throat, trying to pry his fingers away.

  Pain!

  She could feel the blood pounding in her ears, exploding in her temples.

  Her knees gave way, sagged. Tamar was holding her upright only by the merciless grip on her throat.

  She didn’t hear the door open or Galen’s shout, but Tamar did.

  His grip loosened, but he still grasped her throat as he turned toward the door, dragging her with him.

  Galen. Sacha.

  “Let her go, Tamar.” Galen’s eyes glittered as savagely as Tamar’s in the light of the candles.

  He’s my mirror. He’s what I could be.…

  Tamar cursed, released her throat, but struck her a vicious blow on the cheek that sent her reeling. He reached for the dagger at his belt.

  “No!” Galen sprang forward across the chamber.

  Galen’s expression … Something was there that she had waited for. Something was there.…

  But he was moving too slowly. Tamar already had his dagger in hand and was turning toward her.

  Galen was going to be too late!

  She was going to die.

  No, not now. Not when she knew Galen—

  Candlelight gleamed on the lifted blade of the knife.

  She felt herself falling into darkness.

  Chapter 12

  Galen’s strong arms were carrying her. She heard the click of his boot heels on stone.

  “Don’t”—her throat hurt terribly as she forced the words out—“let me die.”

  “Hush, Tess.” Galen’s voice broke on the words. “Don’t talk.”

  She opened her eyes to look up at his pale face. Didn’t he understand? She had to tell him how important it was that she live and they be together. “It’s important.…”

  Cool air on her face, the glare of a hundred torches from the El Zalan riders waiting on horseback outside the tower.

  Galen said hoarsely, “You’re not going to die.”

  She was shifted to someone else’s arms as Galen mounted Selik.

  Sacha’s arms, she identified, as she gazed up into his familiar blue eyes. “Tell him—”

  “Don’t be stubborn, imp,” Sacha interrupted impatiently. “You’ve put us through quite enough without wringing our emotions with that wisp of a frog’s croak.”

  Comfort flooded through her. Even Sacha wouldn’t call her a frog if she were a dying woman. “Not my fault,” she said with as much indignation as her lack of volume permitted. “I … couldn’t do everything.”

  Sacha smiled down at her. “You certainly tried. Drugging Tamar’s men, sending the message. You left us deplorably little scope for heroism. I suppose we should thank you for leaving Tamar to us.”

  “Didn’t reach the pitcher in time.”

  “Give her to me,” Galen said.

  She was being transferred to Galen’s arms again, wrapped in a cloak and held close. “I did do very well.”

  “Splendidly.” Galen pulled the cloak closer and settled her comfortably across the saddle. “Now, go to sleep and let us do the rest.”

  “Tamar?”

  She felt Galen’s muscles tense against her. “Dead.”

  A broken mirror … No, that wasn’t right. She had to tell Galen how wrong he had been. “Twisted. Not like you.”

  “Shh.” He pressed her cheek into the hollow of his shoulder as he turned Selik and raised his arm to signal to the men behind him. “You can talk later.”

  A moment later the rhythm of Selik’s gait began to lull her to drowsiness. She breathed in the scent of dew-wet grass, leather, and lemon. “We should—talk. There’s much to say.”

  “Later.”

  Yes, it could all wait. Now that she had seen his face in that revealing moment, she could wait for the rest.

  She nestled closer. “Later.”

  Sunlight was streaming into her chamber at the palace, and Viane was sitting in a chair next to the divan when Tess woke several hours later.

  Viane’s features were taut with strain as she leaned over to clasp Tess’s hand with her own. “Do not try to talk.”

  Tess’s hand went to her throat, flinching as she touched the bruised flesh. “Hurts.”

  “There are terrible bruises,” Viane whispered. “I am so sorry. It is my fault—”

  “Nonsense.” Tess sat up and threw off the sheet. Dear heaven, she sounded like a squawking crow. “How could it be your fault? It was Tamar who choked me. Where is Galen?”

  “He just left you. He’s been sitting here all night.”

  That seemed an excellent sign to Tess, and added to what she had seen in his expression last night …

  “I want to see him.” She stood up, swayed, and then steadied on her feet. “Will you help me dress?”

  “You should rest.” Viane frowned. “Besides, he can’t see you. He’s just received word that the Tamrovian party has been sighted a mile from the city gates.”

  Her father! Sweet Mary, she had almost forgotten this new threat on the horizon. Yet she found to her surprise that the news didn’t bring the same fear it had when she had first heard he was coming. After facing Tamar, she found the threat posed by her father dwindled. “Is Galen in his chamber?”

  Viane nodded. “Why can’t you wait? Kalim is still outside in the hall. You can send a message to—”

  “I hate to wait. I want to go myself.” Tess’s brows lifted. “Kalim has been ou
tside all night too?”

  Viane flushed and nodded. “He’s been very kind, but he will not leave me. He seems to think he’s done something unforgivable.”

  I would die for her, Kalim had said.

  “I’m sure Sacha would have been equally—” Tess stopped and shook her head. The words felt wrong, somehow. She must think this through at a later time.

  “And Galen will not forgive. He’s very angry at Kalim for letting you be put in Tamar’s hands.”

  “It wasn’t Kalim’s fault. I’ll talk to Galen about it later.” But not now, she was too impatient to put her own life in order. “Come, I want words with Galen before my father arrives.” She moved across the chamber toward the dressing room. “I’ll wear the emerald-green gown. While I wash and dress, will you choose a beautiful scarf to go around my neck and hide these bruises?”

  She must try to speak normally as well. Galen must not be influenced by pity. Whatever his decision, whatever he told her, it must come from his heart.

  “Go back to your chamber.” Galen frowned as soon as she walked in his chamber. “Better still, go back to bed.”

  “Why? I belong here.” Tess closed the door behind her and looked at him. “And I find bed very boring when interesting things are happening elsewhere.”

  For an instant a glimmer of humor eased the grimness of his expression. “I’ve noted you’re not overcome with ennui when interesting things are also happening in bed.” His smile faded. “I don’t want you here when your father arrives. You’ve fought enough battles.”

  “But this is mine also. Where is my father?”

  “He should be here soon. Sacha rode put to meet him and bring him to the palace.”

  “Then we’ll wait together.” She smiled at him. “I must be here to defend myself. After all, I’m only a helpless woman. How will I know you won’t hand me over to him?”

  “Helpless woman? You jest. All of the El Zalan are talking of how you arranged Tamar’s capture.” He frowned. “And I told you I wouldn’t—Why are you laughing?”

  “I feel like laughing, I’m very happy.” She moved across the room to stand before him. “Tell me, Galen, now that Tamar is dead, the threat to the alliance is much less, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you don’t really need me any longer to secure the unity?”

  He stiffened. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then say it. Give me the truth.”

  His lips tightened. “No.”

  She smiled. “Then I’m free. After my father leaves, I will go to France. You will furnish an escort, of course?”

  “No!” Galen’s hands closed on her shoulders as he glared down at her. “You promised me—”

  “A child? But you don’t need a child now.”

  “I do need a child.”

  “Not for the unity.”

  “No, but I … need that child.”

  “But you promised you’d release me when I was no longer needed for unity. Would you break your promise?”

  “I told you … I need you.”

  “It’s the act of a barbarian to break his word,” Tess said softly. “Aren’t you going to be civilized about this, Galen?”

  His expression was tormented as his hands tightened on her shoulders. “No! I don’t care if—You stay!”

  “How long?”

  “Forever!” The word exploded from him with such violence it reverberated around the room.

  She beamed up at him. “Excellent.” She hurled herself into his arms. “I feared you would make me ask you to let me stay, which would have been most undignified.”

  He stiffened in shock and pushed her away from him. “You wish to stay? Lord, I hope you know what you’re saying.” His big hands were unsteady as they cupped her cheeks and tilted her head so that he could look down into her face. “For I cannot let you go,” he said hoarsely. “Even if it means keeping you here by force, as my father did my mother.” He closed his eyes. “Dear God, what does that make me?”

  “The man I love,” she said simply. “And if God is good, the man who loves me.”

  His lids opened to reveal glittering eyes. “Oh yes,” he said thickly. “I think I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you clinging to Apollo in that damn bog.”

  “That’s most encouraging, considering I was dripping green slime and stank atrociously.” She hurled herself back into his arms and buried her face in his chest. “It was as well we got the worse over at once. After you saw me like that, I was bound to appear to advantage in any other situation.”

  “Last night wasn’t an improvement.” His arms tightened around her. “White and still—your throat.” He buried his face in her hair. “I swore if God let you live, I would let you go, but when I saw you walk into this chamber today.…” He whispered, “I would have risked my salvation to keep you. I’m every bit the barbarian my father was.”

  “No.” She pulled back to look up at him. “You’re not your father, and you’re not Tamar. You may be a barbarian, but if you are, I love that in you as well as all your other qualities.” Her brow wrinkled as she searched for words. “Can’t you see? We are what we are. I am too impulsive and blunt, and I like my own way very much indeed. Do you love me less for what I am?”

  “No.” A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Though I earnestly hope we can modify your impulsiveness in the future.”

  “It may never happen, as you may die still being a bit of a barbarian. It’s the struggle to be better that counts, and we’ll go through life doing that together.” She hugged him with all her strength. “I think it will prove very interesting.”

  “Even if I can’t promise you the freedom you wish here in Sedikhan?”

  “You’ll give me what you can, and the rest will be my battle.” Her jaw set determinedly. “And that will be interesting, too, don’t you think?”

  He gave a mock shiver. “Dear God, what fate awaits us all? Poor Hakim.”

  “He deserves it.” She waved an airy hand. “And so do the rest of you.”

  He threw back his head and laughed, his expression suddenly joyously boyish. “Poor Galen.”

  “No.” She stood on tiptoe to brush a loving kiss on his lips. “I’ll protect and love you forever and ever. You’ll have no chance to pity yourself.”

  “Forever and ever,” he repeated, his gaze holding her own.

  It was a vow, and the knowledge filled her with such exhilaration, she felt as if she were going to explode into a million sunlit splinters of joy. “I could almost be grateful to Tamar, if he made you realize you loved me.”

  “I realized before last night. I knew when you fell off Pavda during the race and I thought you dead.”

  “I didn’t fall off Pavda. You know I purposely—” She frowned. “You did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t intend to leave me?”

  “The bargain. I was afraid that—”

  “So was I.” As he saw her eyes widen with surprise, he continued in a low voice, “I’ve never been more afraid in my life. I couldn’t believe you wouldn’t leave me, if I didn’t force you to stay.”

  As his mother had tried to leave him.

  “I’ll never leave you.” She gave him a quick, loving kiss and then backed away from him. “That’s all I wanted to say. Now, I’ll sit down in the chair over there and be very meek and let you and my father have your discussion about—Stop laughing.” But the next moment she was laughing too. “Well, truly I’ll try to keep silent.”

  They broke off as Sacha strode into the chamber without knocking.

  “What the devil is wrong, Sacha?”

  Tess turned to face her cousin and instantly realized what had prompted Galen’s question. Sacha’s face was pale, his expression dazed. She asked quickly, “What did he say? Was he very angry with you?”

  “Who?”

  She looked at him, puzzled. “My father.”

  “Axel?” Sacha shook his head. “I don’t
know whether he is or not. He’s not here.”

  She looked at him, stunned. “Not here? Did he send an envoy then?”

  “Yes, an envoy. Axel couldn’t leave Tamrovia at the moment.”

  “Sacha, what the hell is wrong with you?” Galen asked.

  His roughness jarred Sacha from his abstraction. “They’re dead. They’re both dead.”

  “Who?”

  “My father and my brother. They were both drowned. Their boat overturned on the river Zandor, and they were swept away by the rapids before anyone could reach them. It happened two days after I left Tamrovia. Axel is acting regent.” He lifted his head to look at them. “Regent for me in my absence. I’m now the king of Tamrovia.” He suddenly started to laugh. “Dear God, isn’t that ridiculous? Me!”

  “You’re sure?” Galen asked.

  “Count Mazlek assures me both the court and the populace are eagerly awaiting my arrival in Belajo.” He smiled bitterly. “It’s the first time anyone has ever showed any eagerness to see me at court.” He paused. “I suppose I should feel sorry they’re dead, shouldn’t I?” He shrugged. “I refuse to be a hypocrite. I had neither respect nor liking for either of them in life, and I will not grieve for them in death.”

  “What now?” Tess asked.

  Sacha looked at her blankly. “I suppose I have to return to Tamrovia at once.” He stood up and moved toward the door. “I’ll have to order my valises packed.” He didn’t look at her as he opened the door. “I’ll also order your maid to pack your trunks, Tess. I’ll meet you in the courtyard in four hours.”

  She stiffened. “Mine?”

  His expression was stern as he glanced back over his shoulder. “Well, as king of Tamrovia, it’s my duty to assure your marriage to Tamrovian aristocracy.”

  Her eyes widened. “Sacha!”

  His light eyes were as icy as his tone as he said, “I’m sorry, but the deaths in the royal family dictate the family line must be strengthened. This marriage will be dissolved, and within the year we’ll have you wed to a nobleman of the realm.”

  “What!” Tess felt Galen’s arm slide protectively around her waist.

  “Well, we can’t have a Tamrovian royal princess married to a barbarian sheikh like—” Sacha broke off, dissolving in laughter. “Dear heaven, your face, imp!” He collapsed back against the door, his entire body shaking with laughter. “You believed me!”