Medieval 02 - Forbidden

around her cold body, and fought to bring the pain under control. It was possible now that Duncan wasn’t touching her.
    Possible, but agonizing.
    “I don’t understand,” Duncan said, baffled and angry at once. “My touch used to give you pleasure. Is it because my mind is whole now?”
    Amber shook her head.
    “Then what in the name of Mary and Jesus is happening!” Duncan demanded.
    For a moment Amber struggled to speak. Then she simply shook her head again.
    “Your rage,” Cassandra said simply.
    Duncan spun toward her. The look in his eyes would have made an armed knight flinch, but the Learned woman made no move away from the lord of Stone Ring Keep.
    “Speak plainly,” he ordered.
    “’Tis simple. You are consumed by rage. When you touch Amber, she feels your hatred of her as greatly as she once felt your pleasure. Beating her with a whip would cause less pain.”
    Stunned, Duncan looked at his own hands as though they belonged to a stranger. Never had he beaten a horse, a woman, or a child. The thought of causing such pain with no more than a touch sickened him.
    “How could Erik have used her gift to discover truth?” Duncan asked in a low voice. “He is a monster!”
    “Nay,” Amber said raggedly. “Most people give me but a few instants of pain.”
    “What of Simon?” Duncan demanded. “You fainted.”
    “Simon had but one thought when he grabbed my wrist. Loathing for me. He is a man of intense passion. It overwhelmed me.”
    “What of Erik?” Duncan asked bluntly. “I doubt that his passions are timid.”
    “Nay. Nor do they wound me. He has tenderness for me, and I for him.”
    Duncan grimaced.
    Cassandra looked from Duncan to Amber.
    “Duncan is a man of great passion,” Cassandra said softly to Amber. “Why didn’t his hatred overwhelm you?”
    “Because he feels other things for me as well. It is tearing him apart. It is tearing me as well.”
    With that, Amber came back to her feet. She took a step, stumbled, and would have fallen if Duncan hadn’t caught her before he thought of the hurt his touch would cause. He released her as quickly as he had caught her.
    “I didn’t mean to…”
    Duncan’s voice faded and he made a baffled gesture with his hands. No matter how furious he was with the witch who had betrayed him, the thought of his simple touch causing such pain for her bothered him in ways he didn’t want to name.
    “’Tis all right,” Amber said in a low voice. “It wasn’t nearly so hurtful the second time.”
    “Why?”
    “The rage was still there, but it was overwhelmed by your horror at causing me such pain.”
    A shuttered look came over Duncan’s face as he realized how clearly Amber saw him.
    More clearly than he saw himself.
    More clearly than he wanted to see .
    “Then,” Cassandra said, “there is hope.”
    “Duncan is a decent man,” Amber said wearily.“Weave your hopes upon that, rather than upon my future.”
    “Hope?” Duncan asked. “Of what?”
    Neither woman spoke.
    Duncan turned on his heel and sat again in the lord’s chair.
    “I see that you are quite restored,” he challenged.
    A chill gathered in Amber. Duncan’s softening toward her had been only momentary.
    “Yes,” she said tonelessly.
    “Then we will continue. Are the Learned plotting against me?” Duncan asked.
    Cassandra’s hand lifted to brush against Amber’s cheek.
    “No,” Cassandra said.
    “No,” Amber echoed.
    “Does Cassandra hope that they will?”
    “No,” Cassandra said.
    “No,” Amber echoed.
    For a time there was silence but for the cry of wind around the keep and the whistling of a servant as he drew water from the well below the solar.
    Then Amber sensed people coming into the room behind her. She didn’t look to see who it was. She had attention only for the proud warrior who was gazing at her with far too much darkness in his eyes.
    “As you requested,” Simon said from the doorway. “Although what you will do with this lazy lout is beyond me.”
    Duncan looked beyond Amber and smiled slightly.
    “Stay by the door, Simon, if you please.”
    Simon nodded.
    “Egbert,” Duncan said. “Step forward.”
    Amber heard the squire’s footsteps begin, hesitate, and then set off at a different angle, giving her a wide berth.
    “No,” Duncan said. “Stand close to the witch.”
    “Which one, lord?”
    Duncan shot the squire a cold glance. “Amber.”
    Egbert edged close enough that Amber could see his shock of reddish hair