The Dragon and the Dreamwalker (Elemental Series) (15 page)

She saw Drake approaching, leaving Gollimer with his squire and wearing a robe that looked a lot like Rowley’s. He clenched it tightly around himself as he headed for the mews.

“Alright,” she said in desperation. “I’ll try to convince him to train you as a knight. In the meantime, just please don’t say anything about…about…”

“About probing you with my own sword?”

“You bastard! I can’t wait to see your body swinging from the end of a rope.”

He just smiled and made his way out of the mews, bowing his head to Drake in what she knew was a fake act of loyalty and admiration.”

“Good day, my lord. I’ll be at your service should you need me. My name is Calais.”

She watched Drake give him an odd sort of smile as if he didn’t know what to make of the man. She didn’t want him to know she watched, and hurried over to her bird instead. He entered, and when his eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, he looked at her in surprise.

“Brynn. What are you doing in here?”

“I came to see Feathers.” She put on the falconer’s glove and scooped up her falcon.

“I see.” He made his way past her and knelt in the hay, searching for something.

“For what do you search, my lord?” she asked him.

“I seem to have lost my dagger and am hoping it’s here.”

“Sleeping in the mews last night?”

He stopped his search and answered without looking at her.

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t need to.” She put her falcon back on the post, removed the glove, and walked up behind him. Laying her hand on his shoulder, she couldn’t help but feel him stiffen beneath her touch. Still, he didn’t turn to look at her.

“The bedchamber is big enough for two,” she told him. “I wouldn’t want the lord of the castle to be caught sleeping in the hay alone.”

“Who said I was alone?” He turned to face her and she saw the way his eyes devoured her. He couldn’t have remembered, could he? Suddenly she felt embarrassed by her brash words. As if he knew they’d made love last night and he knew just how much she wanted him.

“What - what do you mean?” She drew back.

“I am the lord of Thorndale Castle now, and even if I won’t take you by force, there are many other wenches who wouldn’t deny warming my bed.”

“So you are saying you bedded a woman in the hay last night?”

He paused a moment before answering. “Would it disturb you if I did? Would it anger you, wife?”

She was aghast. For a moment she thought he had sought out a buxom wench, but then she remembered seeing him so frustrated. He still looked that way. He was either trying to cause envy, or he was a perpetual liar trying to save his dignity.

Brynn watched him searching in the hay fruitlessly for his dagger. She contemplated telling him she’d been with him on the
dreamwalking
plane, but then decided to remain silent. After refusing him in the physical, she couldn’t very well tell him she’d come to him in etheric form.

She reached up and unlodged the dagger from the wall where she’d seen him throw it last night. She handed it hilt-first to him. “Your dagger, my lord.”

“Aye,” he said, retrieving it and standing to tower over her. He opened his mouth to speak, as if he were going to ask her how she knew where to look for it, but changed his mind. He went to fasten it at his side and her eyes followed. She couldn’t believe what she saw. He couldn’t fasten it at his side, as he wasn’t wearing any clothes beneath the robe. There he stood in all his glory, just as manly and enticing as she’d found him last night. And just as straight as well.

He hurriedly pulled his cloak around himself and turned away. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“It seems to me you’ve forgotten more than just your dagger, my lord. If you truly did bed a wench in the hay last night, she doesn’t seem to have pleased you.”

He reached out and pulled her against him. Her body slammed against his bare flesh. His eyes were angry, his chest hard. He took her fingers and clasped them around his aroused form. The smile died on her lips when she realized what she held. She couldn’t let go because of his grip around her own hand.

“You laugh, wife, but look what you’re doing to me. I am not a patient man and will not wait much longer. Do not think I haven’t heard the gossip amongst not only my men but the commoners this morning. You know as well as I their information is inaccurate as to why I left the bedchamber. I won’t be made a fool of by my own wife. No Pendragon has ever been demeaned by a woman. I will be back in the bedchamber this evening and I want you willing to receive me. I won’t be refused again!”

He pushed her away, gathered his cloak around him and left the mews in a hurry.

She stood there, trembling, looking at her hand. She couldn’t believe what he’d just done. His vibrations ran through her and she couldn’t stop her body from shaking. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her, and it scared her. Making love with him while out of her body was one thing. Making love with
The Dragon
on a physical level was something she was not ready for at all.

Drake lowered his visor and steadied his lance, trying to prepare his mind for the practice joust. Gollimer pranced nervously beneath him, and Asad waited on his own horse across the field. The heralder sounded the horn, and Drake dug his heels into Gollimer’s sides.

Asad came charging toward him, lance at the ready. Drake lunged forward in the saddle, forcing all his pent up emotions for Brynn into his charge. Lances clashed and wood splintered on contact. He managed to break Asad’s lance, but not unseat him. He lined up for another pass while Asad’s broken lance was replaced by an eager page.

His squire was much too skilled for his position and Drake knew he had to start training another squire soon. Asad was overdue for becoming a knight. As much as Drake counted on his service, he could hold back the bronze-skinned man no longer.

“Are you ready?” called the heralder.

Drake nodded. On his command, he once again charged Gollimer forward, but this time his mind wasn’t on the joust. Through the narrow slit in the visor he spied Brynn dressed in one of his tunics. Bare legs showing, she made her way towards the lists with the man called Calais right behind her.

“I would beat you this time,” shouted Asad just before he plundered Drake’s chest plate with his lance. Drake tried to defend, but it was too late. He was thrust out of the saddle and thrown to the ground. He tore off his helm and threw it across the practice yard in frustration.

“My lord?” asked Asad, watching him carefully.

“You are ready for knighthood,” stated Drake getting to his feet. “I can no longer practice when I’m so distracted.” He brushed the dust from his hands.

“Distracted?” Asad looked around, spying Brynn making her way toward them. “Ah, distracted. I would leave you to your distractions, my lord.”

“No. Stay here. I want you to find a man to start training as my squire.”

Brynn waved and ducked under the lists, making her way out to the practice yard. Calais followed with a smile on his face. Drake couldn’t help but notice the rest of his knights in the practice yard looking in their direction.

Drake felt his anger rising already. Why was his wife with another man, and dressed in naught but a tunic? This didn’t fare well with him at all.

“Damn that woman! What does she think she’s doing?”

“Remember, she is your wife,” warned Asad.

“How could I forget?”

He made his way toward her in large, angry strides. The previously sunny sky turned cloudy above him. No wife of his would parade around a practice field full of men dressed like that. She would have to be reprimanded for her actions. She had to learn her place as lady of the castle.

“What do you think you’re doing dressed like that?” he growled.

She looked down to the overly large tunic. Straightening the rope belt around her waist, she answered.

“I didn’t have any clothing proper for practicing. I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed this old thing.”

That old thing, as she referred to it, was one of his best tunics. He saved it for special occasions, but then again there weren’t many of those lately so it probably didn’t matter.

“Practicing what?” he asked, afraid he already knew the answer.

“Why sword play and jousting of course. I think it is good for a woman to be able to defend herself. Especially with the dragon out and about.”

“If you’re referring to Dracus, I’ll protect you from him. If you’re referring to the dragon’s son, then I don’t believe I can help you.”

Their eyes interlocked and he thought he saw a new spark of life in her gaze. Something that hadn’t been there before. Something had changed since yesterday. He could feel it in her presence, in her smile. She seemed happy  -  satisfied in a way, but he didn’t know why. All he knew was that after those dreams last night he was feeling more restless than ever.

“I’ve offered to help her train.” The man called Calais pushed forward proudly, sword in his hand.

“Brynn, what is the meaning of this?”

“Calais wants to be one of your knights,” she said. “He’s . . . very good. I thought he could help me.”

“I don’t need any more knights, and especially not of your choosing.” He looked over to Calais and continued talking.  “I do not want you so near my wife again.”

Drake grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the seedy little man, wondering why Brynn had taken such a liking to him. He had tried his best to catch her eye, without avail, yet this man seemed to hold some sort of power over her. He didn’t understand it, or like it in the least.

Brynn looked back as they walked across the practice yard. “I really think you should consider training him as one of your men.”

“He is neither fit to be trained as a knight, nor of noble blood. I fail to see why you would even suggest it.”

“I . . . just give him a chance, Drake. Please?”

She looked at him with eyes that could have melted him down into a puddle at her feet. She had never asked him for anything before and he didn’t want to turn her down. He wanted to catch her eye and was so frustrated that at that moment he probably would have agreed to anything to do it.

“Shall I see if he’s any good with a sword?” asked Asad from atop his horse.

“Oh, I am,” Calais assured him, following them across the field.

Drake glanced down at the man’s hand. Two fingers of his left hand were missing. “I can see that,” he commented. The man shoved his wounded hand behind his back.

“You did say you’d be in need of a squire soon, my lord,” Asad reminded him with a ridiculous grin on his face.

“Thank you so much for reminding me.” He would have to reprimand Asad later for playing the side of his wife in this cruel jest. “But I’m afraid no one could fill your shoes, Asad. Besides, the positions of squire and knight are reserved for nobility. He’s not a son of a nobleman. He’s only a commoner.”

“Please, my lord?” Brynn cooed again. “For me?”

“Yes, my lord,” Asad nodded and motioned toward Brynn. “For your wife?”

Drake shook his head at Asad trying to send him a silent warning that he didn’t appreciate any of this. He let out an exasperated breath. He didn’t know why it meant so much to Brynn that he train this man as one of his warriors, but if it made her attitude warmer to him, than so be it. He didn’t want to spend another night alone in the mews. He would do whatever it took to gain his wife’s favors.

“All right,” he agreed, and was instantly rewarded with a hand squeeze from Brynn. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. A positive move in the right direction to mend their ill-strewn marriage.

“I’ll give you a week,” he told Calais. “If you show promise, I’ll take you on as my squire.”

“Squire?” asked Calais in surprise. “I would much rather be a knight, my lord.”

“No man is knighted unless he’s gone through his apprenticeship as squire first. You’re already past the age of being a squire, not to mention you are a commoner. You should be happy with my decision. ’Tis the best I can do.”

Calais didn’t look at all pleased, but nodded his head in agreement.

“I’ll start training him at once,” suggested Asad.

“Us,” Brynn corrected him.

“My lady?” Asad looked at her in question.

“I’d like to go through the training too.”

“My lord?” Asad looked to Drake in desperation.

“Definitely not!” Drake growled.

She gave him that little pout. The pout that made him want to kiss it right off her face. Then she gave him the eyes which just about shattered him. “No wife of mine will be seen running around in my tunic with bare legs, wielding a sword.”

“I refuse to leave,” she challenged him.

“I am your lord and husband, you’ll do as I say.”

“I am your wife and I’ll - ”

She never had the chance of finishing her statement. He flung her over his shoulder and dumped her into the horse’s trough of cold water. She came up sputtering, wiping the water from her eyes, gasping for breath in a panicked sort of way. Then he remembered she’d told him she feared water.