Chapter 3

She had just fallen asleep shortly before second sunrise when she felt the bottom of a booted foot push against her backside. After spending the rest of the dark hours and the time between first and second sunrise trying not to breathe too deeply because the sharp pain from her ribs nearly made her swoon, she was exhausted. Her entire body ached, from the ride, from sleeping on the hard ground with no covering to keep away the night chill, from the violation and subsequent beating from an unknown assailant and With great effort, she turned her head and blinked her crusty lashes to see Lord Wattan hovering over her only partially blocking out the light of the sun. His lip was curled in disgust as he looked down at her.

"Did you sleep well, Larya?" Without waiting for an answer he squatted beside her and reached down to untie her from the tree. Despite the pain, she breathed in his scent just to be sure that he had not been the monster that had brutalized her in the darkest hours of the night. He had the clean musky scent of a male that bathed regularly, smelled clean even now, and she saw that his hair was damp.

The rope came free and he pushed himself up, grasping a handful of Larya's now ragged tunic, dragging her up so that they were nose to nose. "You stink like a used whore."

Larya was finding it hard to maintain her composure when the pain in her side was making her woozy. "That should not surprise you, my lord, when I am one."

He shook her, and she saw small explosions of light. "Which of my men did you invite between your thighs?"

She grimaced although she had meant to smile coquetishly. "Are you sorry that it was not you, my lord?"

He raised his hand to strike her with his fist and she tensed, preparing for the blow, but his fingers uncurled and he lowered his hand. "Answer the question, whore."

Larya was so surprised that he had not struck her that she could not think of an answer at first. No man had ever hesitated to hit her, to prove his considerable power over her. Well, that was not entirely true. After interrupting the crown prince in his private moments with his mate with the intention of killing the other female, Larya had expected Prince Trey to beat her, but he had sent her away to the women's quarters, trusting her to remain there until the palace guard fetched her. Of course he knew that she had no where to go and no one to turn to, but when she returned to Lady Xuxa's wing of the palace, the other females had already learned of their powerful master's disgrace and they had turned on her. When the guards finally came, she was glad to be shut away in the prisons beneath the palace where she would be safer than among the females that despised her.

Lord Wattan's mercy caught her off guard, and she fought to keep her emotions under control as she raised her chin to meet his gaze. "I am sorry, my lord, but we did not exchange pleasantries, and the encounter was so brief that I neglected to inquire of his name."

He stared at her, his gaze hard for a moment, and then he squatted and undid the rope hobbling her at the ankles. As he pulled her along towards the stream, he did not speak, and when he stopped at the bank of the running water, he took his dagger and severed the rope binding her wrists.

"Take care of yourself. Your filth is disgusting." Turning on his heel, he walked a few feet away and stood with his back to her.

She could hear the activity beyond the trees, the men preparing their mounts, talking, laughing, enjoying the morning. Among them was a man that wanted to kill her and she prayed to the gods that she could turn aside the inevitable questions Wattan would put to her. Larya could not identify him, and if Wattan began to question the small contingent of men escorting them to Edgeland Fortress, he probably would not catch the man anyway, leaving him free to return to do much worse to her. Larya did not want to die. Her future was uncertain, but at least she would still be alive.

Kicking off her shoes, she lifted her ankle length tunic and stepped into the chilled water that barely reached her calf. A month ago there would not have been water in this ancient water bed, but since the rains had come to the Wastelands, many such streams crisscrossed the once arid and inhospitable region. Looking up, she saw clouds towering high in the sky, the portent of more rain for the thirsty lands. Larya had heard the rumors in the prison that the Wastelands were now covered in green, that seeds that had been carried there on the winds destined to die were now sprouting. If the gods were showering favor on the new emperor as foretold in the legends, then Larya wondered what the gods meant for her.

Trying to wash as she held her tunic in her hand was proving impossible since her movements were limited by the injury, but when she tried to draw off the filthy, ragged garment, she could not stop her cry of pain and a fresh stream of blood ooze from her nose.

Wattan spun around at the sound and seeing her dilemma, he stepped to her. "Are you unused to caring for yourself, Larya? Have you never taken off your own clothing, or have you left that for your men?" Without waiting for her response, he seized the hem and dragged it up over her head, and when he pulled it up over her arms, the pain from her injury was too much to bear. Even the cold water of the stream when she fell face first into it could not stop her descent into darkness.

When she came back to consciousness, she first became aware that her breathing was easier, that the pain in her side was gone, and then noticed her surroundings. She was inside a tent lying on a soft bedroll amongst pillows. She was wearing an undershirt that was too big for her, and raising the smooth fabric to her face, she breathed in to find a scent that both alarmed and excited her when she recognized it. Reaching up to her ribs, she was not surprised to find that she could probe the place where her assailant had kicked her without feeling pain.

She struggled to sit and heard a couple of cries of dismay before two females she had never seen before hurried to help her. "You should rest longer!"

"I will fetch the lord!" A dark-haired female hurried from her side, ducking out of the tent before Larya could stop her.

Larya shoved away the other female, a pale-haired woman, who was trying to push her down and she managed to get to her feet before the tent flap opened and a man stepped inside.

"You again?" Larya knew she should be grateful to him, but she did not know what the sorcerer had in mind for her.

The handsome male met her gaze. "The females told me you had awakened."

Larya frowned at him, hating the lazy smirk on his handsome face. He was enjoying her misfortune and she wanted to rake her nails, jagged and chipped as they were, across his smooth, tanned cheek. "What are you doing here? Are you following me?"

The Guerani sorcerer snorted and the females giggled. "Why would I do that, Larya? I expected that you had been taken to the Fortress by now."

The tent flap opened again, and this time Lord Wattan entered, and he glanced briefly at Apolo with annoyance before he looked at Larya. "Now that you are awake, we will continue to Edgeland Fortress after first sunrise. We have tarried here long enough." He looked at Apolo and nodded to him respectfully. "Unless you think we should wait another day, my lord."

Lord? Did that mean that the emperor had made his imperial guard a warlord?

"I am eager to begin my duties there," Apolo responded with a nod. He looked back at Larya. "The emperor has appointed me the governor of the Wastelands, so you see, Larya, I did not follow you." He turned his amber gaze on the females and Larya's nerves grated to see them looking at him with adoration and longing. By the gods, she hoped that she did not look at him like that!

"Prepare a meal that I might share with Larya." They sighed with disappointment, but scampered out of the tent to do his bidding. Wattan snorted with amusement and then bowed and left them alone.

After he had gone, Larya glared at Apolo. "I suppose that you healed me with your reputed powers." She pursed her lips for a moment and then added, "my lord."

He arched his brow as he met her gaze and she felt her insides tingling in places that made her remember lying in his arms forgetting about her duty to Lady Xuxa. "Are you denying my power, Larya, after I healed two broken ribs and stopped the bleeding inside your body that would have killed you?"

She would be gods damned to show him any weakness. "Perhaps the gods meant for me to die."

"And perhaps they meant for me to find you and keep you alive." He had moved closer without her realizing it, but when he would have put his hand over hers, she snatched it away.

He exhaled, reminding her of his breathy sighs as he touched her in another tent, another time in the hot sands of the Wastelands where he had made her feel things she had never felt before and probably never would again. Lady Xuxa had taught her to make men quake in her arms, and in doing so she had power over them, power she had used to coax secrets and favors from them for her master. She knew that Lady Xuxa had always listened and watched what she did with so many men, and when she was finished with them, she would have to listen to her critique of her performance. Apolo had made her feel as vulnerable as he had been in her arms, and when they had come together, she had felt as if they had formed a bond, that she was stronger. Lady Xuxa had demanded to know what she had experienced with the Guerani, and Larya had lied to her, knowing the other woman would probably be infuriated with the truth and order a whipping from which she probably never would have risen. As it was, she had been angry that Larya had not chosen a better way of entrapping the crown prince's mate, and she had suffered a beating that had been cut short by her noxious offspring's arrival howling that Lord Wattan was denying him the female that he wanted.

"You have nothing to say, Larya?"

She did not know what he wanted her to say. "It would have been better had I not awakened." Gods, to awaken to her misterable existence would have been much better. Did she really want to keep fighting for survival?

Apolo snorted. "That does not sound like the female I know."

Larya glared at him. "You do not know me, sorcerer!" But then she gasped and closed her hands into fists as she realized he must have used his powers for more than healing her when she was unconscious. "When you touched me, you intruded upon my thoughts!" She tried to scramble away, more disgusted by what he had done than by the animal that had raped her. That beast had only used her body, but Apolo had surely ravished her very essence with his cursed Guerani powers.

He caught her ankle and dragged her back, but she kicked out and swung her hands to beat at him, angry that she could not land a blow, and when he released her and put his hands on her shoulders to steady her, she glared at him and was about to curse him to the netherworld, but her eyes met his and the amber glow mesmerized her until her body ceased to struggle and she felt calming warmth flow through her.

Fighting his magic, she managed to say, "Do you feel how much I hate you, sorcerer?"

"I would never hurt you, Larya," he told her as he continued to hold her gaze. "I healed your body."

"You did more than that," she accused.

He suddenly released her and she fell back against a soft pillow. She had more to say to him – she did not know what but she was sure she would think of plenty – but the females returned carrying bowls of food and a pitcher and cup. Larya did not know how long she had been unconscious from her injuries, but before that she had not eaten in two days, so she was too hungry to be even annoyed by the adoring glances that the females gave Lord Apolo or his appreciative smile that held a promise that was not lost on them. They fawned on him ridiculously while serving Larya with perfunctory haste.

Larya sat up, and tucking her legs beneath her, she took the plate and cup one of the pretty females offered, and she had to control her urge to grab a handful of the seasoned sand slugs to stuff in her mouth. For many days up to the time of her release from the prison into Wattan's hands, she had been given little to eat, and none of it had been prepared. Even this uninspired meal seemed like food from the gods.

But her appetite was spoiled by witnessing the Guerani charming the females, murmuring his thanks for serving them in seductive tones, caressing them with his eyes and his lingering touches when they handed him the plate and cup. After finishing, they headed to the door, but they paused at the opening of the tent.

"Will you be long, my lord?" asked the dark-haired female, darting out her tongue to wet her lips. Her fair-haired companion was waiting breathlessly for his answer and Larya wanted to hurl her plate and cup at the pair.

Apolo smiled at them. "You may warm my pillows for me, Falia. I will not be long."

With gasps of pleasure, they hurried away, and Larya pushed back the hurt that burst forth in her chest. What was that feeling? She absolutely refused to acknowledge it as jealousy. She wanted this Guerani bastard out of her tent as soon as possible.

"Don't let me keep you from your amusements," she said sourly.

His half smile had the power to make her insides flutter and she checked the urge to move anxiously further from him. "If I leave now, I may not get a chance to eat until tomorrow after second sunrise."

Now she wanted to fling her plate into the white teeth he flashed as he gave her a full, knowing smile. "By the gods, you are an arrogant bastard!"

"And you are a stubborn female, Larya." He was still smiling as he took a sip from his cup, and when he licked away a drop of the juice, the sight of his tongue left her breathless as she remembered how it had felt caressing her.

She swallowed nervously and drank from her own cup. Even this plain juice tasted delicious. "Are you using your powers on me?" she asked suspiciously. Had he heightened her senses with his magic so that she enjoyed the food and drink so much now?

He tilted his head and arched his brow. "Why should I use my powers on you, Larya? To what end? Do you think I want to lie against that pillow with you?"

Larya smiled smugly because she had enough experience with males to know that he desired her. "I know that you do." Why else would he follow her like a devoted puppy? He might have been appointed warlord and governor by the emperor, but he had surely hurried after Wattan so that he could catch up to him and reach her.

His own smile faded a fraction and she knew that she had guessed correctly. "What I might want to do, Larya, and what I will do are two entirely different things. I have a need to replenish my powers after healing you, but I will ease my needs with those two lovely females who will not challenge me in and out of my bed. Trey and Arora were furious to learn that I spoke to you before you left, so I cannot imagine how they will react when Wattan tells them that I healed you."

"Then why did you do it?" she demanded.

"I am a healer," he told her with a shrug. "Even my sister would not have moved on knowing how you suffered."

"She would gladly let me die," argued Larya. "She threw a dagger at me!" She shuddered as she remembered the blade that had embedded in the wall next to her head.

Apolo threw back his head in laughter, and when he had finished, he said, "If my sister had wanted you dead, you would be dead. She is an imperial guard; she would not miss unless it was a purpose."

Larya looked away from him to concentrate on her food, but that distraction would not last much longer. She must not look at him, or her resolve to keep him at arm's length would weaken. He was a fool to think he could escape her if she set her mind on seducing him, no matter what waited for him in his pillows.

"So you have risked your emperor's wrath by helping me," she remarked. "Perhaps I should be grateful." She raised her gaze to him and saw him watching her skeptically. "How much more would you risk?"

"What are you suggesting, Larya?" His deep voice made a shiver run down her spine. His eyes were still soft brown, not the bright amber that meant he used his powers. Gods' curse, but he was an attractive male, and that was something she had long ceased to notice in men when they all sweated and grunted the same when they had her trapped among the pillows.

"That you might persuade me to remain at the fortress with you," she dared to say.

As she stared at him, the idea of spending many nights in the comfort of his bed at Edgeland Fortress blossomed into a full fantasy of earning a place in his life. To be the concubine of the emperor's imperial guard was something she should not be dreaming of, not after what she had done, and yet she could not keep her fertile imagination from racing ahead with such dreams. Remembering the child that Arora had brought into the palace, Larya even entertained the thought of holding an infant in her arms. She had wanted to hold Arora's baby, but she dared not come too close to it. The infant, Shamara, would be the first princess ever to be raised in the imperial palace. Her heart ached as she had a moment of desperate longing to bear this man a child.

"You are deluding yourself, Larya, if you think I will counter Trey's order that you be sent to the pirate satellite."

His words seemed to crush her heart as well as her dreams, and as she watched him stand, she felt as if a part of her was peeling away. Larya did not even speak as he took her plate and cup and paused as he bent forward, his face close to hers.

"I am sorry, Larya," he said softly. "The gods have a plan for your life, and Trey has forbidden me a place in that plan." His lips brushed hers, and then he moved away and slipped out of the tent without looking back.

She reached up to touch her lips with her fingertips. By the gods! The Guerani bastard had been using his magic and like a fool she had let him. He might think she wanted him in her life, but she didn't need his help. She was going to survive without that sorcerer!

There was one sure way, well two this night, for Apolo to take his mind off the white-haired female. But once the women he had taken to his pillows were dozing, sated after a long night unknowingly healing him from the weakness resulting in expending magic saving Larya's life, Apolo remained awake and thought of her. Contrary to what she believed, he had not raced after her, had even tarried in Imperia as he gathered a household to take to Edgeland Fortress. Over two dozen women had eagerly offered to accompany him and the legion of warriors pledged to the emperor, warriors of houses Vaan, Chasek and Wattan. His cavalcade had traveled at a leisurely pace until they ran across Wattan's vanguard that had been delayed by Larya's injury.

Apolo had been pleasantly surprised to find that Wattan and his men were still on the road because it meant that Larya was still on Calabria, until Wattan took him to the tent where she lay writhing unconscious in pain. He did not even pause to consider how this would affect him so soon after saving Arora's life, nor how Trey would react when he discovered what he had done. Larya had been only hours from death, and healing her had drained him considerably. For all he knew, Trey did not care if Larya lived or died, but Arora would understand why he had saved her. She was Guerani. How could she not?

Now in the dark of night with two other females tucked against him, Apolo suppressed the anger he felt for Wattan even though no man could feel more remorseful than the warlord now did. He admitted that he had denied any comfort to Larya because she was a prisoner who had committed a heinous crime. But he certainly would not condone what had been done to her by a man under his command during the night as the rest of them lay sleeping. In the days that Larya lay dying, Wattan had tried to find the man that had raped and beaten her nearly to death. Of course none of his men owned up to the deed. Trey's edict concerning women made quite clear the penalty for mistreating females so the man would forfeit his life in admitting to it. Apolo hoped that on the morrow his powers would be sufficiently strong to ferret out the identity of the bastard. He was looking forward to mounting his head by the roadside as a warning.

First sunrise came too soon, and by second sunrise, the females were taking down his tent as he bathed in the stream near the campsite. Wattan's men were also readying for departure, and since fewer men traveled with him, he was ready to leave long before Apolo's men and women were finished breaking their camp. Although he was glad that Wattan hadn't slung Larya over his saddle again, he was bothered to see her perched before him on his mount, sitting in his lap. Apolo knew how it felt to have her backside pressed against him, because he had taken her to his camp on his horse. Gods curse him for spending a good part of the night coming up with an excuse to take her on his horse again.

Wattan looked annoyed to have to touch Larya, but his two commanders, Madex and Draevyn where too busy with their own duties. Deciding to try his best plan to take Larya with him, he strode purposely to them, and while Wattan gave him his attention, Larya did not acknowledge him. Her gaze was fixed straight ahead, but he could see that her jaw was clenched. Apolo was not sure exactly how he affected her, and maybe he was deluding himself to believe that her attraction to him could ever overcome her fear of what he was.

"My lord?" Wattan was an impatient man. "You did not expect us to wait for your retinue?" He looked past Apolo who reluctantly followed his gaze to see the the men of his guard were flirting with the women, hindering their work to ready for departure.

Larya said nothing, still did not look at him. He wanted to reach out with his senses to determine her feelings, but he dared not when she was probably on guard against the intrusion. Some Calabrians could detect Guerani power, and after what she had accused him of the previous night, he thought she might be one of them.

Apolo turned his attention back to Wattan whose knowing frown had the power to make him feel the fool that he was. "I did not have a chance to examine Larya this morning."

"I am fine," she snapped irritably, now looking down at him. "After a good meal and a full night's sleep, I feel much improved."

Madex who was nearby laughed. "Sleep? Who could sleep with all the noise Lord Apolo's females were making? What were you doing to them, sorcerer?"

Apolo might have given a witty rejoinder if he had not seen Larya glance warily at the man and it reminded him of the secondary need to speak to Wattan. "We have not resolved the issue we discussed yesterday." Namely, finding the bastard that had assaulted Larya.

"Are you planning to use your powers?" asked Wattan with a frown. "That would take too long and I have a duty to get Larya to Edgeland Fortress and on one of the pirate ships before they all leave Calabria. They are probably taking advantage of the disorder as we speak to steal our ships. You will have to trust that I will discover his identity and deal with the oath breaker."

Apolo knew he was right, but he could not bear the possibility that her attacker would go free, that he was traveling in their party. Larya would be angry to know that he probed her memories to learn what he could about the man. Unfortunately it had been very little. The bastard had gone to her in the darkest hours of the night, startled her from her sleep so that she was disoriented. He had nearly killed her, had not meant for her to survive the assault and if Apolo had not come upon their camp on his way to Edgeland Fortress, she would be dead.

Larya knew nothing about him except that he smelled unpleasant, a characteristic not uncommon among warriors on the road. Although Wattan did not travel with a large contingent, the greater part of his forces already in the Wastelands awaiting his arrival, he traveled with enough men now that the time Apolo would need to ferret out the villain by reading his thoughts would unreasonably delay him. There were many slave markets in the Wastelands to be dismantled, and females to get to the protection of Edgeland Fortress before the dissenting warlords carried them away to trade among themselves in outright defiance of the emperor's proclamation.

"I will not be the cause of further delay," spoke up Larya.

He looked at her, surprised. "You do not wish to see that man punished?"

She grimaced. "Why? Because he beat me? I assure you, Lord Apolo, that it was not the first time I was used in such a manner. I have no way of identifying him, and soon I will be gone from Calabria where he cannot harm me again."

Apolo reached up to touch her hands which were clasped before her, her wrists still bound, but she stiffened and jerked them away as much as she could to avoid his touch, so he let his hand drop.

"You may be gone from Calabria, Larya, but I will be here and I will not be satisfied until I have found the man."

She raised her chin. "Do as you please, my lord."

Apolo's heart began to beat faster as Wattan took the reins in his hands. He threw a glance over his shoulder to see that his people were not even remotely ready to move on.

"We must go, my lord," prompted Wattan.

Apolo needed to remind himself that this was a physical attraction for the female, one that would fade once she was gone and another female caught his eye, even if he knew in his heart that it was a lie. He had no choice but to step back and let her go to the future the gods would grant her.

He took a step back. "May the gods go with you, Larya."

She did not respond except to purposefully look away from him, and when Wattan turned his horse away, she did not look back. Apolo fought the wave of sadness that swept over him as he watched Wattan leave, unable to see Larya behind his large body. And when he could no longer see them, he released a long sigh. He would ask the gods to protect her so that maybe some day he would see her again.