Knight of Runes (19 page)

Arik spent the next hour drinking mead and sorting things out.
Was Logan right about Katherine all along? She did try to control him. What was her plan?
He stood on the terrace, watching his men tend the bonfire while it burned itself out. In the veil of smoke, he saw Rebeka’s penetrating violet eyes. The bonfire was no match for the fire of desire that claimed every part of him. He finished the mead and headed to the cottage.

What was the woman’s purpose? Was she like Katherine?
He saw her standing in front of the cottage door staring up at the clear sky with her arms wrapped around her.

“Do you always come out at this time to gaze at the sky?”

She turned and smiled as he joined her on the small porch. “Yes, it is beautiful but no I don’t come out here often.” A gentle sigh escaped her lips. “I simply didn’t want the evening to end.” She placed her hand on his chest. “Arik, it was a wonderful festival. Thank you.”

He covered her hand with his and started his campaign. He took her eyes first. Once secured, he moved his initiative forward. He put his hand behind her head and drew her close to him.

Her tongue flashed out and she moistened her lips.

The movement tantalized him. He ran his thumb over her full lower lip.

The intimate touch burned him like a brand.

The air sizzled with power. At ease in this element, he focused on her eyes and the silver flecks that sparkled in the moonlight. He memorized her face, devouring the image of her.
Mine,
was all he heard beating like a drum from some deep dark place.
Mine,
with every beat of his heart.

Her hair fell softly around her shoulders and a gentle wave escaped over her right eye. With his forefinger, he gently pushed the dark brown veil away and hooked it behind her ear. His hand lingered on her hair. It was soft, like fine silk. He crushed it in his hand as he brought her head to his chest in a gentle caress. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sweet torture as her body melted into his.
Mine.

Reluctantly he released her and she moved away, the soft gown hugging her body accentuating every curve. His eyes gravitated to the large tawny sapphire nestled in the cleft of her breasts.

“There have been several times during this evening that I’ve envied the gem.” His voice sounded husky even to him. His arms circled her.

She looked down at the gem then up at him with a devastating smile. “I’ll have to ask Jeannie if I can borrow it again.” A soft blush painted her face a soft pink.

He pulled her close. His heart pounded an erratic rhythm. The anticipation was almost unbearable. “Sweet Rebeka, make me immortal with your kiss.” He covered her mouth with his, tasting the mead still on her breath. He pulled away and gazed into her eyes. The very air around them sizzled with power.

She stared at him unable to speak.

“‘Her lips suck forth my soul; see where it flies! Come, give me my soul again.’”

“You surprise me, quoting Christopher Marlowe,” she whispered so softly he could barely hear. “I wouldn’t think you a romantic.”

“It seems there is much about me you don’t know.” He raised one eyebrow with a flourish that made her giggle. He took a seat in the lone chair and gently pulled her into his lap. Tenderly, he drew her closer and seared her with another kiss, this one long and deep. Her lips parted for him and let the tip of his tongue advance, a small victory. He deepened the kiss and her arms around him tightened.

He lifted his head and nibbled on her earlobe. A soft moan escaped her lips. With a shudder, she held on to him, stretching to place kisses up his neck.

It was a delicious sensation. When she reached his lips he knew he was lost. He took her face in both his hands and looked at her passion-drenched eyes and swollen bruised lips. His decision made, he gently pulled her head to his chest and willed the storm to subside. He stroked her hair as the charged air settled, and a warm breeze caressed them both. After several minutes, her deep breathing told him she had fallen asleep. He sat for a few minutes and enjoyed holding her. He would tell the king he would not give her back.

“Beka. It’s time to wake.” The short form of her name slipped out, like an endearment.

“Hmm.” She snuggled deeper into his arms.

He brushed the hair out of her eyes and stood up with her in his arms. He pushed the cottage door open, laid her on the bed and covered her with the blanket.

“Pleasant dreams,” he whispered in her ear. He closed the door behind him. Whistling, he crossed the road to the Manor.

In her darkened room, Katherine stood at the window. Her hand crushed the brocade drapery when she spotted Arik at the cottage with Rebeka. Tied to her perch like a bird of prey, she stared at the love birds in the midst of their opening salvo. She closed her eyes for a moment, the liquid heat gathering. They opened in time to see him carry Rebeka inside the cottage. Shock, as if she’d been doused by cold water, laced through her followed by a deadly anger. If the tapestries at the window were shutters, the crash slamming them shut would have been heard throughout the valley.

Katherine had kept them in her line of sight all day.
How much longer must I endure this? No, I’ll be patient. She’ll not get in the way.
She paced in front of the closed curtain.
I am too close to the prize to lose it now.
Back and forth, back and forth.
I’ve got to put an end to her interference!
The pacing did nothing to soothe her. Only getting rid of Rebeka would appease her now.

The light sound of Arik’s footsteps on the stairs distracted her. She opened her door to peer out into the hall, glad the candle in her room wasn’t lit.

Arik walked down the hall to his room whistling. She slipped into a black silk nightdress, a dramatic contrast to her golden hair which she let down and brushed until it was silky. It was her best feature, she knew—she watched men flex their hands itching to touch it.

A final look in the mirror, a pinch of her cheeks, and she was ready. She stole silently out of her room, and glided into the hallway. How many times had she lain in bed and thought about this night, planning each maneuver. She would resist a bit to make him hunger for her and then let him bed her. She must bind him to her. It wouldn’t take much. Reaching his room, she opened the door and entered. The fire burned. His festival clothes were on the chair, but the room stood empty. Exasperated, she raced downstairs but all was dark and abandoned. She stood by the library window, her eyes gravitating to the cottage. The light dimmed and went out.

When did he go back to her?
 She stood tormenting herself. Determination and jealousy warred in her breast.

High in his tower room, Arik lay on the bed trying to make sense of his suspicions and desires. He had never been drawn to anyone with such a hunger. Try as he may he couldn’t stop the feelings, nor did he want to. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. Guilt permeated his thoughts.

He swore to the king he would protect Letty after his brother-in-law died. It was his only mission. Hadn’t he sacrificed all else? Hadn’t he delayed claiming his betrothed? An ache squeezed his heart as he allowed the deep hidden feeling to the surface. He had failed.

From the time he was a young boy he had been betrothed to the Grand Druid’s daughter. The match was long overdue but he had done nothing to find her. He raked his hand through his hair. How could he claim her? It was his duty but who was he fooling? He couldn’t protect a wife any better than he had protected Letty. He had tried to do the honorable thing and dissolve the betrothal but the Grand Druid held him to his word. When that didn’t work Arik had renounced all his druid powers, had them taken away.

And now…Rebeka. How much longer would he be able to protect her?

He had lost everything. His sister, his future and, if he followed his heart, possibly his king. Jamie sent Rebeka here. Would he let her stay? Arik’s thoughts battled on throughout the night. By morning he had resolved what he must do. He would have Rebeka. Fight for her if necessary—any man, his king, even the Grand Druid himself. Anyone. He would not give Rebeka up, ever.

“Lady Katherine! Lady Katherine, come quickly!” Jeannie knocked on Katherine’s door.

“Go away! It’s too early for anyone to be awake,” Katherine commanded.

“Mary is getting ready to birth her baby. I think you want to be there.”

What would she say to these peasants? Even the elders were well beneath her.

Jeannie should be going. A peasant’s birth. Arik and his demands.
She wouldn’t have to put up with this much longer.

“Call whoever is on guard for an escort into the village. I’m not going to traipse through the village unescorted at this hour.” She pushed Jeannie to move.

“I already called him, m’lady. Nickolas is waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs.”

She grabbed her shawl out of Jeannie’s hand and left to meet the guard.

The village stood dark and empty at the early hour. Katherine and Nickolas turned toward the miller’s house, the moonlight lighting their way. In the distance, the house looked like a welcome beacon in a sea of darkness with lights blazing and people coming and going. The house overflowed with people.

The conversation stopped when Katherine arrived, and resumed again in hushed tones.

Mary was surrounded by the other women from the village. “I’m sorry to disturb you, m’lady,” Mary said when the pain subsided and she was able to speak.

“Will it be long?”

“I don’t suspect it will be, m’lady. The other two came quick enough.” Mary smiled before the next pain grabbed her.

“M’lady, we have everything in hand here. You’d be more comfortable in the other room.”

“How very thoughtful of you…” Katherine struggled for the woman’s name. “Molly?”

“Yes, m’lady, I’m Molly, the blacksmith’s wife.”

“M’lady,” said Nickolas. “I must go and check the watch. I’ll send one of the men to escort you back when you are ready.”

She waved him away. She wanted to leave now. Waiting with these people, well it was painful. Alfred gave her a comfortable chair near the hearth and the other women. The men gathered at the table.

Perhaps she could work this to her advantage.

She spoke. “What a wonderful festival this year.” It was enough to start the gossip—who drank too much, who won which game or contest. The women speculated and laughed.

“Logan looked handsome.”

“Yes, Lady Beatrice kept trying to keep everyone away from him and her daughter.”

“The poor lad,” said one of the women. “Everywhere he turned Lady Beatrice was there with Holly.”

“No wonder Beatrice was pushing. Logan is constantly with Rebeka these days,” Katherine offered, casually, as if she was one of the women. “Logan and the girls go to her cottage every evening after the evening meal. The girls come back at a reasonable time but Logan stays until all hours.” She smiled to herself at her cleverness, letting the implication sink in.

“M’lady! Quickly the baby is almost here!” Lora called out from the other room.

The room erupted into action. Satisfied, Katherine strutted out of the room, glad to go into the birthing room. It would give the women time to work the gossip. It had turned out to be a very profitable morning.
Now all I need is to wait for the news to reach Arik.
Soon she would be rid of Rebeka. She would be there to console him. Yes, a very profitable morning indeed.

“Skylar, Aubrey, do you know where I can find Logan?” Arik came out of the Great Hall with Doward.

“Yes, we just left him with Rebeka.” The girls started up the stairs.

“Ah, then we will wait for him to return.”

“Well, you’ll certainly have a long wait.” Katherine hid her excitement, eager to pull this trap.

Everyone’s head turned to her as she glided down the stairs.

“Why?” asked Arik.

“Oh, come, m’lord, what do you think your brother and Rebeka are doing in the cottage?” she said with authority.

“What are you saying, Katherine?”

Katherine’s plan couldn’t have worked better. Talk of Rebeka and Logan was everywhere. The more times it was told, the bigger and bigger the story got. There were even rumors of other men.

“M’lord, it is the talk of the entire village. Surely you’re aware.”

The expression on his face showed he was not.

“Uncle Arik, you know that’s not true. It’s not true.”

“Be quiet, Skylar,” Katherine snapped, pushing the girl away.

“Uncle Arik.” Skylar grabbed his arm, shaking him to make him listen to her.

“She’s with him right now corrupting him,” Katherine said conspiratorially.
That should drive him to either toss her out or kill her.

Arik’s hot fevered stare turned cold and frigid. His reaction was more than she hoped.

Arik was schooled in keeping his countenance under control, but he didn’t even try. His body tensed, his muscles rippled ready for a fight. The turmoil he felt was unexplainable, anger, betrayal. But the worst was jealousy. Was he jealous his brother was able to accomplish what he wanted but wouldn’t pursue?

“Who spreads this tale, Katherine?”

“Lord Arik, there is so much said it’s not attributed to one person. All have witnessed it.”

Arik plowed through the group, pushing them aside to get to the cottage. He motioned for the guards to follow.

Adrenaline pumping, he burst through the cottage door, taking it off its hinges. He intended to catch them by surprise.

At the sound of the door breaking Rebeka and Logan looked up. Arik stood ready for a fight, his guards close behind him, but to his surprise, all he saw was Rebeka, Logan and Marcus sitting round the table reading a book.

“Arik, you didn’t have to take the door off its hinges.”

He still couldn’t get the image of Rebeka in Logan’s arms out of his head. It tormented him. Perhaps he arrived too soon. No, he took in the situation and knew immediately he’d been deceived. How easily Katherine worked him up. How livid with jealousy he was. How willing he was to take on his own brother if he found him with her.

“We’ll talk,” he demanded.

“I’ll leave.”

“No, Marcus, you and Doward will stay. Marcus, have the area around the cottage secured. I want no one in earshot. And have someone fix this door immediately.”

Marcus motioned to the guards and they ushered Skylar, Aubrey and Katherine back to the Manor.

Arik raked his hand through his hair.
Where to begin? How to begin?

“So you have heard the rumors,” Rebeka stated in matter-of-fact fashion.

He gave her a menacing stare.

“Arik.” Logan drew Arik’s attention away from her. “We’ve been studying Letty’s journals and maps. Rebeka thinks there’s a pattern. It may explain what’s happening to the land. It’s taken us a long time to translate the information. Letty hid her writing in code.”

The adrenaline drained, Arik relaxed a bit. He finally took a seat. “Let me see the journal.”

He gave the journal only a cursory look but knew it was genuine. He closed his eyes and could feel Letty’s touch all over it. And Rebeka’s touch too.