Enchanted (29 page)

“Look!” Simon cried. “’Tis
Lady Amber!”

“Are you certain?”

“Aye. The first time I saw her it was like
that, her hair a golden fire all around her. By the saints, Erik is
with her! See Stagkiller pacing at the stallion’s
side?”

“He is right,” said Sven from behind
them. “And that brown stallion is Duncan’s. I know it
well, having led it back to Blackthorne only this past
summer.”

“Thank God,” Dominic breathed.

He turned and signaled to John, who came at a
run.

“Signal the keep’s people to return to
their business,” Dominic said. “And see that Lady
Margaret is informed of the number of guests.”

“Aye, lord,” John said. He turned and
sprinted for the stairway.

“We shall meet them at the gate,”
Dominic said. Then, to Sven, “Where is Deguerre’s
beloved knight?”

“I left off watching him when the bell
summoned me.”

“Was he abed?”

“Nay.”

Dominic grunted. “Is Geoffrey
recovered?”

“Aye, unfortunately.”

“From what?” Simon asked.

Both Dominic and Sven gave him an odd look.

“Geoffrey was found in the swine pen
yesterday morning,” Dominic said neutrally.

“What?” Simon asked.

Again, Dominic and Sven exchanged a glance.

“Someone stripped Geoffrey naked and left him
face-down in pig muck,” Sven said blandly.

Simon looked at the two men, who watched him
expectantly in return.

“Would that I had been the one to do
so,” Simon said dryly, “but I wasn’t. Who dealt
the fair knight his comeuppance?”

Without answering, Dominic turned and began taking
the staircase with the smooth coordination of a highly trained
warrior. Simon and Sven followed, matching Dominic step for
step.

“If I had to guess who sent Geoffrey crawling
naked through pig dung,” Sven said as they emerged into the
forebuilding, “it would be Marie.”

“Weren’t you there?” Simon
asked.

“Nay. I am weary of watching him grunt and
sweat over her at night and her over him. When she is with him, I
wait in the bailey until I see her leave.”

“But why would she leave him naked in pig
mire?” Simon asked, smiling at the thought. “She has
been like a leech on him of late.”

Sven shrugged. “Marie is a woman. Who knows
what moves her?”

“You’ve spent too much time in the
company of Erik,” Simon said dryly. “You begin to sound
like him.”

“A man of rare wit and learning,” Sven
agreed, smiling.

“I believe Sven is right about Marie,”
Dominic said. “When I went to see Geoffrey for myself, I
recognized some of the marks on his body from my stay in that
sultan’s cursed prison.”

“Geoffrey had been tortured?” Simon
asked.

Dominic smiled wolfishly. “You could say
that. Or you could say that he had been used very thoroughly by a
cruel harem girl.”

“Marie,” Simon said simply. “She
never used those tricks on the three of us, but the rest of the
knights
learned at her hands just how close
pleasure and pain could be.”

“Aye,” Dominic said.

“But why Geoffrey?” Simon said as they
stepped into the forebuilding. “What had he done to attract
Marie’s vengeance?”

“Ask your wife,” Sven said.

Simon’s eyes widened. “What does Ariane
have to do with Marie?”

“I don’t know. I do know that your
squire saw her go to Marie’s room rather late ten nights
ago.”

“Ten nights…?”

A curse hissed out from between Simon’s
teeth. He stopped dead in the center of the forebuilding.

“Aye,” agreed Dominic, stopping as
well. “The squire had heard about what happened in the
armory, when Ariane drew her dagger.”

“I will teach Thomas the Strong not to
talk.”

“It could have been Marie.”

“She knows better.”

Dominic smiled rather grimly. “Aye. Your
Edward was afraid that Marie would do something rash to
Ariane.”

“Or vice versa,” muttered Sven.

“When Edward couldn’t find you, he went
to Sven,” Dominic said.

“I got there just in time to see Ariane run
up the stairs to the battlements as though her skirts were on
fire,” Sven said, carefully not looking at Simon.

A flush that had little to do with the bracing
temperature of the forebuilding tinted Simon’s
cheekbones.

Sven laughed out loud, clapped his friend hard on
the shoulder, and said nothing more about what had happened on the
battlements between Ariane and Simon.

“Knowing that Ariane was safe, I went back to
being the shadow of Geoffrey’s shadow,” Sven said.
“Suddenly Marie appeared in the stable where he sleeps. She
had his breeches undone before he knew what was happening. It was
like that every night thereafter.”

“No wonder you have looked short of
rest,” Simon said blandly.

“Marie has some interesting techniques. And
tools. But in the end,” Sven said, shrugging, “it is
all much the same.”

Simon waited, but Sven said no more.

“So how did Geoffrey end up in the
muck?” Simon asked.

“I don’t know. The past three nights,
when Marie came to Geoffrey, I went to the gatehouse and dozed,
knowing that Geoffrey wouldn’t be getting into trouble until
well after dawn.”

Simon shook his head in silent sympathy for
Sven’s long, cold vigils.

“At dawn yesterday,” Sven concluded,
“the swinelerd found Geoffrey in the muck. He told Harry the
Lame, who came to me. I went to Dominic.”

“What did you do?” Simon asked his
brother.

“Geoffrey looked quite at home,”
Dominic said, smiling narrowly. “I left him there.”

Simon laughed out loud. After a moment, he had a
thought that wiped all laughter from him.

“What of Deguerre?” Simon said.
“From what Ariane has said, Geoffrey is like a son to
him.”

“And you
are
a
brother to me. If Deguerre objects to Geoffrey’s quarters, he
can teach Geoffrey to be less of a swine.”

Simon grimaced. “Nay. ’Tis no fault of
yours. You should have none of the burden of Deguerre’s
anger.”

“Then permit Amber to use her gift. It can be
done privately.”

Simon closed his eyes. The passionate part of him,
the part that had never willingly bowed to logic, wanted to believe
that Ariane’s maidenhead had been taken by rape rather than
by seduction.

And yet…

For an instant Simon was standing on the
battlements as he had ten nights ago, the wind icy about him and
Ariane’s mouth a soft fire between his
legs.

She could not have been a
raped virgin
.

Nor do I care. It is enough
that she wants me as no other woman has
.

And there is no doubt of that.
I have bathed repeatedly in the sultry fountains of her
desire
.

A shudder of raw hunger went through Simon as he
thought of Ariane’s abandoned response to his caresses. He
would spend a lifetime trying to get enough of her fire.

Thank God she isn’t like
Marie, getting pleasure only from controlling a man
.

’
Tis I who control
Ariane’s sensuality, not she who controls mine
.

“Simon?” Dominic asked.

“Leave it be,” Simon said roughly.
“I find no fault with my wife as she is. Nothing Amber has to
say about the past is of interest to me.”

A black eyebrow rose. Silver eyes narrowed
briefly.

Simon returned the look as directly and coolly as
it was given to him.

“What of the present?” Dominic
demanded.

“You are the master of tactics,” Simon
retorted. “Tell me, Glendruid Wolf, how is Blackthorne better
served—by my accepting a bride whose sensuality and innocence
once led her astray, or by my avenging a maiden who was raped by a
dishonorable knight?”

Though neither man spoke aloud, both remembered
what Amber had once said of Ariane’s buried emotions: A
scream never voiced. A betrayal so deep it all but killed her
soul.

And this was what must not be
avenged
.

If Ariane had been raped.

Better, far better, for Blackthorne if
Ariane’s betrayal had been of the more normal kind, a maid
seduced and then abandoned by a fickle knight.

No vengeance was required for that. Merely
acceptance.

And Simon accepted Ariane.

Dominic let out a breath that was also a curse.

“I see you begin to understand,” Simon
said coolly. “Some truths are better not known.”

Hissing Saracen phrases poured from Dominic as he
swore over the trap from which even his tactical brilliance could
find no escape.

“Aye,” Simon agreed bitterly.
“Aye and aye and aye! Listen to the wisdom of acceptance,
Glendruid Wolf.
Let it be
.”

Grim-faced, silent, Dominic spun around and started
for the gate. Simon and Sven followed closely behind.

The cobblestones were treacherous with ice in the
shadows and glistening with dampness in the thin light of the day.
Wind swirled, bringing with it the smell of snow. The thunder of
horses’ hooves over the wooden bridge and onto the
bailey’s cobblestones echoed throughout the keep.

Erik was the first to dismount. He looked from
Dominic to Simon and then around the bailey.

“All appears normal,” Erik said.

“It was until the sentry spotted your party
coming from the wildwood,” Dominic said dryly.

Erik swept off his helm and chain mail hood,
revealing sun-bright hair and the golden eyes of a wolf. He threw
back his head and whistled. The sound was high, haunting, like a
pipe played by a god. It was answered by the equally haunting cry
of a Learned peregrine.

Winter swooped down out of the low clouds and
landed on her master’s gauntleted forearm.

“Thank God all is calm,” Erik said.
“’Tis too stormy for Winter to be of much use as a
scout.”

“’Tis too stormy to be traveling at
all,” Sven said. “You should have waited for the storm
to end.”

“Cassandra feared that there wasn’t
enough time,” Duncan said, dismounting.

“For what?” Dominic and Simon asked at
once.

Erik and Duncan looked at Amber.

“To scry the truth before it is too
late,” Amber said.

“What truth?” Simon challenged.

The naked anger in his voice startled Amber,
reminding her that Simon had once called her hell-witch. She took a
deep breath and faced the man who was watching her with black
eyes.

“Cassandra said you would know which truth we
sought.”

N
o sooner had Erik and Duncan arrived
than sleet began to rattle across Blackthorne Keep’s stone
walls and pile in frozen heaps in the corners of the bailey.
Erik’s and Duncan’s men were bedded down in every place
where wind and ice couldn’t reach. So were their horses.

The keep was fairly stuffed to the ramparts by
suppertime. With trestle tables dragged up to form a huge U,
knights from three keeps sat elbow to elbow for the length of the
great hall, mopping up the last drops of meat juices with great
hunks of fresh bread.

Only Geoffrey sat alone. He was at the far end of
one of the trestle tables, as distant as possible from the
lord’s table. No squires attended Geoffrey. Nor did any
knight from any keep choose to sit near him. The separation was
enough that Geoffrey had to stand up and see to his own meal, for
no one would pass food across the gap. Not even Sven, who sat just
beyond reach.

It was the naked hostility of the Disputed
Lands’ knights toward Geoffrey that had made the Glendruid
Wolf decree that no swords would be worn within the great hall.
Dominic had considered banning daggers as well, but had decided
against it. The squires had enough running about to do at mealtimes
without having to carve meat for knights as though they were dainty
highborn ladies.

Erik sat at the lord’s table across the front
of the hall, watching Geoffrey with eyes the color of fire. The
silver dagger in Erik’s hands gleamed as he turned
the blade over with slow, almost lazy motions of his
hands. The peregrine on a perch behind his chair was in a fine
state of ire, her feathers ruffled and her feet so restless that
her gold and silver jesses chimed ceaselessly.

The falcon’s baleful golden eyes never left
Geoffrey. Nor did Stagkiller’s equally yellow glare.
Torchlight gleamed on canine fangs as the wolfhound licked his
chops and whined to be allowed to hunt.

“Erik,” Amber said in a low voice.
“Quiet your animals. You will make Geoffrey
uneasy.”

“A creature that sleeps in pig dung has no
nerves worth our concern.”

Laughter rose from the knights who were close
enough to overhear. The story of the unpopular Geoffrey being found
naked in the swine pen had passed through the keep as quickly as a
storm wind.

Amber looked to Dominic for help in curbing her
brother. She found Dominic watching Erik as carefully—if much
more warmly—as Erik was watching Geoffrey.

“I told Cassandra she should come with
us,” Amber muttered. “Erik is thinking of cutting out
Geoffrey’s tongue.”

Dominic made an approving sound.

“You are no help,” Amber said
unhappily. “Where is Meg? We could use one of her calming
brews.”

“She and Ariane are in the solar,”
Dominic said. “Meg wasn’t feeling well enough to eat in
this noisy hall.”

Something in Dominic’s tone made Erik, Simon,
and Duncan turn to look at the Glendruid Wolf.

“Is Meggie’s time at hand?”
Duncan asked with the familiarity of an old friend.

“Nay, we have more weeks to wait, though we
are both impatient to see our babe born.”

As though in answer to Duncan’s concern, Meg
and Ariane walked into the hall from the lord’s solar. Ariane
came to stand by Simon. Ignoring the other people in the hall, she
put her hand on Simon’s shoulder in a silent
bid for his attention. Nearby, Meg bent and murmured
in Dominic’s ear.

Simon missed the feral alertness that came over
Dominic, for Ariane had taken her husband’s sword hand and
was pressing his palm against her cheek.

“What is it, nightingale?” Simon
asked.

“Nothing. I just wanted to touch you. Were we
not in sight of the entire keep, I would kiss you most
soundly.”

“Hammer the keep. Kiss me.”

Simon slid his hand beneath Ariane’s
headcloth and around her neck. The marvelous softness of her skin
lured him. He tugged gently, pulling Ariane’s mouth down to
his own, shielding the caress behind the amethyst silk of her
headcloth.

Meg went to Duncan, spoke so that no one could
overhear, and then went to Amber. While Meg bent down to whisper to
Amber and Erik, Duncan rose without any fuss and went to stand
behind Simon. Simon didn’t notice, for Ariane’s dress
had flowed forward over his legs, caressing his thighs beneath the
table. Her lips parted and her tongue teased him very lightly.

Erik came to his feet in a lithe motion and walked
down the length of the hall beside Amber. Together they stopped
close to Geoffrey.

After one look at Erik’s eyes, Sven put down
his bread and moved away from the table. Within moments he had
blended into the crowd of knights. Soon he was at Dominic’s
side, poised for any new orders that might come from his lord.

“All is ready,” Meg said clearly.

“I love you, Simon,” Ariane breathed
against his mouth. “Soon you will be able to believe in me
enough to love me in return.”

The words shocked Simon. Ariane hadn’t spoken
of love since the first wild night when they had finally become
true husband and wife. He hadn’t known until this moment that
he had longed to hear the words again.

Pleasure and pain streaked through Simon equally,
for he knew Ariane wanted to be loved in return.

And he knew he could not. He would never again give
a woman that much control over him. Even Ariane.

“Nightingale,” Simon whispered.

Ariane stepped away so swiftly that she was gone by
the time Simon reached for her. She turned and began walking
rapidly down the long length of the trestle table where knights
were no longer eating. They were staring at the amber witch who had
taken off her headcloth and shaken down her long golden hair.

Abruptly Simon remembered that it was the custom of
Learned women to go with unbound hair when they sought
knowledge—or vengeance.

“
Ariane
!”
Simon cried.

She turned and gave Simon a look that was both
gentle and fierce.

“’Tis too late, Simon,” Ariane
said.

“Nay!”

Simon would have leaped to his feet, but Duncan had
a heavy hand on each shoulder, forcing Simon to stay seated.

“God’s blood!” said Simon,
struggling against Duncan. “Let go! I must stop
her!”

Duncan grunted and bore down with both hands,
pinning Simon to the chair.

“Leave off,” Duncan said through his
teeth, “or I’ll hold you with a blade between your
thighs as you once held me!”

“Be still,” Dominic said curtly to
Simon. “Ariane has the right of it. ’Tis past time for
the truth.”

“Don’t you see?” Simon snarled,
twisting abruptly, trying to throw off Duncan’s restraint.
“If that bastard son of a whore and a swineherd raped Ariane,
I will kill him and to hell with the peace of
Blackthorne Keep
!”

“I know,” Dominic said, his face grim.
“And I dearly wish I could let you carve Geoffrey into slices
as thin as winter sunshine. But I cannot.”

Duncan’s powerful hands closed painfully on
Simon, making it impossible for him to break free. Simon heaved up
his body once, twice…and then he went very still, saving his
strength for a time when his captor was less attentive.

“I am sorry, brother,” Dominic said,
touching Simon’s forearm with remarkable gentleness.

Then there was no more time for apology or regret.
Meg was speaking in the clear tones of a Glendruid witch. The hall
fell so silent that the gentle chiming of her golden jewelry could
be heard throughout.

“Sir Geoffrey has insulted the honor of Lady
Ariane. The lady has most forcefully requested that the issue not
be solved by test of arms, for such would only jeopardize the peace
that the Glendruid Wolf has worked so tirelessly to
maintain.”

A murmuring went through the assembled knights.
Each knew what was at issue. Each had wondered why Simon had not
challenged Geoffrey ten days ago, nor any day since.

Now they knew.

“Instead,” Meg continued, “Ariane
requested that Sir Geoffrey be put to the question in the Learned
manner. Lady Amber has agreed.”

“What is this nonsense?” Geoffrey
asked, banging his empty ale cup onto the table. “All the
world knows the truth of it. Lady Ariane is my—”

Geoffrey’s words were cut off by the blade of
a dagger pressed against his mouth. Thin lines of blood appeared at
either corner.

“Lord Dominic prefers you alive,” Erik
said gently, “but I have no such desire and Dominic is not my
lord.”

Geoffrey tried to jerk back, but Erik’s blade
followed him, drawing more blood.

“You will behave in a seemly manner,”
Erik said in a soft voice, “or I will cut out your tongue. Do
we understand one another?”

“Aye,” Geoffrey said hoarsely.

But his eyes said he would kill Erik at the first
chance. Erik’s eyes blazed in return while his peregrine
shrilled and lunged at the end of her jesses.

“Lord Erik,” Dominic said clearly.
“I would prefer you at my side.”

Slowly, reluctantly, Erik lowered his knife and
moved swiftly back to his place at the lord’s table. Not only
was he Dominic’s guest, but Learned questioning did not
permit force to be used unless the person being questioned
attempted to struggle. Geoffrey was showing no further signs of
resisting.

“Proceed when you are ready,” Dominic
said to Amber.

Meg gave Amber a compassionate look, knowing what
the girl was about to undergo. Amber didn’t notice. She had
eyes only for Ariane.

“Are you ready, lady?” Amber asked.

“Aye,” Ariane said. “But are you
certain you wouldn’t rather question me?”

“Yes. ’Tis important that we know each
one of Geoffrey’s truths.”

“Then we are lost,” Ariane said curtly.
“Geoffrey has no truth in him.”

Geoffrey started to speak, but thought better of it
when Erik stepped eagerly forward.

“Your turn will come to question
Ariane,” Meg said clearly, “if you require such a
questioning.”

Amber took a breath and let it out slowly,
composing herself. Then she rested one fingertip on
Geoffrey’s cheek just above the place where blood had been
drawn by Erik’s knife.

As soon as Amber touched Geoffrey, she went pale.
Sweat stood clearly on her skin. Her eyes were so dilated they were
almost black. Only her clenched jaw kept her from crying out.

Whatever Amber sensed of Geoffrey when she touched
him was intensely painful to her. Yet touching Geoffrey was the
only way Amber could learn his truth.

Or his lies.

A visible shudder moved over Amber as she used her
Learned training to control her response to touching Geoffrey the
Fair.

At the lord’s table, Simon felt
Duncan’s fingers clench in silent protest at what his wife
was enduring.

“I did not ask for either Amber or Ariane to
suffer this,” Simon said through his teeth.

“I know,” Duncan said, easing his grip.
“Nor did Amber ask that God give her the ability to see
truth. It simply is, and must be endured.”

“Why did you permit it?” Simon demanded
of Dominic.

“It was Ariane’s right.”

“To be shamed in front of the entire
keep?” Simon asked savagely. “God’s blood, she
doesn’t deserve it!”

“Yet she demanded it,” Dominic said in
a low voice. “I fear she was wronged, Simon.”

“It’s in the past!” Simon hissed.
“Ravaged or seduced, it doesn’t matter to
me!”

“It does to Ariane.”

I love you, Simon. Soon you
will be able to believe in me enough to love me in
return
.

Simon went still as pain twisted through him. Too
late, he understood Ariane’s truth. She truly believed that
he would love her if she proved herself to have been wronged rather
than merely wanton.

“Begin,” Amber said tonelessly to
Ariane.

Ariane turned to Geoffrey, looking at him for the
first time since she had come into the room.

“The morning my father told me that I was
betrothed to another,” Ariane said clearly, “did you
come to me privately and beg me to elope with you?”

“Nay, it was you who—”

“Lie,” Amber said.

Her voice was like her face, without
expression.

“Who are you to call me a liar?”
Geoffrey snarled.

“
Silence
.”

Though calm, Meg’s voice was terrible to
hear. It was the same for her eyes, a green that burned through to
the soul.

“Amber’s gift is known throughout the
Disputed Lands,” Meg said distinctly. “You may no more
lie successfully to her than you could to an angel.”

“Yet I say she has no right to judge
me!” Geoffrey said.

“Truth,” Amber said.

A startled expression came over Geoffrey’s
face.

“Do you understand, now?” Meg said.
“When Amber touches you, she discovers the truth or falseness
of your responses. You believe she has no right to judge you, so
Amber perceives your response as truthful.”

“Witchraft,” said Geoffrey, crossing
himself hastily.

Without a word Amber reached inside her tunic with
her free hand and drew out a silver cross. Bloodred amber gleamed
at five points of the cross that lay nestled in her cool hand. Her
fingers closed around the cross for the space of four slow breaths,
then opened again.

There was no mark anywhere on Amber’s hand,
no sign that the cross burned in protest at being held against her
skin.

Geoffrey looked to the lord’s table, where
Blackthorne’s chaplain sat.

“What say you, chaplain?” Geoffrey
shouted.

“Have no fear of Satan within this
keep,” the chaplain said in a voice that carried easily the
length of the great hall. “Lady Amber is like Lady Margaret,
strangely blessed by God.”

Stunned, off-balance, Geoffrey looked again at
Amber’s cross.

“Did you come to my sitting room that
evening,” Ariane said into the silence, “and did you
give me wine to drink?”