Medieval 02 - Forbidden

among the people, entertaining them with clever hands and ribald verses on the subject of wedding and bedding.
    Erik’s wolfhounds foraged in a furry, toothed turmoil beneath tables that were all but swaybacked from the burden of food, silver and gold plates, and goblets set with precious stones. Prized hawks sat above the party on wall perches, watching every motion with unnerving interest.
    Cassandra watched Amber with the same kind of interest. No sooner had the wise woman returned from a birthing than she discovered a keep seething with excitement. A man hanged. A maid to be wed. Norse raiders rumored at Winterlance.
    And, perhaps, the memory of a great warrior stirring, waking, looking around at a world with the eyes of a bird of prey.
    There had been no time for Cassandra to protest, to agree, or to do anything except witness a marriage that never should have taken place.
    There certainly had been no opportunity to talk to Amber in private, to ask her why she was risking so much when the gain was so unlikely, to ask her why she had allowed her body to follow her reckless heart, given over to a man who had come to her in shades of darkness.
    Would that he remained that way .
    But Cassandra’s rune stones said that he would not. Duncan would awaken and then death rather than life would flow.
    “Have you told Duncan yet?” she asked.
    There was no need for Amber to ask what Cassandra meant. Amber knew. She had spent the hours before her marriage in solitude, asking questions of her amber pendant.
    The answers that came back to her were always the same.
    A choice of evils.
    “No,” Amber said.
    “Soon or late, someone will recognize him,” Cassandra said.
    “Yes.”
    “What will you do then?”
    “Whatever I must.”
    “It would have been better to let Erik hang him before the third aspect of the prophecy is fulfilled.”
    The look Amber gave Cassandra held the same tawny fires of hell that Erik’s eyes sometimes did.
    “I see.” Cassandra’s smile was real, and sad. “Heart and body are his. The soul is swiftly following.”
    “Other than see my dark warrior hanged,” Amber said coldly, “what would you have me do?”
    A toast was shouted by one of the knights. “Long life, wealth, and many sons!”
    Goblets were lifted high. Amber smiled as was expected and saluted with her own goblet before she took a sip.
    “Guard your soul,” Cassandra said.
    “How?”
    As Amber spoke, she watched Duncan’s hand. Strong, scarred, it made the heavy goblet he held appear almost delicate. After he set the goblet down, his fingertips roamed lightly over the gold design, testing its variations and textures.
    Amber would have given a great deal to have his hand caressing her rather than cold metal. She longed for him in a way that frightened her even as it set her afire.
    Then Duncan turned and saw Amber watching him. In the candlelight his eyes appeared more gold than hazel.
    And like candles, they burned.
    “Stay out of his bed, for one,” Cassandra said dryly.
    “What?” Amber said, looking at the other woman.
    “Each time you touch Duncan, you give him more of yourself. If you wish it to stop, then you must withhold yourself from the marriage bed.”
    “That is against God’s law.”
    “And your own desire.”
    Amber didn’t bother to deny it.
    “Erik knew the risk,” she said.
    “I wonder,” Cassandra muttered.
    “Be at rest,” Amber said dryly. “Erik’s gift is kin to yours, but is done without scrying stones. He sees—”
    “Opportunity for gain where others see only defeat,” Cassandra interrupted in a cold voice. “He is, however, human.”
    “So are all of us. Even you. In any case, Erikbelieved the gain to himself, the vassals, and the land was worth it.”
    “To himself?”
    “Yes. Why do you think he made Duncan steward of Stone Ring Keep?”
    “To give you a husband of reasonable wealth,” Cassandra said simply.
    “That is a result, not a reason.”
    Cassandra gave the younger woman a look from clear, rain-colored eyes.
    “Erik knows Duncan will be able to hold the keep,” Amber said, “freeing Erik to fight the Norse raiders at Winterlance.”
    “Ah, yes. The Norsemen.”
    Death will surely flow .
    Cassandra closed her eyes. “The Norsemen, too, know that a harsh winter is coming.”
    “Yes,” Amber said. “The messenger from Winterlance said that the raiders were but two days away.”
    “Did he say how many ships were sighted?”
    “One vassal saw