Dream of Me/Believe in Me

the beach below Hawkforte, men went down to the strand with their seines, tossed them out into the silvery water, and pulled them back filled with the bounty of mackerel that were roasted on spits over open fires.
    Late in the night, perched on a stone wall overlooking the beach, Krysta licked bits of honey cake from her fingers and leaned her head against Hawk's strong shoulder. “Did you ever wonder when the priests speak of heaven if they mean a place like this?”
    “Some say hell can be found on earth and I have been places where I believe that is true. It seems only fair that heaven should also be glimpsed.”
    He tightened his arm around her as the thought pierced him that he would be content and more to go through eternity gazing out at the moon-garbed sea so long as she was at his side. But his fey pixie had other ideas. Laughing, she fed him bits of cake until all were gone, then bestowed upon him lingering, honeyed kisses of sweet ardor that ran hot in his veins.
    Which is how it came to pass that the Lord of Hawkforte made love to his bride on the sand beneath the high walls of his fortress, finding for them a secluded spot deep in the shadows where they lingered until gentle darkness yielded to a new morning. A few valiant stars still shone when they finally made their way back inside, laughing like guilty children and stepping over the bodies of exhausted revelers who slumbered where they had fallen.
    A visitor to Hawkforte that day might have thought it a strangely enchanted place whose inhabitants had been put to sleep by a charm. Scarcely anyone stirred in the town. Yet did the guard still keep watch, stern men uncomplaining in their duty. They were not alone. Afterseeing Krysta to bed and satisfying himself that she would stay there, Hawk joined them. It was good to be among his men, receiving their silent nods and exchanging a few words with his lieutenants. The crisp breeze from the sea banished the wisps of sleep and made him feel rejuvenated. He walked the walls, looking out over his domain, and felt within himself the fierce will to protect what was his rising stronger even than ever before. Yet he kept his gaze steadfastly outward, with no thought for the possibility that the danger was already within.

Chapter TWENTY

    D ID YOU NOTICE THE MOON LAST NIGHT? Aelfgyth asked. They were in the weaving shed, counting the lengths of cloth that would be made into winter garments for the servants. The air was filled with little tufts of flax and wool that made them sneeze.
    “This place needs to be aired out,” Krysta said. She looked around critically at the narrow windows covered with wooden shutters that appeared nailed closed. “And how can anyone work in so little light?”
    “The Lady Daria believed too much light and air was distracting for the weavers. She thought it would cause them to shirk their duties.”
    Krysta's eyebrows shot up but she said nothing. There were too many opportunities to confront what Daria had thought and what she had imposed on people. To yield once to that temptation would be to bring on a deluge. Instead, she kept her views to herself and said, “Tell the carpenters to take off these shutters and expand the windows. Also, when the weather is fair the women should be weaving outside.”
    “They will be pleased to hear that. In truth, there has been trouble getting enough women to weave because the conditions were so poor.”
    Krysta understood that Aelfgyth had this from Edvard. Already the two were working together as a pair and their wedding still a fortnight off. It pleased her greatly to see that.
    “I did see the moon,” Krysta went on. She smiled to herself as she remembered the circumstances. If there was a sight more beautiful than her husband's powerful, sculpted body bathed in moonlight, she did not know it. Truly, they should make a habit of visiting the beach together. Was it really only a little more than a month since they had first made love, and then, too, by the water's edge? A lifetime seemed to have passed, yet when Krysta considered, she realized it was scarcely two months since she had first come to Hawkforte. So much had happened since then that she was not surprised it seemed longer. The moon had been full when she came, full again when she first lay in Hawk's arms, and shone full once more with her now his wife. Three courses of the moon marking the ancient rhythms of time …
    Marking, too, the rhythms of her body.
    So much had