Medieval 02 - Forbidden

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    “Sven and I parted ways at Sea Home,” Simon said. “He wanted to chase rumors of a fully outfitted battle stallion roaming the forest like a wild animal, eluding all men who attempted to capture him. A great stallion of darkest brown…”
    Meg looked at Sven.
    “Duncan’s stallion?” she asked.
    “I suspected as much. I had heard Duncan whistling to him like a falcon. So I whistled through the forest until Shield came trotting up like a great hound, happy to be home again.”
    Meg turned back to Simon.
    “While Sven was combing the forest,” Simon said,“I chased rumors of odd comings and goings to Sea Home.”
    Meg’s breath was released swiftly.
    “That was a dangerous thing to do,” she said. “Sir Erik is reputed to be a sorcerer. Sea Home is ruled by him.”
    Simon’s clear black eyes gleamed with concealed laughter. Being fussed and worried over by a woman was new to him. He discovered that he rather liked it.
    Still smiling, Simon swept off his helm and set it on a trestle table next to Sven’s well-used helm.
    “Sir Erik’s sorcery—if such existed—didn’t extend to knowing my mind,” Simon said. “He accepted my story of being on a private religious quest.”
    Meg made a sound that could have meant anything, including impatience with her beloved brother-in-law.
    “I had been there only a few days when a man and a maid rode up to Sea Home,” Simon said. “The maid was dressed in shades of gold and wore precious amber as though it were brass.”
    “Amber?” Meg said intently.
    “Aye. It was her name, too.”
    Dominic sensed his wife’s sudden tension. He looked down at her in concern, but all her attention was on Simon.
    “Amber,” Meg repeated. “Just that?”
    “She was called the Untouched,” Sven said softly, “because no one, man or woman, was permitted to touch her.”
    A stillness came over Meg.
    “Continue,” she said to Simon.
    “I think rumor overstated the matter,” Simon said sardonically. “Amber clung to her companion like ivy to a powerful oak.”
    “Truly?” Meg asked, startled. “Then it couldn’t have been Amber the Untouched.”
    Simon and Sven looked at each other. It wasSimon who contradicted his lord’s Glendruid wife.
    “Perhaps not,” Simon said carefully, “but the knights and squires of Sea Home thought it was Amber, and they had known her for many years.”
    “How curious.”
    “Erik the Undefeated also called her Amber,” Simon added. “He used her to scry the truth of her companion’s thoughts.”
    “Ah, that is why she was touching the man, to gain knowledge,” Meg said. “She is one of the Learned.”
    “What are you talking about?” Dominic asked.
    “Don’t you remember?” Meg said. “When you were planning various ways to take Stone Ring Keep, I told you about the Learned.”
    Dominic frowned. “Aye, but frankly I didn’t credit the foolishness about sorcerers and shape-changers and prophecies and the like.”
    Amusement danced in Meg’s green eyes. Her husband wore the ancient likeness of the Glendruid Wolf, yet had little patience for things he couldn’t touch, measure, fight, lay siege to.
    Or make love to.
    “In some cases, my lord,” Meg murmured, “that which cannot be touched is more powerful than that which can be touched.”
    “A difficult truth for a warrior such as I,” Dominic said.
    Meg nodded.
    “But I have a very fine teacher,” he added, smiling. “I now know that the love of a Glendruid healer can take a warrior’s frozen heart, turn it inside out, and make it warm again.”
    The smile Meg and Dominic exchanged reminded Simon of nothing so much as Amber and Duncan. The comparison made him both angry and uncomfortable.
    “So,” Meg said, turning to Simon once more, “Amber was scrying her companion. Go on.”
    Simon and Sven exchanged another glance.
    “She may have been touching the man for the purpose of gaining knowledge,” Simon said in a clipped voice, “but she looked more like a maid with her lover.”
    “What does it matter?” Dominic asked with growing impatience. “It is Duncan who concerns me, not some Celtic witch.”
    “That is just the problem,” Simon retorted. “The witch’s companion was Duncan of Maxwell.”
    Instantly Dominic’s posture changed. He became like a falcon spotting prey from afar, poised for the sudden stoop.
    And the kill.
    “Was Duncan captive?” Dominic demanded.
    “He wore no visible bonds, save Amber’s fingers laid against