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Avelynn: The Edge of Faith

Page 14

by Marissa Campbell


  The ache in my stomach tightened with a delicious mix of uncertainty and excitement. She closed the distance and smiled against me. Her tongue swept the underside of my top teeth.

  My hands curled tight at my sides. I didn’t know where to put them, or what to touch, or not touch. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Cool air passed between us as she pulled away and giggled. “You just need to relax.”

  She reached down and took my hand in hers, coaxing the fingers to open one at a time. “Let’s start with something simple.” She eased me back until I reclined on the couch, looking up at her in wonder. She was beautiful—her lips a deep red, her eyes a verdant green that shimmered with flecks of gold in the warm candlelight. She leaned over me, her hair pooling on my chest. “Touch me.” Her voice teased, a faint whisper as she nuzzled my ear. Her lips suckled my neck. “Explore my body.” Her lips found their way back to mine and her kiss deepened, her lips swollen with passion. My body responded.

  My hands found their way to her back and fanned out to the deep indent of her waist, creeping higher up her ribs, pausing beneath her breasts. My heart pounded hard in my ears. I wondered if she could hear it too.

  She sat up and lifted her breasts free of the kirtle. The hem created a shelf, as if her breasts were on display. I studied them, fascinated. Her nipples were half the size of my palm, and a deep tanned color against her snow white skin. They were much darker than mine. Tentatively, I reached out and brushed the tip. I watched in amazement as the entire thing tightened, the bud hardening. She let out a whimper of longing, and I brushed it again. I tried to imagine what would feel good to me. I cupped and massaged her breasts with my palms and rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, tugging ever so slightly.

  She reached beneath her skirt. “I’m going to pleasure myself. Don’t stop.”

  Her movements pulsed, and her moans and whimpers grew louder, more desperate. I watched in amazement as her breath quickened. Her rhythm became frantic. Her legs trembled, her body shaking. She braced her free hand on the edge of the couch. My desire crested with her. Her head tipped back and she cried out, coming undone in front of my eyes.

  She looked upon me with a satisfied grin. “That was wonderful. Thank you.”

  I nodded, wordless.

  “Now it’s your turn.”

  “I can’t …”

  “Shhh.” She placed a finger on my mouth. “I don’t expect you to do that in front of me.” A glimmer of mischief raised one side of her mouth. “Yet.” She fixed her dress and pulled me up into a seated position. “Scoot forward.”

  I did as directed, until I perched at the edge of the couch. She placed her hands on my thighs, pressing outward, until they slid wide apart. She sat on the rushes between my legs. She kept her eyes locked with mine as her hands slipped beneath my kirtle. Her fingers caressed my ankles.

  She smiled. I swallowed.

  She tucked a thumb over the hem and slid her palms up my shins. The dress hiked higher. She stopped at my knees. My body trembled with desire and anticipation. My palms, slick with sweat, gripped the edge of the chair. She folded the fabric, letting it rest on my thighs.

  “Lean back and hold on.”

  My shoulder rested against the back of the chair, and I reached out my arms, gripping the curved rail.

  She slid her hands beneath the dress and pulled the fabric up my thighs. She reached around and grabbed my backside, squeezing. Kisses traveled up one leg and then the other, until her lips hovered between them. I needed her to touch me. Every inch of my body begged for it.

  She slipped a finger into the wet folds, and my legs flinched. I tightened my hold on the chair. My breath hitched shallow and fast. My heart raced.

  “Keep your eyes open. Look at me.”

  I met her gaze, forcing myself to keep eye contact.

  Her tongue reached out and lapped at my center. My legs turned to liquid. Her fingers dipped in and out. Her mouth and tongue caressed every part of me. They explored every facet of passion before focusing on the spot that would be my undoing.

  “Stay with me.”

  I wanted to throw my head back and ride the crest, eyes closed, but I held on. I met her bold challenge. The pressure built higher. Her touch drove me to the edge, but it was her voice echoing in my mind, her eyes challenging, that catapulted me over.

  “Come for me, Avelynn. Let me see you.”

  I dissolved, disappearing into her gaze, my body overcome with release. I collapsed, panting. She slid down my dress and drew my legs together.

  She tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’m so glad we finished our conversation.”

  I couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped.

  A summons at the door interrupted our parlay, and she moved to answer it.

  The girl held out a letter. “A messenger arrived this morning, but the missive got misplaced. I’m sorry, m’lady.”

  Angharad frowned, but her mood was light. “No harm done.”

  The girl handed Angharad the note and curtsied, shutting the door behind her. Angharad locked the bolt. “It’s from Ealhswith.” She cracked the seal and unfolded the stiff parchment. Her eyes scanned the page, her smile bright before it disappeared. Her face drained of color.

  I stood. “What is it?”

  She handed me the note. Ealhswith’s neat hand scrawled across the page.

  Dearest foster sister,

  I hope this missive finds you well. Much has happened since we spoke last. But first, the good news. I am with child. Alfred is overjoyed, and the news has cheered him greatly. He has been under much duress and strain with the Vikings pressing their threats and campaigns. Aethelred has taken to his bed, getting weaker by the day. The Witan has met to name Alfred the king of Wessex should his brother succumb to his injuries. Wulfrida is beside herself; the thought of losing my own husband terrifies me. These are such terrible times.

  You will remember my dear friend, Avelynn. She has met with the most desperate of troubles. She has fled England, a spate of crimes on her head. Her uncle wants her returned to Wedmore and delivered into his care. He has offered an exorbitant sum for her capture. I fear for her safety daily and pray she is somewhere far away from Osric’s reach. Her betrothed, Demas, who you will remember from my last letter, has worked a miracle and is healing. The very priest who tended Avelynn’s wounds after she was tortured managed to rouse the vile bastard to life. The lord works in mysterious ways.

  I was dismayed to hear of your troubles with Gwynedd. It seems there is no place free from strife. I pray you are keeping well and hope the conflicts end in victory for Gwgon.

  Yours in friendship,

  Ealhswith

  My hands trembled, and I sat down on the nearest chair.

  Angharad retrieved the letter. “If the message has reached me, surely the news is being received around Wales. Your story is sensational. This will spread like wildfire.”

  Demas was alive. It was worse than I imagined. I couldn’t remain here. Angharad was right. I needed to leave Wales. I had to get as far away from Demas and Osric as possible.

  “I will help you any way I can.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “There is nothing to say; we just need to sort out how best to proceed.”

  Her words made me laugh despite myself. “You sound so much like Ealhswith. She was always the calm one. Always planning.” I missed her terribly

  “It’s too late now, but tomorrow, you must bring Alrik. I will have Gwgon meet us here. I will come up with something.” She squeezed my hand. “Try and get some rest. We’ll figure it out.”

  March 29

  The following morning, we gathered in Angharad’s chambers. Gwgon and Alrik sat on one of the benches, while Eadfrith reclined on the couch, watching his cousin pace the floor. I wasn’t sure why Angharad had invited Eadfrith to this secret meeting, but I trusted her judgement. I sat rigid with worry on a chair.

  Angharad took charge of th
e proceedings, sharing the crux of the letter.

  “Those are serious charges.” Gwgon’s tone was flat. “We risk our reputation by association.”

  “We risk damning an innocent woman if we do nothing. You were quick to come to the aid of Marared and the accusations laid by Llewlyn at her feet. I expect you to do the same for my friend.” Angharad waited, arms crossed.

  “I will agree to the request out of respect for Jarl Alrik, but should matters worsen, I cannot guarantee Avelynn’s safety.” Gwgon’s gaze settled on me.

  “I appreciate your charity,” I said.

  Angharad continued, relaying my plight and how the charges came about. “Demas and Osric are evil, ambitious men. No one must know Avelynn is from Wedmore. No one must make the connection between the woman wanted for treason and witchcraft and the woman seated here.”

  I swallowed and looked across at Alrik. If I were caught, the hefty reward for my capture would ensure a one-way return trip to England. Once Osric got his hands on me, I was as good as dead. Since Demas had managed to stay alive, that death would come slowly and painfully.

  “How long before we are to confront Rhodri?” Angharad asked Gwgon.

  “We’ve set the assault for a week’s time. Rhodri is camped far in the north, near the borderlands of Ceredigion. We will march to the coast and block his advance.”

  I directed my own question to Gwgon. “Do you have any ships we could use? Or means of acquiring a sail large enough to outfit a long ship?”

  Gwgon shook his head. “I do not own a fleet. The few ships I have are small carracks and merchant vessels, barely enough for a handful of men to sail, never mind sixty warriors and all their gear.”

  Alrik stood and placed his hand on my shoulder. “I will not desert the cause. I have pledged my word. If we are to fight in a week’s time, we will spend much of that in travel. If we are lucky, we will outpace the gossip and leave Wales before the news catches up with us.”

  Gwgon stood. “Word of your tale has not reached my ears, nor have I heard any whispers at court.” He addressed Alrik. “We can leave on the morrow. My men and I are ready.”

  Alrik nodded. “Inform Hyffaid that we march at dawn.”

  Eadfrith cleared his throat. “There is another way. I am to leave in two days. There is a group of us, all holy people, traveling to St. David’s. From there, we are set to sail to the continent. You could come with us. There are two nuns accompanying us. Perhaps you could borrow robes, conceal your identity until you are safely at sea.”

  Alrik loomed over me. “I will not have you traveling with him.”

  I glared at him. “What Eadfrith is offering is a generous compromise. His gesture is not without risk to himself. If you will not take me to the continent, perhaps he can see to my safety.”

  Eadfrith smiled. “I mean no disrespect. I am a good man, trying to do a good deed.”

  “With my betrothed.”

  The room grew silent. Only the hiss and snap of the hearth fire disturbed the quietude of tense air between us.

  “Excuse me.” I stormed from the room.

  Alrik’s wide strides caught up with me in moments. I ignored him, continuing my pace, determined to reach my cottage and slam the door in his face.

  “Avelynn, stop.”

  I’d almost succeeded in slipping inside to safety, but his big paw reached around the edge as the door crashed into the frame. He swore. I winced. He pushed his way into the cottage, rubbing his hand, his jaw locked.

  “How dare you,” I said. “You would refuse me safe passage for fear of another man’s attentions, yet I am to let Marared threaten and bewitch me while you protect her?”

  “I do not believe his intentions are honorable.”

  “And yours are? Your actions have been selfish and arrogant. You haven’t spared a moment for my safety or well-being since we arrived here.”

  He scowled. “Will you not trust that I am dealing with the situation?”

  “Dealing how?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I warned Marared that if she caused your illness, I would cut out her tongue and hang her by her toes until they ripped away. I was quite clear. If anything happened to you as a result of her threats, death would be a privilege she would beg for.”

  “You still don’t believe me.”

  “I would be no better than the priests or the men in England who accuse you of the same if I charged her with witchcraft and condemned her without proof. I do not doubt her hostility toward you, but I do not want to believe she is capable of such malice. Regardless of my thoughts on the matter, it has not stopped me from trying to protect you.”

  “Protect me? How on earth is any of this protecting me?” I wanted to slap him.

  “On Odin’s eye, woman. Everything I have done has been for you. Can you not see that? I have nothing. No claim to property. No name. No home to provide for you. I am trying to regain my honor so that I might have something to offer you. I have pledged my word. Would you have my word mean nothing too? Would you have me further disgraced?”

  “I don’t need honor or property or a home. I need you.”

  “And where are we to go? How will I provide for you when my men have left my side? Am I to beg from village to village to put food in your belly? Would you have me broken? Would you have me on my knees?” He collapsed onto a chair.

  I went to him, dropping to the rushes. I held his cheek, the stubble coarse and soft against my palm. I kissed his eyelids. I kissed his cheek. I kissed his mouth. “I’m so sorry, Alrik. I’ve been selfish. Please forgive me.”

  He drew me onto his lap. “There is nothing to forgive, Seiðkana. I only wish I could do more.”

  “You’ve done enough.”

  “I have sworn to protect you. I have proven myself in battle. I have no equal with a sword, but if these threats are real, I am useless to you. I cannot fight magic.”

  “You can’t protect me, Alrik. Whether it’s from some evil plot or the coming battle. At some point you must sleep or let down your guard. This letter from Ealhswith is a warning. I’m running out of time. Once word of Osric’s gold gets out, nowhere will be safe. I need to leave.”

  “No one else has heard this news. The tale is not common knowledge. I am asking for more time.” He held my hands in his. “The Christian pilgrimage is set to sail from St. David’s in a week. If the situation becomes dire, you can join with them then. We will push the conflict forward, confront Rhodri sooner, and leave Wales before anyone else is the wiser to our plight.” He ran his thumb across my lips. “I do not want to lose you.”

  “You bloody stubborn Viking. There is no man in my life but you. I love you, Alrik the Bloodaxe Ragnarson. Eadfrith means nothing to me. No one could ever compete with you for my heart.”

  He enfolded me in his arms. He would be my shield for a little while longer.

  He kissed my forehead. “Come. They will be waiting.”

  Everyone tactfully ignored my outburst, and Angharad sent us on our way, each of us charged with the mission to downplay and deny any rumors that might surface. Alrik left me in her care while he informed Tollak and his crew of the slight change in schedule.

  “Ready?” Angharad asked.

  When I nodded, she led me back into the hall as the community gathered for the daily feast. I excused myself and approached Eadfrith. He leaned against one of the columns, ankles crossed as he enjoyed a cup of mead.

  “I wanted to thank you for your offer,” I said.

  His smile was warm, but reserved. “I am sorry for my presumptuousness. I didn’t know the Viking would take offense.”

  I waved his fears away. “I am grateful for your kindness. Alrik has agreed with my concerns and will concede to my wishes should I choose to join you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Yes, but he’s asked for more time. If we haven’t left Wales by the time your ship is set to sail, you may find me on the quay, ready to board.”

  He dow
ned the cup of mead. “Wonderful.” He waved over a steward, who poured me a deep cup of the honey nectar. “To new opportunities.”

  I smiled and set my cup to his.

  “Come.” He took my hand. “Let me introduce you to some of my traveling companions.” He led me to a small party of monks and nuns, drawing an older woman away from the cloistered group.

  “May I present Sister Frances,” he said. “She has just returned from the continent.”

  I had to crane my neck to look at her. I curtsied. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

  She stepped forward and clasped my hand. “Brother Eadfrith mentioned you might be traveling with his party to Francia.”

  Eadfrith pointed across the room at Alrik, whose back was turned in conversation with Hyffaid. “Her escort is under the impression I am a scoundrel, and as such, I’ve yet to convince the lady to sail with us.”

  Frances’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “I can’t say I blame him. I wouldn’t trust you either around such a delightful creature.”

  Eadfrith brought his hand to his heart. “You wound me.”

  “I merely point out the obvious. You, my good friend, are trouble.”

  “So you will not help my cause.”

  “Not one bit.”

  I smirked, amused by their familiar banter.

  Eadfrith bowed. “Then I will leave you two to discuss my baser nature while I drown my aggrieved pride in more mead.”

  “How long have you two known one another?” I asked, watching Eadfrith join the group of monks behind us.

  “Since he was a boy. The scamp—hasn’t changed one bit.” Her smile was affectionate, like a mother looking upon a favored child. “But he’s harmless. A good man at heart.” She directed her warmth at me. “Where overseas are you headed?”

  “To Francia to start. After that, I’m not certain. My betrothed has business at several ports.” I worried the answer might be too vague, but I couldn’t let anyone know our intentions.

  “I was just in Flanders.”

  “Flanders? Did you have the opportunity to visit Queen Judith?”

  “Your English Queen is a countess now, but yes, I spent much time with her. She sent for me, to oversee the construction and operations of a beautiful new abbey.”

 

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