Authors: Diana Bold
Halcyon Rising (16 page)
The sick feeling that had taken root in his stomach the moment he’d first seen the two of them together blossomed to full-fledged nausea. She’d looked at that heathen in a way she’d never looked at him, not in all the years he’d known her.
The urge to answer Lord Simon’s question, and damn them all, was nearly impossible to resist. But somehow he held his tongue.
Lord Simon stalked across the room, glaring down at Trevelan as though he were a piece of refuse. “Do not be a martyr. If she gave a damn about you, she would not have left you behind.”
Though Lord Simon’s words were undoubtedly true, Trevelan remained silent, even when the first of what would undoubtedly be countless blows rained down upon him.
And he vowed that if he somehow survived this night, he would find them himself. Once the council heard what Rhoswen had been up to, she’d find herself banished from her home, condemned to a life of poverty and despair on the Surface with her precious Sebastian.
* * *
Rhoswen and Sebastian traveled hard all day, not stopping to rest until night had fallen. Sebastian said he feared the horse would come to harm if they proceeded in the dark, but she sensed he would rather have continued. They stopped in a small clearing ringed by towering trees.
She couldn’t control the soft moan that slipped from her lips as Sebastian lowered her from the destrier’s tall back to the ground. Her legs buckled, and she grasped the saddle, biting her lip as she struggled to remain standing. Her entire body ached; the long ride had used muscles she hadn’t even known she possessed.
“Are you well?” Sebastian swung down beside her, peering into her face.
“I’m a little sore,” she admitted.
He gave her a half-smile, then gestured to a nearby stump, just visible by the dim light of the moon. “Sit down and rest for a bit. I will get a fire started and make us a pallet.”
She moved to do as he’d instructed, glancing around the looming forest with wary distrust. Who knew what sort of wild animals roamed these woods at night? Gratitude for Sebastian’s reassuring presence swept through her. She’d have been terrified to face the dark, unknown forest all alone.
Within moments, he had a merry fire burning and had spread several furs upon the cold, hard ground, creating a cozy nest. She knelt gratefully upon the pallet, accepting a cold meat pie and a flagon of pale ale with trembling fingers. She needed to eat in order to maintain her strength, but all she wanted was to curl up beneath the warm furs and sleep.
“You did well today.” Sebastian sank down beside her and stretched out his long legs. “Traveling by horseback for so many hours is taxing, especially if you are not used to it.”
She appreciated his attempt to make light of her weakness, but felt the need to own up to it. “There were moments when I thought I’d die if we had to go another mile, but there’s no faster way for us to reach the coast, and time is of the essence.”
“Eat your meal,” he urged. “When you are done, I will rub your sore muscles.”
She raised an eyebrow, a little of her exhaustion fading. “That sounds wonderful.”
He smiled, and then took a long drink from the flagon. “By the time I am finished, you will feel much better, I promise.”
Needing no more urging than that, she finished the horrid pie as quickly as possible, then stretched out upon her stomach in front of the fire. The night was chilly, but the fire and the heavy robe made it bearable.
Sebastian took another drink of wine, then slid his hands beneath the edge of her robe, unfastening her slippers. When his warm fingers squeezed the arch of her foot, she sighed in sheer bliss.
Gazing into the flickering flames, she gave herself up to Sebastian’s magical hands. He kneaded and caressed, working his way from her feet to her calves, soothing the aching muscles and leaving her pliant with desire.
“Mmm, that feels so nice. You truly are a sorcerer.”
“I am glad it helps. Shall I go higher?” His voice was low and husky, proving he was not unaffected by the sensual, intimate act. As he spoke, he pulled down her trousers and closed his hands over her thighs, kneading the abused muscles with gentle firmness.
She sighed and spread her legs a bit, hoping he would take the hint and touch her where she wanted it most. Instead he continued, easing the ache from her thighs, then moving to her sore bottom.
Pressing her face against the furs, she closed her eyes and arched into his touch, drawing her knees beneath her and lifting her hips, offering herself in wordless entreaty. His breath quickened, and he used his fingertips to delve into her teeming wetness, making her gasp with pleasure.
He continued to ready her, but she felt him move behind her, heard the rustle of fabric as he pushed her robe up over her hips, baring her to the chill breeze and his hot gaze.
She shivered a bit, but not from the cold. She couldn’t wait for him to take her, here beneath the dark sky with the gentle breeze and the crackling fire.
“Make love to me,” she whispered. “I want to feel you inside me.”
His strong, hair-roughened thighs pressed against her, and she felt the hot, blunt head of his cock, seeking entry. Then he was inside her, so full, so wonderfully huge and carnal.
“Don’t be gentle,” she begged. “Don’t hold back. I want all of you. Your body, your heart, your soul.”
Sebastian grasped Rhoswen’s slim hips, gritting his teeth as he plunged home, deeper than he had ever imagined she could take him, until he knew he must be brushing her very womb.
“You feel so good,” he whispered harshly, leaning forward and nipping the back of her long, slim neck with his teeth. “I love being inside you.”
She pressed back against him with a soft moan, and his control snapped. He came over her in a frenzy of lust, still unable to believe she was truly here, that she wanted everything he had to give.
Within moments she convulsed around him. Her sweet cry shattered the stillness of the forest, driving him to thrust even harder and faster, until he was nearly sobbing with the beauty of it.
He wanted their lovemaking to last forever, but his own release came far too quickly, whipping through him with incredible force, making his toes curl and his own cry drown out hers.
Collapsing next to her, he turned her toward him, covering her lips in a hot, hungry kiss. Words escaped him. He could not articulate everything she had come to mean to him, could not explain how much he dreaded the dawn and the necessary trip to wherever she came from.
He feared whatever tenderness she had felt when forced to depend upon him for her very life would disappear when she was safely home. How could he possibly compete when she was back among those of her own kind, who surely surpassed him in every possible way?
For endless moments they kissed beneath the stars, oblivious to anything but each other. After a long time she pulled back, smoothing the hair from his eyes with a trembling hand.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I loved it. Every moment of it.”
“Me, too.” With a soft sigh, he tucked her beneath the blankets, then slipped in beside her, pulling her tight against his chest. In this small, wooded grove, he felt like a king. The woman in his arms had gone a long way toward rebuilding everything he had lost in the desert, and he never wanted the night to end.
Chapter Thirteen
“Trevelan. Wake up, my friend. Please, please, wake up.”
The soft, tear-filled voice roused Trevelan from blessed unconsciousness, thrusting him back into the shattered shell of his body.
He reached blindly for something to hold on to, encountering a small, cool hand. The same hand that had tended him so tenderly during the last few days. Miranda’s visits had been the only point of brightness in this dark hell. They’d come to mean everything to him.
And she’d just called him friend.
He’d never thought to use that word in relation to anyone from the Surface, but it soothed him to hear it from her lips. Made him feel as though he wasn’t totally alone, after all.
“Miranda,” he whispered, his voice a hoarse, unrecognizable rasp. “Miranda. You came back.”
The moment the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake. Somehow he’d managed to hold his silence through all the torture Lord Simon had put him through, yet Miranda had loosened his tongue with nothing more than a few gentle words.
“You
can
talk.” A ragged sound, somewhere between laughter and tears, escaped her as she lifted his head into her lap, brushing the hair off his sweat-dampened forehead. “I always knew you could.”
can
talk.” A ragged sound, somewhere between laughter and tears, escaped her as she lifted his head into her lap, brushing the hair off his sweat-dampened forehead. “I always knew you could.”
A cough tore through him, and the resulting shaft of pain left him breathless for a long moment. Frustration built within him.
Now that the damage was done, he desperately wanted to talk to her. During all those lonely hours he’d rehearsed lengthy conversations with her, hating the bitter charade Sebastian and Rhoswen had forced upon him.
“You will be fine, lad,” she whispered. “Just breathe slowly. In and out.”
He concentrated on the sound of her voice, until some of the pain receded, and he could breathe again. “Sebastian told me I must pretend to be mute. He promised that if I did, he’d be able to arrange for Rhoswen and me to leave.” He shook his head in renewed grief and disbelief. “It seems they had a different plan, one that didn’t include me.”
Another fit of coughing wracked him, but after a few more minutes, he was able to continue. “Lord Simon came today to tell me they’d escaped. He nearly killed me in an attempt to make me talk.”
“I thought he
had
killed you.” She leaned down to press a gentle kiss upon his cheek. “The guards were gone, and you lay so still. As still as death.”
had
killed you.” She leaned down to press a gentle kiss upon his cheek. “The guards were gone, and you lay so still. As still as death.”
“The guards outside my door are gone?” He tried to look up at her, but his eyes were so swollen he could see nothing but the hazy halo of her vibrant hair.
“They probably thought there was no need to stand guard over someone who had been beaten unconscious. Or perhaps they were simply needed elsewhere, since so many of the knights rode out with Lord Simon.”
“They’re after Rhoswen and Sebastian.” He tried to push himself to a sitting position, but she held him firmly in place. “I have to get out of here before they come back.”
“Are you mad? You are not going anywhere. You are lucky to be alive.”
“If I’m still here when that beast returns, he’ll finish the job he started.” He squeezed her hand tight, trying to convey his desperation. “I don’t expect you to help me, Miranda. But you wouldn’t stand in my way, would you?”
“Even if you managed to get to your feet, which I highly doubt, where would you go? You are too weak to make it very far.”
Which didn’t exactly answer his question.
He had no idea how much of her loyalty lay with Lord Simon, or whether he could claim some of it for his own. But he had to put his faith in someone. Otherwise, he was doomed.
“I need only make it to Titania’s Tower.” This time he managed to free himself of her soft clutches and push himself to his feet. “Can you please just help me down the stairs?”
“Sir Sebastian’s tower?” She shook her head and slid one arm around his waist, bracing him when he began to sway dizzily. “What good would that do? The door is ensorcelled. You will never be able to get in.”
“I know the secret of the door,” he explained. “I can lock myself inside until I regain some of my strength, then escape through the hidden passageway below.”
“I have never heard of a hidden passageway,” she told him doubtfully, but she remained beside him, supporting him, as he moved painfully toward the door.
“It’s there,” he assured her, his breath hitching with each step. He gritted his teeth and welcomed the pain, because each step took him further from Lord Simon’s grasp. “If I can just make it across the bailey undetected.”
He’d spent most of his waking hours during the last few days staring out the narrow arrow slit above his pallet, imagining taking Rhoswen back from the bastard who’d stolen her. He knew the route and distance by heart.
“It is full dark. If we stay near the curtain wall, we might manage it. All the knights who did not leave with Lord Simon are manning the gates to keep the villagers out. I had to bribe one of them with a love potion and sneak in the postern gate to see you tonight.”
He let the sweetness of the fact that she cared enough about him to go to such trouble bolster him through the first few agonizing steps, but then the rest of her words sunk in.
“What are you talking about? Why are they locking out the villagers?”
“There is sickness in the village. Half a dozen have already died. I think Lord Simon fears the pestilence, but I have been with those who are sick all day, and I know it is not the plague. Otherwise, I would not have risked coming to see you. I believe it to be some sort of poisoning. Contamination of the well, perhaps? Would not be the first time.”
Perhaps the Black Death will come again. I hope so. I hope something wipes them out completely.
His own thoughtless words came back to haunt him. Had Rhoswen remembered them as well? Was that why she’d run? Did she think he’d done this?
They reached the first landing, and he sagged against the wall, trying to catch his breath and control the swamping dizziness.
God, how naïve he’d been just a few short days ago. His time at Hawkesmere had shown him the people were both better and worse than he’d ever imagined.
He lifted his hand and tenderly brushed Miranda’s cheek with his fingertips, glad he’d met her. She’d shown him that there was goodness to be found on the Surface, though it was far harder to find than the rampant greed and brutality. He squinted down at her, wishing he could see better, wishing he could better commit her lovely face to memory.
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