Authors: Janelle Taylor
“Upon my life and honor,” he vowed. “We have remained here too long. We must get out of sight. Tell me what happened between you and those Jutes,” he asked as they crossed the nearby meadow and entered a dense forest.
“I was right, they
were
Jutes,” she said pensively. They dismounted and walked side by side, heading deeper into the woods. “Could that possibly mean Isobail’s words are true? Could Vortigern be plotting against us, or allowing these bandits to hide and work from Logris?”
“I have met Vortigern. He is a foolish man, but not a stupid one. I believe the bandits are renegades from Hengist’s clan. I doubt the Jute chieftain would want his men raiding here. That could entice Logris and Damnonia to band together to push them out of Britain. I would imagine that neither of them knows about the trouble here, or if they do, believe it has nothing to do with each other.”
Shadows surrounded them as sunlight was blocked by towering trees. An aura .of serenity danced upon the
mild breeze which teased through the greenery around them, making little noise on the supple leaves. It was cool and refreshing here, and smells of nature teased at their nostrils. Only the singing of birds reached their ears. They dropped their reins to the ground and continued their stroll, hoping the tranquility of this place would spread to them.
When they halted and looked at each other Alysa asked, “Do you think it would help to send news of our trouble to Vortigern and Hengist?”
Gavin leaned against a tree before he replied. “No, Thisbe, that would reveal how vulnerable your land and ruler are. It is best to defeat the brigands here. Yet Sheriff Trahern makes little effort to do so. He seems to seek only enough action to fool the nobles and peasants. If we started foiling them, that would show it was possible, and should make the people suspicious. But if we do, we may get too much attention from the wrong people. Do you catch my meaning?”
Alysa locked her gaze to his, and stepped closer to him. Her fingers traced the shape of his sensual mouth and slipped over his strong chin to wander down his throat, halting at his heart. She felt its beat quicken, as did hers. She wanted to tell him she was his for the taking, but she knew her gesture told him for her. She saw him watch her, and she recognized an inner struggle exposed in his troubled eyes.
Gavin’s hand captured hers, brought it back to his lips, and then his mouth pressed kisses to each fingertip. But his compelling eyes never released hers, and both knew what longings filled the other. Their eyes said far more than any words could, and they allowed them to speak to each other. Everything and everyone else seemed nonexistent at that moment. His hand eased into her hair and drew her head to his chest, then he placed his jaw atop it.
Alysa sensed his tormenting dilemma. He could not
deny that he wanted her, needed her, but… She closed her eyes tightly and prayed he would relent, for he was such a strong-willed man, and might adhere to his earlier words. She nestled against him and slipped her arms around his waist. She heard his heart pounding forcefully in her ear and felt the tautness in his body. She was afraid to speak, fearing the sound of her voice could break the romantic spell forming around them.
Time passed, and she wondered if he was summoning the strength to send her away. In panic, she tightened her embrace and waited.
Gavin recognized the reason for her tension, and his body responded to the way she was clinging almost desperately to him. He called her words to mind, and asked himself if she truly meant them. Even if she did, was it fair to her? One of her statements returned to haunt him. He had to respond to it. “You asked if I was displeased with our union yesterday. Nay, m’love; I have never experienced one of such beauty and pleasure. Perhaps that is what alarmed me, to discover such deep emotions within me. How can I ever desire another woman after taking you?”
She lifted her head, smiled, and told him, “I am yours for as long as you desire only me, Gavin. When that desire changes, I will let you go. But not yet. Please, not yet.”
“Nay, m’love, not yet,” he agreed hoarsely as his mouth drifted over her face and hair. “For as long as it is possible between us, I cannot resist you. I cannot be blamed, for you have bewitched me.”
“As you have done to me,” she retorted, pulling his mouth to hers, for she could wait no longer to taste his sweet submission.
Gavin’s arms banded her securely and pressed her against his pleading body. His mouth sealed to hers and his tongue joyfully explored the delicious area. Had it only been one day since he had taken her? How so, when it seemed more like years?
They kissed and caressed until both their bodies were ablaze with fiery passion. Hands roamed freely and leisurely, as if they had forever to make love. The flames within them burned brighter and fiercer. Yet they continued to stimulate each other and themselves, not wanting to rush this precious stolen moment. They labored lovingly until their hungers craved to be fed, but still they tempted their appetites until they demanded immediate appeasement.
Gavin’s adroit hands loosened and removed her garments, then lay her upon a bed of supple grass. His smoldering gaze wandered over her shapely figure,
branding his messages of love and desire into her quivering flesh. He was glad she made no attempt to cover herself, but seemed to relish his admiring gaze. She was so sleek and beautiful, and he could wait no longer to feel her naked body touching his. He took off his boots, trousers, and loincloth, but not his short over-tunic. He reclined beside her and looked into her entreating eyes.
When his lips brushed over her nipples, she inhaled sharply and moaned her encouragement. His tongue circled one taut peak before taking it into his mouth to suckle on it, then he did the same to the other one. Blissful sensations rocked her body, and she pressed his head closer to her tingling breast. His hand drifted down her stomach and she parted her thighs in welcome, allowing him to travel into her furry domain. She writhed with delight as he tantalized the flaming’ bud of her womanhood. She had to touch him in a similar manner to feel his torrid shaft within her grasp. She boldly closed her lingers around it and massaged it gently, savoring its strength and heat and hunger.
His body was hard, yet yielding to her touch. Her fingers admired the heights and depths and curves they encountered as they journeyed over his enticing frame. He was magnificent, and he gave her such mind-staggering pleasure. How could she not want to yield to him time and time again? How could she not throw herself into his arms and tempt him beyond resistance? He was driving her wild with his actions, yet she entreated more and more.
Gavin’s entire body ached for his throbbing manhood to enter her and he did so very gently. He had known his control would be tested the moment he slipped within her, but it was harder to master than he had imagined. It quivered perilously, and he went rigid as he silently begged it to resist for a while. His nerves were on edge from the tension of holding back when
he wanted to make wildly passionate love to her. He tried to think of other things to help cool the torrid flesh, but nothing worked. She was too tempting and consuming. He risked a few strokes, but halted again as his willful manroot tried to plant its seeds in the moist and fertile area that surrounded it.
Alysa greedily feasted on his mouth and squirmed beneath him to take all of him. She locked her legs around his buttocks, driving him deeply and snugly within her. Her lips and tongue worked at his ear and over his throat. She sensed his tight control was unnecessary. “Love me, Gavin, love me now,” she pleaded, fusing their mouths.
Gavin hoped he understood her urgent whispering correctly, for he began slowly to enter and withdraw, then gradually increased his pace until he was moving to the same beat of their hearts. Suddenly she cried out and clung to him, then matched his swift search for rapture. They rode love’s stallion locked together until their victory left them weak and damp from their exertions. Still they held on to each other, waiting for total contentment to engulf them.
They lay snuggled together for a long time, and dozed in the peaceful aftermath of love’s ecstasy. When Gavin opened his eyes he realized how late it was getting. He whistled for Trojan, and the steed responded. Gavin used water from his skin bag to wash, then quickly donned his garments. He sat down beside Alysa and teased hair over her nose, awakening her with his laughter as she tried to brush it away.
Her eyes opened and she smiled up at him. “It grows late,” she murmured, then stretched and yawned.
“There is water in the bag to bathe with, m’love. When you are dressed, join me where Calliope awaits us. I will follow you at a safe distance until you reach the castle gate. No doubt Princess Alysa will question you about your late return. What will you tell her?”
Alysa grinned and remarked, “Why not the truth?” When he looked surprised, she said, “Well, most of it. She will tell no one about us.” Suddenly she felt modest, and very naked, for he was fully clothed. She reached for her kirtle and covered herself.
He smiled, and warmed to her once more. “I will give you privacy, my fetching maiden, but do not make me wait too long, for our time together has vanished. Nothing would please me more than to spend the night here with you, making love to you many times. If you do not dress quickly and join me, I will be tempted to keep you here by agreement or by force.”
She laughed merrily. “Our bloods have cooled, my lusty dragon, now we must cool our heads. Have you forgotten there are other matters to be consumed besides a helpless maiden?”
“Do you mean my fiery breath can have no more effect on you today?” he teased, dropping to his knees before her. His blond hair was mussed, and she finger combed it for him. His eyes sparkled with happiness and mischief. He seemed totally relaxed with her.
“It has singed me from head to foot, Sir Dragon. Is that not enough for you? If you do not remove your devouring eyes from me, I shall forget all else except you and your delightful threat. Then we will be in trouble, for the castle guards will be out seeking this lost maiden, and will not take kindly to your capture.”
His keen senses took in her beauty and mood, and they returned his insatiable hunger for her. “I shall never have enough of you, m’love,” he stated huskily, then left quickly.
Alysa watched his hasty retreat and guessed the reason for it.
As I shall never have enough of you, my love,
her heart replied. She hurriedly removed the evidence of her afternoon of lovemaking and pulled on her garments. She joined him, put her filthy cloak in her saddlebag, and mounted Calliope in silence.
They rode without talking until the castle was visible in the distance. “You best go no closer, Gavin. One of the men-at-arms may sight you and ask questions. I left a note for you in the tree, but I have told you all it said. Will… I see you tomorrow as planned?” she asked, fearing his answer.
Gavin wanted to yank her from the large dun and race away with her, but he could not. She had snared him good. He replied, “Be there at noon, or I shall come looking for you.”
Alysa’s radiant smile brightened her entire face. “Nothing can keep me away, Gavin, nothing. I promise to be more than careful when we meet.”
He watched her until she safely reached the castle, then turned to head for his camp. He wished he could ask her about Squire Teague, whom Giselde and Piaras claimed she loved. He worried over their impression, as there had to be a logical reason behind it, but he could not explore that area without arousing her suspicions. She would think he had been asking questions about her, and he did not know how she would react to his curiosity. If she had loved Teague before meeting him, he mused, it could no longer be true. She had come to him a virgin, and she had called him her “heart’s desire.” She had yielded to him twice as a woman in love. That had to mean he was the only man in her heart and life. It had to…
Alysa was not permitted to visit her father tonight, and had not seen him since his violent relapse. She depended on Leitis for reports on his sad state. But Alysa was too preoccupied to realize how subdued Leitis was today, or how the servant seemed convinced they had probably been wrong about the poisonings.
She was compelled to accept that fact because it seemed impossible for her father to receive any harmful
herbs; yet he remained ill. Even Baltair, who was knowledgeable about herbs, had his doubts. He and Leitis were guarding Prince Alric closely, but could find no evidence to support such suspicions. That should relieve her, Alysa thought, but it did not.
At least there was one matter that delighted her; Kyra had avoided her almost completely for the last ten days, as if her stepsister had forgotten her offer of friendship. Perhaps, Alysa mused, Kyra has a secret love too. That would explain her frequent absences around the castle. If so, love might soften Isobail’s daughter for the best.
The castle had been quiet since Isobail’s return. Everyone had been taking meals in their rooms, leaving the Great Hall deserted. The servants and retainers had continued their tasks as if nothing unusual was taking place.
As for Alysa, when she was not riding or meeting with Gavin, she spent her lonely hours sewing, reading, grooming, and exercising in the outer ward. Since childhood she had enjoyed watching the workers and talking with them, and visiting the peasants and villages. While growing up she had been taught weaving, embroidery, cooking, social graces, and household administration. She had learned how to dance, flirt, converse, and sing. Yet such things seemed frivolous to her, and she wanted more than the boring existence of daughter and wife.
Until Isobail’s marriage to her father, she had spent many hours with Baltair, studying and learning how to rule Damnonia one day. The seneschal was responsible for the keeping of accounts and the dispersing and collecting of food and supplies, fines, and taxes. It was Baltair’s task to know all of the ins and outs of farming, to know what kinds of stock and fowl were available, and to know how to keep the prince’s money cache full. It was the seneschal’s duty to prepare any document the ruler might need. Running a castle and estate was a time-consuming task, but running an entire land was
an enormous one, one which Baltair did for Alric with skill, and which Isobail had been undermining through favoritism and harder taxation policies.
It was after the evening repast when Princess Isobail summoned her. Alysa hated to confront her, but knew she must. At her stepmother’s chamber Ceit opened the door and bade her enter and be seated. “You wished to see me, Princess Isobail?” she asked formally.
Isobail did not sit down; she leaned against a nearby table and looked down at her—intentionally, Alysa decided. Meanwhile she boldly watched her stepmother, her steady, neutral gaze concealing her apprehensions and dislike. Isobail’s white-blond hair hung down straight, shiny, and beautiful; her sky-blue eyes exposed vanity and coldness tonight, as if she did not care what Alysa perceived.
For a time the two women studied each other. Then Isobail said, “As a mother and regent, I have given certain matters grave thought, Princess Alysa. I believe it is time for my two daughters to be wed. Kyra is approaching twenty-two and you are almost nineteen. When I return from Lord Orin’s, I shall entertain suitors for you and Kyra. After my selections are made, the betrothals will be announced at a great feast. Although there is great trouble in our land, we must continue life as normally as possible. I leave for Sir Kelton’s in the morning. During my journey I shall let-it be known I am seeking to arrange marriages for my daughters. While I am gone, decide if there is a special man who catches your eye. If he is worthy of our land’s princess, I will agree with your choice.”
Alysa stared at the brazen woman. She could not believe what she had heard. For a time she was more angry than she was afraid. “You are not my mother or Damnonia’s ruler, and you have no right to arrange my marriage,” she stated defiantly.
“This command comes from your father, the Prince
of Damnonia. It is impossible for you to refuse your duty to him and to your land. You know you must obey him.” Isobail’s tone challenged her to refuse.
Alysa stood her ground. “Let my father speak this command to me, and let him choose my husband. It is not your place to do either.”
“Your father—my husband—lies very ill. He is too weak to argue with a foolish child. He has commanded you to wed before winter. As regent, I will carry out his wishes.”
Alysa angrily scoffed, “You cannot force me to marry a man of your choosing. Do you forget who I am? This land’s future ruler!”
“After your father dies, Alysa, not before. While he lives, I am regent in his place. You will do as you are told. If you refuse, I will imprison you in your tower until you obey.”
Many thoughts raced through Alysa’s mind. If she were locked up—and she did not doubt that Isobail would carry out her threat—she could not see Giselde or Gavin or find ways to defeat this evil creature. She must behave as Isobail assumed she would…
“Well, Alysa? What shall it be?” Isobail inquired. “Do you think I lie about Alric’s orders? Or mishandle them?”
Alysa sighed heavily and shrugged in feigned resignation. “I have no reason to doubt your word, Princess Isobail. From what I hear, Father is lucky to have you step in for him. Everyone is praising your deeds, and all is running smoothly. I was simply unprepared for such news. If this is what Father wants, I must obey. He is very ill, so I must not distress him further. I suppose I have reached that age, but I have not given it any thought because of Father’s illness and all the trouble. I will be allowed to study each suitor and make my own choice?”
“If you wish,” Isobail remarked. “I will give you one month to become betrothed, and three months to wed.”
“What of Kyra? She is the eldest and should wed first. She will be angry, perhaps embarrassed, if she is wed second.”
“Upon my return, Kyra will be betrothed to Sir Calum. They will wed within the month. Keep this news a secret until I announce it.”
“What does Kyra think about Sir Calum?” Alysa asked inquisitively.