Heart of the Dove

by Tina St. John

  "I am certain of it." He held her captive in his unwavering gaze, his look boring into her as if to search for deception. "That's why I spent most of the night and this morning scouring the beach, looking to see if the tide might have swept it away, and if it might return."

  "It must be very valuable, to be so important to you."

  "It is very important. Understand that I won't rest until I find it."

  There was a threat lurking in that low-voiced statement, a challenge that seemed just a hairbreadth away from fury. Everything about this man seethed. Serena glanced down and realized she had been slowly backing away from him, fearing he might lash out, provoked or nay.

  "I don't know anything about this object you've lost. I swear it."

  His reply was as deadly calm as his look. "Pray you don't."

  He stood up, and took the filled bucket in hand. "Now show me the other water source in these woods. This well is but a small spring fed from a greater one, is it not?"

  Serena gaped at him, but she did not attempt to evade him with falsehoods. "There is a waterfall not far from here," she admitted, not without reluctance, for the cascade and crystalline pool at its base was something of a sacred haven, not meant for outsiders to enjoy, so said Calandra since the time Serena was a little girl. Serena had steered him away from it in coming to this well for water, but she might have known this hawk-eyed knight would not take long to invade every corner of the land she called her home.

  "Which way?" he prompted when she was not quick to lead him.

  Serena pointed past his beefy shoulder. "It is through there. No path will take us to the falls. We'll have to cut through this way."

  At his gesture to begin, she strode forward, uncomfortably aware of his presence too near her as they walked.

  Traversing the thick summer foliage of the forest required concentration, for Serena in particular. Uneasy with her hulking companion striding along beside her, she was lost to distraction. Twice she nearly slipped on the leafy undergrowth, and each time Rand reached out to catch her. She was careful not to touch him in reflex, but when her shoe became lodged under a sturdy green vine in midstep, she suddenly found herself held upright only by the surety of Rand's strong grip, clamped around the fingers of her left hand.

  Irritation, said the Knowing, awakening to read him in that quick instant.

  Impatience. Too much time wasted here already. Damn the storm! Damn these unfamiliar surroundings, the weakness of these wounds. Too far from home. Too far from all that matters. Can't go back until it's ended. Blood for blood. Pain for pain. It will be enough.

  His thoughts passed through Serena in a fleeting wave of heat and anger, soundless words, though brittle as a shout in her mind. Buffeted by the dark voice of the Knowing, Serena felt a momentary unsteadiness. She calmed herself, willed herself to withstand the blackness of his torment, which raged just beneath the surface of his outward calm.

  "This way," she said, guiding him through the lush thicket.

  The forest quickly became more dense, the ground more uneven, climbing toward rocky inclines that taxed with each step. Serena looked back to check that Rand was making the trek without difficulty, though why she should concern herself with his wellbeing she really did not know. His face showed his strain, but he kept easy pace with her despite the fatigue of his injured body. She doubted he would be the sort to give in, even if he were walking up to death's own door.

  Relentless. That was how she was coming to think of him in the short time he had been there, intruding on her life with his simmering rage and dominating ways. While it was not a quality she had been taught to admire, Serena could not help feeling a measure of respect for the solidity and resolve of the man. Nor could she help but pity the one he sought to destroy.

  Vengeance, hissed the Knowing, reminding her of the darkness that drove this man.

  He had washed ashore on thoughts of revenge and murder, but for what ill? He and his family had been wronged, she guessed, recalling the sadness in his voice as he had spoken of them. He had been torn away from them, something Serena herself could not imagine. Her mother was all she had in this world; how dearly she would miss her if she were gone. But to be separated from a child and the one you love...she would not hope ever to know that sort of loneliness.

  "It is not far now," she said, turning back to reassure him with a sympathetic smile.

  He only grunted, a wordless rebuff tossed at her from under a heavy fall of hair that had swung down over his face.

  They walked the rest of the way in silence, until the roar of the waterfall drummed out even the thought of conversation. Serena skirted around a sprawling, ancient ash tree, and paused to face him.

  "We are here."

  He nodded once, then strode past her to enter first, his left hand trailing behind, outstretched as though to hold her back until he had deemed it safe for her to enter. It seemed a protective gesture, one done on instinct more than out of any particular care for her, but Serena waited until he motioned her forward.

  As always, her breath was swept away on sight of the place.

  White veils of water spilled over the top of a wall of granite that rose, sharp and steep, on the other side of the pool. Overhead, sun rays angled down through the forest canopy, branching golden fingers of light that fragmented in the mist of the falls. Hues of red, orange, yellow, and green mixed with violet and blue, creating an arc of color that dazzled the eye. Beneath the radiant bow was a pool of fresh, crystalline water. Its surface danced with small, rippling waves from the churning white rush of the falls, but Serena knew there was tranquility and warmth below.

  The pool was as clear as a summer sky, and while the bottom was visible from where she and Rand now stood, it was but illusion, for the pool was as fathomless as the ocean itself. Serena had swum it since she was a child, and not for lack of trying had she ever had breath enough to dive down and touch the smooth floor that seemed only an arm's length away at any depth.

  "Impressive."

  "It is magnificent," Serena corrected, reverent as she feasted her gaze on the wondrous vision of the cascade.

  Rand, however, looked only for a moment. He glanced away, his eyes scanning the outlying area of the woods that surrounded them. How could he stand beside such natural beauty and not pause to stare agape as she did? Serena had seen the falls countless times--nearly once a day for all her life--and never remained unmoved by the sparkling, enigmatic splendor of the place.

  There was certain magic here, she believed, but Rand did not see it. How sad for him that he could not, or would not, appreciate something so inherently awe-inspiring as this gift of nature. Scowling now, he pivoted from the edge of the pool and strode away from her. Serena followed him reluctantly, loath to leave the cascade now that they were there. She knew not what drew Rand, but his attention was rooted on the leafy bramble some few yards in the distance.

  He got there first, and immediately hunched down to inspect something on the ground. Approaching cautiously, Serena suddenly realized what he had found. Dread coiled in her belly, coupled with a squeezing sense of outrage.

  On the ground, concealed by the fauna around it, was a neat construction of small rocks, arranged in a sharp arc. At the open end, the top of a springy sapling had been fastened to the earth by a length of strong twine, its small noose and leading line swept over with dirt and a handful of grain.

  Rand gestured to the snare. "Do you know what this is?"

  "Yes, of course," she said. "It is meant for killing doves. It is a trap."

  She brushed past him in a surge of dismay and anger. Kneeling in the undergrowth, she reached for the twine that held the piece in place, intent on dismantling the offensive killing machine.

  "Serena. Leave it." Rand did not touch her, but his stern voice made her pause. "There have been others like this one?"

  She nodded. "I've found two in the past month, but they were farther out in the woods, closer to the grove line. I took them down--just
as I will take this one down."

  Rand stepped closer now. "Leave it. Unless you mean to tell the hunters that you and your mother are here."

  "These are our woods," she said, defensive even though a trace of dread wormed into her heart. "The creatures that live here are my friends. We cause no harm to anyone, so I cannot abide harm coming to us. I won't abide it."

  "Do you think it so simple as that?" Rand shook his head, staring at her with what seemed a mixture of amusement and pity. "These woods belong to the king, as do all such woods in the realm. This trap does not belong to some lowborn poacher. Only a nobleman has leave to hunt such quarry; the lord who placed these traps here did so by his right. If you take them down, you do so at the risk of your own hand, for destroying his property. And you alert any who come to check these snares that a foolish young woman and her mother are squatting on royal lands, stealing the king's God-given bounty each time you take a meal or burn a fire to warm your cottage."

  Serena let out a huff of breath and rose to her feet. "Those are your rules--men's rules, not mine."

  "Like it or nay, those are the rules of this world. From this evidence here, you had better believe that very world you scorn will soon be standing at your doorstep."

  She did not like it at all, but it was hard to refute what Rand was saying. For a long while, she had felt the forest shrinking around her, the grove line seeming less distinct as trees thrust between the stones and the edges of the town beyond spread out, reaching for the woods. This trap was not the first sign she had seen of man, but it was the closest they had come so far. In her heart, though she dreaded it, she knew this would not be the last.

  "'Tis not safe for my mother and me anywhere but here. This is our home. I have lived in this forest all my nineteen summers, my mother even longer, and we have never known any trouble here."

  She looked back down at the snare, its deadly spring all but invisible on the ground, the scattered handful of grain inviting any unwitting dove to come and feast. It appeared fully safe, even tempting, so crafty was the manmade trap.

  "Leave it," Rand said to her again, as if knowing how badly she wanted to destroy it, whether doing so would betray her to the hunters or not. "Let it be."

  She thought of the crude men who would have laid the device, ignorant men, caring naught for the beauty they would destroy. This was but one trap; there had been others, and soon there would be more. Where would it stop, if not here?

  "Nay," she said at length. "I cannot simply let it be."

  Serena lunged down to ruin the snare, but was halted by the astonishing restraint of Rand's fingers, clamped about her hand. She whirled around to face him, stunned at the unyielding grip.

  Stubborn girl.

  His face was firm with command. She didn't care. "Let me go."

  "Don't let emotion rule you, Serena. You will regret it."

  You've no idea what trouble you may invite.

  "They have no right to hunt here," she replied, answering his thoughts as much as his command that she cease.

  "Hunters come in many forms, Serena. These men are no mean commoners. They serve an overlord, who serves the king. Where men like these want, they take. Do you understand?"

  "I do not fear them."

  "Then you are a fool. Leave the snare as it is. One hunter's quarry is not worth the price you might be made to pay should you be found raiding his nets."

  Such an innocent face, even in anger. Beautiful. Avenging angel of the forest, fierce yet fragile. Any would want you on sight. None would be able to walk away from such spritely sweetness and fire.

  Rand held her tighter, taking her by the elbow with his free hand, unaware that he only worsened her dizzy state. The Knowing, ever vigilant, seized on his thoughts at once.

  So warm, her skin. So soft...precious velvet bathed in sunlight. Fragrant, alive--too much so--such a queer effect she has. Something wise in her touch, something more intriguing than her beauty, more pure than her innocence. Life, to be sure, but something deeper. Leaping, twisting, reaching out. A caress, sweet and embracing, no harm here, only safety, only blessed sanctuary. God's blood, how easy it would be to lose oneself....

  "Very well." Serena heard her own voice, so small in the quiet of the glade. She did not wish to be touching him. Certainly she should feel no pleasure in it, not this tingling awareness that worsened with each whisper of his innermost thoughts and emotions. There was danger in his touch, she knew it with every hitching breath she tried to drag into her lungs. She threw him an urgent look, and tried once more to extricate her fingers from his grasp. "I will do nothing, if you just..."

  Let me go, she thought, but the words did not find their way to her tongue. She was held captive, as neatly as one of her doves, soon to be caught unawares in the trap she could not destroy. Rand stared at her, intense in his silence. Something sparked in his expression, then turned down the corners of his sculpted mouth.

  By the Saints, those eyes. A gaze like the ocean--blue-green, deep with secrets, not all of them hers. How deep did that gaze go? Too far. She was pulling him in, stripping him to raw flesh and bone.

  "Why do you look at me so?" he asked, something rough in his voice.

  Serena tried his grip again, but found it firm around her fingers.

  Suspicion.

  He did not trust her, true enough, but there was something more than anger in him now, something more than simple irritation with her.

  Desire.

  Shame.

  Fury.

  His emotions buffeted her like an engulfing tide. She could not break his hold or his gaze, which narrowed on her dangerously.

  Jesu, her eyes compel as a touch, beckoning, physical, and strong. Intruding. Nay, impossible! Madness to think it, yet...she is here, peering through thought and feeling, prying open doors better left shut and locked.

  Turn away from her. She will see too much....

  "What are you doing?" he demanded of her, scowling now. His grip went tighter, almost punishing. "What do you know about me?"

  Serena shook her head. "N-nothing."

  His anger flared, twisting around to protect him. She felt it as surely as a lash.

  "Nothing," he remarked, clearly disbelieving. "Then why do I feel you seek to look through me with the barest glance?"

  "I wish to do no such thing," she answered, wholly honest. Serena drew in a breath, trying to tamp down the powerful swell of the Knowing, which was swimming in her head, drowning out all but the swift torment of his feelings. "Why is it you seek so badly to hide?"

  In the long moments in which he did not reply, a wildness tightened his expression. Fury seared her fingers. He fumed at her bold question, but he would give her nothing. It saddened her, feeling the desperation with which he struggled to keep his emotions barred and silent. Deadened to all, including himself. All he permitted himself was rage. Everything else lay behind a thick wall of denial and fear.

  "You needn't fear me, Rand."

  Serena spoke in earnest, needing him to see that truth. He was as good as a stranger to her, but he was hurting in a way she could not fully comprehend, and there was little she could bear less than the suffering of another.

  "Fear you?" he scoffed, brittle, as if aiming to wound her in some way.

  "You can trust me," she told him, meaning it utterly. "There is no need to hide from me."

  For one teetering moment, she felt him weigh the notion. He considered...hoped...then shut her out with a mocking snarl of laughter.

  "You have no idea what you speak of, Serena. I am not one of your woodland creatures in need of rescue." He released her at once, letting go as if her touch scorched him as much as it did her. "This place is too peculiar by far. So, by God, are you, lady."

  Paused in the middle of the thick growth of the forest, Serena could only look at him. His touch was gone, his words lost to the gentle sounds of the forest around them, but the whisper of the Knowing still echoed in her ears.

  Can't hide from
the pain, from what I've done, from what I've lost.

  Elspeth.

  Serena could feel him clinging to the name, to the memory, even as he pivoted to stride away from her. The Knowing wrenched her heart as his own, his pain washing over her, his grief a raw wound. His guilt tore at her, a writhing torment she could hardly withstand.

  Never forget...never forsake the vow.

  Never desire another.

  * * *

  Rand stalked away from her, shaken to his core. What the devil had come over him back there? What manner of woman was she, that she seemed able to plumb his mind with a glance?

  He did not want to know. Nor did he want to consider the unexpected flare of desire that shot through him when he was holding her hand. It pulsed in him still, warm and alive. Unbidden. He had taken hold of her only to prevent her from ruining the trap and betraying her presence to curious hunters; instead he had been struck by her incredible gaze, by the tender sweetness of her skin.

  Lustful.

  Ravenous.

  Animal.

  That was what he had often been called in his wild youth, and, later, in his marriage bed. All were badges he had worn with no particular shame. Having descended from a long, proud line of rogues and scoundrels, it was not in his blood to ignore a beautiful face, but never had he taken what was not freely given. And never had his loyalty strayed once he had wed his lovely Elspeth.

  Sweet, sad Elspeth. She had been dead just two months and already her features were fading from his grasp. But not her sorrow. That, he knew, would never dim. Nor would the screams that shattered his ears and rent his heart in the moments before she was killed. She had cursed him, said she hated him for what he'd brought down upon them that night.

  He well deserved her scorn. He could not make it right, then or now. As ever, he could not fix matters where Elspeth was concerned. But he could make those who harmed her pay.