Midnight Warrior (35 page)

The same dream.

No, not quite the same. Before she had seen only Gage and the dagger. This time she had seen the place. Trees. Grass. Leaves lying on the ground.

Blood on the leaves.

She shuddered and felt Gage’s arms tighten about her.

She deliberately relaxed again. A nightmare. It didn’t have to be true.

But this was only the second death dream she had had more than once.

Kythe. The flames
.

There were grass and trees all around them, she realized in sudden panic. It could happen there, that night.

No, it had been daylight in the dream. She still had time. She could keep it from happening.

She must keep it from coming true. She would watch and guard and keep him from all harm. She would not let him be taken from her. She would not let the dragons have him.

“All right?” Gage murmured as if sensing her inner turmoil.

“Shh, everything is fine.” Her arms tightened about him with fierce maternal strength. “I promise you, all will be well.”

“May I ask why you’ve been watching me as if you think I’m going to cut off your head and serve it to Malik for his supper?” Gage asked impatiently.

“Please,” Malik protested. “I’ve been called a heathen but never a human-flesh eater.”

Gage ignored him, his gaze fixed on Brynn. “Well?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Brynn said haltingly. “I was not aware of staring at you. I think you must be imagining it.”

“I wasn’t imagining it. Since you woke this morning you’ve been—”

“Look!” With relief at the distraction, Brynn pointed at the towers that had suddenly come into view. “There’s the castle! Is it not beautiful?”

Adwen’s eyes widened. “It’s truly wondrous. I’ve never seen such a fine castle.”

Brynn turned to Gage. “Do you have any in Normandy so grand?”

“I’ve never seen one this large,” Gage admitted. “My own Bellerieve looks tiny in comparison and even William’s castle is smaller.”

“Hevald needed a large castle. Once he arrived
here he made himself king and his captains and lieutenants knights.” She kicked her mare, sending the horse cantering. “Come along, there’s a fine moat to see. It’s like—” She abruptly reined in as she realized her eagerness had almost played her false. She had been going to ride ahead and she must not let Gage out of her sight. She turned her horse and waited for them to catch up. “Hurry. You’re very slow. Don’t you want to see it?”

Gage was coolly speculative. “Why did you stop?”

“Why not? I’ve been here many times before. I grew up playing in the grand hall and the other chambers. After Selbar became my friend we played in the courtyard all the time. It’s you who have never seen it.” She turned to Adwen. “We can sleep under a roof tonight.”

“Maybe.” Gage clearly remained doubtful. “Your castle is nearly in ruins.”

“It is not,” she defended. “It’s still as strong as ever. I didn’t say it was in good repair.”

“What happened here? Why isn’t the castle occupied?”

“They’re all gone.” She rode over the drawbridge and through the gates. She had forgotten how desolate a sight was the deserted castle until she saw it through their eyes. Grass sprouted between the stones of the courtyard, and the second step leading to the front entrance was broken. Yet the decay did not bother her as much as the silence. “I told you it was a sad place.”

“I think we’d better leave here and make camp in the forest,” Gage said. “There’s no telling what you might find in those halls.”

Blood running into the veins of the green leaves on the ground
.

“No!” Brynn slipped quickly from the mare’s back. “I want to spend the night here at the castle. There’s nothing harmful here.”

Nothing as harmful as what might await them in the forest.

She turned to Adwen. “There’s a covered well across the courtyard and the chimneys drew well at the time I left. We might even have baths.”

“Baths,” Adwen murmured wistfully.

“Surely it would do no harm to use the castle,” Malik said to Gage. “We can triumph over a few rats and cockroaches.”

Gage looked up at the dark windows of the towers. “If it’s only cockroaches …” he murmured. “I have a strange feeling that—” He shrugged. “Foolishness. We will stay if it pleases you,” he told Brynn.

“It pleases me,” she said firmly.

“Good.” Malik dismounted and lifted Adwen down from her horse. “Let’s go find that well and make sure it’s still free of pollution.”

Brynn watched them stroll across the courtyard before turning back to Gage.

He was standing with head lifted as if he were listening to something, his expression curiously intent while he stared at the castle.

“They’re here, aren’t they?” she asked softly.

He looked at her. “Who?”

“Hevald and his bride and all his brave knights. I’ve always felt them here.”

“Nonsense.”

She shook her head. “Sometimes the spirits remain for one reason or another. That’s why this is a sad place. It’s not good to cling to earth instead of heaven.” She smiled. “I thought you’d be able to feel them.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a warrior, like Hevald. I can see you striding through these halls in your armor.…” She could imagine it clearly, his dark hair glowing red as he passed the tall arched windows on his way to the hall to join Hevald and the other knights. She could almost
hear the clink of armor.… “There’s nothing to fear. I think you’ll feel at home here.”

“And I think you’re a little mad, Brynn of Falkhaar.” But there was no mockery, only gentleness in his voice. He turned away and began to gather the horses’ reins. “Go inside and see if you can find us a place to sleep that’s not overrun by creatures. I’ll take these animals into the forest and stake them out where there’s plentiful grass.”

The forest!

“I’ll go with you,” she said quickly as she snatched the donkeys’ reins and followed him. “You may need help.”

“I need no help.”

She was already pulling the small donkeys toward the gates. “Of course you do. You cannot possibly tend to all these animals by yourself.”

To her relief, he didn’t argue but merely smiled teasingly. “Perhaps your spirits could give me aid.”

“I think they’re too absorbed in their own concerns to bother with ours.”

“How selfish of them.” He led the three horses across the drawbridge and into the forest. “And I was thinking your Hevald such a splendid fellow. You’d think he’d offer—what are you looking for?”

Brynn jerked her gaze from the surrounding shrubbery. “Why, grass for grazing. What else would I be looking for?”

Suspicion showed in his face. “That’s what I’m asking.”

She avoided his glance as she led the donkey to a grassy patch and tied him to a tree. “That should do splendidly. Can’t you hurry? I want to get back and see if Malik has found the well still usable.”

For an instant she thought he was going to pursue the matter, but then he turned away and started to unsaddle the horses. “What about wolves?”

“What?”

“Are the animals safe? You said there were wolves in this forest.”

“It was much farther north where I found Selbar.” Selbar. She felt a surge of warmth as she thought of the wolf. She would see him soon, perhaps even tomorrow. “Wolves don’t range far when game is plentiful in their own territory. I’ve never seen one close to the castle.”

“You think your wolf will still be alive?”

She had never considered anything else. “Of course, he was very young when I found him. He will be in his prime now.”

“I don’t imagine wolves often die of old age.” He finished tying the leads to the trees. “And you said you knew him for only a short time before you left Gwynthal. If he’s gone back to his pack, he may have forgotten you.”

“I haven’t forgotten him.”

“He’s only a beast, Brynn.”

“I know.” Yet he had been more than a beast to her. After she had healed him, he had been companion and playmate, a bulwark against the loneliness of being in the circle. “He won’t have forgotten me.”

“It could be dangerous to approach him.”

“He’ll come to me.”

“With pack in tow?”

“I don’t want to talk about Selbar. It will be fine.”

“We have to talk about him.” He turned to face her. “I won’t see you hurt again.”

“I told you, he won’t attack me.”

“But he may not remember you any more than that priest in the village did. Prepare yourself for it.”

“You don’t understand. Selbar will be different. He truly cared about me.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I’m right.” She had to be right about Selbar. In many ways he was Gwynthal to her—wild and beautiful
and part of her. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. She turned and started back toward the castle. “You’ll see.”

He fell into step with her and said grimly, “I most certainly will. For I have no intention of letting your first encounter with your wolf be without me.”

The water in the well was unpolluted, but they waited until they had swept and laid fires in the hall before they heated water for baths.

It was fully dark before they settled before the large fireplace to eat the bird Malik had brought down earlier in the day.

“This is truly a splendid castle,” Adwen said. “I wonder that some of the villagers didn’t come here to settle instead of staying along the coast.” She finished her piece of meat and reached for another. “It’s such a waste. You said that there is no member of Hevald’s family living?”

Brynn shook her head. “His wife bore no children.”

“How sad.” Adwen added with a touch of bitterness, “He must have been very disappointed.”

Brynn knew she was attributing to Hevald her own husband’s response. “Yes, he wanted an heir for all this, but it was said he never blamed his bride. He loved her with his whole heart.”

“Myth,” Adwen scoffed. “Men always find fault with the woman where their issue is concerned. I’m sure your noble Hevald was the same.”

“I don’t agree,” Malik said. “It’s not entirely unlikely a man would find a woman more important than her issue.”

Adwen met his gaze. “It’s easy to say that when the circumstance is not your own. You might feel differently when other men display their fine, strong sons and you have none.”

“I would not feel differently.”

They were not talking of Hevald’s barren wife, Brynn realized. The air seemed to vibrate with Adwen’s pain. Even if there came a time when Richard no longer stood between them, Adwen’s inability to bear a child might present an insurmountable problem to Malik’s suit.

“Easy to say,” Adwen repeated. She looked away from Malik and rose to her feet. “I’m weary. I think I’ll go to my blankets now.” She made a motion with her hand as Malik moved to accompany her. “No! Stay here.”

Malik ignored her. “But I must protect you from the cockroaches.”

“I can protect myself.” She strode across the room to her pallet.

“Of course you can.” Malik strolled after her. “Forgive me, it was only a ploy to save my pride. I am deathly afraid of cockroaches. I was hoping you would have the kindness to defend me.”

“You lie.” She lay down and pulled her blankets up around her. “You have no fear of anything on this earth.”

“Oh, but I do.” He settled himself on his pallet a few feet away from her. “Would you like me to tell you what I fear most?”

She quickly closed her eyes. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t want to know.”

“Someday I will have to tell you anyway. For it is a very great fear and one only you can lay to rest.” Malik stretched out before adding, “But for the time being I will let you address this smaller fear. Shall I give you my sword to vanquish the cockroaches? I fear my hand would shake too much.”

“Fool,” she said thickly.

“No?”

“No.” She turned her back on him.

Brynn watched them from across the hall. The two
pallets were a few feet apart, they were not touching, and yet she had the odd feeling there was an invisible cocoon about Malik and Adwen, binding them together. Perhaps their troubles were not as bad as she had feared.

“Have you eaten enough?” Gage asked.

“Yes.” Brynn wiped her lips and then her fingers. “I’ve had plenty. Are you done? There’s something I want to show you.”

His brows lifted as he rose lazily to his feet. “I hope it’s not one of your spirits. I’m in no mood to deal with them this night.”

Brynn stood up and moved toward the door of the hall. “I don’t promise you won’t feel their presence, but that’s not what I wish to show you.” She grabbed one of the torches they had lit and entered the dark hall. “It’s a chamber … I used to come here as a child.” She held the torch high as she climbed the stone steps and then traversed a long, dark hall. “It’s my favorite place in the castle. I want you to see it.” She wanted to share it with him. She had a frantic desire to share everything with him, to make sure he experienced everything that was hers to give before it was too late.

She would not think such gloomy thoughts. Nothing would happen to him. She would make sure no harm—

“Here it is.” She threw open the wide, brass-studded door and stepped inside. “I think it must have been a council chamber.”