Forest of Ruin (Age of Legends 3)

ould--I should check over that rise ahead." He strode onward before either could speak.

Moria told Tyrus what had happened. With each word, the horror on his face grew. When she finished, he jogged ahead to Gavril.

"I am deeply, deeply sorry," Moria heard him say.

"Thank you," Gavril replied. "And I know your father did not do this, though you're refraining from saying so."

"I do not wish to belittle your loss by defending him, but I'm glad you do not suspect him of it. My father is capable of many things, some of them cruel and even callous, but--"

"If he took my mother, he would do much as Lord Okami did with you. House arrest. Even if he felt he had to make a stronger statement, he would never have killed her and certainly not in such a fashion. Someone did this to frame him, in the expectation that others would not realize he isn't capable of such monstrosity."

"Thank you for understanding that."

"I understand much," Gavril said, his gaze dropping to his still-bloodied blade. "I always did. I simply did not wish to."

With that, silence descended, and as it grew, the strain between Gavril and Tyrus returned, like a metal bar that kept them together yet apart. They walked within a few paces of each other but said nothing. What had happened outside Lord Okami's compound was not easily overcome. Moria knew that, for Tyrus, learning Gavril had held her captive had been a greater betrayal than anything that had come before it.

Yet Tyrus didn't seem entirely comfortable with her either. He'd seemed to be, when they'd first met, with his smiles and kisses. But now he seemed anxious, walking close enough to brush her hand with his, but never taking it. He kept looking over at her, as if trying to work something out. When they finally stopped for the night, Tyrus asked Gavril if he'd make camp while Tyrus and Moria found water.

They walked until they reached a stream and filled their waterskins. As Moria rose, she nearly bashed into Tyrus, standing right beside her with an oddly guarded expression on his face.

"Something's wrong," she said.

He started to shake his head. Then he stopped and cleared his throat. "I need to know . . . That is, I ought to ask . . ." He looked back toward camp and went quiet.

"Tyrus . . . ?"

"Has it changed?" he blurted.

"Has what changed?"

She followed his gaze to see Gavril setting up the bounty hunters' tent. "Are you asking . . . ?"

"The first time you kissed me, I said I could not be with you, no matter how much I wanted to. Not until I was sure of how you felt about him."

"And I told you--"

"You told me there was nothing between you. Not that way. But I worried that if he somehow had an excuse for his betrayal, things would change." He looked at her. "I presume he's given an explanation."

"He has, insomuch as I wished to hear it. I am satisfied that the massacre of my village was as great a shock to him as it was to me. As for the rest, I will hear more when I'm ready, but I accept his explanation. I will not say that I have forgiven him. But I no longer plan to kill him as soon as I get the chance."

She said the last with a smile, but Tyrus stood there, holding himself tight, that wary look in his eyes only growing, as if braced for the worst.

"And so . . ." he said.

"If anything had changed, do you truly think I'd have greeted you with kisses?"

"It was spontaneous. Perhaps--"

She kissed him. Deep and long and passionate enough to leave him staggering back when she pulled away.

"That was also spontaneous," she said. "But if you think I would kiss you that way if my relationship with Gavril had changed--"

He cut her off with a kiss, even deeper than her own, his hands in her hair, his body against hers, heat licking through her until he left her gasping.

"That was my apology," he said.

"Then I certainly hope you make more mistakes that require them."