Medieval 01 - Untamed

Blackthorne’s people. Not once —never— has anyone asked me what my own desire was .
    â€œWhat did you want, Meg?” Dominic asked finally. “Why did you agree to marry me? Why didn’t you cast your lot with Duncan of Maxwell, for whom you feel ‘affection’?”
    Dominic sensed the change in Meg’s body, a stillness that went all the way to the marrow of her bones.
    â€œI wanted no more war,” she said flatly. “I hate the endless cruelty, the violence, the lives cut off before they are ripe. I knew if a strong man with many knights held Blackthorne Keep, the landless thanes would look elsewhere to feed their ambitions. And I heard that no stronger knight than Dominic le Sabre lived between here and Jerusalem.”
    She took a swift, deep breath and continued before Dominic could speak.
    â€œAnd now I find myself caught in whispers of adultery when I have touched no man save my husband. I find my husband poisoned and myself suspected of the vile act. I find knights in chain mail prowling the keep, seeing enemies in every familiar face.”
    â€œI don’t suspect you,” Dominic said.
    Meg kept speaking as though she hadn’t heard.
    â€œI am a healer. I want to heal this land’s hatred, for it is a greater sickness than any I’ve ever known. Hatred is the bitter soul of war. I want to bring peace to the land!”
    Dominic’s breath caught. He had never thought to hear his own dreams so clearly stated. Slowly he turned Meg’s face up to his.
    â€œI share your desire,” he said in a low voice. “Work with me, wife. Help me to bring peace to the land.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œBlend Norman and Glendruid blood. Give me sons.”
    Sudden tears fell from Meg’s eyelashes. The heat of the drops was scalding.
    â€œThat is beyond my control,” she whispered. “You are a warrior who can be wise, who can be restrained, who can look after the welfare of your vassals, whocan do much for your people… but you cannot love .”
    Dominic didn’t deny it. The sultan’s hell had burned out much of Dominic’s soul, and he knew it. As much as he wanted sons, he could no more magically transform himself into a man who was capable of love than he could fly as a falcon flew.
    He could only do what a falcon master did—get a small falcon to fly for him.
    â€œAye,” Dominic agreed. “I am a warrior who cannot love. You are a healer who cannot hate. Don’t you see the way out of the trap?”
    Meg shook her head slowly.
    â€œOld Gwyn told me that Glendruid women are cursed by seeing into the souls of men,” Dominic said, “and only God could love a man so clearly seen.”
    â€œYes,” Meg whispered.
    Tears welled as she looked into the eyes of the warrior who could not love.
    â€œI don’t believe that all Glendruid women are so cold,” Dominic said. “I believe that a Glendruid healer would look differently at a man who could bring peace to a land torn by war. I believe she would see past the imperfections of his soul. I believe she could love him.
    â€œLook at me and see peace for Blackthorne Keep,” Dominic said. “Love me, Meg. Then heal the land with my sons.”
    â€œYou ask too much,” she whispered, appalled by his logic. “ I see you too clearly .”
    â€œI ask what I must. It is the only way out of the trap. For both of us.”

20
    F ROWNING AND TUGGING AT cloth, Marie worked over the last adjustments on Meg’s new dress while church bells rang out, telling the people in the fields that it was time for their mid-morning food. Voices fell silent in the bailey as servants halted their tasks long enough to enjoy the melodious song of the bells.
    The bells rang again, reminding Meg of a time five days past, when she and Dominic had walked from the keep to the church and stood in a chill mist while John of Cumbriland was buried. The ceremony was brief.
    There will be no time of mourning , Dominic had decreed calmly. John of Cumbriland was not your father .
    With that Dominic had turned from the freshly filled grave while the bells were still tolling the end of John’s life. He led Meg away with him through the thick mist of a day that would neither rain nor allow the sun to shine.
    Meg hadn’t objected to the lack of ceremony. She felt only relief at John’s burial. Part of her hoped it would mark the end of