The Omaja Stone Page 11

  His task was going to be more difficult than he had planned, he admitted to himself, for more reasons than one.

  A few hours before daybreak, a birdcall sounded in the trees ahead, and Yajna headed in that direction. Yavi led them deep into the forest, to a clearing in the trees. Jiandra was still fast asleep when they arrived, and Yajna slowed Otto to a halt. When he moved to dismount, she awoke instantly, searching for him. He reached up to grasp her waist and lifted her down, setting her on her feet.

  “Where are we?” she murmured, rubbing her eyes.

  “In the forest northwest of Caladia. We are making camp here for the day to rest and stay out of sight until nightfall.” He removed her tent, bedroll, and saddlebags from Otto’s back while she stood shivering in her cloak. Within minutes, he had her tent set up and her things moved inside.

  “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a moment.” He grabbed Otto’s reins and led him to a nearby stream.

  #

  Jiandra looked at the tent, wrapping her cloak tightly around herself in the early morning air. Did he intend to share it with her? She pictured his large frame scrunched into her bedroll, with herself tucked into his warm embrace—not an entirely distasteful image. She decided to stand there and wait until he got back, rather than laying claim to the tent immediately, before knowing where or how he intended to sleep.

  A few minutes later, he returned. “We have only your tent. Do you have objections to sharing it? If so, I can sleep outside.”

  “Oh, ah—I…”

  “I promise not to touch you.”

  “Oh, no, I’m sure…I mean…” She felt like a babbling fool.

  “If you prefer, I can sleep outside.”

  “No!” Whoa, that was loud, Jiandra. Don’t attack him yet. She cleared her throat, forcing calm into her voice. “Sharing the tent would be fine.”

  “Come, then,” he said, holding the door flap aside for her to enter first. “I’ll wait out here until you’re tucked in.”

  Jiandra crawled in and sat on the bedroll that he had spread out. She untied her cloak, slipped it off and lay it aside. Then she removed her shoes, and next fiddled with the laces of her corset. She shrugged out of it and set it aside as well. Skirt? Yes, the skirt needed to air out a little after being dunked in the river, dragged through the woods, and lowered into that musty cellar. She shook it out and hung it over a tent rope. She was down to her blouse, petticoat, and shift. She decided to stop there and lift the edge of the blankets to crawl into the bedroll.

  She lay on her back and pulled the covers up to her armpits. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  He ducked inside, leaving the tent flap open just a bit so he could see. He sat on the ground, stripped off his worn shirt and laid it out behind him, then reached for her folded-up cloak. “May I use this?”

  “Oh…yes, of course.” Her mouth had gone a little dry as she stared at the planes of his naked chest and arms in the moonlit shadows. She wasn’t sure what to do besides watch guiltily as he continued to undress, pulling off his boots. If he reached for his pants, she would definitely look away. Maybe look away.

  Pants intact, he closed down the tent flap and turned to lie on his side on his shirt, pulling her cloak over him. Two people in her small tent left no room for any sort of privacy, she noticed right away—his body was mere inches from hers, but he was dutifully keeping his hands and arms to himself, not attempting to share her bedroll. Somewhat to her disappointment, actually.

  “Are you comfortable enough?” she asked after a moment.

  “Yes. You?”

  “Yes.” She turned her back to him, feeling self-conscious about breathing in his face. “Rest well,” she murmured over her shoulder, snuggling under her blanket. Not long after, she drifted off to sleep.

  #

  Yajna lay awake for some time listening to her steady breathing. He raised up on one elbow and carefully felt for the silver chain that lay against the slim column of her neck with his fingertips. It was warm to the touch from her body heat, and the metal instantly thrummed with electrical energy, a warning not to disturb its bond with her. His fingers lightly brushed the soft, silky skin of her neck before he moved his hand away, fighting the urge to trace his lips against the curve of her shoulder and neck. His groin throbbed. He lay down on his back and took several slow, deep breaths, mentally willing himself to get some sleep.

  SIXTEEN

  When Jiandra awoke, she found herself snuggled in her bedroll, toasty warm because Yajna was lying so close she could feel his breath fanning the prickly skin of her exposed neck. She inched backwards, until her back made contact with his body through the blankets, thrilled when he didn’t jerk away. Put your arm around me, she silently begged. He didn’t. She lay still for a few moments, wondering how he would react if she rolled over, slid her arms around his neck, and snuggled into his embrace. She could use the Omaja to read his thoughts, she realized. Find out if he were awake, and if he were lying so close to her on purpose. It was a tremendous temptation. It’s wrong, though. Zehu didn’t teach me the Knowing power so I could seduce a man. The right thing, unfortunately, was to find out what he would do by taking the risk of rejection. She released a short sigh, summoned her courage, and rolled over.

  He sat up. “Stay here and rest awhile longer,” he muttered, shrugging into his shirt. “I’ll build a fire for lunch.”

  Disappointed, Jiandra propped herself up on one elbow. “Lunch? But we don’t have any food.”

  “I’ll find some.” He scooped up his boots and left the tent.

  She sighed, lay back down, and jerked the covers over her head.

  #

  Minutes later, Yajna met his twin in the trees by the stream.

  Yavi frowned. “Did you get the stone?”

  “No.”

  “You were alone with her in the tent for the past six hours. What were you doing in there?”

  “Sleeping.”

  “Sleeping? That’s all?” Yavi grinned and handed him his bow.

  “That’s all.”

  Yavi followed him to the water’s edge. “Brother, you have no skill with women. Let’s switch places. I can melt her defenses and earn her liking much faster than you can, I’ll wager.”

  Yajna scanned the stream for trout, his bow poised and ready. “She likes me already.”

  “She does? How do you know?”

  “She said so last night during the ride. She said I was a good traveling companion and bodyguard.”

  Yavi shook his head. “And you did nothing in her tent but sleep? I would have made love to her so thoroughly that she’d barely notice I was lifting the necklace from around her neck.”

  “Unlike you, brother, I don’t make love to a woman I’m about to rob and kill.” He shot an arrow into the stream, kicking up a small cloud of silt as it struck bottom.

  “You missed.”

  Yajna reached down, grasped the arrow, jerked it free from the earth and up out of the water. A trout wriggled, impaled on the shaft.

  He grinned and handed Yavi his bow. “Just for that, catch your own.”

  #

  Jiandra rose from her bedroll and dressed herself in a fresh blouse, donned her skirt and corset, then combed out her hair and re-braided it over her shoulder. A delicious smell of something cooking assailed her senses, and she emerged from the tent to find Yajna roasting a decent-sized trout over a fire. A plate from her saddlebags sat on a log next to him with a pile of wild blackberries and raspberries on it.

  “I found those in the woods. Eat; you’ll need your strength.”

  “Thank you.” Jiandra scooped up a handful of the fruit, nibbling it eagerly. He had filled her tin cup as well, and she drank of the cool, crisp water. She watched him over the edge of the cup as he tended the fish. He met her gaze briefly, then returned his attention to his task. When the fish was done, he served her a portion of it and sat down with her to eat.

  “How much longer do you think we’ll have to travel to
reach the assassin’s hideout?”

  “It’s an eight-hour ride with rests, food, and water. We’ll set out again after dark.”

  “Do you think he’ll still be there by the time we arrive?”

  “I believe so. Like I said, from the looks of his campsite, he’s been living there for a while. The location is secluded in the mountains, and he can hide there indefinitely.”

  “So you remember his name, what he looks like?”

  Yajna took a sip of water. “He only gave me the name ‘Yavi.’ I would describe his stature as scrawny, and his face is rather ugly. He has a large, crooked nose and yellowed teeth.”

  “Hmm.” Jiandra took a bite of the fish, picturing the vile criminal.

  Yajna glanced up past Jiandra’s head to the copse of trees where Yavi was hiding. Yavi raised his hand to make an obscene gesture, and Yajna stifled a smile, popping a blackberry into his mouth.

  #

  Brockriede had spent the entire morning wandering around Caladia looking for Miss Stovy. He and Logsdon decided that if she didn’t turn up by the next day, they would travel south again on Caladian Road, knowing they needed to report back to the castle that she was lost.

  In his search around the city, he passed the stockades where the Caladian guards were keeping the overflow of captured Nandals who couldn’t be crammed into the over-full prison as they awaited transport to Kingston. Local citizens milled around outside the heavily guarded fence, some jeering at the large group of half-starved, ragged-looking captives, some throwing pebbles or rocks at them and others just staring.

  Legions of Nandals were being held in captivity all around Villeleia, it appeared. Logsdon was right; Miss Stovy was fighting a futile battle trying to save them. If they found her again, he made up his mind that he would force her to stay focused on finding the assassin, for her own good as well as that of the queen.

  #

  At Yajna’s encouragement, Jiandra slept again for a few hours in the afternoon while he scrounged for more food, tended Otto, and kept watch outside the tent. She awoke later to find he had collected more berries, plus persimmons, wild apples, and walnuts, enough to store a good amount in her saddlebags for later that night and the next day. He also caught two more trout and cooked them for supper. Jiandra feasted on his provisions, impressed by his resourcefulness. He had a talent for making everything that felt so worrisome and difficult to her seem easy.

  They sat by the fire after eating an early supper, waiting for nightfall.

  “Tell me about your boyhood in Nandala.” Jiandra sat cross-legged with her skirt tucked under her legs, scratching in the dirt with a twig. “What was it like growing up there?”

  “Our favorite thing was playing in the forest near our home most every day, after chores and schoolwork.”

  “Our?”

  “Yes…I…have a brother.”

  “Is he still in Nandala with your parents?”

  He looked down. “Yes. With my father. My mother died of pneumonia when I was fifteen.”

  “Oh.” Jiandra swallowed. “Was your family very poor when you were growing up?”

  “Compared to some Nandals, no, but like most, our family struggled to grow enough food every year on our farm. Nandala’s land has been under a heavy curse for almost a century now. Barely anything grows there.”

  “Do you really think the land is cursed?”

  “In former times, Nandala was as green as Villeleia, and her fields flourished with plenteous crops. Now we are either in drought or in flooding, season after season. Fierce weeds and briars spring up to choke out our crops, and though we toil to destroy them, they grow back faster and stronger each year. The people are starving, and the emperor does nothing to alleviate it.” That muscle in his jaw twitched again. “That, to me, is a curse.”

  “You love Nandala; I can see that.”

  “Yes.”

  “I love my homeland too…although not our policies concerning the Nandals at the moment.”

  “Did you have a happy childhood?” he asked.

  “Yes, but it was cut short. My parents were killed when I was seventeen, and my brother and I took over our family farm to provide for our younger siblings.” She broke the twig in half. “But before that, we were basically happy, everyone pitching in together for the success of the farm.”

  “You lost both your parents at seventeen?”

  “Yes. They were killed when bandits ambushed their carriage.”

  He fell silent.

  “But we managed to keep our farm going. My brother and I were determined to raise our younger siblings and run the farm ourselves.”

  “You enjoy farming?”

  “Yes, very much. My favorite crop is grapes.” She smiled. “They are delicious to eat, and we make wine with them.”

  “Where did you learn to ride a horse so well?”

  “My father. He also taught me a bit of swordplay.”

  “Did he? Are you as good with a sword as you are with your horse?”

  She laughed. “No, probably not.”

  “Let me see.” He rose to his feet and searched for some sticks.

  Jiandra stood and dusted off her skirt. He handed her a long branch, keeping one for himself.

  “On guard,” he said, crouching into position. “Attack me.”

  Jiandra readied herself and shook her head. “You first.”

  He thrust and she parried, then counter-attacked. After several minutes of sparring with the branches, Yajna stopped and stood up straight, hands on hips. “Not bad.”

  She rushed him, driving a powerful thrust toward his chest. He caught her branch with one hand, swung her around, and caught her in his arms, pinning her back against his torso with the branch at her neck.

  She laughed heartily, struggling to free herself.

  He held her captive for a moment, then let her go.

  She turned to face him, laughing merrily. “You killed me; I’m dead!”

  Yajna’s rare smile faded. “I need to go check on Otto,” he muttered, disappearing quickly into the trees.

  #

  Yavi met him by the stream. “Are you enjoying yourself? While I am just sitting here watching you sport with a beautiful girl?”

  Yajna threw his sparring branch to the ground. “No, brother, I am not enjoying myself. I dislike lying.”

  “You could tell her the truth: ‘We’ve come to take your stone and kill you.’ Then would you feel better?”

  Yajna released a sigh, then checked Otto’s saddle as the horse drank from the stream. “We leave in half an hour.”

  “Let’s switch places. I’ll ride with the lass and you scout ahead. She won’t know the difference.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t trust your reaction to her soft breasts pressed against your back for eight hours; that is why not.”

  Yavi grinned. “Are they soft? Mmm.”

  Yajna pushed him aside to leave, shaking his head.

  #

  Gerynwid sat at her scrying fountain, watching the twins as they carried Jiandra north. They spoke only Nandalan to each other when they were alone, so she was unable to decipher their conversations. She was growing suspicious of them. Surely by now Yajna had found some opportunity to lift the necklace from Jiandra’s neck. Why was he delaying?

  “Svana!”

  The Nandal maid came running up the spiral staircase to the tower room, bowing nervously.

  “Where is my wine, you lazy dolt?”

  “Yes, milady.” Svana bowed again, hurrying back down the stairs.

  Gerynwid watched her go, her crystalline blue eyes glinting maliciously.

  #

  A few hours after dark, Jiandra mounted Otto behind Yajna and they made their way through the woods back toward Caladian Road. They followed it north, occasionally moving off it to wait hidden in the trees as travelers or soldiers passed by. The road eventually curved northeast toward the foothills of the mountain range bordering Na
ndala. Yajna stopped before crossing a small stone bridge and led Otto down to the stream below for a drink, dismounting and lifting Jiandra down for a rest as well.

  A few hundred feet down the road ahead, Yavi and his horse lurked in the dense woods, waiting. The sound of a large fowl’s wings flapping overhead caught his attention, and he turned to watch the griffon vulture alight on the forest floor. A moment later, Gerynwid stood to her full height and walked toward him through the trees.

  “Greetings, Sorceress.”

  “Hello, Yavi.” She stepped closer to him and laid a slender white hand against his chest.

  He glanced down at her hand, then back up at her face.

  “Where is my kiss of welcome?”

  He hesitated, and she backed away, eyes narrowing. “I know why you do not kiss me.”

  “No, you do not.”

  She smirked and paced in a slow circle around him, studying his face in the moonlight. “I grow weary, Yavi, of waiting for you and your brother to kill the wench, take the stone, and be done with it. What is the reason for the delay?”

  “Yajna has not found his opportunity yet.”

  “Yajna,” she countered, “is becoming attached to this girl.”

  “I assure you, he is not. Yajna does not become attached to anyone.”

  “If either of you betray me, Yavi, Svana dies.” Gerynwid watched his face for a reaction.

  He showed none.

  She scowled. “I want that stone in my hand within twenty-four hours.” With that, she shapeshifted back into the griffon vulture, and flew off into the night sky.

  Yavi’s jaw tightened. He swung himself up into his saddle to wait for his brother.

  SEVENTEEN

  Jiandra drew her cloak tighter around herself as they gained altitude, traveling northeast. It was well after midnight, and she was getting extremely sleepy, lulled by the rhythmic gait of the horse.

  “Getting chillier,” she murmured.