Medieval 03 - Enchanted

cleared his throat, and tried again. “The peddler
said Ariane married another knight, for Duncan had been
bewitched.”
    “Some said that,” Simon
acknowledged.
    “You must know,” Geoffrey
challenged.
    “Why?”
    “If you are the Glendruid Wolf’s
brother, then it is you who wed Ariane!”
    “’Tis a well-informed peddler you
met,” Simon said.
    “You have my congratulations, sire,”
Geoffrey said.
    “You may have them back.”
    “Few men are lucky enough to wed a maid who
is beautiful, rich, and as passionate as a nymph,” Geoffrey
said, ignoring Simon’s aloofness. “By the Cross,
’tis a wonder you can stand at all after a night spent
between her…”
    Again, Geoffrey appeared to realize too late where
his words were going. He coughed, shrugged, and gave Simon a
sheepish smile.
    “I find no fault in my wife,” Simon
said evenly.
    “Of course not. ’Tis the very thing I
told the innkeeper at the Sign of the Fallen Tree when he talked of
a cold marriage made in haste,” Geoffrey said in a hearty
voice. “A girl of Ariane’s wanton nature would never be
able to keep herself from her husband’s bed.”
    Though Simon showed no outward response to
Geoffrey’s tactless words, Sven began measuring the knight
for a shroud.
    “Unless, of course,” Geoffrey continued
cheerfully, “Ariane were yearning for her first lover to the
point that she couldn’t force herself to permit another man
entrance to her snug little, er…bed.”
    “I have known magpies that were less
talkative than this creature,” Sven said casually.
“More fair of face, too.”
    “’Tis a thing that can be cured,”
Simon said. “The speech, that is. The face is beyond mortal
help.”
    “Have I offended you?” Geoffrey asked
Simon. “By the Cross, you are a sensitive soul. But then,
people with a sore spot do jump when it is touched, is that not
so?”
    Simon’s smile was a simple baring of
teeth.
    “I meant no offense,” Geoffrey said
carelessly. “If my clumsy congratulations on your
wife’s sensual nature irritate you, I can only hope to be
more precise with my praise in the future.”
    Sven shot a quick look at Simon, seeking a sign as
to how to handle the knight whose compliments were worse than any
insults Sven had ever heard delivered to Simon’s face.
    A moment later Simon’s fingers brushed
casually against Sven’s sword hand in an old signal for
caution.
    “Good evening, Ariane,” Simon said,
looking past Geoffrey. “Did you enjoy the herb
gardens?”
    “Ah, my little cabbage,” Geoffrey said,
turning quickly. “If you only knew how I have longed to be
within your warmth again. You have bewitched my very soul. I wither
out of your sight.”
    “Would that it were true,” Ariane said.
“I would lock myself in my room until you died.”
    With that, she went quickly to stand with Simon and
Sven.
    “I would be wounded, if I didn’t know
your heart of hearts,” Geoffrey said, smiling at Ariane.
“A married girl is a cautious girl, especially in the
presence of her husband, yes?”
    “I decided to play my harp along the
river,” Ariane said to Simon, ignoring Geoffrey.
    “Ah, that explains it,” Geoffrey
said.
    As he spoke, he gestured toward the bits of leaves
and brambles clinging to Ariane’s mantle.
    “Careless of you,” Geoffrey murmured.
“A jealous husband would think you had lain back upon your
mantle and spread your legs for a lover.”
    Ariane went white and gave Simon a horrified
glance. What she saw made ice condense in her blood.
    She had never seen Simon so furious.
    Nor so cold.
    “Simon is a man of reason, not
emotion,” Ariane said thinly.
    “’Tis good that you know him so
well,” Geoffrey said in an earnest voice. “Some would
think it cowardice rather than reason that guides your
husband.”
    Sven said something in the harsh northern language
of his mother.
    “This fine knight,” Simon said to
Ariane, “believes himself well beloved by your father. Is it
true?”
    “Aye,” Ariane said, making no attempt
to conceal the bitterness in her voice.
    “How well beloved?”
    “As much as my father can love
anything.”
    “Pity,” Simon said. “I would
rather feed this one to the pigs than feed pig to him at table
tonight.”
    “Is that an insult?” Geoffrey
demanded.
    “Why would a man of reason insult a knight
such as yourself?” Simon asked.
    “Because you suspect that your wife is in
love with me. Because you—”
    “Nay!” Ariane said