Books by Maggie Shayne (287 page)

"Will you tell me then? Your feelings about your sister?"

She nodded again. "Aye, I'll tell you. When you love me, Nicodimus. When you love me."

She rose slowly, and pulled her shawl from around her shoulders, to spread it upon the ground. Sitting down upon it she tucked her legs under her, and used her arms upon

the log as her pillow. "I will rest now," she whispered.

I only nodded, and watched her for a time. She hadn't slept much the night before. Her grief had been too raw to allow it. I was glad to see her eyes this heavy, her head this relaxed. When her breathing became deep and steady, I knew she truly slept, and knew how badly she needed it. So when she shivered, I sat down close beside her. I did not wish for the cold to interrupt her rest.

I had not expected her to curl against me, drawn instinctively to the warmth of my body. I had not expected her head to rest upon my lap, nor her arms to curl tight about my waist. And when they did, I had no idea what to do about it.

I sat there a moment, looking down at the vision twined around me, debating inwardly. Finally realizing that this woman was to be my wife. I do not think it had hit me fully until that moment, when she rested against me, a warm weight of softness and beauty. I was to be not only her protector, but her husband. It would take every ounce of will I possessed not to make her my wife in every sense of the word. Every ounce of will.

Yet I was the strong one. I was older, wiser, and far more powerful. She needed my help, not my desire. I could handle my own body and its incessant demands. To prove this to myself, I relaxed there on the ground, and put my arms around her, held her gently against me. Kept her warm.

And died a thousand deaths before I finally fell asleep.

When Arianna stirred awake, she felt his arms pull her closer to him. As Nicodimus came slowly awake, his body went hard and tight, and his eyes when they opened, blazed with something she had never seen in them before.

For just an instant, its intensity frightened her, and she pulled away with a soft gasp.

Nicodimus closed his eyes, and when he opened them that look was gone. He said nothing. She wasn't certain of what to say either. Suddenly arousing this man's passion took on a frightening new prospect. She hadn't realized what a powerful force she might be bringing to life. Could

she deal with his passion? Could she ever satisfy a man such as he?

He wanted to know her innermost feelings about her sister. But she could not yet confide in him her certainty that the Gods had made a mistake that black day. That they must have meant to take her, Arianna, the eldest. The troublemaker. The rebel. Never could they have intended to take the most gentle, tender soul ever to draw breath. She knew inside that it should have been her to surrender to the murky depths of the loch. Not Raven. And that perhaps, had she not fought so hard to survive, the greedy loch would not have taken her precious sister in her stead.

That was the secret she kept, and it was hers alone.

But even now Nicodimus's dark gaze searched her face, probing and seeing far too much. And there was more there. There was a heat blazing behind his gaze. One so intense it was frightening. And yet exciting to her.

"The—the fire has burned out."

"Yes," he said, watching her through narrowed eyes as she rose to brush the dust and twigs from her skirts. Nervous hands fluttered about her hair, smoothing it. She darted quick glances all around. Busying herself by picking up and shaking her shawl, and then arranging it with exaggerated care around her shoulders.

"Arianna," Nicodimus said, very softly.

She went still and looked down at him. He sat, still resting with his back to the log.

"You needn't ever be afraid of me."

She tried a smile, but it was forced. "I'm nay afraid of anything, Nicodimus. Why on earth would I be afraid of you?"

"You know why. I promise, you're safe with me ... and safe
from
me. All right?"

Looking at the ground, she whispered, "An' that's supposed to make everything all right, is it? But what if I dinna want to be safe from you, Nicodimus?"

When he didn't answer, she brought her head up, met his eyes. "I dinna, you know. Not at all."

"Nonetheless, you shall be." He got to his feet, and it

was his turn to busy himself. He checked the smoldering ash which was all that remained of the fire, making sure no spark had spread. It occurred to her that Nicodimus might be as nervous as she had been. As shocked and shaken by the flare of awareness between them, as well.

But no. Nicodimus would not be shocked nor shaken by anything.

"Walk with me," she asked Softly, deciding to go easier on him, just in case. Perhaps he only needed time to adjust to the idea that he loved her and desired her and would until the end of time. "Tell me of our wedding day. What will it be like?"

He finished what he'd been doing and came to stand beside her, looking relieved. "It will be everything you wish for, Arianna. You need only tell me what you want. The chapel will be decked in wreaths and buds, and the—"

"Chapel? But Nicodimus, I canna marry you in a chapel."

"But—"

"I'm not a Christian. I'm a Witch, and proud to be one."

He took her hand. "You mustn't speak it aloud that way, Arianna. It is unwise, you know that now."

"There is no one to hear me but you, an' I trust you with my life. Nay, I wish to speak our vows beneath the blazing fiery sun, our bare feet caressing Mother Earth's soft greenery and the air kissin' our faces, and the sea as our altar."

Nicodimus lowered his head. ' 'The marriage needs to be recognized by the clan, and by the Church, Arianna. Such a one as that would not be."

"Then ... canna we have both? One for the benefit of the Church and the clan, and another just for the two of us?"

He stared down at her. "We only need the one. The legal one, Arianna. For that's all there will be, that and friendship. No binding of two souls together as one, as you no doubt have in mind."

Closing her eyes to the disappointment, she sighed deeply. "Then 'twill nay feel like a marriage at all."

"Nor is it meant to. Only to look like one."

Her hand fluttered to her chest, very briefly. She fisted it and lowered it to her side again, an act of will. "Perhaps we should speak of something else."

"Perhaps," he said.

Nodding, she lifted her chin, staring straight ahead as they moved, side by side, along the path. "Tell me about Nidaba."

Nicodimus seemed surprised by the question, for it took him a moment to answer. "What do you wish to know?"

"How long have you known her?" She looked at him.

"I... it seems like forever. Surely for most of my life."

A vague answer. She wondered why. "Where did you meet?"

Searching her face, he tilted his head. "You're a curious little cat, aren't you?"

"Do I not have a right to be curious about the other woman in my husband's life?"

He shrugged, perhaps conceding the point. " Tis a tale you may well enjoy, little one. The first time I met Nidaba ... no. I will tell you about the second time. It was—"

"Why?"

He broke off, glancing down at her. "Like you, Arianna, I have some things in my past that are ... too painful to talk about. Do you understand?"

She searched his eyes, saw the old wounds there, and nodded. "Aye. I ken it all too well. Go on, then, an' tell me the tale."

"I was traveling alone through the arid lands far to the east, when I was set upon by a group of desert bandits. Twenty of them, mounted on camels, surrounded me, swords drawn, demanding my horse, my gold, and my food and water. It was a three day journey to help, and that on horseback. On foot I'd have had no chance."

Arianna had stopped walking and stood staring at him, her eyes wide as she listened. "What did you do?"

"Drew my sword and prepared to fight. Actually, they began coming at me, long curving blades of their swords flashing with such skill I could barely follow them with my

eyes, much less dodge the blows. And then there was this ... this sound."

"Sound?"

"Yes. A cry, high-pitched and keening, rather like the shriek of an eagle before it swoops down upon its prey. The attackers whirled, and I turned to look as well. Pounding down upon us was a figure swathed in white robes to the point where only the eyes were visible. Each hand wielded a deadly blade, and they swung like windmills overhead as the white stallion thundered with guidance from neither hand nor rein. The bandits scattered. She didn't even have to kill any of them. They vanished like a distant mirage, and she sheathed her swords by crossing them in front of her and driving the left into the right sheath, and the right into the left. She was amazing to behold."

"She?" Arianna whispered. "Nidaba?"

"Yes. I didn't know it right away, of course. I blurted my thanks, but she only nodded and motioned for me to follow her. Only when we were safely inside her desert home, a veritable fortress, really, did she remove the headdress and reveal herself to me."

Arianna blinked. "She's ... she's a very beautiful woman, I think."

"I have always thought so, too."

"Did you ... did you and she ... ?"

He touched Arianna's hair. "Nidaba and I are friends, Arianna. Only friends."

Her heart soared ... but then began to sink a bit. Because she thought that if Nicodimus had been able to resist the allure
of
an
exotic beauty such as Nidaba, she was in
for more of a challenge than she realized. That Nidaba hadn't wanted him never occurred to her. No woman could fail to desire Nicodimus. Not ever. He was perfect in every way.

"You're very deep in thought about something," he observed. She started, unaware he'd been scrutinizing her face for several moments.

"Aye, I sup' I am." She shrugged. "It's occurred to me how very little I know about you, Nicodimus. You

know every detail of my life, no doubt. But of your past, of your history, I know nothing."

His eyes became shuttered, and when her gaze searched them, he looked away. "You will," he said. "In time, I'll tell you all about myself."

"Would you care to begin now?"

He sent her a quick glance, then looked away. "Here, your mother is already awaiting us. Worried for your well-being, no doubt." He waved toward the distant figure, and Arianna saw her mother standing outside the cottage, waving back.

"She knows I'm perfectly safe with you," Arianna said with a sigh. "As your secrets seem to be, as well."

"You needn't be worrying about my secrets, little cat. Tis our wedding you ought be thinking of, planning for."

"Oh, I am," she said softly. "Believe me, Nicodimus, I am planning all the while."

His smile was warm, genuine, but there was a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "Good."

Oh, but he wouldn't think it so good when she finished. Or perhaps he would, but not right away. She would fashion the most beautiful gown any woman had ever worn. She'd bathe herself in flower petals and smell like heaven to him. Her hair would gleam like gold. When Nicodimus bent to her lips, as he must—aye, he
must
—she would kiss him as he'd never been kissed before.

How she would manage that, she wasn't certain. She had never
been
kissed by a man before. But perhaps ... someone could tell her how to best go about it.

If only The Crones ...

Lowering her head, she sighed her regrets. Her teachers were gone. She would have to fumble through this as best she could. But come her wedding night, she intended to lie with her husband. In his bed, in his arms, whether he liked it or not. And she would, or her name was not Arianna Sinclair.

I watched Arianna change during the next few days, and the change at once relieved and troubled me. The pain that had for so long shadowed her eyes began to fade. The ghosts that haunted her, seemed to have been chased into a dark corner—for the moment, at least. She no longer spent hours each day sitting alone in the cemetery, and even the agony of The Crones' final fate seemed to be easing.

I actually heard her laugh one day, as she and her mother walked arm in arm along the heather-covered moor beyond the keep. Such a rare sound, and so beautiful, that it startled me into stillness. I found myself edging nearer, straining to hear it again, curious as to what had caused it.

"They have repaired the rift between them, have they not?"

I turned abruptly, unaware of Nidaba's silent approach. She moved like a cat and stood beside me now, observing the mother and daughter as I did.

"I believe," I replied, "that they are even closer than before the death of Arianna's sister."

"Good. The girl will not cling quite so tightly to you then."

I frowned, drawing my gaze away from Arianna to focus

on Nidaba. Her gaze held no contempt as she watched Ar-ianna and her mother talking and laughing below. No dislike. It was only narrow and watchful.

"Why do you dislike her so much?" I asked.

Nidaba looked at me sharply. "Does it seem to you that I dislike her? I do not. The girl has spirit."

"Then...?"

"It is the two of you together I do not like, Nic. You're not going to be good for her. Nor she for you. You'll destroy each other before you finish this ruse."

I shook my head at her. "I only want to protect her—"

"By keeping the truth from her? The truth of what you are, Nicodimus? Of what
she
is?" Nidaba's eyes again narrowed, falling on my young bride once more. "She ought to know, to have time to prepare."

"There is a long time before she will need to prepare for such as that," I told her.

"Only the Gods could know for sure. And you are not a God, my friend."

Her words troubled me. For I had seldom known Nidaba to be wrong about anything.

"Look at her," she went on. "You know full well that her laughter is not entirely due to her newfound closeness with her family, Nic. That kind of joy comes from only one place in a woman's heart. The girl is in love with you, and dreaming of things you have told her will never be. You cannot both come out of this unscathed."

My lips tightened. "I do not wish to hurt her."

Perhaps, I thought, I should tell Arianna again how it was to be with us. But two things kept me from doing that. First, the knowledge that Arianna Sinclair would believe exactly what she wanted to believe no matter what I might say to the contrary. And second, the simple fact that she was so incredibly beautiful when she was happy. Her smile, the sparkle in her eyes, the spring in her step, the confident tilt of her head. I loved seeing her this way. I did not want to be the one to put the shadows back into my lady's eyes.

She and Mara came 'round the bend in the steep path and saw us standing near the outermost wall. Arianna's

smile died slowly as she met my eyes, searching them.

"Nicodimus, whatever is wrong? You look troubled."

I was troubled. For just an instant the thought had occurred to me that perhaps I
could
learn to love the girl. Could be her husband in the way she dreamed I would be.

And yet, I could not. I was a hunted man. More Dark Ones sought my heart than that of any other immortal, so far as I knew. Nidaba was older and more powerful, yes, but she'd lived so discreetly that few knew of her existence. My heart was the prize many Dark Witches sought. Two in particular, who had made it the mission of their endless lives to put an end to mine. Arianna would be in constant danger at my side.

Beyond that, I knew I was incapable of loving her. My heart was far too wounded to produce the tender emotion in any real quantity. Ironic, I thought, that a heart so damaged could be so prized by so many.

Frowning slightly, Arianna came closer, her small hands touching my cheeks. ' 'My love, you are pale. Are you taking ill?"

My stomach clenched tight as the endearment fell from her lips. I glanced sideways, but Nidaba only stood in silence. "Arianna, you mustn't call me that," I said at last.

"And just why not? 'Tis what you are, and our weddin' day is on the morrow. Aye, sure and you might as well get used to it."

I closed my eyes. Such a stubborn girl. A smile tugged at my lips. "Aye, sure and I might as well," I said softly, imitating her beautiful speech.

"Is it teasin' me you like then?" she asked, stepping back a bit, hands going to her hips, eyes flashing with mischief.

There was, I realized, very little about Arianna that I
disliked.
"I wasn't teasing, little cat. How goes the sewing, hmm?'' I fell into step beside her, with her mother on the other side of her, and Nidaba walking along at my other side. We moved beside the blackberry briars that lined this side of the keep's outer wall. They blossomed just now, and their scents were heady and sweet.

Arianna shot Nidaba a sidelong glance, and smiled. "Ni-daba has gifted me with the most wondrous material, and the gown is perfect, as you will soon enough see."

Any gown would be perfect if she were wearing it, I thought. We circled the keep, moving past the cobbled well, toward the gates. I paused, as a tiny shiver of warning skittered over my nape. What... ?

"I'll wear flowers in my hair," Arianna was saying. "And there will be such revelry afterward! Joseph has been more than generous, an' he has the cooks hard at work already...."

As she went on, I glanced up, caught Nidaba's eye. She nodded just once, almost imperceptibly.

She felt it, too, then. The truly ancient among us could sense when another was nearby. And I sensed it now. Lifting my head, I scanned the horizon. But saw no one. Nothing.

"There will be barrels an' barrels of heather ale," Arianna was saying, "An' roast boar, venison, beef, an' mutton. Pastries to savor. Wine will flow, and fruits spill over. 'Twill be so ... so ..." She was looking more and more curiously from me, to Nidaba, and back again. "What
is
wrong with you two? You look as if you've seen a ghost!"

Snapping out of my state, I gripped Arianna's elbow in my hand. "Come, let's get you inside," I said, leading her and her mother through the gates, and across the courtyard toward the keep. I looked about as we moved among the men there, checking each face, but seeing only clansmen.

"But I dinna understand," Arianna protested. "What is it?"

"Do you not feel the rain coming, Arianna?" Nidaba asked, her tone unconvincing. "The air grows damp."

"You'd not wish to take a chill on the day before your wedding, now would you, little cat?" I asked her.

"You both be addled! 'Tis lovely outside!"

"Now, daughter, dinna argue with your bridegroom," her mother chided, but she, too, looked unconvinced.

I simply kept moving until Arianna and her mother were safely inside the keep. It was happening; the one thing I

feared above all else. One of the Dark Ones had finally found me here—traced me to my only haven. Gods forgive me if I had brought disaster upon this peaceful village. Upon my friends. Upon my woman.

My woman.

Gods, why had I allowed myself to think of her that way?

When we entered the keep, Arianna turned to face me, her eyes no longer filled with mischief or joy, but that deep wisdom she was too young to possess. "A word, Nicodi-mus, in private."

Eager to be away, I nodded all the same, and sent a glance to Nidaba. She quickly excused herself, and Mara muttered something and vanished toward the kitchens.

"All right then," Arianna said softly. She came close to me, gripped my hand in both of hers. ' 'I ken something is wrong. An' I can plainly see you're hidin' it. Now, tell me what it is."

Not for anything would I have spoiled the day to come for her with worries such as those plaguing me now. Gently, I stroked her hair with my free hand, as if I could soothe her the way I could soothe Black when he grew agitated or afraid. "Nothing is wrong," I told her. "Truly."

Tilting her head to one side, she searched my face with her velvety eyes. "Why are you lyin' to me, Nicodimus?"

Drawing a deep breath, sighing, I lowered my head. ' 'All right. It's ... sometimes, Arianna, I get... feelings. This, I know you understand."

Her eyes widening with interest, she nodded. ' 'Aye, I do. The Crones taught me to trust those feelings, never to doubt them."

"And good advice it was," I told her. "Out on the path just now, I had the feeling that... that we were being watched."

Arianna frowned, nodding sagely. "Aye, I've had the same feelin' once or twice today, myself." She looked up into my eyes, worry clouding hers. "Who do you suppose it could be?"

She was too young to have such a sense of other im-

mortals, I thought. But then again, she always knew when I was near, didn't she? Amazing.

"I do not know," I said, and it was only partially a lie. True, I didn't know
who,
but I damned well knew
what
sort of creature was watching us. "But I intend to find out.''

Her eyes were narrow upon me. "You think this person ... could be a danger to us?"

She saw too much. Read me far too well for me to lie to her easily. "I don't know. Perhaps. I cannot tell you because I'm not even fully certain myself. I am going to ask you trust me in this matter."

Nodding, she lifted her head again. "I do trust you, Ni-codimus."

"Then please, Arianna, stay here tonight. Your family as well."

Blinking in surprise, she nodded. "Aye, Nicodimus. All you had to do was tell me the truth. If you fear there is danger, then I believe you. I will never doubt your word ... so long as you speak the truth."

I very nearly smiled at that. Would have, had I not been nearly sick with worry. "Will you always know, Arianna, when I am not speaking the truth?"

"Only when you are as obvious as you were this time," she said. She smiled at me, and I knew I was forgiven.

"I shall go and fetch my father," she said softly, closing one hand around mine and squeezing. "We'll pack up our things for the wedding tomorrow, and—"

"No, Arianna. Let me go for him. It will be for the best." I started to tug free of her grip.

She held me fast. "You truly do sense danger, dinna you, love?" She searched my face. "Is there danger to you waiting outside these walls as well then?"

I looked her squarely in the eyes. "No, Arianna. I will be perfectly safe." Gently I tugged my hand free, and headed for the door, even as her eyes narrowed on me. And I think she knew, once again, that I had not been honest with her.

* * *

Gnawing at her lip and pacing the great hall did nothing to alleviate Arianna's worry, which seemed to intensify the moment the doors closed on Nicodimus's strong back. She recalled again the wisdom of The Crones.
Never mistrust your feelings, lassie. They be the core of your womanhood. The voice of your heart.

Nicodimus was in danger.

Arianna stood a bit straighter, feeling a jolt of protec-tiveness surge through her so powerfully she felt as if she grew inches taller. Her chin thrust outward, she headed for the doors, pausing only once on the way, just long enough to glance behind her. But Nidaba was nowhere in sight, nor was her mother, nor any of the others, save a handful of servants spreading fresh rushes over the floor. She was more grateful than anyone would ever know for the privacy.

She ran a hand over her hip, and felt the reassuring lump there, where her dagger was strapped. Then she drew her shawl closer, and slipped away. Nicodimus was her man. She would be damned if she would stand by and let any harm come to him.

She crept, following on foot, ducking behind trees and bushes and any cover to be had, for she knew too well that Nicodimus would be furious if he saw her.

He did exactly as he had said he would. Rode to her home, fetched her father, and settling both Edwyn and the satchel he'd rapidly packed atop Black, Nicodimus led the stallion back to the keep gates. All this she witnessed from a spot high on the hilltop between the keep itself and the village proper, just at the edge of the woods, hidden amidst the trees.

But her husband-to-be did not go into the keep with his future father-in-law. Instead, he saw Edwyn through the gates, then remounted his noble Black and turned. He came toward Arianna, riding slowly, eyes narrow and scanning the horizon, peering into every clump of shrubbery in search of the watcher.

Arianna cringed backward farther, unable to believe she could hide from so piercing a gaze. But even as he rode

slowly nearer, she forgot to fear discovery. For another shape rose up behind him. Another man, mounted upon a horse as pale as death.

Her eyes widening, she stepped out of her hiding place, and shouted a warning. But instead of heeding her, Nicod-imus continued toward her, obviously surprised and displeased to see her there, and unaware of the danger coming upon him from behind. The white horse began to run, its rider a fearsome brute of a man, all swathed in a black cloak that covered his colors, did he wear them. His face was hidden behind a beaked black helm that completely covered his head. The reddish-brown tail of some unfortunate animal flew from the spiked top of the helm, like a banner. He thundered on, swinging a spiked mace in deadly circles. Arianna lunged forward, drawing her blade, even knowing she could never reach the man before he reached Nicodimus.

The mace flew directly at Nicodimus's head. But nothing happened. Eyes widening in shock, biting her knuckles to silence the cry that leapt to her lips, Arianna shook her head in confusion. Nicodimus had dropped low, over the side of his mount, just as the weapon came at him. Gods, he must have known all along.

Leaning low, he continued riding toward her, and when he swooped down upon her, he snatched her right off her feet, and settled her safely in front of him. One arm held her tightly to his chest, and he whirled his mount around, even as the other man thundered closer. Nicodimus continued to cradle her protectively with one arm as with his other hand he jerked a leather covered shield from the saddle, holding it before her.