“Pushes you?” There was so much about her I didn’t understand.
Her voice trembled as she admitted, “She’s remaking Her lines, one squalling baby at a time, and I’m Her favorite tool. I may not be able to escape, but I won’t just lie down and let Her turn me into someone I’m not.”
I would go to war against anyone or anything in the world, but I couldn’t fight the one my love saw as her enemy, theGoddess of all. “I don’t want you to be anyone other than who you are. Please, Rada. Please don’t leave me.” I was begging her. I didn’t care.
“I’m not what you want. Find someone else, someone who’ll give you what you deserve. Goodbye, Goran,” she murmured, reaching down into her cloak. Then, “Why would a divorce and a haircut be the same thing? Such a weird custom.”
I took a deep breath to try and explain, but just as I inhaled, she brought her hand up in front of her face and opened it. The small mound of gray powder puffed toward my face.
I didn’t even feel my head hit the stone floor. When I woke up, days later, she was gone.
The memory broke into splinters as Wrath sidestepped. What had he sensed? The wind in the trees was louder than my wife’s snoring, but my horse was a perceptive beast.
So far, there hadn’t been any others on the narrow deer path we were following through the easternmost edge of the Mirlake Forest, but his quivering nostrils made it clear that someone was near. I moved one hand to the hilt of my sword, bringing Rada closer to my chest.
The Beta we were seeking stood in the center of the path, appearing without any sound, like a ghost. He bowed slightly at the waist. “Warlord. Blessings be to you for saving Her daughter.” He had an odd accent, but spoke Starlakian fluently.
I stared for a long moment. The Beta had dark, straight hair pulled back in a low knot, nearly black irises, and an interesting hue to his skin that reminded me of the pale yellow flowers that grew in the courtyard of Wargate Hall, my home. He was slender, but not feminine, and no taller than the woman in my arms.
But what had me blinking were his long, cream-colored robes. I hadn’t paid attention to them before. “You killed a priest?”
“What?” He looked down, then around, almost comically. “No. My vows do not allow me to harm others.”
I examined him for weapons, but all I found was a small, curved knife—like cooks used for paring vegetables—hanging from his narrow rope belt. “Vows. By the mountains, youarea priest?”
I found myself almost smiling when he nodded, then shrugged. “I was when my mistress found me. The Goddess?—”
Rada’s laugh was like a silver bell pealing. “Stuck Her nose into your shit and ruined your life almost as badly as mine. Hells, Alexios, I’m damned glad to see you alive. And with my bags!” Rada tried to jump down, but I tightened my grip.
“Your feet,” I reminded her, even though the burns on them were nowhere near as bad as they should’ve been. The scorch marks on her ankles, calves, and even her arms were worse, but I’d learned not to question how Rada escaped death. She’d had plenty of practice.
Rada patted my arm absently. “Aw yeah, thanks, Gorgeous.”
I stiffened at the last word, which was in Verdanian. It had been her pet name for me, in our private moments. The happy ones, anyway.
From the puzzled look on the Beta’s face, he didn’t understand the word. Rada cleared her throat and apologized instantly. “Sorry, I meant Goran. I was still half asleep.”
“Don’t call me that again,” was all I said before dismounting and pulling her down behind me. I carried her to the Beta, who was already pulling a soft pair of socks out of one of the bags he had with him.
“Let me help you,” he told Rada. To my shock, she nodded and reached for him. I set her into his arms and watched as he carefully cared for her, placing her on a small cloth to keep her off the leaf mulch. He removed the fenrick leaves, his eyebrows lowering when he saw the unmarred skin beneath them. Thenhe slathered her feet, ankles, and calves with some potion before slowly rolling the socks on. He spoke to her in a language I didn’t know as he laid out some fresh clothing for her.
She shucked off her cloak and the filthy gown without a shred of modesty or care for the sudden gust of icy wind from the north. I swallowed hard. She’d changed since I’d seen her last. There were a handful of healed scars on her, in addition to the recent burns. Her muscles were even more defined, though her breasts and hips were softer as well. Her hair was longer, hitting at the base of her spine as the Beta helped her stand, then braided the dark length expertly.
It was only his priest’s robes that kept me from stabbing out his eyes for daring to look at her. Well, those and the calm, unbothered way he helped her into the black clothing.
He flicked a look at her legs and feet, then me, a question in his eyes.
I shrugged. He’d noticed what I had about the lack of burned tissue below her calves. He lifted one hand to his forehead, then the sky, then turned to help with her fastenings. They conversed in that unfamiliar language as he buckled her weapons belt around her narrow hips, the Beta clearly asking questions the whole time.
Once she was clothed, Rada shrugged and glanced over, her eyes not meeting mine. “Goran, this is Alexios dal Luyen, my valet from the Southern Lands, and former priest of the Temple of the Goddess. Alexios, this is Goran, the Warlord of All Starlak.”
“Your husband,” Alexios said softly, standing to face me and dropping into a low bow.
“Former husband,” Rada muttered. We both ignored her.
“It is an honor to meet you at last. I’ve heard many stories.”
“You have?” I narrowed my eyes. “I wonder which stories.”
