Medieval 03 - Enchanted

Meg said. “Is
there some way in which I could serve you?”
    Ariane gave the Glendruid girl a curious
glance.
    “’Tis I who should be serving
you,” Ariane said. “You are the lady of the keep, and
heavy with child. I am but a guest.”
    “Nay.” Meg’s response was instant
and earnest. “You and your marriage to Simon are very
important to Blackthorne and to the Disputed Lands.”
    Silently Ariane nodded while her fingers strummed
without purpose on the harp.
    “Without your marriage,” Meg said
urgently, “war would once again claw at the very life of my
people.”
    Again Ariane nodded.
    “Yet I fear it isn’t enough for you and
Simon to be joined in the sight of God and man,” Meg said in
a strained voice. “I have dreamed in the Glendruid
way.”
    Ariane went still. “Of what?”
    “Of two halves that refuse to be made whole.
Of rage. Of betrayal. Of ravens pecking out
the eyes of my unborn babe .”
    A shocked sound was all Ariane could manage. Her
throat closed around protests and questions that were futile. There
was nothing to be said that could undo Meg’s grim Glendruid
dream.
    “What must I do?” asked Ariane.
    Her voice was dry, aching, barely more than a
whisper.
    “Heal that which lies festering between you
and Simon,” Meg said bluntly. “You are the two stubborn
halves that threaten the whole of Blackthorne and the Disputed
Lands.”
    “What of Simon?” Ariane retorted.
“Has he no part in this healing?”
    Meg’s normally full lips flattened into a
harsh line. “Simon says he has done all that he can. I
believe him.”
    Ariane looked down at her harp and said
nothing.
    “I know my husband’s brother,”
Meg said evenly. “Simon is proud, stubborn, and as quick with
his temper as he is with his sword. Simon is also as loyal a man as
ever drew breath. It is Dominic who commands Simon’s
loyalty.”
    “Yes,” whispered Ariane. “To be
blessed with another’s loyalty like that…”
    She couldn’t finish. Eyes closed, fearing
even to breathe, Ariane waited for the trap to close around
her.
    Again.
    “If there were aught to be done for his
brother’s benefit, Simon would do it,” Meg said
simply.
    Ariane nodded, fighting back the unexpected
tightness of her throat as she thought of Simon’s loyalty.
With each heartbeat, the tension in her throat increased until she
was afraid she would cry out. It was as though sorrow somehow
burned inside her, waiting to be quenched by tears.
    But that was impossible.
    She hadn’t wept since nightmare had closed
cruelly around her. She wouldn’t weep now. A woman’s
tears accomplished nothing, save to call down the contempt of
priests, fathers, and dishonorable knights.
    “Thus,” Meg continued relentlessly,
“the cause for your marriage being less than it seems comes
from you, rather than from Simon.”
    “Yes,” Ariane whispered.
    Meg waited.
    Silence expanded until it filled the room to
suffocation.
    “I ask again, Lady Ariane: How may I serve
you?”
    It was more a demand than a request.
    “Can you change the nature of man and woman
and betrayal?” Ariane asked.
    “Nay.”
    “Then there is nothing to be done to make
Simon’s marriage better.”
    “’Tis your marriage as well,” Meg
pointed out crisply.
    “Yes.”
    “You lie with Simon at night, yet there is a
distance between you two that is greater than that lying between
the Disputed Lands and the Holy Land.”
    Ariane gave Meg a sideways glance.
    “It takes no special Glendruid sight to see
the estrangement between you and your husband. The people of the
keep talk of little else,” Meg said bluntly.
“God’s teeth, what is wrong?”
    “Nothing that can be set aright.”
    Meg blinked and then went quite still. “What
do you mean? Speak plainly.”
    “You seek to cure an ailing marriage by
sexual congress,” Ariane said, each word precise. “I
tell you that such a ‘cure’ will result in the very
disaster you seek to avoid.”
    There was silence while Meg absorbed Ariane’s
unexpected words.
    “I don’t believe I understand,”
Meg said carefully.
    “Be grateful. I understand all of
betrayal’s cruel aspects. Such knowledge is a curse I
wouldn’t wish upon Satan himself, much less upon Simon the
Loyal.”
    “Don’t juggle words with me,”
snarled Meg. “It is my unborn babe at risk!”
    Startled, Ariane looked at the smaller
woman’s searing green eyes. For the first time Ariane
understood thatGlendruid healers had the