Lords Of The Dark Fall - Fabian Read Online Free Page B

here, at the door of this humble abode, with the unlikeliest of saviours, the formal words of his old life seemed so pompous and inappropriate. He, who had commanded vast armies of men, commanded only laughter now.
    Tig gave him a half-bow and with a flourish, inserted the key into the first lock. She was grinning widely by the time she’d opened them all and bade him enter in a gruff voice that sounded distinctly like a mimic of his own.
    To salvage his pride, he waited several heartbeats before moving, forcing her to look at him in all his glorious nakedness. He noticed the spring of heat to her cheeks every time her gaze fell to his genitals. Whether it was admiration or just fascination, he couldn’t tell. A married woman was no innocent, but she blushed like a virgin now as his body responded to her scrutiny.
    “You need clothes,” she said wryly, and disappeared into the dark interior.
    He followed, dipping his head to avoid the low beam. The door opened directly into a room that was part kitchen, part reception chamber. Tig looked even more other-worldly in the glow of the single lamp she’d lit and placed on the wooden table. He took in the iron stove, the stone sink with pump for water. A tall clock stood against the far wall and well-worn armchairs huddled around a fireplace. The room smelled of ash and the lingering scent of dried herbs, hanging in bunches from hooks on the wall.
    The house appeared bigger on the inside than it did from without. The kind of dwelling and furnishings afforded by an artisan or a farmer. Tig pointed to one of the armchairs.
    “Sit. I’m going upstairs to find you some clothes. Then I’ll make us a meal. Bartered for a goat-leg last week. It should still be good to go. Do you like goat?”
    “I could eat Cafino raw right now.”
    Tig’s laughter was slightly hysterical but quite spontaneous. He felt rather pleased to have elicited such a response and wracked his brains for another witty remark. Nothing came, so he contented himself with watching her wipe away the tears and then start laughing again as she remembered what he’d said.
    “Don’t mind the laughter,” she said at length. “It’s been a very strange day.”
    “I find your laughter quite pleasant,” he replied, and then wanted to kick himself for sounding so condescending. He couldn’t remember the last time someone laughed because he was funny, rather than because he was the high lord and people always gave him the response they thought he wanted.
    Tig tilted her head and regarded him thoughtfully. “When you say jump, people jump – right? I guess that makes it hard to know what’s real, and what isn’t?”
    His gaze dropped to his dirty feet. Being read like a book was an uncomfortable feeling and this woman saw far too much. “Clothes,” he said. “And food.” He wanted to add,
and you,
but he didn’t think he would live up to his nickname on this night.
    “Will you allow me to splint your arm?”
    “There is nothing wrong with my arm.”
    Tig shrugged, as if she didn’t care a jot. But her eyes lied. He saw the concern and the way she pursed her lips.
    “Suit yourself. But if you don’t let me set that bone, it will mend crooked. And then what use will it be?”
    “Stop questioning me!” He growled out the words, louder than he’d intended. Tig took a step back, hands raised in resignation.
    “I know. Not my concern.” She turned for the stairs, hesitated then turned back to him. “I’ve known men like you. Men who stand on their principles, even if it means death to themselves and those around them. My father was the same, and so were my brothers. It got them nothing but pain and a shortened life. The warlord before Carson sent a war band and my father refused to compromise. All they asked was public tribute and fifty percent of the farm revenue. If he’d given them that, they would all be alive today.”
    Fabian listened, unsurprised by her words. He had honoured men who refused