Midnight Pleasures

Part One CHAPTER 8

  "We leave in the morning. "

  "Do you mean it?" She turned toward the sound of his voice. She had been counting the days, almost the hours, waiting for this moment.

  "Aye. 'Twill be a dangerous journey. And long. "

  "Yes, my lord. "

  "Ye are not afraid?"

  "Oh, aye, a little. But sure and I would do anything to have my sight back. "

  "I will do my best to protect ye," he said. "We leave at first light. "

  She nodded, her smile brighter than the sun at midday.

  He left the room, pausing just outside the door to watch her.

  Thinking herself alone, she clasped her hands to her breasts and lifted her face upward in an attitude of prayer.

  He did not have to divine her thoughts to know what it was she prayed for.

  They left early the following morning.

  Excitement rippled through Channa Leigh as Darkfest lifted her onto the back of a horse. Leaning forward, she patted the animal on the neck, loving the silky feel of the horse's coat.

  "Have ye ridden before?" Darkfest asked, adjusting her stirrups.

  "Never anything so large. "

  "Well, dinna worry. Clover is a fine beastie, well trained. She will carry ye safely. "

  He gazed up at Channa Leigh. She was prettier than a fresh spring morn. Sitting there, with her skirts spread over the mare's rump, a midnight-blue fur-lined cloak around her shoulders, she looked like a fairy queen going calling.

  Gathering up the reins to his own great stallion, he swung into the saddle and settled his own cloak about his shoulders. He clucked to the stallion, and the horse moved forward with a shake of his great shaggy head. The mare moved up beside the stallion. A pretty little gray pack mule followed the horses, the bell around her neck tinkling softly.

  The path that led down from the castle was a long and winding one, the narrow road lined by windblown trees and squat shrubs.

  He watched Channa Leigh carefully. She held the reins lightly in one hand, the other hand resting on the pommel. She seemed at ease in the saddle, her body swaying with the movement of the mare. The early-morning sun danced in Channa Leigh's hair, making it glisten like spun gold. His gaze moved over her face and form, delighting in the line of her profile, the sweet curve of her breast.

  He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle as his body responded to his lustful thoughts. With an oath he looked away. This journey was a mistake, he mused ruefully. In the castle, he could leave her alone when he needed to escape from the havoc she played on his senses. There was nothing within its walls that could do her harm. But out here. . . there were wild animals that could tear her to shreds, deep ravines she could stumble into, rivers that could sweep her away. He would have to keep her in his sight every moment.

  He headed east when they reached the bottom of the trail.

  The land stretched ahead of them, gently rolling hills and shallow valleys all covered in a sea of deep green grass. Tall trees garbed in the bright emerald green of early spring grew in scattered clusters. Large birds soared across the sky. He saw a small herd of deer grazing in the shade of a stand of timber. A speck of blue far off in the distance promised a water hole.

  For a time, he lost himself in the rocking chair movement of his horse. He seldom found time to ride, seldom left his mountaintop. He had forgotten how beautiful the countryside was, the sense of freedom horseback riding afforded. He looked back from time to time to check on Channa Leigh. She rode with her face lifted to the sun, drinking in its warmth, her head turning at the sound of a flock of black-headed geese winging their way south.

  He and Channa Leigh rode all that day, stopping now and then to rest the horses or to get something to eat or drink.

  Channa Leigh rode without complaint, her eagerness at being outside evident in her expression. Though she could not see, she used her other senses to the fullest, running her hands over the thick velvety grass when they stopped near a river, listening to the birds as they chirped in the treetops, picking a handful of sweet-smelling flowers.

  At dusk, he reined his horse to a halt. Dismounting, he lifted Channa Leigh from the back of the mare.

  "Wait here," he said, and when he was certain she would obey, he unsaddled the horses and turned them loose. Next, he spread a blanket on the ground and bid Channa Leigh sit down.

  When she was comfortable, he drew a circle on a small, barren patch of ground. A few words, and a fire sprang to life, crackling cheerfully in the gathering dusk.

  He pulled the ingredients for dinner from his saddlebags, filled a pot with water to warm for tea. And all the while, he watched her, becoming more and more enchanted with her nearness, more and more drawn to her beauty of face and form and spirit.

  She sighed, a soft sound, yet he heard it clearly.

  "What is it, lass?" he asked.

  "I was just wondering. . . "

  "Wondering?"

  "About Magick. "

  "What kind of magic?"

  She laughed softly. "Not sorcery. Magick, the wolf. "

  He grunted softly. "What were you wondering?"

  "If he would come to me if I called. "

  "What need have you of the wolf?"

  "I. . . " She chewed on her lower lip a moment. "I was wondering. . . that is, I should very much like to see your face. "

  His eyes widened in surprise. Of all the things she might have said, that was the furthest from his mind. He wondered if he should tell her that he was the wolf. He knew she was a little afraid of the master of Darkfest Castle. Would she be less afraid of him if she knew he was the wolf? Or more?

  The wolf. What was there about his being the wolf that restored her sight? In wolf form, his own form, or any other, he was still Darkfest. He frowned. Was it the fur?

  A bit of magic made quick work of cleaning up after dinner. He fixed a bed for Channa Leigh and one for himself, assured her that the fire would burn all through the night, keeping wild animals at bay.

  He sat by the fire long after she was asleep, his gaze returning time and again to her face. A sigh escaped her lips, and then she smiled. It took all his self-control to keep from stealing into her dreams to see what it was that made her smile.

  It was nearing midday when he realized they were being followed. Reining his horse to a halt, he turned in the saddle. Summoning his wizard's vision, he scanned their back trail, his gaze narrowing when he saw Ronin the hunter in the distance.

  Darkfest cursed under his breath.

  "What is it?" Channa Leigh asked. "Is something amiss?"

  "Your betrothed is following us. "

  "Ronin? But how. . . ?"

  Darkfest shook his head; then, realizing she could not see, he said, "I dinna know, the fool. "

  "You will not harm him?" she asked, her voice tinged with alarm.

  "Nay, I will not harm him," he muttered, "but I may change him into a toadstool. "

  "What?"

  "I said I will not harm him. " At least not permanently.

  Darkfest watched the boy ride toward them, then rein his horse to an abrupt halt when he saw Darkfest waiting for him. The boy looked around, as though seeking a place of concealment, even though he had no hope of hiding now that he had been seen. He might be a mighty hunter, Darkfest mused, but he was not a warrior.

  "Ride on," Darkfest commanded. "There is no place for ye to hide. "

  Squaring his shoulders, Ronin urged his horse onward.

  "Why are ye following us?" Darkfest demanded.

  "Why are you taking Channa Leigh away?"

  " 'Tis my own business and none of yours. Be gone with ye before I turn ye into a croaking toad. "

  The boy's eyes widened, and then he sat up tall and straight in the saddle. "I fear you not, wizard. "

  "Do ye not?"

 
The boy shook his head bravely.

  Darkfest lifted his right hand. Felt the air crackle around him as he summoned his power, shaping it in his mind.

  "I am Darkfest, master of fire and flame; change this mortal to a creature new; frog be now his name. "

  Amid a shower of green and silver sparks, the boy was transformed into a large green bullfrog. Sitting on the horse, the frog stared at Darkfest through bulging eyes, the croak that erupted from his throat filled with panic.

  "Are ye still unafraid, hunter?"

  Though the hunter now wore the guise of a frog, his awareness was that of the boy. The frog croaked again and again, louder each time.

  With a wave of his hand, Darkfest returned the boy to his own shape.

  Ronin stared at him, unable to disguise the fear in his eyes.

  "Go home, hunter," Darkfest said, "lest a worst fate befall ye. "

  Ronin glanced at Channa Leigh. "May the gods protect you, girl, for you'll see me no more. "

  "Ronin!" She called his name but heard only the sound of his horse's hooves galloping away. "What did you do to Ronin? I heard the croaking of a frog. You didn't turn him. . . "

  He turned in the saddle to face her. "I did, but only for a moment. He doubted my power. He doubts no more. "

  "And wishes to wed me no more. "

  "Does that sadden ye?"

  She searched her heart, then shook her head. "Still, it was cruel to treat him thus. "

  "Would ye rather I had left him that way? I canna have him following us, and I willna be responsible for his safety. And there's an end to it. "

  And so saying, he urged his horse forward.

  The mare trotted obediently behind.