by Daisy Banks
She didn’t like him like this.
The moon had begun to edge down the sky when the tower came into view.
“Peace,” he mumbled. He gave a great sigh and then glanced back toward her. “Well, it was once. Now I’ve got you instead.” His shoulders shook as he chuckled quietly to himself and walked on.
They headed down the path and toward the tower.
He thought she’d broken his peace and destroyed what he wanted. Their kiss was a lie to cheat her.
He didn’t want her at all.
She could not still her shaking and clung to the pony’s reins.
They entered the yard, and while the Mage fumbled with the pouch on his belt, she struggled from the saddle. Her fingers as clumsy as her feet, she clambered down from Ice’s back. Having no other option, she hitched the bridle to the low branch of a tree. The pony would be safe enough this close to the tower.
Despite Thabit’s mutters, she did not look over to the door as she unhooked the satchel filled with Tab and Cecile’s gifts.
A wedge of light on the rocky ground told her Thabit had managed to open the door. She struggled to lift the heavy saddle from Ice’s back. Her heart ached and she stroked the pony’s cheek. Ice puffed warmth onto her hands and he whickered, lifting his head to nudge her arm.
She limped over to the well, fetched a bucket of water, and left it beside the pony. It would do for now. Tomorrow she would see what could be done for a stable.
The tower door stood open. Thabit had not waited for her, but gone inside.
Should he be as dreadful tomorrow, she’d ride the pony back to the castle and kindness.
She struggled with the straps on the saddle but managed to haul the weight down off Ice’s back. Her heart hammered as she picked up the leather satchel and limped slowly inside into the kitchen.
Thabit sat at the table in the gloom. He drank from a large cup, one rimmed with silver she had not seen him use before. She recognized the scent of hops. He had pushed his hood back. The torchlight caught his face and his features tore at her heart. Gaunt, haggard, his skin dull and ashen, and his eyes remained almost all dark pupils. His hand holding the cup shook, and all her hopes for that night vanished.
She could not lie with him when he made her think of Crispin. She doubted he could climb the stairs to his room, let alone take her to his bed. Though she sensed a kind of danger from him she’d never known before, still she asked, “Shall I help you to bed?”
He lifted his wild-eyed gaze to her. The metal-bound cup landed on the table with a clank. “Surely you shall and lie with me until dawn.”
She froze at his expression. There would be no tenderness in him tonight. Desire snaked around the room, and she moved back a step. Fear churned her stomach.
“What’s wrong? Called your bluff, have I? You’re not willing all of a sudden?”
She fought to still the ache in her heart, and used the sudden flash of anger instead. “You’re worse than drunk, and no, I’m not willing. I doubt I ever will be. I thought you were better than this.” She dumped the satchel on the floor. “You go to your room. Leave me in peace.” She swallowed hard. He wasn’t as Agnes said. Or was he?
“Ha, sharp tonight, Swwwarrow.” His words slurred. The chair slid back as he hauled himself up. His body weaved from side to side and he reached out. He stumbled, grasping her waist hard with one hand and the table with his other.
The smell of the brew he’d finished caught at her senses as he bent to kiss her. Fury blazed through her at the touch of his palm on her breast. She struggled to break his tight embrace, but couldn’t. In desperation, she slapped his face with all her force. The blow echoed from the walls. He didn’t flinch.
He took one deep breath after another before he finally slid his hand down to her waist and released her. She backed off swift. Breathless herself now, she darted a glance around the room to see how close the door might be to her fumbling hand.
“Sorry, I can’t,” he mumbled, and staggered across the room toward the stairs.
“Go sleep it off!” A tide of anger swamped her.
His footsteps on the stairs trod heavy, and twice, loud bumps thumped on the walls. At last, a door creaked open, the hinges squeaked again, and a thud followed.
Had he fallen?
She stood motionless, while images of him with a broken head filled her thoughts, but she wouldn’t go up to see.
No fire burned in the hearth. The one torch gave flickers of light, but too fearful, despondent, and too tired to do anything else, she laid down on the pallet.
Her blanket still hung in the tree from the morning when her hopes had been so high. She huddled in her gown for warmth and bit her lip. All her senses refused to relax in case he returned. Time passed with no sound from above. Her anger ebbed, and she dwelt on her expectations of this night. Tears stung for the loss. Surely, Cassandra couldn’t have been wrong. The beautiful lady had said Thabit would love her. Right now, she could scarce believe Cassandra’s words might be true.
The brightness of dawn glimmered through the small window before she slept.
Chapter 12
The sun shadows showed well past noon, and though he didn’t want to wake her, she should rise.
He’d woken a little earlier, sickened, and his head throbbed still. The effects of the scrying danced around him. “Sparrow, wake up.”
Her eyelids flew open at his briefest touch to her shoulder. Horror gripped his gut, as huge, dark pools of fear stared back at him.
“Oh, no.” He backed off.
She sat up and crossed her arms tight over her breasts. Her expression pierced him sharp as a lance.
“It was the brew. Please, Sparrow, forgive me? I have no memory of our return.”
Gods!
He stepped back from the accusation in her glance. If he had taken her, he didn’t know it. What a waste if he had done so, and probably badly. Even worse, he couldn’t remember the moment he made her his.
The quiver of her chin spoke for her. Whatever he’d done, he’d hurt her. The wave of guilt rose nauseous. He always suffered after the seeing brew. Even now, his senses remained heightened. The fabric of his green robe tingled like fur on his body to entice his flesh to demands of its own. All of him twitched painfully alive. Even her scent tormented him.
“You were horrible last night. I think it would be best if I left and went to the castle.”
I didn’t take her! Did I?
He sat on a stool by the table, poured from the jug, and gulped down a long draught of water. She moved from the bed. The glorious red gown still enhanced all her attractions. If he had taken her, at least he hadn’t torn the thing from her flesh.
“What did I…?” He waited breathless for her reply.
“If you mean did you force me into your bed, the answer is no. If you mean did you sound evil enough to do it, the answer is yes. If you mean did you make me feel like you hated me, the answer is yes. So, I don’t like you very much today.”
She skirted the edge of the table and used the water jug to get a drink.
Relief coursed through him. At least he hadn’t let go completely, but he’d done quite enough to alter their relationship. Like a tear in his spirit, no matter how he tried to mend the situation, her belief in him was damaged for eternity. “I can only say I am sorry. The seeing brew always has a deep effect. Yesterday’s was much stronger than I thought it would be, and lasted longer. Try to forget what I did or said. It wasn’t real.”
His apology sounded pitiful. The kind of excuse he might have made when an inexperienced student was inadequate, and it was no recompense for her distress. His discomfort grew. He should know, even with the brew, what he was doing, and until last night, she seemed happy to believe he did. To have broken such innocent trust in him shamed him in a way that little else had ever done.
Her brown eyes remained full of hurt, and she sniffed. She grabbed the blue tunic and fled out
of the room. He didn’t follow, but stood, and his stomach griped with hunger. He needed food and cut slice after slice of what remained of the bread.
She didn’t come back until he had spread the butter and honey. He knew from her pale face and red eyes she’d cried, and guilt broke over him again. He must find some way to make amends.
The multicolored scarf did not hang around her waist. This was the first day since he had given it to her she had chosen not to wear it. Dressed in his old blue tunic, she looked less than her years, fragile as a spring flower, and far too young for him. He needed to take her mind from last night, and his own, too.
How to do it?
“Shall we sit in the sun to eat?” Each muscle in his body ached, but he took the plate outside, and she followed.
He lowered himself to the soft turf beside the well, glimpsing the white pony tethered to a tree close to the tower. So, that was real. He had thought the image of her on a white pony was part of the brew-induced visions. Last night, he had been grateful such a lovely image should replace the horrors before. The memory of such pain and death nibbled at the edges of his conscious mind. The delight of her gleaming like a pearl remained a temptation fit to alleviate it.
This was much harder than he’d ever imagined. Why must he desire her?
True, the nobility of three kingdoms were wedded and bedded at her age, but she was not a noble. He had no right to see her in such a way.
What the red gown revealed had stolen the last of his senses. Today, he would put a stop to it.
The sunlight was too bright.
He had hurt her, and could not set things right without hurting her more. Putting the plate of bread and honey on the grass, he rested, and she took the pony water.
She stroked the pony’s pale sides and whispered to it, her head close to the twitching ears. Her anger simmered below the surface. So hot her distress, the sensation came close to a physical manifestation. The pony, clever and lucky little beast, knew it wasn’t for him. Cassandra must believe Nin worthy of her gift.
Had he so misread the girl’s abilities?
He sighed and wished for yesterday morning, for then he’d have the chance to kiss her again. The need took his hunger. His desire to have her in his arms lured him more than bread. He shoved the thought away. Before any talk with her, he must eat.
The light-headed, dream state still hovered about him, and this concentration on her must be part of it.
“Don’t you want breakfast?” he called over, but she barely glanced back. She did leave the pony and came to sit a little way off with the large plate between them.
He took a slice of the bread and bit into the thick spread butter and honey, savoring the sweetness he needed. His energy levels so low, he couldn’t even think of the glamour to disguise her charms. And what was the point? He knew it wasn’t real and knew the loveliness beneath. To attempt a glamour would be a waste of effort and unlikely to change a thing.
She took a piece of bread and swiveled around, her head turned away from him. At least he could admire the tousled curls down her slender back. Young she might be, but she’d been taught the right lessons to make him suffer from her displeasure.
He finished the slice of bread, his stomach joyful with food inside it. Maybe he’d fasted too long before taking the seeing brew. The mushrooms had been much stronger than he’d anticipated, perhaps due to the season. He would have to experiment further with them.
The bread sat in her hand, scarce touched, and she stared into the distance.
“Sparrow, don’t tell me you don’t like honey? I understand you don’t like me, but not the honey.”
She faced him, eyes narrowed, and the desire to see her smile ripped the day apart.
“You made me afraid in a way I never have been before, not even when they sent me from the village. I thought you were better than everyone else, but you’re not. You’re just as stupid and stubborn and nasty as anyone in the village. I want to go to the castle. I don’t want to stay here with you, not anymore.”
He inched forward, moving the plate so he could edge closer to her. His longing to hold her grew stronger with each word she spoke.
Damn the brew.
“I’m sure you are right. We should have stayed at the castle last night. I was foolish to refuse the lady’s invitation. When I scry again, next time, we will stay for the night. You will be safe when I am”—he sighed—“not in control. I can offer no more. If I use the seeing brew in the future, we will stay at the castle until it has cleared.”
“You promise?” She dropped her bread to the turf. It landed honey side up.
He edged nearer to her. She gazed up to him. A rush of desire swamped everything else. Despite his determination she should only be a pupil, it was yesterday morning all over again. The need to hold her, kiss and caress her, gnawed in a savage demand, and all the turmoil churned with the morning’s healthy dose of guilt. “I promise. I am sorry I am not what you may hope. I am only human.”
She gave a little murmur followed by a sniff, and without thought, he slipped his arm around her. Her sweet fragrance swept over his senses, and he pulled her closer.
This was impossible.
When he stroked her hair, she didn’t pull away. “Sparrow, whatever happens, I will never make you cry again. I swear it.”
The little smile she gave carved a deep gouge through his heart. She could write her name there if she wished.
Her hands slid around the back of his neck, and her mouth, sweet as honey, covered his.
The sun blazed above him, for she had pushed him back, her tongue flickering over his, warm and butterfly soft. Lost in her scent, his earlier noble intentions flew like a soap bubble into the afternoon light.
He stroked her back, down the long length of her silken hair, and cupped her buttocks to pull her closer, tight to him. The need for her swelled and pulsed hot against his robe.
The little gasp she gave as he released her lips took him close to the edge of restraint. He pushed hard up to her.
Tremors ran through her body.
If he didn’t stop now, he’d be between her thighs and nothing would prevent him having her. The earth could shake, the skies shatter, but she would be his.
His breath swift and teeth gritted, he pulled away from her embrace. “No more. I made an oath, Nin. I swore I’d teach you, and this isn’t what you’re meant to be learning.”
“See, you really don’t like me, do you?”
Every ounce of his self-control fought in the effort not to kiss her in the way he longed to, deep and full of the passion only she dragged out of him.
“Sit up and don’t pout. I can’t bear it. Listen, and listen well. I like you very much. I am close to…” He couldn’t go on. The silence and her despondent expression forced him to try. “I want you. But, Nin, this is not the right time for such things. You need to find out who you are, to gain the skills you should have, and become the person you should be. I have sworn you are going be my student. I will teach you to read and write so you are ready for further study, and after Samhain, you will go to Cassandra to delve deeper into the arts.”
She reached for his hand and her eyes watered. If she wept now her tears would break his resolve. He had to stop those tears spilling from where they beaded at the edge of her lashes.
“When the snows have fallen twice, if you will it, I will bring you back here, and if you wish, you—”
“Will be yours.” She finished the sentence for him.
Her tears hovered, and she entranced the soul out of him. The swell of her breasts rose and fell with each deep breath, and he could do nothing to stop his spirit mingling with hers. No logic could impede her command.
“If you wish it, but I want you to have learned enough to make an informed decision.”
“You swear it? If you do, I’ll believe you and I’ll learn swift. I promise.”
He cupped her chin in his hands and gent
ly kissed her enticing lips, smooth and soft they flowed under his.
What had Cassandra said? If you can’t keep your hands off her… Well, today proved he couldn’t, even though Nin had woken angry and hurt. Would she return to him when the snows had fallen twice? Would he be sane by then? Would she still want him?
He needed to do something, and fast, to dislodge this sensual need between them. “We should use what’s left of the day to make a stable for your pony. Will you help me? What’s his name?”
She smiled, her hand resting warm in his. “Yes, and he’s called Ice because he is white and smooth.”
“Hmm, if you say so. We’ll get a few good-sized logs and build a bit of a lean-to for the summer. I’ll plan a sturdier structure for the winter.”
She nodded.
“Now, eat your bread and honey. Once we have finished breakfast, we will go to work.”
She took another slice, and he ate three more.
When the sun shadows dimmed through the trees at the tail end of the afternoon, their combined efforts meant the lean-to stood ready for her pony. She had remained silent after the first two logs he cut slid perfectly into place. Her refusal to believe he used no magic only made him laugh.
Nin settled Ice inside, having pulled lots of grass for the beast who looked happy enough.
She walked with him to the forest pool to wash off the afternoon’s grime.
He waited for her to go into the water first. She swam a ways off before he stripped and plunged beneath the dark surface. Glad of the cool water for more than one reason, he swam to the deepest part of the pool. Since his work last night, or perhaps because of her kisses, his body remained tense as a bowstring. He eased the muscles in his shoulders.
He would not scry again for a while. Both he and Lord Farel needed time to understand what the visions might mean. He needed to discover the weapon the vision predicted and ought to spend several days in pure meditation and tranquility. Perhaps, after further study, he might find a way to control his desire for his apprentice.
Loud splashes told him she swam, and fast. Tomorrow he would begin working with her as his student. Gods help him, he’d try to keep his desire from interrupting her studies.
