have come from Lagara. He held it up and examined the tiny face of the woman sitting by a pond painted like the sky. She was beautiful, smiling at her reflection in the crystal blue ripples made by perfect, tiny fingers.
“I have more like that one,” the woman trader offered but Caleb shook his head and made his way back to Willow carrying her gift behind his back.
When he reached her, her head was still bent into her drawn up knees. Caleb knelt in front of her and lifted his hand to pluck a feather out of her hair. He would have bargained a hundred gallons of water that this was the first time a feather was ever found in her hair. “Your Highness?” he whispered.
“Go away,” she sobbed into her arms.
“Please don’t cry, Willow,” he said. It was a waste of moisture. But he didn’t tell her or she would think that was all he cared about. Besides, if there was one thing that could melt his warrior heart, it was the tears of a woman.
She lifted her head and Caleb swallowed, and then looked away from her tear-streaked face. “I don’t know this world, Caleb,” she cried. “I want to go home.”
He nodded, feeling like a monster. He slipped the figurine into the pouch behind his back. He was a fool to buy her a gift. A gift wouldn’t help what he’d done to her by taking her with him. But what should he have done, leave her in Silvergard to die? What if her father came back for her? He would have saved her. No, Baltrasard was a selfish man, and he was no fool. He knew Caleb would never leave her there. The king wouldn’t have returned. She would have most likely died.
He wouldn’t be the cause of her death, whether she was his enemy’s daughter or not. He hated being the cause of her tears. “I will find someone to bring you to Beldar. No one knows who you are, so you will be safe.”
She stopped crying and looked him in the eye. “You aren’t going? Will you leave my father alone?”
“No,” he answered to both. “For many years I’ve dreamed about bringing Baltrasard to justice. He must pay publicly for what he’s done to my family, to this land, and I will make sure he does. But the journey to Beldar and back will cost too much, not just in trade, but to my home of Shondravar. There are many things I must return to.”
“Oh?” She wiped her tears. “A wife?”
He smiled and shook his head. “My gold. I have fields of it.” He gave her a furtive smile and held his hand out to her as he stood to his feet. “Come, how would you like a bath?”
She looked up at him and fit her hand into his. “A bath? Where? Who?”
“In that tent. He pointed to the tent in the distance what was dark green and yellow. “I thought it would be a good idea when you mentioned how we smelled earlier. We can have a warm bath or a cold one. Separate baths, of course.”
“Baths?” she said again, sounding like she could believe anything but that there was a place to have baths here. “In the green and yellow tent? But I thought…”
“Yes?”
She blushed a little. “I saw you looking at the tent earlier and I thought…”
“Oh.” He smiled as understanding dawned on him. “Is that why you were so angry with me? You thought I wanted to go there for women?”
She nodded, blushing even more.
“I didn’t think you cared,” he teased, and then asked himself why it mattered so much to him if she did. “Despite what you think,” he said looking down at his boots kicking up dust, “I don’t have sex outside of marriage.”
“You don’t?” Was he insane or did she sound relieved?
“No,” he told her, “the Lord forbids it before marriage.”
“Do you wish to marry?” she asked. Her honeyed voice rose sweetly to his ear.
Was she merely curious, or was there another reason she asked?
“Yes,” he told her, “when I meet a woman who means more to me than anything I love now, except my God.”
Her smile warmed his heart and his blood, for it was faint and cautionary, yet she moved closer to him, just by a breath. It meant much to him because he didn’t think she was familiar with being touched.