The disadvantage to being awake all night, Tara mused, was the trying to get to sleep once the sun had risen. She hugged her knees and cast a dour look at the aforementioned heavenly body, which was shining brightly, indifferent to the annoyance of any mere mortal. Then she lowered her gaze to the gray lump at her feet.
Epona didn't seem to be having any trouble sleeping. That wasn't surprising, given the medicine Tara had coaxed into her an hour or two before. She was wrapped snugly up in the gray blanket, her head pillowed on the cloak that Tara had rescued from the wreckage of the ship's cabins. Her eyes were closed, and the peaceful look on her face was marred only by the fading remains of bruising on her cheekbone.
They had made a lot of progress over the past couple of days. Tara had worked tirelessly with the men, clearing away The Nereid's toppled mast, and the splintered wood it had left in its wake. The rebuilding process was beginning even now. She glanced out at the ship anchored in the bay. If she squinted, she could just make out the sailors crawling all over it. They hoped to have the new mast erected by nightfall.
Tara looked down at the sleeping slave, and smiled ruefully, remembering how Epona had worked so gamely all last night. She'd insisted on helping the cooking crew, even with one arm out of commission. Then she'd begged to help bring the galley slaves their rations until Tara had finally given in, and taken her over to the ship's hold.
The slaves had remembered Epona. They hadn't spoken, but Tara could tell by the way they'd looked at the smaller woman. Under Tara's watchful eye, Epona had helped to hand out the rations and spoken kindly to them. She'd even gotten a smile out of one or two of them.
The warrior studied her slave with some bemusement, her eyes moving slowly over the relaxed little face. She still hadn't really had time to process what she'd realized during the storm. I love her. Brown eyes lingered on a small hand that protruded from the blanket. This tiny, foolish, naïve, sentimental, bleeding-heart little do-gooder. I…I love her.
Tara rubbed her face. Ugh. Somewhere, the gods are laughing at me. She found her hand drifting out to touch the girl. She paused, wrestling with herself for a moment. Then, with a sigh, she gave in to the compulsion. Her callused fingers threaded gently through Epona's mop of dark hair. What does this mean? she wondered. I mean, I know what would happen if I lived a normal life. I'd settle down somewhere with her, or something like that, I guess. But I don't.
And it won't happen, either. Tara gazed out at the ocean in pensive silence. The minute I sit still for longer than a week or two, someone or something tracks me down, and I have to move on or get killed. Not that I really care – I like the open road. But the kid will be different. Once the romance of adventure wears off, she'll want to find a place to make a home. And I can't. I draw danger…I'll draw it to her, too. Her dark eyes flicked to the mostly-vanished bruise on Epona's face. Not that I'm not dangerous to her, myself.
The bitterness of the thought surprised her. Tara examined it curiously. I guess I regret beating her this last time. She didn't deserve it, not really. Yeah, she was stupid not to shut the hell up when she saw she was ticking me off, but she wasn't really doing anything wrong. The warrior examined her own hands. And I'm a whole hell of a lot stronger than she is. I could really hurt her. She sighed deeply. Her restless thoughts quieted for a while, and Tara soaked in the peace of the gentle ocean waves that were washing the shore not far from where she sat.
I better not tell the kid, came the quiet thought. It'd make her expect a whole load of ridiculous crap that she'll never get from me. Reads too much poetry…I mean, gods, the runt quoted Sappho at me. Sappho! What was that rubbish? 'Scatter the grace from your eyes?' The warrior rolled her eyes. What the hell is that even supposed to mean? Her hand slipped over to stroke Epona's cheek, almost of its own accord. Tara regarded it ruefully. Bloody Hades, I'm getting touchy-feely. I better watch it, or I'm going to ruin my reputation.
Footsteps crunched in the gravel. Tara quickly snatched her hand back and looked up, hunting for a suitable scowl. Then she stopped; it was the distinctive, craggy face of the old sailor she'd rescued during the storm. He was limping noticeably, and there was a line of ugly stitches along the side of his leg. He paused and nodded at her. "Pardon the interruption," he said gruffly. "Name's Giles. I'll leave ye be. Jes' wanted to thank ye for haulin' my carcass off the railin' in that storm."
Tara looked at him in silence for a moment. Would I even have done it if Epona hadn't asked me? Maybe. She favored him with a slow nod.
He jerked his head in response. Then, as he turned away, he paused. "How's the little one?" he asked hesitantly, glancing past her at the slumbering girl.
The warrior shrugged and looked down. "She's all right," she said shortly. "Broken arm, a few bruises."
"Ah." He nodded gravely. "Is't a bad break?"
"I've seen worse," Tara said noncommittally. Then she sighed and shrugged again. "Hard to say. It's mending straight, but she's broken it before. Time will tell if her arm still works the same after."
"Aye." Giles nodded again. "Hope it does." He turned away. "Nice piece of work wi' them Gauls, too," he added. "Honor havin' you, Tara." And he ambled off toward the other side of the bonfire.
Huh. Tara's brows lifted slightly. Can't say I get that reaction a lot. Well, better than being cursed out, I suppose.
"See?" came a sleepy voice from below. "I knew you could be a hero, ma'am."
The redhead's face crumpled abruptly into a scowl. Groggy green eyes blinked up at her from the ground; Epona gave her a soft, sweet smile. Tara shook her head and pointed sternly. "Don't you start spouting that bardic trash again," she growled. "I'm nothing of the sort. And aren't you supposed to be asleep?"
"I was," Epona murmured. "But I woke up." Small fingers stole out from under the blanket to rub softly against Tara's boot. "It's really not trash, ma'am. You're a hero to those men. They might be dead if it weren't for you."
The corners of Tara's mouth curved downward. "Three 'mights' don't outweigh a few thousand kills," she said. "You might be a good storyteller, but you obviously don't understand basic math." The small girl peered at her quietly, but said nothing. Tara reached down to pat the slim hand. "How's the arm, kid?"
"It's not too bad now." Epona gave another timid smile. "It just hurts a little bit. I can sleep with it, easy."
Tara grunted. "Herbs are working, then." There was silence for a moment or two. Then the warrior, drawn again by some irresistible force, reached out to draw the backs of her fingers down Epona's cheek. She marveled at the smoothness of the girl's skin. "You should sleep," she said quietly. "You worked hard today, beag luch."
"So did you." A small brow wrinkled at her.
"Mmph." Tara grunted again. "Can't sleep," she muttered, looking up at the sunlit ocean. "Too much light. Too much stuff to think about."
"Like what?" Epona's moss-green eyes peered up at her in curiosity.
Caught off-guard, Tara blinked at her. "Stuff," she said curtly. "Nothing you need to worry about." The little slave's gaze dropped, and she laid her head down with a sigh. Tara's fingers threaded idly through Epona's dark curls. The warrior enjoyed the silky feel of them; her fingertips slid gently over the healing cut on the girl's scalp. She watched as Epona's face and body relaxed.
"Ma'am?" The murmur drew Tara's attention. She mumbled her affirmative. The little slave looked up at her. "It's still kind of cold." The green eyes blinked in sleepy innocence. "Do we have another blanket?"
"No." Tara glanced around uncomfortably. She knew what the girl was hinting at, and she wanted to give in, but there were so many people around, and…
By all the gods, Tara, get a hold of yourself, the warrior fumed. She's your slave. It's not like these damn sailors don't know that you sleep together. And this never would have bothered you before you figured out that you've fallen for the squirt, so just…get over it. "Fine. We'll share," Tara said shortly. She didn't miss the look of delight Epona gave her at the success of her ruse. With a scowl, the warrior slipped under the gray blanket and tugged the smaller girl into her arms. Epona snuggled up against her happily. Tara took care not to bump the broken arm as she tucked the blanket around them both. "Now will you just damn go to sleep?" she grumbled, feeling the girl's head cuddle into her shoulder.
"Now I'll do whatever you want, ma'am," Epona whispered, and pressed a tender kiss beneath Tara's chin. "Thank you."
"Whatever." The warrior now had a different problem to contend with. The sensation of the warm little body pressed against hers was a very pleasant one. Very pleasant. Tara felt a burning in her gut, and an almost irresistible desire to slip her hands beneath Epona's shirt to caress the skin whose warmth she could already feel. Damn it. Tara could feel her face flushing. She forced herself to lie still, with her arms rigid and motionless around the slave's body.
"Ma'am?" Tara looked down to see half-closed green eyes peering at her. "What did you really say to those Gauls?"
The warrior forced a smile. "That's just eating at you, isn't it?" Epona nodded gravely, and the Gael chuckled and relented. "It wasn't anything earth-shattering, runt. They know the Morrigan here, too. I just more or less told 'em I was hers, and if they didn't want their asses handed to them via my sword, they could back the hell off. Fortunately, I didn't have to follow through." She tweaked a pink ear that was peeking out from amongst Epona's black curls. "Does that satisfy your curiosity, little mouse? Will you go to sleep now?"
"Yeah." The slave girl kissed Tara's collarbone. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I'll sleep." And she closed her eyes to make good on her promise.
Gradually, Epona's breathing deepened and slowed, and she lay bonelessly against Tara's muscular form. The warrior could feel herself sweating with the effort of lying still, but she sternly disciplined herself against moving. At last, when she was certain the little slave was sound asleep, she set about the ticklish business of untangling herself. Epona's limbs were wrapped around her, so it was difficult to do, but Tara finally managed to release the girl's grip and slide out from under the blanket. She tucked it under the girl's chin and stood up.
Bloody Bacchus balls. Not being in direct contact with the tempting flesh didn't seem to be helping Tara's state much. She hoped her face wasn't as red as it felt. With a frown, she snatched up her javelin and stalked off toward the woods. "Going hunting," she growled at one of the camp guards, who nodded. Right. Hunting. Tara inhaled deeply. And maybe I can find a nice, cold bit of ocean to dunk myself in, while I'm at it. Tara scowled, hefted her weapon, and vanished into the forest's timeless hush.
