Free VirtualWarrior by Ann Lawrence Page A

shoulder.
    “Lien,” she said before he boosted her into the saddle.
“Again, I owe you my life.” The hood slid off her head. She looked disheveled
and weary.
    “I guess I’m not so completely useless, and you have a leaf
in your hair.”
    “I will not forget your help.” She lifted her hands, and ran
them through her hair, and plucked out the leaf. For a moment, she sat there,
the leaf between her fingers. “This is a rare find.” Then she extended it to
him. “Keep it. For luck.”
    The leaf was thick and glossy, shaped like a spade in a deck
of cards. It was odd. He saw no other trees nearby that had leaves shaped in
the same way. He shrugged and tucked it into his tunic.
    “Against your wound,” she said. “It comes from the Tree of
Valor. ‘Tis said the old ones used it to heal.”
    “Old ones?”
    “Aye. The old ones who once inhabited the forest. They
disappeared hundreds of conjunctions ago. Many say because they feared the
goddess.”
    His horse was led forward by Ollach, and Lien knew he was
going to have to mount up, sore ass or not. “So this goddess is immortal?” Right.
And fairies sing.
    “Nay, Lien. Each goddess trains her firstborn daughter to
carry on her evil.”
     
    Ardra posted two warriors, one in front and one behind, to
keep an exclusive watch overhead as they traveled on. Would it be enough? What
else might befall them? Luckily no one of theirs had been killed.
    Lien rode at her side, and it somehow seemed right to do so.
She now owed him twice for her life.
    “If there’s a daughter goddess, there must be a god
somewhere.”
    Ardra glanced at him. Curious marks were blooming across his
cheek. A puffiness distorted the fine line of his jaw. “A consort. Goddesses
take consorts. It is said that one may know him because he will be wearing the
goddess’s Black Eye.”
    “Black eye?”
    She saw him shift in the saddle. He appeared most
uncomfortable, yet did not complain. She recalled the blows he had sustained on
her behalf. Why had she not allowed him to remain behind?
    “Hello, Ardra? Black eye?” He did something with his fingers
and a sharp sound was produced.
    “How did you do that?” she asked.
    He looked down at his fingers and then up at her. “I just
snapped my fingers, nothing much.” He did it several times.
    “Show me,” she said. “‘Tis marvelous.”
    He demonstrated, and she tried repeatedly. Although she
succeeded in reproducing the sound, it did not match the sharpness of his.
Perhaps it was the stronger male hand that made the difference. Thoughts of his
hands and how they had held her hard against him as they hid in the tree roots
brought a sheen of sweat to her palms.
    “Ardra, now that you’ve unlocked that little secret, what’s
the black eye?”
    She snapped her fingers and laughed, then sobered. “Oh, the
Black Eye is a jewel. Unlike the amber and turquoise which are healing and
sacred, the Black Eye is considered cursed. Only the consort may wear it with
impunity. Only one such stone has ever been found in the many mines of the
chiefdoms.”
    She noticed her men watching her and realized she had given
Lien far too much of her attention. “I must move forward.”
    Lien nodded and muttered something under his breath when she
lifted her hand for more speed. She overtook the few men who separated her from
the forward guard.
    “Push the men faster, Ollach,” she ordered. “I do not wish
to meet with another disaster. Those men who attacked us—do you think they were
outcasts?”
    Ollach shrugged. “Most likely, mistress. If they had been
sent by the goddess, they would not have been so easily routed. We could have
used some archers.”
    “Aye. ‘Tis a pity Samoht would not allow us any.”
    “Forgive me, mistress, but is it wise to talk to the
pilgrim?” Ollach asked.
    “You forget your place,” she said.
    She wheeled her mount and moved back to a center position
next to the pilgrim to show Ollach he could not dictate her actions.