Wild Is My Love (16 page)

“I did not know about them,” he replied in surprise. “Does she not realize how dangerous it is to keep a lover so near?”

“If she loved him as I love you, I would understand, but she does not. Mother loves no one except herself. Beware of her many lusts, my love. As you know, she will stop at nothing to obtain her desires. I am no fool. I know she killed my father, and I know she is destroying Alric to seize Damnonia. If you are helping her, please be careful, for I could not bear to see you harmed if she is caught. Promise you will take me with you if you are exposed and forced to flee.”

“Would you hate me if your words about me are true?” he asked. A worried look filled his black eyes and lined his face.

“Never, my love,” she vowed, and kissed him.

He smiled and stroked her flesh. To prove his love and trust, Earnon said, “Soon all will be finished and we will find a way to be together always. Even now she rides to delude the people and to defeat Lord Daron to gain control of the Logris border. She plans to place Sir Calum in charge there. When it is safe and wise, she will replace Lord Fergus with Phelan, and Sir Kelton with Moran. Then she will control the land and people. For my help, she has promised the castle of Lord Orin to me.”

“Outside of Malvern Castle, that is the largest and best in Damnonia. Oh, dear Earnon, how happy we shall be there. Ask for me soon,” she coaxed, then covered his face with kisses.

“The grant will change once Isobail is in power, my
beautiful Kyra. Most of the land and serfs will go with Sir Kelton’s holdings. Isobail told me it was Moran’s heritage. I will control little more than Orin’s castle and a parcel of land around it; all else will be united to Moran’s domain, and I will be his vassal, as Sir Kelton is Lord Orin’s first and then Alric’s. You have much here; will that be enough for you?”

“Nothing here is mine except you, my love. I would go anyplace and do anything to have you. What would riches be without my heart?”

“My beautiful Kyra, you make an old man’s heart soar with joy.”

“You are not old, my love. Have you not proven your youth and prowess in this very bed? But tell me, my love: What would you do if she betrayed you?”

“She would not dare. Isobail knows I have the power to slay her,” he lied. How he wished he did control the matchless powers that he claimed and which others believed he possessed. True, he was highly skilled in alchemy, but his work always required physical help to obtain success. Simple folk could be fooled forever, but a smart woman like Princess Isobail… She paid him highly and gave him much honor. If he ever failed her, or she guessed the truth, she would have him killed instantly. If only he did possess real magic instead of tricks and illusions, instead of secrets about herbs and nature.

Earnon lifted Kyra’s chin to look into her sky-blue eyes. “Isobail is giving me Lord Orin’s domain for helping her defeat the lords, but I will demand you as my reward for keeping Alric abed with my powers.”

Kyra warned, “Do not wait too long, my love. Sir Calum is chasing me swiftly; he said Mother would betroth us soon.”

“I will never allow Sir Calum or any man to have you except me.”

Later, Earnon said, “If we destroy a certain foe for Isobail, she will lean heavily in our direction.”

“What foe, my love? And how shall we destroy him for Mother?”

“Baltair. If we get rid of him, Isobail will be forced to relent to our request. I have a plan. Will you help me win her favor?”

“I will do whatever you say, my love. How shall we kill him?” she asked eagerly.

“I will place a spell on him that will cause him to desire you beyond control. While he is trying to ravish you, trusted knights will rescue you and slay the madman. It will appear an innocent crime.”

Kyra protested, “But I will be shamed. What if others think I enticed him? What if he harms me before your men—”

Earnon placed his finger to her lips. “I swear you will be safe and blameless. If I can persuade your mother to use this plan, all will be settled for us. She would not dare refuse us anything if we help her.”

Kyra thought about his plan. Yes, she decided, It would be smart to pretend to help him and her mother, and to be rid of someone as dangerous to their cause as Baltair was. “I love you and trust you, dear Earnon, so I will do whatever you say.”

Earnon retrieved something from his work area and returned to the bed. He placed the small bowl to her lips and told her to drink from it; afterwards, he did the same. Within minutes colorful lights danced before her eyes and her head began to whirl dreamily. She began to tingle as a strange heat and craving filled her. She smiled and reached for him, and they sank to the bed entwined.

Gavin had been trailing Isobail’s retinue for several days. The Cumbrian prince wished he could get closer to Isobail’s tent to eavesdrop, but it was far too dangerous. Obviously the woman was more cunning than he had realized: she always rested or made camp in the open, and had dogs tied at intervals around her tent to prevent anyone from sneaking up on her. Yet he was learning a great deal by following her at a distance.

It was clear what Isobail was attempting with this journey: she not only needed political and military control of Damnonia, she also needed the loyalty—or bridling fear—of the lords and peasants. She had halted her retinue at every village and hamlet to work her charms and deceits upon the peasantry. If necessary, she used intimidation or coercion to win allegiance. She appeared to grasp people’s strengths and weaknesses, and was skilled at using them to get her way.

Among the ways Isobail ingratiated herself with the populace was to have her knights hunt down local bandits and turn them over to the populace to judge and punish. On one occasion she misled them by having petty thieves dress like the merciless raiders who had attacked that particular village recently. Isobail assumed an air of their champion as she talked about the attacks
on that village and others, until she incited a blood lust in the people. After which Gavin witnessed horrible acts of vengeance perpetrated on the unfortunate bandits. Later the villagers surrounded the artful slaker to praise her courage, spirit, and defense.

Isobail’s ability to gain influence and authority over so many people worried Gavin. He concurred with Giselde: Isobail was greedy, deceitful, and dangerous. Giselde was right, he concluded; the woman’s pretense was alarmingly masterful and an imminent victory could be hers!

Gavin guessed that Isobail was heading to Lord Daron’s, near the Logris border. At her current pace, she would reach his castle before dusk the next day. He settled back against the tree to think and rest for a while. The six men he had sent in separate directions, to see what each could learn, were to meet in about a week to compare their findings. While he followed Isobail to Sheriff Trahern’s and other places, Tragan was to see what he could learn around Lord Orin’s, Lann had been ordered to scout the Logris border, Keegan had been sent to spy at Lord Daron’s, Dal was to observe Sir Kelton, Bevan to watch Lord Fergus’s, and Weylin to remain near Malvern Castle.

Malvern Castle, his mind echoed, then traveled there. He could hardly wait to meet with the beautiful Thisbe again. Despite the possibility of her deceit, exquisite images of her filled his head. He could almost smell the fragrance that lingered on her flesh and hair. His lips hungered to taste hers and his arms ached to hold her. Yet his yearnings were not just physical; he wanted to be with her, to share all things. His jealous mind told him that he had no competition in Squire Teague, or so he hoped. Surely after meeting him, sweet Thisbe could not retain desires for another man, not after the way she behaved with him. After all, she had left Teague’s side to race to his in the forest, and had
seemed eager for his swift return. If she had her mind set on capturing Teague, she would just have to change it! He smiled, and sighed peacefully as he began to recall those heady meetings in the forest.

As Gavin eased into slumber, Alysa’s words kept running through his mind: “Please return soon… for you haunt me day and night.”

Gavin stealthily approached the tempting maiden who was leaning against a towering oak, her eyes closed. Before the enchanting nymph in woodland green could clear her wits, his strong arms imprisoned her between them. As she tried to duck beneath one arm and flee him again, his muscular body pressed her slender one snugly against the trunk. “Nay, my fetching damsel, you shall not escape me again. You must fill my life and passions as you fill my dreams. Surrender to me and share my life.”

“It cannot be, my wandering warrior, for we are worlds apart,” she said in an emotion-choked voice while her ocean blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. “A mortal cannot mate with one who is not human, not without a heavy price.” Suddenly she was free, and his body refused to obey his command to chase and recapture her.

“Surely any price or sacrifice is worth a bond between us,” he reasoned frantically as he struggled to move. Finally he could, but she eluded him. “Return to me,” he implored.

As she darted here and there behind trees and bushes, she replied, “Nay, Gavin, my love. Do not torment us with a plan that cannot be ours. Here, only in our dreamworld, can we become one.”

Gavin searched for her as he shouted, “Nay! I must have you in the real world or live as half a man.”

He found himself beneath her on the grass and she was teasing her long brown hair over his face and bare
torso. “I can never leave you or lose you,” she murmured, then sealed their lips in an urgent kiss.

As he rolled her to her back and lay atop her, he vowed, “I shall make you mine or die trying.” The stimulating dream slipped away as water between his fingers, and he slumbered contentedly. As did Alysa.

The next day Alysa realized how quiet the castle had been since Isobail’s departure, and how quiet her life seemed without Gavin. There was little to do, and she was bored. She had tried to visit her father once more, but his head was too fuzzy to comprehend her presence. She discussed this distressing matter with Leitis, who was as stumped as she was. The only good thing to happen in the last few days, she thought, was Kyra’s absence; her stepsister was rarely around to trouble her. Alysa decided it would be safe to visit Giselde. She told Thisbe to do as she pleased since she was going riding most of the day.

With Isobail gone, and Kyra and Earnon keeping to themselves, Thisbe could usually sneak romantic meetings with Squire Teague. But today, Sir Calum was restless and demanded that the red-haired son of Lord Orin scour the countryside for bandits with him. No one knew that Calum was in a sullen mood because Kyra was avoiding him.

Fortunately, Princess Alysa Malvern saw the two men leave the castle and watched which direction they took. Once they were out of sight, she headed her horse toward the forest and secluded ravine. First she went to the spot where she had last seen Gavin. She sat down where they had kissed and caressed, and daydreamed of him.

She thought of how his dark blond hair curled at his neck and around his handsome face. She smiled as she recalled that undeniable air of self-assurance in his
manner. She remembered every feature on Gavin’s face, and warmed as her mental eye roamed his body. She loved the sensual pout of his lower lip and the strong line of his jaw. She loved the feel of his skin and the way his stubbled face teased against her smooth flesh. He was very much a man, perhaps too much of a virile man for one woman to satisfy.

Alysa sighed in loneliness and yearning. How easy and wonderful it was to be held in his arms. How stimulating to touch him, to kiss him, to be captured by those compelling green eyes. If he were here this moment, she would give herself to him, even without promises. Nothing would make her happier than winning him.

Heading for Giselde’s hut, she prayed the old woman could lift her spirits, as nothing seemed to be going right for her lately. Giselde, however, was not in. Alysa waited for her to return home as time passed and shadows lengthened. She wished she could get inside the locked chest to hold the precious ring, the one that had belonged to her grandmother. Perhaps Giselde would teach her about healing herbs, she thought, to pass the days until her life was righted once more. No, it was too dangerous to spend much time here. That thought warned her it was past time to return home.

Alysa walked through the forest slowly. She did not want to return to the dismal castle and her solitude, but there was nothing else she could do this late in the day. She could not go on like this, she told herself, and dreaded to think of Isobail’s return while her father was still sick. Worse, she hated to think of Gavin never returning. She must have him, she simply must have him!

That evening Alysa stood over her father’s bed and wept, for she could not arouse him at all. She feared he was dying, and anguish pricked her heart. If only Gavin were here to help her at this difficult time. It didn’t matter to her what her father had done, she loved
him and wanted him to survive. Perhaps he should no longer be the ruler of Damnonia, but Isobail was not the one to take his place. If it came to a battle for the Crown, she would defend her right to the throne! Yet the moment she placed it on her head, Gavin might be lost to her forever.

“Oh, Mother,” she cried, “if only you were here to help us…”

Somewhere inside her head Alysa heard an urgent plea in Catriona’s voice:
Save him, my child, save him from that evil woman. Soon he must join me, but not until his enemies are defeated. The blood of kings and chieftains flows within you; call upon your heritage to give you strength, wisdom, and courage.

Alysa glanced around the room and found it empty. Had the voice come from the spirit world or her imagi nation? The girl of Celtic and Viking bloods smiled and shook her head. She caressed her father’s cheek and murmured, “Do not worry, Father, I will save you from harm. First I must tell Leitis to eliminate all herbs in your food and drink. If they are not sneaking poison to you in another way, perhaps the healing ones do not lie well in your belly. We shall see…”

Princess Isobail’s caravan reached Lord Daron’s castle at sunset the following day. Servants busied themselves unloading the numerous wagons and settling the royal party into proper chambers or clean quarters. Lord Daron, his wife Gweneth, their two daughters, and one of their two sons welcomed the royal visitor and her retinue into their home. Sheriff Trahern and Phelan, Captain of the Guard, stood on either side of the princess as she spoke politely with her host and greeted the other guests—Lord Orin and his wife Lavena, Sir Kelton and his wife Kadra, and Alric’s seneschal Baltair—who were present for this weekend of hunting and feasting
which was wrapped around a hurriedly prepared schedule of official functions, with Isobail holding temporary court in Alric’s name.

The Great Hall at Lord Daron’s castle fell silent when Isobail entered the room, and hesitated as a loud voice announced: “Her Highness, Princess Isobail Malvern, Regent of Damnonia and wife to our noble ruler, Prince Alric, future King of Cambria. In the name of Lord Daron, welcome.”

Isobail gracefully headed for the recently constructed dais at the far end of the large hall, amused that the man had gone to such trouble to please her on the day before his death… The men bowed and the women curtsied as the ravishing princess passed by, smiling and nodding to most, but pausing briefly to acknowledge a few by allowing them to kiss her extended hand or by addressing them personally.

Few rulers had appeared more regal, more poised, more radiant than Isobail did at that moment. She looked strong, yet gentle. She looked innocent, yet seductively earthy. As if she had the crowd mesmerized by an artful illusion, each saw in her what the observer desired.

Isobail’s white-blond hair tumbled to her firm buttocks and was held in place by a gold crown which reflected the glimmering light of numerous candles. To match her eyes, she was wearing a flowing tunica in soft blue, a flattering style carried over from their Roman conquerors. The thin material that caressed her shapely figure was girded just below her waist with an artistically braided belt whose cords dangled near her knees and swayed sensuously with her movements. Suspended from a gold chain was a heavy, jewel-encrusted square which rested in the swell of her breasts and drew attention to their pleasing size and lift. It was obvious that her waist was slim and her hips softly rounded. Her feet were encased in leather slippers which fit them
perfectly and matched the belt that encircled her body. Her fingers bore many rings, and her left arm was adorned with several bracelets. No one could deny how beautiful and royal she appeared. Many thought she looked and moved like a goddess.

Reaching the dais, Isobail was seated at her private table. She glanced around the room, then asked two men and their wives to join her: Lord Daron, Lady Gweneth, Lord Orin, and Lady Lavena. As soon as their places were set, as it would have been presumptuous to have placed more than Isobail’s dishes at the head table, the two couples joined the smiling princess.

Strolling minstrels provided music while the food was being served and eaten. Isobail feasted happily on the delicacy of lark’s tongue pie, along with a variety of meats and vegetables. While conversing with her table guests, she nibbled daintily on figs and raisins and sipped sparingly on the best wine from Daron’s cellar. Laughter filled the room, and joyful smiles could be seen on every face. For a time, she knew, problems in Damnonia were forgotten by those present. While an assortment of fruits and sweets were being served, a troupe of tumblers entertained them, followed by a talented magician. Soon everyone had eaten his or her fill and the noise increased in the hall.

Isobail signaled she was ready for music and dancing, which began immediately with her and the host Lord Daron taking the floor first. Afterwards she danced with Lord Orin and Sheriff Trahern, the only men of enough rank to be allowed such a privilege.

As she swept close to Trahern during a series of intricate steps, she whispered, “Come to my chamber as soon as it is safe. Make sure Phelan knows his orders.”

“Everything is in readiness, Your Highness. End this night swiftly,” Trahern replied, his voice low his eyes scanning those nearby to insure that no one eavesdropped on the exchange.

At the end of the dance Isobail spoke, and all lips went silent. “I have not enjoyed myself so much in many months, Lord Daron. I thank you. When my husband and our ruler is healed, I will beg him to plan a deer hunt in the royal forest near Malvern Castle. I shall repay my dear friends and loyal vassals with a great feast,” she promised.

Isobail’s laugh was deep and sultry and rose above the cheers that filled the hall. “When we hawk tomorrow, I shall claim the largest rabbit taken for my evening repast, and I shall give the best trainer this scarf in gratitude.” She waved a sky blue one over her head, her gesture calculated to charm them. “After our hunt and meal, we shall sit together and decide how to resolve our problems. I wish to learn from each of you,” she said, knowing there would be no court tomorrow night after the brutal slaying she had planned. Already she had prepared a splendid funeral oration.