Читать книгу Destiny's Hand - Lori Wilde - Страница 4

Egmath knew he was dying.

His vision was gone, his limbs numb and useless, his blood seeping away from him, soaking into the hot desert sand. But the wicked sword that had mortally pierced his heart in the heat of fierce battle had not destroyed his soul.

One thought. One single precious thought dominated his essence.

Batu.

His beloved.

He thought of her sweet voice, her delicate scent, the feel of her soft lips upon his. How silky was her hair. How creamy her skin. But those were not the reasons he loved her. He loved her sharp mind and her tender laugh and the way she made him feel special. He loved her courage and her determination. He loved the way she had respected his code of honor and had not asked him to violate it. Not even so they could be together.

Batu.

He thought of the way they’d played in the cypress grove as children, laughing and teasing each other. He recalled how their love had grown as they’d grown older. The first kiss they’d shared. The love they’d made. He remembered the pain of learning that he must marry her sister, that in this life Batu could never be his. For that reason alone he was glad this incarnation was over.

Egmath had known her and loved her from a time beyond time. She was his soul mate. They were fused. One. It did not matter that duty demanded he marry her sister, Anan. Batu was forever his and he was hers. They were two halves of a whole. Nothing could tear them asunder.

Not even death.

He felt no pain, for his love for Batu sustained him as he left the world, his spirit flying far above the battlefield. Taking him to a place of quiet peace, a place where he knew the truth.

Only love was real.

The one eternal constant.

Finally he let go, completely severing the thin silver thread anchoring his soul to his body. Knowing everything was all right. Knowing that one day, he and his beloved would be together again.

For she was his destiny.

Arik, Egmath’s second in command, was wounded, but not mortally so. Bleeding and in pain, he staggered through the horror of the battlefield. He examined the bodies, searching for his leader and praying to the gods that Egmath, the greatest warrior who’d ever lived, had somehow managed to survive the carnage.

“Egmath,” he shouted over and over, but the only sounds that met his call were the sounds of men dying.

After a long search, his heart tightened in his chest when he caught sight of Egmath’s familiar tunic fluttering in the wind. He dropped onto his knees in the sand beside Egmath’s body, grief twisting tears from his eyes. Egmath stared sightlessly at the sky, but he had a beatific smile on his face, as if he’d seen something glorious calling to him from the other side.

Egmath had been not only Arik’s leader, but his best friend, confiding things to him that he confided to no one else. Arik knew about Batu. He knew about the White Star amulet.

The amulet. Where was the amulet? Egmath would want him to take it back to Batu. But the amulet was no longer around his neck where he normally wore it. Arik checked Egmath’s tunic to see if the White Star had been torn from the leather strap and fallen into his clothing but he could not find it. Feeling almost frantic, as if he were letting down his friend in the one time he needed him most, Arik rolled Egmath’s body over and searched the ground beneath him.

No amulet.

He gently rolled him back over. “I’m sorry, my old friend. I let you down.”

And then something caught his eye.

Egmath was clutching something tightly in his hands.

Arik slowly pried Egmath’s fingers open. What he saw there was not the White Star amulet.

But something far more valuable to Egmath’s beloved Batu.

Arik knew what he must do. He would take this to Batu and protect it with his life.