Dagger-Star

  “Oh?” Bethral asked casually. “Is that what Josiah is thinking about?”

  Red grinned. “You might want to sleep here, so you can take care of your purchase, eh? Josiah and I can sleep in the barn.”

  Bethral gave her a look, which Red ignored, choosing instead to stuff her face. “How very considerate of you,” Bethral said.

  Red swallowed. “I thought so.” She took another bite.

  “So, we’re staying?” Bethral asked quietly.

  The mischief faded from Red’s face. She gave Bethral a solemn look. “There’s adventure and profit to be had here, Bethral. But it’s not without its risks.”

  “The greater the risk, the greater the reward.” Bethral nodded her approval.

  Red nodded back, then looked about the hut. “Any ale left?”

  Bethral reached to fill her a mug. “If he needs to think, why are you in such a rush?”

  Red’s eyes danced. “Don’t want him thinking overmuch. He’ll just get confused.”

  TWELVE

  JOSIAH knelt at the hearth in the foaling room and stared at the cold ashes without really seeing them. He was still seeing Red’s face when she’d…

  So what will it be? Your dream of restoring this land? Or your virtue?

  Josiah snorted softly. That woman was so different from any he’d known. She was like a force of nature, sweeping in with no regard for others, or decorum, or normal courtesy.

  Lord of Light, he wanted her. His entire body thrummed at the idea. He was afraid of what that implied—afraid to trust her.

  Snowdrop stuck her head in the door and bleated at him. Josiah looked back as all the goats followed, pushing through to explore the room. “Don’t touch her gear,” Josiah cautioned, as Brownie stuck his nose in the saddlebags. “I wouldn’t put it past her to gut you for it.”

  Brownie pulled his nose back, grumbling.

  Josiah turned back to the hearth and pulled kindling from the wood box, concentrating on his task. But the thought of Red filled his mind as he prepared to start a fire.

  Maybe not so much like a storm, or a whirlwind. She was more like water, clear and cold. Crystal when still, then a raging torrent that swept everything in its path. A cool stream one moment, a flash flood the next. Water that slowly but surely filled all the hollow spaces in….

  His hands stilled then, as guilt bore down on him. Staring at the kindling, he ran his thumb over the grain of the wood, feeling the roughness against his skin.

  This was a mistake. He knew it was, that it could only end in pain. She’d win the throne or die trying, of that he was sure. If she won through, she’d go to Edenrich and sit on the throne as Queen, leading the kingdom to a bright future.

  Leaving him in the ruins of the past.

  He’d thought that was all that was left to him. But, may the Gods forgive him, he wanted her. He had but to close his eyes, and there she was, naked in the firelight, covered with soap, those red gloves her only clothing. He swallowed hard, trying to control his response.

  Snowdrop butted his arm and pushed her head under his hand, looking to have her ears scratched. Josiah sighed, and obliged her. She flicked her ears in pleasure and settled at his side.

  Josiah reached for the flint and tinder kept in the wood box, and returned to his task. The flint struck the steel, and sparks flew into the bits of thin wood and straw. A wisp of smoke started to lift as he blew gingerly. Josiah carefully fed more fuel to the tiny spark.

  Red wasn’t like the women he’d known before. Court women, interested in political advancement for their families through marriage, the farm women who labored with their husbands on his lands, the other mages that he’d known through the Guild. He’d had liaisons before, but only one that he’d thought was serious.

  Who’d betrayed him, in the end.

  Pain lanced through him. He’d trusted Elanore, and she’d betrayed him and the other High Barons.

  There was something in Red’s eyes, something honest. Her offer held no hidden depths. No commitment, no entanglement, no relationship. It was pure sex between two consenting adults, and no harm done.

  The flames leapt up now, greedy and hungry, and he fed them a few large pieces of wood to chew on. Kavage butted his back, demanding attention, so Josiah sat on the edge of one of the bunks, and gave each goat its due. He relaxed as he murmured to them, stopping once in a while to add more wood to the fire.

  When five goat heads turned toward the door, Josiah lifted his head and listened carefully. It sounded like Red was bringing the horses in for the night. He shifted, uneasy, and the goats stood up to mill about the room. But before he could do more, the door opened, and she was inside.

  She met Josiah’s eyes straight on, her own eyes sparkling. She smiled at him, a smile filled with anticipation.

  At least until she saw the goats.

  “Oh, no.” Red shook her head. “No goats. Shoo! Shoo!”

  She waved her hands, and waded into their midst to herd them out. But the goats would have none of that. They danced around, evaded her and the doorway at the same time, complaining bitterly.

  “Out, you mangy beasts!” Red demanded. “Out, out, I say!”

  The goats ignored her, darting this way and that, bleating their protests.

  Josiah burst out with a laugh in spite of himself. The fierce warrior, defeated by goats. He choked it off, sure she’d be offended.

  Red’s head whipped around to stare at him, but then she smiled. “You could help, you know.”

  Josiah stood, and between the two of them, they managed to get the goats into their stall for the night.

  Josiah followed Red back into the foaling room, and closed the door. “You told Bethral?” He turned around. “That we would be sleeping—”

  Red claimed his mouth with her own.

  JOSIAH’s face came alive when he laughed at her and the goats.

  Red caught her breath as his eyes changed. The tilt of his head, the light in his eyes, his joy at her predicament. The sparkle in his voice as he laughed right out loud.

  It was gone in an instant, replaced with the closed look that he usually wore. The pain had been chased away for only a breath or two. But she’d managed to banish that look, if only for a moment.

  The thrice-damned goats were a handful, and it took both of them to herd them out and down to their stall. No way was Red having witnesses to this night, be they human or goat or powers that be. She’d plans for the evening.

  One of which was not to give Josiah a moment to think.

  He’d said just a few words before she made her move, but it was enough. His lips were warm and dry under hers, and tentative in their response. But she pressed herself against him, pushing him against the door, eager to explore, to taste. He was just as eager, warm and solid, and smelled faintly of marjoram.

  She’d surprised him, but Josiah’s arms came up to hold her, and she made her appreciation known with a soft moan, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  He broke the kiss, moving his mouth to her neck, to trail kisses down to the bit of neckline revealed by her tunic. She moved her head to the side, giving him access, letting her own lips explore the soft skin behind his ear. The tingling sensation of his touch went right down her spine.

  Red eased back, still in the circle of his arms, and started tugging at his tunic. He nuzzled her neck, burying his face in her hair. Her hands on his hips, she could feel the heat of his body through her gloves.

  She placed her leg between his with calculated design, feeling his body respond when she brushed against him. He sucked in a breath, and she felt his chest heave as his arms drew her tighter.

  She pressed in a bit more, then thrust against him slowly. His eyes went dark before they closed and he lowered his head to her shoulder. She started a gentle rhythm with her hips, and placed her lips to his ear. “Surrender to me, Josiah.”

  “I—” Josiah’s face contorted, his voice a rasp. “What about—”

  Red chuckled, as sh
e moved her hips faster. “You first, lover.” She moved her mouth to the soft skin below his ear. She set her teeth in his skin and bit down, sucking at his flesh.

  Josiah threw his head back and shuddered, his entire body convulsing against her. The door creaked as Red kept him upright, pressing him into the wood. She chuckled softly as he looked at her with eyes clouded with passion.

  “You”—he licked his lips—“I should—”

  Red smiled, and leaned in to brush her lips against his. “We’ve all night, lover.”

  She tugged him away from the door, using his tunic. Josiah followed, his eyes fogged with something far more satisfying than pain.

  JOSIAH couldn’t help but stare at Red as she eased him down onto the bunk. She knelt on the floor before him, and carefully finished removing his tunic. He shivered slightly as the rough fabric rasped over his shoulders. She gave him a half-lidded look, with a soft smile. “Warm enough?” she whispered.

  He nodded, silent, unable to even voice the words. The fire had grown now, and her skin glowed in its light. Josiah was fair certain that the heat came more from her than from the flames.

  Her gloved hands moved below the waist of his trous. She tugged, and he obliged, lifting enough that she could remove the rest of his clothing.

  “Lie back,” she urged. “I want to see you.”

  Josiah moved back to stretch full length on the rough wool blanket that covered the bunk. “Not much to see,” he said, considering his flaccidness with a rueful eye. “I’m—”

  “Five years alone, Josiah.” Red shrugged as she hung her sword belt over the end of the bunk, well within reach. “Not unexpected.”

  He watched as she moved to the door and blocked it with the blanket trunk. She returned to stand before him, and started to unbuckle her leather.

  She pulled off the stiff leather jacket and carefully set it up on the top bunk opposite. Her gloved fingers untied the quilted underpadding, and slipped it off her shoulders. Josiah’s breath quickened as the cloth moved over her skin to reveal….

  He frowned. “You’re hurt.” There were bruises on her shoulders, and a spectacular one on her left shoulder blade.

  Red seemed surprised at his concern as she glanced over her shoulder. “Auxter’s got some good men.” She lifted her brown hair off her back, and looked at the bruise as best she could.

  “You could’ve asked Evie for healing.”

  Red chuckled. “The twinges remind me to move faster next time. Besides, that man needs her help more than I do.”

  Her leather trous rode low on her hips, and Josiah swallowed as he watched her fold the underpadding and place it with the other garments. She moved with such grace, her breasts swinging gently. He caught her sly glance and his body responded.

  Red’s smile grew as she faced him and lifted her arms over her head. She stretched, arching her back, lifting herself up on her toes. Josiah’s entire body twitched at the sight, a fact not lost on the warrior woman before him. There were scars, of course. He should have expected that, but it bothered him just the same.

  Red relaxed from the stretch and sat on the bunk opposite to remove her boots. They were set together by the end of the bunk, her thick socks placed over them to air. Josiah chuckled softly, and she gave him a questioning look.

  “It seems odd,” Josiah said. “You’re so neat.”

  “Old habit,” she explained. “A warrior needs to be able to find her gear in the dark, half-asleep.” She stood, and started to remove her trous. “Can’t do that if it’s scattered about.” She skimmed the leather down without a second thought.

  Josiah swallowed hard. She was so lovely, standing there, naked but for her gloves. She was smooth and sleek, moving with such grace that he didn’t realize she was climbing into the bunk until she whispered “Move over.”

  He did, moving onto his side and shifting on the bunk until his back pressed against the wall. Red lay down on her side, facing him. “Want you to do something for me.” Her whisper filled the space between them, in the soft shadows.

  “What?” Josiah whispered back.

  Red smiled, took his hand and guided it down, sliding it over her warm skin to rest over her heat. Josiah gasped at the invitation, and Red kissed his open mouth gently. “Please, Josiah.” She pressed his hand down, and his fingers slid into her moist depths.

  Red arched against the pressure, throwing her head back with a moan. Josiah caught her head, his fingers lost in the silk of her hair.

  Soft movements from her encouraged him to apply a slight friction, ever so gently. Red’s hips jerked, but she brought her leg up over his thigh, opening herself to him. She reached out and grabbed his hip, the leather of her glove warm on his skin. Her other hand pulled his head down to her breasts.

  He was lost then, in a tangle of arms and soft skin. Josiah felt something loosen in his chest, as if a tight band had been cut, as he nuzzled and teased her with lips and tongue. Soft sighs and whispers urged him on, until Red bucked against his fingers, convulsing in pleasure.

  She collapsed back on the bed, and they lay there breathing hard for a moment. Josiah laughed weakly as he brushed the sweaty hair off her forehead. “I’m not sure we needed a fire,” he whispered. “Not for warmth, anyway.”

  Red gave him a sultry look. “Not done yet, Josiah.” She moved then, arranging him flat on his back. She sat astride and guided him into her center without a word, then sat down, seating him fully within.

  They both froze for a moment. Breathing. Adjusting. Feeling.

  Gods, it had been so long. Josiah closed his eyes, feeling her heat spread over his body like a fever. It had never been like this, never felt like this before. He opened his eyes to see her face above his. Her eyes were unfocused, dreamy, and suddenly he wanted more. He reached up, and grasped her hips.

  She focused then, putting her gloved hands alongside his head, her hair falling down around them. Her breasts swayed slightly, the nipples hard, tight buds.

  “Your cycles,” Josiah breathed. “Do we need to take care?”

  She looked down at him with an odd look. “There’s no reason to worry, lover.” The ends of her hair floated softly over his chest as she shook her head.

  “Well, then.” He tightened his grip on her hips, and thrust up.

  “Yes, Josiah. Oh, yes,” Red moaned as he moved within her. She began her own dance then, matching his movements. Josiah’s mind swam away into heat and light and exquisitely shared pleasure. He heard her cry out as he lost his mind and followed the light into darkness.

  When he awoke, he found himself in the bunk alone, covered by the blankets. He turned his head and saw Red in the bunk opposite, curled under a blanket, a very satisfied smile on her face.

  Josiah frowned, feeling a loss somehow. But then he sighed, rolled over, and returned to sleep.

  RED hummed under her breath as she spread an extra blanket over Josiah.

  He hadn’t stirred when she’d eased off him, not even when she’d cleaned them both. He just lay there, sprawled all over the bunk, taking up every inch of room.

  It was warm in the foaling room, but the fire would die as they slept. Red made sure he was well covered, from head to toe. She smoothed the blanket over his chest. Asleep, he looked younger, the lines of care eased, and that pleased her.

  The love bite on his neck pleased her even more.

  She added wood to the fire and checked the door. All was secure, so she shifted her sword belt to the other bunk and crawled under the blanket, turning to face Josiah.

  She yawned, and stretched, sticking her legs out and pointing her toes. She pulled them back under the wool, feeling good. He hadn’t been the most skillful lover she’d ever had, but there’d been something different with him.

  A rush of pride filled her at the thought of her mark on his neck. A strong sense of satisfaction. A sense of power, too, at the way he’d responded to her touch. Red smiled, as she yawned again.

  There was profit to be made here,
a throne to be had. The odds were better than she’d first thought when Josiah had told her she was “Chosen.” She chuckled at that. Her, a “Chosen One.” This prophecy had a warped sense of humor, that was certain.

  Her eyes drifted back to Josiah. Immune to magic. She studied his sleeping form, and thought about that for a bit. How could you use that to your advantage, against a mage? Would he “pop” a mage’s protective spell if he drew near? What was his range? Not being able to be healed, that was a problem. But in a battle…

  She yawned yet again, gave it up, and settled down to sleep. There’d be work to do in the morning, what with the priestess returning for her answer. A group of people to convince, and a very young girl who needed to be won over. Questions she needed to ask, information she had to have.

  She drew a breath, and set those thoughts aside. That was for tomorrow. Now was the time for rest, and dreams. Sweet dreams, if she could help it.

  A picture of Josiah’s face as she’d marked him floated in her mind’s eye. She smiled again, as she surrendered to sleep.

  “Profit,” indeed.

  THIRTEEN

  IT was midday before Evelyn could escape from her Church duties and return to Josiah’s hut. She wasn’t certain that she’d had the right frame of mind during her prayers, but hopefully the Lord and the Lady would understand. She’d been distracted by the thought of trying to convince Red Gloves to follow her destiny.

  All the arguments and points she’d thought to use were a jumble in her brain. With a wry smile, she admitted to herself that every Chosen she’d found so far had been a babe in arms, and there’d been no need to do more than get them to safety quickly.

  Red was another matter.

  She stepped out of the portal, into the ruined shrine, and then hurried along the path, intent on reaching Josiah’s hut, mulling over the bait she might use to lure the mercenary. Wealth, that was a fact. Power, certainly. She’d mention the needs of the people, but she wasn’t sure that would motivate her.