Medieval 02 - Forbidden

vassals had come to fully approve the keep’s seneschal.
    Before the commotion had settled, Duncan stood up, drawing Amber with him.
    “Come and ride with me,” he said. “I find I enjoy your knowledge of the keep and its vassals as much as I need it.”
    “Where shall we ride this time?”
    “Where we have ridden every day since we wed,” Duncan said, nodding to the vassals as they cleared a way for him through their ranks.
    “The southern trail through Wild Rose hamlet and the fields to the forest,” Amber said, smiling. “’Tis my favorite ride. Wild Rose creek sounds like laughter.”
    Only two horses waited out in the bailey. There were so few fighting men left at Stone Ring Keep that Duncan refused to put them to work as an unneeded escort when he and Amber rode out over the keep’s land. No outlaws had been seen or heard within half a day’s ride of the keep since one of their kind had been hanged by Erik.
    Duncan lifted Amber onto her horse, then mounted his own. As always after settling into the saddle, he checked the position of his sword and that of the hammer. To Duncan, the gestures were as natural as breathing.
    Side by side, the two horses clattered through the bailey and thumped over the stout wooden draw-bridge. As they rode, Amber answered questions concerning the history of the various fields, who tilled them and how well, who was freeholder and who was serf, who was well and who was ill.
    “I don’t think you ride out along this path to hear the creek,” Amber said finally as they rode into the forest.
    “I ride out to have you teach me about the keep.”
    “And Hawk Hill, which lies close to our way, is a good viewpoint to look out upon the keep’s land,” she said.
    Duncan nodded.
    “You will make Erik a fine seneschal.”
    “I would make him a better warrior.”
    “He doesn’t doubt your mettle,” Amber said.
    “Then why won’t he use me at Winterlance, where Norsemen are rumored to be thick as summer grass in the fields?” Duncan asked angrily.
    “You are more valuable to him here. Only Saturday last, one of his cousins was sniffing about the vassals, testing their will.”
    Duncan grunted.
    “By now,” Amber said, “Erik’s cousins know that Stone Ring Keep has a new seneschal who is much respected by the vassals.”
    When Duncan didn’t answer, Amber looked at him unhappily. He was glancing around with narrowed eyes, as though searching for something.
    And his hand lay on his sword hilt.
    “Duncan? Is something amiss?”
    He started and looked toward Amber. Her heart stopped, then quickened fiercely.
    For an instant he hadn’t known her .
    Duncan looked down at his partially drawn sword and then over his shoulder. Behind them, fanning out from the point where cart path and forest merged, the keep’s fields lay darkly beneath a peaceful sky.
    Beyond the fields, clouds lay against the fells like languid harem girls awaiting their lord’s pleasure. Over all poured the sun, its rich golden light a healing benediction.
    Turning in the saddle, Duncan looked ahead. The lord’s forest still wore an autumnal blaze of yellow and red and orange. Frost-killed weeds clung in brittle disarray to rocks and fallen limbs. Leaves dried by three windy, rainless days swirled around the horses’ fetlocks as they walked side by side along the cart road.
    When Duncan showed no sign of answering her question, Amber braced herself in the stirrups andleaned toward him. Fingers that trembled slightly closed over the wrist of his sword hand.
    Nothing came to Amber through the touch but the savage conflict within Duncan’s mind.
    “Do you know me?” Amber asked, her voice urgent.
    Duncan’s eyes focused on her and he laughed in surprise. He picked up her hand and kissed her palm.
    “I know you as well as I know my own heart,” he said.
    “But a moment ago you looked at me as though I were a stranger!”
    Amusement faded from Duncan’s eyes, leaving only the shadows that haunted him relentlessly.
    “A moment ago,” he said, “I was lost in shades of darkness.”
    Amber made an unhappy sound.
    “Part of me constantly cries danger,” Duncan added grimly. “Part of me constantly scoffs. I feel like a haunch being gnawed by two wolves.”
    He laced Amber’s fingers between his. For a time they rode slowly, side by side, talking little, letting the brilliant colors of autumn brighten all shadows.
    Duncan and Amber were still holding hands when a weighted net sailed out of