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Authors: Karolyn Cairns

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BOOK: A Witch's Tale
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“You
confuse whatever it is you think you see, Alastair. I mean to win,” Gavin said
harshly. “Is a girl who thinks she’s a damned witch worth my family’s honor?”

Madeline
didn’t wait for Alastair’s reply. She walked away from the tent feeling
bruised, sickened and infuriated. She didn’t trust herself to be anywhere near
Gavin right now. The worst part was that she brought all upon herself.

****

Madeline
helped Gavin put on his gear. It was not yet light outside. He declined
anything to eat. She could see by the tense set of his face he worried the
preliminary matches of today, and the next, up against Sir Rohan. Her hurt
feelings from the day before were assuaged when she cast another spell,
bringing back her loving knight.

She
gave Rohan little thought the last day spent with Gavin, basking in his
attentions. They went into the city with the men and explored for hours,
watching street corner plays, and eating from vendor carts. She enjoyed herself
immensely and the day was over far too soon.

Now
he went to face Rohan in the field with uncertain outcomes. She didn’t dare
linger on the image of the man pinning her to the hay pile, or his lusty ardor.
She felt disgusted she’d let it get that far before she cast a spell upon him
to stop it.

Gavin
bent and kissed her lingeringly, his eyes gentle as they beheld hers. “I will
need all your spells for luck this day, sweet witch. Rohan has had a full day’s
rest. He will be unmerciful.”

“Is
he that good, Gavin?” she asked tentatively, wanting to know more about the
knight and cursing her own curiosity.

Gavin
frowned at her question. “He is better than good. He is unbeatable. The man has
made quite a name for himself. Strathmore found himself a worthy champion. Let
us hope I find some weakness in the man these next two days.”

Madeline
watched him leave and vowed she’d find one for him. Rohan was carrying on an
illicit affair with Lady Strathmore. She could be sure the pair met the night
before when he woke up. She would be sure to help matters along. A giggle
escaped her as she worked the spell in her mind, chuckling at the visual she
had. Sir Rohan would find himself indisposed once more, giving Gavin another
day’s edge in practice.

She
hummed as she opened the bundle with the boy’s clothes inside, finding several
pale blond hairs among them from her rolling in the hay with Sir Rohan. She
took them and bound them in thread, chanting over them, sprinkling the powders
and burning them until they turned blue, saying the words to seal the man’s
fate.

Lover’s
secret met with luck, soon finds them bound and stuck. Oh hold thy embrace fast
and true, hold them long, hold them through

Madeline
giggled as she blew across the burning tray, her eyes filled with mischief. Sir
Rohan would find his randy needs met, she was sure. She chuckled as she cleaned
up her mess, wishing to be a fly on the tent wall to see the pair’s
expressions.

~****~Chapter Twelve~****~

 

Here I am
and forth I must.

In Jesus
Christ is all my trust.

No wicked
thing do me no spite,

Here nor
elsewhere, day or night,

The Holy
Ghost and the Trinity,

come
betwixt my evil spirit and me,

~Anonymous.

 

Rohan
sighed and lifted his head, smiling down into Lady Blythe’s flushed sated
features. He had not meant to spend the night with her, but after the rousing
encounter with Mad in the barn, he was on fire. He’d looked everywhere for the
lovely redheaded imposter when he woke and found her nowhere. Soon he settled
for Blythe’s come-hither looks in the festival tent. He followed her back here
while her husband curried favor with their new king.

Rohan
sought to pull away from the lovely brunette beauty and make ready to return to
the practice field. He cursed to find he couldn’t remove himself from within
Blythe’s lovely body, eyes widening with alarm.

“Get
off, you big oaf!” she soon complained and struggled, trying to push him off.

Rohan
groaned in disgust to find he couldn’t disengage himself from her lovely body,
held fast. He stared down into her fuming face and cursed once more. All he
succeeded in doing was mash her under him, earning more complaints and felt her
hitting him.

“I’d
like to get up, I assure you. It appears we are stuck,” Rohan growled and fumed
as he tried to get off her once more. “Will you bloody hold still, Woman? I’m
trying to get off you!”

“Get
off me!” Blythe cried and uttered several unladylike epithets.

Rohan
closed his eyes in mortification to realize he couldn’t get out of or off his
lovely companion. Their bodies were very much stuck together. He fumed to know
his squire and grooms were awaiting him at the stables. He was to meet de
Mortaine on the field for one full day until the tournament began. It appeared
he would be late.

They
writhed and struggled and soon lay still. Blythe cursed him as she stared up at
him.

“If
my lord husband finds us here like this, you can forget his patronage, Sir
Rohan. I suggest you pull that well hung organ out or we are done!” she said in
a scathing tone.

“I
cannot move I told you,” he growled and glared down at her. “Tell your servants
you’ve taken ill and not to disturb you until we figure out how to get apart. I
can assure you this has never happened to me before.”

Blythe
called through the tent for her servants and informed them to leave her be for
the remainder of the day. She added she was taking no visitors. She glared up
at Rohan in fury.

“This
is an outrage, Rohan! Now get off me!”

He closed
his eyes, deciding in that moment he would never seek Lady Strathmore’s bed
again. Her beauty was one thing; her motives were another. He didn’t trust her.
Being this close to the woman was enough of an eye opener now. He’d been
enflamed by the redhead Mad when he awoke, determined to purge his insatiable
hunger. Now it appeared he’d pay for that.

“If
I could, I would,” he fumed and glared down at her. “It appears I’m quite stuck
in you, my lady. Your appreciation of it is warming.”

Lady
Blythe scowled and commenced to kicking once more. He grunted to catch one of
her sure blows to his shin before he pinned the woman beneath him. The
noblewoman was infuriated.

“Do
something, Rohan!” she cried and pushed at him, trying to disengage their
bodies, but to no avail. “We cannot be found like this!”

“Have
your servant send for mine at my tent. Burroughs might have some suggestions.
The man’s quite resourceful.”

Lady
Blythe called to her servant outside the tent and gave the man instructions, sending
him running to Rohan’s tent.

“If
Samuel finds us thusly, you can forget about the tournament, Rohan,” she
muttered tightly as they lay stuck together, her large catlike haze eyes
narrowed in anger. “He will send you back to that heathen island where he found
you in pieces!”

“If
your husband finds us, it would dispute his wondering who you dally with, my
lady. He thinks de Mortaine is in your bed still.”

Blythe
smiled smugly as she stared up at her lover. “It appears Gavin has brought a
woman with him to the tournament. My servants say the redheaded creature is
nowhere near my equal in beauty.”

Rohan
perked up at the words about the redheaded woman de Mortaine brought with him.
His dark eyes narrowed as he thought of Mad. Now it explained what the woman
was doing sneaking about the barn in disguise. It was clear she was de
Mortaine’s spy. Just thinking about those rousing moments in the barn were
enough to cause his body to tighten, alerting Lady Blythe without words.

“Well,
this condition should prove entertaining at least, Rohan,” she murmured as she
moved under him in answer.

Rohan
no longer wanted the dark-haired beauty under him, but the lush redhead he’d
held in his arms so briefly. Those carnal images of her were enough to
substitute the woman in his arms. He enjoyed a rousing moment before his
servant arrived.

Burroughs
entered the tent and was red-faced at once, seeing him naked and atop Lady
Blythe. The young man looked away, uncomfortable to have been brought into such
an intimate moment.

“We
seem to have a problem, Burroughs,” Rohan told him as he lifted his head from
Lady Blythe’s fragrant ivory neck, grinning to see the young man’s open
embarrassment.

****

Gavin
glared as Sir Rohan’s squire and grooms made the man’s excuses. Alastair whistled
under his breath as he went to go suit up to practice with his lord once more.

“What
is the nature of the man’s illness now?” Gavin asked angrily of the squire
named Burroughs. “I need not remind him or you we start the tournament
tomorrow?”

“No,
Sir de Mortaine, he is quite indisposed. It’s a stomach ailment. A most
grievous one, from what I can see. He will be more himself tomorrow.”

Gavin
shook his head as the man all but ran from his sight. He stood in front of the
barn where he met the squire with Sir Rohan’s excuses. He was fairly gnashing
his teeth. Two days in a row the man put him off, leaving him to practice with
Alastair. He was eager to get the tournament behind him.

He
shook his head in disgust as he wheeled Cyrian about and headed back to the
field. His thoughts were dark as he contemplated Strathmore, who was just told
of Sir Rohan’s defection today. The older man looked incensed as he stalked
from the stands.

The
information Alastair told him made his eyes narrow at the man’s back. He could
almost wager Sir Rohan was not happy to take the purported fall from his horse
the earl demanded. By all accounts, the man was unbeatable. Gavin competed
against him enough to know it would take a miracle to beat him.

He
had one more day to train, it appeared. Sir Rohan’s second day from the field
was to his own advantage and he’d not waste it. Alastair returned in full armor
on his own charger, lifting his visor to regard him with twinkling eyes.

“I
shall try to go easy on you, my lord.”

Gavin
chuckled and shook his head. “Give me your best, Alastair. We buy time here
with the man’s dereliction. The last thing I need is you being soft on me.”

“That’s
the spirit. Have you asked our fair witch to leave with you yet? You do keep
changing your mind, don’t you?” he asked and Gavin looked away, telling him he
hadn’t without confirmation. “What do you wait for?”

“What
I would offer her is a far cry from what a young woman would wish for, you do
agree? I can hardly see her being overjoyed to be my mistress.”

“It
isn’t like she can be your wife, my lord,” Alastair said and shrugged. “If you
win, you marry Lady Lucinda.”

Gavin
didn’t wish to be reminded and shifted in the saddle. “That’s why I wait. If I
lose; the choice is mine to make once more. Do you think she will be happy to
take a penniless knight?”

Alastair
grinned with pleasure. “So you would offer the girl more if you lose, my lord?”

Gavin
smiled and snapped down his visor. “I offer the lady all should I lose.”

“I
am happy for you either way, my lord, but we very much need to win.”

Gavin
spurred his mount to the other end of the wooden divider. He didn’t want to
think about winning anymore. He was disgusted to want his redheaded witch more
than his title and lands now. He owed it to his family to reclaim all that was
lost. That obligation was now at war with what was in his heart. He could no
longer ignore the fact he had done the unthinkable and fell for his lovely
witch. It confused him, these sudden feelings that burst from nowhere, making
him think of only her.

Just
thinking of never seeing her again made him balk and question the feelings he’d
begun to have. It was more than lust. Though he could hardly recall being so
satisfied with another woman; it was more. Madeline intrigued him, made him
laugh, and made him feel every bit the gallant knight she thought him to be.

Leaving
her was no longer an option, he thought with a smile recalling her passion the
night before. His lusty witch sought him again in the night, her hands and lips
driving him to madness. No, he could no longer think to leave her. She might
rage and argue to be his mistress, but he’d not leave her behind.

She
would come around, he assured himself, but highly doubted it. His little witch
was quite independent. She would see his offer as some affront to her. For that
reason, he stayed silent of it; knowing the battle he faced with her was more
daunting than meeting Sir Rohan on the field.

****

Madeline
chuckled when Henry returned for a water skin and informed her Sir Rohan failed
to report to the jousting field again that day. She was giggling as she went
about her day, knowing the spell must have achieved its purpose. She gave Gavin
one more day to brush up on all his skills before he met his opponent.

BOOK: A Witch's Tale
8.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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