Medieval 01 - Untamed

she said quickly. “Other men want many things. Some manage to want one after the other. Most want all at once.”
    â€œAnd so get none.”
    It was Gwyn’s turn to be surprised.
    â€œAye,” she said. “’Tis so. But you are not as other men. You are obsessed with one thing and one thing alone. A son.”
    Dominic’s eyes narrowed into splinters of clear ice.
    â€œIn any case,” he said smoothly, “I find myself saddled with an infertile wife.”
    â€œNot so!”
    There was no doubt in the old woman’s voice.
    â€œThen why is Meg so certain I will die without sons?” Dominic demanded.
    Gwyn’s eyes widened, then narrowed in consideration of the tall warrior who stood before her. For the first time she realized just how deep a rage he was concealing.
    â€œIs that what she said to you?” Gwyn asked carefully.
    â€œAye.”
    â€œPrecisely? Word by word, lord. I must be certain.”
    At first Dominic thought he would refuse. Yet there was something in the old woman’s eyes that couldn’t be denied.
    â€œShe said, ‘For a Glendruid son, love is required. There is no love in you, Dominic le Sabre.’”
    The sound that came from Gwyn could have been a sigh or a whispering sound of pain that was absorbed by the slight noises of the hearth fire. She rubbed her eyes as though inexpressibly weary. Then she looked at the man who wanted only one thing in life.
    â€œIt’s not that Meg is infertile, Lord Dominic. It’s that no Glendruid son will be conceived if there isn’t love between the parents.”
    â€œHow can that be, old woman?”
    â€œI do not know,” she said simply. “I know only that it has been thus since the loss of the Glendruid Wolf.”
    â€œAnd how long is that?”
    â€œLong, long ago, lord. So long only God remembers and He has told no one.”
    â€œCome now, madam,” Dominic said in a voice rich with sarcasm. “Are you asking me to believe that insuch a great span of time, not one man has deceived a Glendruid lass into thinking he loved her?”
    Gwyn shrugged. “It wouldn’t matter what lies he told her to bed her. Ultimately the curse rests on the woman’s love, not the man’s. Many Glendruid women have wanted sons to bring peace to their world. Not one has managed the kind of love a son requires.”
    Dominic narrowed his eyes. Nothing of what Gwyn was saying pleased him. But then, he was never pleased to discover the traps and fortifications of a city he must take.
    â€œâ€™Tis true, then, what Lord John said,” Dominic murmured. “The witches are as cold as a mountain grave. They feel no passion.”
    Gwyn smiled oddly. “Do you believe John or do you believe the untouched Glendruid flesh that came to your call as a falcon to its master?”
    Dominic’s whole body tightened at the reminder of the desire he had indeed aroused in Meg, only to have her angrily withdraw at the thought of giving him heirs.
    â€œThen why haven’t the witches loved? Are they incapable of it?” he demanded tightly.
    â€œSome, yes. The ability to love is rare in any clan or kin. But not in Meg. There is great love within her. Ask any of the people of the keep.”
    â€œWhat of the witches who could love?” Dominic persisted. “Did they marry brutes unworthy of them?”
    â€œBrutes? Nay. They simply married men, lord. Just men.”
    â€œYou speak in circles,” he said impatiently.
    â€œNo. You simply choose not to understand. Could you give your soul in love to a woman if you were absolutely certain she wanted nothing but to use you in order to gain lands, wealth, and sons?”
    â€œGod’s teeth, what foolishness is—”
    â€œCould you,” the old woman continued relentlessly, “allow yourself to love any woman? Could you share your tightly guarded soul with her?”
    Dominic gave her a look of disbelief “Do I appear a fool, madam? I cede that kind of control over my destiny to no one, man or woman!”
    Tears magnified the old woman’s eyes, but they did not fall. She had had too many years on earth to believe that tears changed anything.
    â€œThen you will have no sons and I will be doomed to watch yet another generation pray for release from the curse.”
    â€œI don’t believe you,” he snarled.
    â€œThen believe this: Glendruid women see beneath