Читать книгу Twilight Crossing - Susan Krinard - Страница 16

Chapter 7

As Timon had predicted, the raiders began to follow again when he and Jamie were halfway across the valley. But Lazarus had all the heart and courage of the Riders’ specially bred horses, and he didn’t slow until they reached the hills on the opposite side. The tribesmen never had a chance.

By the time the chase ended, Jamie was deadweight in his arms. Timon found a place in the hills just south of the pass through which the delegates and their escorts would have gone only a short while before. He laid the half-conscious Jamie down under a tree and reexamined the bandages around her thigh.

The wound wasn’t bleeding heavily, but the pain would be excruciating, and he doubted she’d ever have experienced anything like it before. He was driving her body to move instead of rest when it had two injuries to heal.

He propped her head on his thighs and urged her to drink from his canteen. Most of the water dribbled down her chin, but a little got into her mouth, and she opened her eyes.

“Where are we?” she whispered.

“Away from the tribesmen,” he said. “They won’t find us now.”

“Thank...God,” she said. Her lips twitched. “And thank you.”

Timon felt deeply uncomfortable with her gratitude. Protecting the Enclave delegates was, after all, his job. If he’d observed well enough in the first place, this never would have happened.

He didn’t like owing anything to anyone, nor did he like others owing him. If she felt there was a debt to be repaid...

Then she’ll trust you, he thought. Isn’t that what you want?

“Lie still,” he said. “Your body has suffered multiple shocks, and you need rest.”

She moved as if she was trying to sit up, then fell back with a gasp. “We have to get back to my people,” she said. “My godfather—”

“They know I came after you,” he said. “We’ll meet up with them when we can. But driving yourself now will only increase the risk of your becoming worse.”

Jamie swallowed several times. “I understand,” she said. “It’s just... I wasn’t prepared for anything like this.”

“I know.”

“The...man who took me told me what he was going to do to me, and what would happen to me afterward.” Her words came out in a rush. “If I’d done enough research...if I’d paid enough attention, maybe I would have been ready to deal with it. I—”

“No. If I’d explained things more clearly—”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference.” Tears rolled from the sides of her eyes. “Even after the first attack... I couldn’t have imagined such cruelty by humans against their own kind.”

Timon didn’t know how to answer her. He wet a scrap of cloth with the water and dabbed at the dirt on her forehead. Her skin felt cool, but that could change.

“You shouldn’t talk anymore,” he said. “If you’ll sleep a little, I’ll give you something to eat when you wake.”

“Sleep?” She coughed out a laugh. “I’m sorry, but... I’m afraid I’m a coward. It hurts too much.”

“There’s nothing cowardly about you,” he said, looking through his med kit for a packet of pills.

“How many of the humans living out here are like that?” she asked.

“Most aren’t,” he said, trying to ease the sting of her chagrin. “Most only want to survive peacefully, as you do.” He picked out one of the pills. “This might help with the pain, but I won’t lie to you. You’re going to be uncomfortable.”

“I’ll take...whatever I can get.”

He offered the pain pill with a sip of water, and then gave her an antibiotic. His supply was limited, and he had to be careful about the dosage.

“Thank you,” she said. She looked into his eyes. “You could have been killed, fighting those men.”

“I was lucky. I was able to pose as one of them.”

Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t think they...bathe very often.”

For the first time since her capture, Timon felt like laughing. “I’ll change,” he said. “I have an extra shirt and pants you can wear, when you’re able to put them on.”

“You’re twice my size,” she said. “I can repair my own clothes, if you have a needle and thread.”

“Later. Nothing matters now but that you’re safe.”

“Is it that important?” she asked, closing her eyes.

It seemed to Timon that she was asking herself as much as she was asking him. “You’re important, Jamie. I know you have a contribution to make to the Conclave, maybe something no one else can.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and Timon saw them spark with surprise. “How did you...” She clamped her lips together. “You couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t what, Jamie?”

She fell silent. The sun had grown warm, but suddenly Jamie was shivering. Timon fetched a blanket and tucked her under it.

“No more talk,” he said. “While you sleep, I’ll keep watch.”

“I’m sorry,” she sighed.

“No,” he said, taking her hand. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

She began to shake her head, exhaled slowly and drifted into sleep.

Timon held her hand a little longer, amazed by its delicacy and softness. It wouldn’t be so soft at the end of their journey. Inevitably, she would lose whatever innocence she still had left. But her second capture, so soon after the first, had been a brutal way for her to experience the outside world.

He had lost his innocence much earlier, when he’d been kidnapped as a child by a power-hungry warlord. But even before that, growing up in a mixed human and Opir colony, he’d known how much danger lay beyond the seeming safety of the colony’s walls.

But he would regret the hard lessons Jamie had yet to learn. He knew he couldn’t afford to allow his personal feelings to get in the way, and yet he felt that if he could have kept Jamie in a bubble, protected from all unpleasantness, he would have done it.

He berated himself for his weakness. He couldn’t allow himself to get emotionally involved. He could still take her back to the Enclave.

And she would resist him every step of the way. Fear wouldn’t stop her from forging ahead, even though she had only one Rider to protect her.

A Rider who had ulterior motives. Even though he’d already come to hate the idea of manipulating her into giving up information he now had reason to expect she possessed.

This was the time to learn it. When she was vulnerable and dependent on him. When she had begun to trust him.

Rising quickly, Timon walked to the top of the hill. The grass in the valley rippled like water. It was very peaceful.

Timon’s heart was not at peace. He had the overwhelming conviction that it never would be again.

* * *

Jamie woke at dawn. Timon had built a small fire, sheltered from view by the hills. He crouched beside it, the planes of his face carved of shadow and firelight, his big hands dangling between his knees.

Instinctively, Jamie felt her thigh. The pill had done some good, but the wound throbbed constantly, and her wrist wasn’t much better. She felt weak and useless, worth no more than Timon’s pity.

She watched Timon as he rummaged through his saddlebags. He wore a homespun shirt and pants with leather insets tucked into his boots, and even from a distance she could tell that the odor of his “disguise” was gone. Each of his movements was efficient and smooth, well-developed muscle working harmoniously and with no extraneous mannerisms.

Had he moved the same way when he’d fought for her in the tribesmen’s camp, with such ease and grace? He’d overcome her captor, gotten her away, treated her injuries. She was completely dependent on him and his considerable skill.

Her face felt flushed, and she touched her cheeks. They were warm...with embarrassment, she thought. No matter how many times he told her she wasn’t at fault.

“You’re awake,” he said, turning as he spoke. He smiled, and the strong lines of his face relaxed. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes,” she said, though she wasn’t sure it was really true. Her stomach grumbled loudly enough for him to hear, and she winced. “Thanks to you.”

“You’ve already thanked me,” he said. He laid his hand on her forehead, frowned and touched her cheek. There was nothing detached about that second touch. It was almost a caress.

She started in spite of herself. “No sign of the raiders?” she said, her lip cracking open as she spoke the last word.

Timon got up and returned with a small piece of gauze. He dabbed at her lip. “Nothing,” he said. “They’d expect us to be long gone by now.”

“We should be,” she said, making an effort to rise. “We can’t stay here.”

His violet-gray eyes gazed into hers with a calm wisdom that made her feel self-conscious all over again. “We’ll only move when you’re up to it,” he said, “and that won’t be today.”

Rising again, Timon fetched a tin plate filled with a kind of gruel and a strip of dried meat. “I’m sorry this is all I have to offer,” he said. “But I was only able to bring my own packs with me, and I haven’t had the chance to hunt. Do you think you can eat?”

Jamie nodded, her gut rebelling at the sight of the gruel. She let Timon feed her, though she began to resent every spoonful that went into her mouth.

“I still have one hand,” she protested.

“I don’t want you moving around any more than you have to.”

“There are some things you can’t help me with.”

He grinned, showing his pointed cuspids. “I’ve lived most of my life on the move. Do you think something like that would bother me?”

“You only travel with men,” she said.

“But I’ve known plenty of women,” he said, an almost mischievous light glittering in his eyes. “Biology is biology. If you think you can manage it, I’ll help you get up.”

“You just said you didn’t want me to move!”

All at once he was serious again. “I would rather you didn’t.”

With a feeling of queasiness, she imagined him cleaning up after her. That was out of the question. “Help me get over to the tree,” she said. He half carried her to the tree and gave her a small measure of privacy, though she knew he was alert to the possibility of a fall. She was very careful not to fall.

Then he was easing her to the blanket again, laying her down with exquisite care, with something so much like tenderness that she almost didn’t feel the increased pain as her arm and leg touched the ground.

“I’ll give you another pill,” he said, adjusting her head into a more comfortable position.

“I don’t need one,” she said with greater asperity than she’d intended.

“You kept insisting that you’re a coward who can’t stand pain.”

“I am,” she said, meeting his gaze.

He laughed softly. “Don’t ever suggest such foolish things again.”

“What—”

“That you aren’t one of the most courageous women I’ve ever known.”

“And you said you’ve known plenty.”

She didn’t know what had gotten into her. God knew she didn’t want to hear the real answer.

“Do you want the details?” he asked, his eyes dancing.

Eager to change the subject, Jamie closed her eyes. “How soon will I be well enough to travel, so that we can catch up with the others? They can’t be too far ahead.”

“We have to make sure that the arm sets properly and the leg wound remains clean and healing. We’ll find a more permanent camp, and stay there for a couple of weeks.”

“What?”

“You need plenty of time to heal.”

She began to sit up, but Timon was already pressing her down again. “That’s too long!”

“Because you’re anxious to rejoin your friends?” he asked. “Or is it the fact that you’ll be alone with me?”

His bluntness surprised her, and she felt an unfamiliar heat swelling in her belly. “I’m not afraid of anything, remember?” she said.

“Good. Because the last thing I want is for you to have doubts about me.” He leaned over her, a quiet ferocity in his voice. “I won’t let anything else happen to you. All you have to do is trust me.”

The emotions in his eyes were far too complex for her to read. She turned her head away.

“I do trust you,” she said. “I don’t have any choice.”

His sigh told her it wasn’t quite what he wanted to hear. “If that’s true,” he said, “I can suggest a way that might allow us to move a little faster.”

She turned her head toward him again. “What?”

“It may not work. But there’s a chance, Jamie.” He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “All Opiri have a component in their saliva that can heal human wounds. Usually those are the small wounds that come with a bite. But sometimes...” He leaned closer, the subtle colors shifting in his eyes. “I’m only half-Opir. But some of us inherit the healing ability. If I bite you, I may be able to hasten your healing more efficiently than any antibiotic.”

Her stomach began to roil with alarm. “Bite me?” she said.

“It’s the only way to get the healing component into your bloodstream.”

All at once his face changed, became that of a monster, eager to drain her dry. “No,” she whispered. “Get away from me.”