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Dasen woke with a start but could not remember what visions had roused him. He searched the small, dim barn with bleary eyes and realized that there was a soft pressure on him. Still half-asleep, he looked down and found Teth’s head resting on his chest, arm draped across his belly, leg sprawled over his.
His first thought was to wrap his arms around her and go back to sleep, but her very presence, the sensation of her body, soft skin and firm muscle, touching his so intimately in so many places had sent his heart racing. He was suddenly breathing in pants, smelling the musky sweetness of her hair with each one, and growing aroused in a way that would be unmistakable should Teth wake up and look down. Nonetheless, he allowed his fantasies to take flight, imagined Teth waking, looking up at him, kissing him, moving fully on top of him, and everything that might follow. When he finally broke the fantasy, he was almost shaking and very uncomfortable.
If Teth wakes up now, sees me like this, she’ll either skin me, laugh at me, or give me exactly what I want. He wasn’t sure he could handle any of those outcomes, so he slowly lifted her arm off of his chest and, with the greatest of care, rolled her off of him. He held her head up off of his chest and gently placed it in the hay at his side so that she was lying on her back with the deep straw surrounding her. She shifted slightly as she was repositioned but, after some incomprehensible mumbling, rolled onto her other side and returned to sleep.
With a sigh, Dasen worked his way to the edge of the loft. Only the dimmest beams of dusty light shone through the rough-hewn walls, suggesting that it was still early. The morning was cool, and a light dew covered everything, giving the world a feeling of purity as if all the corruption had been scoured away and life was waking anew. He took a deep breath of sweet, musty hay, reveled in the goodness of that smell, then climbed down the long ladder.
He paced around the inside the barn to eliminate some of the stiffness that remained in his legs and back. He was still decidedly sore, but it almost seemed normal now, not debilitating. As he walked, he inspected the barn, hoping for some scraps of food that the invaders might have missed. Finding nothing, he cautiously opened the door. After watching the dawn streaked yard and grey sky for several minutes, he exited and, following a much needed trip to the outhouse, searched the other buildings.
The invaders had been very thorough in their sacking, but his search did not go unrewarded. He started with the house, which provided a new shirt and pants. The shirt still itched, the sleeves were too short, and it smelled of another man’s work, but it was better than the sweaty, mud-crusted rag he had been wearing. The pants were hearty canvas, much better suited for trekking through the forest, and less likely to make him stand out. Though they hung around his waist, his belt cinched them to his hips. Before putting them on, he drew water from the well and used a rag to rub away most of the dirt and salt that encompassed his body. He dampened his hair and tied it back into a greasy tail with a thong of leather, took a long drink, then donned the wide-brimmed leather hat he found on the ground nearby – it fit perfectly.
Finally he turned to the other buildings. In the chicken coup, he found two eggs buried in the straw. Hanging on a nail in the wagon shed was an old wooden bottle with a stout cork that he filled with water. The stable provided a feedbag with a couple of handfuls of oat lingering in its bottom and a pitchfork with only a single remaining tine. But most exciting of all was a short barrel half-full of arrows that had been forgotten in the back of a shed.
Having gathered his bounty, Dasen returned to the barn. There was no sign yet that Teth was awake, so he laid everything out and began sorting the arrows – some of them were warped and almost all were rusty. So intent was his inspection, that he didn’t hear the footsteps until they were on top of him.
“Gotcha!” a voice announced. Hands grabbed at his ribs as he spun around in surprise. Heart leaping from his chest, he managed to grab an arrow before he lost his footing and ended on his seat. Recovering, he held up the arrow only to find its point looking back at him. He flipped it around, but the only thing there to protect himself against was an impish giggle.
"You need to be more observant of what is happening around you.” Teth spared him a sly smile. “I was quiet, but I wasn’t that quiet.”
Dasen let out his breath in a great rush and shook the arrow at her. “Good morning to you too.” He held out his hands to her, and she helped him to his feet. “While you have been catching up on your beauty sleep – a commodity you have obviously been lacking – I have been gathering supplies."
That earned him a shot to the arm that left him rubbing the muscle there. Teth followed it by looking around him at the arrows. Her face lit. “You found arrows! That’s better than a horse. Where did you find them?”
Dasen told her of his search while she bent to inspect the treasure. “These are all pretty old,” she admonished as she threw several of the warped shafts to the side. “I can see why they were forgotten.” She sifted through the pile with all the care of a jeweler inspecting pieces brought in for hock. “Did you say you found oats? Can you find a bowl and start them soaking in some water? Just enough to cover them, okay?”
With a sigh, Dasen did as he was told.
By the time he returned, she had sorted through nearly a hundred arrows and found only eight worthy of her quiver. “You don’t want any more than that?” he asked feeling personally offended, as if they were his arrows that she had rejected.
“I’d love more than that, but the shafts are so warped that I couldn’t hit a bear at five paces with them. Even these are questionable. Better than nothing I suppose.” She looked up at him and smiled, cracked lips splitting mud streaked cheeks. “You cleaned up and got new clothes. That doesn’t seem fair.”
“The well’s right out there. Nobody is stopping you from doing the same. Or do you like looking like a dirt farmer on a rainy day?”
Teth stuck her tongue out and pushed past him. “Here’s the flint and my knife. Can you start a fire without burning down the barn?” Dasen barely caught the small rock and sheathed knife as Teth backed out the door. “And no looking.” She disappeared through the barn door a second later but left it open just enough for Dasen to have a view of the well – if he positioned himself in just the right place.
He worked on casting sparks into a bed of hay while Teth searched the house for clothes. Then, terrified but unable to resist, he watched as she stripped. Her back was to him, bottom half blocked by the well, so that he could not see anything beyond the expanse of her broad, muscular back, the barest outline of a small breast, the very top curve of her rear. Then he felt his knee getting hot. He looked down and found fire surging a foot from the ground, charring his knee, which was balanced above it. Moving back quickly and patting the knee, he nearly kicked the burning hay across the barn. When he had enough of his senses to realize what was happening, he cleared the area around the fire and started adding the rejected arrows to keep the nascent flame alive.
“So did you like the show?” Teth strode through the door, looking bright and fresh. Her hair was plastered to her head, cheeks red from scrubbing, skin clean and pale. She wore a clean shirt and pants almost identical to the one she’d had on before. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled, the neck laced tight to conceal the cloth she had wrapped around her chest.
Dasen stammered at the accusation and felt the blood rise in his face.
“You did watch, you bastard,” Teth admonished and kicked him in the side of the leg.
“I . . . I didn’t. I mean . . . I didn’t see anything. It was just . . . the door was open, and I . . . I mean. I promise I didn’t see anything.” Dasen rose to his feet and sputtered, hands out defensively as Teth closed on him. Then he realized that she was smiling. The freckles along her nose seemed to have multiplied with the disappearance of the dirt, running all the way to her cheeks where they met the tiny dimples that h
er mischievous smile exposed. Dasen backed up until he hit one of the beams that supported the loft.
Teth continued to close on him with that nymph’s grin. “I asked you a question,” she said as she closed the distance. “Did you like what you saw?”
Dasen stammered. “I . . . well . . . you know I didn’t see . . . .”
That was as far as he got. Teth grabbed his head, rose to her toes, and kissed him. It was a longer kiss this time, harder, and they were certainly getting better at it. Then she lingered, standing on her toes, nose touching his, until he thought his heart might burst from his chest. “I wished you had stayed with me in the loft,” she whispered. “I was disappointed when I saw you were already gone.” Then she kissed him again.
When she stepped away and walked to the fire as if nothing unusual had happened, Dasen cleared his throat, swallowed for air, and tried to gather his thoughts. “What has gotten into you today?” The question slipped out before he had a chance to stop himself. He instantly wanted it back.
Teth only smiled. “I had good dreams.”
Chapter 26