Josiah sighed under her touch. “I’m afraid there’s more of the gray than the black.”
“Silver,” Red corrected him. She continued to work, but she made sure that her gloved fingers stroked the back of Josiah’s neck once in a while, the barest of teasing touches. He shifted a bit, but made no protest.
She worked around to the front, trimming back the curls just enough so that they framed his face. She couldn’t resist stroking his lips with a gloved finger.
He looked at her with hungry, smoky eyes, the gold flecks gleaming in the depths.
Satisfied, she sat next to him on the bed, gathered her hair in a fist, and pulled it over her shoulder to see the ends.
“Do you want me to…?” Josiah asked.
“No need,” Red said. “I’ve done it this way for a long time.” She trimmed the ends, and then released the hair so she could gather it on the other side. With careful strokes, she cut it short so that it fell just to her shoulders.
Josiah was busy brushing the hair from his tunic. She stood, and they made short work of gathering the bits on the floor. Josiah went out to shake the blanket.
Red sheathed her dagger and pulled off her boots. Josiah returned, and together they smoothed the blanket over the bed.
He stood across the bed, and looked at her. “So, Chosen.”
“Josiah,” Red breathed, “take off your tunic.”
Josiah stepped around the bed, and walked to her side as he pulled the garment over his head. Red reached to help him, kissing him as soon as his lips appeared under the cloth. She tossed the tunic aside.
Josiah returned the kiss hungrily, and Red leaned in close, enjoying his warm, wet mouth and teasing him with her tongue. Breathing in his scent, she moved closer, enjoying the feel of her tunic caught between their bodies.
Josiah put his arm around her, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. Red broke the kiss, tossing her head back with a chuckle. She pushed back, escaping from his arms, and pushed him down on the bed.
Josiah sat. “Doesn’t seem quite fair, that your tunic—”
Red pulled her tunic over her head in a single move. She grinned at Josiah as he took her in. “Mercenaries don’t play fair, High Baron.” She reached down, and skimmed out of her trous as fast as the fabric would allow.
She kicked the clothing to the side, and climbed on the bed to kneel behind Josiah.
She pressed herself to his back and reached around to stroke his nipples. Josiah moaned, and put his head back. An awkward angle, but Red kissed him as she reached around to untie his trous. “Stay like that, Josiah,” she whispered in his ear. “Don’t move.”
HE felt her soft breasts press against his back, felt her arms come around his waist. He tried to obey her, tried to stay still, but his body had other ideas.
Her gloved hand dipped between his trous and fevered skin, moving lower and lower. He arched up into her touch, and Red chuckled at his frustrated efforts.
Josiah growled and turned to grab her. Red fell back, laughing, her arms stretched above her head, her breasts quivering.
He moved then, up and over her, pinning her to the bed. Now it was her turn to moan and arch up against him, but he denied her that touch. Instead, he took her nipple in his mouth and teased it between his teeth.
Red reached down, and they struggled for a bit, each making demands that the other would not meet. Finally Red fell back, sweaty and spent, giving him a mock glare. “You have an obligation here, Lord High Baron.”
“Which I will meet, Chosen.” Josiah nuzzled her neck. “If not now, there is always the morrow. I will satisfy, that I promise. But when? Well…”
The play left Red’s eyes. “I leave at dawn, Josiah. We have only this night.”
Josiah pushed himself up, bracing himself on his hands. “I thought you wouldn’t be ready for at least another week.”
“No.” Red shook her head. She reached up and stroked his face. “Fael moved fast, because the weather has held. I leave in the morning, with Bethral, Evelyn, and our warriors.”
Josiah looked at her. “Tomorrow, then. It begins tomorrow.”
Red nodded. “It does.”
“And finishes,” Josiah asked urgently, “when?”
“When it does, however long it takes.” Red sighed. “The best plans change to meet the circumstances.” She stared into his eyes. “If I had my way, I’d stuff you through a portal to Soccia. Instead, I’ll leave men here to guard you.”
“And the refugees,” Josiah said pointedly.
Red shrugged. “Them as well.” She hooked a gloved hand behind his neck. “Don’t you have something you need to do, ’Siah?”
He smiled down, and shifted his body between her legs. “I think so, Chosen.”
“Best be about it, then.” Red pulled his mouth down to her, and kissed him.
He shifted again, entering her heat slowly, taking his own time to enjoy the sensation. Red moaned, flexing her hips to take in more, but Josiah held firm, using his mouth and hands to stroke and tease.
She hissed when he was fully seated and, moving her hands down, pulled him closer. Josiah resisted her, setting his own pace. A long, slow, steady stroke. He watched her face as she flushed, lost in her passion, as her body twisted beneath his. Her eyes closed, her head thrown back, he watched as she fell from the height he had taken her to.
Josiah stilled, waiting. Her wet heat rippled around him, and he breathed deeply, not wanting to give in to the demands of his own body. He was rewarded when her eyes fluttered open, and she gave him a lazy smile that turned to surprise when he pressed down. “Josiah,” she breathed, responding to his demands.
He kissed her then, demanding her surrender, speeding up his thrusts until she clung to him, almost sobbing from the pleasure. Red threw her head back and cried out his name, and this time Josiah followed, losing his own awareness to the pulse of her body.
When they recovered, breathing hard, their bodies entangled, he reached out and brushed her hair from her face. Red smiled drowsily and snuggled close with a murmur of satisfaction. He moved his lips to her ear. “Sleep, kitten.”
Her eyes flew open, and she stared at him, wide-eyed. “Kitten?”
Josiah swallowed hard. “I…you…” He dropped his head back on the pillow. “Just go ahead and kill me.”
Red shoved over, and straddled him, pushing his wrists down on the bed. “What did you call me?”
Josiah looked up into those lovely eyes. They weren’t glaring at him, or sparking with fury. She almost seemed…embarrassed.
There was a flush on her cheeks, and he’d swear that she was more pleased than not. He gave her a careful look. “I enjoy holding you, and when we come together, the way you curl up next to me, I…” He shrugged as best he could. “You look like a kitten. All sated and soft next to me. Like you are about to start purring.”
She gave him a searching look, as if almost afraid to trust him. His smile widened slowly. “You like it.”
She pursed her lips, pressing him further into the bed, shaking her head in denial. “Don’t call me that in front of other people.”
He bucked his hips up, and knew she could feel him responding to her. “Of course not.”
Her mouth quirked up, and to his delight, the smile spread to her eyes. “I mean it, Josiah. I’ll…”
“What would you hurt, Chosen?” He moved his hips again. “Seems to me you have a use for all the important parts. My face, perhaps?”
She leaned in and kissed him thoroughly, until they both broke it off, breathless and hungry.
“My chest, perhaps?” Josiah asked.
Red moved down, and kissed his chest just above his heart.
Josiah closed his eyes at the touch of her soft lips. He chuckled as he felt her move again. “Or perhaps you’d cut off my—”
Red swallowed him whole.
With a cry, Josiah shattered into sharp shards of wet, hot pleasure.
IT was the camp sounds that woke her.
br /> Red opened her eyes as soon as she roused, but didn’t move. She was wrapped in Josiah’s arms, curled by his side, his breath on her neck.
They were starting to bring the horses out of the barn, to ready them for the journey. Saddles being put on horses blended with the jingle of tack. She could just make out Bethral’s voice talking softly. Probably telling Bessie what they were doing that day. Bethral seemed to feel that the horse should know as much as the rider.
She should be up and about the day.
It was the day, after all. The beginning of the conflict, the start of the battles that would place the Chosen on the throne.
What did it say that she’d rather stay in bed with Josiah?
She sighed softly, not wanting to rouse her goatherder. Now it really started, and they would have to be careful. With no knowledge of who had betrayed them, or what information the enemy had, it would be difficult to make any plans.
As if sensing her unease, Josiah shifted slightly. Red smiled. He’d looked so happy over those tiny leaves, his eyes gleaming bright in the sun.
She withdrew from his grasp slowly, easing off the bed. He was sprawled in the linens, and she made certain that he was well covered against the chill.
Her gear was arranged as she’d left it, and she dressed quickly. She moved quietly, so as not to waken Josiah. Kitten, eh?
It was embarrassing, but it delighted her, warming her heart deep within.
Her weapons strapped on, she paused when she realized that the shard was nowhere to be found. She looked under the bed, but it was not there. For that matter, she wasn’t sure of the last time she’d seen it. She shrugged. It wasn’t like it was really useful, after all.
Still…
Her gaze drifted back to the bed, where Josiah lay, curled in the bedding. Something clutched deep in her chest.
By the Twelve, she didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to leave this man.
Red stood by the side of the bed, watching Josiah sleep. She leaned over, checking again to make sure the blanket covered his shoulders. She drew in a deep breath, taking in his scent. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she leaned down and let her lips brush his hair.
She took up her boots, and left the tent.
There was work to be done.
THIRTY
EVELYN’S heart raced as she watched the rest of their warriors emerge from the portal. She couldn’t help but shift in the saddle. Her horse shifted as well, tossing its head in protest. She tightened the reins with sweaty palms, and calmed her mount. But she couldn’t control her anxiety.
Red Gloves gave her a glance out of the corner of her eye. “Nervous?”
Evelyn took a deep breath. “Of course.”
Bethral chuckled.
They were watching the portal from a distance as the men came through in formation. Red had insisted on being the first through, and she’d placed herself where she could be seen as they formed up.
They were to ride for Radaback’s Rill. Evelyn had never been to the valley where the stream was located, but it was said to be lovely. Ezren had told her the story of the place. It was nonsense, of course, but still, one had to wonder….
Evelyn took another deep breath, trying to calm herself and focus on what was happening around her.
Bethral sat astride Bessie on the other side of Red, the picture of calm, armored strength. She carried the furled banner, the standard of the Chosen that Ezren had insisted on. Bethral and Bessie stood as one, unmoving, steady as a rock.
Evelyn shifted in the saddle again.
“Try to look a bit more confident, Lady High Priestess,” Red said with a wry smile. “It would help if you didn’t squirm.”
“Five years,” Evelyn said. “Five years, I’ve worked for this. Since the day I rescued Gloriana and took her to Auxter.”
More men came through the portal.
“I’ve used resources, gathered people, all in the hope of restoring sanity to Palins.” Evelyn looked at the Chosen. “I’ve every right to be worried.”
“Waste of energy,” Red said.
“What if no one has answered the call to arms? What if one of the High Barons has betrayed us?” Evelyn took the reins in one hand, and rubbed the other dry on her robes. “Months of planning come down to this hour. How many warriors will be there? Will you have enough warriors to challenge the Regent?”
“We’ll know soon enough,” Bethral answered.
The last of the men came through the portal, and Evelyn closed it with a gesture. Oris came up, wearing a grim smile. “We’re ready, Chosen.”
“Lead the way, Oris,” Red said.
Oris turned his horse, and signaled the men to move. He took the lead, sending out riders as scouts.
“Well, Lady High Priestess, the answers await. Let’s go find out, shall we?” Red urged Beast to a walk.
Evelyn followed. “I’ll pray as we ride.”
“That, too, is a waste of energy,” Red called over her shoulder.
“Still,” Evelyn muttered under her breath, “it can’t hurt.”
The ride was a swift one. Red might not have been worried, but she wasted no time, setting a swift pace to the meeting place. Evelyn said her prayers as they rode, asking the Lord and the Lady for aid in their cause. There had to be enough men, there just had to be. After all the work, the effort, the miracle of finding an adult Chosen…the Gods must be blessing their purpose.
A shout caught her attention, and Evelyn looked up to see Oris at the top of a rise just before them, waving them on. Red and Bethral rode forward, and Evelyn urged her horse to follow. She had to know….
Red and Bethral topped the rise and sat there, looking down into the valley.
Evelyn kicked her horse forward, pushing between Oris and Red. The rise sloped down into a wide valley.
A valley filled with men and horses, wagons and tents.
Evelyn sat frozen in astonishment.
The valley brimmed over, it held so many. Heads were starting to turn their way as their own warriors moved up behind them.
Red Gloves sat on Beast, looking smug.
More movement below, as the word spread like a wave through the crowd. Warriors emerged from their tents, looking in their direction, shading their eyes. Evelyn watched in amazement, not quite daring to believe. Perhaps this was the Regent’s army, and they’d—
“Unfurl the standard,” Red commanded.
Bethral unfurled the cloth, and the standard of a white dagger star on a red background snapped out, fluttering in the breeze.
As the cloth flared out, loud cheers erupted from below, and grew into a roar. Tears filled Evelyn’s eyes as relief swept through her. She could see the men reacting, opening their mouths to bellow a welcome. They pulled their swords, held them over their heads, and hailed the Chosen.
In response, Red stood in her stirrups and drew her sword, holding it over her head to flash in the sun.
The cheers deepened, resounding through the valley.
Evelyn’s breath caught in her chest, and she whispered a quiet prayer of gratitude.
“Well enough.” Red settled back in her saddle and took a deep breath, which made Evelyn believe she hadn’t been as calm as one might think. After sheathing her sword, Red twisted her hair up and donned her helmet. “Let’s be about this, shall we?”
She urged Beast down the rise, and broke into a gallop. Bethral and Evelyn followed, through the camp of cheering men to a command tent in the center of the valley.
“AMAZING,” Lord Fael said as he brought them into the command tent. “And they keep coming. Apparently word has spread like wildfire of the coming of the Chosen.”
“Ezren Storyteller,” Bethral said.
“Probably.” Red looked around as the others gathered about the central table, satisfied with what she saw. “But this means more men that we don’t know, and no one can vouch for.”
“And which one will want to stick a knife in your ribs,” Wolfe of Wyethe offered. La
dy Helene sat quietly beside him at the table, dressed sensibly in decent armor. Wolfe’s influence, no doubt.
Red nodded. “So I’ll keep the warriors from Auxter’s farm as my personal guard. I know and trust them.”
“Makes sense,” Fael agreed.
“The Heir is safe and well hidden,” Red told them. “She’s young, but ready to step in if I fall.”
“Let us hope it doesn’t come to that,” Lord Carell said.
Red grinned. “I’d prefer it.” She pulled out one of the maps and spread it before them. “Now, let’s talk troop movements. Lord Fael, Lady Helene, we need to depend on part of your forces to keep Elanore and her army from crawling up our ass.”
“There’s been no movement on her part,” Wolfe offered. “She uses Odium, and they are slow and do not hide their passage.”
“Keep it that way,” Red said. “Stay between her and our rear. That also puts you in a position to reinforce from behind if needed. Now, as to our course. I think that—”
The talk went on for an hour or so, and finally Evelyn stood and shook out her robes.
Red raised her head. “Leaving?”
Evelyn nodded. “I’ve sunset duties at the Church. I need to pass the word to the healers that we are moving. I’ve made arrangements that they will join us in the next few days.”
“That’s not a good idea, Evelyn,” Red said quietly.
“It’s dangerous, I grant you that,” Evelyn said calmly. “But it’s also the last chance to see if there is any gossip or rumor. I will be gone only a few hours.”
“Have a care, Lady High Priestess,” Red warned. “If something happens, there will be no rescue.”
Bethral’s head jerked up at that, a frown on her face. Red glared at her, knowing the signs. “I mean it. This venture is not so secure that I can afford to rescue one at the price of success.”
Bethral held her eyes, then looked away.
“I understand, Chosen.” Evelyn smiled. “But I’ve walked under this threat for five years. One more night makes little difference.” Evelyn looked at the map. “The next shrine you encounter is here.” She pointed it out on the map. “I’ll be there at dawn, with a corps of healers and perhaps more information.”