Chapter Eight #2

“Ouch.” He clapped a hand

over his heart. “Yet another scar to add to my growing

collection.”

“One you’ll recover

quickly enough from, I’m sure.” He cocked his head and said

nothing, and Lara couldn’t read the expression on his face, what

with his left eye swollen almost shut and the bandage covering his

forehead and brows. “What breed of horse is the Black?” she asked,

rubbing the salve into his leg. “I’ve never seen one so big and

black that wasn’t a plow horse.”

“He’s a Friesian,” the

captain said as Wolf ambled over and laid his head on the captain’s

lap. “From Friesland, a land far north and east of here.” He rubbed

Wolf’s ear. “Do you know of it?”

“I’ve heard the name, but

that’s all I know.”

“I went there as an

emissary for Charles, ten, no, nine years ago now, and came back

with this black brute as an unbroken yearling. There are whole

herds there as big and black as him.”

Lara stood and wiped her hands on the

rag hanging over the gate. “A horse from Friesland, a sword from

Rome, a board game from Byzantium. Do you always take something

from the places you’ve been?”

“I suppose I do,” he said.

“When I choose a place to stay, my land from Charles, I plan on

going back to Friesland and buying a dozen good broodmares for this

brute to cover and raise sleek black foals for the king’s

army.”

“So.” Lara gave the

captain a sideways glance. “You do intend to stop your wanderings

someday?”

“My wanderings?” He

chuffed. “I’ve been tending to the king’s business and fighting his

wars.”

“And seeing much of the

world in the bargain.” She recalled the few stories he and Phillipe

had told her of their travels, how the captain’s eyes would light

up with the memories. “You would miss it, I think, traveling the

world.”

“The travels, yes.” He

shifted on the stool with a low groan. “But not the traveling.

There comes a point in a soldier’s life where your body remembers

every freezing wet or sweltering hot sky and hard-packed piece of

earth you laid your bedroll, where a comfortable bed under a sturdy

roof in a dry room sounds better and better.”

Lara nodded. “I can understand that.

Still, the places you’ve been, the things you’ve seen…”

“You would like to see

more of this world, I think. To not always stay in this

valley.”

Lara’s heart sank. “Why do

you say that? Do you mean to take me from here when you leave?” As

his lidi, she

wouldn’t have any say in the matter if he did.

He stared hard at her for a moment,

his jaw clamped tight. “Not if you fulfill your obligations to the

king before then.”

“As I have every intention

of doing,” she snapped.

He rubbed the back of his neck, then

his jaw. “I just meant, the way you listened to Phillipe’s and my

stories.”

“I’ve swum in the

Mediterranean Sea,” she told him, surprising herself as well as

him. She had determined to tell him as little about herself as

possible, to keep as much of her life to herself as she could, yet

it felt more right than wrong to be telling him this. Why, she

couldn’t have said, only that it did. “I’ve stood in your Neustria

Sea as well. We journeyed there the summer I was eight, Sophie,

Jumper, and me.”

“Jumper?”

“Sophie’s rat

terrier.”

“You and Sophie traveled

as far as the Neustria Sea with nothing more than an ankle-biting

terrier? And back?”

“We did.”

“Why?”

Lara shrugged. “Sophie said we must go

and so we went. We left here early spring and returned late

autumn.”

“Do you always do what

Sophie says?”

“Mostly.”

He chuffed. “Why do you do what she

says, when you don’t do anything anybody else says?”

She thought of giving him some smart

answer, then decided on the truth. She’d already told him that she

and Sophie were witches, as much to make him wary of them both as

anything else. Whether he believed it or not was up to him.

“Because Sophie has the knowing of things. Things past, present,

and future. A sixth sense.”

“Sophie the Sixth. I’ve

heard her called this. Nithard called her this. He fears her.” He

held Lara’s gaze. “Why?”

Lara flashed him a feral grin. “She

foretold his death. She told him when the first silver showed in

his hair, he would die choking on Frank silver.” Her grin turned

conspiratorial. “They say that’s why he dyes his hair and beard

black, hoping to cheat death.”

The captain barked out a laugh and

then hung his head between his hands with a long, drawn-out

groan.

“Does your head hurt

badly?”

He lifted his gaze to hers. “Not half

as much as looking at you does.”

Lara stared into eyes as gray and

brooding as the sky before a summer storm. Eyes that poured a soft,

wet heat into hers. A heat that stirred and simmered deep in her

core. A horse whinnied, and startled, she seized the tub of balm

and thrust it into the captain’s hand. “Rub this into the Black’s

leg four times a day until the swelling is down. And don’t ride him

for several days after, for his sake. For your own.” She picked up

her bag. “I’d advise staying off any horse for at least a day,

maybe three. I’ll send Denys for you and tell Berta you’re to stay

in the cool of the hall and do nothing more strenuous than eat

pie.”

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