Page 25 of On a Barbarian World

Now that his nanami and his temper were calming, the image of her attacking the cat replayed in his head. Calm. Courageous. Competent. The qualities of a good warrior.

She tossed the cloth at him, and it bounced off his chest.

He caught it, then cleared his throat and wiped his own hands clean. “Thank you.” He winced internally. His words were gruff and didn’t sound very grateful, but it was all he could manage. “For your help.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head. “You are terrible at saying thank you.”

“Something else I need to practice?”

He saw her fight off a smile. “Absolutely.” Then she blinked. “Your wounds.”

He touched a hand to his shoulder. The scratches were already healing. “My nanami will deal with them.”

“That’s pretty handy.”

“Let’s go before another darken beast decides to feast on us.”

“Great idea.”

As they walked back to Tarm, Kavon decided he enjoyed watching all the emotions cross his skyflyer’s face—amusement, anger, interest. But he hadn’t liked the sadness he’d seen in them before, the sadness he still sensed in her.

Then he noted the scar in the ground from her crashed ship and thought of Drog. Old resentment flared.

Aurina was under Kavon’s protection. That was all. He helped her mount the hargon beast. Drog may have technology from her ship now, technology he could use against Kavon.

Kavon needed to remember his plan for revenge. He needed all of the knowledge Aurina possessed, nothing else.

CHAPTER FIVE

Aurina had finally adjusted to the gait of the hargon beast, but she couldn’t adjust to the desolate feeling beating inside her. Fears and doubts crowded in her head. She was lost out here, in the middle of uncharted space.

Alone.

Except she wasn’t.

Kavon was a big, warm presence behind her. She stared at his strong arms as they held the reins in front of her. His thick wrists were banded by gold topped with a gray fur. He was a stranger—a big, dangerous one—but he seemed to soothe part of her, and kept her from dropping into full-blown panic.

Ahead, she saw the green, rolling farmland appear, along with neat, gray stone walls, cordoning off different fields. Some were lush with grown crops of green and brown. Others looked newly plowed. Everywhere, people worked—both men and women. No one looked browbeaten or downtrodden.

As they got closer, she could even hear some people singing. She breathed deep. The air was so fresh.

“This is all your land?”

“Yes,” Kavon answered.

“What do you grow?”

“A variety of things. Mostly foodstuffs, and some crops for making fabrics. I have a woman who is head of my farming.”

One thing Aurina couldn’t picture was Kavon standing in a field holding a hoe. A farmer, he was not. “A woman is in charge?”

“Yes. Men are warriors. Women are keepers of skills and knowledge.”

Surprise flickered through her. She’d made the assumption Markaria was male-dominated in all ways. “So, you don’t keep women barefoot and pregnant.”

His brow creased in confusion. “Why would I prevent a woman from wearing shoes?”

“Never mind⁠—”