Chapter 5
Five
ZAKAI
No amount of shoving was going to get the barbarian to move.
He was like an unmovable mountain. I cursed again the time I’d spent dodging my lessons.
I’d had only a few days of hand-to-hand combat training; when Hameed dumped me on my ass for the seventh time, I gave up.
I hadn’t thought I needed it when I always had a guard with me, and it was humiliating just how easily he bested me.
The barbarian took my elbows, urging me backward.
There wasn’t much to the tent. The only thing behind me was the bed, which was only a pallet of blankets on the floor, and I sure as hell wasn’t going there with him.
I kicked and slapped as much as I was able, doing my best to slip around him, but he was bigger than me and more skilled, and eventually, he forced me onto the bed.
Instead of climbing on top of me like I expected, he sat in front of me, legs crossed, his voice soft as he spoke to me.
He pointed at the bed, then made a staying motion with his hand, like he was trying to soothe me. I scoffed.
“You truly expect me to believe I am safe here? I’ve heard the rumors. If you try to touch me in this way, I will have my guards remove your balls and string you up—”
He put a finger to my lips, shocking me enough to silence me. Had he seriously just done that?
He said something in his language, gesturing to the bed and shaking his head. Then he pointed to me, then himself, then the bed again and shook his head. Was he trying to tell me he wouldn’t touch me?
“Why should I believe you?” I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest. I didn’t think he understood me—none had thus far—but I wasn’t one to stay silent. If my words bothered him, he could remove the restraints and let me go.
Whether my body language or my expression showed my distrust, he seemed intent on showing me he could be trusted. He put a hand on his chest, his words slow and calm, then reached for my hands, squeezing gently.
It was… strange. I had expected violence and callousness from the barbarian clans I’d heard such terrible rumors about.
Abdul had shared the stories with me when I noticed a few at the brothel when we visited the first time.
The towns had treaties with them to ensure their safety throughout the year.
Before the treaty, the barbarians would kidnap women, rape and pillage, leaving towns decimated whenever they passed through.
Had the clans settled after getting a steady stream of tributes like they wanted?
Or was Abdul exaggerating to keep me away from them?
They were sexy, even I could admit that.
Large, thickly muscled, and dangerous looking.
Combined with a gentle nature, they would be almost irresistible if the way the barbarian was acting turned out not to be an act.
Abdul knew my parents’ intention to have me wed, and he was well aware of my interest in men.
If he wanted to keep me away from the barbarians, it wouldn’t surprise me that he would exaggerate.
Now that I wasn’t actively fighting him, his expression was less severe, more patient.
He stuck to gestures, mimicking sleep and pointing at the bed again.
I was tired—I didn’t sleep much during the four-day journey here—but I was worried that if I laid down, I would be giving him permission to touch me in a way I didn’t want.
But it was either lying down or trying to sleep sitting up.
I wouldn’t be able to resist the siren song of sleep for much longer.
I followed his lead in removing my boots and allowed him to nudge me into the spot next to the wall of the tent.
He laid beside me but didn’t reach for me, leaning long enough to extinguish the lantern on the small table and getting comfortable on his back next to me.
I purposely evened out my breathing, pretending to sleep to see what he would do, but when he didn’t reach for me, I lost the battle with fatigue and fell asleep.
I woke in the morning wrapped around the barbarian like an octopus.
He hadn’t moved from his position on his back, which meant the breach of contact was all me.
I would be embarrassed if he woke before me.
I didn’t often sleep next to someone. I hadn’t realized I’d seek him out.
In my defense, it was freezing overnight, and he was warm.
My mostly unconscious mind probably moved me closer to the warmth so I wouldn’t wake up shaking.
Even now, I was reluctant to pull away. His body gave off heat like a sun-warmed rock in the summer.
The blanket did little to keep the cold away.
And it was cold. I could feel it against any exposed skin that wasn’t hidden under the blankets or pressed against him.
I drew the coverings over my head, burying my cold nose against his skin to warm it.
He sucked in a sharp breath, and I felt his body tense for a long moment before he relaxed.
A big hand settled on top of my head, his voice soft as he spoke to me.
The reminder that I didn’t understand him and no one understood me made a lump form in my throat.
How long would I be trapped here before they sent for a translator?
Or worse—What if they never bothered? What if Umaira couldn’t get away and Hameed convinced my parents I was dead? What if I was stuck here forever?
The hand on my head started petting me over the blanket, like he could tell how upset I was and was trying to make me feel better. I allowed it because I needed a moment before I could face him.
The barbarian didn't rush me out of bed and only moved away from me when someone spoke outside the tent.
He moved to get up, and I forgot for a moment we were attached to one another until my hand jerked from underneath the blanket.
I ripped the blanket off my face, gaping at him incredulously for the cruelty, but he looked apologetic, seeming to have forgotten just as I had that we were chained together.
He said something that sounded like an apology, then pointed to the tent flap like he wanted me to get up so he could answer it.
I outright refused, shaking my head and drawing the blankets tighter around me.
It was too cold to leave the blankets. Even just having him move away was enough loss of heat to make me shiver.
I’d never been this far north before, and I wasn’t dressed for it.
I would freeze if I stepped out of the tent.
With a sigh, the barbarian spoke to whoever stood outside.
Again, the chubby man with the red hair stepped inside, this time leaning on a cane.
Another barbarian followed behind him, making the already small tent feel even smaller with two barbarians and the redhead standing above me.
The new barbarian had a basket he was carrying, and the redhead reached inside, pulling out familiar bowls and handing them to my barbarian.
They stayed only long enough to provide the bowls and a flask that I assumed was filled with water before leaving us alone again.
The barbarian sat at the small table, tugging very gently on the chain between us in a bid to get me to join him. I shook my head. I was staying in the blankets until it was warmer.
He studied me for a long moment before getting to his feet and scooping me up, blankets and all, and sitting me at the table.
He handed me my bowl as he sat down beside me, unbothered when I pulled it under the blankets so I could eat without having to reach out of the warm cocoon I’d made.
He let me eat in silence for a little while before tapping his fingers on the table to get my attention.
Plucking lightly at the blanket, he said something to me and raised an eyebrow. I raised one back. “I still don’t understand you.”
Something like amusement crossed his expression. He rubbed his arms like he was trying to warm himself, then pointed at me questioningly. I nodded rapidly in agreement.
“It’s freezing!”
He nodded, turning around to the chest that sat beside him.
He dug through it, pulling out a tunic that would dwarf me.
But it had long sleeves and looked thicker than what I was wearing.
He offered it to me and I wriggled free of my blankets long enough to snatch it and pull it over my head.
It was fur lined and the softness made me sigh before I pulled the blanket back up around my shoulders.
When he spoke again, it was in the common tongue, and he gave me a questioning look like he expected me to understand him. I pressed my lips together, glaring at him. He couldn’t judge me for not knowing either language. He didn't know mine. Why was it different for me?
He sighed and nodded again like he expected my lack of response. Then he started pointing at things and saying words in his language. It took me a minute to realize he was teaching me. He held up the bowl, saying a word, then looked at me expectantly.
Oh. Oh, no. They didn’t expect me to learn their language, did they? I hadn’t even learned the common tongue! Why should I be expected to learn their language?
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m not learning your language.
If you want to communicate with me, you need to learn mine.
I am a prince. I am not lowering myself to learning the language of barbarians.
” Even if it would make my life easier. If I tried learning their language, he’d figure out quickly that I was a terrible student, and it would look poorly on my father.
I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.
He already seemed to speak two languages. He could learn one more.