Free Fire Hawk by Justine Dare Justine Davis

accept his answer.
    So he must find some other way of ridding himself of her.
    ’Twas too bad; she really was quite lovely.
    But she had to go. And he would do whatever it took to see that she did.

Chapter 5
    “A BLOODSUCKING gnat could take lessons from you,” Kane muttered wearily. “I have never encountered a more persistent creature. Can you not see my answer is final? Will you not give up?”
    “I cannot give up,” Jenna said simply, staring into the fire.
    He knew that her persistence was driven by desperation and fed by her love for her people, but he told himself firmly it mattered not to him.
    “ ’Tis pointless.”
    “Even so,” she said.
    He tossed the bone he’d cleaned of meat into the fire. He had returned late this afternoon, knowing he looked like a man who had passed a night in hell. He had passed a night in hell, a personal hell of his own making. Jenna had given him a look tinged with an unexpected compassion, a look that made him very wary because of his own equally unexpected response to it. And because he had no idea why she would have the slightest bit of kind feeling for him.
    Without speaking, she’d set about preparing a meal of the remaining rabbit. He’d not commented upon her industry, had merely sat and eaten in silence.
    She, on the other hand, had used his silence to her advantage, trying once more to persuade him to help her save her people.
    “They cannot hide in the village, relying on the glade’s protection forever. Many of our fields are outside the protection. We must plant crops soon, or there will be starvation this winter.”
    “Does not your magical forest take care of all your needs?” he asked, a tinge of derision in his tone.
    “It helps those who help themselves,” she retorted. “It does not do the work; it merely provides a greater yield from a smaller amount of land.”
    “Can they not simply hunt in bands, for protection?”
    “We do not hunt. Not with weapons. We have none. We build traps, snares, for the game we need. There was never a need to store more than a winter’s worth. There was always more.”
    Kane shook his head. “Helpless flock. No wonder some warlord saw them as easy prey.”
    “Only because they have never needed to deal with such things.”
    He shrugged. “Leave. Flee to safety.”
    “We cannot leave our home place.”
    He grimaced. “Life is precious and short. The land is eternal, and cares not that men die for it.”
    “But Hawk Glade is a sacred place, the history and very heart of our people resides there.” She saw in his expression what he thought of such foolishness, but she went on doggedly. “But soon they will have to venture out past the safety of Hawk Glade. And when they do they will be slaughtered.”
    “I will not fight again. For you, or anyone else.”
    She looked at him for a silent moment before she asked, “Even for yourself?”
    “Especially for myself.”
    She shivered, as if something in his voice had made her feel the coldness he carried with him every day of his life. She turned away from the fire to look at him.
    “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But I cannot give up. The lives of my people depend on me—”
    “That is your problem.”
    “Yes. And my responsibility. Don’t you see, that is why I must convince you—”
    “You will not.” He looked at her. She met his gaze steadily, determinedly. After a moment he shook his head wonderingly. “I will confess, although you are tormenting me to distraction, I admire your tenacity. That you are even here in this place speaks well of you. ’Tis not an easy place to find or reach.”
    “I know,” she said ruefully. Then, sliding him a sideways glance, she added, “And I must thank you for your care of me. Feeling as you do, it was most . . . generous.”
    It was not hard to follow her thoughts. He could almost see her thinking that surely a man who could be generous about such a thing was not yet lost to humane feeling. Thinking