Page 47 of The Last Warrior

He smiled. “So you are, when it suits you.”

She overlooked this last statement. “Very well. I do not mean to pry, and if you are not at your ease, do not feel obligated to tell me. But I promise that if you do, I will listen.”

“And will you promise me this, as well? You will not think I am mad?”

“I promise. Besides, in my society, husbands and wives share their hopes and desires, and their plights. Because we are husband and wife, it is only fitting I should be the one you tell.”

Even in the dark, she could see he eyed her suspiciously, as though he would like to read her mind. She could feel the intensity of his scrutiny, and she lifted her chin a little because of it.

At length, he said, “Very well. The truth is I am at war with he who has ruined my life and the lives of my people. It is he whom I fight, he who is the Thunderer.”

For a moment, Suzette felt as though she had left this world for another more mystical place, so strange were the images his words invoked. But she had promised not to think ill of him, so she merely said, “You do battle with the Thunderer? Who is the Thunderer?”

Black Lion was silent for so long Suzette began to wonder if he would ever answer. In due time, he paced toward her and came to stand above her. It seemed again as though he debated with himself, and it was a long moment, indeed, before Black Lion sank onto the ground beside her. “It is hard for me to tell you what you are asking me to disclose to you, even though you are my wife, for this war I fight is dear to my heart. But if I do share with you what troubles me, which you say is often the way of married people, I would ask you not tell another soul what it is I relate to you.”

She didn’t answer. Her throat had become suddenly tight, for it did appear she might have earned his trust.

“Do you think you can do this? That, with this secret I am about to tell you, you will keep it forever in your heart?”

She swallowed. “Yes. I promise.”

“And do you, like the real wife you speak of, seek to relieve my spirit and share my troubles?”

Suzette nodded. “I do. Though I may never lie with you in the marriage bed, I will try to be a wife to you in other ways. In truth, it seems the least I can do. You are, after all, sharing my troubles, and you have relieved my burden. If I could do the same for you, I would try.”

He paused. “Waste, good. Give me your hand, then, for it is dark here, and if I am to tell you the secrets of my soul, I would know the touch of she with whom I have entrusted my heart.”

Suzette hesitated barely a second, then dutifully held out her gloved hand to him, which he took within his own. His hand was bare, and the knowledge of his touch, as well as his warmth against her, sent her pulse into an erratic beat.

He said, “May I slip off your glove so my skin may touch yours?”

It was no more than one hand against another, nothing to excite her. Except that it did. She nodded and whispered, “Yes.”

One finger at a time, he pulled the glove completely from her hand. The action was seductive, whether he meant it to be or not. He offered the glove back to her, which she accepted immediately. As soon as her bare palm touched his, she knew she was in trouble, for a cascade of lightning-fast charges surged up and down her nerves.

And the place most private to her, there between her legs, answered in the age-old feminine way. She ached there.

Holding her hand with both of his, he said, “Very well, I will tell you of my people and of the Thunderer. I warn you again about my fear you will not believe me. You will say I lie. Yet, every word from my mouth will be the truth.”

She nodded. For the moment, her voice failed her.

He continued, “It happened long ago, many thousands of years ago.”

“Thousands?”

“Shhh. I have already said you will not believe me. Let me tell you the story without interruption, for there will be many times you will wish to do so.”

Again, she nodded. Staring up at the handsome image of him, as the moon and shadows washed over the hills and valleys of his complexion, she found herself not only seduced by his nearness, but enchanted with the vitality which was his alone.

“It happened long ago,” he started again, his voice low and soothing. He went on, telling her of the being he referred to as the Thunderer, speaking of his own people who were imprisoned in a mist, telling her of the Creator’s promise to give his people a chance to end the curse, and of the boys chosen to go out into the world to do so.

When at last he finished, she was silent as she tried to digest what he had said. She realized he was right. She didn’t really believe him.

But it didn’t matter what she thought. The point was that he believed it…and she had come to trust him. “Are you one of those boys who was chosen to end the curse?”

“I am.”

“And so the task, the one which imperils you, is to free your people?”