Rowena Through the Wall: Expanded Edition (12 page)

He put his mouth to the place where my neck meets my shoulder. And then―dear God―he bit down hard. I cried out in shock. His hands ripped my dress from the neckline, yanking it down my arms, frantic to get it off my hips.

My breath came in gasps. "Wait, I―"

We were on the bare ground. His mouth found my breast, taking as much of
it as he could. His right hand cupped the other one, kneading it, rolling the nipple between his thumb and finger. Then his lips latched onto that breast and I roiled beneath him, my legs already apart.

His mouth was on mine again, demanding more, and I felt him moving against me. Heat surged over me, through me. He raised his face, looked into my eyes and then arched over me. He took me swiftly, his control slipping, changing to frenzy.

This was no dream, but something more sinister, wild and frightening. I fell into a world of ghostly images, envisioning the pounding of waves and the roaring of men in battle. A broadsword appeared in my hand.

Then I heard the growling, savage need of the man inside me.

I cried out.

He yelled a triumphant, haunting roar. Then the ground melted away from me. The only thing keeping me from sinking down into the bowels of the earth were his arms around me.

I slept.

When I awoke, Sargon stood over me, fully dressed, his eyes smoldering. "I'll have to kill Ivan now."

We argued all the way back to the castle.

"It's not your choice," he said. "You can't ignore the customs of our land. They have governed us for a thousand years."

"You and I were together only one time. Can't you pay him off?"

He gave a derisive laugh. "One time? You think that?"

Sargon reined in and I did the same. Leaning over, he pulled me from Lightning's back and gathered me close. His mouth sought mine and I was plunged into the madness once more. I clung to him as a strange and unwanted lust built up inside.

When he released me, I slid to the ground, my legs shaking as I remounted Lightning.

Sargon's eyes narrowed. "Not one time, I think. Not one lifetime either."

We rode at a calm walk.

"I know him," Sargon said. "Huel is a man of honor, if somewhat simple. I've been with his wife and will do so again. Honor demands this to be settled."

"Settled," I repeated in a faint voice.

A pause.

"We've been destined for this from that first night at Huel. You know it. I may have settled for one night then, but not now. There is no going back. I don't
want
to go back."

Was there nothing I could say to stop this madness?

"You could be killed."

His black eyes flashed. "Unlikely."

The ride was nearly over. I had little idea of what to expect and I dreaded the welcome we would receive.

The horses slowed at the gate.

There were men everywhere in the courtyard. Grandfather and Richard stood beside the stable. Ivan was across the court with Jon. Thane waited on the castle steps, his arms crossed.

As we advanced, voices swelled in outrage.

Then all was silent.

There was no disguising where we had been and what we had done. My gown was marked with streaks of dirt and the bodice was ripped. I held it together with one hand.

If I could have crawled into a hole in the earth, I would have.

Sargon helped me from my horse.

I ran to Grandfather. He embraced me and I let out a sob.

Could I be any more ashamed?

Sargon turned to Ivan. "Huel, I challenge you. Now."

Chapter 14

This is what I have learned about fights with broadswords. It is
not
like the movies. People don't leap around like Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp in pirate gear. Broadswords are heavy, unwieldy things that can kill on contact. Battles are usually very short and always lethal.

Ivan rushed forward, sword in hand, as though he were waiting for this, almost relishing the opportunity. He was the bigger man, but Sargon held a sword with practiced ease.

The king smiled his demented wolf smile. "To the death."

All these Land's End men were mad.

I clung to Grandfather and buried my face in his tunic. There was no cheering with this fight, only deadly silence and the sound of clashing metal.

God, how I hated that sound.

As the swords clanged once, then twice, a man cried out.

Grandfather stiffened and I spun around.

Ivan was on his feet, his sword on the ground. This should have been the end of him, but Sargon did the most extraordinary thing. He threw away his sword.

The crowd gasped.

"No!" I cried out.

Sargon drew his dagger and waited for Ivan to reach for his. It was arrogant, crazy and somewhat gallant. He was giving Ivan a second chance.

Dismay was on every face around me and disbelief on Ivan's.

In a blink, he lunged forward.

There was a blur of action that I couldn't see for the dust.

Sargon swung to the right. His left arm hooked Ivan around the neck and the dagger found its spot. A trail of blood ran down Ivan's chest.

"Rowena, your call," Sargon yelled.

"Spare him. For me." And more quietly, "
For
me…"

The emphasis was different. I knew he would understand.

To Ivan, he hissed, "It will be as if you are dead to us. Leave immediately."

He removed the dagger and stepped back, stumbling slightly.

Ivan fell to the ground.

There was no air left in this stifling world. I collapsed to my knees. Grandfather lifted me with Richard's help. I sagged against Richard's chest and closed my eyes.

"Granddaughter, this is not your fault. It was in the fates. I do not blame you." Grandfather sounded defeated and very old.

We all knew what Sargon's words meant for my husband―banishment. Ivan would keep his life, but lose his title and land.
And
wife.

Men were moving in the square again. A shadow crossed in front of me. Sargon. He stood before me, breathing hard.

"Come," he s
aid, reaching for my hand.

I had no choice.

I let him drag me from Richard's arms. When we reached the top of the steps, Sargon paused. He reminded me of a victorious Roman Centurion, one who had proved himself today before all, not once but twice.

He nodded to the crowd. "Thane, see to it that Ivan obeys me. Rhys, to the hall in one hour. Logan, come."

He nudged me inside the castle. I followed him to an unfamiliar room at the back of the castle. Sargon's private chamber. It was on the main floor, which was unusual, and looked very much like the rooms at Huel. There were tapestry walls, a large wooden bed and dense draperies.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside the room.

"Stay at the door," he ordered Logan.

When the door closed, Sargon collapsed on the bed.

"You're hurt," I said.

"A surface wound, I think."

I raised his tunic. It was black, of course, so the blood didn't show. Nor the gaping wound. Ivan must have caught him with the dagger in that first lunge. The wound was in the side of his chest, missing the rib and not too deep. Any deeper and it would have pierced a lung.

I ran to the door and flung it open. "Logan! I need boiling water and clean cloths. Hurry! Don't tell a soul."

Startled, Logan gave a quick nod and went to do my bidding.

It counted for something, being the consort of the king.

I returned to the bed.

"You're making a fuss for nothing, Rowena."

I felt his head. It was hot and sweaty.

"All men are fools," I said, tugging the tunic over his head.

Scars ran up and down his body. I couldn't count them all.

"How could you do that?" I snapped. "How could you walk from the battle, stride up those steps and wave to the crowd, with a bleeding wound in your chest?"

"Never show weakness."

He gritted his teeth as I probed around the gash. I wanted to kill him. And save him.

"I wish I had my vet bag here," I said.

"Your what?"

"My healer's kit," I explained. "I have medicines that would take away your pain and clean the wound so it won't become infected."

"You can do this in your world?"

"I could do it here, if I had my bag."

Dammit! Getting the bag was next to impossible. Sargon would probably place guards on me now. He wouldn't permit me to go for as much as a pleasure ride alone. And he certainly wouldn't let me go home. I'd never be allowed to venture back through the wall.

Logan rushed into the room. He set a pot of water on a table.

"Thank you," I said, gesturing for him to stay. "I could use your help."

"Of course."

The poor boy was frightened to death, but held the water vessel as I dipped the cloths and cleaned the wound.

Sargon watched me work. "Do you love him?"

"Ivan?" I shrugged.

We'd had one good night together and one really bad day.

"No," I said.

"And Norland?"

I hesitated. "I don't know."

Again I was honest. He seemed to appreciate that, as much as he didn't like it.

"You're free now," my patient said with satisfaction. "He'll not be back."

I glared at him. "Ivan may not come back, but I am hardly free."

It was dusk when I awoke alone in Sargon's room. I remembered bandaging him as best I could and then stretching out beside him on the bed.

Someone knocked on the door.

I sat up. "Come in."

The door creaked and I could see a chair in the hallway. Logan stepped inside, a half dozen dresses flung over his arm. "Sargon said you might want a change of attire." He gave me a shy smile. "I've brought a few dresses from my late aunt's wardrobe. I hope they fit. There's more if these don't suit." He laid them on the bed.

Logan had picked the prettiest of gowns, not necessarily the most elegant, and I certainly needed a change of clothes. My old white muslin was ready for the fire.

"Can you leave the room for a minute, please?"

Logan nodded and closed the door behind him.

I plucked the mint gown from the pile. It might be a little loose in parts, but the high waist would snug in nicely with lacing. It had a low square neck with pretty rows of white lace around the neck and cuffs.

I slid the dress over my head and smoothed it over my hips. Logan's aunt and I were of a similar size, though the dress was short by several inches. So what if my ankles showed? I could put lace on the bottom later.

Logan returned.

He'd been given the task of guard for the day. I felt sorry for him, being left out of the men's meeting to babysit a woman. If he minded, he certainly didn't show it to me. He was thoughtful and charming, as well as dead cute with those freckles. A gentle giant.

"Logan, will you take me to my Grandfather?"

It seemed this was a reasonable request for a lady to make because Logan nodded and escorted me up the grand oak stairs to the second floor. When we crossed a long corridor and passed the room that Ivan and I had shared, I shivered.

Grandfather was lying on his bed. Next to him, Richard sat in a chair. They both clambered to their feet when I paused in the doorway.

"May I come in?" I asked.

"Of course, child," Grandfather said.

Logan waited outside the room.

Grandfather hugged me and kissed my hair. "My poor child, you must think that all men are beasts. I would not have you harmed for the world."

"Please don't worry," I said into his chest. "I'm pretty tough, you know. But I'm so very sorry―"

"I know, child. We all are."

When Grandfather relaxed, I left his arms and went to Richard. "I'm so glad you're here, cousin."

I gave him a hug and he moved
awkwardly into my arms. I wondered if this was the first time he had ever embraced a woman.

"Where will Ivan go?" I asked when he released me.

Grandfather frowned and quickly closed the door.

I'd forgotten about Logan, who would serve not only as guard, but also as Sargon's spy.

"South, to find Cedric," Richard said. "That's what I would do."

Cedric.
The name always gave me a chill.

"He doesn't blame you," Grandfather said. "He knows what sacrifice you made to save his life. We all were there. He loathes himself for failing you and leaving you to that wolf."