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Authors: Karolyn Cairns

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BOOK: A Witch's Tale
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Madeline
snuggled tighter against his chest, feeling his warmth and wondering how she
could bear to leave him now. The pain that thought caused brightened her eyes
with tears. She buried her face in his hard chest, her nose snuggling into the
mat of dark hair there, inhaling the rich manly fragrance that was his alone.

A
lifetime would not be enough with him
, she thought as she was
lulled to sleep, her body curved contentedly into his.

~****~Chapter Ten~****~

One little, two
little, three little witches,
Fly over haystacks, fly over ditches,
Slide down moon beams without any hitches,
Hey ho Hallowe'en's here!

 

When
she woke in the morning all the men were gone before she could make them
something to eat. They all received stern lectures the night before from Gavin
to look sharp. None escaped his wrath, even poor Henry, who failed to buff out
a scratch in his armor.

She
fed the rats bits of cheese and bread, fuming over their fate. She chuckled to
see them tussle over the cheese. She wondered which one of the rats was the
baron and which was Hugh. All rats looked the same to her.

Gerwin
was at least behaving himself, chasing stray felines within the festival
grounds. She was glad he now ignored the rats, fearful something would befall
them before she could turn them back.

Madeline
had little to do with her time and was still bristling over Gavin’ edict she
stay clear of the tiltyards. She was never good at following orders. Her
curiosity soon got the better of her. She bit her lip in indecision as she took
a handful of coins from the baron’s purse.

Madeline
went to the merchant’s carts and bought a set of boy’s clothes. She was pleased
with the result. She tucked her long red hair under a knit cap. She hurried
away from the tent in the direction of the tiltyard, eager to watch Gavin
practice.

There
were only twelve men left to compete after days of grueling eliminations. She
learned from Alastair the jousting was only part of it. There were a half dozen
other skills besides. Gavin had to wield a sword, swing his fists, and throw
spears and knives at targets. She felt a sense of pride to know her knight
ranked so high, now second in the lists next to Sir Rohan de Warren, Lord
Strathmore’s favorite and champion.

Sir
Rohan caused Gavin no little amount of concern. Madeline knew he worried he
would lose, claiming the man was better than him. She would see for herself,
find some weakness her lover could use to his advantage. Sir Rohan would not
steal Gavin’s birthright after all he’d done to reclaim it. She vowed to help
any way she could, though casting was now out of the question.

Madeline
didn’t dare after all she’d done to muck matters up. Recalling how she’d had
him stuck upon his horse the last time, she reasoned she could only make
matters worse for him.

Madeline
grimaced the closer she got to the tiltyards. It stunk of horse dung and other
matter she’d not like to think about as she stepped carefully to the practice
fields, keeping her head down as she passed knights, nobles, and guards on her
way.

The
day was bright and slightly chilly. She looked about with interest as she
approached the fence, peering through the slats to see two men in the middle of
a match, their horses charging, lances outstretched.

Before
she could ascertain if one of them was Gavin, she was snatched up by the scruff
of her neck. She glared up at the hulking blond, leather clad knight. He stared
down at her in annoyance.

“You
there, Boy,” he demanded roughly as he dragged her away from the fence. “I need
my horse tended to. Get to it, lad. Enough of your gawking.”

Madeline
gasped as the heavy handed knight grasped her arm roughly and pushed her
towards the barn. Obviously he thought her a groom. She was about to argue the
matter when the man smacked her rear end to get her moving faster. She yelped
and rubbed her bruised posterior. She entered the dim barn and was pushed to
the stall.

“I
need the stall cleaned and fresh hay put down, and he needs feeding and
watering after he’s brushed,” the man said harshly before he grabbed her ear.
“Are you listening, lad?”

Madeline
nodded and rubbed her ear, glaring up at the surly knight. He acted just like
Gavin, come to think of it. She took a moment to assess the man. His face was
ruggedly handsome, even with the scar that ran under one eye. It hardly
diminished his looks, but seemed to enhance them. He was tall and powerfully
built. He had shoulder length pale blonde hair. His eyes were as black as sin
and glared down at her now.

Just
then his young squire returned, gazing at the knight in apology. “I see you’ve
found the groom, Sir Rohan. I apologize for the delay.”

“No
need to apologize, Burroughs. I found the little slacker skulking about the
practice field.”

Madeline
eyed the man in annoyance. It was no surprise this arrogant knight was her lover’s
rival. She should have known. She was dismayed to be in such an obvious dilemma
now. She studied the man discreetly as she listened to him and his squire
discussing the upcoming match.

Rohan
was indeed handsome and no doubt knew it. His obvious arrogance to be leading
the ranks in the tournament was clear. He expected everyone to do his bidding
as if he was Lord Rivenhahl already. She would have liked to kick the man in
his shins, but reasoned he’d clout her. Burroughs left to find his favorite lance
and shield.

Sir
Rohan regarded her with a questioning look. “What’s your name, Boy? I haven’t
seen you around here before.”

“Me
friend’s call me Mad,” Madeline answered in a gruff voice, ducking her head.

Sir
Rohan grinned, displaying an enviable smile. “Is that for your temper or your
state of mind, Mad? I don’t want to fear for my horse.”

“Both,
it be,” Madeline snapped. “Ye didn’t ask when ye dragged me here, Sir.”

Sir
Rohan laughed, a rich sound that was pleasant to her ears. “Do a good job, Mad.
I’ll make sure you have the best seat for the tournament for your effort, Lad.”

Madeline
watched him leave and glared back at the large bronze-colored horse named
Goldwyn. She came to spy on Gavin and was stuck caring for his opponent’s
horse. She muttered under her breath as she quickly carried out the tasks.
Within two hours, the horse was brushed a gleaming bronze. It looked content
with fresh hay, food, and water.

Madeline
left the barn and was grateful Sir Rohan wasn’t anywhere about. She climbed the
fence and saw him in conversation with Lord Strathmore near the man’s box. The
pair appeared to be arguing. She couldn’t hear what was said. Sir Rohan looked
furious as he stalked away from his sponsor. She jumped down from the fence and
got out of the man’s way as he stomped through the gates.

She
couldn’t see Gavin anywhere and decided to follow Sir Rohan and gain
information. She stayed a discreet distance behind him. He went to a large
luxurious tent on the opposite side of the festival grounds. Servants stood in
attendance outside. It was obvious whoever he went to meet was someone of
importance.

Madeline
ran around to the back of the tent and listened as the man went within. She
heard a low throaty female voice speaking first.

“Careful,
Rohan, you risk much to come here during the day while my husband postures
before our king. You could be seen,” the woman chided in amusement. “What has
you so angry?”

“Your
husband asks me to lose the match to de Mortaine,” Sir Rohan snapped within.
Madeline’s eyes widened as she listened.

“Lose?
Whatever for? He meant for you to have Rivenhahl. It amused him to withhold Sir
Gavin’s rightful due. What is Samuel up to now?” the lady mused and laughed in
a tinkling manner. “One never knows with my husband.”

“It
appears his plan has changed,” Sir Rohan ground out. “I did not train as I did
to lose, Blythe! I mean to win this tournament. Your husband seeks to betray
me.”

“You
must allow me to get to the bottom of this, Rohan. I will go to Samuel’s room
tonight and endure his company if only to find out what he plans,” Lady
Strathmore said thoughtfully.

Madeline
wondered if Lord Strathmore knew his wife entertained his champion knight while
he wasn’t looking. They both went silent for a time. She heard the sounds of
kissing, then moaning, and finally heated lovemaking. She walked away from the
back of the tent red-faced. She walked hurriedly back the way she came. She had
to find Alastair. It appeared Strathmore was up to something. It was also clear
Sir Rohan wanted no part in the man’s scheme.

She
returned to the tent and changed. She checked upon the two rats and fed them,
depressed to still have little idea how to change them back. She fed her pet
chicken and collected its eggs.

She determined
she would take what little of the Baron’s gold she needed to start over
somewhere. The rest she would leave for Gavin. Should he lose the match, he
would not leave here empty handed. The baron’s purse contained enough for her
to question their real purpose here at the tournament.

As
tightfisted as the man was reputed to be, it seemed odd he would carry such a
large sum around with him. She reasoned he might have wished to wager on the
tournament, but swiftly dismissed that theory when she counted the gold coins.
No, the baron didn’t carry such wealth about for a mere wager. He had a king’s
ransom in his purse. It made little sense to her.

These
thoughts troubled her but she went about preparing a meal for the men. It was
nearing the time they would return. She was disappointed she hadn’t managed to
catch a glimpse of Gavin, but she would return to the tiltyards tomorrow. This
time she would avoid Sir Rohan, having no desire to be ordered about by
him.  Alastair and Gavin arrived first. While Gavin saw to Cyrian, she
pounced upon Alastair as he washed his hands and face in the horse’s trough.

“I
overheard something today,” she began as she saw they were alone. “You mustn’t
ask how I came to know it; but you must warn Gavin.”

Alastair
wiped his face and his dark eyes filled with concern. “What did you hear?”

“I
followed Sir Rohan to Lady Strathmore’s tent and overheard him telling her Lord
Strathmore has asked him to throw the match.”

Alastair
looked immediately alert. “What did Rohan say was the reason?”

“He
didn’t say. He was angry and refused,” Madeline said and lowered her voice;
fearful Gavin would hear and learn she’d not followed his orders. “I heard
enough outside her tent.”

Alastair
grinned at Madeline’s words. “So just how long did you listen outside the tent,
Madeline?”

She
blushed furiously and looked away. “Enough to know Rohan is bedding
Strathmore’s wife.”

“Gavin
will want to know all of this,” he said and chuckled as he saw her mortified
face. “You’ve helped us a great deal.”

“I
saw him arguing with Strathmore and followed,” she said dismissively. “I did as
any of the others would have.”

“My
thanks, Madeline,” he offered and raked a hand through his dark hair. “We at
least know Strathmore doesn’t intend to deal fairly in this.”

“Rohan
is furious,” Madeline whispered and shook her head. “The man has no intention
of throwing the match. He wants what he was promised.”

“Strathmore
promised him Rivenhahl, no doubt. An earldom is enough to lure any knight into
mischief, but it makes no sense,” Alastair mused and scratched his chin. “Why
ask him to throw the match at the last? He cannot want to see Gavin’s family
restored to Rivenhahl. I must think on this. You would do well to avoid Sir
Rohan and the Lady Blythe in the future, Madeline.”

She
grinned up at him. “He thinks me a groom, I fear. I learned much dressed as a
boy today.”

Alastair
shook his head, dark eyes worried. “Gavin would be furious to know you skulk
about dressed as a lad spying on his opponent. Stay clear of the practice
fields, Madeline. Should Rohan discover you’re not a boy, I fear for you. The
man’s reputation with women is quite unsavory.”

“I
will take care,” she promised and smirked. “You can thank me by assuring me you
will look out for Gavin. I would not want to see him cheated out of his
rightful due once more.”

Alastair
nodded and said nothing as Gavin approached. His green eyes were weary as they
slid over Madeline’s face.

“I
would eat and take you for your bath,” he told her and smiled stiffly. “I won’t
be the best company, my sweet. I’m quite tired after today’s practice.”

Madeline
nodded and left the two men to get them something to eat. She saw them in
conversation. Gavin’s face was grim as his friend told him what was learned
today. Obviously Alastair left her out of how the information was collected.
The pair spoke quietly at the fire.

“It
appears Strathmore is not content to let the spoils go to the victor,” Gavin
said as he ate, glaring into the fire. “I see no point to the man’s efforts. He
could not want me to win.”

BOOK: A Witch's Tale
10.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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