Authors: Janelle Taylor
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I love you, silly woman,” he retorted. “And I plan to make you mine when this trouble is over. It seems your snare for me is too tempting to resist. There are differences between us that must be resolved, but later.”
Alysa stared into his eyes, unaware that he knew her identity. She said, “The brigand leader said you were
the one who was supposed to abduct me and deliver me to Hengist.”
“Either he lied or his words confused you. I swear to you I knew nothing of this deed until last night, when Sheriff Trahern met with me. He suspected Skane was responsible for your disappearance. He hired me to find you and return you. Afterwards, I am to slay Skane and take his place. It seems their brigand leader is causing them too much trouble. In fact, I was supposed to slay him last night, but he was too busy abducting you to rendezvous with Trahern and I think Isobail too… and I was too concerned about you to bother with him anyway.”
“He said his leader would be unhappy with him for stealing me,” Alysa said, still not fully trusting Gavin, and determined to preserve the fiction that she was Thisbe, not Alysa. “He would keep it a secret from
her,
said he. She wants Alric’s daughter to marry her son, Moran, so the bandit was ordered to leave Alysa alone. Some of Skane’s men do not trust him,” she remarked, and explained the dissension she had observed.
“That is how I am worming my way into their confidence. Once I take over, I can defeat them a few at a time and disband them. Remember I have only six men, so I must be cautious.”
“You were right about King Vortigern. He is not involved. I am uncertain about Skane’s connection to Hengist, but I doubt the Jute chieftain is behind our trouble. Isobail is the leader, I am sure of it. Skane never called Isobail by name, but he kept dropping hints I could not miss. I saw her sneaking back into the castle Saturday night, in disguise. She must have met with someone.”
“I did not want you to know I had returned,” Gavin admitted, “since I feared your streak of courage might hinder my task. I wanted you to remain safe in the castle while I gathered proof and foiled the bandits.
After you saw my raid, I had to see you and explain my secrecy so you would not doubt me, but it was not possible.
“Nevertheless, I succeeded in sending a message to King Bardwyn, warning him of the treachery in Damnonia. We must be patient until the king can travel here with his men. Soon Alysa and Alric will be safe from them.”
Gavin smiled as he told her, “When I found the roses in the tree, I knew you loved me and trusted me. Come, we must leave quickly and find a place to hide. Soldiers are searching everywhere for you. Soon I will take you back to the castle, where you will be safe until I complete my task for your mistress. I expect no payment from Alysa, m’love, as you are all I want, and I do this for you.” Knowing it would seem strange if his band earned no living while here, he added, “But my men must have money to live on. I did not find the jewels you placed in the tree for many days after my return; they had fallen into a rotting hole. When next you leave a message or seek one from me, if the hole seems empty check the decayed area to the rear of our hiding spot. I worried over what you must be thinking when you found the pouch gone, but no message from me. When I saw you out riding, I wondered why you had left no word for me, then I found the pouch had fallen deeper into the tree. My heart rejoiced at unmasking nature’s trick.”
Gavin noticed how she was observing him, and realized he was destroying the doubts she had about him. While he had this advantage, he explained how and why he was raiding—falsely and cunningly.
Still scrutinizing him, she asked, “Do you know why Skane wanted to kidnap Alysa and sell her to Hengist?”
“Trahern said they considered Alysa the last Viking queen,” Gavin replied. “He said that would make her a valuable temptation to any Norse warrior who wanted
to force marriage on her and become the ruler of his people. Hopefully I can slay Skane and his men before news of Alysa’s bloodline spreads to others. If I fail, it could place her in more danger.”
“Would you steal and wed such a woman to become a king? Or hire out to capture one to sell to another man to do so?”
“I do not believe in slavery of any kind, m’love. And I would never wish to become a Viking ruler, or help any man take command of them. It is better to have them scattered into groups, which weakens their power and prevents them from looting our island.”
Gavin’s words sank in, and suddenly Alysa laughed and hugged him. He gazed at her strangely and asked, “Are you sure you are fine?”
“Yes, my love, I am more than fine,” she replied.
Gavin lifted one brow and inquired, “Is there something more?”
“Later my love. We must flee this place of death.”
Hours later Gavin found the large cave Giselde had mentioned to him on several occasions. He left Alysa with the horses while he inspected it with a torch. Lo cated in a ravine it the base of an earth and rock cliff, it was a perfect hiding place. The cave was sturdy and deep, snaking into the land beneath an overhang of dirt and greenery, making it nearly impossible to spot. Pleased, he returned. He lifted Alysa and carried her inside, placing her on a large boulder while he built a fire to chase away the chill and darkness. “Trojan, take care of Calliope,” he ordered softly, and the golden steed obeyed, leading the dark animal to water and grass.
After Alysa and Gavin had eaten in near silence and were cuddled between his two blankets near a romantic fire, Alysa confessed in a strained tone, “There is something I must tell you, Gavin. The bandits did not make a mistake with their capture—I am Princess Alysa Malvern,
not my servant Thisbe. I lied to you, but with good reason. Please forgive me for deceiving you, but I thought it was necessary.”
Gavin propped upon his elbow and gazed down at her. “What did you say?” he asked, staggered by her total trust in him.
Alysa explained everything to him, and prayed he would understand and forgive her. “I love you, Gavin Hawk, and I have fallen under your spell. Since we met I have been torn between wanting you and obeying my duty. My father needs me, my people need me, and I must follow my fate. But I must have you at my side or my life will be empty. With all my heart, I believe it is possible for you to find a way to be accepted in my land and life, if you agree. What more can I say?” she asked tearfully.
Gavin gazed into her deep blue eyes and considered being as truthful with her as she had been with him. But he decided he must keep the secret of his identity a while longer. “There is nothing more you need to say, Princess Alysa. Fate has thrown us together and joined our hearts; surely it will join our lives one day. I love you, and I will prove I am worthy of you.”
Tears of joy blinded Alysa as she embraced him tightly. “There is no need, my love; for no man could be more worthy of me than you are. If my people say you are not, then they are not worthy to have us as their rulers. More than the Crown, you are my destiny.”
“As you are mine,” he responded tenderly. Gavin’s arms encircled her and held her snugly against him. He felt as if his heart would burst through his chest if it did not slow down from its excited pace. Alysa was here in his arms, safe and warm. Of her own will, she was his. She was not an unattainable servant; she was a princess whose rank matched his, and a woman who wanted him. His lips drifted over her hair and face, seeking hers.
Alysa’s hands slipped beneath his tunic and caressed the flesh that covered his hard back. She yielded her mouth to his, reveling in the honeyed rapture that flowed sensuously through her veins. She closed her eyes and allowed the wildly sweet sensations to assail her as his lips kissed every inch and feature of her face. His hot breath stimulated each area to fiery life, and her skin tingled even after his lips moved onward. Gavin nuzzled her left ear, then her neck, bringing tremors to her yearning body. Alysa felt her passion building to an uncontrollable and feverish pitch.
Gavin’s hands roamed her body tentatively, as if he were hesitant to touch her. Her hands gently clasped his head and meshed their mouths hungrily. She heard a groan of desire escape his lips as they nibbled at hers. No matter how many times he kissed her, her mouth seemed to plead for another and another. There was no place on her flesh which did not crave to be touched and stroked. It had been so long, and she wanted him desperately, swiftly, urgently, and forever.
Alysa leaned away slightly and tried to remove his upper garment. Gavin shifted to assist her bold action. His green eyes widened in surprise when she pulled off her own over-tunic and kirtle, baring her body to his gaze and touch. “I am yours, Gavin. Do not hesitate to touch me or take me. Even if I am a princess, I am your woman first. I love you and want you, more so tonight than ever before. Do not restrain yourself. Love me freely and wildly.”
Gavin’s igneous gaze roved her face and body with intense desire that could not be masked. In the light of the camp fire she saw beads of moisture appear and glisten on his brow, upper lip, and in the enticing depression beneath his lower one. Her tongue mischievously licked it away, then danced over his mouth.
Gavin groaned once more and pressed Alysa to her back, searing kisses over her throat and chest before
fastening his mouth to a supple breast. He teased his lips and teeth over both, stimulating them to eager life. At his action, the taut peaks became harder and her breasts firmer. He fondled them and kissed them for several minutes as Alysa’s fingers played in his tawny hair and her head arched with pleasure.
Gavin found another bud and tantalized it until it grew fiery and hard and burst into beautiful bloom. He felt her fumbling with his battle apron, and realized she did not know how to unfasten it. While kissing her greedily, he removed it and his loincloth, leaving nothing between them.
Their ravenous bodies met and clung together, feasting madly and creating stunningly blissful temptations. Creamy flesh titillated golden flesh, and golden flesh did the same to creamy flesh. Emotion-dampened skins caressed each other and caused passion’s flames to burn brighter and hotter than the fire nearby.
Each lover’s hands and lips journeyed over the other’s body. They kissed, caressed, and examined this magic between them, this irresistible force that had drawn them together and bound them tightly. As if they had forever to linger making love, all inhibitions and modesty were cast aside. Together they explored and enjoyed this greatest and rarest adventure of all: love.
Gavin was glad the royal tattoo was missing, as he relished being able to feel lips traveling over his muscled chest. Never had he experienced anything so rapturous and enlivening as surrendering himself to this unique woman and claiming her at the same time.
When he could take no more of her staggering torture upon his senses, he captured her exquisite face between his hands, gazed deeply into her passion-glazed eyes, and vowed hoarsely, “I love you, Alysa Malvern, I love you with all my being.” As she smiled happily into his eyes, he joined their bodies, to labor lovingly, persistently, intoxicatingly, until mutual victory was theirs.
They nestled together between the blankets which, thankfully, he had brought with him, kissing lightly as they gradually relaxed. The fire was nearly out, and the damp air was getting chilly. Gavin reached across her to toss a few more small branches on the fire. The fresh wood crackled, popped, and caught fire slowly. Gavin lay down on his side and curled against her, locking her within his protective embrace.
As she wiggled to make sure no space was left between their naked flesh, he chuckled and teased, “Lie still, m’love, or you shall get no rest tonight. You can have me again at dawn, and noon, and dusk. We shall remain here during the day, then travel to the castle at night.”
Those plans sounded wonderful to Alysa. She sighed peacefully and teased, “If I must wait for you to rest, my weary dragon, then I must.”
Gavin nibbled seductively at her nape and bare shoulder. “I was restraining myself because of your fatigue, m’love. If you have- none, turn to me and take me again,” he coaxed.
Alysa rolled to her back and fused her gaze to his. “Fatigue or not, my meetings with you are too scant not to be used fully.”
That was all the encouragement either needed…. After which he held her serenely until they were asleep.
At Malvern Castle Thursday morning more treachery was afoot. Baltair returned from Land’s End, where Ahern Castle stood against the bleak coastal setting where Moran had been sired and now ruled.
As the seneschal passed through the Great Hall, Kyra rushed to him and said, “I must see you privately, Baltair. Wicked things have happened during your absence. Mother is—We cannot speak here. If we are caught, we will be slain. Treason abounds, Baltair, and you must
save the prince. Hurry to my chamber where we can talk. We must find a way to thwart Mother’s evil.” She rushed away from the intrigued man, who responded rapidly to her summons.
Kyra let Baltair into her room then locked the door. She paced nervously, dramatically. She had to carry out the murder of Isobail’s enemy as she and Earnon had planned, not as her mother insidiously desired. By helping her mother get rid of Baltair, it should make the woman beholden to her, especially since Isobail seemed to hate Alric’s seneschal so deeply. When Baltair asked her to explain her fears, she sat down at the table where he was waiting, and poured them tea, with a strawlike herb inserted in Baltair’s, supposedly for flavoring. In fact, the special herb would interact with the potion in the tea, activating it. Kyra pretended to drink hers while she calmed herself. “I am so afraid, Baltair,” she murmured as he drained his cup.
“Why so, Princess Kyra?”
“I believe Mother is trying to kill Prince Alric and take over this land. Sir Calum is her hireling, and she has given me to him as his reward. She has always hated me, and this is her way of punishing me. Have you never heard of Calum’s cruelty to women in bed?”
Kyra babbled on as she waited for the maddening drug to take effect, as Earnon had said it would. When Baltair’s head began to fall this way and that and his brown eyes took on a glazed look, Kyra retrieved the strawlike herb and tossed it into his face. As Earnon had taught her she chanted, “Wisp-of-Straw, blind him to all things but me. Wisp-of-Straw, make his blood boil for me. Wisp-of-Straw, make his manhood ache for me. Wisp-of-Straw, control him for me.”