Warlord's Ward

More Than You Can Imagine

"More than you can imagine. Get it off me." He urged.

He wants to wash away the killing? I wondered.

He was acting as though the blood made him feel deeply dirty.

Not just flesh deep.

I finished his chest and lifted my hands. Using the corner of the bar to lather at a few spots. And scratching at the others with my fingernails, as gently as I could.

I glanced at his eyes. Barely noticing that he was staring at me as if seeing into my soul. His gaze roving my face as if looking for something. His penetrating study made me feel exposed. Even more than I already am.

As intimate as if he's inside me again.

"What?" I asked.

"You've the most erotic thoughts."

I gasped.

"You were staring at me before that!" I sputtered.

"You're right. I was." He coldly admitted.

"Why?"

"A pretty face after such an ugly day is a remarkably beautiful thing."

"An ugly day?"

"Killing is never pretty." He turned away from me. Back to the icy cold man I was getting used to.

He doesn't like me.

He stiffened.

I wondered if he'd argue with me, but he didn't. Making me feel even more ashamed of what we'd done.

I'm a slave. A mere annoyance until I'm a convenience. I wanted to hop out of the bin and get as far from him as I could.

***

"If you hate killing so much, why do you do it?"

"Because I've no choice."

"Why not?"

"Ugh." His shoulders dropped and his head fell back. "I've never known a woman with so many questions."

"Perhaps if you answered them, I'd not have so many!" I expostulated.

"Perhaps if I stopped answering the ones I do, you'd give up the effort!" He countered. Chin dropping as his blue eyes landed on me again.

I glared at him.

Abruptly, he caught my dark hair and the other hand swung around my lower back to wrap me and drag him back against me. There was a smiling dancing over his lips. "Who'd have ever thought you'd have so much spirit?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Most captives do not."

***

"Have you had so many then?"

He gave a half smile that was no answer at all.

I jerked from his grip and backed up. Stumbling over the edge of the bin.

Only his grip catching my forearm saved me from falling on my rear to the hard floor and causing a ruckus below. Holding me at an angle above the floor.

I slowly gathered my feet beneath me and peeled his fingers off me.

He gave me a look that said, me jerking away from him was a mere annoyance. He stepped smoothly from the bin and caught my hand and drug me over to the window. But to my surprise he reached just beneath it and twisted a latch and what I'd thought was a wall peeled open and revealed a glistening white balcony. He dragged me out only a few steps to stare down on the greenest lawns I'd ever seen.

There was a man barking orders. I'd heard those kind of orders before but not in this voice. This man seemed unsure. Looking at the other mages for direction.

When I'd heard this before it was a vicious voice. And when I'd heard softly murmured questions, he returned with a harsh voice.

"That isn't the same man that usually is out here."

"No, indeed it's not. He's gone. His name was Hawk."

I gave him a questioning look.

"This is just one of the more senior mages trying to take his place until the King picks a new Second in Command."

"Why not you?"

"Because I'd pick one, I can easily sway. The King will not."

***

"Why is he so cruel to them?"

"Because I tell him to be." He flicked his fingers and a gray dress dropped from around my neck to swing over my body and wrap beneath my arms and hips.

I glanced over at him in surprise, and he was suddenly in a flowing white tunic and fitted black breeches. My gaze slid down.

But his feet are still as bare as the day he was born.

And it struck me how natural he seemed like that. Like he's a creature more suited to being free in the woods.

Not trapped in a miserable castle.

But with his long, waving black hair and serious features he looked like the powerful being he was. And I couldn't help wondering what could possibly hold him here, if he didn't want to be.

"Why do you so enjoy the suffering of others?"

He scoffed. "Not as much as you may think."

Still gripping my arm, he whirled me over and around in a semi-circle to face him.

He put a finger to his lips and pointed up.

I followed the direction he indicated and saw far above, King Detry stood out on a narrower balcony far higher above. Looking down on those being trained so fiercely in the gardens.

Warlord yanked me back toward him with a single tug which was strong enough to send me tumbling into his arms.

I peered up at him.

"I tell him to push them because any the King sees as weak, he'll have us put down."

"What are they?"

"My mages."

"If they're yours why does the King make you kill them?"

"They're no more mine than you are. Just slaves kept in the castle. But their lives are as much at a whim to him as yours is to mine."

"You'd kill me so easily?"

His eyes narrowed and he gave me a chiding look. "That's not what I said."

"Didn't you?"

"I'm very clear in what I say." His tone turned chiding. "Or did you miss that?"

Seeing I'd not try to say something more he continued.

"The mages are mine to command but his to kill. He could have me killed in an hour if he wished."

"No." I shook my head. "You're too powerful. You'd never let him."

"You're mistaken." He said under his breath in a tone that brooked no question. "I'd absolutely let him."

"Why?"

"Because of what he has over me."