A Witch's Tale (20 page)

She
fed the two rats and despaired of their fate. Her departure loomed ahead of
her. She was nowhere near to reversing the spell. She would have to let them go
and hope for the best. Just the thought of one of them being a meal for a
predator made her question her own soft feelings.

Both
men meant to see her dead a fortnight ago. Hugh’s disgusting actions that day
and his father’s intent to join him at it made her question why she cared. The
two men got what they deserved, whether it was by her hand or not. She tried to
feel better for it but knew her magic wasn’t meant to be used in such a way.

The
Goddess could turn her magic against her now if displeased. Thinking about what
she did to Sir Rohan and Lady Blythe made her more than a little nervous. That
certainly wasn’t called for, despite what the pair intended for Gavin. It was
obvious Strathmore sought to discredit Gavin through fair means or foul.

She
washed up and contemplated her day with a mischievous look in her eyes. With
Sir Rohan out of the way for the day, she could watch Gavin and Alastair
practice. That should prove entertaining. She changed back into the boy’s
clothes before she changed her mind. She hurried to the tiltyards, anxious to
see her knight compete. Her eyes were bright and filled with excitement as she
crept behind the stands, finding a decent place to watch.

 She
found watching exhilarating, seeing Alastair and Gavin’s lances glancing off
one another with a worried lip and clenched hands. She nearly cheered to see
Alastair fly off his mount finally and land in the dirt until she remembered
she quite liked the knight.

Gavin
was gaining much more skill and confidence by Rohan’s absence these last two
days. She prayed it was enough as she watched them continue. Her eyes went to
the king’s box, empty except for a handful of courtiers and a few ladies. Her
eyes narrowed as she wondered which one was Lady Lucinda.

The
thought of losing her knight to the unknown woman made her gnash her teeth and
feel as evil as witches were thought to be. She knew these thoughts were misplaced.
Just because she made the mistake of falling in love with her knight didn’t
mean he was supposed to throw his future away on a common born witch.

She
loved him and knew letting him go was for the best. Still, for the first time
in her life she wished some bit of magic could change all for them both. Tears
filled her gaze and she refused to let them fall, recalling Minerva’s words of
wisdom. The old woman told her losing one’s heart clouded their judgment, made
them weak. She knew that feeling only too well of late.

Gavin
was all she could ever want in a man and he couldn’t be hers. Now she went
against the Goddess by using her magic to keep him enthralled. Minerva was no
doubt clucking in disgust from beyond to know all her teachings went to the
wayside the minute she met the man.

****

Madeline
bought supplies from a merchant within the festival and returned early. She
heard arguing within the tent as she approached. She hesitated at the entrance
to listen.

“What
happened to your desire to offer her all should you lose?” Alastair asked
bitterly. “Now you would go back on your words again and leave her here. Might
I ask why you’ve had this sudden change of heart, my lord?”

“Why
do you care so much? She has gone to my bed for the fortnight. It’s near its end.
Should we lose, I’ll no doubt have to marry for wealth or we don’t make it
through the winter,” Gavin told him grimly. “Those are the realities should I
lose, not marrying a penniless girl.”

Madeline’s
heart clenched to hear the spell had worn off in her absence, a reminder what
was between them was very much contrived. It hurt to hear him speak so
callously, as if he didn’t care. Her eyes burned to know he didn’t. The spell
was more for her benefit now. To help her get past the alarming truth of what
she was to him. Her pride refused to allow her to feel like a whore. Making him
love her made it more meaningful and acceptable. Hearing him say such things
hurt more than she could bear.

“I
thought you’d begun to care for her,” Alastair said and made a noise of
disgust. “She is nothing at all to you, is she?”

“I’ve
enjoyed her, I’ll not lie,” Gavin admitted and sighed. “You cannot confuse
passion for what it is, my friend. No, when we leave, Madeline will be given a
purse of coins and sent on her way. I doubt Lady Lucinda would appreciate my
bringing her along should I win. What would Vivienne say should I bring my
tournament entertainment home with me if I lose?”

“Leave
your sister out of this,” Alastair snapped. “She would be appalled you’ve used
the girl so shamelessly. You knew she believed in this witches code and you
played along for your own selfish pleasure.”

“You
don’t actually believe in this nonsense of hers?”

“I
have the sensitivity to know she does,” Alastair said coldly. “It appears you
have played her like your court whores, my lord. Even they were treated better
than this.”

“Madeline
has pleased me greatly. I don’t intend to leave her here penniless. Leave it
alone, Alastair,” Gavin said with a sigh. “We both know I have no choice in
this.”

She
couldn’t stand to hear any more. She turned and walked blindly back towards the
thoroughfare, tears blinding her gaze. What had she expected? She’d forgotten
to extend the spell. It wore off. Why was she surprised he still thought no
more for her than when they arrived? It hurt and she deserved every bit of it
for putting the spell on him to begin with.

Madeline
walked around until she composed herself to return. She set about putting away
the supplies, unable to meet both men’s eyes when she entered the tent.
Alastair looked at her with compassion before he took his leave.

Gavin
smiled at her and came near, kissing her neck. She pulled away, unable to let
him touch her after what she heard, feeling sick to know some truths could no
longer be avoided.

“What
is it?” he asked, frowning slightly, his green eyes filled with annoyance.

“I’m
not feeling well,” she said quietly and knew she didn’t lie. She felt sick to
know she brought all of this upon herself by putting spells upon him,
substituting them for real feelings.

“You
have time to lie down. The men wish to go to the drinking tent,” he said and
gazed down at her in concern. “We have heard talk of the sickness in the city.
Perhaps you should take something in your bag.”

Madeline
felt like she would burst into tears if he continued to act like he cared about
her welfare. Her nerves were so raw she could hardly stand to be near him. She
couldn’t meet his gaze as she sat on the bed and petted Gerwin.

“I
think a bit of rest might help,” she allowed without looking at him. “Do you go
with them?”

“I
can hardly refuse,” he told her with an apologetic tone. “It is the last night
and the men wish to celebrate.”

Madeline
nodded, feeling miserable as he left the tent. Tears streamed down her cheeks
to see the man she loved vanish before her eyes as if he’d never been there.
She had no cause to feel this hurt. She brought all upon herself. Still,
knowing how it felt to be loved by him made it hard to stop. She set the spell
before his return; knowing what she was doing was more than pathetic. When he
joined her in the bed later, his lips seeking hers, whispering of his love, her
heart felt broken for the second time that day.

****

Madeline
felt the charge in the air that morning she woke. Gavin was quiet as he
dressed. She helped him, her hands trembling as she helped him with his
fastenings. It was well before dawn. They didn’t speak for a time. She knew he
felt enormous pressure and she didn’t want to add to it.

She
recalled the gift she made for him the day before. Intrigued by the lady’s
favors the other knight’s sported upon their lances gave her an idea. No
wilting nosegay or bit of ribbon for her knight. She’d put a bona fide spell of
strength and endurance, tempered with speed and accuracy.

“I
have something for you,” she told him. She followed him to the horse’s
enclosure where Henry and Gaston waited with his gear.

Gavin
smiled down at her gently, his gauntleted hand touching her cheek softly. “What
have you for me, sweet witch? The fairness of your company these last weeks is
more than any man could ask for.”

“Sir
Alastair informed me a knight requires a lady’s favor to ride upon his lance
for luck. I have made you one of these.”

Henry
and Gaston smiled as she held it up for Gavin’s inspection.

Gavin
frowned at the sight of it, sniffing and making a face. “What in God’s name is
that foul thing?”

Madeline
scowled at his words as she went to Gaston and tied it upon his lance, fuming
at his reaction to her favor. “You would do well to ignore its stench and
appreciate its properties.”

“What
properties are those? It smells like a dead thing! I will vanquish Sir Rohan
should he take a whiff of it, no doubt.”

Madeline
glared at his sarcastic comments and tossed her head. “Well, you are right of
it. It is dead. I don’t think I shall tell you what it is now. You are being
ungrateful for my efforts. I have given you a fine favor!”

Gaston
and Henry chuckled to see her outrage. Gavin saw he upset her with his ridicule
and rushed to assure her that her favor was more than acceptable; though he
cringed to think of the mockery said favor would draw.

“The
favor is quite…unusual, but it is for luck,” he allowed and grimaced as he
caught another whiff of it. “I thank you for your efforts, Madeline, now kiss
me and quit frowning at me so darkly. Alastair will collect you before the
match begins.”

Madeline
sighed as he bent his head and brushed her lips with his, sighing as she
watched him go, waving at Gaston and Henry as they followed carrying his gear.
The sun was just coming up when she returned to their tent.

She
removed a newly altered gown from Lord Lyon’s chest. It was a lovely silk gown
the color of fresh mint. The underskirts were voluminous and after she took the
gaudy trim off it the affect was quite startling. She hung it to allow the
wrinkles to fall out of it and thought of the day ahead, her heart hammering in
her chest. She uttered prayers to the Goddess all night and morning in hopes
Gavin would win. She dearly prayed what little interference she’d run with her
magic afforded him the edge he needed against Sir Rohan.

She
smiled as she thought of how the man spent the previous day and chuckled. No
doubt he and Lady Strathmore spent enough time together to last them both a
lifetime. She couldn’t resist walking by Lady Strathmore’s tent to see it
guarded fastidiously by her servants. Giggles escaped her to think of the
couple’s discomfort within.

Her
smile faded to recall the fierce attraction she felt to Sir Rohan. The memory
of the passionate encounter was hardly forgotten, but a reminder of Minerva’s
warnings to avoid dealing with men at all. The blond knight thought nothing of
having his way with her. She nearly allowed it. Her mortification was to have
hesitated those few minutes as he kissed her and touched her, feeling shame to
know she wanted him. She told herself she was just curious, but she knew it was
far more.

In
another day, she would be on her way to another village to start her life anew.
She would never see these people again. A pang of regret filled her to think of
never seeing Gavin again.

He
didn’t speak of her leaving and she didn’t bring it up. Thoughts of him taking
her with him were dismissed. She refused to stay with him under such
circumstances, thinking of her mother’s life. No, she’d not share Gavin with a
wife. When he left her, she’d make her own way once more.

The
baron’s gold once now reminded her she had yet to discover their purpose at the
festival, despite them telling her they looked for her. The man had his whole
fortune on his person. She suspected he was there for an entirely different
reason. She cursed being unable to change them back to learn what it was.

Even
if Gavin lost today, he would not go back to his keep empty handed. The fortune
in gold would keep him and the men in good stead, give his sister the dowry he
could not. It was her gift to him regardless if he won. She’d not see him have
to marry for wealth. Where she went, she didn’t need much in the way of gold.

What
little she took would buy her another cottage to set up shop. The villagers
there would no doubt barter for her services and she would live as comfortably
as she had at Valmont. Thoughts of how lonely she would be made her ache now.

Gavin
needed her to cheer for him today, not join the crowd in the stands with a long
face. She would sit with his men and show her support without letting him see
how his winning would torment her.

She
went to feed the cook fire and refused to dwell upon her misery to be leaving.
She sensed a presence. She gasped as she saw Sir Rohan approach. He gazed at
her without expression as she straightened at the fire, eyes wide to see him in
his gleaming armor. He looked so handsome she recoiled, recalling their torrid
encounter.