22. Skin Deep

22. Skin Deep

"We have to go!" Ramorran faced Hakan at his most stubborn and tried not to tear his own hair out in frustration.

"We're going nowhere until we secure your property." Hakan stood in the middle of the dhow, feet firmly planted, arms folded over his broad chest. He looked as immovable as a boulder, and Ramorran knew how pointless it was to throw yourself against them.

But even boulders could be moved with the right leverage. "It's already secure. My sister will keep it for me."

"Your sister? Was she one of the people who tied you to that rock and left you to die?"

Ramorran tried not to wince. Hakan was inconveniently accurate with his guesses. He forced a calm tone. "No, not that sister. My other sister. The one who likes me."

Hakan nodded, but Ramorran knew the gesture didn't signal agreement. "The one who likes you because you rescued her from Sixblades?" He was about to agree, but Hakan didn't give him the chance. "The one who was tortured by him and is now so delicate a breeze might blow her away? She's going to protect it for you?"

"That's right." He sighed. "Look, I just want to get away from here; leave all this behind me."

Hakan nodded that cursed, won't-change-my-mind nod. "And we'll do that just as soon as we retrieve the property that's vitally important to you."

Ramorran took a breath. He knew self-interest was the last thing to change Hakan's mind, but it was also the last thing he had to try. "It's too dangerous. My people will kill you – kill us all – if we venture into the tribe's waters."

Hakan stroked his beard, lips lifting in a mocking smile. "How fortunate that we've got plenty of experience going where we're not wanted."

"I want you safe." Ramorran folded his arms in a stubborn mirror to the man he simultaneously adored and wanted to strangle. He glanced to where Ozzo and Loula were studiously not watching them. "I want you all safe."

Hakan stepped into his space, setting his hands on his hips. Ramorran nearly melted at the touch. He wanted to wrap his arms around his love, wanted to sag against him. He wanted to climb inside Hakan so they could become one. He closed his eyes.

Hakan's breath brushed his cheek. "And I want you whole." His fingers dug into his flesh, not hurting, but a solid reminder of the other man's presence. Of his strength. His voice lowered so only Ramorran could hear. "After all the trouble we went through to get your skin, do you truly expect me to believe you're content to leave it behind now?"

Ramorran opened his eyes. He had to blink to see Hakan clearly. "It's not worth the risk. I can't bear you to get hurt," he whispered.

"I don't intend to get hurt," Hakan promised, and Ramorran wanted to believe him. "Nor do I intend to raze the whole place and snatch your skin from its dying embers. This is perfect for a snatch and grab job. We can do those in our sleep."

Ramorran's heart ached with hope. "It'll be difficult," he argued, half-heartedly. He couldn't continue to refuse when Hakan was offering what Ramorran most yearned for.

"I'm aware." Hakan brushed his nose against Ramorran's. "But fortunately, we have an insider to advise us, hmm?"

"Ramorran!" He turned, startled, at Loula's call. "You might not know this yet, so take some advice from someone with experience – arguing with Cap is like arguing with a brick wall. Best to just nod and pretend you agreed all along."

Hakan scoffed.

Loula's solidarity let hope lift in Ramorran's heart for the first time since dawn. He wasn't alone, and together they could secure his skin. It was possible someone would come to check he was dead as soon as high tide receded, but it was more likely his family would stick with tradition and leave him until low tide the following day. The idea was madness, but they did have enough time for a quick raid. He brushed a gentle kiss to Hakan's lips. "I suppose ... you are a thief."

Hakan laughed aloud. "And a damnably good one!" He stepped back, squeezing Ramorran's hands as he turned to Ozzo and Loula. "Let's make a plan."

~

As sunset turned the sky to gold, Ramorran and Hakan returned to the cove Hakan had rescued him from and prepared to venture deeper into the network of caves that would bring them to the tribe's cavern.

"Dusk is best," Ramorran had pointed out. "Everyone will be gathered for the evening meal. I can sneak into my family's cave, get what I need and leave before anyone even realises I was there."

"We," Hakan had corrected.

Ramorran had pretended irritation, but he'd been glad of the other man's insistence. He was especially glad to have Hakan at his back now as they crept along the slippery path that led at this time of day into virtual darkness.

When they reached the right spot, Ramorran showed Hakan the steps down. "We have to swim underwater for a few yards."

"I can do that," Hakan replied steadily. "You show me the way."

Ramorran nodded. He took a step then turned back again, fears crowding around him. "If – if anyone attacks, promise me you'll run." He could face being captured by his own people again. He couldn't bear the thought of leading Hakan to his doom. "I'm already dead, and I can face that so long as you're safe."

Hakan squeezed his hands. His eyes glittered in the gloom. "I didn't rescue you from drowning only to let your family have another go. We watch each other's backs, we go in together and we'll come out together, right?"

Ramorran's heart turned over. Why had he thought his family mattered more than Hakan? Why had he tried to spurn Hakan's love when the man was positively made of romance? "Very well. Take a deep breath. There's about ten yards to navigate underwater. I'll lead the way."

He stepped up to his waist and held Hakan's hand tightly, waiting for the other man's nod before they both slipped beneath the waves and headed into danger.

They surfaced quietly to find the cavern exactly as he'd expected. The glow of the fire in the meeting place provided a focal point and made everything outside that welcoming circle seem darker than it truly was. Ramorran ached at the reminder that he'd been thrown out, never to return. It jarred, seeing the sights and sounds of everyday life continuing without him.

A peal of laughter split the air and he twitched at the joyous sound. If he'd thought the tribespeople might mourn his loss, he was wrong. He knew he couldn't expect grief when they'd so thoroughly turned their backs on him, but it still jarred. They'd got up that morning, calmly killed (so far as they knew) a son of the tribe, and now they were continuing as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Hakan reached for his hand and squeezed reassuringly. Ramorran glanced back with a nod and gestured to the left where the curtain covering the entrance to his family's cave was closeby above the waterline. He paused, scanning the scene at the fireside. He longed to see Zelzie one last time, although sense dictated the best outcome would be if she were well enough to join everyone at the meal. If she were too sick to leave her bed, someone would be sitting with her, which would make their job harder.

He didn't find Zelzie in the group, although he did see both his father and Vonda. Was it possible Zelzie was in their cave alone? He boosted out of the water as quietly as he could, watching the fire to ensure they weren't spotted. Hakan followed his example. Everything stayed as it was, the shadows cast by the fire sheltering them from being seen.

They crept silently to the entrance. Barely breathing, Ramorran made a gap in the curtain covering the entrance and peered inside.

"I'll keep watch." Hakan breathed, crouching in the shadows, watching the fire closely.

Ramorran nodded and slipped further inside.

A single lamp was burning, providing just enough light to make out the scene. He spotted Zelzie immediately: a mounded form in the bed against the wall. The covers moved in time with her steady, slow breaths. Sleeping. Doubtless that was why the rest of the family had judged it safe to leave her while they ate.

He crept to her bedside, glancing around for his skin as he went. It could be anywhere. He only hoped Vonda had passed it on already. If she'd decided to wait, or if she'd spitefully chosen to destroy it anyway...

He reached Zelzie and his search came to an end. His skin was right there, on top of the covers. A corner was gripped in Zelzie's fist while she slept.

He crouched at her side, heart aching. He couldn't just take it and go. Zelzie might think it had been stolen. She'd be devastated. And he'd do anything to spare her pain.

She was sleeping peacefully. Her throat was swathed in dressings. He hoped the healers could help her make a full recovery. Ramorran stroked the back of the hand clutching his skin, tracing her knuckles, curling his fingers over hers.

Zelzie sighed, and her eyes blinked slowly open. "Morry?" Again, he heard his name more by the shapes her lips formed than her voice, the merest whisper reaching the air.

"It's me." He stroked the puzzled frown on her brow. "I'm safe. I wanted to tell you I'm alive and I'm leaving." He freed his skin from her fingers. "But I need my skin."

Zelzie nodded. Not coming back, are you? she mouthed.

He shook his head, stroking her hair. "I can't. Best if everyone thinks I'm dead."

Zelzie's chin wobbled, but she nodded. Love you, she mouthed.

"Love you, too. Be happy, Zelzie."

"Try," she mouthed, the whisper reaching his ears.

Ramorran pressed a kiss to her forehead and forced himself to move away. He no longer belonged here, and every moment he delayed put him and Hakan in more danger.

Zelzie kissed her fingers and pressed the digits to his palm, then she made a clear, shooing gesture.

Ramorran nodded, rolled his skin swiftly and made for the entrance.

Hakan looked around as he stepped out, nodding when he saw the skin tucked under his arm.

They were about to slip back into the water when several heads popped up a few yards away. Ramorran's heart surged in alarm and they shrank back. He frowned, trying to make out who the late arrivals could be. No one had left while he'd been tied up in the cove. The whole tribe should already be here.

And then the shapes moved closer to the beach, the water shallow enough to let them stand and walk instead of swimming. As they got to their feet, blades were tugged from belts to glint in the fire's light, the newcomers' attention on those around the fire while they were hidden by the shadows. Ramorran's pulse surged as he realised the danger. They were raiders. The tribe was under attack!