Queen of Lost Stars (Dragonblade Series/House of St. Hever) (24 page)

“What in the hell happened to her?” he demanded.

Mavia coughed and sputtered. “Some Welshmen came down here and tried to break into the cell. Madelayne bravely fought them off until one of them caught her through the bars and tried to choke her.” Mavia touched the bruised forehead. “He smacked her soundly, my lord.”

His expression was beyond grim. “Did they start the fire?”

“To kill us when we wouldn’t come out.”

Without another word, Kaspian collected Madelayne into one arm while crawling across the floor beneath the smoke. When they hit the top of the stairs leading from the gatehouse, he collected her into both arms and headed for the staircase that led to the caverns below. With the gatehouse so compromised, it was the only safe way to take the women. Somewhere across the wet bailey, Thomas joined them but refused to speak to or even assist his wife. Devastated, Mavia clung to Kaspian and the exodus proceeded down into the bowels of the mountain that supported the castle.

As the stream of Welsh poured in, raising the blue and white flag of Dafydd ap Gruffydd, a line of English poured out, single file, from the southern side of the mountain.

CHAPTER TWELVE

D
aybreak saw the
ragtag army from Lavister Crag Castle at the gates of Kirk Castle, about fifteen miles south of Lavister. They were an Edwardian supporter and the closest ally that wasn’t under attack. Several of the Lavister men were on horseback, inferior mounts stolen from the Welsh rebels.

Kaspian rode astride a great, gray, draft horse with Madelayne cradled carefully against him. She hadn’t woken yet, but the color was coming back to her cheeks and he was sure she was merely sleeping at this point. Kirk Castle loomed in the distance, manned by a huge combined force of Welsh and English, loyal to Edward at the moment. In this terrible weather, Kaspian felt it was their nearest option for safety.

Owain, or Lord de Kirk as he was known, was the Lord of Kirk Castle and also the heir to the princes of Powys, rivals of Llywelyn and Dafydd. Kirk was a massive fortress and Kaspian felt considerably better when his troops were welcomed and given shelter. Owain’s wife, Hawys, was kind enough to prepare rooms in the enormous keep for Kaspian and Madelayne, and the embattled couple of Thomas and Mavia. The woman went on the assumption that Madelayne was Kaspian’s wife, and Kaspian was not in any mood or condition to explain the situation. When the woman finally left them alone and bustled off to tend to other duties, Kaspian closed the chamber door and lay Madelayne on the bed in their cramped, borrowed room.

She was so very still as he examined the bruising around her neck where the rebel had attempted to strangle her. He felt so much disgust and remorse for what had happened. Carefully, he stripped off her wet clothing, admiring her completely nude body for the first time before covering her up with the heavy linens. He then removed his hauberk and unstrapped his broadsword, placing both on a chair along with the rest of his mail. The damp padded tunic came off and ended up somewhere near the fire.

After that, all he could smell was smoke and his own bad scent. But they were alive, no matter how bad the situation was, and that was all that mattered. He had to get word to Nicholas immediately as to the situation, else the man would be returning home to a fortress full of Welsh, but he had a feeling that Thomas had already taken care of that. Last he saw of the man, he was ignoring his wife completely and disbanding the army.

Kaspian sat on the edge of the bed, holding Madelayne’s hand and staring at her sleeping face. He kissed her hand a couple of times, interrupted by a knock on the door. An older couple respectfully entered, carrying hot water and food. When they left, Kaspian took a moment to wash himself with borrowed soap and a rag, and took a few bites of the meal, wanting to save the majority for Madelayne when she awoke. Exhausted himself, he could no longer stay on his feet and stripped off the rest of his clothing, climbing into bed beside her and carefully taking her in his arms.

Her breasts brushed against his chest and he could feel the moisture from her nipples. He knew, as she had so often put it, that she was full to bursting and the thought of suckling her brought instant peace to him, and instant arousal.

Reckoning that he could not let her become so completely uncomfortable, he slid down in the bed and took a nipple in his mouth, drawing from her the rich, sweet fluid that seemed to content him like nothing else he had ever known. She was warm and delicious and naked against him and, feeling like a cad, he allowed himself the stolen pleasure of touching every inch of her body. His exploring fingers parted the delicate curls between her legs and to realize she was drenched with moisture hardened him like a rock.

“You would take advantage of me, then?” she whispered.

His head came up from her breasts and he felt rather like that cat caught with the mouse. “Madelayne,” he murmured. “You are awake.”

Her eyes opened and she smiled at him. “Of course,” she said. “How could I stay asleep during all of your attention?”

He looked rather sheepish, propping himself up on one elbow so he was looming over her. “I could not help myself,” he said. “I hope you will forgive me.”

She reached up, touching his stubbled cheek. “There is nothing to forgive. We are betrothed and I am your property. It is your right to inspect me.”

“You make it sound as if I’m purchasing a mare,” he said, a tinge of irony in his tone. His gaze fell on the lump on her forehead and he touched it gently. “Speaking of my property, how do you feel?”

Her fingers flitted over the lump. “I’ve a headache,” she said. “Otherwise, I do not feel overly terrible. But what’s all that smell of smoke? And where are we?”

“We’re at Kirk Castle,” he said. “Lavister was overrun and we were forced to abandon it. As for the smell of smoke, that occurred when the rebels who had tried to kill you decided to finish the job by lighting the vault afire. Thank God I got you out in time.”

She was quiet a moment, letting the ominous news sink in. “Will Edward punish you now that Lavister is lost?”

Kaspian shook his head. “Of course not,” he said. “We were simply outnumbered and there is no shame in a retreat under those circumstances. But I’ve got to get word to Nicholas that Lavister is now under Dafydd’s control and discuss the alternatives therein.”

“He doesn’t know?”

“Officially, he does not, but I suspect word has already been sent to him by Thomas or Lord de Kirk.”

“What do we do now?”

Kaspian lifted his big shoulders. “Amass an army to take the fortress back,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I am going to head south to Shrewsbury Castle because there is a big contingent of Edward’s troop there. I must converse with the garrison commander. I’ll need his help.”

“Can I go with you?”

He shook his head. “I would feel better if you would stay here. You’ll be safe.”

She didn’t want to stay in this strange place. She had heard of Kirk, but wasn’t exactly sure where it was. Everything was alien and foreign to her except for Kaspian and now he wanted to leave her. Her head began to throb and she rolled onto her side, away from him, lest he see her grim expression.

He had seen it nonetheless. “Do not turn away from me,” he commanded softly. “What is the matter?”

She curled onto her side. “I’m just… tired,” she said. It wasn’t like her to complain, especially when he had greater things on his mind. “Do not worry about me.”

Kaspian knew exactly what the problem was. Her soft, creamy back was to him and he reached out, stroking a finger along her spine. “I shan’t be long,” he said. “But this I must do. My fortress is in the hands of a madman.”

“I know.” She trembled as his fingers moved across her back. “But I… I shall miss you.”

“And I shall miss you.”

She could hear his breathing growing heavy behind her as his hand moved across her shoulders and down one arm. When he reached her elbow, it was inevitable that his hand found its way to her breast. Madelayne shuddered as he cupped her breast, giving it a gentle squeeze and spraying a stream of milk onto the linens. They laughed together, softly, as she rolled onto her back, rivets of milk running down her torso.

Kaspian didn’t say a word as he swooped upon her to lap up the milk, covering her with his big body, his hands on both breasts, squeezing the nourishing liquid out until it ran all over her in erotic streams for him to drink up. He licked and suckled, listening to her moan with pleasure, feeling his swollen member throb with the desperate desire to make love to her.

Madelayne instinctively spread her legs, allowing him to lay between them, feeling the weight and strength of his body with the greatest of joy. It was inherent for them to want to join their bodies in a meld of desire, forgetting the fact that Madelayne had given birth a mere few weeks before and should have given more time to the healing process. But she wanted to feel Kaspian inside her in the worst way, and he had never known a stronger urge to bury himself deep within a woman’s flesh. The more he licked and suckled, the more fevered their desire became.

Their passion was at a frenzy. Kaspian lifted himself up, sliding his great member into her with an ease that suggested she was made to accommodate him and him alone. He seated himself to the hilt with comfort and grace, enough to bring tears to his eyes. Madelayne emitted a soft cry, clinging to him as he drove into her, wrapping her legs around him as if to never let him go. His sheer size was smothering her in a most wonderful way, but somewhere in their passion he rolled onto his side, her left leg pulled up over his hip as he made love to her with ardent fervor. He put his mouth over hers, his tongue licking her sweet depths, continuing to kiss her even as he released his seed deep into her body.

Madelayne felt him tremble and she, too, joined him in his pleasure-filled tremors, finally experiencing a climax with him that she didn’t have to hide. When it was over, they hardly knew what had overcome them, only that the experience had been beyond powerful.

Kaspian kissed her eyes, her nose, her jaw line, his hands in her hair. It was an exquisitely tender moment. Madelayne sighed raggedly, relishing every touch.

“I should apologize, but I cannot,” he confessed. “I’ve wanted to take you for the longest time. It was sweeter than I could have imagined. Did I injure you?”

She pressed against him, his arms around her tightly. The warmth of his body made her feel safe, cherished, whole. “Of course not. It was more than wonderful.”

“My feelings precisely.”

“Promise me something, Kaspian.”

“Anything.”

“Promise that you will never leave me.”

“I promise.”

“I would die if you did.”

“Then you will die a very old woman. I will never leave your side.”

She believed him without question. Kaspian St. Hèver never said anything he did not mean and his word was as good as gold. They continued to lay together in warm, wonderful silence as the day progressed. Kaspian eventually fell asleep and it was tremendously comforting to Madelayne to listen to his deep, steady breathing. She wished they could stay just as they were forever. It was the happiest she had ever been in her life, the culmination of everything she could have ever hoped for.

But forever came too soon. A knock on the door rattled the chamber just before sundown and Kaspian was instantly awake. While Madelayne struggled to awaken from a long nap, he was sliding his heavy woolen hose on and answering the door.

Thomas was standing at the door, looking horribly gray. “Kaspian,” he said hoarsely. “I… I need your help.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Mavia….”

Hearing the name, Madelayne was immediately alert. Wrapping herself in the coverlet, she stumbled to the door. “What did you do to her?” she said accusingly.

Thomas looked stricken. “What did
I
do to her?”

Madelayne was furious at him, though she wasn’t sure why. Hadn’t Mavia said that Thomas refused to speak to her, that he had been insanely jealous over Nicholas? Now something was apparently wrong and Madelayne was certain that Thomas was to blame.

“She said that you hadn’t spoken to her because of a foolish jealousy,” she snapped. “Where is she? What did you say to upset her so?”

Thomas’ pale cheeks darkened. “So she lied to you, too. You have no idea what has happened!”

“You mistrust your own wife? How horrible of you!”

Kaspian would not allow them to bicker. He put his hands on Madelayne’s shoulders and turned her around. “Madelayne, get dressed please.” When she did as she was told, hissing like an angry cat all the way, he turned back to Thomas. “What about Mavia? Where is she?”

Thomas leaned against the wall as if it were the only thing to sustain him. “In the ward. She jumped to her death not a half hour ago.”

Behind him, Kaspian heard Madelayne scream.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN