Medieval 02 - Forbidden

recognize me. If I had held a blade between a man’s thighs, I would certainly recognize him and know the reason for our enmity.”
    Amber stiffened.
    “What is it?” Erik asked softly.
    “The church,” Amber said. “It was a wedding.”
    “You’re certain?” Duncan and Erik asked as one.
    “Aye. The feel of an embroidered shoe—” she began.
    “In my hand! Yes!” Duncan interrupted triumphantly. “Her shoe was silver, as delicate as frost! I remember it!”
    Tears stood in Amber’s eyes, then slipped soundlessly down her cheeks.
    “Is there anything else, Amber?” Erik asked.
    His voice was truly gentle this time, for he had seen her tears and guessed the reason why.
    Abruptly Duncan realized that he was holding very tightly to Amber’s fingers.
    “Did I hurt you?” he asked.
    Amber shook her head but would not meet Duncan’s eyes. Long fingers tilted her face up to his with a strength that would not be denied.
    “Precious Amber,” Duncan said. “Why do you cry?”
    Her lips parted but no words came out. Her throat was too filled with tears for her to speak.
    “Is it something in my memories you see that I don’t?” he asked.
    Amber shook her head and tried to pull away from Duncan. His hands tightened, holding her.
    “Is it—” he began.
    “Leave off,” Erik interrupted curtly. “Release her from your touch. Let her find what peace she can.”
    Duncan looked beyond Amber to the man whose eyes were like those of his wolfhounds, gleaming with reflected fire.
    “What’s wrong?” Duncan demanded. “Is it a Learned matter? Is that why she won’t tell me?”
    “Would that it were,” Erik muttered. “Learned matters respond to intelligence. Matters of the heart do not.”
    “Talk sense!”
    “’Tis quite simple,” Erik said. “You stood in church with a woman’s shoe in your hand.”
    “What has that to do with Amber’s tears?” Duncan asked in exasperation.
    “She has given her heart to a man who is already married. Surely that is cause for tears?”
    At first Duncan didn’t understand. When he did, he gathered Amber into his arms and laughed. Afteran instant, so did she, sensing the truth that Duncan had just discovered.
    “I was giving the shoe to another man, not taking it from him,” Duncan said. “It was he who married the shoe’s owner, not I!”
    The wolfhounds came to their feet, threw back their heads, and howled with an elemental triumph.
    Duncan stared at the hounds, wondering what possessed them.
    Amber stared at Erik, wondering why he felt a triumph so great that his hounds cried it to the night.

10
    “Y OU sent them alone to the sacred Stone Ring?” Cassandra asked, horrified.
    “Yes,” Erik said. “Duncan wants to find his memory before he finds himself lying between Amber’s legs. I would rather the reverse were true.”
    “You take too much upon yourself!”
    “As you taught me,” Erik said softly, “without risk there is no gain.”
    “This isn’t risk. This is madness!”
    Erik turned away from Cassandra and looked out over Hidden Lake and its wild fens where myriad waterfowl glided and fed. A lid of clouds concealed the highest reaches of the fells. Below the clouds, the glen was tawny and black, evergreen and bronze, a painted bowl waiting to be filled with winter.
    Though Erik couldn’t see the top of Stormhold, he knew that the high peak would soon be veiled with glittering snow. The geese and Cassandra had been right. Winter was bearing down on them, wearing a cloak of icy wind.
    The peregrine on Erik’s wrist moved uneasily, disturbed by the currents of emotion seething beneath the man’s calm surface. Warily Cassandra eyed the falcon, knowing that only his wolfhounds were more sensitive to Erik’s emotions.
    “This ‘madness,’ as you call it,” he said quietly, “is my best chance of keeping the southern estates until I can find more good knights to take service with me.”
    “Your father has many other holdings,” Cassandra countered. “Tend them instead.”
    “What are you suggesting, Learned? That I cede Stone Ring Keep to Dominic le Sabre without a battle?”
    “Yes.”
    The peregrine flared its wings and uttered a sharp cry.
    “What of Sea Home?” Erik asked gently. “Shall I give that to the Norman bastard as well? And Winterlance?”
    “There is no need. Stone Ring was the only keep mentioned by the English king—and agreed to by the Scottish king, I might add.”
    “For the moment, yes.”
    “The