Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (31 page)

Truer words were never spoken.
Grendel was a pawn in a much larger game, starting when the de Gaul took him
from St. Wenburgh. But he thought, upon reflection, that perhaps this is where
God wanted him to be. Perhaps this was where he was needed, though he couldn’t
imagine how.  Reluctantly, he picked up the sword and held it clumsily. He
didn’t like knives. Frightened of what was about to happen, he followed the men
inside.

It was near the nooning meal. The
great tavern room with its high ceiling was already clouded with smoke from the
massive hearth. It smelt of old ale and urine, and the room was moderately
crowded.  Kenneth hadn’t taken two steps inside when he heard a familiar voice.

“Ken!”

He whirled to find Everett and
Reid, up from their table, moving towards him.  He took three enormous strides
and grabbed Everett by the collar.

“Aubrielle,” he barked. “Have you
found her?”

It was a hostile move, but
Everett didn’t back away. He could only imagine the extent of Kenneth’s turmoil,
as evidenced by his very appearance. By all rights, the man shouldn’t even be
out of bed much less functioning normally. Though he was pale, he still looked
every inch the man with the terrifying reputation.

“’Tis good to see you, too,”
Everett lifted an eyebrow. “And before you can take my head off, you should
know that we were returning to Kirk to tell you the news.”

Kenneth didn’t realize that he
was nearly choking him with his grasp. “What news?”

It took both Everett and Bradley
to peel Kenneth’s hand off of the tunic. They both knew how strung-out the man
was, and Everett wouldn’t let him continue any longer with his anguish.

“Follow me,” he said with a
smile.

Kenneth truly had no idea what he
was about to face, but he suspect that Everett and Reid had somehow cornered Aubrielle
and her captors. His big body stiffened, preparing for the battle that was
surely to come.

“How many of them are there?” he
asked.

Everett was leading him up the
stairs to the second floor of the inn. “Just one.”

“One?” Kenneth repeated. “Christ,
he must have Aubrielle in a precarious position. Is he heavily armed?”

“There are no weapons at all.”

They were on the corridor of the
second floor. There were three doors; two on the left and one on the right.
Everett walked up to the door on the right and put his hand on the old iron
latch.

“Perhaps you would like to take
care of this personally.”

He opened the door and stood
back. Kenneth, his jaw set for battle, held his massive sword in a defensive
position as he moved into the doorway.  The oilcloths on the windows were
drawn, giving the light that filtered in to the room an amber-hue. His trained
eyes assessed the room in an instant; a table to the left and a large, lumpy
bed about fifteen feet in front of him.  Other than the furniture, there was
nothing, and no one, in the room.

He looked at Everett, bewildered
and frustrated.  Everett merely smiled. “Look in the bed, Ken.”

Kenneth’s head snapped to the
massive oak frame, shoved up against the wall. It occurred to him that within
the lumps, there was something rhythmically breathing.  He could see it rise
and fall. Carefully, he entered the room, his weapon still leveled. When he
reached the bed, he lowered his weapon and very cautiously pulled back the
coverlet.

A familiar dark head greeted him.
Aubrielle was sleeping like the dead, lying on her stomach with her face shoved
into the pillow. Kenneth stood there a moment, disbelieving of what he was
seeing. He had expected, at the very least, an enemy assault and strong
resistance. But there was none. Aubrielle was asleep, quite alone, seemingly
whole and sound. It all began to sink in.

He almost dropped his sword, but
he managed to somehow hand it off to the nearby table. He didn’t want to wake
her, but his entire body screamed to hold her. He simply couldn’t believe his
eyes.

An enormous hand gently touched
her sleeping head, moving the hair aside to gain a better look at her. She was
rosy and peaceful.  He took his hand away, realizing it was shaking.

“Where did you find her?” he
whispered to Everett.

Everett was standing just inside
the door; Bradley and Reid were behind him, all trying to gain a look at the
lady.

“We found her abductors two days
ago outside of Bristol,” Everett was trying to keep his voice down as not to
wake her. “Those we did not kill ran off. It was not much of a fight, certainly
not what we had anticipated.”

“Did you capture any?”

“There was no point, Ken. We had Aubrielle.
I was only concerned with regaining her and taking her to safety.”

Kenneth didn’t know what to say.
There were so many emotions rolling around in his head that it was difficult to
define only one. As the door to the chamber closed softly behind him, he took a
knee beside the bed, saying a prayer of thanks for her safe return.  Eyes closed
and head lowered, he was deep in the most heart-felt meditation he had ever
given when he felt something on the top of his head.

Surprised, he looked up to see a
sleepy face smiling back at him. Aubrielle’s fingers were ticking the top of
his cropped blond hair.  When their eyes met, Kenneth’s response was to smile
as broadly as she was. In that brief, warm instant, all of the words created by
all of the poets in the world could not have adequately described the beauty of
the moment.

“Greetings, my lady,” he finally
murmured. “Did you sleep well?”

She continued to run her fingers
along the top of his head, moving down the side of his face as if trying to
convince herself that he wasn’t a dream.

“The last time I saw you, there
were arrows sticking out of your back,” she whispered. “Are you real or are you
a ghost?”

His response was to kiss her hand
reverently, inhaling the scent of her skin. “I am real enough,” he said. “When
I saw you lying here, I thought the same thing of you.”

Aubrielle reached out and wrapped
her arms fiercely around his neck. Kenneth enveloped her in his arms, all of
the fear and terror over the past few weeks dissolving in an instant. When he
felt her sobs against him, it confirmed to him that she was not a dream. Up
until that moment he’d had his doubts. She was real and alive and well in his
arms. He’d never been more appreciative for anything in his life.

Aubrielle pulled him over onto
the bed. Their kisses of relief, of joy, were feverish and deep. There were
tears on her face and he kissed them away. His gloved hands entangled
themselves in her hair and he paused long enough to rip off the gauntlets and
throw them to the floor. The plate armor quickly followed.

The kisses stopped as Aubrielle
unlatched his breastplate and let it slip to the floor. She needed to feel him
against her and not a cold piece of metal. More heated kisses came in between
unlatching his greaves and unstrapping his scabbard. Aubrielle pulled his
hauberk over his head, the heavy mail coat that he wore underneath the plate. 
When all of the metal was off his body, she pushed him to sit on the bed and
straddled his lap.

They gazed at each other a long,
heated moment, reacquainting themselves with one another. Then tongues plunged
deep and Kenneth tasted her delicious mouth over and over.  His hands moved
down her back, across her belly and to her full breasts.  Then they moved up to
her neck, touching the softness of her skin, cupping the sweet shape of her
face.  Aubrielle was still weeping silently and he shushed her in between
kisses, assuring her that all was well now. He kissed her hands and fingers,
murmuring into her flesh how very much he loved her.

They were functioning on instinct
as well as desire. Kenneth pulled his padded tunic off, exposing his broad chest.
Aubrielle ran her fingers across his skin, feeling the soft, crunchy carpet of
hair.  She had given up the yellow brocade dress for a bath the night before
and wore a shift of coarse linen that the innkeeper’s wife had found for her.
Kenneth removed it, kissing every inch of flesh that was exposed until the
garment found its way off her supple body.

Aubrielle was nude but unaware of
any shame.  She was only aware of the joy in her heart, of Kenneth alive and
well before her.  He took her by the waist and lay her gently upon the
mattress. Removing his breeches, he lay down next to her.

Kenneth stroked her cheek before
moving to cover her with his massive body, aware of the pain in his back as he
did so. It reminded him of the time he came so close to losing her, making this
conquest particularly sweet.  He resumed his heated kisses, his hands on her
silky flesh, moving to stroke the sensitive place between her legs. He didn’t
waste any time. Now was the time to claim this woman in every way possible. Aubrielle
shuddered at his touch, surprised at the newness, the boldness. 

When he gently thrust a finger
into her warm, wet recesses, she gasped with pleasure. Aubrielle had never
known the touch of a man until she met Kenneth and had no idea what to expect.
All she knew was that everything he did set her senses afire.  A single touch
from his hand brought about a thousand pinpricks of delight. She had been so
terrified that she had lost him, and now in this moment of intimacy, she could
not imagine going on without this man. More than the physicality of it, there
was an emotional bond that was stronger than life itself.  Her body trembled at
the splendor of it.

Her thighs parted naturally for
him, settling his substantial weight between them. When his stiff arousal
pushed into her, Aubrielle didn’t wince.  Kenneth was very tender.  He worked
her gently, stimulating her natural juices, sliding deeper and deeper into her
until he was fully seated.  His mouth continued to suckle her lips and tongue,
feeding the fire of desire burning brightly between them.  When he began to
move, gaining rhythm, Aubrielle wrapped herself around him, feeling every
stroke against her virgin walls.

Her arms held him tightly and her
fingers found the angry wounds on his shoulder. The flesh was hot and puckered,
and she immediately drew her hand back. When she opened her mouth to apologize,
he kissed her so deeply that she forgot what she was going to say.  His thrusts
grew harder, more determined, and the friction against her loins grew more and
more heated.  He ground his pelvis against her, creating motion and pressure. 

His mouth found her earlobe and
he suckled furiously.  It was all Aubrielle needed to throw her over the edge
into a spasm of pleasurable convulsions. Feeling her honeyed contractions
against his member, Kenneth released himself in a blinding burst. Sweat and
exhaustion covered them, but still he continued to move in her, feeling her wet
love around him, until the waves of pleasure faded and a cloud of contentment settled.

All of the fear, pain and death
of the past several days faded from their memories. Like a bad dream, the
recollections vanished like a puff smoke.  All that mattered was that, from
this point on, nothing would ever separate them again. 

Kenneth’s lips remained on Aubrielle’s
forehead long after they had both fallen into a peaceful sleep that mortals can
only dream of.

***

It was dark in the room when
Kenneth next opened his eyes.  Instantly awake, he felt better than he had in
days. He’d slept like the dead. Aubrielle still lay curled up in his arms and
he gazed down at her, thankful that his memories of her had not been a dream.
The sweetness of their reunion was still lingering warm in his veins and as he
continued to gaze upon her, he felt a peace like nothing he had ever known. In
so many ways, Aubrielle had made him feel things that he hadn’t imagined to
exist.

He kissed her forehead, watching
her stir. It brought a smile to his lips. He kissed her again and ran a
delicate finger along the little earlobe that stuck out so delightfully. She
wrinkled her nose and batted at her ear. He laughed softly and gathered her up
tightly against him. He held her for what seemed like an eternity of
contentment.

Aubrielle finally stirred,
scratching her head and smacking him in the nose in the process.  Startled, she
looked up at him.

“I am so sorry,” she murmured.
“Did I hurt you?”

He smiled down at her. “No, my
lady, you did not.”

She returned his smile, feeling
so very warm and safe in his arms. “Did you sleep well?”

“The best I ever have.”

“As did I,” she snuggled against
him. “’Tis dark outside. I do not even know what day it is.”

He held her close, smelling the
faint sweet clean scent of her hair.  “I would suspect we have been asleep the
entire day and into the night.  Tomorrow is Sunday.”

“I am famished,” she mumbled into
his chest.

“I suppose that is your way of
telling me to get out of bed and fetch you something to eat.”

“I haven’t eaten much this past
week. I would appreciate anything you can do for me in that regard.”

His warm expression faded as the
reminder of her plight invaded his thoughts again.  She hadn’t meant to remind
him, but it did nonetheless. Memories of Lucius and the mysterious sect
threatened to ruin his mood but he fought it. He tossed back the covers and she
squealed as her warm flesh came into contact with the cold air.