Rise of the Defender (27 page)

     “Take the blanket off the bed,” he ordered
softly. “Spread it out.”

     Christopher personally wrapped Rebecca up
in a tight little bundle for burial while the de Velt twins took care of the
mother. No one had seen the father and assumed he was dead as well, but just to
be sure, Christopher sent a few soldiers out to search for the farmer. He
wondered vaguely if Rebecca’s father killed his family, but didn’t dwell on it.
What was done was done, and now he would have to deal with his wife’s grief.

     It seemed that death had followed him to
Lioncross Abbey. He came bearing news of death, and two deaths had followed his
arrival. He knew he wasn’t directly responsible but he wondered if Dustin would
blame him anyway. He hoped not.

     As he was leaving the hut, his eyes were
drawn to the hearth and he suddenly stopped, staring at what he saw. Two surcoats,
nearly finished except for the hem, hung untouched by the gore and carnage surrounding
them. He paused a moment before reaching up and collecting both of them, folding
them over his arm as he left the cottage of death without a hind glance.

***

     Rebecca’s death was too much for Dustin to
take. She went hysterical and it took Christopher and David both to force down
a poppy potion that knocked her out in minutes. They watched her twitch and
fidget even in her sleep, looking so tiny in the middle of Christopher’s huge
bed. Both men were deeply exhausted from the day’s events.

     “Go get some sleep, Christopher told his
brother. “I can handle her from here.”

     David nodded, moving for the door. “Damn,
Christopher, what's going on around here?” he muttered. “Ever since we arrived
there has been nothing but death.”

     Christopher looked down at his sleeping
wife, deep in thought. “Everyone close to her has died,” he said softly. “I
wonder if this is some curse I have brought back with me, manifesting itself on
her for the sins I have committed against the infidels.”

     David shook his head. “Any curse that
strong would have attacked you first… why waste it on those around you?”

     Christopher sighed heavily, removing his
hauberk and moving for his plate armor. “I will see you on the morrow,” he said,
then stopped his brother before he could close the door. “Post extra guards,
David. If we have a murderer on the loose, then I do not want him infiltrating
my keep.”

     David nodded, quitting the room. Christopher
proceeded to remove the rest of his armor and stripped off his tunic. He sat
heavily on the oak chair and pulled his boots off, pausing a moment as he felt
his fatigue. He rolled his shoulders and rubbed at his neck. Then he glanced
over at Dustin, sleeping fitfully, and wondered if she would be better on the
morrow. He hoped that Rebecca’s death didn’t throw her off the edge of madness.

     Caesar appeared at his feet, rubbing up
against him and he found he was actually glad to see the cat. He reached down
and scratched the orange ears before moving to the bed, slipping in carefully
beneath the covers and making sure his sword was at the ready.

     Dustin twitched and let out a ragged sigh,
turning over and pressing herself right into Christopher’s chest. Contentment
warmed over him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Caesar,
not to be left out, curled up against the nape of his neck and his head
vibrated with the force of the animal’s purring, yet it did not bother him.

     He was coming to like it… all of it.

***

     Dustin awoke to something tickling her
cheek. She brushed at it, thinking it to be Caesar, but it tickled her again
and again and finally opened her eyes when she heard a throaty laugh. Christopher,
propped up on one elbow, was smiling down at her. She smiled back.

     “Good morn, my lady,” he said softly.

     She stretched a bit. “Good morning,
husband,” she said, then memories from the previous evening flooded her and
tears filled her eyes. “Rebecca!” she gasped.

     His smile vanished and he enclosed her in
his arms to comfort her. “I am sorry, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “There was
nothing I could do.

     “She’s dead.” she cried softly.

     “I know,” he replied simply, not knowing
what else to say.

     Her crying was soft and mournful, deeply
painful. Yet she spared him the hysterics from the previous night.  She had
cried so much the past week that it was becoming easier to gain control. The
whole time, Christopher didn’t say a word; he simply held her, trying to give
her some consolation.

     “We must bury her,” she said finally, her
face pressed against his naked skin.

     “We will,” he answered. “Whenever you are
ready.”

     She shifted, pulling her hair free that was
trapped between them as she looked at him Gazes locked, devoured.

     “Today?” she asked.

     He nodded vaguely. “Do not rush. Whenever
you are strong enough.”

     She gazed back at him, her tears and fears
fading away as his sky blue eyes swallowed her up. They were so close, and with
his nakedness, she began to feel that giddy warmth again. The longer she gazed
at him, the stronger the feeling became.

     “I should get dressed,” she stammered.

     “As should I,” he replied, his voice raspy.

     “I cannot get up unless you release me,”
she said.

     “Do you want me to release you?” he asked.

     “Do you want to release me?” she countered,
embarrassed at the bold question.

     “Nay,” he answered, his voice silky. “I do
not. Does that shock you?”

     The giddy warmth was overwhelming her, causing
her breathing to become ragged and her hands to sweat.

     “What….what will you do to me if you do not
release me?” she asked.

     “What would you have me do?” he said in
turn.

     She shook her head slowly, her eyes never
leaving his. “I do not know. Will you kiss me again?” It was a question, not a
request, but he took it for his own interpretation.

     He answered her by clamping his lips on
hers, his lips soft and probing and his stubble scratching her silky skin. She
knew instantly that it was as wonderful as she had remembered, and her arms
went about his neck tightly. When he felt her acceptance, he let his inhibitions
go. He would have her, and he would have her now.

     He laid her back on the bed, his hands
trailing down her body as he had dreamed of for so long. Her breasts beneath
her shift were firm and round and felt wonderful against his big hands. And the
way she pushed into him as he touched her drove him further over the edge of
ecstasy. The moment he touched her, it was as if she had always been his, as if
he had touched her this way a thousand times, each was sweeter than the
previous. He found his hands were shaking with excitement when he reached up and
tore her shift right down the front, all but destroying it.

     Dustin let out a shriek but didn’t stop
him, instead, watched him as he kissed her shoulders, her chest, his great
hands so gentle on her breasts.  He kissed a circle around each breast, slowly
and lingeringly, until her breathing was so rapid she thought she might faint.
The sensations were beyond anything she had ever imagined. When he lifted his
head and suckled on a peaked nipple, he took her to a whole new level of
passion.

     Dustin nearly came up from the mattress but
his heavy body and firm hands prevented it. His mouth on her breasts was so wickedly
lustful that she could not help herself from panting, spiraling out of control
with his touch. Her hands found his thick hair, pressing his head against her
nipples to encourage him. She never wanted him to stop, for the feelings were
too wonderful to comprehend.

     But he did leave her breasts, eventually,
and his mouth kissed every inch of her supple torso, her sides, even the
underside of her arms. How in the world he could turn something like a kiss
into the most sensual experience she had ever encountered was a mystery, yet
she had no desire to think on it. All she knew was that she loved what he did
to her.

     So far, every bit of loving he had done had
been above her waist. But that soon changed and his huge hands began to touch
her groin and inner thighs. Dustin jumped as his fingers drifted over her mound
of dark-blond curls, the sensations strange and thrilling. It was such a
private and intimate touch, and she was uncertain as to whether or not to stop
him. Still, he had been completely gentle and wonderful thus far. She was struggling
with herself and he seemed to sense it.

     “Trust me, Dustin,” he whispered, kissing
her fingers.

     “I do, my lord, but….”

     He shook his head and kissed her hand again.
“You will call me Christopher in private, always. I am your husband, your lover.
I will come to know you better than anyone.”

     She looked down at him, reaching out to run
her hand through his hair. He had trusted her with his very private feelings,
once. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but it was difficult for her to
lower her defenses long enough to do it. Yet in this environment, just the two
of them, it became easier.

     “The only person who knew me well was
Rebecca,” she whispered. “I would tell her everything; my hopes and dreams and
dislikes. She was the only person I ever felt comfortable enough to confide in
because she never laughed at me, nor made fun of my thoughts. She was the only
person I ever trusted.”

     “Not even your mother?” he asked.

     She shrugged. “Mother’s ideals were
different from mine, and she would only admonish me for being a non-conformist,”
she whispered in reply, stroking his hair. “She was my mother, yet she did not
know everything about me.”

     His hand ran up the full length of her
thigh and made her shiver. “I would know everything about you, wife.”

     She gazed back at him for a long moment. “Then
know I am afraid of what we are doing, yet I think I like it all the same. Is
that strange?”

     He cracked a smile. “Not at all. 'Tis right
to be uncertain of something you have never experienced before, but I can
promise you that it will be wonderful. You must trust me.”

     She stared into his sky-blue eyes, as pure
as air. Her reluctance was gone. “I do,” she whispered.

     He blessed her with his wide, curvy smile
that sent her insides jiggling wildly, a smile rarely viewed but the most sexy,
magnificent gesture she had ever seen. She could not help but smile back as he
lowered his head and returned to running his mouth over her thighs.

     She was once again losing herself in his
touch when there was a loud rap at the door, accompanied by someone calling
Christopher's name loudly.

     Dustin jumped but Christopher merely
paused, he face glazed with passion. “What is it?” he roared.

     “Open the damn door, Chris!” It was David,
irritated that the door was locked.

     Christopher’s mouth returned to Dustin’s
lower abdomen. “Go away.”

     “Stop arguing and get out of bed,” his
brother said, pounding on the door. “Ever since you arrived here, you have been
the laziest bastard I have ever seen. Now open this goddamn door before I break
it down.”

     Christopher sighed. Obviously, David didn’t
know Dustin was still in the room. He glanced up at his wife apologetically. “I
shall see what he wants and send him away.”

     As he pushed himself up, Dustin scrambled
out of the bed and pulled her torn shift about her.

     “It’s all right, sweetheart, get back in
bed,” he told her gently, not wanting to lose the entire mood. “Let me see what
he wants.”

     Dustin snatched at the heavy coverlet and
wrapped it around her like a mummy. Christopher sighed again; he knew the mood
was already gone and she was very self-conscious. He was very annoyed with his
brother.

     He unlocked the door and David shoved it
open from the outside, plowing it into Christopher's nose. Even as Christopher let
out a grunt and put his hand to his face, David's look of irritation went to
one of regret as he realized he hit his brother in the nose.

     “Forgive me,” he insisted. “But why in the
hell did you lock the door?”

     Christopher eyed him, his hand still on his
nose. He lifted an arm in Dustin’s direction. “To better protect my wife’s privacy
from idiots like you.”

     David’s blue eyes riveted to Dustin,
standing wrapped in a blanket, and he was immediately contrite. “Oh, Jesus, I
am sorry,” he said. “I did not know she was still in here.”

     “She is,” Christopher gingerly wrinkled his
tender nose. “What in the hell is so important?”

     David looked at his brother, clearing his
throat. “Uh… Mistress Rebecca's father came to the gates before dawn. He is
insisting that the bodies be buried immediately to prevent demon possession.