Brave are the Lonely Read online

Page 8


  Opening the trunk, she shifted aside another pot to reach beneath it for the red dress. A small pouch of herbs fell into her hands. Lifting the pouch, she studied it carefully. If her father insisted on this farce, she would be required to serve the blonde giant.

  Fist closing around the pouch, she let out a sigh of relief. She would dress the part, she would play the part and she would feed the wolf. The herbs would take care of the rest. When the next day dawned, she would guide her wagon over the hill with her clan and not look back.

  Chapter 9

  The bonfire flickered in the gathering dusk, like a beacon, calling them back to the camp. Kid rode ahead, fording the river at the shallows and guiding his horse into the welcome greeting that roused from the gathered. Offers were made to care for the horses, but Kid declined all of them. Caring for his horse was the one task that Kid never passed along, not even to Cody. Every camp they’d made since leaving Fort Courage began with Kid tending the horses, so he left him to it.

  The caravan boasted more people now, more males. The scents of them twisted around one another, intertwining with the meat, the ale and the softer smells of the women. Grief gave the impromptu celebration an unexpected bite. Several paused in their conversations to give him a wave of greeting, more still clapped him on the shoulder in a show of disconcerting familiarity. He found the wailing mother from earlier, sitting right at the edge of the fire, her gaze lost. Cody wanted to offer her some small measure of comfort, but nothing could ease the loss of a loved one, much less a child.

  So he skirted away from her grief, leaving her to mourn in peace amongst the mad rabble. The observation of death was a personal thing, one that should never be judged or amended to please someone else. But the festive atmosphere seemed completely at odds with the mother’s grief.

  “Something wrong with our fire?” The acerbic tone jerked his attention away from the flames. Mariska stood directly in his path, her hostility evident even in the softening shadows cast by the firelight. Her long tumble of black hair fell in curling waves over her shoulders. Silver hoops peeked out from the waterfall of night to catch the light.

  Stepping closer to him, his gaze dipped to the scarlet colored dress. Mouth tightening, Cody forced his gaze up. He could have wished she’d stayed in the darker skirts and cream blouse from earlier. Torn, it was a better look than the red.

  The wolf growled in agreement. Red conjured an image of Scarlett, neither he nor the wolf wanted to think about her right now.

  “It’s a fire.” Cody shrugged, but fire conjured a second image of Scarlett. This one teasing him, nose wrinkled, as though she smelled something funny. His sister loved to tease him, particularly when he was in a bad mood.

  “Then why are you scowling at it? You have no right to disapprove of our ways.” Mariska rounded him, planting herself back in the path of his gaze. He studied her face, the sweeping high cheekbones, the heart shaped bow created by her parted lips. If she didn’t speak, he’d call her delicate.

  “My father wishes to honor you and your friend for saving us, but that gives you no right to frown at us so.” But she did speak and that destroyed the delicate image. She wasn’t the rose.

  She was the thorn.

  A thorn in his paw.

  “I’m not disapproving.” What the hell had he done that so offended her?

  “Then you shouldn’t scowl. You’ll make your hosts believe you do not want to be here.” Haughtiness lifted her chin, her jaw firming. Her cat like eyes continued to spit at him. The wolf growled.

  “Look, princess. Your father insisted we come back. I’d have happily been on my way, but Kid said it would be rude not to come back. So here we are. You don’t have to like it.” I sure as hell don’t.

  But he refrained from saying that. Her anger cloaked her, dulling the sweet cinnamon he’d sampled earlier. The muskier odors eddying around them didn’t detract from the sweet nuisance of her scent.

  “Then you should smile, not scowl. Come with me. You are to sit in a place of honor.” Snapping her fingers, she pivoted on one foot and marched away, leaving him little choice but to follow her. The wolf lurked behind his eyes, studying her retreating figure. Her curves were as bold as the rest of her, well shaped and inviting.

  As inviting as a sweetly balanced blade and just as dangerous. Biting back a grimace, Cody trailed after her. Instead of the ground, folded half chairs waited next to Mariska’s cheerfully welcoming father and frowning grandmother. He doubted his spitting kitten would take her to task for scowling.

  Heinrig rose to his feet and struck out his hand toward Cody. Pushing the wolf back he ignored the animal’s raised hackles and met the man, handshake for handshake.

  “We are most happy to welcome you to our fire this night…” Heinrig paused, giving him time to supply his own name.

  “Cody, sir. Just Cody.” He could have added the Morning Star appellation that his siblings favored in honor of their father or the name of his white father. He knew it. When Quanto carried him away from the Louisiana bayou, he’d carried the family bible as well. Cody kept the religious text in a trunk at home on Quanto’s mountain. But Cody Martin belonged to someone else.

  “Then just Cody it is. We welcome you Cody. We welcome your friend Kid Kane.” Heinrig’s voice elevated, carrying across the fire and hushing the gathered. “We thank you for the safety of our most honored daughter and for the families you saved. We will carry Cassian in our hearts, but even with this unbearable weight, we are lifted because the loss of one is bittersweet in the face of our safety.”

  Cody shifted from one foot to the other. Heinrig held his hand throughout the speech, the man’s heart raced and his cheeks flushed from the heat of the fire. He seemed to be enjoying the spectacle as much as he was the chance to express his gratitude. Gaze skating away from Heinrig, he found Mariska staring at him. Her mouth tightened and her gaze flicked away, but for one brief moment, she’d been smiling.

  A true smile.

  Heinrig pumped his arm in a quick shake, finally releasing him. But when Cody looked back, Mariska’s attention was focused on ladling food into bowls. Was that smile for him? Had he done something right? Or had she merely been amused at his discomfort?

  Relief flooded him when the older man waved him to his seat, but it was tempered by irritation. Where the hell was Kid? No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he realized he knew just where Kid was.

  Somewhere in one of those wagons, Kid tumbling one of these people’s women. Gritting his teeth, Cody could only hope he didn’t get caught at it. The boy dipped his cock in every female he came across or so it seemed. Maybe he had the good sense to choose an unmarried one this time.

  Course, if he deflowers one of this clan’s virgins, he’ll end up being married to her. Amusement flickered around the corners of his irritation and he had to grit his teeth to block the snort of laughter. Fortunately for Kid—unfortunately for Cody—most of the gathered seemed to be paying attention to Heinrig and to Cody.

  “We commit Cassian to the road, may he find respite upon his journey with our forefathers and mothers. May they carry him to great freedom, plentiful supplies and sunny skies.” Heinrig bowed his head, as did many around the fire.

  The solemnity of the moment wasn’t lost on Cody. He reached up and removed his hat, holding it to his chest much as Kid had earlier. Feet shuffled and the fire crackled in the stretch of silence that followed.

  “Good journeys, Cassian.” The words carried across the spill of silence to whisk away on the river. As one, everyone present seemed to murmur the same words, the whispers swishing along to follow Heinrig’s louder charge until they were but a distant memory. A soft sobbing tugged at Cody’s heart. The mother’s quiet tears were muffled against the shirt of the man holding her. One by one, those nearest the mother touched her hair, brushed her shoulder, offering small comfort.

  Sighing, Cody looked away. He didn’t want to intrude on her moment. Mariska stared at him again, her e
xpression carrying a taste of the sadness he’d glimpsed on the mother’s face. He offered her a small smile, the woman grieved for the loss of the boy. Maybe that explained her terse attitude and anger. Did she blame him for saving her and not the boy?

  His heart thudded against his ribs. Maybe if they’d been closer. Or if he’d traveled as a wolf rather than a man…maybe he could have saved them both.

  Disturbed, Cody bowed his head. Was it his fault they mourned the child? Could he and Kid have done more?

  “And so, in memory of our Cassian and to honor our guests, we will toast the Red tonight. Like Cassian, the Red faced the enemies of the Travelers, meeting the threat and drawing it away. She gave time to her people and so we always remember the Red, for without the Red, we would not be here to share our fire, our food and our families.” The man’s voice dropped an octave, the storyteller weaving his tale.

  “Once, in the woods of the old country, the Travelers made their way through the Dark Wood from Daminsk to Schwae. The snow fell early that year, freezing crops before they could be harvested, driving away the game to huddle against the misery of the cutting winds. But Daminsk closed their gates to the Travelers, the road to Schwae the only option. The Dark Woods promised danger, but lurking beneath the unwelcoming Daminsk gates promised death.

  “The Travelers battened down their wagons and sent their horses to follow the road, each wagon carrying the torch, a caravan of heat and light to ward away the darkness. But the wolves, starved and bold, were not dissuaded. They haunted the path of Travelers, stealing away the littlest of littles at every opportunity. The Travelers ventured deeper until only the black of night surrounded their torches.”

  Heinrig paused as though allowing his audience to absorb the words. Worry frayed the edge of Cody’s concentration. The threat of a hungry wolf pack was no small matter. Most of his wild brethren avoided humans. He’d stalked a pack for nearly a week, only to have them slip away before he could venture amongst them.

  Wolves were predators. But so were humans. The winter must have been harsh, indeed, for the wolves to continue to follow the Travelers.

  “Two nights into the journey the Travelers feared they would never see light again, for even when the sun rose the gray half light revealed their stalkers pacing them through the forest. Children huddled inside the wagons, the men kept their weapons at ready and even the women gathered up stones for slinging. On the third night the wolves attacked. They carried away two men and four women, leaving only the bloodiest of remains for the families to mourn. So it was that Red stepped up to declare they must pay a toll to the wolves, they wanted their fill of blood and bone, so it was blood and bone they should be offered.

  “Though her mother begged her and her father forbid it, Red was convinced. Red dressed herself, wearing only a thin chemise and the red hood of marriage. She carried her single torch into the darkened wood, blazing off into the darkness.

  “The families gathered closer together, the warmth of the flame little comfort in the bleak night. The wolves came, the sound of them crunching leaves under their feet, the harsh whuffs of their breath thundered in the stillness of the night, but Red did not slow her step, nor did she look back. “

  Cody was on the edge of his seat, hands clasped together. He didn’t bother to disguise his stare. How the hell could they have let a girl go out to face a wolf pack? He wasn’t sure whether to be disgusted with the cowardice of her people or filled with admiration for her bold choice.

  A hand covered his and he jolted. Mariska knelt next to him on the ground, her expression almost kind. Her slender fingers relaxed the hard knot of tension locking his fingers together. To Cody’s surprise, it wasn’t Heinrig who continued the story, but the dark haired kitten kneeling at his feet.

  “The Red went into the forest,” Mariska’s accent added a huskier note to her voice. “She carried neither blade nor stone, only her torch to light her way. The wind blew her thin chemise against her body, wrapping her legs in the length of its skirt and her red cloak flared behind her, offering no respite from the cold. She did not allow her teeth to chatter and marked her steps carefully lest she stumbled.

  “Around her the wolves closed in, the heat of their bodies glowing like small torches in the darkness. She looked not to her people behind or to the wolves around, but to the path in front of her. Only when the great wolf appeared in front of her did she pause. The wolf’s great size terrified her, but she looked not away from the blazing glow of his eyes. With great care, she held her torch aloft and knelt amongst the crackling leaves, her cloak spilling about her like a puddle of blood.

  ‘To you, oh great wolf,’ she murmured. ‘I offer blood and bone. To you great wolf, I ask for the passage of the Travelers through these empty woods. Take me, great wolf and let my people go.’ The Red then took her torch and upended it into the dirt, the wet snow and mud extinguishing its flame and plunging her into the icy blackness of certain death.”

  A flash of movement showed Kid arriving back to the fire, his shirt untucked and his hair rumpled. Cody inhaled a lungful of Mariska’s sweet feminine scent and avoided the stench of sex that rolled off Kid. Without a thought for why he did it, Cody unclenched his curled hands and turned his palm up to catch Mariska’s hand in his. He gave her just the barest of squeezes, urging her to continue.

  It was as though she told the story only to him and he wanted to hear how the Red met her death. Such a sacrifice, stupid or not, deserved his attention.

  “The Red waited, bowing her head. She was certain the next sensation would be the wolf’s teeth tearing out her throat, but the Great Wolf’s breath warmed her cheek, then her shoulder and finally her breast. His fur slid along her skin, stiff with cold, but warm beneath. He circled her, head rubbing against her shoulders, her back, even her buttocks hidden beneath the chemise and cloak. Every pass rubbed more of the Great Wolf against her until heat prickled her skin, growing hotter with each rub of his body against hers.

  “Wonder filled the Red and when his head brushed her cheek again, she lifted one hand and touched his great, furred face. A rasp of a tongue coated her palm, but no teeth flashed. And then the wolf lunged away from her, smacking into the body of another wolf. The sounds raged around her, the scent of blood filled the air, the rent of flesh and the cries of the wounded, but only the wolves fought. Through it all the Red knelt, waiting, until the Great Wolf returned, limping, bloodied and hot. His breath stung her as he gazed into her face. Her eyes, now accustomed to the darkness, saw tempered wisdom in his hot gaze.

  “And she knew that her gift of blood and bone had been received. Behind her, in the dark of the wood, no other sound whispered. The Travelers, her people, had moved on following the now empty road. The Great Wolf urged her to her feet and led her through the dark. Her clan mourned the loss of Red, the great sacrifice and honors her in the red of our wagons, the gifts of blood and bone and no Traveler again experienced loss in the Dark Wood. For when the wolves came, so did the glimpse of the Red, always with her Great Wolf at her side.”

  Mariska squeezed his fingers and rose to her feet, dragging his gaze with her. Her red dress made sense now. Turning away from Cody, Mariska looked to her father. Heinrig smiled benevolently, a heavy chalice in his hand. “So tonight, we drink to The Red.”

  “The Red!” Came the echoing response.

  “And the Great Wolf!” Mariska held up a second chalice.

  “The Great Wolf!”

  “May she ever watch over our path.”

  “To the journey!”

  Cody had no chalice to raise but when Mariska turned, holding out the cup in her hand, he accepted it. The wolf sniffed suspiciously at the scents of cider, ale and mulling spices. But Cody swallowed the drink regardless, because the moment the cup touched his lips, Mariska smiled.

  The fire, the red and the tale of the wolf faded.

  Her smile was exquisite.

  Chapter 10

  The storytelling led to the passing of ale,
the ladling of food and quiet bursts of spontaneous conversation. Weariness rolled over Cody like the blanket of night shrouding the landscape. Smothering a yawn he kept an eye on Kid. A slender young woman made a point of serving him, but the casual intimacy in the way her hand lingered on his and the arch of her back strained her ample bosom against the corset of her dress.

  Another yawn cracked his jaw. Scrubbing a hand against the beard coating his face Cody considered where he would make his camp tonight. He’d already decided against the wagons, particularly the one Heinrig pointed out to them. He didn’t want to sleep amongst the Travelers at all. Intriguing story aside and the scent of Mariska lingering on his hands, he thought it best to take his rest away from the potential danger.

  Rising from the stool, he stretched and carried the bowl and goblet toward three women chattering over the dishes they were washing in a great tub. Nodding his head politely, he scraped the remnants and set the dishes into the water. They waved him off when he would have cleaned up after himself. The lead weights of exhaustion wrapped around his limbs. Thankfully, Heinrig and Mariska’s disapproving grandmother were absent from their chairs when he returned to reclaim his hat.

  A scan of the campsite revealed the woman in question standing away from the fireside revelry, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, arms folded across her chest. The wind teased her wild tumble black hair, creating a halo effect. The cloak of night shadows only enhanced her allure. The wolf crouched, the animal’s wariness striking Cody full force. The wolf didn’t trust their dark eyed kitten.

  A third yawn decided Cody on his course. He and Kid would abandon the Travelers soon enough to sleep and that would be that. If he wanted to make amends for whatever perceived insult he’d delivered, now was the time. She’d held his hand during that story, as though comforting him. Her earlier fury abated in those quiet moments, punctuated by the crackle of fire and the distant memory of the old lands and the heroine.