Medieval 03 - Enchanted

swine.”
    Simon grimaced. “Nay. ’Tis no fault of
yours. You should have none of the burden of Deguerre’s
anger.”
    “Then permit Amber to use her gift. It can be
done privately.”
    Simon closed his eyes. The passionate part of him,
the part that had never willingly bowed to logic, wanted to believe
that Ariane’s maidenhead had been taken by rape rather than
by seduction.
    And yet…
    For an instant Simon was standing on the
battlements as he had ten nights ago, the wind icy about him andAriane’s mouth a soft fire between his
legs.
    She could not have been a
raped virgin .
    Nor do I care. It is enough
that she wants me as no other woman has .
    And there is no doubt of that.
I have bathed repeatedly in the sultry fountains of her
desire .
    A shudder of raw hunger went through Simon as he
thought of Ariane’s abandoned response to his caresses. He
would spend a lifetime trying to get enough of her fire.
    Thank God she isn’t like
Marie, getting pleasure only from controlling a man .
    ’ Tis I who control
Ariane’s sensuality, not she who controls mine .
    “Simon?” Dominic asked.
    “Leave it be,” Simon said roughly.
“I find no fault with my wife as she is. Nothing Amber has to
say about the past is of interest to me.”
    A black eyebrow rose. Silver eyes narrowed
briefly.
    Simon returned the look as directly and coolly as
it was given to him.
    “What of the present?” Dominic
demanded.
    “You are the master of tactics,” Simon
retorted. “Tell me, Glendruid Wolf, how is Blackthorne better
served—by my accepting a bride whose sensuality and innocence
once led her astray, or by my avenging a maiden who was raped by a
dishonorable knight?”
    Though neither man spoke aloud, both remembered
what Amber had once said of Ariane’s buried emotions: A
scream never voiced. A betrayal so deep it all but killed her
soul.
    And this was what must not be
avenged .
    If Ariane had been raped.
    Better, far better, for Blackthorne if
Ariane’s betrayal had been of the more normal kind, a maid
seduced and then abandoned by a fickle knight.
    No vengeance was required for that. Merely
acceptance.
    And Simon accepted Ariane.
    Dominic let out a breath that was also a curse.
    “I see you begin to understand,” Simon
said coolly. “Some truths are better not known.”
    Hissing Saracen phrases poured from Dominic as he
swore over the trap from which even his tactical brilliance could
find no escape.
    “Aye,” Simon agreed bitterly.

“Aye and aye and aye! Listen to the wisdom of acceptance,
Glendruid Wolf. Let it be .”
    Grim-faced, silent, Dominic spun around and started
for the gate. Simon and Sven followed closely behind.
    The cobblestones were treacherous with ice in the
shadows and glistening with dampness in the thin light of the day.
Wind swirled, bringing with it the smell of snow. The thunder of
horses’ hooves over the wooden bridge and onto the
bailey’s cobblestones echoed throughout the keep.
    Erik was the first to dismount. He looked from
Dominic to Simon and then around the bailey.
    “All appears normal,” Erik said.
    “It was until the sentry spotted your party
coming from the wildwood,” Dominic said dryly.
    Erik swept off his helm and chain mail hood,
revealing sun-bright hair and the golden eyes of a wolf. He threw
back his head and whistled. The sound was high, haunting, like a
pipe played by a god. It was answered by the equally haunting cry
of a Learned peregrine.
    Winter swooped down out of the low clouds and
landed on her master’s gauntleted forearm.
    “Thank God all is calm,” Erik said.
“’Tis too stormy for Winter to be of much use as a
scout.”
    “’Tis too stormy to be traveling at
all,” Sven said. “You should have waited for the storm
to end.”
    “Cassandra feared that there wasn’t
enough time,” Duncan said, dismounting.
    “For what?” Dominic and Simon asked at
once.
    Erik and Duncan looked at Amber.
    “To scry the truth before it is too
late,” Amber said.
    “What truth?” Simon challenged.
    The naked anger in his voice startled Amber,
reminding her that Simon had once called her hell-witch. She took a
deep breath and faced the man who was watching her with black
eyes.
    “Cassandra said you would know which truth we
sought.”

28
    N o sooner had Erik and Duncan arrived
than sleet began to rattle across Blackthorne Keep’s stone
walls and pile in frozen heaps in the corners of the bailey.
Erik’s and Duncan’s men were bedded down in every