Medieval 03 - Enchanted

their
chilblains.”
    Meg started to object, saw the determination in
Dominic’s eyes, and understood that he wanted her gone from
the lord’s solar.
    “Of course,” she said.
“But—”
    “If I need you,” Dominic interrupted,

“I will send for you very speedily.”
    “Aye,” Meg said crisply, turning away.
“See that you do.”
    As the sound of Meg’s golden jesses faded
from the solar, Dominic turned to Sven.
    “Wait for a moment beyond the door,”
Dominic said. “I have a private matter to discuss with
Simon.”
    Sven could well guess what the matter was. He
turned and walked from the solar with a sense of frank relief. He
did not want to be in the vicinity when brother quizzed brother on
the subject of marital intimacy.
    “Did you and Ariane quarrel over her
rape?” Dominic asked bluntly.
    “No.”
    “Over her father?”
    “No.”
    “Over anything?”
    “There was no anger between us when we fell
asleep.”
    “Coldness?”
    Simon closed his eyes as a wave of hot memories
poured through him.
    “Nay,” Simon said huskily. “Far
from it. Ariane burns as no other woman on earth.”
    Dominic sighed and raked his fingers through his
hair.
    “It makes no sense!” snarled the
Glendruid Wolf. “Why is she gone?”
    “Perhaps she isn’t.”
    “And perhaps eels grow feathers and fly to
their spawning grounds,” Dominic retorted. “The keep is
not so large that a lady could be overlooked while wearing a
Learned dress embroidered with silver lightning.”
    Simon had no argument, for what Dominic said was
true.
    “I will search for her myself,” Simon
said.
    “Nay.”
    “Why?” demanded Simon harshly.
    “If you go crying from the battlements to the
herbal seeking your wife, Deguerre will seize the opportunity to
run shouting to king and duke alike that we have murdered his
precious daughter and hidden her dowry along with her corpse. Then
all hell will be let out for breakfast!”
    “I will be discreet,” Simon said
through his teeth.
    “Joseph and Mary,” Dominic muttered.
“At the moment you look as discreet as a Norse
berserker.”
    Simon barely managed to bite back a violent retort.
A deep uneasiness was riding him. The uneasiness had begun as he
helped the stonemasons and had increased with each stone laid.
    Then the storm had come down from the north, making
it all but impossible to lay stones.
    Deathly cold .
    “Put Leaper or Stagkiller onto Ariane’s
scent,” Simon said curtly.
    “Outside the keep? ’Tis futile. The
storm will have washed away all trace.”
    “Begin inside, with the parts of the keep
where Ariane rarely goes. If the scent is fresh…”
    Simon didn’t have to finish. Dominic was
already calling for a squire to bring Erik to the solar with his
wolfhound. Leaper was an easier matter. Dominic simply whistled and
the grey hound emerged from beneaththe table
where she had been questing for scraps.
    “Do you have something with Ariane’s
scent upon it, and only Ariane’s?” Dominic asked.
    “Her harp.”
    Dominic looked startled. “It isn’t with
her?”
    “Nay. It is by the side of our
bed.”
    For the first time, Dominic looked truly worried.
Never had he seen Ariane when her harp wasn’t within
reach.
    “Get the harp and go to the wellhead,”
Dominic said tightly. “We will begin there.”
    By the time Simon retrieved the harp and arrived at
the level where the wellhead and garrison were, Stagkiller and Erik
were already waiting.
    “Stagkiller found no groups of men who had
hidden without fires,” Erik said to Dominic.

“’Tis simply too cold.”
    “Sven said the same thing. Nor are any of
Deguerre’s men heading for Stone Ring Keep or Sea
Home.”
    “Better that they did,” Erik said.
“Cassandra will be planning unpleasant welcomes. We could use
fewer of the enemy underfoot.”
    “Aye. By both your estimate and Sven’s,
Deguerre has at least two and probably three times the number of
fighters we do.”
    “Were the Baron Deguerre outside the walls
rather than lounging at table in the great hall, I would say we
were under siege,” Erik muttered.
    “As it is,” Dominic said dryly as Simon
walked up, “we are merely under the threat of siege.”
    “Who courses first, Leaper or
Stagkiller?” Simon asked baldly.
    “Leaper,” Dominic said. “She has
free run of the keep. No one will remark her comings and
goings.”
    Dominic bent to the slender hound, gave her a low
command, and indicated the harp in Simon’s hand. Though