Dream of Me/Believe in Me

peoples?”
    Udell leaned back and looked at her. His eyes shone as though the two of them were sharing a joke. “Oh, to be sure, peace is to be sought above all else.” He caught a handful of her curls and crushed them in his fist. “Butthink, my lady, why should the Norse only make peace with Alfred, an aging king whose victories are in the past? Why should they not seek alliance with younger, more vigorous leaders?”
    “What leaders are equal in stature to Alfred who is king and whose son will be king after him? I hear of no others.”
    “Then you must learn to listen more carefully.” He dropped her hair but did not move away from her. Almost to himself, he said, “You really are oddly interesting. There's something about you….”
    Krysta had a very good sense that the “something” Udell found so intriguing was simply that she belonged to the Hawk, a man so far above him as to be the inevitable target of his bitter resentment and envy. But she was also vividly aware that whatever the cause, he was becoming aroused. Repugnance clawed at her and she made an instinctive effort to put distance between them.
    Udell caught her chin, twisting her face so that she had no choice but to look at him. “Don't be coy. It doesn't become you. Peace with the Norse has much to recommend it to any king, including of Mercia.”
    Through stiffened lips, Krysta said, “There is no king of Mercia.”
    He flushed slightly, his eyes gleaming. “Today there is not. Tomorrow—” He shoved her hard against the wall and put his hands to her gown, pulling up her skirts to bare her legs.
    “Wouldn't you rather be a queen than a mere lady?” he murmured as he ground himself against her.
    Her stomach truly was going to rebel, and wouldn't that be a surprise for the despicable Lord Udell? Tempted though she was to let it happen, Krysta remembered suddenly what Thorgold had told her.
    “There's men with black hearts, girl,” he had said in his gruff but loving way, “who care the earth for their ownwants and pig spit for anyone else's. Do you meet one like that, ye keep yer wits about ye good, an' when they least expect it, ye—”
    Krysta took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and followed Thorgold's instructions precisely. The howl that erupted from Udell made the starlings nesting in the eaves flee into the sky.
    Doubled over, his face turning purple, he gasped, “You bitch! How dare you! I'll—” Belatedly, she realized that he was, for all his posturing, a warrior and as such well accustomed to pain. He lunged after her and she only just managed to elude his grip, but the door back into the corridor stuck as she tried to open it and for a horrible moment she thought she was undone.
    Until a blur of shining black and a raucous caw made her hope otherwise. A raven swooped into the courtyard, followed by another and another. Within moments, the air seemed filled with them as they dived and darted about Udell, pecking at him mercilessly. He screamed and tried to cover his head but to no avail. Rivulets of blood ran down his face and still the attack continued.
    Krysta stood frozen in horror for a moment before her own peril drove her on. This time, the door yielded and she tumbled into the corridor even as Udell fell to the ground in the courtyard, writhing desperately in his efforts to keep the ravens from his eyes. His screams disturbed the hushed sanctity of the royal school. Doors began to open up and down the corridor as students and masters alike emerged to see what was happening.
    Krysta did not wait to be seen by them but lifted her skirts and ran swift as the wind. She kept going until she came skittering around a corner and into the great hall. There she stopped abruptly for although it was not yet time to dine, there were people present. As curious eyes turned in her direction, she struggled to appear calm and composed.
    To her immense relief, Hawk was there. She almost sobbed to see him and hurried to his side without thought, only to be shocked when he took a step back and stared at her coldly. “I was looking for you,” he said. “Come with me.”
    He strode from the hall and into the well of the stairs leading to the guest quarters. Krysta trailed after him. Glad though she was to be away from the scrutiny of others, she found no comfort in the harsh gaze he turned on her the moment they were alone.
    “You went to the queen.”
    There was no mistaking that as anything other than an accusation. Still