Soul Magic (25 page)

She yawned.  “Talk?  I’ve not yet eaten.  Would you like to share a meal first?”

He’d like to share more than a meal.  Geoffrey cleared his throat, willing the hot rush of blood to cool. 

“Yes,” he managed.  “I’ve not had my evening meal either.”

Movements graceful, she rose and went to fetch a small, wooden trencher.  Chunks of hard bread and cheese had already been placed in it.  Barefoot, despite the chill of the ground, she padded over and knelt next to him.  Her scent, musk and earth, made his mouth go dry.

“I will feed you, Geoffrey Tadhg.”

She spoke his name like a caress, lingering over his surname.  About to growl low in his throat, he spoke instead.  “I can feed myself.” 

Her face fell at his surly response, but she nodded.  She reached for a piece of bread at the same time as he grabbed cheese.  Their hands collided.  Instead of cheese, somehow he managed to take her thumb and, once touching her, found he couldn’t let go.

Wide-eyed, she gazed at him.  Knowing he could drown in her eyes, he focused on her mouth.  Another mistake.  Her parted lips were soft and swollen, ready for his kisses and the taste of his tongue.

“No.”  He wrenched himself away and stood with his back to her, panting. 

“Geoffrey?” 

“I don’t know who I am.”  The words burst from him and he felt ashamed.  She would not care to hear of his torment. 

“But Wynne has given you your name.” 

Without him hearing her move, she’d come to stand behind him.  She placed her small hand on his shoulder and lightly squeezed. 

“`Tis more than that.”  Miserable, yet once he’d started he found he couldn’t stop.  “I wanted to live in a monastery, become a monk, and dedicate my life to God.”

“Geoffrey--”

He braced himself to hear her derision.  Instead he heard only sorrow.

“If this is what you wish, then no one will stop you from doing so.”  She dropped her hand and stepped back, taking her scent and her warm softness away from him.

Suddenly he couldn’t bear it.

“Don’t you understand?”  He spun, surprising her, pulling her close so she could feel the thundering of his heart in his chest.  “All my life I’ve lived for one thing – to become a monk.”

She watched him closely.  “And now?”

He should have felt sorrow, or regret, or maybe pain.  Instead, he felt dawning wonder, happiness, and elation.  “Now, I cannot leave you.”

Joy shone from her eyes as she lifted her face to him.  “I do not want you to leave me.”  Tone fierce, she accepted his kiss with passion.  “Ever.”

                                          *    *     *     *

Three more days passed before Darrick was well enough to sit astride a horse.  Even then, weakness still claimed him.  He hated the dizziness that caused nausea to rise in his throat. 

Through it all, Alanna rarely left his side, though a solemn-faced Geoffrey assisted when she asked.

Mostly though, his world consisted of only Alanna.

As he’d grown stronger, he’d gained a new appreciation for what the torment of hell must be like.  Constantly, throughout his illness, she’d touched him – her quiet confidence stunning from one who’d claimed to be unable to accept a man’s caress.  Her touch had so aroused him that he feared he might embarrass himself in his breechcloth. 

Often he’d feigned sleep, knowing she would grow bolder when she thought him unconscious, enjoying the feel of her small hands upon him far more than he should.

Then finally she’d come to him, taken him inside of her, and utterly changed his world. 

He wanted her again.  And again, and again, and again.

Apparently Alanna did not feel the same.  After that one night of blissful lovemaking, she’d resumed her role as nursemaid and kept her distance.  Mayhap she thought him too ill.  As if such a thing were possible.

That one part of his body had not been felled by his illness.  Each time she leaned over him, murmuring vague reassurances, he went instantly hard and swollen.  She had to notice – on more than one occasion he’d watched her through his lashes, seeing how her gaze strayed and lingered on his conspicuous bulge.  But never did she let her fingers wander there, though she came agonizingly close.

He would have thought making love to her would have exhausted and stated him.  Instead, he only wanted her more.  Once he nearly moaned out loud when she’d let her hand hover over him as though she meant to stroke his engorged flesh.  But she did not, and he began to wonder if he’d merely dreamt their night of passion.

Luckily – or not – by the dawn of the seventh day she judged him well enough to dress himself.  Geoffrey arrived to assist him, and Alanna left to speak with Sarina.

“She truly cares for you.”  Geoffrey held out Darrick’s tunic, helping him pull the garment over his head.  “Never have I seen a woman more devoted.  She allowed no one near you – save when she needed me to roll you over so she could clean you.”

With a low growl, Darrick stood, stepping into his braes with wobbly legs.  “We’ve lost too much time.”

Geoffrey shrugged.  “It could not be helped.”

“Why did you not take some men and ride on?  We would have caught up to you later.”

“And do what?”  Geoffrey’s rueful bluntness brought a smile to Darrick’s face.  “Alanna refused to leave your side. What chance would the rest of us have had against such magical foes?”

“She told me you brought a storm into the ocean.”  He watched the other man closely, knowing Geoffrey’s dislike of anything magical.

“Aye.”  Wonder touched Geoffrey’s face.  “I felt power rise up through me and rush into the sky.”

“I don’t understand how you were able to do so.  Or why the Fae would ask you.”

Geoffrey went still.  “The wise woman of Rune told me the name of my father.”

“Wynne?  How did she know?”

“Magic?  Who can tell how the Fae come by their knowledge.”

“I am glad for you.”  Darrick smiled at his friend.  “I know how long you have wanted to know your sire’s name.” 

Geoffrey swallowed and grimaced.  “Aye.”

Concern replacing his happiness, Darrick studied Geoffrey.  “You do not look overly pleased.  I pray you did not learn your sire is a man you despise.  What is his name?” 

Geoffrey would not meet his eyes.  “I have something to tell you.”

Puzzled, Darrick waited.  When Geoffrey did not immediately speak, he sighed.  “`Tis a good thing that Wynne was able to tell you, was it not?  Even if your sire was not an honorable man, `tis something you’ve long wanted to know.”

“My sire was most honorable.  And most glad am I that Fae magic brought the truth of this name to me.”

Darrick smiled.  “You sound as though you have changed your thinking about magic and the Fae.”

Lifting his head, Geoffrey gave a rueful smile in return.  His gaze seemed calm and steady, meeting Darrick’s with affection.  “I do not know what I think, these days.  Long have I considered myself a man of the spirit.  But of late it seems I have become a man of the flesh as well.”

Darrick gave his friend a long look.  Geoffrey did appear different.  More relaxed, tension no longer radiated from every pore.  His constant air of disapproval had vanished as well, though the shadows in his eyes warred with the smile on his face.

“Sarina?”

“Who else?  She has brought me pleasures I did not know existed.”  Tugging at his ear, Geoffrey grimaced.

“I fail to see the problem.  `Tis about time you discovered the diversion a good woman’s touch can bring.”

Though he nodded, Geoffrey still wore a worried frown. 

Darrick couldn’t help but laugh.  “Now, the name of your father?  Do I know him?  Surely it can’t be as bad as you make it appear.”

“`Tis not bad, not bad at all.”  But still Geoffrey did not speak the name.

“Out with it, man.”

Geoffrey crossed his arms.  “You did know him, and well.  My sire was Oren Tadhg.”

At first Darrick could scarce credit the words.  He heard them, but their meaning did not resonate until he saw the look of anguished waiting on his friend’s face.

“What did you say?”

Slowly, Geoffrey repeated the name.  “Oren Tadhg.”

His own father.  His sire had also been Geoffrey’s?  That meant that -  “We are brothers?”

Geoffrey nodded, his expression a mixture of hope and dread.  “Half-brothers.  Knowing his name does not change the fact that I am bastard-born.”

“Brothers.” 

“Aye.”

Moving unsteadily, Darrick closed the distance between them.  “You have long been like a brother to me.  Glad am I to know we are brothers by blood as well.”  He clapped the other man on the back.  “Now neither of us is quite so alone in the world.”

A slow smile transformed Geoffrey’s craggy features.  “True. Though you have Alanna now, too.  Will you wed her?”

“If she’ll have me.  And you and Sarina?”

“I know not.  I do not want to leave her.”

“Then wed her.  I fail to see the problem.”

This time when Geoffrey met his gaze, Darrick saw the pain in his expression.  “I have long planned for the monastery.”

Watching him closely, Darrick nodded.  “This choice is only one you can make.”

“True.  I am torn.  The two paths are so different.” 

The words he did not say hovered between them.  One way lay devotion to God, the spirit.  The other – magic, and Fae, and… love.  Yet surely such a thing was also a gift of God. 

Geoffrey tugged at his ear.  “What if she carries my child?”

Darrick felt a pang at the words.  Once, Alanna had carried a child that most likely been his, and because she’d believed her pregnancy to be the result of another man’s foul act, he’d never known.

“If she does, then count your blessings.”

“Blessings?  I am bastard born and well know what such a life is like.  I would wish that on no child.”

“Then marry her.”

“And risk eternal damnation?”

With a tired sigh, Darrick strapped on his boots.  “You are not back to that witchcraft nonsense again?”

“No.  I now accept that, improbable as it may seen, Sarina is a Faerie.  She can do things,” he swallowed, his face coloring, “that are beyond magical.  But a child of such a union…  What type of life does he face?”

“Such as Alanna’s son Caradoc?”  He hadn’t meant his tone to be so sharp.  “Know you there is more than a possibility that the boy might be mine.”

“Aye. But what becomes of such children?”  Geoffrey’s low tone showed the seriousness of the question.  “Can they live among humans or must they reside in Rune?”

Darrick managed a small chuckle, though to do so hurt his side.  “As always, you worry overmuch.  They can live wherever they please.  If Sarina bears your child, then wed her and bring her to Thorncliff.  Surely you know any child of yours will be welcome, my brother.”

Brother
.  He felt a rush of pleasure as he spoke the word.  Pleasure, and sorrow too, for Varden would never know he had a half-brother. 

“My thanks.”  Geoffrey dipped his head. 

“No thanks are necessary.  Whatever you decide, you will always be welcome in my home.”  That said, Darrick straightened his shoulders and inhaled.  Cautiously, he took one step, then another.  Growing more confident with each passing moment, he made it to the tent flap, which he pulled aside.  Stepping outside, he took a deep breath, then gave the orders for them to break camp.

The day was blustery and a cold wind blew from the north.  The men leapt to do his bidding, taking down the tents with record speed. 

“So soon?”  Geoffrey spoke at his shoulder.  “Are you certain you are well enough?”

“It matters not how I am.”  Darrick told him.  “One small boy and a frightened lady wait for us.  We journey west within the hour.  It won’t be long before we reach the edge of the sea.  `Tis my hope the storm still rages and we find Gorsedd there waiting.”

                                          *    *    *    *

Watching Darrick, Alanna noted the closer they drew to the ocean, the more Darrick became still and silent.

Though she alone was not the only one to see this.  Geoffrey also observed and prepared.  Riding at his lord’s side, he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword.  His entire demeanor appeared alert and ready.

Never had Alanna been so glad to know Darrick had such a staunch ally as his longtime companion and now brother, Geoffrey.  At times he reminded her so much of Darrick.  Though only a half-brother, Geoffrey actually resembled Darrick more closely than Darrick’s full brother Varden. 

Feeling Alanna’s scrutiny, Geoffrey turned his head and gave her a smile.  She dipped her head in return.  Though they had long had their differences, she had noticed a marked softening in his attitude towards her since he’d begun spending time with Sarina.  Her cousin’s demeanor had changed as well.  Always impetuous and outspoken, of late Sarina had become more contemplative, her nature becoming quieter.   Whether this was due to Geoffrey’s steadying influence, Alanna could not say, but she was glad to note the way Sarina seemed to glow with happiness.  Though Sarina may not have realized it yet, she was in love with Geoffrey. Alanna believed he returned the sentiment.