Текст книги "Bound to the battle god"

Автор книги: Ruby Dixon

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Текущая страница: 26 (всего у книги 40 страниц)

55

Aron doesn’t come back into the room, so I guess we’re done. I fight back a blush—and irritation—as I move to a side table and give myself a quick bath to try to get rid of the sex smell. I adjust my clothing, fix my belt, and pace around the room until I’m sure my nipples won’t be taking out anyone’s eyes.

When I feel mostly like myself again, I emerge from the room.

Immediately, it feels like a mistake. Solat is by the door and does his best to pretend that I’m not here. Markos avoids eye contact, and Kerren’s face is tomato red. Vitar keeps clearing his throat. Only Yulenna seems calm, sewing in her seat, a tiny smile on her lips. I…guess we were louder than I thought. Oh man. I wonder if they heard Aron dirty talking to me? If they heard him slap my pussy and tell me that it belongs to him?

Awkward.

I take my seat next to Yulenna and pick up my sewing, but I can’t concentrate. I’m still all messed up from Aron’s claiming of me—because that’s what it was. I’m not sure how I’ll ever look Kerren or the others in the eye again.

“Give them time,” Yulenna murmurs, picking out a stitch.

It’s like she read my thoughts. “What?” I feign ignorance. “Time for what?”

“They have considered you one of them,” she says easily. “Another soldier in Aron’s army, of a sort. Now they realize that you serve him in an entirely different way.”

My cheeks get hot. I’m not sure if I’m offended at her “serving him” comments or if I’m baffled that it took Markos, Vitar, Kerren and Solat this long to figure out that Aron and I have a rather…tumultuous relationship. “And you? How do you feel about this?”

She shrugs, biting her thread off. “He’s a god. He takes what he wants, women included.”

And suddenly I’m no longer feeling secure in my position. I no longer feel like Aron’s Faith, because I remember his other Aspect—the Aron of Lies—slept with Yulenna. A lot.

“You don’t have to worry,” Yulenna says, and it’s like she’s reading my mind. “He’s never looked twice at me. For all that they’re Aspects of the same god, there are parts of them that are very, very different. This Aron sees no one but you.”

“Because I’m his anchor,” I agree, and the thought doesn’t sit easily with me.

“Mmm. Is that all it is?” Yulenna arches a brow at me.

I have no answers. I stare at her for a moment longer and then pick up my sewing. At least if my hands are busy I can pretend to be focused.

Right now, though, I can’t think of anything but Aron and his hands. Aron slapping my pussy and saying that it belongs to him. The heat in his eyes.

The hard length of his cock under his clothing…and the way he pushed me away.

We stay in Novoro for two more days after that, and during that time, I see very little of Aron. At first I think he’s avoiding me, but as Vitar and the others cycle through their guard duties, I realize that they’re spending time with Aron and the Novoran suppliers. I hear talk of mounts and blankets, tents and weapons. Food supplies. We’re preparing to leave, and I’m relieved.

Relieved, and a little frustrated.

After our torrid moment in my chamber, Aron’s only returned when I’m sleeping, and left before I woke each time. The only reason I know this is the vague realization as I sleep that someone’s next to me, and the indention of a large body in the blankets next to me when I wake. I know part of it is because he wants to “resist” me. It doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t hurt, though. Or that I don’t miss him.

Because I miss Aron terribly. Even though he’s arrogant and a jerk and impossible, he’s my friend and my protector. He’s the only person I completely trust to have my back, and the only person I feel I can be completely open with.

He’s mine as much as I’m his, and I miss him.

I’m tired of being in this place, too. They’ve been monopolizing Aron and because he doesn’t want me around them, I’ve been confined to these rooms. Granted, they’re nice rooms, but I miss his company. So I’m more than ready to leave Novoro once and for all.

Servants arrive with warm cloaks and tailors fit me for new, warm traveling clothing to go over the mountains. They confirm what I already know—the tournament is over and Aron has made it clear that it’s time for him to move on. After that, it’s a whirlwind of fittings and packings, and feasts for Aron as they celebrate him. Again.

No wonder he wants to move on. He can’t get shit done around here because they want to party constantly.

On the morning of the third day after my cataclysmic rendezvous with Aron, he returns to my rooms just as Yulenna and I are waking up and eating breakfast. He sweeps in, covered in a long, black cloak trimmed with white fur, a sword at his waist and studded armor on his chest. His long hair is pulled back into a tail, emphasizing the hard lines of his face and he looks so good I could eat him with a spoon.

His gaze immediately sweeps past Yulenna as if she’s a gnat and focuses on me. “Faith.”

“Hi,” I say around a piece of toast. “Are we leaving now?”

Aron nods. “Dress warmly. There is a storm coming.” He eyes me again, and then adds, “Can you be ready to leave once you finish eating?”

“Yup.” I get to my feet, licking my fingers. “I’ll have them pack up my breakfast. Come on, Yulenna.” I grab a new piece of toast and shove it in my mouth to eat while I dress. I’m glad—I’m more than ready to go.

“My lord of Storms,” a familiar voice calls from the hallway. “I have heard rumor that you are leaving our keep? Surely not now, with a snowstorm on the horizon?”

Irritation flashes across Aron’s features, and his jaw clenches. I recognize Lord Secuban’s voice an instant before he comes into my rooms. I get the impression Aron is equally tired of Lord Secuban, because I can see his face practically shutting down as the man moves to his side.

“Did I invite you into my concubine’s private chambers?” Aron asks coldly, not looking over at Lord Secuban.

Both Yulenna and I freeze at Aron’s dangerous tone of voice.

“I apologize for the intrusion,” Secuban says, not moving from his spot at Aron’s side. He totally does not realize how in danger he is. I’ve seen Aron kill men in an eyeblink for less. “But I must speak to you. Stay in Novoro longer, my great lord. We will give you everything you need to ensure that you win your battle against the other Aspects.”

Aron’s nostrils flare. “Not necessary.”

“We have the strongest army in the mountains, my lord. No one can take this keep, and we are the sole path to the northern wastes. Here, you can defend for months. Years, if you must. And we will be your army.”

“I am not interested in taking a defensive stance,” Aron tells him with a dismissive look. “It is better to take the battle to my enemies than to wait for them to approach.”

Secuban nods slowly. “I understand. Such are your teachings. But, my lord, if you will not stay, allow me to send my army with you to protect you and your anchor. It would be the greatest of honors for Novoro.”

Aron gives a dismissive snort. “I need no army. I am a god.”

Secuban looks worried. “I have heard rumors that other gods are building armies, my lord. In Adassia—”

“I am a god,” Aron states again, his tone brooking no argument.

Secuban bows deep. “Of course. Forgive me if I overstepped.” But he looks concerned, and I realize he knows more than he’s letting on. If others are forming armies, shouldn’t we do that, too?

I bite my lip and study Aron. As much as I don’t want to travel with an army, I also don’t want to die. But the look on Aron’s face tells me that no army is coming with us, regardless.

And I’m reminded that in addition to being a god, Aron is the personification of arrogance. I hope it’s not arrogance that makes him want to set off without extra men.

Really, really not a fan of dying, after all.

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56

A short time later, we set off on our woales, heavily laden with supplies. Yulenna rides behind Solat, and I ride with Aron. It’s bitterly cold and despite the layers of clothing I’m wearing, I’m shivering within minutes. Snow falls in a relentless blanket as we head out the north gate of Novoro and onto the rocky mountain path. Ahead of us stretches a trail that leads into the mountains, and I can see far ahead…and there’s nothing to see. There’s only more mountains, more snow, and more forbidding landscape.

It makes me wonder if we should have stayed in Novoro after all.

But Aron takes a deep breath as the imposing Novoro citadel disappears, and he relaxes. I can’t help but laugh, and I poke him in the side. “Glad to be gone?”

He glares at me from over his shoulder. “You have no idea how much that lord simpers and natters on, desperate to win approval.”

“Oh, I can guess.” Aron hasn’t had a moment’s peace since we arrived at Novoro. “Are you sure you won’t miss the titty buffet?”

“Titty…buffet?”

“Yeah, the all-you-can-eat, all-the-pussy-you-can-stand parties he put on every night?”

Aron snorts with amusement. “As if that would please me. A ‘titty buffet’ as you call it is unnecessary.”

“Because you don’t eat?”

“Because no tits hold my interest save yours.”

And just because I like hearing that, I press them against his back.

The snow grows thicker as the hours pass and the day steadily colder. No amount of layers keeps me warm and I’m shivering as I hold onto Aron. The woales seem utterly unaffected by the change in weather, plodding onward and chewing feed from ice-crusted feed bags. I look over at the other mortals in our group and see they’re all suffering as much as me. Yulenna’s teeth chatter constantly and her face is buried against Solat’s cloak. The other men have their heads down, shoulders hunched as they lean into the wind and try to endure it.

“Can we stop for the night?” I ask Aron when the sun goes down under the horizon. “I know a woale can go all night, but my ass quit about two hours ago. I need a fire and to get out of this wind before my nose freezes off my face.”

He looks over his shoulder at me in irritation, but his expression softens as he gazes on my face. I must look really bad because he nods. “We’ll set up camp here.”

“Here?” I ask, surprised. I look around and we’re still in the mountains, on the muddy, nasty path that winds between the rocks. It doesn’t look like any place I’d want to walk, much less spend the night. “In the middle of the road?”

“We’re not going to be out of the mountains tonight,” Aron says, tugging on the reins of our woale. “This is as good a place as any.”

“But it’s the middle of the road,” I protest. I guess I envisioned a nice copse of trees, a nearby creek, something more camp-like than just parking our asses here. We’re not even on an even slope.

“You heard Novoro’s lord,” Markos calls out. “They are the only ones with access to the northern wastes. They will not let anyone through to threaten my lord Aron.”

He’s got a point. And I do want to stop.

“Don’t be so fussy, Faith,” Aron murmurs. “Would you rather go back to Novoro and endure another titty feast?”

“It’s ‘buffet,’ and good point.”

Aron helps me down, and then I huddle with Yulenna while the three soldiers make two tents—one for me and Aron, and one for the rest of them to huddle in. I know Yulenna won’t say a thing, but I don’t like the thought of her sleeping with the guys. I pull Yulenna close. “You’re sleeping with us tonight, all right?”

“I would be honored to service you both,” she says, smiling at me.

Erk. “In a purely non-sexual way. I just want you to sleep somewhere where you don’t have to worry about being groped.”

“Markos would never,” Yulenna protests immediately.

Interesting that she mentions Markos out of all four. “And Kerren would never, either. But Vitar and Solat might not care.”

She laughs and nods. “I thank you, Faith. You’ve been good to me.” And she huddles up against me again.

I feel like a jerk as I share warmth with her. She’s been nothing but nice to me and I was terribly, horribly jealous of her when we first met. I’m learning a lot about myself and maybe Aron’s not the only one that had a touch of arrogance that needed to be eradicated. I hug her close, determined to be a better friend.

Vitar builds a fire in the center of the road, and then small folding stools are produced for me and Aron. Aron—who hasn’t lifted a finger—immediately sits and pulls me into his lap. I don’t even protest. It’s too cold, and he’s far too warm. I wrap my cloak around both of us and snuggle close. His big hand closes over my inner thigh, and for a moment, my girl parts get excited, thinking they’re about to get more attention. But all he does is hold me, one hand splayed over my lower back.

And really, it’s kind of nice to just cuddle.

Yulenna stands near the fire until Markos grabs the stool and indicates she should sit. She does gratefully, putting her hands out toward the flame for warmth. Kerren puts a pouch of water over the fire to boil, adding vegetables and hunks of dried meat as he goes. I notice Solat avoids Aron (and me), and he’s unusually quiet. Poor Solat.

Vitar crouches near the fire, putting his hands out. “Never thought the edge of the world would be so cold.”

“You thought it would be warm?” Kerren asks, surprised.

“No, of course not. Just…not quite like this. My balls are about to shrivel into coins.” He glances over at me. “Apologies.”

I just shrug. I like hearing the conversations, because it lets me glean more about this place that I’ve landed. Aron’s not much help since he’s as much a stranger here as I am. “So this is the edge of the world? Really?”

“Of course not. Mortals are fools,” Aron murmurs into my ear.

“It is not,” Markos says, nudging Vitar as he crouches next to him. “We’re simply far north. That’s all.”

“Edge of the world,” Vitar says again. “And we’re heading to the edge of time, where the spiders dwell. Just like the stories say.”

Solat snorts.

“It’s true,” Vitar protests. “When you were a boy, didn’t your mam tell you stories about the gods of time that lived in a tower made of webs and rode spiders? Who could kill with a jerk of a thread? And how if you step on a spider, you have to apologize to the Spidae so they don’t remove you from the weave?”

“Children’s stories,” Markos protests.

Vitar tilts his head. “You mean like the Anticipation?”

No one answers him.

Vitar turns to Aron. “Is it true, my lord? You would have the answers.”

“To which question?” Aron’s hand smooths up and down my back under my cloak, and I’m two seconds away from purring with pleasure. It should not be this delicious to be cradled in a man’s lap, damn it.

“Is it the edge of the world, truly?” Kerren asks, his eyes wide. “Will we fall off the edge?”

“No edge,” Aron says, his focus on my face and not theirs. “But the Spidae do exist. That’s where we are headed even now.”

“I knew it,” Vitar crows, launching to his feet. He stabs a finger at Markos. “I knew they weren’t just tales!”

“You’re pleased that we’re to meet spider gods?” Markos gives him an incredulous look, batting away Vitar’s finger.

“They really are spider gods?” I ask Aron, surprised. I remember Omos’s scrolls, but only vaguely, and I remember something about a triad of fates, but not that they rode spiders. I’m pretty sure I would have remembered something as creepy as that.

“They are not spiders. Just like I am not made of lightning and thunder is not my displeasure.” His mouth curls with derision.

I say nothing to that. Does Aron not realize it thunders every time he gets pissy? It’s the easiest way for me to tell his mood. He’s so oblivious sometimes. Still, I’m glad they’re not spider gods, because I’m really not a fan of insects. “So we’re visiting them. Are they expecting us?”

“Does it matter? They will know where my other Aspects are. I intend to find out what they know. Gain the advantage over my foes.” His fingers slide lower, stroking over my backside, even as the fingers on my thigh move slightly, grazing my skin in the most ticklish way. “We will find where my other Aspects hide and take our fight to them.”

“Without an army,” I point out.

“How quietly do you think we can move with an army?” Aron asks, amused. “And as the god of battle, I know which warriors I want to go into battle with, and it is not the Novorans.”

That elicits a chuckle from the other men. Okay, maybe Novoro isn’t known for its soldiers. He’s got a point. Still, a shit army beats zero army, doesn’t it?

“The Cyclopae,” Markos says. “They would make a worthy army.”

Aron nods. “That they would.”

“And already dedicated to you,” Vitar adds. “I’ve heard they remove one eye in your name when they reach adulthood.”

“More tales,” Kerren begins.

“It’s true,” Solat interrupts, speaking for the first time. “I rode with a Cyclopae barbarian for a time. They remove their left eye to honor Aron’s fight with the great dragon One-Tooth, and to prove that they only need one eye to best any man.”

“Well, that’s fucked up,” I announce.

Aron arches an eyebrow at me, the scarred one. “You do not approve?”

I lean in. “Can I just point something out to you, almighty lord of storms? Because I’m seeing two eyeballs in that face of yours. Your Cyclopae are gonna be mighty disappointed to realize they plucked out their eyes on your behalf and you didn’t do the same.”

He throws back his head and laughs, utterly pleased at my retort. His hand slides higher on my thigh, and he’s smiling as he looks over at the men. “One of you tell her.”

Kerren clears his throat. “Faith, have you not heard the story?”

“She has never asked,” Aron says, utterly amused.

Oh. He’s right, and I feel silly. Maybe I should have asked. All of his statues and his worshipers talk of a one-eyed Aron, but the man I’m with has two eyes. Aron’s smirking with pleasure like I’ve missed something obvious all along. “Am I going to hate this story?”

“Bah. It is a glorious story,” Aron says. “You will love it.”

“Thanks, Arrogance,” I tease, but I like his hand on my thigh. I want to shift my weight so that hand can slide a bit higher up. It’s so hard to try and stay still. “Okay, let’s hear it, then.”

Kerren pauses, then begins. “It happened many, many years ago, back when Old Suuol ruled the mid-lands.” When Aron nods, he continues, gaining confidence. “The great Lord of Storms was at war with Kalos, god of darkness, who had claimed the kingdom of Sollist for himself and enslaved their people. Old Suuol fought a glorious war against Sollist and the armies of darkness, but they were no match for Kalos and his ghouls. Aron led battle after battle, but the people of Suuol begged him to end the war. He went to the god Kalos and demanded that he free Sollist, but the dark god said he would end the war if given an ancient magical sword called Brightblade, which was once carried by the finest of heroes in the land.

“It seemed simple enough, but what Aron did not know was that the sword was hidden deep in the mountains, in the lair of Old One-Tooth, the most ancient of dragons.”

“Oops,” I say, and take Aron’s hand in mine. “And the dragon…temporarily blinded him? What?”

“No, I defeated him,” Aron says proudly, taking over the story. “Slew him with a single blow of my mighty axe. But then Rhagos interfered.”

“Rhagos?” I echo, then mentally go through the list of gods in my head. “God of…the Dead?”

“And Kalos’s brother,” Kerren adds. “He brought the dragon back to life and it attacked Aron once more.”

“Damned hard to kill something that won’t stay dead,” Aron says, all grumpiness. “That was when I lost my eye.”

I stare at his handsome mien, at the scars that crisscross the left side of his face, over the bright green eye. “How…”

“It is a lesser known legend, because Rhagos does not like for it to be told.” Aron grins fiercely. “After I delivered the sword to Kalos, I went to the underworld and took one of Rhagos’s eyes in repayment for the one I lost.”

I stare at Aron in horror. Is this why he’s got two different colored eyes?

“You did not know this?” He rubs his thumb over the back of my hand.

Wordlessly, I shake my head. For some reason, I don’t find the story funny or clever. It makes me ache for him. How hard it’s been for him. No wonder he doesn’t trust the other gods. Not after the loss of an eye…and stealing someone else’s. Yikes. “If other gods have treated you like this, how can you expect the Spidae to help you, Aron?”

He holds my thigh tightly, as if to reassure me. “Not all of the gods are enemies. Many would not dare to cross me.”

I think of Tadekha, and how she coyly suggested an alliance with Aron and he shot her down. He didn’t trust her in the slightest. “But you trust these gods? The Spidae?”

“They do not take sides.” He shrugs. “They will give me the answers I seek.”

“And that’s great, but what if your other Aspects have the same idea?”

Aron’s mouth forms a hard, hard smile. “Then we are all in the same place at one time.”

I push his hand off my thigh, because I’m suddenly no longer feeling very cuddly. “I really hope that’s just the arrogance talking, because I really, really don’t want to die, Aron.”

To my surprise, his eyes practically blaze with emotion. He hauls me against him, tighter than before, and the look on his face is fervent. “No one will touch you, Faith. I will never let you come to harm.”

I gaze up at him. “You can’t promise that. You have two other Aspects out to take you down. You can’t promise I’ll be safe, Aron. Not if I’m the target.”

His jaw clenches. I think for a moment that he’s going to argue with me, but instead, he jerks to his feet. Before I can protest, he’s carrying me away from the others and into our tent. Inside, it’s just as frosty, but a bed has been made for me on a linen tarp to protect from the mud, and it’s here that Aron sets me down gently. Aron kneels so we’re both on the ground, and then he cups my face, forcing me to look up at him.

“Faith,” he murmurs. “I know you’re worried. I know you feel isolated and alone. But I will never, ever let anything happen to you.”

“Because I’m tied to you,” I joke, nervous.

“Because you are mine,” he corrects. His fingers skate lightly along my cheeks. “My companion. My woman. My anchor. My Faith. I will protect your life with my own.”

“Aron.” I press my hands over his because I feel like he’s not grasping just how out of place I truly am. “My life is your own. It’s been tied to you since the moment I put my hand in yours. If I die, I don’t know what happens to me. You go back to your heaven, your Citadel of Storms, and I go…where? I don’t even know if my afterlife exists in this world. If you die, you’re just one step closer to your ultimate goal, but I’m destroyed utterly.”

He shakes his head. “Faith, you don’t understand. I will cease to exist if I die. All of who this Aspect is”—he gestures at his chest—“will be removed from who I am.”

“But you’ll still exist. Aron will still exist.”

“I won’t be the same. He won’t be the same. He won’t know what it means to make the rain stop for a starving farmer and his wife. He won’t know what it’s like to race away from a crumbling citadel and have glass picked out of his back. He won’t know what it’s like to hold you close.”

My breath catches in my throat.

He caresses my face. “I told you once that you’re my heart, Faith, and I mean it. You’ve shown me a different way of looking at things, and not just because you like to argue.” His hard mouth curls into a hint of a smile. “I learn from you. I learn to think about how my presence affects others. I think of how I can be a better god to my faithful. Every day that I am here on the mortal plane with you changes me, Faith. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you.” He smiles. “That’s why I’m going to win.”

For some reason, I’m equally terrified that Aron will die. I thought he was eternal…but Liar Aron got wiped out, and I know he’s different from this Aron.

My Aron could die.

“Well,” I say after a moment. I clear my throat. “I guess we’ll just have to fucking beat their asses into the ground.”

He laughs, pleased. “Now you sound like me.”

I’m pretty sure I don’t, but I’ll take the compliment anyhow.

I can’t sleep that night. It’s not the cold. It’s that every time I close my eyes, I see Aron dying. Aron turning into a wisp of sparks, Aron fading out like a bad polaroid. I saw it happen to his rival right in front of me. Liar Aron had his hands on me, was looking me in the eye…

And then he was just gone.

Ceased to exist.

I’m terrified of that happening to my Aron. Of course I’m worried about my own safety. That’s a given. But it’s a fear I’ve lived with for so long that I’m comfortable with it. It’s not new. It’s not fresh. My own safety is old news; Aron’s is increasingly worrying me.

If we don’t succeed, we’re both screwed.

Aron’s arm tightens around my waist. “Go to sleep, Faith. You need your rest.”

I do need my rest, because I’m his anchor. I’m his mortal tie to this plane. I have to keep myself healthy for the both of us. Even so… “I’m scared, Aron.”

He strokes my arm, comforting me. “If you were not, I would say you were a fool.”

Huh. No over-the-top declaration there. No arrogant posturing. Somehow, it makes me feel better. When I’m at his side, I feel safe. Like everything’s going to be okay even if we’re looking certain doom in the eye.

He makes me think maybe we do have a shot at this. We just have to be smart.

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