"And did they treat you as a returning daughter--or as damaged goods?"

In the mirror, she saw a deep furrow creasing his brow. "I fell in love with my captor," she said, not daring to turn around. "Orithia's not in love with Hasani, just using him. There's a difference."

"The difference being you wanted to stay in Diabolusia."

"Aye."

"And now?"

She turned, expecting anger on his face. But what she saw deeply touched her--a little boy's anxiousness to be loved and a grown man's uncertainty that he was. Aradia placed her hand against his cheek. "I am where I belong. More than that, warrior, I am where I want to be."

He stood rigid as he looked down at her. "You no longer wish you had been allowed to stay with him?"

"I repeat--I am where Iwant to be."

Still he would not unbend. His expression turned hard, his eyes cold. "Do you still have thoughts of him?"

"I have memories of my time in Diabolusia."

"That is not what I asked!"

"Aye," she said, not wanting any lies or secrets between them. "I think of him now and again, but never will I allow my thoughts to turn me away from you. I'll not allow those thoughts to interfere with the life you and I will make together."

"I'm your husband," he said, his voice fierce.

Aradia shivered. "And I'm your wife."

"Damned right you are!"

Jaelan's arms snaked around her, dragging her to him in a crush that took away her breath. She felt the strength of his body from her breasts to her knees. His sword hand, buried in her loose hair, anchored her head for his lips to plunder her mouth. His left hand gripped her buttocks in a punishing clench that molded her lower body to his straining shaft. She opened her lips, resigning herself to the sweet torment his tongue inflicted, surrendering to the rape. Her legs felt weak, unable to hold her, and she sagged against him as she felt the pulse of the bulge at his thighs.

He dipped his knees and slid his arm beneath her legs. He lifted her high against him, cradling her like a trophy of war, and carried her to their bed. After settling her, he shucked off his robe and put his hands on the neckline of her cotton nightgown. In one urgent motion, he shredded the material, revealing her luscious curves to his eager gaze.

Aradia worried over the condition of his back and did not want him to hurt himself, but the look on his face as he covered her body with his stilled any protest she entertained. She welcomed him with a lift of her arms, encircling his broad shoulders and reveling in his weight as he settled atop her.

No words passed their lips as Jaelan spread her legs with his knees. He did not fumble in his attempt to take her, his aim steady and sure. He drove deep into her sweetness as surely as a marksman's arrow. Her grunt of satisfaction as the hilt of his fleshy weapon sank into her sent his hands beneath her buttocks to lift her to him. As Aradia's legs went around his hips, securing him within her, Jaelan began the long, deep stroke that would mark her as his own.

Aradia gloried in the full length of him. His heaviness caused a delicious ache in the center of her womb. She yearned to rake her nails into his back, but that desire would have to wait until after he fully healed. Instead, she lightly sank her teeth into the flesh between his shoulder and neck, and at his harsh indrawn breath, she knew the action thrilled him as much as it did her. She felt him quiver, then smiled as the pistoning of his cock increased in speed and depth of penetration, and she tightened her legs around him, arching her back to meet his frenzied thrusts.

He spoke words she did not understand--love words, sex words, she had no doubt. Their cadence and urgency brought shivers of pleasure down her neck. His wiry chest hair, prickling at her sensitive, straining nipples, added to the erotic enjoyment that rapidly claimed her with talons of hot desire.

Jaelan rushed toward climax, but held back, struggling to see his lady fulfilled before satisfying his own need. Sweat broke out on his forehead, ran down his chest, making their bodies slick where they touched. His thrusts went strong and deep, his arms shaking as he kept a portion of his weight from crushing her. At the moment he felt the ripple of her passion begin, heard her gasp, sensed the depth of her climax, he squeezed his eyes shut, straining hard to deny his own release until hers pulsed around him.

"Jaelan!" she cried, her inner muscles milking him.

He let go. The spurt of his seed elicited a roar that startled them both. The bed trembled beneath the strength of his released, and he collapsed atop her, panting, his face against her shoulder.

Gently, she embraced him, holding him as though he were an infant. She smoothed the damp hair from his forehead and kissed him on the temple. Pinned beneath him, she knew a contentment she had not experienced for a long time, and never to the depth to which she had been taken. She knew in her heart she had found her life-mate.

"Do you still believe me too weak to do my duty, wench?" he mumbled.

"Mayhap not your husbandly duty, warrior. The other remains to be seen, doesn't it?"

He shifted his weight and rested beside her, his arm draped possessively around her waist. He snuggled his face against the side of her breast, inhaling deeply the musky scent of her passion mixed with his. Her right arm gripped his shoulder, her fingers idly scrolling upon his flesh. The sensation sent prickles of pleasure down his spine.

"Don't ever leave me, Aradia."

"No, warrior, I won't."

"No matter what amount they bid for you," he said, his words slurred with impending sleep.

She knew he thought there would one day come a ransom bid for her, and she knew she should tell him no bid would ever be made. She had gone willingly with him; her people would have disowned her by now. Once, long ago, they'd had no choice but to overlook her liaison with the Diabolusian prince, for she had been young and easily led. But she was older now, understood well what giving herself to a man of her own free will meant amongst the Amazeen. And since her capture five years earlier, the laws of Amazeen had become stricter, and no longer would such liaisons be tolerated. That the man to whom she had allowed her life to be Joined was an enemy far worse than any Diabolusian warrior, would have made the decision to cast her from her tribe easier for her mother and the Council of Elders.

"No matter what amount," she whispered. His soft snoring voiced that her words had comforted him. He believed her worth something in the eyes of her tribe, though she knew her life was now valueless to them. So long as she had value to him, she could forget she was now an outcast to her people. * * * * Furious, Queen Hyacinth ripped apart the paper, her lips skinned back from her teeth. The harsh red enflaming her face contrasted unbecomingly with her orange-flame hair. After casting the paper scraps into the fire, she turned to her cousin, Queen Erudite, and cursed vehemently.

"Calm yourself, Cousin," Erudite advised. "It is not healthy to allow oneself to become so enraged."

"It is notyour daughter pinned beneath the slimy bulk of the Rysalian hippopotamus!" Hyacinth shouted.

"Nay, mine is pinned beneath the weight of a Diabolusian warthog," Erudite said.

Spitting with rage, Hyacinth picked up a crystal goblet and sent it crashing against the stone hearth. Still not satisfied, she yanked at her hair, pulling at the strands with unconcern for either the pain or the possibility of pulling out the tresses by the roots.

Erudite sighed. Her father's side of the family tended to breed unrestraint. Chaleans were not known for being rational. Tempers easily flared, and with liquor added to the mix--as it had been after Hyacinth read the Rysalian message--that temper became a volcano waiting to erupt.

"I must go before the Assembly and seek a declaration of war," Hyacinth announced. "Are you with me?"

"No."

"Why not?" her cousin demanded in a strident shriek.

"Because we could not hope to win against the might of the Rysalians. There are millions of them, and less than ten thousand of us. If we take war to their land, we'll be at a disadvantage. We're used to lush forests and water at every turn. In that hellish place, there are miles upon miles of hot sand with no water in sight. No trees with which to replenish our quivers. When you take war to foreign soil, you're liable to lose."

"I don't want to hear that!"

"I know."

"I want my daughter back!" Hyacinth began to sob wildly, covering her face with her freckled hands.

Sighing once more, Erudite got up from her chair and put a comforting arm around her cousin's shaking shoulders. "Now that we know their intent, let's offer a hefty ransom for Orithia's return. Chances are, the moneygrubbers will pounce. My feeling is we'll have her back before too many more weeks have fled."

"He wants her, Eruie!" Hyacinth whimpered. "That bastard pig wants my little girl! He means to have her. Just as the Diabolusian wanted Aradia! The only way we'll ever get Ori back is if we go into Rysalia and rescue her. We cannot leave an Amazeen in the hands of barbarians."

Erudite's mouth tightened. "Do you forget my Aradia is also a captive, shackled to a Rysalian warrior? I shall never see her again. At least if we offer a large ransom for Orithia, we may be able to gether back."

Hyacinth dismissed the words with a wave of her hand. "Aradia offered herself to that one. She knew what she was doing."

"She Joined with that vile warrior thinking he would see to Orithia's release. Because of it, she has now been voted from the tribe. All foryour daughter!"

"Phillipa said she went willingly to his arms. Your daughter has always had her head turned by a handsome face and muscular body."

Digging her fingernails into her palm, Erudite stormed from the room. As Defense Queen, the Assembly would need her vote before warrioresses could be sent beyond Amazeen shores. No way she would sanction such madness. As angry as she was with Hyacinth, she was angrier still with her oldest daughter. Aradia had thrown away her life for a man not worth the sandal strap of a beggar's footwear.

* * * * In the library where she spent much of her time, Phillipa looked up as her childhood friend entered. From the look on Erudite's face, Phillipa knew the meeting with Hyacinth had not gone well. "She's determined to send our women to war?"

"Over my dead body. I'll not give permission."

"I don't imagine the Council of Elders will, either," Phillipa commented. "Though the Assembly will discuss it, no declaration will be issued." "Oh, war will be declared. Let us get our hands on a Rysalian male and you'll hear screams from here to Asaraba!

What I wouldn't give to have Ben-Ashaman in my interrogation room!"

Okyale cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the women. "There's more to that one than you know, Majesty."

"Well, what does that mean?" Phillipa demanded.

The girl closed her book, marking her place with a raven's feather. "I sensed darkness surrounding him and warned Ardy. But because she insisted on staying with him and sent us home, I've thrown the runes many times, trying to scree why she behaved as she did."

"She saved his life in Diabolusia, remember?" Phillipa said, exasperated. "Obviously she feels some misplaced connection to him."

"Perhaps, but I sensed something deeper between them." Her eyes went to her Queen. "The man has much affection for your daughter."

"Gratefulness for his life," Phillipa scoffed.

"It goes beyond that," Okyale said. "He knew what we were about and could have had us arrested. It would have been safer for him if he had, but he allowed us to leave."

"Because he had Aradia!" Phillipa snapped.

"He had what he wanted."

Erudite moved to the table where Okyale sat. "What did the runes tell you about Ben-Ashaman?"

"That he's not what he seems. There's mystery surrounding him, evil, but it's directedat him, not comingfrom him." She held her Queen's gaze. "Your daughter's safer in his hands than she'd be in any others."

"Does he love her?" Erudite inquired.

"The runes say he does."

"And what of her? What do the runes say of her feelings for him?"

"They say he is her life-mate, and her love is great for him."

Phillipa swore beneath her breath. "Give her a handsome face and the girl melts like butter on a hot griddle!"

Erudite flinched. "Do I need to worry for her with him?"

Okyale shook her head. "The runes have said nothing of harm coming to her."

"Cast the runes for Orithia," Erudite ordered. "I want to know what the Ancient Ones say of that conniving piece of fluff."

Okyale pulled a burlap bag out of the pocket of her gown. She opened it, poured thirteen stones onto the tabletop, then turned each over so the symbols were not visible. After scattering them with the palm of her hand, she closed her eyes.

Her lips moved as she prayed to the Ancient Ones for guidance. When her hand stopped moving, she picked up a stone and transferred it to her left hand. Four times more she repeated the action. She pushed the remaining stones out of the way, then one by one took the five stones from her left hand and set them beside one another. Finally she opened her eyes. Frowning, she turned over two stones, the symbols of which had been hidden, then stepped back.

"It is not good?" Erudite said.

"No, Majesty, it is not." Okyale picked up the first stone. "This is the kai. It tells of Orithia's frame of mind. This says she thinks only of herself." She picked up the second stone. "This is br'ele. It tells her intent--personal gain, no matter the cost." She picked up the third and fourth stone together. "These are cuelm and stah. They tell of what is to come--death, with destruction to follow."

The fifth stone remained on the table. Okyale looked loath to pick it up. She scooped the other stones into her hand and returned them to the burlap pouch.

"That stone," she said, "is overpowering despair. That will be the outcome of Orithia's actions."

"Despair for whom?" Erudite asked.

"The runes do not say." Reluctantly, Okyale picked up the last stone and hurriedly put it into the pouch.

"With any luck, the despair will be the Rysalian king's," Phillipa stated.

"I intend to see Orithia doesnot get what her heart desires," Erudite said. "If her efforts are stymied, the future may reshape itself."

Okyale returned the pouch to her pocket, obviously disturbed by what she had seen. "May I go now, Majesty?"

"Aye," Erudite replied. "And thank you for the reading."

Okyale bobbed her head in acknowledgment, then picked up her book on herbs and their usage. She smiled hesitantly at Phillipa before hurrying from the room.

"She saw something she cared not to share," Erudite remarked.

"I got that feeling, too, but if it had pertained to Aradia, she would have said so."

The Queen sighed. "I think you're right. Now I must go and defend my position with the Assembly. Pray I say the right words and my cousin does not get her wish to send our young women half a world away to fetch a tart unworthy of our time."

"I'm of a mind to go back to Rysalia," Phillipa said. "I don't like the idea of Aradia spending the rest of her life in that heathen place."

"Nor do I, but she can never return to Amazeen anyway," Erudite said, her voice breaking. "The Council of Elders will not allow it."

"She knew what might happen if she tried to help Orithia. We all did."

"Perhaps this has taught your little band of rebels a lesson, my friend." At Phillipa's look of surprise, Erudite laughed.

"Did you think I did not have eyes and ears in your group of misfits? I knew what you were planning an hour before you set out for Rysalia."

"Why didn't you stop us? Aradia would be safe and--"

"I'd hoped she could find a way to rescue her cousin. If she had, her actions would have gone a long way in placing her in the good graces of the Elders. Now..." Erudite wiped at her eyes. "Now, that will never happen."

Phillipa touched her friend's hand. "What can I do?"

"We will send a large ransom offer to Rysalia. I cannot believe Hasani Jaleem is as enamored of Orithia as the Diabolusian was with Aradia."