Dragonblade Trilogy - 01 - Dragonblade (25 page)

He lifted himself back
up so that he was face to face with her, his enormous body atop her slender
one. His mouth fused with her lips, once again tasting the honeyed tongue that
had driven him mad with desire. Toby grunted when his weight came down on her,
instinctively parting her legs so that a good portion of his weight slipped
onto the mattress below them. Tate felt her legs part for him and he was lost;
he knew what he was about to do and he furthermore knew that he shouldn’t.  But
what he felt for this woman overtook him until he could think of nothing else.
He knew he was in love with her; he’d known that for a while. But he could not
bring himself to verbalize it. He realized that his body was about to say it
for him and he could not stop it. He did not want to stop it. He wanted her.

He pushed into her
gently, swallowing her gasps of surprise with his amorous kisses. He withdrew
and thrust again, pushing further into her tender body and feeling her tense
beneath him. He kept his kisses warm and insistent, hoping to relax her as his
arms wrapped tightly around her body.  When he withdrew a third time and thrust
once more, he slid into her wet folds with a great deal of ease. Another thrust
and he was seated to the hilt.  A ragged sigh came from his lips as he savored
that moment, the joining of their flesh. The feel of her fed him like nothing
he had ever known.

He withdrew fully and
thrust again and he could hear Toby panting. But she was no longer tense; in
fact, he could feel her sweet body relaxing beneath him. His hands began to
move, roving her torso, into her hair, against her breast as he thrust again
and again, gently at first but increasing in power and passion. He moved into
her, against her, feeling her body as it began to respond to his onslaught.
More thrusts, more friction, and Toby was moving with him, gasping softly with
ecstasy. Her legs wrapped around his hips and he held her buttocks tightly, his
pelvis against her, his thrusts powerful and measured, her hips responding in
rhythm.

Tate’s mind was
consumed with a white sort of fire that seemed to be filled with Toby’s light.
He could see her nude outline in the weak light, the flare of her hips and the
ripe swell of her breasts. His lips continued to kiss her passionately as his
body thrust into her again and again, feeling himself approach complete
fulfillment and not wanting to see the glory end so quickly. It was one of the
most powerful emotional moments of his life, coupling with this woman that had
quickly come to mean so very much to him. He thrust into her hard enough to
rattle her teeth, grinding his pelvis against her Venus Mound and acutely aware
when her slick walls began to tighten around him. He held her tightly as she
experienced her first release, listening to her weep with joy as he took his
own.   

As fast as the storm
rose, it banked swiftly but did not die completely. Tate continued to move
within her long after their passionate climaxed, still wanting to be a part of
the woman as he had never been a part of any other. When the gasping and
heaving died away, she fell asleep in his embrace and he succumbed shortly
after. 

They slept deep into
the night, the best night’s sleep either one of them could ever recall.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It was just before
dawn as Tate made his way out of the keep and headed towards the building that
housed the knights; he was going with a particular purpose in mind. Having just
left Toby sleeping soundly, he was determined to find Stephen and clear the air
between them. But his thoughts inevitably kept drifting back to Toby, her
delicious body in his arms and the myriad of emotions that continued to assault
him.

It was true; he felt
as if he was suffering a gentle onslaught of emotions that he never believed
himself capable of. It was something terrifying and wonderful, something that
caused him to lose control as if he was a weakling. Whatever power Toby had
over him, it was stronger than all of the might he had ever faced. All she had
to do was give him a word, a look, and he surrendered like a fool.

But he had to get a
grip on himself as much as he was able to. The first step would be to
straighten out whatever odd situation had evolved between him and Stephen. And
the second would be to determine the next course of action with Mortimer on
their heels. Still, thoughts of Toby filled his mind and it was an effort to
concentrate on issues that he knew must be the priority.

The knight’s quarters
was a stone building built against the side of the outer wall.  It was a badly
lit structure with small, cell-like chambers. Tate entered the building and
into a small common room with a muted fire burning in the hearth. He’d barely
closed the door when one of the cell doors flew open and Kenneth appeared with
a sword in his hand. When he saw it was Tate, he lowered the weapon.

“’Tis you,” he
muttered.

“Aye, it’s me,” Tate
replied. “Where’s Stephen?”

Kenneth yawned,
tossing the sword back onto his bed. “He relieved me upon the battlements about
an hour ago.”

Tate turned for the
door but Kenneth stopped him. “Is something amiss?” he asked.

Tate paused after
opening the panel. “Nay,” he said after a moment. “I simply must speak with
him.”

Kenneth wisely kept
his mouth shut, suspecting that whatever it was did not involve him. If it was
a private conversation between Tate and Stephen, there was little doubt as to
the subject. As Tate shut the door behind him, Kenneth wondered if he should
follow to make sure there was no bloodshed with the undoubtedly volatile
subject. On second thought, however, he decided to stay his course and simply
remain an uninvolved bystander.  With a woman involved, it was the safest
course to take. Or so he believed.

Tate mounted the steep
stairs to the battlements of the gatehouse, his trained gaze moving over the
cold and dark landscape, searching for anything out of the ordinary. With a
gaping hole where the main gates used to be, he was particularly on edge even
though there were thirty soldiers patrolling the gap. A loop half-way around
the wall walk brought him right to Stephen.

The big knight was on
the west wall, in quiet conversation with one of the knight’s from Warkworth.
The bulk of their army had remained, at least until the gates were repaired, so
several hundred soldiers and a few knights lingered. When Stephen saw Tate, he
excused himself from the conversation and went to his liege.

“Nothing to report, my
lord,” he said. “All remains quiet.”

Tate nodded, his dark
gaze moving over the pre-dawn landscape once more. “Very well,” he replied.
Then he continued to stand there, gazing over the view but not really seeing
it. Stephen stood beside him silently, vigilantly, as he always had. Tate
finally crossed his arms and emitted a heavy sigh.

“Stephen, I must ask
you something,” he said.

“Of course, my lord.”

“You and I have long
been friends, have we not?”

Stephen nodded slowly.
“It has been my honor.”

“We have seen much of
life and death together.”

“Indeed we have.”

“I consider you one of
the finest men I have ever served with.”

“A true privilege, my
lord.”

Tate turned to look at
him. “I would not want anything to ruin that.”

Stephen returned his
gaze. “Nor would I.”

Tate cleared his
throat, a waiver in his confidence. “I find that I must be honest with you,
Stephen. I suppose I should have been from the onset but I was unsure how to go
about it.”

“Speak your mind, my
lord.”

Tate lifted his
eyebrows with some hesitation. “I am attempting to,” he cleared his throat
again. “You were with me when Catherine died.”

Stephen’s expression
visibly eased. “Aye, my lord. I was there.”

Tate was having
difficulty looking at him. “I was positive that I would never recover from it.
But it seems that I was wrong.”

Stephen could see
where this was leading; he’d known it from the start. It was only a matter of
time before Tate confronted him about the situation with Toby. After the gift
of the kitten earlier, it was expected. There was no point in dancing around
the subject as Tate was doing so he cleared his throat, averting his gaze.

“In truth, my lord, I
never had a chance,” he said quietly. “She has eyes only for you.”

Tate stopped fidgeting
and looked at him. “What?”

Stephen’s gaze moved
to the landscape beyond the walls. “Mistress Toby,” he clarified. “She has eyes
only for you. I suppose it was my pride that caused me to see only what I
wanted to see. I knew you were growing fond of her as I was. I thought I could
win her over but I was wrong.”

Tate stared at him. “I
remember back in Cartingdon when Kenneth jested with you about marrying her and
ruling the town. Do you recall?”

Stephen nodded “I do.”

“You clearly showed no
interest.”

“I had none at the
time.”

“What changed your mind?”
“What changed yours?”

They gazed at each
other for a moment before breaking into soft laughter. It was a welcome moment
in a situation that could have quite easily gone the other way. As small as the
gesture was, it was a relief, a moment between friends that signaled things
were righting themselves. Tate finally shook his head.

“I have no idea,” he
muttered.  “All I know is that day we ventured into the mist to inspect sheep,
something inside me changed.  The woman already has unearthly beauty but that
day, I saw incredible strength in her as well. Beyond that, I cannot explain
more. All I know is that I see a chance for happiness with her again and I will
take it. The woman is coming to mean a great deal to me.”

Stephen’s cornflower
blue gaze lingered on him a moment. “Do you love her?”

Tate looked at him as
if surprised by the question. He was about to deny it but found, in his heart,
that he could not. He averted his gaze as if suddenly defeated, unable to
muster the strength to deny the obvious. “I believe that I do.”

“Have you told her?”

“Nay.”

“You should, you know.
She loves you as well.”

Tate looked at him
again. “How would you know that?”

Stephen’s eyes glimmered. “I do not for sure.
But if she looked at me the way she looks at you, then I would know that she
loves me.”
      Tate felt strangely empowered by that statement, as if his heart suddenly
sprouted wings. It felt light, happy. “If that is true, then I am indeed
blessed,” he said, turning to look Stephen fully in the face. “But I am deeply
sorry if my relationship with her affects our friendship.”

Stephen’s gaze
lingered on him. “It does not,” he said quietly. “It would take much more than
that to destroy the trust that you and I have achieved over the years.”

Tate puffed out his cheeks
with relief. “I had hoped so but in truth I was not sure.  When a woman is
involved, things can go very badly.”

“We are better than
that, my lord.”

“I hoped so.”

“Besides that, we have
more pressing matters to focus on.”

“Indeed we do.”

“There are the missing
gates, the threat of a Mortimer counter-attack, and our imminent trip to London
which has thus far been delayed.”

Tate nodded faintly,
thinking of the priorities that had faced him two days ago were now becoming
sidelined by his growing involvement with Toby. But Stephen was correct; there
were more pressing matters that must be the priority. It was a struggle for
Tate to refocus on something other than Toby.

The silence between
them settled, though not uncomfortable. Tate had said what he had meant to say
and Stephen had conceded. More than that, there was a clear understanding now.
They both felt relieved by it.

“Congratulations on
your betrothal, by the way,” Stephen finally said. “May you have much joy in
this marriage.”

“Thank you.”

“There is one more
thing, however.”

“What is that?
Stephen turned to look at him, an intense look to his eye. “Should anything
ever happen to you, know that I will take very good care of your widow.”

Tate’s eyes widened.
Then, he burst out giggling like a fool. Stephen tried to hold back the
chuckles but soon he was roaring with laughter. After a few moments of
uncharacteristic snorting, Stephen sobered with dramatic speed and wiped the
smile from his face.

“I am serious.”

Tate abruptly stopped
laughing and gawked at him in outrage. He balled up a fist and took a swing at
Stephen’s jaw, but in the process burst into more laughter and ended up almost
falling over the parapet when Stephen side-stepped the blow. Hooting and
snorting, the two of them made their way back towards the gatehouse as the sun
began to rise in the distant east. But the laughter soon turned to conversation
and by the time they hit the gatehouse, they were already discussing the
priorities of the coming day. It was as if no contention had ever been.