Captive Heart (22 page)

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Authors: Phoebe Conn

BOOK: Captive Heart
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Glancing toward their weapons, which were stored in the corner, Celiese tried to make the best possible choice. Her bow and arrows would inflict only insignificant wounds, enrage the bear and leave her in more danger than he would be. She’d thrown Mylan’s spear only half a dozen times and had no confidence in using it as yet. The axe was useful for chopping wood, but she’d have to be far stronger than she was to swing it with sufficient power to kill the beast with one blow, and she’d have no second chance. She sat up then, hugging her knees as she tried to think of what to do. The small silver hammer brushed her hand, and, thinking of Mylan, she glanced toward the carved chest that held his belongings and an additional alternative came to her mind. His possessions included a magnificent sword, double-edged and sharp enough to slay a man with one blow. Could it also be used to kill a bear? She got up quickly, removed his clothing from the trunk and found the sword where she’d first seen it. It was heavy, difficult for her to hold. But there was a rocky ledge above the bear’s cave, and if she were to wait there for the animal to appear and strike him in the neck she just might be able to kill him before he had a chance to kill her. She’d have to leave at dawn, make her way to the other side of the forest, and gather wood near the bear’s cave. When she was certain he was asleep, she would make the preparations for the fire, light it at dawn, then climb up upon the ledge. It was possible the plan would work as she imagined it would, but if it did not, she would at least have the satisfaction of knowing she had died fighting rather than spent what remained of her life as a captive. The whole idea terrified her, and yet it was her only chance to gain her freedom. She would have to kill the bear or die trying, and she had simply no other choice. She’d leave at dawn, make her way to the bear’s territory, and pray he had had many fine meals that summer and would not be tracking her scent while she planned his death. She’d go in the morning, and if she were successful then the next time she saw Mylan she would be free and he could no longer call her a slave nor reject the love she wanted so desperately to offer him as only a wife could. Her problems solved for the moment, she prepared for bed, knowing she would need strength as well as cunning. She fell asleep promptly, letting the rest she needed wash the fatigue from her muscles as well as her mind.

When his temper cooled Mylan retraced his steps. If anyone were to sleep under the stars that night it should be Celiese, and he vowed that if she was still angry with him when he returned home he’d simply turn her out and sleep alone in his own bed—which was what he should have done in the first place. Finding the door unbarred, he entered the house cautiously, but Celiese was sound asleep, curled up upon his bed with a contented smile upon her face, as if her dreams were most entertaining, and he was disappointed to see that their argument had affected her so slightly. She had simply gone to bed as if nothing were amiss, and it annoyed him tremendously to think she had given so little thought to his comfort that if he had stayed away all night it would not have troubled her sleep.

The night was warm, and Celiese lay uncovered upon the furs, her pose a most attractive one. Mylan found his anger quickly replaced with desire. He was swift to cast off his own clothing, then bent over her, letting his lips slide down her spine to trail light kisses over her moist skin as he joined her upon the bed. Thinking the curve of her slender hip equally inviting, he caressed her lightly, teasing her slowly awake with a tantalizing touch that was sweeter than any dream could ever be.

Celiese snuggled against Mylan, the few hours they’d been apart forgotten as she pulled him into her arms. He gave her no opportunity to speak, but she would never have apologized for she was far too eager for his kiss to waste precious minutes discussing an argument that should never have taken place. Her plans already made, she wanted only to tell him good-bye with affection so lavish he’d never forget her should she be unable to return to his arms.

Mylan wound his fingers in Celiese’s silken curls, hoping to hold her fast, but although he’d captured her lips with his own, he felt her hands moving over him with a honey-smooth touch which aroused his passions to an intensity he could scarcely endure. She moved beneath him then, her hands now encircling his waist to press down upon the small of his back, and he could no longer delay the pleasure he knew they would create together. He thought of her as delicate despite her seductive ways, and moved with practiced gentleness to dominate her lissome body with the fierce strength of his own. Agile and sure, he held her enfolded in his embrace, wanting now to conquer her more completely than he ever had. Their bodies joined in an ageless rhythm, the warm, sweet depths of her being welcoming each of his thrusts until the ecstasy she gave washed over him with the shattering power of a cresting wave and he was lost in her embrace. She covered his face with light kisses, then whispered the most flattering of endearments in his ear, but he could think of no words to describe his ever growing need for her, when surely it was a weakness he should fight with all his strength rather than enjoy to the fullest as he did. Savoring the taste of her kiss, he ceased to worry over who had triumphed that night when she gave so generously of her love. This surrender was the only one he needed to make his life complete. Her beauty was superb, her capacity for giving pleasure limitless, and he was sorry he’d wasted so much of the evening walking the forest alone when the joy of being with her was all that made his life worth living.

Chapter Twelve

While Mylan fell into a deep, contented sleep, Celiese lay wide awake in his arms, sadly recalling the weeks she’d spent in his home. If only he had just once spoken of love, or of how much he had come to care for her, she would have some cause to hope their future would be a bright one, but as always he had given unsparingly of his body without voicing a hint of the emotions that filled his heart. Her choice had already been made before he’d returned home that night, but his silence had sealed her fate as surely as she prayed his sword would seal that of the bear.

She left his bed as soon as the first light of dawn lit the small house with a soft golden glow and she could see well enough to gather the things she required. She dressed quickly, then put on the silver necklace Mylan had given her, knowing she’d need every manner of luck she could summon that day. She placed the flint he always carried into her pocket, slipped his dagger under her belt and took his sword from the chest where it had lain hidden. She was ready to depart. Wishing there were some way to make the proud man realize how dearly she loved him, Celiese hesitated. When she could tarry no longer she bent down to give him a light kiss upon the cheek and whispered softly, “Do not forget me, my darling, for I have loved you well.” Turning swiftly before her tears fell upon his face and awakened him, she hurried through the door and ran toward the stream just as she had the day she’d fled the house fearing she’d soon be sold to the rude pair who had come to visit Mylan. Her terror was every bit as real as it had been that day, for her situation was no less desperate. She’d not understood his sullen silence then and still didn’t. His touch was always tender, his manner gentle, so why couldn’t he return the love she gave to him with words? Was it only the fact that she was a slave that made him so reticent, or something more, a reason far deeper than any she could imagine? She continued to torment herself with unanswerable questions, wanting Mylan’s love so badly at the same time she feared she might not survive the day to see him again.

There were many trails through the forest, and since she’d always had Mylan to lead the way when they’d gone hunting she got lost more than once, circling past trees she recognized as landmarks again and again. But still she pushed on, hoping to find her way to the bear’s cave before darkness fell. She’d not thought it necessary to bring food, but now she was hungry and sorry she’d been so foolish as to leave the house without any provisions. It was late afternoon when she sighted the uprooted tree where she’d once taken shelter for the night. Knowing the bear’s den was nearby, she grew doubly cautious. Scanning the underbrush carefully, she found the trail upon which Mylan had taken her and made her way stealthily to the spot behind the trees where they’d been able to see the cave. She stood perched on the balls of her feet, ready to run at the slightest provocation, but she heard no sounds other than the soft calling of the birds overhead in the trees. The cave was exactly as she had remembered it, set back in the rocks of the hillside, and the ledge that hung over it looked both easy to climb and solid enough to support her slight weight. Seeing no sign of the bear, she approached the lair slowly, finding the animal’s scent strong. He had been there the previous night, she was certain of it, and prayed he would return that night as well. Forcing herself to be brave, she scampered up the side of the hill to test the ledge, gauging the angle from which she’d have to strike with the sword before climbing down with all possible haste. She ran then, her destination the meadow where Mylan had shot the deer. Skirting the edge of the wide field, she gathered branches for the fire she’d need, bundling the dry wood with green and carrying it back to the trees close to the bear’s den. She was careful to select a spot downwind so as not to attract the bear’s notice, and then she began practicing with the flint to be certain she could start a fire in the dim light of dawn. She’d often watched Mylan build fires and understood the process, but she rehearsed it repeatedly, too anxious to leave such an important step to chance. It was nearly dark when she heard the bear returning to his lair, his low growls sending shivers of fright up her spine, but she remained hidden among the trees and her presence went undetected. Huddled in the shadows she waited for the night to pass, blowing on her hands for warmth while she sang softly to herself to stay awake, but most often her mind was filled with thoughts of the handsome man who’d won her heart. She gripped his charm tightly, the coolness of the silver reminding her all too vividly of the differences between them. If she did not live to reach home, then she hoped he would remember the last night they’d spent together as being as beautiful as all the others, for she knew if the bear were to attack her as savagely as he’d mauled Mylan there would be nothing left of her for him to recognize, let alone remember. That gruesome prospect kept her wide awake until dawn lent a faint tint of rose to the eastern sky, and, after stretching to gain confidence that her tired muscles would not fail her, she carried the wood she’d gathered to the entrance of the cave and placed it just inside. Her fingers shook badly as she struck the flint, but the dry wood caught fire instantly and in a moment ignited the green branches, which burned with billows of acrid smoke. The morning breeze carried the evil-smelling fumes well into the dark recess in the hillside and Celiese took up the heavy sword and climbed up to the rocky ledge to await her prey.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears while the fire crackled and surrounded her with smoke so thick she was nearly blinded. She was afraid she’d outsmarted herself rather than the bear, but at last she heard a low growl and then another. She braced herself carefully against the rocks, and when the enraged beast appeared at the mouth of the cave seeking relief from the dense smoke that had disturbed his slumber he had no chance to escape her forceful downward blow. The sharp edge of the steel blade caught him on the side of the neck, slashing his dark fur and severing the veins in his throat, sending a bright fountain of crimson blood spewing so high into the air that it splashed Celiese, dampening her soft suede clothing with gore.

Terrified, Celiese shrieked more loudly than the wounded bear, but she held on to the shining weapon, ready to strike again. But the bloodied animal staggered back into his smoke-filled lair and was quiet, leaving her no choice but to wait on the ledge as the sun rose. She dared not relax her pose when at any minute the beast might again come lumbering out into the open. He would now surely be able to sense her presence, since the fire had died down to no more than a few wisps of smoke and her scent would fill the air. She heard no sound at all from deep within the cave, but she still shook with the fright of her grisly deed. Her mouth was dry, her breath escaping her throat in hoarse gasps, but she dared not leave the ledge until she was certain the beast was dead. When she’d heard nothing by the time the sun was high overhead she was convinced he could not possibly have survived the vicious blow she’d dealt him. Now her mind focused upon another problem, for even though she’d slain the bear, Mylan had asked for proof, and she could not possibly skin the animal unless she were able to drag the carcass out into the sunshine so she’d have room and light enough to work. The beast had been immense, weighing far too much for her to attempt to move unassisted, so what was she to do? Her only choice would be to summon Mylan to help her, and, after waiting a short while longer simply for safety’s sake, she climbed down from the ledge and ran back through the trees, hoping she would not become as lost on her way home as she had on her journey there.

When Mylan had awakened to find Celiese gone he had not been greatly worried. That she’d left him no breakfast was annoying, but he promptly prepared his own rather than go without or wait for her return to eat. When he could not find his dagger he feared it was misplaced and tried to recall if he’d had it with him when he’d gone out for a walk the previous evening. If he’d lost it on his walk he would never be able to find it, for he’d paid no attention as he’d wandered through the woods and could not recall where he’d been. It was far too warm a day to require flint to light a fire, and so he did not notice that it was also missing before he left the house to begin a series of troublesome chores that could no longer be ignored.

He worked all day, expecting his ambitious slave to appear at any moment with game for their supper, but when he returned to his home in the afternoon he found her bow and quiver where she’d left them the day before and was angry with himself for not noticing them earlier. It was then he began to wonder where she could have gone and what her purpose might have been if it were not to hunt. Perplexed by that mystery, he sat down to enjoy some ale while he considered what her options were. There was honey, of course, and wild berries, which they enjoyed, but had she gone to search for those delicacies she would have returned by now. He grew increasingly anxious and got up from his chair frequently to go to the door and survey the path that led to the woods, hoping to see her approaching. Too late he realized that Celiese was not coming home, and his rage was too fierce to contain, for he’d not thought the young woman would ever dare to run away from him again. He threw himself angrily down upon the furs and attempted to sleep, but could not. At the first light of dawn he set out to look for her.

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