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He lifted his lips and wiped the blood off with a handkerchief.
Egidius came out of the cave yawning. "Well? Have you made a decision?"
"I need Beth a little longer."
"Thank gods," Beth murmured. "I wasn't ready to die."
"You're giving her too much free speech," observed Laetus.
"She has none in front of outsiders. Find a vein and breakfast before we
leave."
* * * *
Malthus sat on a bench in the chieftain's garden watching the children play.
It had become a daily ritual. Merissa sat beside him, her hand on the cold
stone, and his hand covering hers. She allowed him that much without pulling
away from him, but she still refused to give him more. Today she was very
unhappy with him.
"I don't care what kind of woman Beth is," Merissa repeated. "You must be
blunt with her. If you are going to keep seeing me."
"Merissa..." Malthus lowered his head in shame. "I keep telling her that."
"Then you are not being firm enough."
"I don't want to hurt her."
"What about me? You're hurting me. If you are going to continue seeing me,
then you must stop seeing Beth."
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Malthus let his shoulders sag. "So be it. I will stop seeing her except in
public on matters pertaining to the camp." He brought her hand to his lips and
kissed her fingers. "You are too precious ... too dear to me. I won't let
anything or anyone make you unhappy."
"Malthus..." Her tone softened.
Malthus leaned in with her fingers on his lips until only her fingers
remained between her lips and his. Then he drew her hand slowly down until his
lips pressed hers. His other hand slipped to the back of her head as he parted
her lips and kissed her deeply.
* * * *
Nikko went looking for Shalto and Oswyl. He missed Tempest and, with the
death of the old priest, had no one to really advise him. At nineteen, Nikko
was the youngest lawgiver the lycans had had in their extensive history. He
had shouldered the burden at sixteen when Nevin left abruptly with his
spirit-brother Isranon. Nikko knew all of the laws with the perfect memory of
one who had trained since childhood by reciting them. He knew the cases and
histories of the clan. Because of Tempest and Nevin, he was also literate,
unlike three-quarters of his people. Yet, he didn't always know how to proceed
on some matters.
He wanted to know how the rumors about Beth had started and when she had
begun seducing half the village. It troubled him because he had grown up
around her, and part of him could not let go of his memories of her as a warm,
soft, comforting presence that he could curl up with when he was a cub. He
used to play in the field where the camp was now. Beth always licked the blood
off his skinned knees, cuddled him when he cried because the older children
played rougher. It was Beth he had gone to when Nevin left, and Nikko felt
overwhelmed by his responsibilities.
The image of Beth as a slut who could not get enough jarred painfully
against his memories. If she had been a slut before, surely someone would have
noticed it, surely he would have noticed it. Certainly, Nevin would have told
him before he left. Sluts were troublemakers, whether they were male or
female. And then there was that newcomer, Malthus, who seemed to exert an
uncanny influence over Beth. He could not help but notice the unseemly
adoration in her eyes for the mon, and the way he failed to reciprocate it.
All of his instincts were screaming that Malthus was trouble.
He went to the Difficult Horse Tavern. Hereward always kept the lamps either
off or turned down in the daytime to keep the dark interior cooler during the
summer. It took Nikko's eyes a moment to adjust.
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"Can I get ya somethin' nice, Lawgiver?" Hereward the taverner shouted.
Nikko shook his head as he scanned the room. "No, thanks, Hereward. I'm
looking for someone."
He spied Shalto and Oswyl having a tankard of mead at their favorite corner
table. Nikko strode over, put his palms on their table, and loomed over them.
"I want to talk to you both. Now. Outside. Or I'll have you both arrested."
Shalto looked up, his brows knitting. "We didn't do anything!"
Sensing trouble, Hereward laid his big club on the bar and eyed them. The
club had silver spikes circling the top, making it a nasty weapon. "Do what
the mon says."
Oswyl raised his hands in a fending off gesture. "I don't know what has you
upset, but I'll cooperate."
Shalto, seeing he would get no support from his cousin, and fearing
Hereward, gave a quick relenting nod before following Nikko out of the tavern
behind Oswyl.
"Now what is this about?" Shalto asked.
"Beth."
"I don't know what's got your hackles up there. I heard you were getting
your share," Shalto said.
"I haven't touched Beth and you shouldn't be either. Something's not right
about all this."
Shalto settled his shoulders against the wall of the Difficult Horse, arms
crossed. "Everyone was talking about it. So we decided to get our share."
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A flush of anger swept Nikko and he started to shake, which startled him
because he had never been that upset before. He grabbed Shalto by the collar
and jerked him hard enough to stagger him. "You stay away from Beth. Tell the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]