Forget Me Not, (9 page)

“
You are leaving,” she
said in a voice she struggled to keep level.

“
Am I?” he asked, closing
his eyes and inhaling her scent.

“
You are a general. Your
place is at the head of your men.”

“
I am an ambassador and a
calumnious traitor. I will be executed the moment I step on
Barabbas soil.”

She spun around, gazing up
at him with her startling amethyst eyes, gripping his shoulders in
her slender fingers. “Then you must run far away, somewhere no
Elsyrian or Barbarian will find you.”

He frowned slightly as he
glanced down at her, the soft mouth he’d never touched. As far as
he knew, Elves did not kiss. Too many sharp teeth would make it an
act of war, not love. He was willing to engage in either with his
Lady Perr.

“
I don’t believe you’re
supposed to smuggle me into the wilderness,” he said leaning
slightly towards her. “You’re supposed to convince me to return and
fight the Bashai with my army.”

She shook her head,
raising her hand to brush her throat, covered in pale purple silk.
“That is the High Precept’s will, not my own.”

“
What will you do, Hatia,”
he said, hands sliding together on the balcony until his arms
brushed her sides, “when the Barbarians descend in the spring,
burning, killing, destroying everything you love?”

“
Not everything,” she
replied lifting her chin in spite of the uncertainty in her own
eyes. “The Elves will flee, abandoning Elsyria to its inevitable
ruin.”

He tilted his head to the
side, his golden brown eyes looking mysterious and Elsyrian almost.
“Many will stay and die with the land.” He shook his head. “I only
waited to see you again before I returned to my people. Your eyes
are as stunning as I remembered. What are jewels compared to your
eyes, sparkling with life and…”

“
Tears,” she said, closing
her eyes tightly. “You never used to speak so, of my eyes or any
other part of me.”

“
Are we still bound by the
strictures and regulations from that time? If so, I should never be
here, gazing upon your bare face without appropriate paces between
us.” He pulled her against him, his arms iron bands around her.
“Tell me. What did Tharmul say to you that took you into the arms
of the Bashai?”

Hatia struggled to breathe
evenly, her body brought up hard against his. She swallowed before
she could speak. “He said that you had asked for permission to
court me, that you were being executed.”

Balthaar relaxed his grip
slightly on her, studying her face with a frown between his dark
eyebrows. “So you were fleeing to safety.”

She shook her head and
tentatively reached up, sliding her hand along the side of his
face. “I wanted to be at your side, to die with you. It sounds so
foolish. What would a Barbarian want with an Elsyrian?” she asked,
frowning at him as she stroked his cheek, the soft skin around his
eyes to the roughness of his jaw.

He grasped her hand,
stilling it. “I’m not actually Barabbas. I am possibly the most
barbaric person you will meet, however,” he said with a slight
smile before he turned his face and kissed her fingers.

She inhaled deeply as his
soft lips caressed her flesh. “What are you?” she asked, her words
trembling.

He raised his head to gaze
at her as if considering how much to tell her. “There is some
conjecture, however it is likely that I’m half dark elf witch and
power mad Elsyrian.”

“
The Bashai and the dark
elves… Of course,” she murmured, cocking her head. “I saw some
engravings when I was a child, learned a few letters from Halthom.
He was always fascinated with them, but some said they were
mythical if not long extinct. So, the Emperor found them and
married one of them…” She frowned as she considered. Elves were not
known for their excessive breeding.

“
And here I
am.”

“
Just like that,” she said
with a slight smile before she sighed, leaning against him with all
of her weight. “I suffered through a hundred years of insanity
caused from thinking that you had been executed out of love for me.
What happened to you? Why did you join the army? Did you know that
the Bashai…”

“
No,” Balthaar cut her
off, frowning at her fiercely. “I never knew you had been taken by
Bashai. I received a letter from your hand that you had received an
offer from an Elsyrian Lord and were going to become his bride. It
smelled of you, felt of you. I truly believed you were the author
of that letter that broke me and sent me running away from
everything that reminded me of you like a weak, cowardly
fool.”

Lady Perr pulled away from
him. “I wrote a letter.” She shivered. “I was told that you would
be safe if I did.” She turned her face away from him, but he drew
her back with his hand, warm against her cheek.

“
Why would you try to
protect me? I was only a Barbarian, someone who debated logistics
and morality with you. Why would you care?” he whispered, leaning
close so that his nose brushed her cheek.

She shivered and closed
her eyes. “I suppose I loved you.” She opened her eyes and pushed
him back, surprising strength in her arms. “Why did you slaughter
my kind? Must you take out your hatred of me on them?”

He shook his head, smiling
slightly before he caught her once more in his arms. “I did not
fight Elsyrians until the fury when they attacked us. Perhaps you
can forgive me some day for all the evils I have done. I tried to
hate you, but how could I? Surely I had only deceived myself,
thinking that you had some feeling for me. You never spoke of it,
and I knew deep down that you were better with another man, an
Elsyrian who could give you a world of peace and beauty instead of
what I had to offer.”

“
What is that,” she asked,
studying him intently.

He tightened his arms
around her unconsciously. “My sword, my skill, my mind, and my
heart. I offer all I am or will ever be, to you.”

“
You can’t still care for
me. I’m a shadow of what I was.”

He shook his head, gazing
into her eyes. “We have both changed, but to my eyes, you are more
incomprehensibly exquisite every time I see you. Your mind was
broken, but even in madness, I would have happily stayed by your
side until eternity faded from the sky.”

“
You would?” she asked,
doubtfully.

He smiled and leaned his
forehead against hers. “I hope you still talk to statues and dance
in the moonlight. It would be hard seeing you and you not knowing
me, but I have ached for a century to hold you as I never did when
I had the chance.”

She closed her eyes and
relaxed against him, letting him hold her for a moment without
thinking of the past or the future, enrapt in a single moment that
shone like an eternally falling star.

“
I accept,” she whispered.
“That is, if you’re still offering,” she added glancing up at him
through her pale lashes.

He frowned suddenly.
“There is no place for an Elsyrian woman and a Barbarian warrior,”
he said roughly. Suddenly she seemed light and airy as a handful of
clouds and as difficult to hold onto.

“
Then we will make one,”
she said before she brushed his warm lips with her cool
ones.

Balthaar’s heart sang as
he felt the soft skin against his own, his mouth vulnerable to the
sharpness he wanted to consume him and devour him until nothing was
left of the Barbarian but a skin she could wear over her
shoulders.

He fell to his knees
before her, gazing down at her delicate hands in his. “I must
protect you. Whatever else comes, I cannot live knowing that I
brought harm upon you again.”

“
I insist that you live,”
she said with a laugh in her voice. “You will live nearly as long
as I,” she said sounding nearly giddy. “What shall we do? Where
shall we go? It doesn’t matter,” she said, leaning her cheek
against his. “All will be well. I know it.”

“
This feeling,” he
murmured, looking up at her with worry in his eyes. “I felt this
way before, when everything fell apart. The feeling is an illusion.
All will not be well.”

She cocked her head at
him. “You are affected by the attachment, but you don’t understand
it. We are well-matched. Our natures compliment one another. There
will be challenges, but we will face them together, or we may if an
evil Emperor doesn’t make it his personal quest to destroy us. Even
so, he could not keep us apart forever, and when we were reunited,
my mind became whole, as did your heart.” She smiled at him,
strangely confident in spite of her past. “I will stay at your
side, and…”

“
No,” he said, frowning
fiercely at her as he rose to his feet to look down at her
ominously.

“
I do not want to leave
you,” she said simply.

“
I must save the Empire.
It’s my country, my people. I cannot abandon them to
Tharmul.”

She nodded slowly. “If you
are Emperor, you could end slavery.”

He gave her a half smile.
“Yes. I did away with slavery in the army many years ago. I should
have known that you would still be concerned with the unwashed
masses.”

She shook her head. “I
went years without washing, although there weren’t masses of me. I
will go with you to Barabbas.” She tightened her hand on his as she
looked at him with shining eyes that made his heart
ache.

“
My
heart will remain here with you but my sword and arm must fight the
Bashai until there is peace, in
Barabbas
and Elsyria. As Emperor,
slavery will end, and I will send for you. Will you come?” he
asked, gazing up at her with golden eyes that reminded her of the
Elsyrian traitor, the emperor, his father.

She shook her head. “I
can’t wait. You must allow me to be your interpreter, or your
mistress alongside you. I am afraid.”

He frowned and brushed her
soft hair away from her face. “What do you fear?”

She swallowed. “The
madness,” she said simply, dropping her eyes. “You came and the
madness faded away. If you leave, will it come back? I can’t bear
it. I can’t bear thinking that you are dead. I have waited long
enough. I may be immortal, but a hundred years is too long to be
without my heart.”

Balthaar sighed. He wished
more than anything to keep her safe, but how could he protect her
away from him when she needed him, his own heart and soul to
protect him from the Emperor’s curse?

“
You cannot be my
mistress. My wife would be terribly jealous,” he said with a smile
but his eyes were clouded with uncertainty.

“
Your wife?” she demanded,
pulling away before he had her in his arms.

“
You must be my wife. No
one else is crazy enough to have me,” he murmured.

She shook her head, but
couldn’t help beaming at him. “You shouldn’t make light of insanity
and curses.”

“
But you must make light
of darkness,” he said with a strange intensity, holding her firmly
in his calloused hands before he leaned down and brushed her lips
with his for a brief moment. “I give myself to you, Hatia, Wind
Spinner, with the sun and the sea as my witness.”

“
Is this your idea of a
wedding?” she asked, cocking her head with her customary
curiosity.

“
You already wore the
white dress and veil,” he said his throat growing tight. “If you’d
rather not…”

She put a hand to his
lips. “I give myself to you, Harrin Balthaar, Barbarian General
soon to be Emperor who will free the slaves, abdicate your throne,
and retire to travel the world with your interpreter.”

He smiled as she wrapped
her arms around his neck, soaking in the reality of him, the moment
that would not last forever, but would be followed by as much joy
and bliss as they had already suffered sorrow and pain.

The End

First of all, thanks goes
out to you, my readers. Thank you for reading, sharing and
reviewing my books. I'd be writing in my closet without
you.

I would like to thank all
those who helped me create Forget Me Not. Thanks to Heidi who read
and gave me the feedback I needed to get this novelette tightened
up. My beta reader, Lori, who helped me fix the many irritating
ways you can spell made-up words. You rock.

Thanks always to my
husband who messed with the cover forever. This cover… at least
it’s over. Thanks honey! Also, for letting me have my way with the
gorgeous font.

Thanks to my kids who are
quiet during naps so that I can write instead of holding a cranky
toddler. You’re the best.

Thanks and glory be to my
God who makes all things possible.

Juliann was born and
raised in South Central Utah-the desert-and currently lives in the
beautiful city of St. Louis. She studied, among more than a few
other things, Creative Writing and Fine Art at the University of
Utah. She also enjoys gardening, sewing, painting, fabric
sculpture, and whatever else shiny or crafty you can think
of.