Read Books by Maggie Shayne Online
Authors: Maggie Shayne
But my little cat stood with her face turned up to the snow, and her arms outspread as it fell on her. Turning in a slow circle, she faced me again, a look of wonder in her eyes as her hair grew damp, and crystalline flakes sparkled on her cheeks like tears. Smiling, then laughing aloud, she flung her arms 'round my neck.
"Do you see what we've done!" she cried. "Nicodimus, this is powerful, this magick we work together!"
Her body close to mine, my arms tight 'round her waist, I nodded against her snow-damp hair. "I've never seen the like."
She drew back just a little. Enough so she could look up at me, her face only inches from mine. "The Crones said 'twould be so. They said the power of magick is strongest when there is balance ... between feminine and masculine energies, such as those of a man an' a woman."
"Yes." I nodded my agreement. "I've been taught much the same ... and yet it has never been quite this ... startling."
"Ah, Nicodimus, do you nay ken, even now? 'Tis nay just any combination of man an' woman who could bring about such a force as this. But of you an' me, husband. Two who ... belong to each other."
"Arianna ... I—"
She held up a hand. "I know, dinna speak it. I know you canna love me," she whispered. "An' I've no wish to hurt you. But I know you want me as I do you, Nicodimus. An' I'm tired of protectin' myself from future hurt by re-fusin' to live life. I'm tired of fightin' against feelin's over which I've no control. 'Tis like fightin' against nature."
I stared down at her. She stepped back another pace, and drew the cloak from her shoulders, tossing it to the ground. "I know you canna love me, husband. But I can love you." Her hands went to the shoulders of the tunic, freeing the clasps there, and the dress fell down to her feet as if washed away by the snow. "Let me love you," she whispered. "Just this once..."
I stood staring at her. Perfect, her skin glistening with the snowflakes that drifted down on her. Breasts round and soft, nipples growing stiffer with each icy flake that touched them. She stepped over the discarded dress, closer to me.
And what was I to do? How could I... or any man, resist such an offering? Before I could even consider my answer, my hands were on her, palms skimming over the wet skin of her belly, cupping her breasts, caressing her. I drew her tight to me, and bent my head to capture her mouth. I tasted the snow on her lips, and the warmth beyond them when I pushed my tongue inside. I fed at her mouth as her yearning body pressed against mine, and I dreamed of drinking every melting droplet from her skin. I slid my lips to her cheek and down slowly over her neck. She tipped her head back and moaned softly as I nipped and suckled the tender skin there.
Lower. I licked the beaded moisture from her shoulder. And all the way down her arm to the inner bend of her elbow, and she cried out when my tongue darted over that sensitive flesh. I moved to her hand, sucking the moisture
from each finger, and then kissed a hot path across her belly and began again at her other arm.
She was trembling, clinging to me in order to stay upright when I moved at last to one tender breast. I took my time, circling the peak slowly with my tongue before finally closing my lips on the crest. I drew on her there, and she shivered. I suckled harder, and her fingers curled in my hair. I bit lightly, and she pressed herself closer.
"Nicodimus," she whispered. '"Oh, but you give me such pleasure. An' I... I dinna ken how ..."
I bit again, and this time she tugged against my teeth, whimpering in rapture at the sweet touch of pain. My hand slipped between her legs, and I touched her inner lips, tracing them, feeling the moisture there for me. I drew a forefinger higher, circling the tiny nub that was the key to her pleasure, and then touching it, rubbing it, pinching it so that her knees began to buckle, all the while still feeding at her breast.
My other arm 'round her waist anchored her to me, else she'd have surely fallen to her knees.
"Nay," she whispered, and it was a plea. I pinched her harder, and her voice grew hoarse. "You must tell me what to do, Nicodimus. Tell me how to please you."
I closed my eyes in sweet anguish. "You please me, Arianna, with every breathless whisper, and every sigh and every touch." I slipped my fingers inside her, gently, carefully. "And to see you in the height of pleasure will please me even more."
"Make love to me, Nicodimus," she whispered.
I lifted her then, and carried her to the stone table. My cloak I flung down beneath her, then I lay her upon it. Quickly I took off my clothes until I stood naked in the falling snow. And gently I parted her legs and watched as the snowflakes kissed her secret places. Then I bent to kiss and lick every droplet away until she squirmed and cried out and opened wider to my questing tongue.
I moved upward until I lay atop her, and carefully, I entered her slick, tight passage. The wind swirled icy cold 'round us, and the wet snowflakes fell upon my back. I
moved deeper into her, and still deeper. I felt her pain, brief and sweet as I tore through the barrier of her maidenhood, and I held her still beneath me, waiting, giving her time.
Timidly, hesitantly, she moved her hips against mine, taking me deeper. And again, drawing away and moving once more. Fire licked at my loins, and I took her then. Deep and hard and fast, I took her, and she lifted her hips to meet my every thrust. I kissed her fiercely, swallowing each breathless whisper, each sigh, each moan. And finally, her entire body tensed around me, squeezing and drawing on me, convulsing around me until I felt myself shatter inside her. I pumped my seed into her, and with it, it seemed, my very soul. And then I eased my body down beside hers, and held her, and wondered how I could ever let her go again.
Oh, Gods, she'd done it. She'd made her way into my heart. I knew, with everything in me, she would break it before she was done.
" 'Twas wonderful, Nicodimus. I... thank you."
He sat up slightly, blinking at her in surprise. But then his face changed even as Arianna lay in his arms, feeling more alive than she ever had. He frowned, tilting his head to one side. "What... what is that sound?"
Arianna listened, but heard nothing. "I canna hear—"
"Shh-shh." He held up a hand, sat a bit straighten "Horses. Oh, Gods, battle!" He surged to his feet as Arianna's heart leapt into her throat.
"But Nicodimus, I hear nothing!" Even as she said it, she rushed to retrieve her garments.
"It is yet another part of being immortal, Arianna. The sharpening of the senses ..." He struggled into his own clothing and drew his dagger, then came to stand over her, his eyes alert and scanning the trees around them as she finished dressing. As if he'd protect her should any threat appear.
And that gave her to know he truly believed there was trouble afoot. "Nicodimus ... what is happening?"
He closed his hands around hers and stared intently into her eyes. "I want you to stay here. Right here, Arianna, wrapped in the cloak and concealed amongst the shadows
of these stones. The clouds have covered the moon. If you are still, no one will see you, even should they look, and you will be safe—"
"Nay! I'll nay stay safe while you rush into danger!"
He shook his head firmly. "I must go, little cat, and there's no time to argue with you. The village ... I believe the village is under attack. Joseph and the boys ... Ni-daba—"
"Mam!" she cried. Suddenly it seemed her stomach turned in on itself. For now the sounds were reaching her ears as well, and in the distance, an eerie glow began to reach into the dark sky, despite the falling snow. She screamed aloud, hands pressed to either side of her head as panic took hold of her heart.
"I'll see to your family, I vow it, Arianna. Please, please, remain here, safe."
Trembling from head to toe, she nodded, knowing even as she did so that she lied to her husband. She lied blatantly. For no force on earth could have kept her from her family.
He studied her face for one lingering moment, then drew her dark cloak tight about her, and led her to a shadowy niche between two of the standing stones, where one had toppled slightly and leaned against another. "In here. You'll be all but invisible, in here."
She nodded, eyeing the cavelike space. Then Nicodimus gripped her shoulders and pulled her against him. He kissed her long and hard. "Stay safe," he said, and his tone was one of command. "I'll come back for you."
"Aye, Nicodimus. Go, now. Go do what you must."
With a quick nod, he turned to leave her. But she rushed after him, a sudden knot of cold fear hitting her fiercely in the chest. Flinging her arms around him, she fought to control her sobs. "Oh, my love, please take care. Stay alive, for though I've fought against it I—"
"I know," he said softly, stroking her hair. "I know. Go now, hide and await my return."
She nodded hard, pressed her lips once to his warm neck, then fled to the spot where he had told her to hide. He watched until she had crawled into the darkness between
the stones, and only then did he hurry away.
But the instant Nicodimus was out of her sight, Arianna crept out of her hiding place, and picked her way quickly and silently through the woods, taking the shortest route to the village. And as she went the sounds of battle grew louder. Shouts, screams, thundering hoofbeats. The snap and hiss of fire. The snow fell and fell, and as she finally drew nearer the village, she realized the shouts and cries were coming less and less frequently with each step she ran. Until, only the hoofbeats, and the crackling of flames remained.
What she found when she emerged from the trees made her heart turn to stone.
Cottages burning, flames licking at their thatched roofs, and hissing against the snow; fueled by something that burned despite the wetness from above, but burned more slowly because of it. And as she raced closer, she saw torches born by men on horseback who thundered through the village. Swords and clubs smote the few crofters who ran like frightened animals through the muddy pathways. And when the clouds skittered away from the face of the moon, she saw the bodies, battered and bloodied.
Everywhere.
"Mam? Da?" she whispered. Her own family's cottage stood in the distance. Arianna paused to bend down and scoop up a discarded blade as she moved urgently toward it. Her dagger was at her hip, aye, but she wanted something bigger. The sword hung heavy in her hand, too long for her, its tip dragging through the mud when she stumbled. She expected to be struck down before she reached her parents, and quickened her pace at the thought. But the darkness and her cloak must have been her aids, for none of the rampaging beasts seemed to notice her. Most were far too busy, looting the homes, murdering the few who remained alive, and putting the torch to every building in sight.
She heard a cry from within her parents' house. Her mother's cry ... a cry that was cut off before it ended. With
a growl of absolute fury, she lifted the sword high, raced forward, and burst through the door.
Her mother lay upon the floor, limp, her head bloodied, while a soldier bent over her, tearing at her dress. Without hesitation, Arianna brought the blade flashing down with all her might, aiming for the man's neck.
He cried out only once as his blood shot from his veins, and then he crumbled at her feet, his head tipped at an impossible angle. Arianna stepped over him, giving him not a second look. She rushed to her mother, knelt over her, gripped her shoulders.
"Mam! Mam, 'tis all right. I'm here now an' ... an' ... Mam?" She shook her mother, but saw now what she'd failed to see before. Or refused to. The once bright eyes were already filmed over by the glaze of death. Staring sightlessly, their light forever extinguished. "Nay!" Arianna cried. "Nay, this canna be!"
Rising to her feet, she backed away, turning her gaze from the sight of her mother there on the floor, only to see her father lying still in a corner, a dagger in his belly, a pool of blood around him.
Arianna's head began to spin. She did not want to believe any of this, for it could not be real. She had barely survived losing her sister, but to lose her parents, too, and just when they'd begun to mend the rift between them? Nay, 'twas too much to bear.
She lifted her head to gaze into the dark, snow-damp night, and saw the herd of swine who had brought this destruction upon her people, her family, her clan. Looking down once again at the sword in her hand, she muttered, "I will kill them. Aye, I'll kill them all!"
In a fury she raced into the wet snow, bare feet slapping through the mud, as she attacked one man after another. Her rage drove her, gave her strength. She killed more than she could count. Until at last, when she lifted the blade high above her head about to bring it down on another of them, she felt her body pierced from behind, and went still, her mouth agape, eyes bulging. Looking down, she saw the point of a blade protruding from her belly, blood flowing
to soak the white tunic dress she'd worn to please Nicod-imus.
Nicodimus. Gods, where was he? Where on earth was he?
She dropped to her knees, and knew death would come soon to claim her. So be it, then. 'Twas preferable to going on, dealing with such a crippling loss. No one left to her but a husband who could never love her. A husband who would leave her in the end just as Raven, her sister had done. Just as her beloved teachers and her parents had each done in turn. She would lose him. She had lost them all.
Better than living, was dying just now. Better than living ...
Arianna fell, facedown in the mud—never having glimpsed the face of the man who had killed her.
I never should have left her alone. It was a mistake that led to my destruction, and for it I take full blame. Things may well have ended differently had I kept my promise to protect her family. But those promises were words I never should have spoken, wrenched from me without forethought, and my judgment was poor. I wanted only to comfort her, to take away the pain I saw in her soft brown eyes. To take away the fear. To be her hero, I suppose. Foolish. Foolish to make promises I could not keep simply because I loved the girl.
Yes, it was true. I loved her. In spite of my best efforts not to. Arianna had conquered me. I hated the feeling, the vulnerability it created in me. And yet it was that feeling that drove me to protect her and all those she cared about. A feeling that made me willing to face battle—to face anything at all—for her.
So I spied the flames, heard the thundering beats of hooves, and knew the village and clan were under attack by a large number of soldiers, whose motives I could not imagine. But I simply knew that this was no ordinary raid. I raced to the keep for weapons, and to stir Joseph and his sons in case they remained asleep and unaware. Every man
in the household would be needed to defend the village. Every last one.
I broke from the woods, and raced across the moor, up the hill to the front gates, my lungs burning, my body alive with immortal power.
It was only when I found the gates flung open that I slowed, and took more careful stock of things.
The huge wooden door leading into the great hall was not open, but lying flat—a battering ram made of half a tree trunk dropped upon it. And from the gaping, dark windows, thin spirals of smoke whispered forth.
"Nidaba," I whispered. "Joseph ..."
Forcing myself to pause, to take care, I slipped inside, keeping to the shadows. The intruders were long gone, now. But everywhere I looked were signs of their carnage: broken bodies were strewn on the rushes, slaughtered like sheep. I found Joseph at the base of the stone stairs, still in his nightclothes. His neck broken. His sons had never even made it out of their chambers. Both of them lay dead within. And of Nidaba ... of Nidaba there was no sign.
My heart clenched and my blood boiled. Damn these bastards, whosver they were! Attacking a peace-loving clan, murdering Joseph, a man who had shown nothing but kindness and understanding to all who'd known him. My friend. He had been my friend, and one of the few I still possessed.
But I had no time to mourn, nor even to bury him. Kicking open the bolted door of the weapons room, wondering why the invaders had not bothered to loot it to the bare walls, I snatched a sword and scabbard and belted them in place. Ignoring the rest, for I'd no need of maces nor shields nor crossbows, I strode quickly outside again, needing the air to cleanse the stench of spilled blood from my lungs.
Glancing toward the stables, I saw the tongues of flame beginning to lick up the sides. No doubt the straw and hay inside had been smoldering even before I had arrived. The doors stood closed up tight, as if the bastards had not even bothered to steal the horses, but simply wanted to destroy them. Destroy everything associated with this clan.
Gods, who could have cause to hate the clan so much?
I ran. yanking the stable doors open, and in only seconds, managed to send several horses galloping to safety with no more than a slap of my hand. The last few were panicked by the flames, and I had no time to lead them free one by one. Not when Mara and Edwyn were in their cottage at the mercy of the attackers. I gripped Black and leapt upon him without benefit of saddle or rein. He obeyed as easily as he always had, and leapt free of the burning building with barely a flick of his eye. He'd seen fire before, Black had. The stallion knew no fear.
Leaning low, I kicked him into motion, and we sailed through the night, pounding ever nearer the village, but my heart sank as I saw the yellow glow battling the snow-drenched darkness, and I whispered the names of my wife's parents as I raced closer. I drew my sword, rounded a bend in the road, and then tugged Black to a halt as I saw the destruction. The death all 'round me. The ruin. There was nothing left. Nothing.
And the soldiers were gone. They had rained terror and destruction down upon an unsuspecting, peaceful clan, and then left just as quickly as possible. Tears burned in my eyes as I moved closer to the saddle maker's cottage. Because there was no hint of life from within. No one moved or breathed. I heard no tears, no cries for help, though the thatched roof was already alight with flame. No moans of pain. I knew death, and this was it. I felt it in the very night, heightening my awareness with every wet snowy droplet that struck my skin. I was the only man alive here.
Black halted in front of Arianna's former home, and I dismounted slowly. My boots sticking in the blood-soaked mud, I stepped inside. And then I felt the pain rip through roe as I saw them. Mara, her head caved in. Edwyn with a mortal blade wound to the gut. And in the corner... who was that?
A soldier, one of the attackers, his head nearly severed. Someone had fought back then. Tried to help. But too late, too late.
My eyes burned with unshed tears as I thought of telling
Arianna that her beloved parents had been brutally killed. I had been unable to tell her the truth about her own nature, to spare her the pain of knowing she would one day outlive all those she loved. But now that day had come all the same, and there was no way I could spare her this. No way.
And I'd promised her. I had
promised her
that I would protect them.
"I'm sorry, Arianna," I whispered. "Damnation, if I had only come here sooner. If I had only ..." But I shook my head, for my words and my regrets could not change what had befallen her family tonight.
Edwyn... he had been as kind to me as if I were his own son. And Mara ... I recalled her smiling face, the reborn joy in her eyes as she and her firstborn had found each other again.
Gone, now, both of them. Their precious lives snuffed out without a care, without a cause.
My every instinct told me to go after the vermin who had wreaked such tragedy on Stonehaven. They had headed north, and their trail—the hoofmarks of so many horses— would be easily followed. But I needed to return to the Stone Circle, to Arianna. Thank the Fates, I thought, that I had left her there. The soldiers had headed in the opposite direction. She was safe. They would pass nowhere near her.