Chapter Thirty-Two

From his vantage point, Duncan watched the area fill with people whose anxious eyes watched him as if he were an angry god. He tried not to fidget. Captain Fawr stood beside him comfortable in his own skin, and cool as a morning breeze. How he envied his captain’s capacity for happy saliency. Was it a learned behavior from a lifetime in the spotlight or something inborn?

Giving in to an overpowering urge, Duncan fingered the hilt of his ceremonial saber. He searched the crowd for Faelan and spotted her brother pushing his way to the front. Duncan’s heart froze. If she was not with her brother, Faelan wasn’t coming.

His experience with women was, Duncan was first to admit, limited, but as a man with five older sisters, he counted his experience interpreting feminine moods vast. At some point last evening, he had offended. He needed to discover how he had offended and make amends. Easier said than done in the present circumstances, unless her brother—

“You’re on.” Captain Fawr’s velvet voice whispered at Duncan’s shoulder.

Duncan’s gaze shifted to the prisoners. Condemned men led to their places by a cadre of allied personnel. He could not afford reports that the surrender’s generous terms were a unilateral garrison decision. The allied generals, Duncan so carefully placated, stood at attention behind their chairs. They were not fidgeting.

Duncan gave the hem of his dress jacket a tug, and touched his useless ceremonial saber. “Yes.”

“Don’t look so glum, Sugar-babe. We won, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Not likely. He would see smoking carnage until he closed his eyes for good. Aiming what felt like a sickly smile at his captain, Duncan made his way to his place directly across from Faelan’s uncle.

Duncan brought his arm up slowly, saluting the older man, a show of respect for a worthy foe. Surprise flickered in General Foley’s eyes before he returned the salute. Duncan took his seat, a signal to those of his party to do likewise. Across from them, the defeated general remained at attention.

Duncan flicked his hand at the empty chair across the table from his. “Take your seat, please, General. You will find five copies of the surrender document before you. We will sign all five. You have my word they are true copies, however you are free to read each of them before signing should you wish.”

“One will do. You’ve shown yourself a man of his word.”

“Once ratified,” Duncan continued as formal as ever, “heralds will read the terms to those gathered here today, and justice will be swiftly satisfied.”

The general leaned over the pile of documents and read, his lips moving over the words. On the second page, his gaze snapped up.

“You changed the part about the raiders.”

Duncan inclined his head. “Someone I trust familiarized me with the inner workings of your army. This seems more just.”

The general’s eyes narrowed. “If we’d met under different circumstances, Field Marshal, I believe we would have been friends.”

“I would have been honored, sir,”

The rest of the signing ceremony passed without comment. Documents went down one side of the table and up the other. Four signed documents left for Elhar via four different couriers mounted on fast horses. Duncan stood and deposited the final copy in Captain Fawr’s hands. Then he yanked the gold field marshal’s bars off his own collar and tossed them on the table.

“Captain Fawr.” Duncan snapped off a crisp two-fingered salute. “I respectfully request permission to step down.” He fought the urge to squirm under his captain’s scrutiny. He hated Kree’s poker face. It held no clue of what went on inside the man’s head, and that sometimes proved dangerous.

At last, Kree shot him the familiar lop-sided grin. “Welcome back, First Lieutenant. I’ve missed you.”

“Thank you, sir. If I may be excused, I have pressing business.” Duncan jogged down the steps, his one thought, catching up to Faelan’s brother.

“Shug.”

Duncan stopped half way to the bottom, turned and gazed up at his captain.

“Well done, trooper. Thank you.”

Judging from the grin spreading across Kree’s face as he gazed down at him, his own answering smile looked sappy. There would be teasing later. He saw it in his captain’s laughing eyes. Just now, Duncan didn’t care. “You’re welcome, sir.”

****

“Mister Foley!”

The crowd parted for Duncan as if brushing against him might burn. After all these people had witnessed, he could not blame them. His internal temperature rose in direct proportion to his anxiety. Who knew but what they were right?

Silently chanting the pact, Duncan raced after Faelan’s brother. The other man’s dark curly head, all that was visible above the crowd, continued to move, increasing the distance between them.

Calling on his best command voice, Duncan bellowed. “Quinn Foley, wait. Please.”

Up ahead, Faelan’s brother turned. He scanned the crowd seeking the voice hailing him. Spotting Duncan, he crossed his arms over his chest, as unfriendly a stance as Duncan had ever seen.

Careful not to invade the other man’s space, Duncan stopped a few feet way. “Mister Foley, thank you for speaking with me.”

“What do you want, Field—” Quinn’s gaze dropped to Duncan’s collar where the missing gold bars had left an impression in the cloth. He cocked his head. “What do I call you now?”

“First Lieutenant, but Duncan will do.”

Quinn rubbed his chin. “All right, Duncan, what do you want?”

“No doubt…” Duncan paused, stared at his boots, and collected his thoughts. “No doubt you are aware Faelan visited me yesterday.” A derisive snort urged him to continue. “At some point during our visit, I offended her. Although I recognized the symptoms, the offense is a mystery to me. I had hoped Faelan confided in you, and I further hoped you might share her confidence with me.”

“You hoped for a lot.”

“I would be grateful for your help.”

Quinn gave a little negative head shake. “I’d be a sorry brother if I betrayed my sister’s confidence, but—” It was Quinn’s turn to stare down at his toes. “Faelan’s forever telling me what a genius you are. It wouldn’t be breaking a confidence if you guessed.”

Duncan glanced at the crowd pressed close around them, curiosity overcoming their fear of him. “Step aside with me and I shall…guess.”

The two men moved over to a large tree, which had somehow escaped felling. Under the shade of its thick limbs sat four squat empty barrels. Claiming one, Quinn made himself comfortable. Duncan paced.

“I changed the treaty at Faelan’s suggestion, sparing more lives. It pleased her.”

“And then…” Quinn prompted.

“I asked her to come home with me.”

“Ah-ha.”

Duncan strode back to Quinn. “She thinks my affection insincere?”

“She thinks your affection is that of an inexperienced young man caught up in wartime romance. She thinks you will be embarrassed by her in the real world.”

“But that’s absurd. She mistook my meaning.”

Jumping to his feet, Quinn spread his hands in a quick you’re-not-dragging-me-into-this gesture. “Mistook what, exactly? Did you mean to ask her to marry you?”

“I thought she would enjoy seeing the islands.”

“Listen. Faelan’s said her goodbyes to you. I won’t help you break my sister’s heart. Have a nice life, First Lieutenant.”

****

Her brother was in for all sorts of pain, Faelan fumed. For one thing, he’d camped in her doorway and wasn’t lifting a finger to help pack even though they were marching tomorrow. For another, he’d stuck his head in and asked, “Faelan, are you receiving,” three times before sundown.

Receiving. What a Duncan word. “No,” got a little bit harder to say with each repetition. Just when she thought Duncan would wear her down with his sheer relentlessness, he’d gone. And he hadn’t come back. It took awhile to get over the fact he hadn’t come back, but once she did, she’d actually gotten a few fitful hours of sleep.

Snatching up the wooden bucket near the entrance, Faelan ducked outside for water, and almost ran smack into Duncan. Dressed in the casual blue tunic troopers worn on the march, he stood beside his spotted horse, reins in hand. A pair of silent troopers waited about ten feet away, a pair of spotted horses in tow. Faelan glanced toward the sprawling camp across the river before her gaze snapped back to his.

“Where?”

“We decamped at dawn.”

She glanced at the pink horizon.

“Garrison dawn.” Duncan dropped his reins, closing the short distance separating them in two strides. “I expressed myself poorly when inviting you to my home. My words caused you to feel less esteem than I feel. I am very sorry. By way of apology, I offer you the opportunity to accompany your uncle to Elhar.” He motioned to the spare horses. “You may look after him. I asked Quinn too, but he declined. He said with the loss of your chief-men he’d be more use at home.”

Evil man, he wanted her close so he’d have time to turn her to his way of thinking, and his lure was irresistible. Faelan smiled. She couldn’t help herself. “Did you rehearse this speech?”

Duncan’s chin dropped. He gazed up at her, melting her heart. “A hundred times.”

Knowing Duncan, he meant it literally. Faelan gave in to the urge to touch his cheek. “Oh, Aimery, you’re making this so much harder than it has to be. Don’t you see that?”

He captured her hand in his, studying her face as if actually attempting to see her thoughts. “I d-don’t.”

“It will never work.”

“Why? Explain. Although you have never said the words, I know you love me.”

Explain. How did she explain what had no explanation? Faelan pulled her hand free, took a step back. “This isn’t the real world, Duncan. When your ardor cools, and it will, you’ll realize I don’t belong in your world.”

Duncan closed the precious distance Faelan’s back-peddling put between them, and took her shoulders in a painfully gentle grip. “Do I seem a changeable sort of man to you?”

He was doing it again, studying her, trying to see inside her soul. Faelan couldn’t meet his burning gaze. “No.” It came out as an embarrassing squeak.

“I asked you to come to the islands because I want to spend time with you in the real world, Faelan and Aimery, not field marshal and spy. If you are right and there is nothing real between us, I’ll bring you back to your people or establish you anywhere you wish.” Leaning forward, Duncan rested his forehead against hers. “You will love the islands, Faelan. They are so green. Please.”

“If you love me, Duncan, get on your fancy horse and go far away.”

Scorching her with one last intense questioning look, he did as she asked his body language telling her how much it hurt him. Someone else might not see it, but her wolf-side noticed weaknesses. She even smelled his pain. She had won. Why did she feel like the loser?

“Aimery, wait!”

Her shout hit Duncan like an arrow in the back, arching his shoulders, and pulling his head back. He walked his horse back to her, stopping about a yard distant, backlit by the rising sun.

Faelan shielded her eyes with one hand. “You said I could come to Elhar to look after my uncle’s needs. Is the offer still good?”

He stared at her as if she had lost her wits. Maybe she had if she thought she could steal more time with this man and still walk away from him.

“Yes.” He sounded like a stranger, distant, formal.

She had no one to blame but herself.

****

Duncan blazed into his captain’s tent so hot he feared throwing off sparks. “I don’t like the situation with the prisoner transport.”

His captain lifted his wife off his lap and stood. “It’s standard procedure.”

Duncan raked his hands through his hair. “It is too exposed. I want my prisoners on horseback.”

“They aren’t your prisoners anymore.” Captain Fawr’s heavy hands caught Duncan’s shoulders. “And the point of a Triumph is showing the populace a defeated enemy.”

Duncan spun away stalking across the tent. “The townsfolk will throw refuse at my prisoners.”

Behind him, his captain chuckled. “It’s usual.”

“I don’t care.” Duncan turned, spread his arms and let them fall back to his sides. “I wish to spare Faelan the experience, sir. May I send her into Elhar with your household?”

“You can try, but knowing that prickly wench of yours, I wish you good luck with it.”

Because his captain pegged Faelan’s temperament aright, Duncan rehearsed arguments supporting his position all the way to her tent.

“Hello stranger.” Faelan called to him from the path.

Stranger? Duncan froze. He had been doing his best to give Faelan space, trying not to press. It was true a first lieutenant’s duties were oddly more time consuming than those of a field marshal were, but he was hardly a stranger. He forgot his well practiced speech in the warmth of her smile and reached to take the bucket of water she carried.

“Thank you.” Faelan linked her arm with his for the short walk to her tent.

She was not one for public displays. Duncan’s heart soared. So what if she blocked access to his saber.

“What time are we entering town?”

“Ah.” Duncan set the bucket near the washstand. “That’s what I came to debate with you.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Debate?”

Not the best word choice. “The captain’s wife and father-in-law are going into Elhar ahead of the cavalry. I’m sending Ky’lara with them and I thought...” He shrugged. “You might join them.”

“Why?”

She held one of several outfits lying on her cot against her body, silently asking his opinion. Rich teal, it warmed her ice-blue eyes. He nodded his approval while his mind raced for an answer. He had to step carefully. “No reason. I just thought you might be tired of eating trail dust.”

Faelan dropped the teal fabric to her waist. “You are a terrible liar. You shouldn’t even try.”

“I’m not lying. Captain Fawr’s family is going into the city ahead of us.”

“Listen to you. You sound genuinely offended.” Faelan laughed. “I’m sorry, Aimery. You’re a wonderful liar. What are you not telling me?”

“The Triumph, the procession through town, may prove unpleasant.”

“And you want to protect me?”

“I always want to protect you. It does not make me a bad person.”

She came to him, twined her arms around his neck, and laced her fingers together behind his head. “It makes you a very sweet person, but I too, am the enemy. I’ll ride beside the prison wagon and face whatever your people throw at us.”

Duncan’s hands slipped to her hips and pulled her pelvis against his. He rested his forehead against hers. “Is this how it’s going to be? Whenever I suggest something, you say no, just because I suggested it?”

She laughed as if he’d said something funny, tilted her head, and kissed him. “All right, I’ll let you win. This time.”

****

Faelan leaned on the balcony railing watching the soldiers pass below, rank upon rank, in burnished armor and braided uniforms. A jubilant crowd cheered, chanting Captain Fawr’s name. The day was everything Duncan promised, hot, dusty. He glanced up acknowledging her with a smile as he passed her position. Suddenly glad she’d given in, Faelan waited until the prisoner wagon rumbled past before returning to the guest chamber assigned to her.

****

Sharp knocking woke her. She shook her head. Semi-darkness filled the sumptuous chamber. How long had she slept?

“Faelan? Are you there?”

Duncan. She flung open the door and threw herself into his arms, covering his face with tiny kisses. He half carried her across the threshold.

“Thank you.” She kissed him one last time before giving him space to breathe.

His mouth quirked up into an unsteady smile, pleased and wary at once. “You’re welcome…for what?”

“You placed troopers around my uncle’s transport.”

He crossed to the table, poured two glasses of Poi’ taw, and offered her one.

“I am glad you liked it.” He sipped the drink. “Captain Fawr is not so pleased.”

Faelan sat on one of the elegant parcel gilt settees flanking the room’s central fireplace and patted the cushion. “What did he say?”

Settling beside her, Duncan imitated his captain’s raspy whisper. “We have to talk.”

Faelan relaxed against the deep silk cushions. “That’s doesn’t sound so bad.”

Duncan actually turned in his seat, the better to stare at her. “Have you met My Captain? The last thing any trooper wants is to talk with him.”

Faelan tugged him back. Pulling his arm around her shoulder, she cuddled into his warmth. “He’s not that scary.” She felt Duncan’s muscles relax. His lips brushed her temple.

“To you.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a time. Faelan enjoyed a second glass of island wine, while Duncan nursed his first, lost in thought.

She kicked off her slippers and curled her legs under her. “Duncan, may I ask you something?”

He came instantly back from wherever his musing had taken him. “Anything.”

“When did you know I shared a blood tie with the women who rule this city?”

He sighed. “When you spoke your name and I witnessed My Captain’s reaction, I suspected it.”

“Is it why you wanted to save my life?”

“At first, I thought to please the Ladies.” He turned in his seat so she could see his face and took both her hands in his. “Later, I came to respect and love you. In the end, I thought only of you. Say you believe me.”

“I believe you.” Duncan pulled her into his lap, and she went willingly, twining her arms around his neck. “So what happens now?”

“The Great Ladies decided on house arrest and reeducation for your uncle and the chief-men. A formal trial is set for early next week after which the Garrison rides north to Qets, and Ky’lara, Lyman, the twins, and I make for the islands.”

A cold chill washed over Faelan. She shivered. “Leaving so soon?”

He nuzzled her neck, pressed a kiss on the sensitive spot below her ear. “I must,” he whispered across the dampness left by his kiss. Faelan shivered again for a different reason. “It is already storm season along the coast. If I delay much longer we cannot make the passage. It will be a merry journey. Come with us.”

Faelan tried to think of something besides Duncan’s warm lips nibbling her neck. Something rational. Nothing came to her. “The twins are going?”

“Mmm. They tell me their lives are worth nothing without a sea voyage.”

If the twins were going, it wouldn’t look so much as though Duncan was bringing a prospective bride to meet his family. “All right.”

Duncan stopped kissing her and lifted his head, his gaze full of blue fire. “You’ll come?”

“Yes. Now take me to bed, please.”

“Yes ma’am.”