"Of course. I've grown very fond of Viane, and if I can train Alexander, I see no reason why we can't exchange messages after I leave Sedikhan."
"Indeed?" He jerked on his boot with sudden force and stood up. "You're already planning your departure? I might remind you that there are certain goals to be reached before you'll be permitted to leave Zalandan."
"The babe?" She crossed to the window and stooped down to pick up the wicker cage. "That shouldn't take long now that we've made such a good start. I'm young and healthy, and if God wills, I should be heavy with child by autumn." She looked at him. "If I cannot use the tower, we must find another place to free Alexander. Do you know of such a place?"
"Possibly," he muttered as he stood up and moved toward the door. "I'll think on it."
He was angry, she realized with surprise. She could feel the tension and displeasure emanating from him even at the distance separating them. "You need not trouble yourself to accompany me. Just tell me where—"
He turned to her. "Listen well," he said deliberately. "From this moment on I will be behind you, beside you, or within you. When you return to the palace, it will be to my chamber and my bed. You will not travel over the countryside alone or under the protection of any other man. I may have only three years, but they are going to be my years."
Before she could answer, he had flung open the door, and the next moment she heard the sound of his boots on the stone steps.
Tess hesitated, gazing after him in confusion. Alexander gave a low call, and she glanced down at him absently. "Be quiet. We're going."
She shrugged as she began to negotiate the spiral stone staircase. Galen's attitude might be bewildering, but many good things had come out of this night in addition to the pleasure he had taught her. She had begun to understand the experiences that had created him and the battles he constantly fought.
No, she was not at all sorry she had come to the tower.
Chapter 8
« ^ »
A murmur of voices, the sudden absence of warmth.
Tess murmured protestingly as she felt Galen sit up on the divan. "It's all right. Go back to sleep."
Tess opened one eye to see Said standing by the divan, striving valiantly not to look at her. "What is it?"
"Said says Kalim wishes to see me." Galen swung his feet to the floor.
Tess glanced at the lattice window. Only the first pink streaks of dawn showed through. They had not arrived back at the palace from the tower until after midnight, and could not have been asleep for more than a few hours. "Now?"
"Kalim says it's important."
She raised herself on one elbow. "Where is he?"
"In the anteroom." He paused. "Don't worry, I won't permit him to be brought into your presence. I'll go to him."
She gazed at him in surprise. "Why? I may not like the man, but I'm not so missish that I must hide my face when he appears before me."
His gaze shifted to the outline of her naked breasts beneath the silk sheet. "It wasn't your face I was trying to hide. I thought you might be feeling… vulnerable."
"You mean defeated." She shook her head. "You're not being sensible. No one has defeated me. Not you, and certainly not Kalim. I've only kept my bargain, and there's no dishonor in that."
She airily waved her hand. "Tell him to come in, Said."
"I'm glad you've shown me the error of my thinking," Galen said gravely. He nodded to Said as he lay back down and draped the sheet over himself. He tucked her bare arm beneath the sheet and drew the silken coverlet up to her chin. "I hope you won't mind if I object to your appearing in dishabille in front of another man. I find I'm experiencing a certain primitive possessiveness."
Her brow wrinkled in puzzlement. "I don't mind, but I don't understand. It doesn't seem reasonable for you to feel—"
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Majiron." Kalim strode across the chamber toward them. "There's been a raid in the hills. A messenger arrived from the encampment of El Sabir."
"El Sabir!" Galen sat straight up in bed. "What raider?"
"They're not sure." Kalim hesitated. "It could have been Tamar."
"This far south?" Galen shook his head. "He's never raided the El Zalan before. "
Kalim shrugged. "The leader matched his description, and he took women and horses as well as gold and seemed very selective about choosing the horses. You know what a passion Tamar has for fine horses."
"Who brought the message?"
"Yusef." Kalim carefully avoided looking at Tess. "He wasn't at the encampment at the time of the raid, but rode in directly afterward. It was he who said descriptions of the leader pointed to Tamar."
Galen smiled crookedly. "You needn't be so discreet, Kalim. I assure you that Yusef wasn't with the majira yesterday."
Kalim nodded without expression. "I didn't think he would have remained in such splendid health if that had been the case."
"Quite right." Galen stood up and reached for the robe Said hastily held out to him. "And it appears my wife was not enamored of Yusef, but of his house. She needed a high roof from which to launch her pigeon."
Kalian blinked. "Pigeon?"
"It's actually Viane's pigeon. We're teaching him to—" Tess broke off. Why was she making explanations to Kalim? She turned to Galen. "Where is this El Sabir?"
"It's one of the encampments that guards the gold mines in the hills. The El Sabir is one of the vassal tribes of the El Zalan." Galen took the goblet of wine Said held out to him. "It's about a four-hour ride from here." He took a sip of wine and turned back to Kalim. "What damage?"
"Not good. He set the encampment to the torch, and there were six deaths." Kalim paused. "One child. The young son of Hanal."
Galen swore. "Mother of God, when will it end?" He thrust the goblet at Said, turned, and strode toward the dressing room. "We'll leave within a half hour. Rouse the men." He disappeared into the dressing room, followed closely by Said.
Kalim started for the door, then stopped and slowly turned to face Tess again. "I was mistaken?" he asked haltingly.
Tess gazed at him without answering.
"You should have defended yourself. You should have told me—"
"That I'm not a strumpet? Why should I defend myself to you? Why should I care what you thought?" She raised her chin. "I knew you were not my friend."
He flushed. "Perhaps not your friend, but I would not wish harm to an innocent woman." He inclined his head in a formal bow. "You have my regrets if my action caused you undue pain. I owe you reparation."
Tess stared at him in surprise. He was a proud man, and she had not expected an apology. He was undoubtedly more complex and perhaps less arrogant than she had thought. She tilted her head to gaze at him curiously. "It isn't only that I'm a woman of the West, is it? You dislike me."
"I have no right to dislike you. You are the majira. I should—"
"Sweet Mary, cease." She scowled at him. "Tell me the truth."
He opened and closed his mouth without speaking. Finally, he said jerkily, "I do not dislike you. I fear you."
Before she could recover from the shock of his words, he turned on his heel and strode from the chamber.