Ash Fallen Page 4

  The woman continued to brush the painted mare. She bobbed her head from side to side, as if humming a tune, but no sound came out. Rosalie stared back at her in confusion.

  “She’s deaf and mute,” a man’s voice spoke up from behind her.

  She turned to see a young man approaching, carrying a feeding bucket. He was neatly dressed, and his black hair was slicked straight back. He was of slight build and looked no more than twenty. Rosalie noticed he walked with a slight limp that he tried to conceal.

  “What happened to her?” She couldn’t help but pry.

  “Nobody knows. She wasn’t always like this. It happened shortly after Ash picked her up from Scandindale. Some say she was lovestruck.”

  Rosalie narrowed her eyes. Then the woman and young man burst into laughter and she realized they were messing with her. She turned away in exasperation, but the woman called after her.

  “Wait, sorry. We were just having a little fun with you. Come back.”

  Turning back around, Rosalie softened her glare. She didn’t like to be made the fool, but she missed companionship. “You got me,” she smiled.

  “How many times we played that trick, Leithys?”

  The young man grinned. “Countless times. Since I was about four.” He chuckled to himself as he limped away to complete his chores.

  “That’s my baby brother,” the woman explained, smiling broadly. “He’s not much of a fighter but he’s wonderful with the animals and a hard worker.”

  Rosalie smiled back. “May I help?” she asked, motioning towards the horses. She’d always admired horses – though she’d never owned one herself.

  “Be my guest,” the woman said, handing her a brush. “My name’s Othelia.”

  “Pleased to meet you. Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”

  “Why am I the only woman in the camp?” she said, anticipating the question.

  Rosalie smiled at her. “Is it such an obvious question?”

  “Would be if I was in your shoes.” Othelia frowned, apologetically. “It was thought the men would be too distracted by women in the camp. Most women were happy to stay back and keep the home fires burning. That wasn’t an option for me. Leithys wanted to come – and I’m here to look after Leithys. Been doing it my whole life. They made an exception for me.”

  “Nice of them,” Rosalie said sarcastically.

  “They probably figured I was too fat to get the menfolk excited.”

  “Not true!” Rosalie said. “I mean, I was pretty excited when I saw you,” she said with a wink.

  Othelia snorted with laughter.

  The women fell into comfortable silence as they turned their focus to brushing the tethered horses. The only break in the quiet was when Othelia offered grooming tips. Rosalie hummed softly to herself as she worked, captivity temporarily forgotten. Amongst the company of horses and her newfound friend, she was at peace.

  CHAPTER SIX

  When the men returned from Talkina, Rosalie was on edge. She wanted to ask if there were any casualties. She wanted to ask if they’d taken prisoners. Instead, she avoided Ash altogether and volunteered to help Othelia prepare dinner.

  “Can you cook?” her friend teased.

  “I do alright.” She figured she couldn’t do any worse than the food she’d been served lately, but she kept the sentiment to herself. She got the feeling Othelia might have prepared it.

  The hostel had a generous-sized kitchen. Much of the cookware had been looted, and what remained was in poor shape, but the two women managed to find a couple decent-sized pots. They chopped up vegetables and browned the daulket meat, freshly killed that morning.

  “Who does the hunting?” Rosalie asked. She enjoyed hunting daulket. The magnificent bird, with its large wingspan and aggressive personality, was always a welcome challenge.

  “It depends,” Othelia said as she stirred the broth. “We all take turns.”

  “You hunt too?” Her eyes gleamed at the exciting prospect of hunting with her new friend.

  “Mostly spear hunting. Bullets are in short supply, and my rifle aim isn’t so hot.”

  Rosalie smiled broadly. “I love spear hunting. I was a huntress in my village.” She clamped her mouth shut, fearing she’d revealed too much. She was proud of being a skilled huntress. She’d used her talents to keep herself fed and to make a modest living off selling the meat and skins she hadn’t needed for herself. But Ash still believed her attire marked her as a warrior.

  Othelia noticed her clam up. Smiling warmly, she said, “I’ll put in a good word for you. Perhaps we can take you hunting one of these mornings.”

  Allowing herself to relax again, Rosalie smiled back. “I’d like that very much.”

  At dinner everyone gathered around the campfire, swapping stories and singing old bar tunes. The fact they were in good spirits gave Rosalie hope things had gone well. She scanned the faces of the men for Stryker and Ash, but they were nowhere to be seen. Counting the spoils of their victory, she thought bitterly.

  She also learned the prisoners would be served the warm meal she and Othelia had prepared. The detainees weren’t allowed to join the rest of the men, but their needs hadn’t been forgotten. Rosalie offered to take dinner to them, but her request was denied.

  Once dinner was over, and dishes scrubbed clean, she searched for further excuses to keep herself busy. She learned the hostel contained a laundry room tucked behind the main office. She gathered up bags of dirty clothes from the men, including the prisoners, and headed to the laundry room. When Othelia offered to help, Rosalie politely told her she wanted to be alone. While she waited for the loads to finish, she went over in her head how she would broach the conversation with Ash about how the raid had gone. He was under no obligation to tell her, but something inside her told her he would. Perhaps that’s what scared her – that he would be too truthful if things hadn’t gone well.

  Hours later, when the laundry was washed, dried, and folded, she couldn’t avoid Ash any longer. After making the rounds to deliver the clean clothes, she made her way back to their shared room. She found herself conflicted about seeing him, fearing what he might reveal. But above that fear, she felt longing. She missed him. She could scarcely contain her excitement as she quickened her pace.

  Not sure why, she knocked on the door to room 4 and waited for a response. Ash opened the door to her, shirtless and barefoot. He stepped to the side and invited her in. She entered, and when he closed the door, she stood awkward before him.

  A thousand questions fired off in her brain, each one related to the raid on Talkina and how it had gone. “How are you?” she asked instead.

  He gazed back at her, knowing what she wanted to ask. “No casualties. It went as planned.”

  She nodded, relieved. “And your new prisoners?”

  There was a pause. “We took three new recruits.”

  Rosalie snorted at his choice of words.

  He sighed wearily. “Is this going to be a fight?”

  “No,” she said, averting her eyes. “I don’t want it to be. I just don’t understand.”

  “Someday you will,” he told her. But it’s all he offered up.

  It was getting late, and there was no avoiding the subject of the single bed. “I’m willing to share,” she spoke bravely. Her gaze traveled up and down his bare, muscular chest before resting on his clear blue eyes.

  Ash hesitated, pretending to mull it over for the first time. If he was being honest, he’d been thinking about the single bed since they’d first arrived.

  Heart pounding, she thought of offering for him to tie her up but worried it would give him the wrong idea. Or the right idea.

  “I will sleep on the floor,” he said decidedly.

  “Are you sure? I know you’re struggling with your back.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be fine. I just have to grab some extra blankets from the front office.” He tugged on a shirt and shoes and headed toward the door. With one hand on the door handle,
he stopped and turned to face her. “You going to be okay here?”

  She knew what he meant. Can I trust you to be here when I get back?

  “I’ll be here.”

  Ash took his time securing the blankets. As he inventoried the office, he wondered what he was doing with Rosalie. She was important to the mission but was that enough excuse to keep her at his bedside? He already knew the answer. The woman was maddening. Intriguing. He felt an overwhelming need to protect her – yet, somehow, he knew she didn’t need his protection. She was spirited and strong, and his arms ached to hold her. When he wasn’t with her, she invaded his thoughts without warning. You need to get a handle on this, he scolded himself aloud. Problem was, he didn’t know how. When it came to Rosalie, he was in uncharted waters.

  Rosalie couldn’t sleep. She heard Ash’s restless groans from where he slept on the worn, carpeted floor. She knew he should have taken the bed, but he had to be so irritatingly chivalrous. Now they were both suffering. She crept out of bed. The floor joists flexed and creaked beneath her feet. She froze, but Ash didn’t stir. She crouched beside him, her eyes adjusting to the dark. She sighed when she realized he was lying flat on his back. It would make what she planned to do much harder.

  Slowly, she slid her hands underneath him, feeling around until she found the injured site in his lumbar region. Closing her eyes in concentration, she did her best to ignore the warmth she felt at being so close to him. She murmured a soft chant. As she spoke the soothing words, she felt his pain lessening. She caressed his skin and her fingers tingled as the mending began.

  When both Ash’s groans and the tingling sensation in her fingertips subsided, she knew the pain had left him. Satisfied, she pulled her hands free.

  He stirred and grabbed her, pulling her close. She sucked in her breath in surprise as he pressed her against him.

  “Ash?” she whispered, but he didn’t respond.

  When she realized he was still asleep, she relaxed and allowed herself to remain cradled in his arms. Unable to stop herself, she kissed his bare chest, then rested her cheek where she’d planted the kiss. Desire stirred within her as her imagination ran wild. She wanted to feel his firm hands on her skin and to experience the warmth of his mouth against her lips.

  She reckoned he’d be a generous lover. Unselfish. Experienced, though she didn’t want to think about the women of his past who had shared his bed. She pushed them out of her mind and let herself lay there longer than she should. Finally, body and mind tormented with unfulfilled longing she could no longer endure, she disentangled herself from his arms and snuck back into bed.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “My back feels amazing,” Ash told Rosalie the next morning. He wore a peculiar smile.

  “Sounds like you’re healing up,” she suggested. She bit the inside of her lip to stifle a grin.

  He stared up at her from where he remained stretched out on the floor. “I had the strangest dream last night.” There was a glint of amusement in his eyes and Rosalie felt her cheeks flush.

  Still feigning innocence, she replied, “Really? I slept like a rock.” Unable to meet his gaze, she climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom. “Glad you’re feeling better,” she called over her shoulder. She discarded her clothes on the bathroom floor and stepped into the shower, bracing herself for the frigid water.

  When the water hit her skin, she jumped out of the shower and ran naked back into the bedroom like her hair was on fire. She was shouting excitedly.

  Ash leapt to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

  “Hot water. We have hot water!”

  He chuckled and did his best to keep his eyes from exploring her naked form. “Yeah, they got that fixed last night.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?” She slapped him playfully on the arm. “My day has just been made. I don’t think you understand.” She ran back to the bathroom to bask in the warmth of the steamy water.

  Ash stared after her bare backside as she scampered away, then he sat on the edge of the bed and decided his shower would need to be cold. The woman really didn’t have a shred of modesty.

  Rosalie sat down to breakfast by herself. Most of the camp had eaten and when she’d left the room, Ash was still in the shower. As she grazed on her breakfast of hardened bread and leftover mush, she thought about her predicament. She really needed to find Talon and work out an escape plan. It was the most responsible, rational thing to do. But whenever she was with Ash, somehow escape didn’t feel like a priority.

  “Speaking of hot water,” Ash spoke up behind her, interrupting her thoughts. This time she didn’t jump at his unexpected presence and it pleased him. He sat beside her and handed her a steaming mug. “Krisha tea,” he said.

  “What? Really!” His hair was still wet from the shower and her heart skipped a beat at seeing the seductive way his wayward locks clung to his forehead. She curled her fingers around the warm mug and told herself it was the tea that had her heart pounding. The familiar, spicy scent of the tea filled her with longing and nostalgia. She closed her eyes as she took her first sip, pausing before she swallowed so she could savor the bold flavors. She’d been missing krisha tea since leaving Mabel Village. It was a rare luxury for most; something to be cherished. She had been fortunate to enjoy it in abundance since childhood.

  Her family had harvested the krisha tea leaves in their small garden. When her parents moved away, they’d left her an abundant supply of the leaves, and a few plants to care for on her own. She’d previously relied on her mother’s gardening talents, which were far superior to her own; but her desire to drink krisha tea whenever she wished forced her to step up her game. She’d soon become an expert gardener, tending to the delicate plants daily. They are probably wilted beyond repair now, she thought sadly.

  “How did you know?” She turned to him, amazed.

  Ash shrugged but she caught the grin he tried to mask behind his feigned indifference.

  What he didn’t tell her was he indirectly had Talon to thank for the information. His inside man had a talent for gaining the trust of the prisoners and getting them to talk openly; and Talon loved to talk about Rosalie and the life they had back home. To Ash’s relief, it didn’t appear the two were lovers, though he wondered if they had a past Talon was too much of a gentleman to share.

  “Thank you.” Her eyes flitted to his, then back to her tea.

  When his eyes met hers, he had a vision of her closing her eyes and pressing her luscious lips to his; murmuring in appreciation the way she’d done as she took her first sip of tea. Annoyed with himself and the realization the cold shower hadn’t worked to wrangle his errant thoughts into submission, he shrugged off the fantasy and stood to his feet. “I have to take care of some things,” he muttered sharply, stalking away.

  Rosalie took another sip of her tea and wondered to herself what she’d done to alter his mood so quickly.

  After Ash left that morning, Rosalie made up her mind to find Talon. It might be difficult, but she could be sneaky when she needed to be. She opened the door, not surprised to see a man waiting on the other side. “Bentli, right?”

  The short, heavyset man grunted in response.

  “I was going to find Othelia and see if she needed any help.”

  “Othelia went to the village.”

  The simple sentence was like a punch to her gut. She couldn’t bear the thought of her new friend looting homes and taking people against their will. Anger and frustration stirred within her.

  “Okay,” she said, trying to appear unphased. “Then I think I’ll see what laundry needs to be done.” She’d trained the men to drop off their soiled clothes in the laundry room; even taught them how to separate them into proper piles. Darks, lights; leathers and furs.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “I can take care of myself,” she said, trying to keep her tone light and friendly.

  “I have no doubts that you can,” he said, his tone equally friendly. But he fell into step
beside her. She felt flustered but was determined to get the best of him. A few hours of boredom in the laundry room ought to do him in.

  Rosalie’s assumption was correct. By her second round of laundry, Bentli’s interest was fading. “I’m going to check in on a few things,” he announced. Pretending to be content folding clothes, she shrugged as if it didn’t matter to her whether he stayed with her.

  “I’ll be back.” His voice held a warning.

  “See you in a bit.” She flashed a wink and a smile, then returned her attention to the laundry.

  Bentli paused a moment longer, shifting from one pudgy foot to another. Then, seeming to decide she would remain put, he left the room.

  She waited for the appropriate amount of time to pass before she slipped out of the laundry room. She headed in the direction she knew the prisoners were being held – the backside of the hostel. She was close to her destination when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

  “I figured you couldn’t be trusted.”

  She jumped, then turned to face Ash. Her throat tightened and her spine tingled – an exhilarating blend of fear and anticipation she often felt when she was near him. Her mind raced for an excuse to explain what she was up to. But to her surprise, when she caught his gaze, his expression was one of amusement rather than anger.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, biting her lip nervously. “I just wanted to be sure Talon was alright.”

  “He’s fine.” He kept his tone reassuring, but short.

  “Don’t be mad,” she pleaded, eyes watering. She wasn’t afraid of him, she decided. Her greatest fear at that moment was disappointing him.

  He exhaled slowly as he stared back at her, studying her obvious discomfort. He found her adorable when she was nervous. Gods help him, he found her adorable no matter how she was. He cocked his head ever so slightly and his blue eyes softened. “I’m not mad. I understand why you’d want to check on your friend. I promise you, he’s fine.”