Medieval 02 - Forbidden

mother.”
    Duncan made an odd sound. “Somehow I remembered that.”
    “John?”
    “Nay. Being a bastard.” Duncan closed his eyes. “Meggie, for the love of God, let me go to Amber .”
    The naked plea in Duncan’s voice made Meg’s throat ache.
    “Hold a dagger to Duncan’s throat if you must,” she said to Dominic, “but let me see into his eyes.”
    Without a word Dominic drew his battle dagger, knelt, and laid the blade across Duncan’s throat.
    “Be very still,” Dominic said calmly. “I value you, but I value my wife above all else.”
    Duncan ignored the dagger, having attention only for the Glendruid woman who was kneeling close to him, attended by a muted murmuring of bells. Eyes the burning green of spring unleashed looked into Duncan’s own eyes, seeing him in the uncanny way of Glendruid women.
    For a long time there was silence but for the wind pulling bright autumn leaves from branches.
    “Let Duncan go to her,” Meg said finally.
    “Nay!” Simon said, his voice as fierce as his eyes. “Duncan was my friend and that hell-witch stole his mind!”
    With a graceful motion, Meg stood and went to her brother-in-law. His fair hair gleamed like gold in the sun, but his eyes were slices of moonless night.
    “Duncan is not bewitched,” Meg said.
    Simon looked into the fathomless green of Glendruid eyes. Then he looked away to the girl who lay unmoving beneath a blanket.
    “How can you say that? The hell-witch took his memory,” Simon said savagely. “’Tis as clear as day!”
    “To practice the black arts thus would have lefta mark on Duncan’s soul that nothing save God could erase,” Meg said. “Duncan has no such mark.”
    Simon looked back at Meg.
    “Do you think,” she asked softly, “that I would knowingly set an enemy in our midst?”
    “No.”
    “Do you think I would put Dominic’s life at risk in any way?”
    “Nay,” Simon said. “Never.”
    The certainty in his voice was reflected in his eyes. He knew to the depths of his soul that Meg loved his brother in a way Simon had never thought to see a woman love any man.
    Meg saw Simon’s faith in her and touched his cheek in brief thanks.
    “Then believe me,” she whispered, “when I say that Duncan is not bewitched.”
    “If it were anyone but you speaking…” Simon said, raking his fingers through his fair hair.
    Meg waited.
    With a resigned gesture, Simon turned away. “I’ll bring the hell-witch to him myself.”
    “Nay!” Duncan said violently. “Don’t you understand? Your hatred wounds her .”
    Simon looked at Meg.
    “Duncan,” Meg said, “if we untie you, will you vow not to attack us?”
    “As long as you don’t further wound Amber, yes.”
    Dominic put his hand on Meg’s arm when she would have drawn her own dagger to cut Duncan free.
    “Slowly, small falcon,” Dominic said. “We have had Duncan’s word in the past and found it without value.”
    When Duncan realized what Dominic was saying, he flushed with anger.
    And then he turned pale.
    “Am I forsworn?” Duncan asked starkly. “Do you know of any vow I have broken?”
    Dominic saw the depth of Duncan’s emotion and knew that whatever had happened since Duncan had come to the Disputed Lands, the Scots Hammer had not knowingly broken his word.
    “Do you know me?” Dominic asked almost gently.
    Duncan stared at the Glendruid Wolf as though sight alone could put together the elusive fragments of the past.
    But it could not.
    “I…should.” Duncan’s voice was hoarse with effort. “I sense it, but…”
    “You don’t know me,” Dominic finished.
    “No,” Duncan whispered.
    “Then you are not forsworn,” Dominic said simply. “Cut his bonds, Meg. Duncan has given his word not to attack unless we harm the witch.”
    Dagger in hand, Meg bent over the cords. No sooner had she cut through them than Duncan sprang to his feet and went to where Amber lay.
    The coolness of her skin shocked an oath from him.
    Hurriedly Duncan lay down beside Amber, lifted her slack body against his, and wrapped the blanket around both of them, trying to warm her flesh with his own.
    “Precious Amber,” he whispered. “What has happened to you?”
    There was no answer.
    The Scots Hammer bent his head, hiding his face in the unbound gold of Amber’s hair.
    “I did but pull her from her horse,” Simon said, baffled. “I swear it.”
    “It isn’t your fault,” Meg said. “Whether Learned or Glendruid, a gift is also a curse.”
    “I