Trouble was, the harder he rode, thedeeper the stallion’s hooves pounded Fulrad’s vile words and Lara’sflushed cheeks and flashing eyes into his brain.Talon couldn’twait to send the damned drunkard packing.His only qualm would besetting him upon his poor horse.The rangy bay was a foul-temperedbeast, but Talon had always put that on Fulrad, for he’d seldomseen a horse go mean for lack of reason.
Lack of reason was certainly what hewas suffering from, keeping that thorny beauty in his bedchambernight after night.Despite what he’d told her in the tent the nightof Mallus, he did want her, badly.He’d hoped the more he wasaround her, the more he’d get used to her and the less he’d wanther, but the opposite had happened.Every time he so much as lookedat her or thought about her, which was about a thousand times aday, he wanted her.It was driving him mad.She was driving himmad.
He sent the Black straight at a jumphe could make in his sleep, yet even in his sleep he dreamt ofLara.He looked up to where she sat on the windowsill, the creamyoval of her face framed by her wild mane of auburn curls.Curlsthat smelled of rose that he itched to bury his nose in and run hisfingers through.The Black pushed off his powerful haunches, andTalon leaned over his withers as the stallion took the jump.Midjump, Talon glanced up at the window.Next thing he knew, theBlack shied right, and he was sailing over the stallion’s head,tumbling head over ass as he hit the ground and cracking hisforehead on something hard.He lay there as the world spun aroundhim until he could see one cloud in the sky where there’d beenthree and then two, then he pushed himself up to sitting, holdinghis head with both hands as the world resumed its spinning.Something warm and sticky coated his left hand and he lowered it.Blood smeared his palm.His blood.He considered standing, thendecided to sit a while longer.
“Captain?”He tried tolift his head and squinted to see who it was that called him, thenclosed his eyes against the too-bright glare of the sun.“Talon,lad, you all right?”
Only Anglbert called Talon lad.Heraised a hand in answer, knowing the pain his own voice would causehim.
“He’s alive, at least,”another voice, Phillipe’s, said.But it was a woman’s sandaled footthat stopped toe to toe with his boot.
“Captain?”Lara loomedover him, blocking the sun so he was able to look up at her.Sheleaned down and gently touched a fingertip to his forehead.“You’vegot a nasty gash on your head.Which happens when you butt headswith a rock.”
“Good thing it was myhead, then, eh?”Talon managed to croak out, and she laughed anddidn’t disagree as a pounding pulsed from his forehead to his crownand down his neck.She pressed a cloth to his wound, and he noticedher bag of medicines at her feet.“How did you come to bring yourbag?”
“I saw youfall.”
“Oh.Indeed.”
Wolf sniffed his boot where his bloodhad dripped onto the toe, and Talon reached out to pet his head andmissed.He heard men’s laughter as Anglbert and Phillipe reacheddown and grabbed him underarm.
“Slowly, slowly,” Laratold them as they lifted Talon to his feet.Concerned hazel eyesstared into his, and Talon was glad to see there were only two ofthem.“Can you stand on your own?”she asked him.
He shifted his feet into a widestance, braced his legs, and shook off Anglbert and Phillipe.“Ican stand.”He took a step, then another.“And walk.”He wobbledover to the Black, who was holding his right front leg up.Talonstarted to bend over to take a closer look but had to stop as thepounding in his head turned into the loud rushing of blood.Bracinghimself against the stallion’s shoulder, he slowly straightened andsurveyed the distance back to the stables.
“You know, friend,”Anglbert said loudly enough to make Talon wince, “Talon reallyshould be wearing his helmet and gloves if he’s going to go aroundfalling off that mule of his.”
“That he should, friend.”Phillipe smirked.“But then that is the very devil of it, for I’venever known him to fall off anything with four legs before, evenwith a horde of bloodthirsty Saracens trying to knock himoff.”
“Nor I.”Anglbert eyedTalon.“’Tis the curse.He worsens daily with it.”
“Aye,” Phillipe saidsolemnly.“It’s the curse, poor bastard.”
“What curse?”Lara glancedamongst the three of them, innocent of their game.But Talonwasn’t.He knew exactly what Phillipe and Anglbert were playingat.
“It’s the curse of twobraying asses forever at my ears,” he growled.He took the Black’sreins and stumbled toward the stables.
“Take care, lady,”Phillipe called out as Lara followed him and the Black.“He can bea cursed grump.”
“Cursed is right,” Talongrumbled as he led the limping stallion away.Cursed and damned bythe sway of those very skirts following him.
CHAPTER 8
Scars
Lara
“Sit.”Lara pointed thecaptain toward the stool outside of the Black’s stall as Denysstabled the stallion.Wolf came sniffing in behind them.
A groan escaped the captain’s pressedlips as he sat and leaned his head back against the wall, eyesclosed.His sun-bronzed cheeks were paler than usual, with brightpink spots in the middle, and a fine sheen of sweat glistened onhis nose and forehead.Wolf lay down at his feet as Lara let thecaptain rest for the time it took Denys to finish setting the Blackup in his stall and another stable boy to bring the two buckets ofwater she’d asked for, one of which she set down beside the captainand the other in the stall with the Black.She pulled a stool overto sit facing the captain and dug into her bag for a washing clothand tubs of cleansing and knitting balms.
“Captain?”He opened aneye and peered up at her.“I’m going to wash the blood from yourwound.”She dipped the cloth into the bucket of water.He gave herthe slightest of nods and closed his eye.“I’ll try to begentle.”
He sighed.“I’m sure youwill.”
Lara wasn’t quite sure if he wasteasing her or not but decided to let it go.She wiped the dryingblood from a gash over his left eyebrow that was an inch in lengthbut shallow enough it wouldn’t need stitches, then rinsed the clothand dipped a corner of it into the cleansing balm and gently washedthe skin around the wound.She wiped the soapy balm away and thensat back, letting the wound air dry.“Well.You’ll soon haveanother scar for your collection.”
Both eyes now open, he peered up ather, though the flesh around his left eye was already starting toswell.“My collection?”He offered a more lopsided grin than hisusual.They both knew he’d caught her watching him strip down tohis breechcloth before bed a dozen times at least.“What collectionwould that be?”
