Medieval 03 - Enchanted

steamed slightly from the heat
of the fire.
    “Are you certain?” Simon asked.
“You were wet to the skin.”
    He had reason to know. He had stripped a shivering
Ariane of all garments save a long chemise. The rest of her clothes
were drying on lances wedged into cracks in the stone floor.
    Again Ariane nodded, for she knew her teeth would
chatter were she to risk unlocking her jaw to speak.
    Simon bent down and pulled his fur-lined mantle
more tightly around his wife. As he drew back his hands, his thumbs
traced the line of her jaw.
    A shiver coursed through Ariane that had nothing to
do with the temperature.
    “You’re chilled,” Simon said
instantly.
    “N-no. ’Tis you who wears nothing but
cold metal. Take b-back your mantle and warm yourself.”
    “God’s teeth .”
    Impatiently Simon undid the fastenings on his chain
mail hauberk and set it aside with an ease that belied the weight
of the armor. The task would have been more quickly accomplished
with his squire’s aid, but Edward was otherwise involved.
    Even if the lad had been standing about on one foot
and then the other, waiting to be of service, Simon wouldn’t
have called. He wanted no male to see Ariane in such an arresting
state of disarray.
    “Tomorrow you will wear that witchy
dress,” Simon said as he stripped off his soft leather shirt.
“It turns water like a duck’s back.”
    Ariane gave him a mutinous look. She hadn’t
worn the amethyst dress since she had realized that it was more
than it appeared to be.
    Or at least, the dress seemed to be more. It was
difficult to be certain when dealing with Learned things.
    In any case, the thought of the supple, warm fabric
stropping itself on Simon like a cat was unsettling. It made Ariane
wonder what it would feel like if it were her own hand stroking him
rather than the fabric.
    “I will wear what I p-please,” Ariane
said.
    Simon said something rude beneath his breath, threw
more wood on the bonfire, and sat next to his wife.
    The boughs the men-at-arms had gathered formed a
surprisingly comfortable mattress. The bedding that had been thrown
over the boughs was dry. So was Simon’s mantle, for the
Learned had done something to the fur lining they had given to
Simon that made it shed water. When it rained, he simply reversed
the mantle so that the fur side faced out.
    Ariane’s mantle, however, was of the more
usual variety. It was wet clear through, as were the clothes she
had worn. They steamed gently by the fire, hanging from lances like
bedraggled pennants.
    “By your leave, madam,” Simon said
sardonically.
    Simon took the fur mantle from Ariane’s hands
and whipped it around his own shoulders, which were now bare. She
made a startled sound as she felt herself lifted up. Very quickly
she was resettled in Simon’s lap.
    “Is something wrong?” he asked blandly,
drawing the warm mantle closely around both of them.
    “I—you are so q-quick. It makes me
f-forget that you are very strong as well.”
    “And you look like a drowned cat. It makes me
forget that you still have claws and a haughty
disposition.”
    “At l-least I don’t shed,” she
muttered.
    Simon laughed.
    For a time there was silence but for the crackle of
flames, the liquid murmur of rain, and random noisesfrom beyond the wall. Slowly the chills that had been
racking Ariane subsided. As the warmth of fire and man seeped into
her cold flesh, she sighed and relaxed a bit against Simon’s
seductive heat.
    When her cheek rested against the muscular pad of
his shoulder, Ariane was reminded that Simon wore no shirt. Except
for his supple leather breeches he was naked.
    The thought sent an odd sensation glittering
through her. It wasn’t quite unease.
    And it certainly wasn’t relaxation.
    From beyond the crumbling interior wall came a
breathless, definitely female cry.
    “Do you think Blanche is comfortable and
warm?” Ariane asked after a moment.
    Beneath her cheek, Simon’s chest moved as
though with silent laughter.
    “Warmer than you are,” he assured
her.
    “How so?”
    “She is lying between at least two strapping
young men.”
    Ariane made a startled sound.
    “Two?” she asked after a moment.
    A rumbling sound came from Simon that could have
been agreement. Or it could have been the contented purr of a very,
very large cat.
    “At once?” Ariane pressed.
    “Aye.”
    “Is that…comfortable?”
    “In what way?” Simon countered.
    Ariane couldn’t see the laughter in
Simon’s narrowed