What was worse was Vicktor would no doubt -- no doubt -- try to capture those he cared about most and torture them right in front of Valerian. It was just the sort of vengeance Vicktor was known for… and just the sort of thing he wished to avoid at all costs.

  He would need to send Melena and Daria away, to hide them with those he trusted, to protect them. However it would also mean living without Melena and the comforts she provided. And it meant trusting others to look out for her… others who could potentially be spies. But he had no choice. It had to be done and it had to be done as soon as possible. Before Vicktor was able to find out where the army was and set up scouts all around them.

  But first… first he would indulge in her. He would spoil himself on her before saying goodbye.

  * * *

  Valerian watched with famished eyes as Melena undressed, unwrapping herself like a luscious gift made just for him. She didn’t wait for the tent to warm thoroughly and she didn’t wait for the copper tub that was only just being set up. She didn’t shy away from the fact that there were scores of men and women moving in and out of the tent setting up these things and the bed they would be sleeping in a little later. She knew he would want her naked and at his feet in spite of all these things. She was merely being obedient and mindful of his wishes.

  However, his wishes changed in that moment. He suddenly didn’t want the eyes of others on her beautiful body. He might perhaps want to put her on display at another time, but for now he wanted her to himself.

  “Stop,” he commanded as she reached to untie her pants.

  She looked up in surprise and lifted one elegant, questioning brow.

  “Come to me,” he said, beckoning her forward. She obeyed immediately and went to settle on her knees at his feet. Instead he caught her elbows and guided them both into the chair at the table, settling her onto his lap. She wound her arms around his neck and shifted until she was satisfactorily nestled against his crotch.

  He reached for her hair, threading his fingers into the blond mass, gripping her tightly and bringing her head around until her lips were hovering just beyond his.

  Usually he would not kiss her. Kissing was a privilege she had to earn. But he was too tired to play games. Too tired and too hungry for her. He crushed his mouth down on hers. He remembered the last time he had had her… the last time the tent had been erected two very long weeks ago. It had been a violent coupling, but had ended in the deepest love he’d ever felt. He would never forget it. The memory of it had burned in him ever since.

  Tonight he did not want to cause her pain. Tonight he wanted to simply bask in her. In their mutual love and respect for each other. He kissed her deeply and she responded fully and immediately, just as hungry for him as he was for her. It fueled his desire. He kissed her hungrily, nibbling and biting at her lips, and he was thrilled when she echoed him. He sat back with satisfaction. He must have made a sound to that effect because she chuckled softly and asked, “Are you so content then?”

  “I am beyond content… and yet discontent. I am completely satisfied by you and yet not satisfied at all.”

  “How very contrary of you,” she said with a teasing light in her eyes that told him she understood perfectly what he was trying to say.

  “I will not be content until the day comes where I can spend all day in bed with you… buried within you.”

  “I take it that day cannot be today?”

  “That day cannot come until I am settled on the Jorku throne.”

  “Hmm. That does not say much for my ability to keep you contented.”

  “It has little to do with you and more to do with the upheaval in my life. Were it not for this war I would neglect everything just to be with you.”

  She smiled and went back to kissing the length of his neck and throat. He had not shaved in two weeks and his beard was thick and keeping him from feeling her fully. He would have to remedy that immediately. That reminded him that neither of them had bathed in two weeks. It was winter and too cold to use an obliging stream so they had suffered without. Neither of them promised to smell attractive.

  “Enough! Enough until we’ve had baths.”

  “I will bathe you first,” she said promptly.

  “No. You will bathe first and you will bathe in front of me. I will not help because I don’t think my self-control will extend that far, but I will watch you for my satisfaction. When you are through and lying warm and naked in bed waiting for me, then I will take my bath.”

  “Very well. Where are the servants? What is taking them so long?” She was practically whining. He didn’t blame her. His very skin itched when he thought of how filthy he was. He was just as impatient as she was.

  The servants appeared magically right at that moment with buckets of steaming water. They filled the tub quickly and were barely out of the tent before Melena, who was twitching in his arms in her impatience, leapt to her feet and finished stripping out of her clothes. He was able to appreciate every inch of her that was exposed, but only for a quick minute… then she was across the room and in the tub, sinking into the water with a contented sigh.

  He called a servant to shave him and leaned back as his coarse beard met its end. The slave nicked him once and he didn’t even mind. He was getting too much pleasure watching Melena out of the corner of his eye. She stood up and a slave poured a rinsing bucket over her head, rinsing her of soap and any remaining grime. She was shivering a little as she stepped out, the tent still not yet warm enough for comfort. The slave dried her lustrous skin and her long golden hair.

  Valerian was next to bathe. He made quick, efficient work of the task, impatient as he was to join Melena who had slid naked into their bed. He paused a moment at the thought. Their bed. Not his bed. Their bed. Ever since that last heated emotional and sexual encounter, they had been a joined entity. What was hers was his and what was his was hers.

  He arrived at the bed shortly after. He was hungry and he imagined she was too, but it would be some time before the hunters returned with fresh food, which they would then take time to prepare. But he had an idea as to how to spend time while they waited.

  He grabbed her roughly, dragged her beneath him, and kissed her clean, sweet-smelling skin. He made love to her in an unusual fashion, with tenderness and sweetness. Outside their norm. Yet it felt good. It felt good to relax and not have to be in control of everything at every moment. It was something he would only ever achieve with her, he knew.

  Afterward they dozed and drowsed, waking only when the smell of fresh cooked meat flowed over them. The servants set the table and she took her seat at his feet and waited for him to feed her.

  He did so, enjoying the nibbling of her mouth on his fingertips. When they were through they made love again, this time more roughly, with him pulling her hair and smacking her bottom with a firm hand. He loved to do that. The resulting shimmer of impact through her flesh made him hard and excited. Then he turned her onto her knees, settled his knees against the inside of her splayed ones and rammed into her hard, abusing her tender body as only he could, and listened to her moan. He thrust hard and deep, rhythmically lifting her off her knees with each hard forward thrust until she came for him, and he for her. Then they fell asleep until the next morning.

  Valerian had not slept so well in as long as he could remember. The following night was the same. He wondered how he could rest so easy when things were in such turmoil. Usually he stayed awake for hours on end thinking and plotting his next move. However there was a certain contentment to be found in Melena’s arms that allowed him to relax in a way he couldn’t ever remember experiencing before.

  Then he got the news that an army had been seen just a few leagues away.

  Angry that his spies had so fallen down on the job, Valerian roared in fury, sweeping an arm across the top of his writing table and sending all his work flying. Melena waited for him to settle, watched him carefully as he breathed like a furious bull. Then he gathered control of himself, running hands back through his hair and looking over at Melena who sat in a chair, a rare position for her because she was usually at his feet.

  “Isn’t it better that this begins?” she asked quietly, hesitantly. “Isn’t it better we defeat his initial forces and destroy his morale?”

  Valerian huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “I’m sure it is, although I was hoping to be much closer to the fortress before this happened. Perhaps we should not have struck camp.”

  “The army needed rest. Now knowing there are forces on their way to meet us, you should be glad you have offered them time to recover.”

  He looked at her with newfound respect. He had never known a woman who could see things as clearly as she did. He found himself discussing strategy with her before even speaking to his lieutenants.

  “Now that we know where they are, you must decide whether to go to them or to let them come to us,” she said as she got to her feet and began to gather up the letters and maps he had swept off the table.

  It had been a rare show of emotion. He was usually far more controlled. He felt foolish for it as he watched her. “We will stay where we are. This land is completely defensible. We have rich sources of game and our grain supplies are still good. There are farms able to supply more within reach. We will buy what we need from them before our enemies get the chance to do raid their crops. Perhaps we can starve the opposing army if this conflict takes a while, but it is not likely to. Vicktor is direct and impatient. He will want to defeat me in a resounding victory. This will solidify his mastery at war and make him appear undefeatable in the eyes of others, which will put down any further rebellions in his lifetime.

  “Starvation will be more of a threat to them when we reach the fortress and starve them out from behind their tall, thick walls. It is the only way I see possible for defeating my brother on his home territory. The fortress is near impregnable. I should know… I designed it.”

  “Surely you know of its weaknesses?” she asked.

  “I know of how to escape the fortress undetected. I plan to use that as an entry point. But not for the entire army. For a select few who will sneak in and destroy the fortress’s grain supplies. Then, perhaps, if they are lucky… they can move on to silently capture my brother. I would go with them to lead them but… “

  “It is a suicide mission. Whoever goes in is not likely to come out alive. No, you cannot go yourself. It would be foolish… and you are not a foolish man.”

  “Appealing to my logic and ego in order to keep me safe?” he asked her.

  She flushed and looked down at the letters she was absently organizing into a pile. “Do not be angry with me. I love you and believe in you and this cause. It will mean nothing if you are captured.”

  “You are correct. And I am not angry.” He walked up to her and cupped her cheek in his palm. She was so soft and feminine to him, but far from delicate and fragile. Her strength pleased and astounded him. Before Melena, he had thought all women to be frail things in need of protecting. While he felt it was his duty to protect her and he would do so with his dying breath, he also had confidence that she would be able to protect herself.

  “So you will meet this army here. Have you a field chosen? There will be much death. The actual battle must take place away from the camp. Camp must be protected from invasion. This is where all our supplies lay.”

  “Yes I know,” he said with a chuckle. “It amazes me that you know this. When did you become such a tactician?”

  “I am merely practical.”

  He bent forward and kissed her lips gently, taking sustenance from them. Then he sat down and pulled her into his lap. Within days the fight with his brother would reach a head.

  “We perhaps have an opportunity to end this in a single battle,” Valerian said thoughtfully. “All it requires is knowing my brother… Vicktor will very likely be at the head of his army. If the tide of the battle turns to the point that he sees he is losing, he will retreat back to the fortress.”

  “If you seed his escape routes with scouts and spies, you could capture him before he makes it that far,” she said brightly.

  “Exactly,” he said, proud of her for her quick mind. “But those spies must be in place long before Vicktor’s army reaches the field or they will be seen. Vicktor will no doubt clear his escape route ahead of time to make sure it is free of any threats.”

  “You are going to use my brother!” she said with excitement.

  “Yes,” he said, marveling at her bright mind yet again. “Grulon excels at the art of hidden warfare. It was how he managed to defeat my men in small groups and remain out of my reach for so long. He can hide his men along the paths Vicktor is most likely to escape by.”

  “An excellent plan. Shall I summon your lieutenants? My brother?”

  “Both. We have much planning to do.”

  She gave him a shy smile. “I suppose this means I can expect you will not join me in our bed any time soon?”

  He tipped his head and looked her over. “Are you making a request?” he asked.

  “No, Sir,” she said softly, her gaze darting away. “My desires do not matter here. What matters is victory… and I will do anything in order for you to achieve that. Even if it means being without your company and love for a while.” Then she looked back and fixed a hard gaze on him. “But only for a while.”

  He laughed at her. “Trust me, Pet. I cannot do without you for long,” he reassured her. His words made her smile and he felt as though he’d just won the war. He would do just about anything for that smile.

  “I will fetch my brother and the others,” she said, hopping up to do so.

  He watched her go to the tent entrance and step outside. It was cold and she was dressed in thin veils, but she didn’t shy away from her task… even if it meant exposing her nearly nude state to a camp full of soldiers.

  She knew he liked her to be on display. He was proud of her. Although lately he had been less inclined to do so. He didn’t want to share her even visually with others. Still, he resisted the urge to call her back. Possessiveness would lead to jealousy, an emotion a man of power could not afford to indulge in. He only need look to his brother’s example to see that. Vicktor’s jealousy over Valerian had led to a great many difficulties. Valerian was certain that, had Vicktor not needed him so much, he would have met an unfortunate end years ago.

  Perhaps. Valerian had always been on guard against Vicktor’s volatile emotions. It was, perhaps, the threat of pushing Valerian too far that had kept Vicktor in check over the years. Who knew? While it was easy to divine some of Vicktor’s motivations, it was equally difficult to understand them.

  Valerian spent the rest of the afternoon in conference with his lieutenants. Melena sat quietly listening from her position in a chair set to the rear of the tent. He did not call her to him, although he wanted to. He had avoided having her sit obediently at his feet while her brother was around. It would too easily enrage the man to see his sister acting in so subservient a manner. Her brother would not understand.

  Valerian doubted anyone could. He was not in the habit of explaining himself either. He knew a time would come when her brother would have to face their relationship as it was, but he was hoping it wouldn’t be until after he had gotten all the cooperation he needed out of him.

  They chose a location where they would have a topographical advantage. They would snaring the best ground and the best supplies and having rested before meeting on the field of battle. Despite Valerian’s earlier temper, they were really in a very good position.

  He did not sleep that night. Nor the next. The days of resting his head in bliss were ended… at least until this was all over. Melena tried to encourage him to sleep, citing that he needed his rest so he could face his brother fresh and clear-minded. He managed a short nap with his head in her lap and her fingers stroking through his hair. It was all he allowed himself.

  On the third day, the armies met.

  Intelligence told Valerian that Vicktor’s army was sorely outnumbered. He wondered that Vicktor even dared to confront him with such poor forces, but there was no end to Vicktor’s hubris so it shouldn’t have surprised him.

  On the field each brother stood at the head of his army, each on horseback and each flanked with lieutenants. But all the odds were in Valerian’s favor. He had the seasoned warriors in his army. He had numbers. He had the high ground.

  Vicktor was doomed.

  Chapter Four

  Melena was forced to wait in camp as the battle between the brothers raged. She demanded frequent reports from a slave running back and forth from the field. She grew angry and frustrated when the slave did not appear as quick as she liked. All she could do was pace and wring her hands.

  She knew Valerian. He would not be content to sit back and let his men fight alone. He would risk his neck right alongside of them. For that she was angry with Valerian. She understood… but that didn’t make her frustration less.

  The slave burst back into the tent and Melena stormed up to him. “Well?” she demanded before the man could even catch his breath. He had clearly run the entire way. “Tell me!”

  “The tide has turned,” the slave gulped. “Our forces overwhelm the emperor’s. Our lord --” He stopped, panting for breath, and Melena grabbed him and shook him in her frustration.

  “What? What of Valerian?!”

  “He has taken a wound. Nothing too serious as I understand it, but it has forced him to fall back behind his men.”

  “Oh no!” A wound? What kind of wound? Where? Wounds were dangerous. What didn’t seem drastic on the field of battle could become deadly over time. Infection could set in and the bearer of the wound could die.

  At least he had had the sense to fall back. She took comfort in knowing that he was no longer in the thick of battle. She hastened to send the slave back to the field, after grudgingly allowing him a cup of mulled wine. She did not care if he was tired or thirsty. If Valerian could fight for the sake of others, then this slave could run for Melena’s sake.