The Conquest

  "Mint, I think. I would not recommend it. It does not go with ale, but I daresay it tastes better than that mess you would have given me."

  Zared held the bag. "If you did not drink the potion, then what has inspired this… this newfound lust of yours?"

  At that Tearle did not know whether to laugh or yell at her. He did neither. He sat down on the edge of the bed and talked very slowly. "I do not know how you came to the conclusion that I have not been eaten alive with desire for you from the moment I first saw you. Why else would I have made myself your brother's lackey? Do you think that I enjoy slogging in mud up to my knees to carry lances to him? Did I remain with him because I enjoyed his company? Or yours? At the tournament, did you so much as say a kind word to me?"

  She sat up on the bed, oblivious to the way Tearle was looking at her. "But I thought you disliked me. I thought you wanted to… to…"

  "Get my hands on the Peregrine wealth?" He leaned toward her, his nose almost touching hers. "I have always had one objective: to get my hands on the body of the Peregrine daughter."

  Zared blinked at him. "Really? You do not think I look like a boy?"

  He looked down at her bare body, then back up at her face. "I am the only man who has known from the beginning that you were not a boy."

  Zared looked back down at the pouch. "But if you did not drink the potion, then why did you react so?" Her head came up. "And why have you not come to me on your own before now?"

  He had to control himself to keep from yelling. "Do you not realize that I have been courting you?"

  "Courting me?"

  "Aye, courting you. I realize, after having spent some time with your brother, that the Peregrine idea of courting consists of turning a woman over one's knee, but in other households going with a girl to a fair is a much more acceptable method of courtship."

  "But what of the annulment? What of the message to the king?"

  He gave a bit of a smile. "What message? What annulment?"

  "The one we—" She smiled back at him. "You did not send the message? I called you some awful names."

  "I felt that they were temporary. I hoped that if I could get you away from your brother, you might see that I was not the monster you had been told of." He picked up her hand and kissed it. "I have wanted you since I saw you struggling against my brother's men. And I have cared for you since you came back to see if I were dead, even though I was a Howard and you had been taught to hate me."

  She watched him as he began to kiss her fingertips. "I was afraid that if you bled to death, it would cause more harm to my family. I cared nothing for you."

  He looked back at her with hot eyes. "Perhaps I can change that. Perhaps I can make you care." He put her small hand on his side and then moved toward her. Zared lay back on the pillows. "I do not believe that you can. No Howard could make a Peregrine squeal in delight."

  He stopped kissing her ankle and looked up at her. "What do you know of squeals of delight?"

  "I have heard many of them from my brothers' women, and you cannot wring such cries from me." There was challenge and daring in her eyes and a bit of a smile about her lips.

  "Oh?" he said, accepting the challenge. "Let us see about that."

  He began to kiss her then, and since he was not burdened by having to talk he could give himself over to his lust for her body. He kissed her and fondled her until he thought he might go mad. When he entered her he expected her to cry out in pain, but she did not.

  "I liked that," she said later as Tearle was dozing in her arms. "Shall we do it again? Can it last longer this time?"

  Tearle lifted one eyebrow and looked at her. "Perhaps. In a moment."

  "Ah," Zared said. "I understand."

  Had another woman said such a thing Tearle would have thought she did understand, but given Zared's experience in life, he doubted if she understood anything. "What do you understand?"

  "That you are a weak and puny Howard, while I have the blood of falcons running through my veins. Do you think our children will be weak like you?"

  At that he caught her and pulled her down beside him. "I will see who will cry 'enough' before this night is through."

  Chapter Thirteen

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  Zared sat down gingerly on the chair that was pulled up. to the table. Her husband looked at her smugly and with such a superior look that she grimaced. But she was happy, very, very happy.

  Tearle smiled at her. "What say you we do today?"

  "Teach me to read," she said before she thought, and he smiled more broadly.

  What followed for Zared were two weeks of heaven on earth. She seemed to crave affection. It seemed that she wanted to make up for all the years she had been forced to act and look like a boy, and all she wanted to do were the most feminine things. Tearle, so unlike the men she had known all her life, was glad to show her all the most feminine arts.

  He helped her choose gowns that he thought would look good on her. Each night he brushed her hair, both of them hoping that the brushing would make it grow faster.

  They played games with each other and with the other people of his household. They rode and hunted and sometimes did nothing. He started teaching her to read, and he showed her some of the notes on a lute. Together they wrote a few poems, and Tearle told her she had a talent for poetry.

  And through all of it they made love. Everything seemed to have some sexual connotation to them. The sight of a baby made them think of creating their own. Music made them retire to their chamber. Reading was lusty to them, especially since some of the poems that Zared created were quite bawdy.

  Zared showed Tearle how to use a knife, and her demonstration nearly drove Tearle wild with desire. It wasn't that she was teaching him anything that he didn't know, but that she wore no clothes while demonstrating.

  They played hide and seek for one whole day when it rained, and whoever found the other made love to the other on the spot, wherever they were.

  Tearle, who had in the past made love to women mostly in secret, was fascinated with the freedom he had. He could have his wife any time he wanted her.

  He was also fascinated by Zared. She had not been told what "ladies" should and should not do, so she was willing to try anything. Also, she was so athletic that sometimes she made him feel old and decrepit. She scampered up trees with the agility of a lizard. He followed her and then made love to her on a forked tree branch.

  She had none of the fears that he had always assumed ladies were born with. She was not afraid of high places or of weapons or of charging boars or of his men.

  One night as they lay together, sweaty and satiated, he asked her about her exuberance.

  "Do you not see that I am free?" she said. "I have never been free before. You have had a life of such ease that you cannot understand what being a prisoner is like. You are so soft."

  "Perhaps I am now, but I am not always soft," he said, some hurt in his voice.

  "No, you goose, I do not mean that. I mean that you are soft inside. You are gentle and kind, and you are not driven by hatred."

  "You make me sound as though I am less than a man. You can see the scars on my body. I can fight."

  "You can fight in mock battles, true, but can you kill? Could you look a man in the eye and kill him?"

  He held her hand in his and looked at it. "I would kill whoever touched you."

  "Yes, you probably would." She sighed, for she didn't have any idea how to explain what she meant. He didn't understand hatred. He had no idea what it was like to feed off hatred—to have hatred consume the souls of those around you.

  "Could you look into a man's eyes and kill him?" he asked.

  "If he were a Howard," she said before she thought, then she turned to look at him, a feeling of horror growing inside her.

  "I am a Howard," he said softly. "Could you look into my eyes and kill me?"

  She didn't know what to say to him. She knew that she could not kill him. Or could she? If he were to threaten on
e of her brothers, what would she do?

  She shivered, then looked at him. "I have many times looked into your eyes and killed you. You have no stamina. You are a weak and puny thing who cries 'Enough' after only a few hours of coupling. We Peregrines are—" She didn't say any more because he started kissing her again.

  It was in the middle of the third week that Zared's happiness came crashing down about her head. It was barely dawn, and since living with Tearle she had grown so lazy that they were still in bed when the door burst open.

  One of Tearle's knights hurried into the room, his face red from exertion, veins pounding in his forehead. He was so out of breath that he could barely speak. "He comes."

  Zared looked up, rubbing her eyes. She had been safe for so long that danger seemed a long-ago experience to her. She saw her husband nod at the man.

  "How many?" Tearle asked.

  "Hundreds. They come armed for war."

  Again Tearle nodded. "Prepare the men. Remember they are to aim no weapon. These men are now my relatives. I will have no blood shed this day."

  At the mention of blood Zared came fully awake and sat up, clutching the top sheet to her. "What has happened?"

  Tearle dismissed his man, then turned to his wife. "Your brother has come with an army. I believe he means to kill me and take you to his home."

  Zared didn't say a word, but felt as though the blood drained from her entire body. She started to roll to the far side of the bed, but Tearle caught her arm.

  "Here, what is this you plan to do?"

  "I will go to my brother. I will not allow him to kill you. You have been good to me."

  His hand tightened on her forearm. "In spite of the fact that I am a Howard, I have been good to you." There was sarcasm in his voice. "And now you plan to leave me."

  "I mean to stop a war!" she shouted.

  "You mean to take care of this?" he asked softly.

  "Aye." Her mind was working quickly. "I will tell my brother that I wanted to marry you. I will tell him that my lust overcame me. He might understand that. Although Rogan is a man of great honor. He would never allow his lust to make him do such a dishonorable thing as I have done. He would have died rather than marry the enemy, and he would have hated the enemy until the end of time. He would have not done as I have and come to… to care for the enemy."

  Through this long speech Tearle had been silent, just looking at her.

  "Do you mean to stay there all day?" she snapped at him. She didn't want to think that it was the last time she would probably ever see him again. She had no doubt that her brother would never allow her to remain with a Howard. Rogan would have the marriage annulled, saying that his sister did not have her brothers' permission to marry. "Why are you looking at me so strangely?"

  "You still see me as a Howard, not as the man that I am. You still think that I am a weakling and that your brother, with his violent ways, is all-powerful. Can you not yet see that violence is not always the answer?"

  She shook her head at him. "I will see if you say that when my brother's sword is moving toward your head." She went to the chest by the window, withdrew the clothes she had taken from the cook's son, and began to put them on.

  "No!" Tearle said, bounding out of the bed. "You are no longer a boy. You are not a Peregrine boy, you are a Howard woman."

  "I am not!" she screamed at him, throwing the clothes on the floor. "I will never, never, never be a Howard. I cannot be a Howard. Howards are my enemy."

  Tearle pulled her into his arms. "Sssh, love. Be quiet. There is no reason for this fear you have. Your brother cannot take you from me."

  She pushed away from him. "He will fight you. Do you understand nothing? My brothers hate the Howards. Rogan will die trying to kill you. Only if I go with him will he not declare war on you."

  He smiled at her. "Then by all means you must go with him. But you will not dress as a boy. Those days are over. You will wear the cloth-of-gold dress. You will let your brother see that you have become a woman."

  "I will let my brother see that the Howard money can buy dresses that cost more than the yearly rents of all the Peregrine wealth," she muttered. She was hurt, deeply hurt that he didn't seem to care that they would never be together again. She would go to her brother and her brother… Heavens, but she hated to think of what her brother would do to punish her for what she had done.

  "What shall I wear?" Tearle asked.

  "What do I care what you wear? I will not be here to see it." I will not be here to see what you wear or do not wear. Now I will never learn to read, she thought. Now I will never have children, or have a husband who holds me and makes me laugh.

  "What do you think will impress your brother? Do you think riches impress him, or should I wear a suit of armor? I do not know whether to wear the cloth of silver or the armor. We will look a fine pair with you in gold and me in silver, will we not? But I fear that your brother will want me to prove myself to him, and I think that the silver is too fragile for that. And it is difficult to get blood from it."

  She put her hands to the side of her head. "My brother is marching toward us with an army, and you stand there talking of clothes. You have no sense to you. Do you not realize that I will never see you again? That today I must return to my brother?" She was trying not to cry. "I knew that this soft life could not last. I knew that there could be no life such as this for me. I knew that it would end."

  At that Tearle took her wrists in his hands. "Look at me and listen to what I have to say. You may think that your brother is the most powerful man in the world, but he is not. For all that you remind me every hour, you seem to forget that I am a Howard. I have men and riches at my disposal that could take your brother and his puny army at any time."

  Zared's eyes widened in horror, and she stepped away, but he pulled her back to him.

  "I am telling you what I can do, not what I plan. What I plan is to give myself to your brother."

  "You cannot," she whispered. "He will kill you."

  "Will he? You said that he was a man of honor. Will he kill a man who is not only a cousin by blood but is now a brother by marriage? Will he kill a man who surrenders himself?"

  "You cannot give yourself to him. I will go. He wants the return of me. You do not know Rogan. His family is all to him."

  He moved his face close to hers. "And you have become all to me. Do you think that I will allow you to go? Do you think that I will let you walk away from me after I have fought so long and hard to get you?"

  "I… I do not know. I do not know what to think. My brother will kill you, that is all that I know."

  "Your puny brother would have difficulty killing a Howard." He laughed at her look. "That is the woman I know. Now get dressed, or your brother will be here and we shall be wearing nothing. I shall wear the silver. With your brother's temper he might think that a Howard in armor is an invitation to a fight, and I am tired today from a brawl in bed last night with another Peregrine."

  "You could not beat my brother Rogan. He is as—"

  "Yes, yes, spare me the details of the glories of your brother. Would that some day you would speak of me as other than a weakling who can barely summon the energy to get out of bed in the morning." He turned her around and smacked her bare bottom. "Now get dressed and prepare yourself to greet your brother with all the graciousness of a Howard lady."

  Every time he called her a Howard her heart sank a little further. She was hardly aware when he left the room and when Margaret entered and began to help her dress.

  It wasn't much later that Tearle came to get her. He was resplendent in cloth of silver that had a blue silk background. It made his dark hair seem darker, and she had never seen a more handsome man in her life.

  He smiled at her look. "At last I seem to please you in something that I do." He held out his arm to her. "Shall we go to meet your brother?"

  Zared found that she was trembling as they went down the stairs together, and for the first time she looked at the
house not for its beauty but as a place to defend. For defense it was worthless. There were no walls to protect it, no gates to shut against intruders. And the building was not stone but wood. One flaming arrow could set the whole place ablaze. The house no longer seemed so beautiful; it seemed a useless place.

  She stopped on the stairs. "Leave now and I will tell my brother that I will go with him if he swears not to harm you."

  He kissed her sweetly on the mouth. "No," he said softly. "For all that you seem convinced that I am a coward, I am not."

  He put his arm tightly about her waist, and they began walking again. "And for all that you think he is, your brother is not a god on earth. He is merely a man, as we all are. Now do try to look less frightened. Your brother will think that I beat you."

  Yes, she thought, she had better keep her chin up. Rogan was terrifying enough. She did not need to give him more reason for his anger than he already had.

  When she realized what her husband planned to do she thought she might faint from fear. She thought he meant to meet her brother's army with his own, but instead he walked with her, alone, to the front of the house, to the little courtyard where fragrant flowers grew. They stood there, his arm about her, supporting her, the sun flashing off the brilliant fabric of their clothes.

  "You cannot do this," she said frantically as she felt the ground tremble from the stamp of Rogan's men's horses. "Rogan will run you through."

  "I cannot believe that your brother would be that stupid. The king would have him drawn and quartered. Now be still and smile at him. Are you not glad to see him?"

  The man is crazy, Zared thought, absolutely crazy. If she had been strong enough, she would have carried him to safety, but as it was she could only stand beside him, her heart pounding in her ears, her body trembling, her hands and feet cold from fear, and watch her brother approach.

  Rogan rode at the head of what must have been three hundred men, and she wondered where they had all come from. Some of them she recognized, but most she did not. She tried to straighten her back, but it seemed to be made of gelatin.