When We Were Kings (The Wolf of Oberhame Book 1) Page 5

  Leyli stood and made her way to the padded area. "See? Wasn't that easier?" she asked, snidely.

  She was almost there when the wagon started moving. Out of habit, Leyli shifted her balance, compensating for the first heave of the horses. The Lion's head snapped up, looking at her intently. Leyli just sighed. She'd done it again.

  "Tell me, Wolf, what did you do before you learned to kill men?" He tilted his head.

  She moved closer to the almost-bed. "Needlepoint. I played with crochet and knitting, too."

  "And what material did you use to knit? Silk?"

  "No, wool. It's much better for my skill level." She took a breath and lifted her chin. "I thought you didn't play politics."

  "I don't, but I'm wondering if you do."

  "That would be inappropriate for a woman."

  Again, he smiled. "Kinda like killing men, huh?"

  "Exactly."

  Then he leaned back, stretching out along the length of the seat. The only room for her was beside his hip. She debated between giving the wrong impression or looking weak. It only took a moment. The Lion seemed more amused at her timid reactions than defiling her body before the other men. Leyli eased herself down beside his hip, shocked when the big man pulled her back against his chest. With one arm, he held her on the bench, preventing her from falling onto the floor.

  "Merino bought you to fight with me, just like today."

  She looked back at him. "I got that impression."

  He nodded once. "That means we're going to be real close. That also means I have a very good interest in keeping your body intact." He put a slight emphasis on the last word. It was subtle, but there. "So stretch out, ease those muscles, and relax while you can. When we get back to the compound, you will be dreaming of down time."

  The man was massive, and there was only one real way to fit beside him. She rolled over, her arms tucked to her chest, and let her head drop against his shoulder. Tristan shifted slightly, giving her that much more room.

  "What happens next?" she asked.

  His voice was soft, but rumbled through his chest. "We'll get back around nightfall. Merino will give you rooms beside mine. Yes, I will have full access to you at all times. The same is not true in the reverse." He looked down.

  "I'm not your whore."

  "No," he promised. "You're my partner. I promise you, Leyli, that my first interest is living. I'll fight with you because I think yours is, too. That's all this is. I still need you to be comfortable with me, and that includes touching."

  "Why?"

  "Because when I press into your back, or end up laying across you, or any of the many other things possible, I can't have you distracted. I don't care if you have tits or a dick. We're about to become a team, and that means my life is literally in your hands. I need you to trust me – so I can trust you."

  "You think I can do this?" she whispered, her voice soft so the other men wouldn't hear.

  He reached between them and touched the side of her nose, just beneath her eye. "He slammed a shield into your broken nose, and you kept fighting. You picked up the swords. You had the balls to tell me to back up so you could get one of your own." He chuckled. "But you told me, you didn't just run off and leave me out there alone. I think you're an amazing gladiator, my little Wolf. You took care of me, now I'm gonna take care of you."

  Chapter 7

  She managed to sleep for most of the way back. It was odd, being wrapped in a man's arms, but Tristan felt like a brother. Something about him was safe and she couldn't figure out why.

  When they arrived, it took a moment before the guards unlocked the cart. The Lion didn't bother getting up, not right away. He waited until the rest of the men left. "Let's see what Merino is planning," he groaned, finally standing.

  Leyli followed behind him. When he jumped off the back, he turned, offering her a hand. She paused, wondering if she'd give herself away again, but the tilt of his head warned her not to fight him. Her fingers closed on his, and Tristan's other hand caught her waist, gently placing her beside him.

  "I think you weigh nothing. There any muscles in your body?" he teased.

  "Yes," she assured him, "and they all hurt."

  "Welcome to Villanelle," Merino said, walking up. He gestured at the training compound. "This can either be a heaven or a hell for a gladiator. My only rule is that you obey me. If you will play by the rules, you will almost be a free woman." He looked at her pointedly. "Almost."

  "I understand."

  He smiled. "Good. Lion, what's yours is hers. She answers to you, and you're in charge of her care and training."

  Tristan nodded. "And her rooms?"

  "Attached. I would prefer that you don't fuck her."

  "Not interested," Tristan assured him. "I just want to get her settled in, her muscles relaxed, and ready to start in the morning."

  Merino slapped his arm gently. "That's my man. Fourteen days until your next match, Lion. I'll send a masseuse."

  Tristan looked at her, a smile spreading. "Send Petya."

  "Not Drustin?"

  "No. I don't want to kill the Wolf before she grows her teeth." Then he draped his arm over Leyli's shoulders and turned her to a row of barracks.

  Torches glowed before each door, set far enough away that they wouldn't burn the roof. The buildings were simple, just wood walls and thatched roofs. It was nothing like what she was used to, but she tried not to gawk. When she stepped inside, she was shocked again.

  Each domicile was little more than two rooms. The first had a table, a desk, and a total of four chairs. At the side was a high set bench like she'd never seen before. In the second room was a bed. The mattress was made of rough down. The blankets were simple wool. Thankfully, at the head lay two pillows. Leyli almost sighed in relief. She couldn't imagine trying to sleep without one.

  Tristan opened a door beside the bed, revealing a closet. "We'll have clothes in your size brought in. They'll go here. At the back is a rack for armor."

  "And a wash room?" She was terrified of the answer.

  He sucked at his teeth. "So merchant or higher. Each room has a chamber pot and wash basin." Then he smiled. "I, on the other hand, have a real bath. Earn Merino ten thousand, and he'll give you the same."

  "Right."

  He gestured to another door off the foot of the bed. "This one leads to my rooms. I'll make you a deal. Each day, I'll give you an objective. Learn it, and I'll share."

  "And my objective for tonight?"

  He leaned closer. "Curse."

  "Bollocks."

  Tristan shook his head. "Like a gladiator, not a lady."

  "Can I get a hint?" She cocked her head to the side and smiled.

  "Fuck, shit, ass, balls. Those are good to start."

  Leyli nodded slowly. "Then fuck this shit, my ass hurts, and I don't have balls."

  Tristan laughed and rubbed her head. "You've got balls, girl, they just aren't between your legs." He pushed open the door to his rooms. "You're welcome until you fuck up. Lock's on my side. I don't promise to always be dressed or decent, but you're going to have to get used to that."

  "I'll learn."

  He glanced at her. "I know." Then he gestured for her to go first.

  Unlike her place, Tristan had all the amenities. His bed was big enough for three. His bedroom was covered in a selection of armor, both fancy and what was obviously for training. His closet stood open, proving it was filled with clothes. In the main room was a table large enough for a whole family, a desk covered in rough sketches, and a pair of well padded chairs. Basically, it looked like a plebeian version of her room in the palace.

  She sighed at the sight. "It looks like a home."

  His eyes flicked to her. "So just up from merchant. You gonna tell me?"

  Leyli shook her head. "The past is gone. I have to learn to make the most of what I have, right?"

  He leaned back against the wall. "I was a blacksmith. Borrowed money to pay the mortgage."

  "Your w
ife?"

  He shook his head. "Not married. Just me, a little brother, my sister, and Mom. Dad was a soldier. Died in the wars. Was working up the balls to ask the miller's daughter, though. Last time I was close, Mom told me she married the baker and has two kids."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Me, too. What about you? Got someone you miss?"

  She pressed her lips together. "My dad. We were always close."

  "Why'd he let your cousin sell you off?"

  "He didn't. My brother tried to stop them, but I think he's dead." She blinked, turning her eyes to the far wall. "My cousin was always interested in what was best for him. Evidently, I was expedient."

  "Think your dad's still alive?" His voice was gentle.

  She chewed at her lip and shrugged. "I don't know. He's not young. If he knew, they would have killed him. All he wanted was to find me a good husband, so he let me wait. If he hadn't, things would be different."

  "Yeah. You'd be sucking some old man's cock and popping out his brood. Is that really what you want?"

  "It was." She sniffed. "It's what women do. It's the only way I could take care of my dad."

  "Hey." He wrapped one arm around her shoulder. "It's ok. By the time you're out, you'll be able to kill your damned cousin. I'll show you how to fight off ten men at once. You're fast, Leyli. We'll make you strong. You may have been born a woman, but I'll bet you were your dad's best son."

  "What if he's dead?"

  "Then you'll cry for him. And if he's alive, he'll love you no matter what."

  Without thinking, she pressed into his chest. "But I'm ruined."

  "No. You're just learning to be strong. If anyone thinks that what you're doing makes you less of a woman, then they're an idiot, ok? If all they can judge you on is some trumped up ideal of propriety, then it's your job to prove them wrong. It doesn't matter if they like you, Leyli. When they fear you, they won't dare say a thing."

  "But I don't know who I'll be when this is all over."

  He hugged her tightly. "I do. You'll be like marble, all smooth on the outside, but solid to the core. Your scars will be made of precious gems and your fears will be those that matter to more people than just you. When you're a free woman, you'll be able to do anything, and won't care if anyone else likes it."

  "And what kind of man would want a wife like that?" She looked up at him through damp lashes.

  He smoothed her hair away from her face. "The kind that will be worthy of you. Dry your eyes, pup. We're going to work out those aches and make you feel a little better. When you're done, I'll let you have a hot bath."

  She sighed and pressed into him one last time. "Know something? You remind me of my brother."

  "A good thing, I hope?"

  She nodded, pulling back to wipe at her face. "Yeah. He was amazing. He never let anything stop him, either."

  "Sounds like it runs in the family."

  He led her back to her rooms where a beautiful woman waited. When she saw Leyli, her eyes grew wide. She looked to Tristan, then back, before taking a deep breath.

  "The Wolf?" Her accent was thick.

  "That's her," Tristan assured the girl. "She's had a rough couple of days. I need her able to swing a sword by morning. Be nice, Petya."

  The girl nodded. "Ok. Clothes off, gladiator. Belly down on the table."

  "What?" Leyli looked at Tristan.

  He grinned and stepped back. "I'll leave you ladies alone. Enjoy it, pup. This is about to be the best thing you've ever felt."

  He was right. She told herself it was no different than when her maid dressed her, and the massage was amazing. By the time Petya was done, her muscles had turned to water, but all of the pain had been eased. Leyli lay on the table, moaning contentedly while the girl giggled at her.

  "How did you get to be a fighter?"

  "Mm." Leyli forced herself to sit up, grabbing the tunic from the chair beside her. "Bad luck. I just figured out how not to die faster than the others."

  She nodded. "And the Lion?"

  "Got chained beside him with a shield. I didn't let him die, so I guess that was something new."

  Petya's brow furrowed. "You're not his lover?"

  "No."

  Then she smiled. "But you would be?"

  "No," Leyli insisted. "I have no choice in this. He's training me to fight with him. Merino thinks we make a good team. That's it."

  "You're an idiot. That man is sex in the flesh. Do you know how much women pay to spend an hour with him? Thousands! He's what we all dream of, and you're the one sharing rooms with him!"

  "He's very handsome."

  Petya's mouth fell open. "That's it? Handsome?" She threw her hands in the air. "I can't fix everything, but at least your muscles will work. Am I supposed to work on him?"

  Leyli shrugged. "I have no idea. Maybe you should ask."

  Knuckles tapped on the wood behind her. Leyli groaned, looking toward her bedroom where the man in question waited. His eyes flicked down to her bare legs, then back up.

  "Feeling better?"

  "Yes, sir."

  His lip curled up. "Good. Hot bath is ready. Petya, I'd love a massage." He glanced at Leyli again. "Which means I'll be laying naked in my main room while you bathe in my tub."

  She cocked her head at him. "Good to know. That means there's at least two walls between us, and I'm sure Petya will enjoy the view."

  Tristan's face finally cracked, the grin taking over. "I knew I liked you for some reason. Towels are in the bath. Take as long as you want, Leyli."

  "Thank you."

  "You're welcome." He tossed her one last devious grin, then headed back to where he'd come from, Petya trailing him obediently.

  Only after they were gone did Leyli slip off the table. A tunic was not a dress, and she had nothing on under it. She waited long enough for the pair to make it into his main room, then found the bath. The tub was glorious. After the massage, the water was magnificent. Being clean with soap that didn't eat away her skin was the best part, though. With patience, she finally managed to work the knots from her hair. When she saw conditioning oil, she felt like she was in heaven. Maybe being a gladiator was almost as good as being a princess. Just with a bit less gold.

  When she was done, Leyli returned to her rooms. Laying across her bed was a cheap version of a night dress. Made of thin cotton, it hung just below her knees, but thankfully fit. She didn't know if Merino or Tristan had done it, but she would thank them both.

  Then she crawled into bed. The blankets weren't pretty, but they were soft. The mattress had a few lumps, but she'd slept in worse. It was the pillows that did her in. Thick and fluffy, they reminded her of home. On the heels of that thought came the memories.

  She'd been in bed when Palino – her own cousin – took her. Laying just like this, her arms around a pillow, her head on the other, she'd thought she was safe. He'd walked right into her room, grabbed her by the hair, then pressed a hand over her eyes. When she kicked out, knocking something from her table, her maid heard. She ran out, crying the alarm, and her brother had come to her rescue.

  Leyli would never forget what came next. The Domn of Lanmont's hand hadn't been enough to completely shield her view. Two men had hacked at her brother while the Domn dragged her out. When she'd tried to pull away, he'd hit her so hard, she'd blacked out. It wasn't soon enough. She'd still seen the sword pierce her brother's chest. There was no way he could be alive.

  She shoved her face into the pillow to stop the sobs. It didn't really help, and made her nose hurt. Instead, she tried to breathe, hoping that would hold the tears at bay, but they were too strong. Laying there, in the darkness, surrounded by things that were almost like home, she couldn't stop reliving it. Her brother was dead and it was all her fault. Kale was dead. They'd never run through the orchards together, ride over the meadows, or stay up late talking. She'd never be able to taunt him about the kitchen girls. All she had left of him were her memories. And it was all because he'd tried to protect her, be
cause she couldn't do it herself!

  The tears came harder and her throat closed. For the first time since she'd been abducted, there was nothing to stop her grief. Leyli fought it, but in the end, sorrow was stronger.

  Weight settled on her mattress. "You're not alone," Tristan whispered, pulling her against him. "Fighting it only makes it fester, but you're not alone. I got you, Leyli. We'll make it through this together."

  She pressed her face into his shoulder like she had so many times with Kale, and just let go. As the sobs wracked her body, the Lion held her, rocking her gently. Eventually, she fell asleep.

  Chapter 8

  She woke the next morning, alone. In the other room, someone was moving. The sound jerked her awake, and she sat up with a gasp. A moment later, Tristan peeked his head in the door.

  "Get up. Get dressed. We train for an hour, then breakfast. Four hours, then lunch. Four more hours, then dinner. Then two hours before we quit."

  She pulled the blankets over her chest. "Ok."

  His eyes flicked down. "Now."

  Leyli took a breath and forced herself out of bed, trying to ignore the burning on her cheeks. When she grabbed a tunic and trews from her closet, Tristan left, giving her privacy to change. She barely had the pants over her hips before he was back.

  "How do you do that?" she snapped.

  He chuckled. "Ok, points for noticing. I listen. That's it. Every day I'll push you a little bit out of your comfort zone. Every day you will get stronger. In fourteen days, we will kill a lot of people then live to gloat about it."

  "I'm trying."

  He nodded. "I know. Now come sit down and let me do your hair."

  "My hair?" What kind of mess would a man make of her hair?

  "Yes. In the games we don't get maids. That doesn't mean we aren't expected to look the part." He tilted his head in a near shrug. "I've managed to learn a few things."

  She sat and he gently worked out the tangles. Then he began plaiting it on either side of her head. His fingers were deft but gentle, locking the strands out of her eyes without pulling. Tristan's skill was nearly as good as her former maid.