Tristan scowled. “Why do you care?” he asked.
Leaning closer, she placed one hand on his thigh. He had to admit that it felt warm, inviting.
“Because should you accept the offer of my bed, I want everything working as it should-including your fingertips,” she said brazenly.
Reaching into the hot stew, she grasped a lamb piece between her index finger and thumb then offered it to him. Smiling again, Tristan accepted it.
The food was wonderful, and rather unlike anything Tristan had tasted before. Yasmin served him skillfully. As they feasted and drank, Tristan decided to offer Rafe a proposition.
Given the chieftain’s surprisingly friendly nature, the prince was becoming more sure that he and his warriors would eventually be released. But he desperately needed to return to Tammerland sooner, rather than later. Moreover, the highlanders impressed him-even though they were scandalous thieves. Such men could be useful, provided they could be controlled. And controlling them meant giving them something. As Yasmin fed him another piece of lamb, he looked over at Rafe.
“What would it take for you to let me and my warriors go this very night?” he asked. “As you said, I am royalty-I need no one’s permission to make a deal. If we can come to terms and you release us now, I swear to you that you will be fairly rewarded.”
Rafe took another swig of the potenttachinga and laughed. “What type of fool do you take me for?” he asked. “Do you really believe that I would release my greatest prize on a mere promise? The clan elders would brand me a fool, or worse!”
Tristan thought for a moment. “How did someone so young become chieftain?” he asked. “I would have expected a clan leader to be much older.”
A sad look overcame Rafe’s face. After refilling his glass he took another long swig oftachinga. Removing his fur hat, he tossed it to the grass, then tousled his hair.
“The same way that it is said you did,” he answered sadly. “I inherited the post from my slain father. That is our custom, provided the firstborn son has reached a certain age.”
Yasmin held another stew piece before Tristan’s face. Smiling, he thanked her then said that he had eaten his fill but that the food was wonderful. Then he turned back to Rafe.
“I’m sorry about your father,” he said. “It seems we have more in common than I thought. Even so, I must get home quickly. Eutracia’s fate and the fate of the craft of magic depend on it.”
Reaching out, Yasmin placed the silver bowl between Rafe and Tristan. The bowl was filled with water and floating rose petals. Following Rafe’s lead, Tristan washed his hands and face, then dried them with a cloth supplied by Yasmin.
Rafe scowled. “You need to understand something,” he said. “I don’t give a tinker’s damn about Eutracia, or about the craft. Our way of life has been going on for centuries. My people have seen dozens of monarchs come and go, each one haunted by his supposed worry over the craft. And for what, we ask? As far as we are concerned, the more things change, the more they stay the same. I like you, dango. But I seriously doubt that you and your wizards are any different from the fools who have come before you. Unlike some other clans, we are not murderers or rapists. Here, you and your warriors needn’t fear for your lives. Even so, you will stay with us until I say otherwise.”
Still determined to get home, Tristan thought for a moment. “Of all the things in the world, what is it that you and your clansmen want most?” he asked, still hoping to appeal to Rafe’s greed.
Rafe looked thoughtfully across the clearing. “Despite our way of life, my answer might surprise you,” he said softly.
“What is it?” Tristan asked.
“Some of us-especially those who have children-wish to finally put down roots,” he answered. “They are tired of wandering, being looked down on, and living from hand to mouth. They want a better, more secure life. Not all feel that way, but many do. What I’m trying to say is that we want a homeland of our own.”
Tristan gave Rafe a look of surprise. “Do you feel this way?” he asked.
“I have purposely delayed taking a wife and having children, so that I might better lead my people,” Rafe answered. “Putting one’s personal needs aside is but one of leadership’s many burdens. Just now we are in the midst of a fragile truce with a rival clan-one that I am not sure will survive. Until I know my people are safe, my life must remain as it is.”
“Suppose I helped you with your troubles?” Tristan asked.
Rafe’s eyes narrowed. “How?” he asked.
“Order your entire clan to come with me to Tammerland,” Tristan answered. “I can guarantee your safety. You needn’t live behind the city walls, if you choose not to. In return for taking me and my warriors home, and granting me one other favor, I will give you your homeland. I will deed your clan any number of acres of land they want, and anywhere they want-all within reason, of course. I will grant the land in perpetuity, along with full hunting, fishing, grazing, mineral, and timber rights. You could even form your own province, should you wish to do so. Choose the right piece of Eutracia, and you could become rich beyond your wildest dreams. Best of all, it would happen legally, including the crown’s ongoing protection against rival clans. You could still practice your customs, provided you abandoned all illicit activities. Refuse, and you will remain thieves and nomads, your heirs and theirs perhaps wandering Eutracia forever.”
Tristan could see that he had impressed the highlander. “You would do that for us?” Rafe asked incredulously.
Tristan leaned closer. “Eagerly,” he answered. “The stakes for our country are that high.”
Rafe slugged back the last of histachinga. Staring into the bonfire, he thoughtfully rolled the empty glass between his palms. “And this other favor you mentioned,” he said, his wary skepticism returning. “What is that?”
“For a brief time I wish to command your marvelous horsemen in the struggle that is brewing,” Tristan answered. “When the fight is over I will release them from my service. I will need every able-bodied rider you can muster. For too long, Eutracia has been without a cavalry regiment. I fear that she will soon need one. Highlanders who might wish to stay and form a permanent regiment would be welcome.” Tristan looked hopefully into Rafe’s eyes. “What say you?” he asked.
Rafe looked over at Yasmin. It was clear that she was as stunned as her chieftain.
“Even as clan leader I do not have the authority to dismiss your offer out of hand,” Rafe answered. “Its ramifications are too huge. I will take it up with the council of elders in the morning. By highlander law, whatever the council says is always done. Soon after daybreak you will have our answer, Tristan,” he said, using the prince’s given name for the first time.
Tristan nodded. “Fair enough,” he said.
Just then they watched the massive Balthazar and several other highlanders push their way past the circled wagons and into the clearing. Walking up, Balthazar reached down to grab thetachinga amphora. Hoisting it up alongside his forearm, he took a long sideways drink. After wiping his mouth, he smiled.
“The winged ones will be here in a few hours,” he said. “They can be a handful, even when bound! What is to be done with them?”
“See to it that they are fed, and treated with respect,” Rafe ordered. “I have promised their master that it would be this way.”
“As you wish,” Balthazar answered. Turning to the highlanders standing behind him, he barked out some sharp orders in their secret language. They quickly went about their duties.
“Thank you,” Tristan said.
Rafe shrugged his shoulders. “A promise is a promise, even among thieves. Now then, it is time for us men to enjoy ourselves!” He looked over at Yasmin. “Would you and your sisters do us the honor of a dance?” he asked.
Coming smoothly to her feet, Yasmin gave Tristan a sly look. “By all means,” she answered. She disappeared quickly.
As Balthazar sat down with them, Rafe leaned closer to Tristan. “She has fed you, agreed to dance for you, and offered to share her bed. I can never remember adango being so honored. This is truly a night to remember!”
Rafe again slapped Tristan hard on the back, this time forcing him to cough. For the first time since meeting
