Forbidden

by Elizabeth Lowell

  His mind might be closed like a fist against her, but his body wasn’t.

  Amber made a soft sound as her own body softened in a heated rush. She prayed that Duncan hadn’t heard the telltale break and thickening of her breath.

  And she prayed that he had.

  The same instinct that had told Amber about Duncan in that first single touch had been whispering relentlessly to her since he had looked at her and seen his betrayer rather than his lover.

  Instinct and gift combined told Amber that she must somehow get past Duncan’s rage before it destroyed both of them, and the people of Stone Ring Keep as well. If desire was the only way to reach him…

  Then let it burn.

  “Tell Cassandra I am bathing,” Amber said huskily.

  Deliberately she shifted in the tub so that her profile rather than her back was to the screens. Slowly, gracefully, she trickled fragrant water over her shoulders and breasts. Crystal drops ran down the shadow cleft between her breasts and gathered in glittering crowns on nipples that had tightened simply at the sound of Duncan’s voice.

  Amber heard Duncan draw in his breath. As she had hoped, he was watching her through the space where the screens didn’t completely meet. She wished she could see him as well as he was seeing her.

  And as naked.

  “You don’t usually bathe at this time of day,” Duncan said.

  Like Amber’s voice, Duncan’s said more than his words.

  She shrugged, sending intriguing patterns of light, shadow, and moisture over her breasts.

  “I’m not usually held prisoner,” Amber said.

  She lifted her arms and reached behind her head to tuck up stray strands of her hair. Her breasts swayed gently. The nipples gathered into even higher crowns. Silhouetted against the fire, she appeared to be licked by amorous flames.

  With a throttled sound, Duncan forced himself to look away. The first thing he saw was the dinner that had been brought hours before to Amber’s room. Little had been touched. Less had been eaten.

  “Is something wrong with your food?” he asked roughly.

  “No.”

  “You must eat more,” he said.

  “Why? It takes little strength to be a prisoner.”

  The calm question infuriated Duncan. He had no answer save that the thought of her fasting when there was no religious need disturbed him.

  Abruptly Duncan turned and headed for the door. This time he made no attempt to be silent. The clink and rub of chain-mail hauberk and hood, chausses, gauntlets, and sword announced that the lord of the keep was prepared for battle.

  But he hadn’t been prepared to find his enemy naked.

  “Finish your bath,” Duncan said in a harsh voice. “Be quick about it. If you aren’t in the great hall before I become impatient, I’ll send a scullery wench in to dress you and drag you forth.”

  The door to the room shut with emphasis, announcing that Duncan had left.

  Anger and disappointment swept through Amber, but she wasn’t foolish enough to test her husband’s temper by dragging her feet. Whether Duncan knew it or not, she would rather have been whipped than forced to endure being touched by all but three people in the world.

  Cassandra was one of them. Erik was another. The third had just left in a fury.

  It was a very short time before Amber appeared in the solar, wearing a gown the color of highland pines. Against the dark green of her gown, the ancient amber pendant glowed as though on fire. Her hair was a loose, flowing cloud held back from her face by a silver circlet set with amber gems the precise color of her eyes.

  Duncan looked at Amber as though she were a stranger. A glance, no more, before he turned again to watch the Learned woman whose gray eyes had never looked more like a winter sky.

  “As you see,” Duncan said curtly, gesturing toward the doorway, “Amber is unharmed.”

  Cassandra turned and looked at the girl she had raised as her own daughter.

  “How goes it with you?” Cassandra asked.

  “It is as you foresaw.”

  Pain passed like a shadow over the Learned woman’s face at Amber’s soft words. Cassandra bowed her head for a moment. When she looked up again, there was no expression on her face at all. She turned toward Duncan.

  “Thank you, lord,” Cassandra said quietly. “I will trouble you no more.”

  “Hold,” Duncan said when Cassandra would have turned away.

  “Yes?” she asked calmly.

  “What did you foresee for Amber?”

  “Nothing that would affect your ability to rule Stone Ring Keep, its people, or its lands.”

  “Amber,” Duncan said without looking away from Cassandra. “Touch the Learned woman while I question her.”

  Disbelief showed in Amber’s face for an instant. Then anger came.

  “There is no reason to doubt her word,” Amber said stiffly.

  Duncan’s smile was as cold as Cassandra’s eyes.

  “No reason for you, perhaps,” he said. “She has no affection for me.”

  “Daughter,” Cassandra said, holding out her hand. “Your husband is uneasy. Reassure him.”

  Amber took the other woman’s elegant fingers between her own. The emotions that poured into Amber were complex, powerful, darkly seething with all that had been risked.

  And lost.

  Closing her eyes, Amber fought against the tears that Cassandra would not shed.

  “I have foreseen nothing that would affect your hold on Stone Ring Keep, its people, or its lands,” Cassandra repeated.

  “It is the truth,” Amber said.

  She put Cassandra’s palm against her cheek in a brief caress and released her.

  Unease rippled through Duncan. Though nothing more was said, he could feel the sadness flowing between the two women.

  It was as though they were saying good-bye.

  “What did you foresee for Amber?” he demanded again.

  Neither woman spoke.

  “What did you foresee?”

  Cassandra looked at Amber. She shook her head.

  “That is a matter between Amber and myself,” Cassandra said, looking back at Duncan.

  “I am lord of this keep. You will answer me!”

  “Aye,” the Learned woman said, “you are lord of this keep. My answer is that what passed between Amber and myself has naught to do with the safety of this keep.”

  Duncan looked into Cassandra’s calm gray eyes and knew that he would get no better answer from her.

  “Amber,” he said, “you will tell me what I seek.”

  “To use my gift merely to satisfy idle curiosity would be a sin. You are lord of the people’s bodies, not of their minds.”

  Duncan came out of the riven oak chair as though shot from a bow. His hand clamped around Amber’s arm. She barely had time to prepare herself for whatever pain might come along with the pleasure of his touch.

  But there was no preparation possible for what poured into Amber with Duncan’s touch. Rage and desire, contempt and yearning, restraint and grief, a torment that knew no bounds. There was no beginning to it, no end, no place to hide.

  His pain and her own combined.

  A keening sound of anguish was dragged from between Amber’s clenched teeth.

  “Amber?” he said roughly.

  She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. It was all she could do simply to stand upright against the combined torrent of their emotions.

  “It would be kinder to take a whip to her,” Cassandra said bitterly. “But you feel no kindness toward her now, do you?”

  “What in the name of God are you chattering about?” Duncan shot back. “I’m not holding her tightly enough to give pain.”

  “You could break her bones and she would feel no worse.”

  “Make sense, woman!” Duncan snarled.

  “I am. Whether light or heavy, your touch is agony to her.”

  Duncan looked at Amber, seeing her rather than his own rage. She was as pale as s
alt. The centers of her eyes had dilated until there were only glittering rims of gold. A sheen of sweat stood on her cold skin. Strength visibly drained from her with every quick, shallow breath she took.

  Shaken, Duncan released Amber as though she were a burning brand.

  She sank to her knees, put her arms around her cold body, and fought to bring the pain under control. It was possible now that Duncan wasn’t touching her.

  Possible, but agonizing.

  “I don’t understand,” Duncan said, baffled and angry at once. “My touch used to give you pleasure. Is it because my mind is whole now?”

  Amber shook her head.

  “Then what in the name of Mary and Jesus is happening!” Duncan demanded.

  For a moment Amber struggled to speak. Then she simply shook her head again.

  “Your rage,” Cassandra said simply.

  Duncan spun toward her. The look in his eyes would have made an armed knight flinch, but the Learned woman made no move away from the lord of Stone Ring Keep.

  “Speak plainly,” he ordered.

  “’Tis simple. You are consumed by rage. When you touch Amber, she feels your hatred of her as greatly as she once felt your pleasure. Beating her with a whip would cause less pain.”

  Stunned, Duncan looked at his own hands as though they belonged to a stranger. Never had he beaten a horse, a woman, or a child. The thought of causing such pain with no more than a touch sickened him.

  “How could Erik have used her gift to discover truth?” Duncan asked in a low voice. “He is a monster!”

  “Nay,” Amber said raggedly. “Most people give me but a few instants of pain.”

  “What of Simon?” Duncan demanded. “You fainted.”

  “Simon had but one thought when he grabbed my wrist. Loathing for me. He is a man of intense passion. It overwhelmed me.”

  “What of Erik?” Duncan asked bluntly. “I doubt that his passions are timid.”

  “Nay. Nor do they wound me. He has tenderness for me, and I for him.”

  Duncan grimaced.

  Cassandra looked from Duncan to Amber.

  “Duncan is a man of great passion,” Cassandra said softly to Amber. “Why didn’t his hatred overwhelm you?”

  “Because he feels other things for me as well. It is tearing him apart. It is tearing me as well.”

  With that, Amber came back to her feet. She took a step, stumbled, and would have fallen if Duncan hadn’t caught her before he thought of the hurt his touch would cause. He released her as quickly as he had caught her.

  “I didn’t mean to…”

  Duncan’s voice faded and he made a baffled gesture with his hands. No matter how furious he was with the witch who had betrayed him, the thought of his simple touch causing such pain for her bothered him in ways he didn’t want to name.

  “’Tis all right,” Amber said in a low voice. “It wasn’t nearly so hurtful the second time.”

  “Why?”

  “The rage was still there, but it was overwhelmed by your horror at causing me such pain.”

  A shuttered look came over Duncan’s face as he realized how clearly Amber saw him.

  More clearly than he saw himself.

  More clearly than he wanted to see.

  “Then,” Cassandra said, “there is hope.”

  “Duncan is a decent man,” Amber said wearily.“Weave your hopes upon that, rather than upon my future.”

  “Hope?” Duncan asked. “Of what?”

  Neither woman spoke.

  Duncan turned on his heel and sat again in the lord’s chair.

  “I see that you are quite restored,” he challenged.

  A chill gathered in Amber. Duncan’s softening toward her had been only momentary.

  “Yes,” she said tonelessly.

  “Then we will continue. Are the Learned plotting against me?” Duncan asked.

  Cassandra’s hand lifted to brush against Amber’s cheek.

  “No,” Cassandra said.

  “No,” Amber echoed.

  “Does Cassandra hope that they will?”

  “No,” Cassandra said.

  “No,” Amber echoed.

  For a time there was silence but for the cry of wind around the keep and the whistling of a servant as he drew water from the well below the solar.

  Then Amber sensed people coming into the room behind her. She didn’t look to see who it was. She had attention only for the proud warrior who was gazing at her with far too much darkness in his eyes.

  “As you requested,” Simon said from the doorway. “Although what you will do with this lazy lout is beyond me.”

  Duncan looked beyond Amber and smiled slightly.

  “Stay by the door, Simon, if you please.”

  Simon nodded.

  “Egbert,” Duncan said. “Step forward.”

  Amber heard the squire’s footsteps begin, hesitate, and then set off at a different angle, giving her a wide berth.

  “No,” Duncan said. “Stand close to the witch.”

  “Which one, lord?”

  Duncan shot the squire a cold glance. “Amber.”

  Egbert edged close enough that Amber could see his shock of reddish hair from the corner of her eye.

  “Touch him,” Duncan said distinctly, looking at Amber.

  A chill gathered in Amber.

  “A few moments of discomfort, I believe you said?” Duncan asked in a soft voice.

  Amber turned to Egbert, who was watching her with fear in his eyes.

  “This won’t hurt you,” she said quietly. “Hold out your hand.”

  “But Erik will hang me if I touch you!”

  “Erik,” Duncan said in a dangerous voice, “is no longer lord of this keep. I am. Your hand, squire.”

  Jerkily, Egbert held out his hand to Amber. She put a single fingertip against it, flinched subtly, and turned to Duncan.

  The pallor of Amber’s skin angered Duncan all over again.

  “Why so pale, witch?” he asked. “Egbert is but a half-grown boy. Compared to a man’s passion, it must be less than a candle flame against a roaring hearth fire.”

  “Is that a question?” Amber asked.

  Duncan’s mouth flattened. He switched his savage attention to the squire.

  “If you remain at the keep, will you be loyal to me?” Duncan asked.

  “I—I—”

  “Amber?” Duncan demanded.

  “No,” she said tonelessly. “He would be for-sworn. His oath has been given to Erik. Egbert may be lazy, but he values his honor.”

  Duncan grunted.

  “You will leave for Winterlance at dawn,”Duncan said to Egbert. “If you are seen outside your quarters before then, you will be presumed to be an enemy bent on treachery, and you will be treated as such. Go.”

  Egbert all but ran from the solar.

  “Bring the next one, Simon.”

  Cassandra made an involuntary motion of her hand as though to intervene.

  “Be still or begone,” Duncan said coldly. “The witch was Erik’s weapon once. Now she is mine.”

  THE hearth fire was freshened three times before Duncan sorted through the keep’s squires, men-at-arms, and servants. The squires were all loyal to their oaths and to Erik. The men-at-arms were locally born. They were loyal to the keep rather than to any one lord. It was the same for the servants, who were drawn from the keep’s families.

  When the last scrying was done, Amber slumped in a chair near the fire, too weary even to hold her cold hands out to the flames. Pale and tightly drawn, her face was a silent rebuke to the man who had used her too hard.

  “May I offer my daughter refreshment?” Cassandra asked.

  Though the Learned woman’s voice was neutral, Duncan felt as though he had been slapped.

  “It is within her reach,” he said curtly. “If she wishes to eat or drink, she has but to stretch out her hand.”

  “She is too spent.”

  “Why?” Duncan’s voice was angry. “
She said it was but a few moments of discomfort.”

  “There is a candle next to you,” Cassandra said. “Hold your hand on the tip of the flame.

  He looked at her as though she had lost her mind.

  “Do you think I’m mad?” he asked.

  “I think you wouldn’t ask your knights to do anything that you wouldn’t do yourself. Am I correct?”

  “Aye.”

  “Excellent,” Cassandra hissed. “Then hold your hand over the candle flame, lord. The space of two breaths, no more than three.”

  “No,” Amber said dully. “He didn’t know.”

  “Then he will learn. Won’t you, proud lord?”

  Duncan narrowed his eyes at the naked challenge in Cassandra’s voice. Without a word he stripped off one gauntlet and held his hand over the candle flame for the space of one breath.

  Two breaths.

  Three.

  “And now?” he challenged Cassandra, drawing back from the flame.

  “Do it again. Same hand. Same skin.”

  “No!” Amber said, reaching for the wine. “I’m well, mentor. See? I drink and eat.”

  Duncan put his hand in the flame again. Same hand. Same place on his palm.

  One breath, two, three.

  Then he withdrew and looked at Cassandra.

  She smiled savagely. “Again.”

  “Are you—” Duncan began.

  “Then again,” Cassandra continued. “And then again. Thirty-two times—”

  Comprehension came to Duncan in a wave of coldness. That was the exact number of people whose truth Amber had questioned by touch.

  “—until your flesh smokes and burns and you want to cry out, but don’t, for it would change nothing, especially the pain.”

  “Enough.”

  “Why so shocked, proud lord?” Cassandra mocked softly. “As you said, the candle is only a shadow of the hearth fire. But the flame…the flame burns just as deeply in time.”

  “I didn’t know,” Duncan said through his teeth.

  “Then you had better learn the nature of the weapon you wield, lest you break it in your ignorance and arrogance!”

  “I had to know what the people of the keep were thinking.”

  “Yes,” Cassandra acknowledged. “But it could have been more gently done.”