Midnight Warrior

  Twelve

  Gage!

  Brynn’s eyes flew open, her heart pounding with terror.

  Blood. Gage. Death.

  No!

  Then, as she came fully awake, a shudder of relief went through her. A dream. Only a dream.

  Gage was next to her in front of the fire, breathing deeply, evenly, his arms still in a loose embrace about her. She lay there, staring at him.

  Gage staggering forward, the hilt of a dagger protruding from his back, falling …

  Only a dream. Dreams did not always come true. Actually, only a few of her dreams had become reality. She had been worried about Richard when she had fallen asleep, and her fears had no doubt tricked her into that horrible nightmare.

  But what if it were a true vision? What if Gage were destined to die in such a horrid manner?

  The pain that tore through her was unbearable.

  His eyes flew open as if she had called him. “Brynn?”

  Her trembling hands reached out to touch his face. Firm, warm, and vibrant with life.

  “What is it?” Gage asked.

  She did not want to speak of it. It was only a dream. He wouldn’t believe it had any portent anyway. Forget it. Bury it. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Her fingers brushed his lips. “It was only a dream.”

  “More of a nightmare judging by the way you’re shaking.”

  “Yes.” She nestled closer to his warm, hard body. “But it’s gone now.” “Is it?”

  Not entirely, the chill still lingered. “Quite gone.” She buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder. “And it won’t come back.”

  He chuckled. “Because you will it so.”

  Hope leapt within her at his words. Destiny could be fought. She battled the dragons every time she healed an affliction, and she knew many would have died if she had not intervened. Even if the dream were a true vision, who was to say she could not change fate? “Yes, that’s right. Because I will it so.”

  But what if she did not prevail? What if these moments were among the last they would spend together?

  Silence except for the hiss and crackle of the burning logs.

  “If you have need—I would not deny you,” she said in a muffled voice.

  He stiffened. “Need?”

  She did not answer.

  “Lust?” he asked. “I’m curious to know why, after refusing me for days, I’m to receive this splendid gift. What of guilt? Am I suddenly less a murderer? Have the angels come down to whisper to you of my innocence?”

  “No.” She was silent a moment and then blurted out, “Why do you ask questions? You want this, take it.”

  “Why?” he persisted. “What of your own guilt? Are you no longer Bathsheba?”

  “I’m still guilty. That will always remain. Always.” She swallowed. “Why are you arguing with me? You said that I must learn to accept what happened. I’ve done it, and that’s the end of it.”

  “But why have you accepted it?” He pushed her away from him and lifted her chin on the arc of his finger. “Why now?”

  Tears stung her eyes so that she could barely see. “It has come to me … that I have … a certain affection for you.”

  “What kind of affection?”

  He would not relent, and she was weary of fighting him. “It is my belief … that I … love you.”

  His breath released explosively. “I believe you do too, and, by God, it’s past time you admitted it. Now, what are we to do about it?”

  “I’ve already told you what you can do about it.”

  “I’m to be allowed to spill my seed into your body? That’s not good enough.”

  “It would have been good enough two nights ago.”

  “But that was before I realized what strides I’ve been making. Will you wed me?”

  “No, I cannot.”

  “You can and will. You’ve said you’ve accepted my transgressions. Take the next step.”

  “You ask too much.”

  “No more than I give.”

  “It’s easier for you. You have no—” She stopped, hesitating.

  “Honor? Conscience?”

  She shook her head. “You do have honor, but we look at things differently.”

  “Then teach me to view the world as you do.” He smiled crookedly. “I don’t promise to accept, but at least I’d understand.”

  He had understood about her mother, about the gift, but he would never view the world as she did. “I’ve told you what I offer you. Will you take it?”

  He gazed at her for a long time. “No.”

  A ripple of shock went through her at the rejection. He had made sure she knew the pain he suffered from thwarted lust.

  “You should be surprised. I’m surprised myself.” He removed his arms and shifted away from her. “Good night, Brynn.”

  He turned his back on her.

  “You’re a very changeable man,” she said, stung. “And clearly have no idea of what you wish.”

  He kept his back turned to her. “I know exactly what I wish, and I have no intention of sacrificing an entire caravan for a camel.”

  She frowned in puzzlement. “What is a camel?”

  “A hump-backed creature I use for desert trading.”

  “And I am this camel?”

  “There are similarities. You’re equally stubborn and carry more burdens on your back than a dozen camels. I won’t be one of them. You may have forgiven me, but not yourself.”

  “I don’t need to forgive myself to give to you.”

  “But I need you to forgive yourself. For some odd reason, I find it necessary that you come to me with a whole heart.” He added wearily, “Go back to sleep. Perhaps your dreams will be more pleasant this time.”

  The dream.

  Fear rushed back to her. She wanted to reach out and touch him, take him into her, but he had made it impossible. She realized by this restraint he thought he could get her to yield more, but it filled her with desperation. She did not want him to withdraw from her at this crucial time. She wanted to give him whatever pleasure she could, take what she could. She did not want him to be alone.

  Blood. Gage. Death.

  It might not come true.

  Pray God it would not.

  “Are you sure this is your Gwynthal?” Adwen wrinkled her nose. “I see nothing pleasant about it. It looks to be a hard, cold place.”

  An eager smile lit Brynn’s face at the sight of the sheer limestone cliffs. “It’s not like that when you reach the interior. Once you get beyond the rocks and into the valley—” She stopped as she saw Adwen’s skeptical expression. “You’ll see.”

  “Let’s hope we all will,” Gage said, still rowing strongly against the rough waves. He glimpsed the three other boats behind their own. “Providing you’ll kindly guide us beyond those rocks before we’re all dashed to pieces.”

  Brynn pulled her glance away from the island. “To the north, around the headland. There’s a cove …”

  “I see no cove,” Gage said.

  “It’s behind that huge black rock.”

  “Rock? It looks to be a cliff.”

  “There’s a cove behind it. Swing to the east and then around the far end.”

  Everything was blessedly familiar. Even the sea gulls’ scream was a song of welcome. She was home.

  “Where’s the village?” Gage asked.

  Brynn pointed to a path leading from the beach straight up the hill. “It’s right over that crest, but the castle is several miles distant.”

  “Castle?”

  “Did you think Hevald would live in a hovel? He built a fine castle when he came here.” The boat reached the shore and Brynn didn’t wait for Gage to help her but jumped out onto the rocks. “You’ll approve, I’m sure. It’s a fine stone castle. He had no fear of invasion, but he wanted to make sure his home would withstand the years as well as the weather.”

  “And did it?”

  “Of course it did.” She frowned. “Though, when last I saw
it, the years and neglect had taken their price. It’s a sad place now.”

  “Sad?” Adwen asked.

  Brynn shifted her shoulders uneasily. She did not want to think of that sadness or anything that was less than perfect about Gwynthal. “Perhaps it was only a child’s fancy.” She started up the rocky path she’d indicated. “Let’s go to the village. I want you to see—”

  “Come back,” Gage called out. “There’s no need to rush. We’ll wait for the others.”

  He was wary of what he would find on Gwynthal, she realized as she retraced her steps. It was a legitimate fear, since Gwynthal was unknown to him.

  But she was home.

  Adwen stepped closer and took her hand. “I’m sorry I misspoke your Gwynthal, Brynn. I’m sure it’s a fine and lovely place.”

  Brynn knew Adwen was not certain of any such thing but feared she might have hurt Brynn’s feelings. “Why should I mind? Gwynthal has survived the centuries by appearing to be uninviting.” She glanced at the other boats nearing the shore. “But I wish they would hurry. I can’t wait to be on our way.”

  “Do you remember anyone living in the village?”

  “Of course I do. We lived at Falkhaar and not the village, but I knew—” She stopped. Whom did she know? Her happy memories of Gwynthal were of running through the forests, learning herb lore from her mother, playing on the grounds of the castle. Everything else was vague and distorted. “I knew Father Thomas, the priest.”

  “Not a wide acquaintance,” Gage said dryly. “Is the treasure near this village?”

  She shook her head. “No, in the forest beyond the castle.”

  “Then let’s push forward and retrieve it,” Malik said as he jumped out of the second boat. “And get away from this chill shore.”

  “Are you still cold?” Adwen asked. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have shaved off your beard.”

  “Ah, yes, I do miss it.” Malik beamed at her. “Not only did it keep my face warm, but it hid my weak chin.”

  “True. Well, perhaps you can grow another one.”

  Brynn stared at both of them in bewilderment. Malik had no weak chin, and without his beard he was even more handsome. When he had appeared at the boats two days earlier, she had been stunned at the difference, but since he had commanded the second boat she had not had an opportunity to see Adwen’s reaction to the change.

  “If God wills,” Malik said. He and Adwen exchanged another look and Brynn suddenly felt a pang of envy. A secret joke among lovers. She should have realized that a step had been taken. The tartness in Adwen had mellowed, Malik’s concern eased.

  The third boat was landing and LeFont stepped out, lifted Alice to the shore, and immediately began barking orders to the other soldiers in the boat regarding the unloading of the supplies.

  “Is this the only landing place on the island?” Gage asked Brynn.

  “Yes.” She turned away from watching LeFont. “May we go now?”

  “As soon as I give LeFont his orders,” Gage said. “He’s to stay here and guard the boats until we return.”

  “There are no thieves on Gwynthal.”

  “How do you know? You seem to have little acquaintance here.”

  “My mother told me.”

  “Your mother wouldn’t have lied to you, but when you’re away you sometimes don’t remember things clearly.” He met her gaze. “The guards stay here.”

  He was not speaking only of her mother. He was warning her that her own memories might not be true. “It’s a waste of LeFont’s time, but do as you wish.”

  “I will.” He crossed the distance separating him from LeFont.

  “But it’s truly a waste,” she muttered to his retreating back.

  “Perhaps,” Malik said. “But he may also be thinking of another danger.”

  “Richard? You think he might have followed us?”

  “It is possible. He could have hidden down the coast from Selkirk waiting for us to arrive and then set sail when we did.”

  “We saw no sign of him on the way here.”

  “But we had fog for a good portion of the way. It’s easy to hide in the fog.”

  “And when it cleared he could have stayed just far enough away to keep LeFont’s sail in view,” Adwen said matter-of-factly.

  Adwen was not afraid and Brynn should not have been either. After all, Richard was only one man. Even if he found the way into the cove he would not be able to prevail against their numbers.

  Gage.

  Blood.

  But she hadn’t seen Richard in the dream. Only Gage and the dagger …

  “Brynn.” Alice was beside her, her voice thin and strained. “I would speak with you.”

  Brynn was immediately jarred back to the present. “Are you well? How did you stand the journey?”

  “Fine. Captain LeFont and the other soldiers were very kind to me.”

  “It was a long trip, but you’ll feel better once we start walking. I’m sure you feel cramped and—”

  “I want to stay here,” Alice interrupted. “I don’t want to go with you.”

  Brynn frowned in puzzlement. “Why not?”

  Alice flushed. “I’m weary of travel. Will you tell Lord Gage?”

  “But you’re with child. You may need me.”

  “I’m strong and healthy, and so is my child. I’m months from my term. I’ll wait for you here.”

  “Don’t you wish to meet the villagers? If you’re to stay, you’ll need to find a place to settle.”

  The flush grew deeper. “I may not choose to stay on Gwynthal.”

  Brynn’s eyes widened in shock. “Why not? I thought we’d agreed that you’d settle here with your child. Once you become accustomed to it, you’ll like it here. It’s much more pleasant once you leave the coast and the people are kinder than at Redfern.”

  “I didn’t agree. You just—I know you thought you were doing what was best for me, but I may not—” She stopped, looking thoroughly miserable. “Will you tell Lord Gage?”

  “Of course,” Brynn said. “If you truly wish it.”

  “Oh, I do. I do,” Alice said fervently. “You don’t need me, and I’ll be of much more use here. I can cook for the soldiers and gather wood for fires.…” She was already hurrying back to the shore.

  “Listen to her.” Brynn shook her head. “We shouldn’t leave her. She’ll tire herself, waiting on all those men.”

  Adwen shook her head. “LeFont won’t permit her to exhaust herself. Haven’t you noticed how careful he is of her well-being?”

  “LeFont?” Brynn asked, startled. “No.”

  “Then you’re certainly blind.” Adwen chuckled. “He treats her as if she’s made of eggshells.” She smiled indulgently as she watched Alice hurry toward the captain. “And she treats him as if he were a god from Olympus.”

  “Fortunate soul,” Malik murmured. “Some men are given worship while others receive only abuse.”

  “She doesn’t want to stay on Gwynthal because she has a fondness for the captain?” Adwen was right. She had been blind, Brynn thought, too involved in her own concerns to notice what was going on around her. Now she remembered the many times on the trail she had seen Alice and LeFont talking, laughing. “But she’s bearing another man’s child. What if he will not wed her?”

  “I think he will.” Malik added gently, “And if he does not, she must take the consequences of her acts. You cannot cure her woes as you would her body, Brynn.”

  “What kind of life will she lead as the wife of a soldier? She would be much safer if she stayed here.”

  “But perhaps not as happy. We do not all value peace as much as you do. Let her go to LeFont.”

  “You speak as if I were holding her captive. She can go where she wills. I want only what’s best for her.” Yet she did feel an odd sense of betrayal and loneliness. She had looked forward to having a friend there after the others left. She went to meet Gage, who was returning from speaking to LeFont. “I’ve been talking to Alice.” br />
  His eyes narrowed. “She told you about LeFont?”

  Another surprise. “You knew too?”

  “I knew they were spending a great deal of time together and LeFont was behaving in an unusual manner. There’s usually a woman behind such conduct.”

  She forced a smile. “Well, then it won’t surprise you that Alice wishes to remain here instead of going with us.”

  “He’s a fine soldier and a good man, Brynn.”

  “Yes, he is.” She changed the subject. “Will all the soldiers remain here?”

  “I’ll make that decision once we’ve met the villagers. Do most of the islanders live in the village?”

  “Yes, but there are several farms between here and the castle.”

  “And are these farmers friendly?”

  She tried to remember. She was beginning to realize what an isolated life she had led as a child. They had come to the village only on rare occasions and she had but a vague memory of staying the night at a farmer’s house on the journey from Falkhaar. Friendly? They had been welcomed and accepted, but she could not recall.… “They won’t attack us, if that’s what you mean.”

  “That’s what I mean. I don’t want them to embrace us, just not kill us.”

  “I told you Gwynthal was a place of peace. It takes greed to breed discontent, and we’ve always been content.”

  “Even when they see us with packhorses bearing treasure?” He smiled cynically. “I think that would make anyone a trifle discontent with their own lot.”

  She shook her head. “What would they do with gold and jewels? It would have no value here; Gwynthal has its own barter system.”

  “They could sail away to the outer world, where it does have value.” He paused. “As your father did.”

  “My father was not … he was not like the other men here.” All of these questions were making her uneasy and tainting the joy of homecoming. She wanted to be done with them. “Are you coming, or are you going to linger forever?” She didn’t wait for an answer but started up the trail. When she glanced over her shoulder, Gage was right behind her, followed closely by Malik and Adwen.

  When they reached the top of the hill, she stopped and took in the sight below. Gwynthal.

  Verdant dense forests; solitary and sensuous. Blue lakes. Rich, rolling farmland. This was the Gwynthal she remembered, the Gwynthal of a thousand dreams.