Midnight Warrior

  “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.”

  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.”