Midnight Warrior (36 page)

He followed her. “Why?”

“The tapestries.” She stared up at the faded tapestries that still occupied all four walls. Scenes of battle, scenes of jousting, one scene of a knight kneeling before a bearded ruler. “No gentle scenes of court life, no troubadours, no picking of the harvests. This is a warrior’s chamber.”

“Then I’m surprised you like it so much.” He took
the torch from her and wandered around the chamber, looking at the tapestries. “Why?”

“Because this is what they were and what they gave up for peace. That’s the glory of this chamber. Can’t you see them here, gathered about a table, talking, laughing …”

“Can you?”

“Yes. Yes, I can.” She walked over to stand beside him. “I can see it all.”

“So can I,” he murmured, studying the tapestry of Hevald knighting a young armored squire. “Extraordinary.”

“I thought you would.” She touched his arm. “It’s not like the other rooms that are full of sadness. This one isn’t sad at all.”

“Why are the other rooms sad? What happened here?”

“They left him,” she said simply. “He had put down his sword but his officers weren’t ready. After the castle was built there was no challenge for them. They were bored without constant warfare and grew restless here on Gwynthal. One by one they drifted away until at last there was only Hevald and Bentar left. When they died the rest of the servants left the castle and moved to the village.”

“Except Bentar’s offspring.”

She nodded. “They didn’t want to leave the castle so they built a cottage not far away. I’ll show you the cottage tomorrow.” She took the torch from his hand, moved toward the fireplace across the room, knelt, and lit the wood. The flames sprang bright and warm, casting a glow over the large room. “But it never meant … this is a special place. I wanted to share it with you.”

“I see you did. This room has been freshly swept and you must have laid that fire this afternoon.”

Of course he would notice those details. There was
not a good deal Gage did not notice. “I didn’t have time to do very much.” She made a face as she glanced at the broken remains of the oak council table and chairs she had pushed to the corner of the room. “I suppose I should have gotten rid of those years ago, but it’s part of the room, part of what I feel when I come here.” She turned to look at him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to—” She stopped, inhaling sharply.

The firelight had thrown Gage’s giant shadow on the tapestry, transposing it directly over the figure of Hevald as he stood knighting the young squire. For an instant it appeared that Hevald had come to life, that the two were joined.

“What’s wrong?” Gage asked, moving toward her.

She watched the shadow move out of the tapestry and smiled. “Nothing. A trick of the firelight.”

Gage and Hevald, she thought. Of course. She marveled she had not realized it before.

Gage stopped before her and stared down at her. “I’m not sure I like this Hevald.”

“Why not?”

“Because you like him too much.”

She laughed with genuine amusement. “It’s true. I have a great and special feeling for him but, given time, I believe you’ll understand. He was much like you.”

Gage shook his head. “I cannot see myself building a fortress to peace. I’d probably be like Hevald’s knights and become bored and wander away.” He glanced over his shoulder at the tapestry as he placed the torch in the holder beside the fireplace. “I’d wager he became bored himself. If he hadn’t been so stubborn, I’ve no doubt he would have abandoned this castle and left Gwynthal.”

“He would not have gone back to war. He was weary and sickened by it all.”

“No.” He stared thoughtfully at Hevald’s face in the tapestry. “But life offers adventures to a man other than chopping off heads.”

She smiled. “Perhaps he should have become a prince of merchants.”

“Possibly.” His glance shifted back to her and he smiled in return. “But that takes a skill and patience I’m not sure Hevald possessed. There aren’t many men as extraordinary as myself.”

Her smile became a chuckle. “You sound like Malik.”

His smile faded. “No, Malik has considerably more patience than I do.” He knelt beside her and gazed intently into her eyes. “Why did you wish to share this with me, Brynn?”

The moment had come. She had not thought she would feel this shy and uncertain. She moistened her lips. “It’s a special place.”

“Yes.” He waited.

“I want you to know—I cannot tell you I don’t believe what I saw—” She reached out and nervously grasped his hands. “But if it did happen—if you killed Delmas. I wish to—” She closed her eyes. “I accept it.”

He went still. “What do you accept?”

“I accept that if I have to live with guilt for the rest of my life, I will do so.” She leaned forward, laid her head on his chest, and whispered, “For I cannot live without you.”

“Thank God.” His hands cradled her nape and he rocked her back and forth. “I thought it would never come.”

“And I will pray God frees you of all guilt. It was my fault that it happened at all. You were innocent of—”

“Hush. I’ve not been innocent since the day I went with Hardraada on my first raid.” He brushed his lips on her temple. “But it would be much easier for you if you’d trust me in this.”

“I’d like you to— Will you—” She turned her lips so that they pressed the strong cord of his neck. “I want
to belong to you tonight. Here. In this place. Please do not refuse me.”

He pushed her away from him and looked down into her face. His voice was uneven. “I don’t think I’m capable of it.”

She stood up. “Undress.” She moved to the shadows by the hearth and retrieved the blanket she had put in readiness. She spread it before the fire and then pulled her gown over her head and tossed it aside.

She turned to look at him.

Naked, powerful, ready. She started to tremble as he walked toward her.

It was like watching a storm approaching, knowing it could ravage you, destroy you, and yet fill you with exhilaration and excitement. She took an eager step forward, then another.

He made a low exclamation and lifted her, thrust into her in that savage, animal way he had taken her that first day.

She cried out, her head falling back as she was filled with him.

He froze, his chest lifting and falling with his labored breathing. Holding her close, joined to him. He slowly lowered his head and his lips covered hers.

Golden tenderness. Scarlet savagery. Only Gage could ever combine the two.

He lifted his head and his eyes were shining wetly. “I—have true—I—love—oh, what the devil!” He sank to his knees on the blanket, thrusting wildly, deeply.

She lay on the floor, looking up at him. His hair was a black-red tangle as it fell about his shoulders. His nostrils flared as he moved deep and strong within her.

She lunged upward, trying to take more of him. “Gage …”

Muted tapestries behind him whispering their dreams of faded glory. Firelight and flame. Hevald over her, in her, his shadow dominating her, pleasuring her.
No, not Hevald this time. Gage, alive, moving, loving. One. Same. Joined.

Forever.

“I would like you to say it, please.” Brynn sat up and leaned on one elbow, looking down at him. “Just once.”

“Say what?”

“All of it. Not just a broken remnant.”

Gage smiled sheepishly. “Oh, very well. Though it’s not easy for me.” He kissed the creamy swell next to her nipple. “You have magnificent breasts. I adore them.”

“I am not my breasts. I’m Brynn of Falkhaar.”

“I beg to disagree. You are these magnificent breasts and this lovely body.” His hand brushed the curls surrounding her womanhood. “And this place of pleasure.” He pulled her down on top of him and rocked her back and forth. “How I do love that place of pleasure.”

“You may not enter there again unless I hear other words from you.”

“Oh, you want to hear that you are my lady and my wife? That I hold you in honor and that I respect your mind and heart as well as your body?” His voice was muffled in her hair. “It is a solemn declaration. I don’t know if you deserve it after all you’ve made me undergo.”

“I deserve it.”

He chuckled. “So you do.” His laughter faded and he said gruffly, “I … love you, Brynn of Falkhaar.”

She felt tears sting her eyes and her arms tightened about him. “That did not seem too difficult.”

“More than you know.” He rolled her over onto her back and looked down at her. “And now I need words from you. When do we wed?”

She stiffened. “We will talk of that later.”

“Now.”

“I said I didn’t wish to—” She looked up at him urgently. “Please. Don’t spoil this night.”

He muttered a nearly inaudible curse. “You cannot live without me but you will not wed me? What madness is this?”

She didn’t answer.

“This doesn’t please me,” he said with precision. “You bring me here. You use me. You make me—”

“I didn’t use you. I just wanted—why won’t you let it alone? Why must you ask more?”

“Because I have the deplorable fault of wanting things clear instead of muddied.” He paused, taking a moment to study her face. “You’ve been behaving most peculiarly all day. You watch me like a vulture about to pounce and then you persuade me to couple with you.”

“You needed little persuasion.”

“True. I wanted to believe all was well and that I could take what I wanted. But all is not well, is it?”

“We’ll talk after you have the treasure.” Her jaw set with determination. “I don’t want to think of—”

“Wedding? Children?” He paused. “Leaving Gwynthal?”

Leaving Gwynthal. She had not even let herself consider that possible ramification if she wed Gage. She had not even considered marriage. She had wanted only to join with him, give to him, take from him. She had wanted to snatch a perfect moment before—

The chill returned as she recalled the dream. “No!” She pulled him down and held him close. “Don’t talk,” she murmured desperately. “Please, don’t talk. Not yet. Not now.”

He was stiff and resisting and then, suddenly he relaxed and held her close. “Very well. Not now. I suppose I’ve won enough for one night.” He added grimly, “But soon. By God, very, very soon, Brynn.”

The cottage was in even worse disrepair than the castle. A tree had fallen on the thatched roof, leaving a large hole, and her mother’s herb garden was a only a tangle of vines and weeds.

“Well, we won’t spend the night here,” Gage said dryly as he stood in the doorway and looked up at the blue sky clearly visible through the hole. “How close are we to this treasure cave?”

“Not far. Perhaps a few hours. But I’ll need daylight to find it.”

Malik gazed at the sun appraisingly. “Well, we don’t have more than an hour before sunset. We’d best camp and set out in the morning.” He turned his horse. “Is there a brook nearby, Brynn?”

“About a mile into the forest.” A night in the forest, a night of danger. She turned back to the cottage and said quickly, “Why don’t we stay here? I’m weary, aren’t you? It wouldn’t take long to sweep away the debris. We did it at the castle. At least it would afford us a little shelter.”

“There’s a very large tree in your cottage.” Adwen made a face. “And I don’t think I want to find out what’s nesting in those branches.” She kicked her mare into a trot and guided her back to the trail. She called over her shoulder, “I don’t fear cockroaches, but I’m sure I heard something slither.”

“It’s only a cottage, Brynn,” Gage said. “Your mother’s no longer here. She chose to leave this place. It’s not good for you to stay.”

He thought the reason she didn’t want to leave was that she wanted to cling to memories of her mother and feared it would bring sadness. She did feel sad, but it was a sweet sadness. She glanced at the herb garden where she had spent so many happy mornings trailing behind her mother. She felt no lingering spirits here as she had at the castle. Her mother had been taken cruelly, but her purpose in life had been fulfilled. She had been
given a gift and had used it selflessly and unstintingly. She whispered, “You’re right, she’s not here.”

He took her arm and led her toward her horse. Waves of support and comfort flowed gently over her as he lifted her to the saddle. “I know you’re tired. We’ll stop soon. You said this brook was only a mile?”

She was suddenly jerked back to the peril that had caused her to protest leaving the cottage. She had an idea this mile was going to seem an eternity. “Yes.” There was no use protesting or trying to change their minds. She could only wait and watch and try to make sure no harm came to him. “You go on ahead. I’ll follow you.”

His brows rose in surprise. “The trail is wide enough for two.”

But she wouldn’t be able to watch him as closely if he were beside her. “I want to be by myself.”

He shrugged and kicked his horse into a trot. “Keep close.”

“I will.” She had no intention of falling far behind. She had to be near enough to intercede in case of attack. “I’ll keep very close.”

Someone was watching.

They had gone only a quarter mile into the forest when Brynn felt a chill run through her. Her gaze frantically searched the thick underbrush on either side of the trail. Nothing. No sign of anyone.

But how would she know if there were a thousand enemies lurking behind that veil of heavy shrubbery?

Her hand tightened on the reins. Perhaps it was her imagination. Perhaps her fears were playing tricks on her.

God in heaven, it was not imagination. Someone was there. She was as certain of that presence as of Gage ahead of her on the trail.

Her palms were clammy and she was shaking. Why
didn’t Gage sense the danger as she did? Where were his warrior’s instincts? He seemed totally unaware. Perhaps that was how it happened. A moment of distraction and then a dagger thrust from out of—

“Gage!”

He glanced inquiringly over his shoulder.

What could she say to a man who believed only what he saw? I had a death dream? I have a feeling that there is danger here? He would never believe her.

“Come on!” She kicked the mare into a gallop that brought her even with Gage. “I’m weary of this pace,” she said, then her hand came sharply down on his stallion’s hind quarters.