Dragon Tree by Marsha Canham Page A

breath stilled in his chest and the blood began to throb
sluggishly through his body. Inaya had bathed her, washing away the
stink of Marak’s poultices and mustard pastes. She smelled fresh
and clean. Her hair was soft as silk, tempting his fingers to run
through it.
    He gently
guided her back onto the bed. “You try to do too much. Marak will
not thank you—or me for that matter—if you fall and crush your head
against the stone wall, not after all he has done to keep you
alive.”
    Amie sat on
the edge of the bed, shaking so badly the linen of her sheath
trembled. Tamberlane snatched up the blanket and wrapped it around
her shoulders, then spied an ewer of water and tipped some into a
cup.
    “Drink
this.”
    She focussed
intently on the cup a moment before raising her hand to try to take
it.
    Tamberlane
crouched down and closed his bigger hand over hers, steadying the
vessel, helping to guide it to her lips. She kept her lashes
lowered, but that only made him notice how delicately those lashes
lay against the pale curve of her cheek.
    Tiny filaments
of her hair were caught around their hands and glowed like threads
of fiery gold in the firelight. Her tunic had become hitched up at
the knee, baring the slender length of her calf, the delicate turn
of her ankle, the small white feet and pretty pink toes. The
scabbed scratches where the mercenary’s sword had cut her were
still visible and that made him recall the sight of her sprawled on
the ground, her thighs kicked apart, the point of the blade poised
to stab.
    He became
conscious of her eyes rising to his face and could not avoid
meeting them. They were large and solemn and regarded him over the
rim of the cup as she took several small sips. When the cup was
emptied, a small bead of the clear liquid clung to her lower lip.
He watched her capture it with the tip of her tongue and the action
caused him to lick his own lip before he straightened and set the
cup on the table.
    "Back to bed
with you now," he commanded. "And no more foolishness or Marak will
pin my ears to the wall."
    "I do not wish
to be a burden," she said again. "You have already done so much, I
know not how I shall ever repay you."
    "Repay me by
getting well."
    She looked up
and her eyes were swimming with tears again. "I... I cannot seem to
lift my legs onto the bed. It hurts too much."
    Tamberlane's
face remained expressionless as he considered his options, but in
the end, seeing no other way around it, he leaned over and scooped
her gently into his arms then settled her back in place against the
pillows. He drew the blankets modestly high under her chin again,
tucking her arms beneath. Her eyes had not left his face and he
could feel the heat of a blush threatening to rise up his throat.
He stepped back before it bloomed fully and noticed a shadow
standing quietly in the doorway.
    “Ah. Here is
Marak with your posset. More effective than water, I have no
doubt.”
    Marak came
into the room, followed closely by Inaya and the boy Jibril.
    “Plaguing her
with questions, were you?” Marak asked, beckoning to Inaya to set
the board she was carrying on the table.
    “I have
inquired after nothing but her health,” Tamberlane said, happily
relinquishing his place beside the bed to the Arab woman, who now
wore a veil across her face, leaving only her huge kohl-rimmed eyes
visible. The boy moved with her, his fist clenched tightly to the
folds of her sari, but when he spied the carved wooden horse lying
beside the hearth, he let out a small squeal of joy and ran to
retrieve it.
    Inaya murmured
something under her breath, accompanied by a flurry of scolding
fingers, chiding the boy for having dropped the toy in the first
place.
    The board
Inaya had placed on the table contained bread, a small wedge of
yellow cheese, some honeyed dates and several slabs of cold meat.
Amie was distracted by the sight and smell long enough for Ciaran
to catch the few words Marak whispered in his ear.
    His expression
changed