By midday, the puckered, gray, angry look of the surrounding flesh had diminished significantly to a much healthier dark pink. The swelling had gone down quite a bit, and even his fever was lower. And both Rhia and Sharyn were completely wiped out.
While Sharyn rested and RuArk slept, Marth and Linc stepped in and covered for them. Lunis and his team of Draeman and Gaian Houseman, kept the household running smoothly. Sharyn had warned her that using their Gifts in such an intense manner would tax their bodies tremendously. But Rhia had to admit that she hadn’t really believed Sharyn.
Joan came to hang out, as she’d done since they were kids. Bored senseless, and beginning to feel beyond useless, Rhia welcomed the company.
“Right now, I feel like I’ve been run down by a hover and backed over at least twice,” she groaned, sprawled out on the floor in front of the fireplace. “But once I’m at one hundred percent, what am I going to do?” Rhia let out a frustrated sigh. “Being bored is not something I’m used to.”
“I am definitely going to order a medical pod from the High City. Being this far out from the center of the technology capital of the world sucks.”
She sat up to sip her third cup of a disgusting muddy-brown restorative tea Brita had sent up. She wished it would hurry up and start restoring.
“Blazes, this stuff tastes like boiled ass.”
“I don’t even want to know where you thought up that analogy, Rhia,” Joan laughed. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you talk to RuArk about setting up a training class for the women?” Joan reached for a warm loaf of honey bread. “Even the Draeman men who aren’t soldiers might be interested.”
“What kind of class are you talking about? Blades? Art of war? Lost Arts? What?”
“Just your typical run-of-the-mill self-defense. From what you’ve told me, they certainly could have used it the night you all were attacked. If not for the Gaian warriors, who’ve handled blades since before they could walk, and the few Draeman soldiers assigned here, Province Springs could have easily been lost.”
“Agreed. But what I’d like to know is who were those bastards that attacked us. They couldn’t have possibly been men from this province.”
Rhia turned toward the door and frowned at Linc who’d barged into her bedroom unannounced. Good thing she’d risen and dressed already. The man leaned against the wall just inside the threshold and mumbled an apology that seemed less than heartfelt. Obviously he had news, so she let it go. Marth, Osgar and Dalmore hung back, not stepping into her space until she waved them in.
None of them looked happy.
She turned to Joan. “Uncanny how much that one and Marth look alike. Can you tell them apart now?”
Joan nodded and gave her friend a “well duh” look and said, “Of course. There are little tells, plus Marth’s energy is different.”
Different energy, eh? Rhia guessed it had more to do with her friend spending time between the sheets with the man who now made a beeline for her. Joan automatically held up her cup for him to take a sip of steaming coffee. He declined and kissed her on the cheek. Moss-green eyes twinkled above a sincere and beautiful smile as strong-looking fingers caressed the curls at the base of Joan’s skull. Freshly showered and in traditional Gaian tunic and leathers, Marth’s long black hair was now pulled back into a silky braid that brushed across the middle of his broad back.
An incredulous Rhia turned wide eyes on Joan. The woman looked as if she hadn’t a care in the world. There was no hint of concern, no grumbling about not getting enough sleep. No short fuse. It was downright disconcerting. Then understanding dawned, and Rhia’s scowl faded.
“Are you really Joan Rouillard? You’re much too calm to be my lifelong girlfriend. Wouldn’t have anything to do with mating would it?”
Without bothering to look up from her cup of coffee, Joan replied with a bit of her usual sauciness. “Good loving can do wonders for your disposition, Ree.” And she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed to say so. She looked up over her shoulder and flashed Marth a scorching wicked smile that he obviously understood well, if his answering growl was any indication.
Dalmore and Osgar cleared their throats as a broody Linc pushed away from the wall and said, “The attackers. They were not men. They were Noman.”
“What?” Rhia rose from her spot on the floor so quickly she bumped into the coffee table and her nasty tea toppled onto the plush cream carpet. “Why the hells would Noman come here? Stalking me on the road here is one thing, but to attack the township?”
“I will tell you more when the Wind Storm is awake. It is not proper for me to do so until he gives me leave,” Linc said, his tone flat.
Rhia weaved ever so slightly on her feet, yet still managed to fume. “Excuse me?”
“Rhia, sit down before you fall down.” A large dollop of whipped cream disappeared into another steaming cup of dark coffee as Joan said, “You still haven’t quite recovered from all the energy expended while healing RuArk. Linc will tell us what he knows when he can. It wouldn’t be proper to tell you before he tells his commanding officer. Brita says he’ll be awake soon anyway.”
Joan was right about the warrior pecking order. Draeman soldiers wouldn’t have hesitated to give her the details, considering she outranked them all. But these weren’t Draeman. Linc and company reported to RuArk, regardless of her giving orders right after the man had been wounded. However, the knowledge did nothing to remove her irritation at not getting any answers.
She wanted to know what the hell was going on, but that blasted Linc wasn’t budging an inch. In fact, he stared her down with a glare, as if he wanted to say something more. She was really getting sick of his funky attitude and her neck moved slightly to the side as her hand found its way to her hip. Just as she was about to ask him if he had a problem, he excused himself.
The day, along with the next one, passed in a blur of nasty tea, bites of food and fading into and out of the oblivion of restorative sleep. She awoke to a quiet room and realized that for the first time in almost two days she didn’t feel as if she were going to keel over. She rose and made her way to the bathing room by the light of the moon that filled the space with its glow.
When she was done, instead of bunking down on the couch again, she climbed the steps and eased beneath the covers next to RuArk. He didn’t stir one bit. Rhia sat there for a moment just watching the rise and fall of his chest, the flutter of his eyelids that said he was dreaming.
RuArk was a good man. She could almost see the gray twinkle of his gaze when he was being mischievous with her. Almost smell the scent they created together when they made love. Feel his arms around her.
As she sat, a peace that she hadn’t experienced in many years came over her until it overflowed her heart center.
I’m just relieved that my lifemate will live. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Smiling at her own silliness, she lay down and once again let sleep claim her.
* * * * *
RuArk awoke with the sun beaming in through the terrace windows. He tried to sit up, but his body was heavy with fatigue, like a man wearing a full suit of clothes trying to swim across the river. All he could do was slump back against the pillows. Though he felt anything but calm, he forced himself to lie quietly as he took deep cleansing breaths.
A quick glance around told him he was at home, in his own bed. But why? What in blazes had happened? He tried to remember the exact events of that night, but his thoughts remained fuzzy around the edges. He shook his head briskly to clear it, but the action did nothing except start a wicked pounding at his temples.
In his mind’s eye, he recalled Rhia drenched in rain and covered in blood. There’d been darkness and agony. Cold cobblestones, thick slippery mud, pain. A wide-eyed Rhia had screamed at him, but he couldn’t hear her words, only the thick pounding of his own heart. Then there’d been peace.
He reached for his Source and the memories came—his shoulder had stung, then burned like fire, even in the raging storm. As he looked down at his body, his energy waned, and his hold on his Source along with it.
The injured limb was wrapped snugly in clean strips of gauzy white material and bound securely against his chest. His free hand rubbed against his still-pounding temple.
Focusing on the sounds around him, he heard someone open the door to his apartments and walk toward the bedroom. He hoped whoever it was would come in and give him some news on what had been going on while he’d been out of it. But the footfalls paused in the outer room, turned around and went back out the way they’d come.
Not long after, he heard footsteps again, but these were much heavier and moved a bit slower than before. They could only belong to a man. His door opened just wide enough for an old man with long gray hair to stick his head through the opening.
“Good, you are awake. How do you feel?”
“Grandfather? When did you arrive? How long have I been asleep?”
“Rhia sent word that you were injured in battle. We were not worried with Sharyn here, so I waited until this morning to make the journey across the river to see you and promised to send word to your parents about how you are doing. You have slept for several days. What do you remember?”
“Other than getting injured, not much at all.” RuArk grunted and rubbed his slightly feverish chest. The muscles felt as if they were stretched too tightly across his ribs, sending a dull, but potent pain through his upper body. Perfect, a pain in his chest to match the one in his head and shoulder. He was sore all over. Had someone spent the last few days beating him? Moving his uninjured arm to stretch the muscles, he winced with each movement.
“Your wound was life threatening. The healing required great amounts of energy, which caused your muscles to seize. You will be tender for some days to come.”
“What happened to me? The last thing I remember was seeing Rhia fighting off two men dressed in black. It was raining and the courtyard was full of mud and puddles of blood. Where is my lifemate?” RuArk was trained to be free of fear in every situation, but the thought that something happened to Rhia while he’d been laid out brought him to the edge of his control. He had to get up.
“You are not to rise, grandson,” the Grandfather said sternly. “I am too old to fight with you, but I will thrash you if I must. Make this too difficult and I will simply send for your mother.”
Warlord or not, Queen Mila was the last person he wanted to see. If left up to her, he would be ordered to bed for the next two cycles.
Nodding his agreement to behave, he watched the Grandfather rise from his spot on the top step of the platform bed, his hand on the pommel of his blade.
“You came to me armed?” RuArk was incredulous.
“As I said, I will thrash you if necessary.” The old man smiled and RuArk shook his head at his elder’s antics. “Besides, if you are concerned for Rhia, there is an easier way. Simply invoke the life bond and you will know she is well. You may not have enough energy to hold strong to your Source, but the life bond should be effortless.”
And he was right—it flared and RuArk immediately felt her. She was close and perfectly well. Her voice popped into his head and he went still. It wasn’t coming through the bond. It felt more like a vague memory, just out of reach. She’d been having a conversation with Joan about him. About loving him? But had it been just a dream?
The Grandfather sat down again at his bedside and told him everything he’d learned since his arrival this morning. He left out nothing, including how Rhia and Sharyn linked their Gifts together to dissolve a rather nasty blood poison.
“Blood poison?” RuArk wrinkled his brow, but let the Grandfather continue.
“Yes, most likely smeared on the blade that sliced through your shoulder. Both Rhia and Sharyn exerted a great amount of energy to save you, grandson. It took Rhia two days to even get out of bed after that. Perhaps the healing would not have wiped them out had you been a skinnier warrior, eh?” With a chuckle and a wry grin, he parted the light woven tunic and bared RuArk’s upper body so he could lay his hands on his bare chest. The elder’s Source burst forward like pure light, and then flowed outward to wrap RuArk in comforting warmth. The Grandfather listened to RuArk’s lungs and heart without bothering to use the steth sitting nearby. Amazing considering the tech that Draeman relied so heavily on still couldn’t pull off such a feat.
“The fever has just about broken, and your lungs are clear. But you still have some healing to do. You must listen to me in this and heed the instructions given to you if you wish to regain your full strength. I have already given Lunis instructions on what you are to eat and drink. You must also rest seven more days.”
RuArk started to protest, but the pain beating against the back of his eyes caused him to clamp his mouth shut. What a headache. And he still hadn’t seen Rhia.
The Grandfather helped him sit up and then rose and made his way down to the floor.
The old man waved goodbye and walked out into the living room without another word. But where was Rhia? RuArk wanted some answers and he wanted them now. Just when he felt his temper slip, the bedroom door opened again and his scowl faded into a smile. A warm glow began low in his body and it wasn’t from the remaining fever.