Page 9 of Tashama
Her skin touched his briefly, and the warmth from his touch made her shudder. He was her enemy, and yet, she desirednothing more than to have his lips pressed hard against hers.What spell is it that binds me to you, prince of Maldovia?
“It appears to have some kind of a clasp. Our head jeweler can examine the bracelets and tell us how they’ve done such a thing.”
Aleron shook his head when she dropped the second bracelet into his greedy palm. He pocketed the bracelets into a leather pouch tied to his belt, then touched Tashama’s cheek where dried blood crusted in a streak. His fingers lingered longer than was proper, and Carissian frowned at the gesture.
The prince quickly dropped his hand, then turned to his personal guard. “Acholuria, bring me my sword and yours, too.”
His guard disappeared into the prince’s bedchambers, while Carissian asked, “What do you propose to do, my lord?”
“I’m curious about this warrior woman. Would she fight as well as a man? I would think not.” He took a deep breath and studied the Karthlander, an enemy of his people. How could she be a menace to him, Ruler of all Maldovia? Women were meant to provide a man pleasure, nothing more. How could she be a danger?
Still, Carissian had never been wrong before. She clasped her hands together. She appeared so hardened, so unbending, and yet, there was a sweet softness about her. Did she give this other outward appearance because she feared him?
Acholuria reappeared with swords in hand, and after offering Aleron’s jewel-encrusted sword to him, he waited for further instruction.
“Give her your sword, Acholuria.” Aleron pointed his sword at her chest.
Carissian cleared his throat. “Do you think it wise?—”
“Do it!”
The guard handed his ivory-handled sword to Tashama, but when she folded her arms in response, Aleron laughed. “Make her take it!”
Acholuria grabbed Tashama’s arm, but she cried out in pain, and he glanced back at Aleron. The prince rubbed his chin and considered her disheveled appearance. “Perhaps our healer should?—”
Carissian shook his head. “The Karthlander’s healer should see to the woman. However, from what I can see, her injuries are negligible.”
The prince nodded and motioned for his guard to get on with the task. Acholuria shoved the sword into Tashama’s hand. Aleron readied his sword while he planted his feet apart and raised his free hand slightly in the air. She frowned at him and dropped the sword on the marble floor with a resounding clatter.
The prince stared at her for a moment, not believing she wouldn’t even try to fight him. “She’s no threat to me.” The prince handed his sword to Acholuria. “If she wishes to presume to be a warrior, house her with the rest of her kind. A woman like that would not be worthy for a prince to bed.”
“Would sending her to the prison camp be wise, my lord?” Carissian considered her appearance. “A woman amongst all those men and dressed as provocatively as she is…”
“She is dangerous—so you say. What else am I to do with her, Carissian?”
“She’ll be even more dangerous to you there, I predict.”
“I would bed the wench if she were a Maldovian.” He folded his arms. “Perhaps she should stay in the tower in case the witch invades my dreams tonight.” He reached over and stroked her jaw with his fingertips.
When she fisted her hand and tried to strike him in the chin, he quickly caught her wrist. “Then she could relieve my anxiety,when the other cannot.” He laughed, released her, and motioned to Carissian. “Take her away to the enemy prison camp.”
Blackness blanketedthe region when Tashama rode on horseback to the walled-in tent village, confining over a hundred Karthlander soldiers. She studied the prisoners sitting about the small campfires scattered about the campsite. Eerie twisting fingers of light crept into the shadows while the fragrance of burning hickory scented the air.
Oshon motioned to his officer, who, in response, grabbed Tashama’s arm and threw her to the ground. She landed on her backside with a thud and stifled a cry.
“Rot here with the rest of your compatriots,” Oshon scowled, then turned his horse with the other and headed beyond the gates, their horses clip-clopping out of camp. For the first time since her nightmare had begun, she felt truly afraid.
“Balthazar, how could you have forsaken me?” She took a deep breath. She hadn’t remembered the war. He was right in saying she had to lead their people to victory, but…
She shook her head when her thoughts reverted to the palace of Banff. Even now, she could see Aleron’s dark eyes studying hers. What magic was his that he used to hold her hostage?
Tashama pulled her torn sleeves down over her arms, the lacerations now burning in the cool breeze. She remained seated in the dark, afraid to move from the small comfort she drew from the deep shadows. She cringed at the sound of the crunching of boots on the graveled path that headed in her direction.
She shivered from the cold when more boots tromped her way, but couldn’t force herself to get up and move away from the menacing sound of their footfalls.
4
“What is it?” a gruff man asked, leaning down to look at Tashama. She shrank deeper into the shadows.
