Page 20 of On a Barbarian World

Kavon strode through his halls, keeping a tight hold on Aurina’s hand. He was conscious of the curious looks she was receiving from his people.

He didn’t like it.

He didn’t want anyone looking at her.

He definitely wanted no one to see her naked, or wearing his bedsheet, but the clothes were hardly better. The soft leather cupped the sweet globes of her ass, and the top drew the eye to her amazing breasts.

Kavon wasn’t used to these unruly, possessive feelings. Women came and went. He had no time in his life, in his plan, for a woman like Aurina. He would get whatever knowledge she had that could help in his quest, and that would be it.

His gaze dropped to her. She was looking around eagerly, absorbing the details of his home. Well, perhaps a few nights in his bed were also in order, to douse this crazy need he felt growing for her.

He blew out a breath, and as they neared the great hall, he tried to focus on the unpleasant task ahead.

The room was packed with warriors and a few of his villagers. One woman was crying quietly in a row of seats, surrounded by family who were trying to soothe her.

Kavon strode to the front where his chair sat, elevated above the others on a small dais.

He sat, and Aurina looked around. “Ah, can I sit down there?” She nodded at some empty seats in the crowd.

“No.”

“Then where, barbarian?”

Kavon decided to get a little payback for the torment she’d caused him when she was dressing. “My lap.”

“What?” she squeaked. She thrust her hands on her hips and lowered her voice. “I’m not sitting on your lap.”

“Then at my feet.”

“I’m not sitting there, either.” She looked at the ceiling and appeared to be trying to control herself. After a second, she sat on the arm of his chair. “I’ll get revenge for this, barbarian.”

He felt a spurt of amusement, then he turned his attention to the large warrior lounging in the front row. As he took in the calm and unconcerned demeanor of the warrior, Kavon’s amusement fled.

Zaltoh was a problem Kavon should have dealt with a long time ago. He’d always had a bad attitude and Kavon had hoped, with time, he could have swayed Zaltoh to better beliefs. Kavon looked at the weeping woman and his gut hardened. He had erred, and the woman had paid the price.

“Zaltoh Mal Tarr, rise.”

The warrior did. He was tall, maybe an inch taller than Kavon. “Warlord.”

“You have been accused of attacking this woman against her will.”

There were murmurs among the crowd, and a heated shout from the woman’s family. Kavon held up a hand, and they quieted. He protected his people, and when he failed, he rectified his mistakes, but he wouldn’t tolerate people disobeying his orders. That led to anarchy, and to his people getting hurt.

“She was willing.” Zaltoh smirked and glanced at his fellow warriors in the seats nearby. “When she saw the size of my personal sword, she panicked. Most women do.” His smug gaze moved past Kavon, landing speculatively on Aurina.

“Look at me only,” Kavon said, his voice lethally quiet.

Zaltoh jerked, his smile slipping.

“As warriors, we are committed to the warrior’s code.”

“I am a good warrior. A good fighter,” the accused man insisted.

“You are a good fighter,” Kavon agreed. “But you have failed to be a good warrior. What is the first part of our oath, Zaltoh?”

The big man had gone a little pale. “To protect.”

“To protect whom?”