Arrow To The Heart (De Bron Saga) (26 page)

"De Bron," she whispered, all of her fear vanishing as she suddenly realized that it was she who had the power to hurt right now and not he.  But she wanted to give him pleasure not pain.  "Kiss me again."

He did, his knowing, seeking lips moving with tender urgency across hers, his tongue finding again the inner warmth and sweetness of her mouth.  His large body covered hers with a blanket of warmth. Rowena felt the rasp of his chest hair against her breasts and answered his kiss with sweet, aching desire.  But kisses weren't enough.  His lovemaking was making her far more intoxicated than the ale. She wanted. She needed.

"Kendrick....love me..." she breathed, feeling intensely sensitive to his slightest touch.

"In due time...."  Sensuously he undulated his hips between her legs and every time their bodies caressed, each experienced a shock of raw desire that encompassed them in fiery, pulsating sensations.  Then his hands were between their bodies, sliding down the velvety flesh of her belly, moving to that place between her thighs that ached for his entry.  His gentle probing brought sweet fire, curling deep inside her with spirals of pulsating sensations.  Then his hands left her, to be replaced by the hardness she had glimpsed before, entering her just a little then pausing.

"Take me, de Bron.  I'm not afraid," she said, clenching his neck feverishly.  And she wasn't.  Not now. To p
rove it to him she reached out and guided him into her softness.

Kendrick's size made her ache, but there was only a brief moment of pain.  The other sensations pushed all discomfort away.  Rowena was conscious only of the hard length of him creating unbearable sensations within her a
s he began to move within her. Capturing the firm flesh of her hips, he caressed her in the most intimate of embraces. His rhythmic plunges aroused a tingling fire, like nothing she had ever imagined she thought as she arched herself up to him, fully expressing her love. 

Kendrick groaned softly, the blood
pounding thickly in his head. She was so warm, so tight, that he closed his eyes with agonized pleasure. His hold on her hips tightened as the throbbing shaft of his maleness possessed her again and again. It had never been so good for him before. Ever. Because of love? He knew it to be so. 

"Rowena, my love......." he sighed with sensual tenderness.

Instinctively Rowena tightened her legs around him, certain she could never withstand the ecstasy that was engulfing her body. It was as if the night shattered into a thousand stars, bursting within her.  Arching her hips she rode the storm with him. As spasms overtook her she dug her nails into the skin of his back.

A sweet shaft of ecstasy shot through Kendrick and he closed his eyes
, whispering her name again and again. Even when the intensity of their passion was spent he still clung to her, unable to let this magical moment end.  He touched her gently, wonderingly.

It was a long, long time before either of them spoke.  Propping herself up on one elbow, Rowena looked at Kendrick de Bron long and hard, deciding quickly that she had no regrets.  Still, she would never let him know how deeply he had shaken her.  Instead she said simply, "I must admit that what happened b
etween us was decidedly pleasurable, de Bron."

"Oh....."  Playfully he bent his head to her breasts, his tongue flicking and teasing.  "Shall we do it again?"

She thought a moment, remembering all that he had done, but before she could answer the forest was shattered by the pierce of a horn and the moment was lost.  "Alas, I fear we have no time," she exclaimed. The fear of being caught and found out to be a woman sent her scurrying for her garments. Likewise Kendrick sought for his clothing, then like two conspirators trying to feign complete innocence, they headed back toward the camp, though not without looking at each other from time to time.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Love.  Just a word to Rowena before.  An emotion for fools.  Something to avoid.   Now as she walked back towards the camp with Kendrick de Bron it had a new meaning of warmth and joy.  Tonight she had become a woman. Was that really so bad?

"No," she breathed.  Quite  the contrary.  What had happened between de Bron and herself at the lake at last  made her realize that her femininity was not a curse but a blessing.  Her body was capable of enjoying such wondrous feelings that it was staggering.  Desire and it's fulfillment were unequaled by anything she had ever experienced.  Anything!

Not that she was going to change herself in any way. Oh, no. Just because she gave in to her passion didn't mean she would give up her freedom and content herself with being the proper little wife. It was just not in her nature to be dominated, not even by such a magnificent specimen of manhood as de Bron, she thought, glancing at him now.  No, she was what she was. Hopefully he would respect and admire that. 

"De Bron......"  She wanted to ask him so many things, but as he turned his head she didn't really know where to begin, thus she asked merely, "what are you thinking?"

He answered truthfully. "That I am going to have the devil's own time keeping my eyes and hands off you now."  He shook his head. What had passed between them had changed everything.  Now, having possessed her, he could never turn away, never give her up.   He had to accept the truth for what it was.  He loved her.  "I fear I just might give myself away."

"And in so doing, me as well."  And yet, having felt the touch of his hands, the softness of his lips, the hardness of that which made him male, how could she even think to tell him to stay away.  She loved being Arrow, one of Robin Hood's "men" but in her heart she knew she cared for him even more. 

He mistook her expression.  For just a moment he knew fear as he asked,   "Are you sorry about what passed between us, Rowena?"  If she said yes, he knew it would be agonizing.

"Sorry?"  Once she might have toyed with him, teased.  Instead she answered from her heart.  "Never.  Tonight was the most wonderful of my life."  Without even thinking about what she did, Rowena stood on tiptoes, closing her arms around his neck.

"For me as well," he exclaimed. 

His mouth descended upon hers, kissing her with a passion that rekindled the spark of desire that had flamed so brightly.  Wrapped in each other's arms in the shadow of the trees, they kissed and fondled each other, giving in to the fierce emotions that raced through them.  It was as if they wanted to memorize the feel of each other for those moments when they would be forced to keep at least an arm's length apart.

"Oh, Rowena!" he groaned, his mouth roaming freely, stopping briefly at the hollow of her throat, lingering there, then moving slowly downward to the skin exposed at her shoulder. "How can I stay away from you. How can I bear it?"

"I don't know." She could feel the pulsating hardness of his manhood and wanted desperately to be naked against him again, to feel the warmth and power of him.  Lost in the flush of sensations which swept over her, she held him tightly against her, forgetting all reality for the moment, that is until she heard the sound of a twig snapping beneath someone's foot.

"Kendrick.  Arrow......"

Instantly they pulled away from each other.

"We have been looking for you two.  Where have you been."  The voice belonged to Little John, much to Rowena's relief.

"De Bron, here, had too much to drink," she said with a sly smile.  "I followed him into the woods to make certain he didn't get lost."  She fought the urge to look into Kendrick's eyes for fear their passion would be mirrored in the depths of that glance.

"Aye, he did,"  Kendrick explained quickly, making great show of staggering as he walked to add credence to her explanation.  "God bless the lad."

"It's drunk that you be?"  Little John threw back his head and laughed.  "Well, this should sober you up."  Before Kendrick had time to even think he found himself thrown over the big man's shoulder.  Then he was being carried and lastly thrown into the waters of a nearby stream.  He came up sputtering.  "Feel better now?"

Though his temper flamed, Kendrick held it in check.  "Aye.  Much."  He stood up, brushing at his soggy clothing.

Little John elbowed him in the ribs as he snickered, “Ah, but you hardly look at all like the man with such a high price on his head now.” He said.

“Don’t I,” Kendrick replied, then turning towards Rowena he winked as he said. “I hear that the Lady Rowena is said to be quite a handful. Hardly the kind of woman a man could run off with.”

“Then add it to the prince’s many lies. No doubt he imagined that decrying such a thing would give him an excuse to make of you an outlaw.”

“No doubt.”

Little John nudged Kendrick in the ribs, “As it is her father has offered a small fortune for her return, as well as a reward for your head upon a platter.”

“Sir William?” Kendrick’s eyes caught Rowena’s. Something was very wrong. They had left after her father had been summoned by the prince. Moreover, Sir William was favorable to a match. He would never make such an accusation.

“He would never!” Rowena blurted out, then amended, “Or so I would suppose.” Ah, but she was so worried.  Prince John must surely have forced her father to make such a decree. If so, then surely it meant that her father was in even more danger than she first supposed. But where was he? She had to find out.

“I know what you are thinking.” As soon as Little John left them alone, Kendrick gently touched her arm.

“I imagine that you do
.”

“But you must not take a chance on being caught yourself. No heroics, dear ‘Arrow’. Your father would not want you to be caught.” He emphasized, “You are
safe
here.”

“For the time being perhaps, but what good is that when I do not know the fate of my own father?” She went in search of her bow and arrows, intent on a rescue, but Kendrick held her back.

“We’ll send a message to Chadwick. Far better for him to inquire about your father than for you to leave the hideout.” He made her a promise. “Once we learn what is happening, I will aid you in your rescue.”

Searching for parchment, quill and ink, Kendrick soon found what he sought among Allan-A-Dale’s belongings. The minstrel was often writing down ballads and songs or love poems, that is when he was not strumming upon his harp.

“Here.”

Rowena stared down at her hands feeling suddenly helpless and foolish. “I can not read or write,” she confessed. In truth, few women could. It was not deemed important that they learn.

Kendrick’s eyes were gentle. Writing was just something he took for granted, having been taught by his Uncle Geoffrey, once a cleric.  Perhaps one day he would teach Rowena to write just as his uncle had taught his aunt, Kendra.

“Then I will write the message for you.”

It was a short message, seeing as how Chadwick’s vocabulary was limited. In it Kendrick explained that the Lady Rowena was safe and in good care, warned Chadwick about the danger they were all in, and asked Chadwick to try and find out the whereabouts of the lady’s father. He set up a meeting at a bridge in Nottingham for Chadwick and himself so that he might set the lady’s mind at ease.

Folding the paper in fourths, Rowena stuck it down the front of her tunic to be held safely within the straps of her breast binding. She wanted to find a messenger in the abbey nearby, someone whose presence in
Nottingham would not be questioned. Overhearing Will Scarlet and Robin Hood talking about a portly friar gave her just the opportunity that was needed.

“I have seen him. I say that he is the match for both you and Little John.”

“A friar, you say? By our Lady, I would want to meet such as he. BiGod, we will ask him to join us.” Rowena had learned that it was Robin’s way to seek  out those who could give aid to his band of merry men. “Come lads, who else would like to join us?”

Rowena was the first to step forward. “I will.” Kendrick was second. Three other outlaws likewise decided to venture forth. The small band set forth through the waterfall, over the rolling hills, winding through pathways until they came to a
stream. Cautiously they paused, listening to the deep melodious voice:

“Well, ‘tis folly to love a young maiden,

Or to follow the ship to the sea,

‘Tis well to be jolly and well fed,

And to have freedom to lay ‘neath a tree.”

The voice singing was deep and warbled more than slightly off key. Allan-A Dale wrinkled his nose in dismay. “Hopefully he is better at fighting than at singing.”

Rowena took a hesitant step forward, anxious for a look at the singer, but quickly stepped back as she heard a voice say, “I shall have a bit of meat pie. Truly it is tasty.”

Another voice, higher of pitch, answered, “Nay, nay. T’would be much better to ease your hunger with a bite of mutton.”

“There are two men,” she whispered to Kendrick. “Surely we can persuade one of them to carry forth the message.”

Boldly
Robin Hood pushed through the trees to encounter the two men. Rowena, Kendrick and the others followed. What they saw was amusing. Sitting all alone was a portly friar talking to himself, using a different pitched voice to answer, turning his head from side to side as he spoke to denote two different personages.

Rowena studied the friar. His head was bare except for a fringe of brown hair where it had been tonsured, his cheeks were red as two apples, his nose bulbous, his plain brown habit tied by a rope around his corpulent stomach. He wore a sword, which peeked from beneath the folds of his garments.

We will have some fun with this one, eh lad?” Robin poked Rowena in the ribs, then grabbing up his bow, confronted the holy man.

“Good friar, I demand that you act as my donkey. Come hither that you may carry me across this stream, ere I wet my fine leather boots.”

“Carry you? The friar looked up with anger in his beady dark eyes, but seeing the arrow pointed at him soon put down his food and did as he was bid. Rowena watched as her outlaw leader climbed upon the back of the friar.

“’T is cruel to play such a jest on the poor friar,” she said aloud. She did not feel sorry for him for long, however. As he reached the other side the holy man took Robin unaware and brandishing a sword held Robin at bay.

“Do unto others,” the friar said with a laugh. He motioned for Robin to act like the beast of burden and Rowena could hear Robin Hood’s groan all the way across the stream as he struggled to carry the friar back to the spot where he had been enjoying his supper. Surely the corpulent friar was a heavy load.

“Thank you my son.” Sitting back down, the friar picked up his mutton, obviously considering the jest to be at an end. Robin, however, seizing the friar’s sword, continued with the playful joust.

“Turnabout is fair play.” Once again he climbed upon the friar’s back.

Not to be outdone, the friar bent down and sent the hero of
England flying over his head, into the cold water of the stream. Sputtering, Robin moved his arms about as he began to swim.

“Need a hand?” Kendrick gave his friend a hand out of the water, pulling him upon the grassy bank. “I can’t remember another time when you have been so outwitted.”

“Outwitted?” Reaching for Little John’s sword, Robin fell upon the poor friar. The forest echoed with the sound of their battle. Rowena held her breath, fearing that one or both of them would be wounded. When at last they were finished, however, and each lay laughing upon the ground, their energies spent, the two acted more like small boys than the fierce fighters that they were.

“Friar Tuck, I am.”

“Robin Hood!” Bolting to his feet, Robin grasped the friar’s outstretched hand and helped him to his feet. “Your reputation is well deserved.” Robin invited the friar to join them. “It is whispered that you would like to see the prince humbled.”

“I would.”

“Then come with us. You would add a great deal to our band.”

Scratching his head, Friar Tuck thought over the offer. “Ah, but let me eat. I cannot make such a decision on an empty stomach.” He tore at the leg of mutton as if he were a starving man, eating while all watched. His enjoyment of the food made Rowena hungry. The friar did not offer anyone food, however, then when at last all the food was gone, he picked up his sword. “Let us be off.”

“Not yet!” Grabbing hold of the friar’s sleeve, Rowena made her plea. “I have a message that must get to Nottinghamshire. Will you help me?”

The friar’s eyes were sympathetic, as if he sensed her desperation. “Nottinghamshire. Nottinghamshire, you say.” He put his stubby fingers to his head as he thought. “Why, as it is I seem to remember that they have an excellent bakery and ale house there.” Cheerfully he agreed.

Without a second thought, Rowena thrust the parchment into the goodly friar’s hand. “Do you think that he can be trusted?” she asked Kendrick as she watched the friar walk away.

“We soon shall see.”

The hum of voices droned in the air as the townspeople moved in and out of the fixed stalls and small shops of the marketplace. The air was rent with the odors of cloves, garlic and fish. True to his word, Friar Tuck delivered the message to Chadwick and arranged a time for the meeting between Kendrick and his servant in
Nottingham. Now, winding down the cobbled streets, Kendrick hurried to the bridge.