Stung by Phillipa's nasty tone and angry visage, Aradia said nothing. She watched as the others made ready to leave, with only Euryleia meeting her gaze.

"Come with us," Eury pleaded.

"If I do not return, know I love each of you and my thoughts will be with you."

"Her thoughts are on an amber-eyed devil," Phillipa hissed. She pushed past Okyale and jerked open the door. The sound of her heavy footsteps marked paid to the argument between her and Aradia.

Euryleia's face pinched with concern. "This is not the way it should happen."

"Go," Aradia insisted, taking her friend's arm and leading her to the door. "Ride with the Wind at your back."

From his window, Jaelan watched the women trudging through the mud toward the stable. He winced as the older woman--the witch, he had named her in his mind--hammered savagely at the door to wake the stable boy.

Half an hour later, a long sigh escaped him when he counted the number of robed women riding from the stable. Just as he knew she would, the one named Aradia had stayed behind.

Leaving the window to lie across his bed, his arm thrown over his face, he wasn't sure if he felt anger or exasperation that she had not gone with her countrywomen.

Either way, he knew their paths were destined to cross again.

He would make sure of it.

Chapter 5.

It proved easy to follow her tracks in the mud. The rain had turned the roadway to a quagmire along which no wheeled conveyance could pass. Even his stallion's hooves made sucking sounds. He kept well behind, knowing where she was going, content to let her travel. He had eaten a leisurely breakfast while his horse was being saddled and had taken to the road an hour after her. The morning light was like dull gray wool spread over the heavens, and a cool breeze kept him alert.

Occasionally he thought of homing in on her thoughts, but a part of him was loath to use his talents to pluck her musings from the ether. Reading her mind had proven effortless the evening before simply because she had not been expecting his invasion of her privacy. Today, however, he knew she would be on guard and might sense him trying to intrude. He knew he needed the element of surprise when dealing with this woman, so he kept his probing in check even though he itched to know what she thought about him.

Over the years, he had thought of her more often than he cared to admit. His nightmares led him back to her that day; his dreams sent him beyond the moment they parted; his daydreams built fleeting scenarios in which they were more than strangers passing on a storm-driven day. The endings of his imaginings were far different than that which had actually happened after she and her prince had ridden away.

Shaking free of the memories, he kicked his heels against the stallion's side. The wind picked up, and when he looked to the west, he frowned at the black clouds building on the horizon. Abbadon fortress lay ten miles to the north, but even at a fast clip, he knew he would not make it before the storm came. With it, he could sense the dangerous lightning. A few miles ahead, though, caves would provide ample shelter. His only concern was whether the Amazeen would stop there for sanctuary.

"Then don't give her a choice," he thought as he heard distant rumbling behind him.

Using his god's-given gift had never proven to be difficult. Most times, nudging people to do as he bid was simply a matter of "thinking" the action into their minds, planting it like a seedling and allowing it to spread its roots. He was careful how and with whom he exercised his supernatural endowment, for once he established control over an individual, it became tempting to continue leading them. His care extended to making sure the object of his suggestion was not aware of his meddling. With a threat looming behind them, he knew he would need to throw caution to the wind and break into the Amazeen's thoughts.

"Are you near the caves, wench?"he whispered, though his lips never moved. He closed his eyes, picturing her plodding along on the gray mare.

"They are over there," she replied in his mind.

He knew she would not realize she had spoken, would not even remember lifting her hand and pointing to the cave system.

"Make for the one on the left. The one with the smallest opening,"he sent out to her. "Do you see it?"

"Aye."

"Go inside. Do not be surprised when I join you. I am no danger to you. Do you understand?"

He saw her nod, then direct her mount toward the cave. Letting out a long breath, he urged his steed to a faster pace. Having no desire to get soaked as he had the night before, he grew anxious. The thought of a dry cave, a shimmering fire built at the entrance to ward off the chilly winds skirling outside as rain lashed, filled him with a peacefulness he had not known for a long time.

* * * * Aradia looked up as the shadow fell over her, blotting out the feeble light from the cave's entrance. She did not start, did not reach for her weapon, though the dagger lay close at hand as Jaelan led his horse into the high-walled enclosure. Instead, she went back to trying to start the fire from the brush she had gathered. She cast him an annoyed look as he unsaddled his mount and left it beside her own at the back of the cave. The smell of wet horse became overpowering.

"Need some help?" he asked, running a hand over his wet face.

She shrugged. "The wood's wet. I don't know if we'll get more than smoke."

Jaelan peeled off his leather jacket. "Have faith, wench."

"If I didn't, I would have ventilated you as soon as I saw you, warrior," she mumbled, wrapping her arms around her to ward off the cold.

He chuckled and hunkered beside her. "Shall I start shaking in my boots now, or wait until you've proven you can wield that toy blade with some degree of expertise?"

She snorted, refusing to rise to his baiting. She moved to sit on a low ledge, propping her chin in her hand, staring at him as he fanned the fire to life. "How long do you think the rain will last?"

"Until it ends."

"Oh, clever response, warrior. Shall I laugh now, or wait until you've proven you can wield humor with some degree of expertise?"

"She walks, she talks, she repeats phrases like a parrot."

"Funny. Are you allowed to have a sense of humor, Shadowlord?"

The smile on Jaelan's face slipped away. "No." Aradia watched him adjust the sticks, then sit cross-legged before the fire, staring into the flames. The red-gold flicker playing across his face lit the amber glow in his eyes, brought out the shine of his dark hair. She thought she had never seen as handsome a male as the one sharing the damp cave with her. "You know I will not allow you to gain access to the woman at Abbadon," he whispered. She shrugged. "And you know I will keep trying." "You like to court danger, do you?" "I don't go looking for it, but neither will I run from it. I vowed to bring my sister home, and honor decrees I do everything in my power to make that happen." "As I will do everything in mine to make sure you don't." He looked into the fire. "Unless..." "Unless what?" The fire burned nicely, the heat warming the dank confines. Jaelan scooted over to lean his back against the wall. He crossed his booted ankles and folded his arms. "Unless we can come to an understanding." Aradia cocked her head. "What do you have in mind, warrior?" He hitched his right shoulder. "A compromise, of sorts." "Compromise is good," she said, scratching her cheek. "Tell me what you're thinking and I'll tell you if it's doable." A slow smile tugged at Jaelan's expressive mouth. "Oh, it will be doable, wench, or your sister stays where she is." Dragging in a long breath, Aradia waited for him to give her the particulars of the deal he seemed intent on making.

She refused to allow the nervousness clogging her throat or the expectation pumping furiously through her veins to give the slightest hint of her eagerness to hear what he had to say. Pretending nonchalance proved the hardest thing she had done of late, but she held her ground and her tongue, and waited.

But Jaelan seemed in no hurry to put his cards on the table. The silence unraveled, save for the pummeling of rain outside the cave. He closed his eyes and appeared to be courting sleep. Aradia lowered her head, giving in to the tiredness catching up with her.

Time dripped away, raindrop-by-raindrop, and the stillness became a battle of wills with neither willing to end the stalemate. As minutes dragged by, nerves began to fray. They turned to one another at the same time, each impressed with the other's ability to bide his or her time.

"All right. Spit it out," Aradia said, angry at giving in first. "I can set her free, and see her safely across the border." "Why would you do that?" "Because I can." "You have that much authority?" "I do." Aradia ran her fingers over her mouth. "I assume there are conditions." "There always are." She bit her lips. "And what are they?" "Only one." A muscle ticked in his lean cheek. "You remain in Rysalia." Aradia's eyes widened and her face drained of color. "You would install me in the convent in exchange for Orithia's freedom?"

Jaelan frowned. "Did I mention the convent?"

"The seraglio?" she asked, horror turning her voice shrill. "You mean for me to take her place in Jaleem's bed?"

"No, not in the king's bed."

Her heart raced painfully in her chest. "Then some other man's bed?"

He nodded.

"Whose?"

"Mine."

She stared at him and saw steely determination looking back at her. It both frightened and thrilled her. She didn't know how to respond, so used a weapon she knew how to employ--rudeness.

"Oh, in that case, of course. Why not? I barely know you from suppurating road kill, but what the heck? I haven't had a man in five years. I got thrown out of the royal palace at Deseo when my boyfriend was forced to Join with a snow hag, so I'm horny as hell right about now. You could be diseased or practice strange sexual atrocities on your partners, but sure, I'll jump at the chance of being bedded by a fearsome Shadowlord who people fear to cross." Her eyes narrowed, and her lips skinned back from her teeth. "Are you addled? What the hell are you thinking, warrior? Or am I giving you too much credit for being able to reflect at all? What would possess you to...?"

Jaelan turned his gaze toward the fire. "I was thinking of the woman who saved my life. I was thinking I would like to share that life with her because she pleases me and I believe we would do well together."

Aradia snapped her mouth shut, unable to believe she'd heard the words come from the powerful man sitting across from her. His face looked stone-cold hard, his posture just as rigid as the rock wall on which he leaned. He had thrown the ball into her court and awaited her comments. Nothing in his manner bespoke hurry or concern, nor did he seem anxious for her reply.

Supreme confidence on his part, or indifference to whatever decision she made?

Or nervousness that she would reject him and thus had prepared himself by acting nonchalant?

When she finally spoke, her voice sounded strained. "Am I to assume this is not a joke?"

He nodded, but did not look at her.

"Nor a test of my loyalty to Orithia?"

"Our negotiation has nothing to do with your sister. She is merely a bargaining point."

Aradia raised her chin. "What exactly is it you want, warrior?"

Jaelan finally looked at her. "I want you." He held up a staying hand when she opened her mouth to reply. "Let me explain something before you jump down my throat with your righteous anger, wench."

"Stop calling me that!" she snapped, infuriated by the word.

He ignored her outburst, uncrossed his ankles, and raised one leg. He rested his wrist on his knee, flexing his fingers as though they pained him. "I could just as easily arrest you, tie you to your horse, and take you with me to Abbadon as my prisoner. I could go before the Magistrate, ask for, and be given, ownership of you to do with as I please."

Aradia's mouth dropped open.

"No one would gainsay me, and no one would dare interfere. This is Rysalia, and men rule this world with impunity. Women have no legal standing. You would have no recourse whatsoever and would be treated as chattel. Should I grow weary of you, I could take you to the slave market and sell you." He crooked his head. "I would venture to say you'd net me a tidy sum if stripped and paraded before the aristocracy."

Her mouth as devoid of moisture as a baking desert, Aradia felt bile creeping up her throat.

"Or I could give you to my best friend--to anyone I care to, actually--as a gift."

"Try doing any of that, warrior," she seethed, "and I would slit your throat and--"

"The reason I was chosen as a Death Lord is because I have certain abilities other men don't." He locked gazes with her. "You know I can read minds, but do you know I can influence what people do?"

She smiled nastily. "If that is true, why did you not free yourself from the mine?"

"Did you see the iron bands welded to my wrists and ankles and neck, little Amazeen? If you did, you saw the only way those bastards had to control me. The confining of my body with iron shackles can negate my abilities. The water I was given to drink was heavy with iron deposits, and that only added to the restriction of my powers."

Aradia remembered well the iron circling his dirty flesh. She remembered, too, the blood seeping from the raw sores on his wrists and ankles. Though she had not noticed an iron collar around his neck, she had no reason to doubt the brutal restraint had encumbered him.

"Brutal restraint," he repeated, letting her know he had intercepted her thoughts. "A good way to put it. Brutality was a way of life for me--until you came along."

"And you would repay my kindness by imprisoning me," she said, refusing to allow her pity for the man to show on her face.

"I could make you come with me against your will and you would never realize what was happening. I could make you so hot with passion you would be hard put to keep your hands off me."

"Oh, for the love of Aluvial! You have a high opinion of your appeal, don't you?"

"I sent you here to this cave and told you not to be concerned when I arrived. You never once questioned my appearance, did you?"

Unease flitted through Aradia. She tucked her lower lips between her teeth. "A...a storm was coming...the caves were handy. Any fool would've had sense to come in out of bad weather. As for being unconcerned when you showed up, I knew you were behind me. I figured you'd catch up sooner or later."

Jaelan did not deign to refute her words. "Believe what you will."

"So why not order me to do what you want? Wouldn't that make things easier for you?"

"That would be cheating. I want you to come to me of your own free will, not because I have mentally ordered you."

"Yet you would blackmail me into having no choice in the matter."

Jaelan shrugged. "Every compromise has its drawbacks, wench. I needed leverage, and your sister's freedom is it."

"You may not like cheating, but you don't play fair, either!"

He raised his other knee and encircled his legs within the parameters of his arms, one hand gripping the wrist of the other. "I'm allowing you to make the choice. If you tell me you're not interested, you can go on your way. Should you attempt to enter Abbadon, though, I'll have no choice but to arrest you and bring you to the convent at Raven's Hill. At least there I'd know you'd be safe, for the Sisters of Peace are well protected by the Ben-Alkazar family." He arched a thick brow. "What's it to be, Aradia?"

Her name on his tongue sent shivers of pleasure down her spine. From the first moment she had seen him at the mine, she had felt drawn to him, linked by a cosmic bond she could not explain. When she had touched his arm at the inn, she had felt the urge to know the tactile strength in those powerful arms, to experience the touch of his strong hands upon her. Every sense she possessed strained to know this commanding warrior, yet she knew such feelings were dangerous.

"I would give you the protection of my name and my honor," he told her, easily reading her mental confusion. "I would offer my companionship, my worldly goods, and the fidelity you are due."

"You almost make it sound like we will be Joined." "We would." She blinked. "Legally?" "As legally as a Temple Magistrate can make our union." Her womb did a funny little jump, and she pressed a hand to her belly. "But why would you want to make it legal? You can have the milk but not have to purchase the cow, warrior."

Jaelan winced. "If I simply wanted milk, wench, I'd keep the cow I have."

Jealousy stabbed through Aradia's heart. She narrowed her eyes. "You already have a woman? What do you need

with another?"

He shook his head. "She's not my woman. She's a mean-spirited, evil-tempered, black-hearted witch who comes reluctantly to my bed to relieve me once a fortnight because she's paid to do so. Neither she nor I like the arrangement, but my king thought I needed thepleasure of a woman's body and ordered her Whoremaster to see to it. The king said I was getting unbearable and needed the calming of a gentler hand." He snorted. "As though Saahira had anything gentle about her. The woman is deadlier than an asp and hates me as much as I hate her."

"Then why not send her on her way?"