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She shook her head. ‘There is a lot to be done before I sleep. The men will need food for a start. Someone will need to make certain the horses are secure and fed. The fire will have to be started. Food cooked.’
‘My men look after their own needs. It is understood.’ He straightened her hood. ‘You will do no one any favours if you try to keep awake. It is when accidents happen, Kara. The last thing we need is you getting injured. You look half-dead.’
She made an annoyed noise. ‘You know how to make a woman feel special.’
Ash regarded her soft hair and creamy skin. She looked exhausted, but utterly delectable. It was all he could do to keep from gathering her into his arms again and kissing her thoroughly. Patience, rather than force. He had to prove himself to her. ‘I was under the impression that you preferred the unvarnished truth these days. Shall I pay compliments instead?’
‘The truth is preferable to compliments which you’ve paid to a hundred other women.’
Ash ignored the ‘hundred other women’ remark. He couldn’t remember any other women. He certainly had not had one while he’d been away. It had been easier to keep his focus that way. ‘I’ll remember that, but you mustn’t complain if the truth is not to your liking.’
She tilted her head to one side. ‘Are you certain your men know how to make a proper camp? Some of them appear quite desperate.’
Ash cast a practised eye over his men—a diverse bunch of men and not pretty to look at, but they were good men to have in a fight. ‘Warriors, pledged to me. If they didn’t know their business, I wouldn’t have them.’
‘But so many of them.’
‘Safety in numbers.’ Over the years, he’d learnt that there was value in numbers. On his way to Sand, he’d laid careful plans—make his peace with his king and his father before going to the east and finding new trade routes. The money he planned to make there would have paid for another estate as he refused to live under the same roof as his father. But now with the problem with his uncle, he was glad of his men. They’d keep Kara and Rurik safe, should anything happen to him.
He had charged his best oarsmen and a handful of his men with the task of bringing the boat upriver. Right now, he wanted to see how his uncle would respond to the division. Would he chase after him or go after the ship?
The departure from Sand had gone far too smoothly. Ash distrusted smooth. His uncle would show his hand. Soon.
‘Viken warriors?’ She put her hand over her mouth. ‘Does the king approve?’
‘Men without a country, but with strong sword arms and a keen will to fight. I know what it feels like to be without a country and we’ve fought together in the past.’
He waited for her to understand why he refused to leave these men behind and why he needed them now. But the last thing he wanted was to give Kara an excuse to leave him or bar him from Jaarlshiem. He would claim his son and he would keep his inheritance. And he would show Kara that he was the sort of hero whom she’d dreamt about.
‘Sell-swords.’ Her lip curled about the word. ‘And you think our son will be safe with them?’
‘You say sell-sword like it is a dirty word. It is best to be honest about why you are fighting for a particular side. Coin is a wonderful motivator. Far better than glory.’
He looked over her shoulder at the darkened hut. Its door gaped open, but there was no one inside. All was silent. He forced his shoulders to relax. The ambush would not come from the hut.
‘Can you trust a sell-sword?’
‘I was a sell-sword until very recently,’ he said bluntly. ‘I find such men to be pragmatic. The ones who pretend to fight for lofty ideals and principles or simply for the joy of killing are the ones you need to be wary of. Men who fight for money know what fills an empty belly. They also know when to stop. I’ll have no berserkers under my command. You can’t control them. I learnt it to my cost.’
The sleep fled from Kara. She looked at each of the men with new eyes. They were harder and more desperate than she had first considered. They fairly bristled with menace and scars. And Ash? Did he remain a hardened sell-sword? Or did the gentle boy she remembered lurk under everything? How would he react when he met Rurik? Rurik needed kindness and a steady hand rather than blows and harsh words.
Her hands curled into fists. One used hardened sell-swords to raid and to conquer. Earlier she’d overheard several of them complaining that they missed the sea and couldn’t wait to get back to their ship. Proof if she needed it that Ash intended to go raiding again, rather than staying to farm.
