Read Online Warrior's Lady by Amanda Ashley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Amanda Ashley
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but…” She shrugged again. “I was young and foolish. One day I went for a walk and I just kept walking.
“When I reached the foothills, I saw Gar and Thai. They were hunting. I had never seen any of the Fen close up, so I hid behind a tree to watch. A short while later, Gar chased a wounded stag into the trees where I was hiding. When the stag saw me, it turned. Its horn caught Gar in the stomach. I started to run away, back up the mountain, but I couldn’t leave him there. He was bleeding and in pain and I was drawn to him. His was the first serious wound I had ever seen. While I was healing him, Thai came up behind me. There was no way for me to escape.”
“Did they ever…did they hurt you?”
“No. Gar was very grateful that I had saved his life, but not grateful enough to let me go. They kept me with them for a while, then, eager to return to the Games, they sold me to the Pavilion.”
They rode in silence for a time. Jarrett tried to think about the home of the Maje, but all he could think of was Leyla. His arm was around her waist and he could feel her warmth, her every breath, through the thin fabric of her dress. The scent of her hair, of woman, filled his nostrils.
He had to get away from her, at least for a few minutes. A shallow pool offered the perfect excuse for a rest. Reining the stallion to a halt, he slid to the ground. Turning, he lifted Leyla from the saddle and quickly let her go.
“We’ll rest here awhile,” he said.
Leyla nodded. It was a lovely spot. The pool was shaded by tall trees, surrounded by large, leafy ferns and red midnight flowers.
“Shall we take Second Meal here?” she asked.
“If you wish.”
She looked at him for a moment, trying to see what he was thinking, but his mind was closed to her. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Fix the meal. I’m going to look around.”
Without waiting for her reply, he turned on his heel and walked away, needing to put some space between them. She had bewitched him, he thought, beguiled him so completely he could think of nothing but her, the shape of her mouth, the texture of her hair, the color of her eyes, the sound of her voice. Never had he craved a woman’s touch as he craved hers.
He walked steadily onward, following a narrow path into a grove of tall trees. As he moved deeper into the forest, his hand moved instinctively toward his sword. Years of training as a warrior rose within him, making him cautious. He found a measure of relief in the simple exercise of walking. It was a good feeling, being able to come and go as he pleased, to see the sun. The newness of it, after eight months of captivity, still had the power to excite him. His arms and legs, freed of the constant restriction of the shackles, felt light as air.
He drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent of earth and trees and grass. The world looked new, brighter, somehow. He touched the rough bark of a tree, stooped to pick a wildflower. Pausing, he listened to the warbling of a bird.
He was alive. Alive and well, because of Leyla.
The mere thought of her filled him with warmth. Eight months of captivity. Eight months of torture and darkness. Eight months without a woman…and now he was free, and the one woman he wanted was forever out of reach.
Leyla. The pain of wanting her, of knowing she would never be his, made him ache deep inside.
With a sigh, he turned and retraced his steps toward the pool.
He paused when he reached the edge of the forest, all his senses suddenly alert. His gaze swept their campsite. All seemed well. Leyla was sitting on a tree stump, her back toward him. The stallion was grazing on a patch of grass.
But something wasn’t right.
He looked at Leyla again, at the rigid set of her spine. Eyes narrowed, ears straining, he watched and listened. And then he heard it, the faint creak of saddle leather off to the left.
Drawing his sword, he waited in the shadows, knowing that death awaited whoever made the first
“When I reached the foothills, I saw Gar and Thai. They were hunting. I had never seen any of the Fen close up, so I hid behind a tree to watch. A short while later, Gar chased a wounded stag into the trees where I was hiding. When the stag saw me, it turned. Its horn caught Gar in the stomach. I started to run away, back up the mountain, but I couldn’t leave him there. He was bleeding and in pain and I was drawn to him. His was the first serious wound I had ever seen. While I was healing him, Thai came up behind me. There was no way for me to escape.”
“Did they ever…did they hurt you?”
“No. Gar was very grateful that I had saved his life, but not grateful enough to let me go. They kept me with them for a while, then, eager to return to the Games, they sold me to the Pavilion.”
They rode in silence for a time. Jarrett tried to think about the home of the Maje, but all he could think of was Leyla. His arm was around her waist and he could feel her warmth, her every breath, through the thin fabric of her dress. The scent of her hair, of woman, filled his nostrils.
He had to get away from her, at least for a few minutes. A shallow pool offered the perfect excuse for a rest. Reining the stallion to a halt, he slid to the ground. Turning, he lifted Leyla from the saddle and quickly let her go.
“We’ll rest here awhile,” he said.
Leyla nodded. It was a lovely spot. The pool was shaded by tall trees, surrounded by large, leafy ferns and red midnight flowers.
“Shall we take Second Meal here?” she asked.
“If you wish.”
She looked at him for a moment, trying to see what he was thinking, but his mind was closed to her. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Fix the meal. I’m going to look around.”
Without waiting for her reply, he turned on his heel and walked away, needing to put some space between them. She had bewitched him, he thought, beguiled him so completely he could think of nothing but her, the shape of her mouth, the texture of her hair, the color of her eyes, the sound of her voice. Never had he craved a woman’s touch as he craved hers.
He walked steadily onward, following a narrow path into a grove of tall trees. As he moved deeper into the forest, his hand moved instinctively toward his sword. Years of training as a warrior rose within him, making him cautious. He found a measure of relief in the simple exercise of walking. It was a good feeling, being able to come and go as he pleased, to see the sun. The newness of it, after eight months of captivity, still had the power to excite him. His arms and legs, freed of the constant restriction of the shackles, felt light as air.
He drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the scent of earth and trees and grass. The world looked new, brighter, somehow. He touched the rough bark of a tree, stooped to pick a wildflower. Pausing, he listened to the warbling of a bird.
He was alive. Alive and well, because of Leyla.
The mere thought of her filled him with warmth. Eight months of captivity. Eight months of torture and darkness. Eight months without a woman…and now he was free, and the one woman he wanted was forever out of reach.
Leyla. The pain of wanting her, of knowing she would never be his, made him ache deep inside.
With a sigh, he turned and retraced his steps toward the pool.
He paused when he reached the edge of the forest, all his senses suddenly alert. His gaze swept their campsite. All seemed well. Leyla was sitting on a tree stump, her back toward him. The stallion was grazing on a patch of grass.
But something wasn’t right.
He looked at Leyla again, at the rigid set of her spine. Eyes narrowed, ears straining, he watched and listened. And then he heard it, the faint creak of saddle leather off to the left.
Drawing his sword, he waited in the shadows, knowing that death awaited whoever made the first
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