“You must wait here.”
Ragni started to push past her. “I want to see her.” Rien blocked his way. “The work that Valender and Treskin do is delicate. Do not interrupt them.”
Ragni glared at the Elf, willing her to step aside. Her expression remained calm as she returned his gaze.
He’d have to lift her bodily out of his way to get in there. Baldur’s Balls! He had just enough sense left not to lay hands on her. He nodded with one stiff jerk of his head.
Rien smiled softly. “Valender is very skilled,” she said, then left them standing in the hall.
Ragni turned toward the doorway and stared at the thick greenish-gray curtain. Che’veyo’s voice droned on, exhorting balance and harmony, petitioning the spirits of light and health in multiples of five.
Why does he get to be in there? But Ragni knew why. His heart was too knotted to even use his Talent, let alone essay a ritual Healing. Che’veyo could actually help. Che’veyo wouldn’t be bouncing off the trunks and branches of the tree walls. He didn’t like it, but he understood.
He didn’t want to understand. He wanted to be in there with her, to touch her, as if by holding her hand he could somehow pull her back to him.
“Ragni?” Celia put a hand on his arm, turning him away from the door and guiding him down onto one of several large pillows that hadn’t been there before. He felt nothing from her, despite her touch. An Elf was walking away.
“She’s done this sort of thing before. She’ll be all right.”
He didn’t want to hear any platitudes. “You don’t know that,” he snarled.
Celia said nothing.
He stood up and paced. “She doesn’t deserve this. I don’t care if her magic is unsanctioned; she was trying to help us. Surely the gods know that!” He looked down at Celia. “What did she see? What happened? I couldn’t see the bowl.”
Celia wrapped her arms around her knees. “It showed a large natural cavern. There was fighting. You and Che’veyo were over to one side doing something. There was an Elf with a silver staff, too, and she was swinging it around.”
“But what happened to Saeun? Why did she collapse?”
“I’m sorry, that’s all I remember. But I saw enough to be able to Find the cavern. Some of the rock formations were quite distinctive.”
“You can remember the rocks, but you don’t know what happened to Saeun?”
Celia opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again.
Ragni paced to where the hall bent sharply to the left and back again. He ran a hand over his face. He was being an ass.
He came back and sat down next to her. “I’m sorry.”
She linked her arm with his, giving it a squeeze. “I know.”
His emotions were still high, but her touch let him sense enough. She meant it. She was full of compassion and concern. He put his hand over hers. I hope Dahl knows what a treasure he has.
They sat quietly, waiting, only Che’veyo’s soft words filling the silence. There was nothing to do but think, and wait.
He didn’t want to think. There were too many dire outcomes possible, and his fear dredged up every one of them. Celia leaned against him and he put his arm around her. “You should go rest,” he said. “You’ve only just recovered yourself.”
She shook her head. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Please. I can only worry about one woman at a time.”
Something about that amused Celia, but she didn’t share the joke with him.
“I’ll be all right,” he added.
The chanting stopped. Alarm spiked Ragni’s heart in the unexpected silence.
Valender lifted the moss curtain and stepped out. “She’s sleeping now. All is well.”
Ragni didn’t remember getting to his feet. “Are you sure?”
“Her spirit is in balance, her heart whole,” Che’veyo said, coming from the room.
Treskin followed him out into the hall. He looked tired. “She’s had a long journey, but she won’t remember it. Let her sleep.” He walked away.
“You may stay with her if you wish, but let her rest,” Valender said. “Lady Celia, may I escort you to your room?”
Celia’s grin almost washed the fatigue from her eyes. She gave Ragni a quick hug and kissed his cheek. “I told you she’d be okay.” Then she left with the others.
Ragni slipped beneath the curtain into Saeun’s room. She lay in a nest of soft pillows, embraced by the roots of a great tree. For a long time he just stood and stared. Her dark lashes looked stark against her pale skin, her normally rosy lips bled of color. Eventually he retrieved a pillow from the hallway and sat beside her. The covers were pulled up nearly to her chin. One bare arm lay out on the covers. He took her hand in both of his and held it against his lips, heedless of the tears that ran down his cheeks.
They knew where to find the Dark Elves now. Celia had said she could Find her way there. As if either Fender or I will let her risk herself and Dahleven’s heir. None of the women would go. Saeun had given them the information they needed. But at what cost?
Ragni watched Saeun’s chest rise and fall in steady rhythm under the coverlet. Valender had assured him that she would be well when she woke, that she merely slept now, regaining her strength.
She looks so fragile.
He wanted to shake her awake. To see with his own eyes, hear with his own ears, to know she was all right. Instead, he clasped her hand and called on Baldur and Freyr and Freya to restore her strength.
He could do a Great Healing. He’d attempt it if she didn’t wake soon, regardless of the risk. Valender may have assured him that she would be fine, but he was an Elf, after all. Saeun might trust them, but he wasn’t sure he could. Not with her life. Che’veyo had said the same, but the Shaman hadn’t done much for Neven.
He lay her hand down gently on the coverlet, then bowed his head, pushing his fingers into his hair.
How long had it been? How long since her vision had felled her? He knew firsthand how taxing, how dangerous, working magic could be. He shouldn’t have let her do it. He closed his eyes.
And awoke, blinking.
He was bent over, his face resting next to Saeun’s hand on the bed. He straightened and peered at her. She still slept. But perhaps there was a bit more color in her cheeks.
“Good eve, my lord.”
Ragni jerked his head around. Sitting there at the foot of the bed, plain as pudding, was an old man. A mortal, if he judged aright. Ragni felt the man’s general good will.
“Good eve. Is it still evening? How long did I sleep?”
“Well, in fact, my lord, it’s well into night. Can’t say as how long you been a sleeping, since you was aslumber when I come in, and that was some two candlemarks ago. Or so I’d guess, since the Elves don’t use candles.”
Ragni shook his head, his mouth twisting in a grim smile. Asleep on watch. Dahleven would have my ears.
“I hope you don’t mind me sitting here with your lady. She’s a sweet lass, and I wanted to keep my eye on her, should she wake and need a bit of something or other.”
“The two of you have met, then.” Ragni winced inwardly. Of course they’ve met. Why else would he be here? He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to wake up.
“Aye. She’s a fine girl you’ve got there. You should take her to wife.”
Ragni raised his brows, startled at the man’s plain speech. The man may have called him “my lord,” but he was clearly uninhibited by their difference in rank. “I would like nothing better, but matters are rather complicated.”
“Aye, she told me somewhat about her troubles. She needs a man’s protection and guidance, my lord.”
Ragni couldn’t help but smile at the earnest concern he felt coming from the old man. “Yes, she does. But if she told her troubles to you, then you know why I can’t marry her.”
The man frowned. “She said you was a noble of high standing, my lord. Can you not protect her from that man who means to harm her?”
Ragni shook his head, wishing that it were as simple as that. “It occurs to me that we haven’t introduced ourselves. You are …?”
“My pardon, my lord. I’m Grov. Blacksmith to the village Tokk until two moons ago.” Then he added somewhat shamefacedly, “Or rather I lived there. I hadn’t smithied much for a year or more. My hands were too twisted.” He held up his two strong looking hands.
Ragni grasped the old man’s wrist in greeting. Grov’s grip was strong enough now. Had the Elves done that? “I’m pleased to meet you, Smith Grov, and glad to know that Saeun has such a steadfast friend. I am Lord Ragnar, second son to Kon Neven.”
Grov stiffened, then bobbed his head in a country obeisance. “My pardon, my lord, if I spoke out of turn.” He looked Ragni sharply in the eyes. “But if you are so high, then surely you can protect her.”
“Possibly. But Saeun did break the law. And if law is to have any power, then even a Kon’s son must be bound by it.” He sounded so noble. We won’t talk about the fact that I had planned to defy the law and help her escape.
“Then change the law!”
Ragni smiled. “Perhaps in time I will. But at the moment, I am second to the man who is charged with enforcing it: Father Wirmund, the Overprest of Baldur. And he enjoys enforcing the law. Very much.” Too much.
Grov’s brows drew together in a frown. “You are in a tight spot, then.”
Ragni was silent, watching the older man consider the situation. Ragni felt Grov’s stubborn determination, and his flash of satisfaction.
The smith’s brows lifted. “Then stay here. The Elves don’t care about mortal laws.”
The sharp tug of temptation startled Ragni with its intensity. Could it really be so easy? To live with Saeun without worry. To hold her in his arms every night, and wake to her smile every morning. To someday feel their child growing in her, to shelter them both in his embrace. It was more than he’d let himself hope for.
It was more than he could have. The truth of it grated like a millstone grinding his heart.
He shook his head. “I cannot. I am foresworn. Betrothed to another. And there are many who depend on me.” He thought of Dahl, fighting a siege, dealing with Wirmund, facing a broken alliance with Magnus if he ran away with Saeun. Not to mention all of Nuvinland needing a voice of moderation and reason among Baldur’s priests. Wirmund wouldn’t live forever, and Vali, the Overprest’s new third, was an ambitious sycophant who would cheerfully carry out Wirmund’s bitter vision. He forced a smile. “Privilege and responsibility are a mated pair, I’m afraid. I cannot please myself in this, not even to have Saeun.”
Ragni felt the sorrow that rose in Grov and shut it out. It was too much to bear along with his own.
“I’m sorry, my lord. I’m just a blacksmith, but I understand honor. I shouldn’t have poked my nose into your business. I grieve for you.” Grov shook his head. “I couldn’t choose as you have. Nothing could have kept me from my Anna.”
“Grov?” Saeun’s voice was thick with sleep.
“Now see what I’ve done.” The old blacksmith moved like a much younger man as he knelt beside the bed across from Ragni. “Aye, it’s me. I’m sorry, I’ve gone and wakened you with my blabbering. Are you all right?”
*
Saeun smiled and blinked the sleep from her eyes. Grov’s country manner was a comfort, but why was he here? “I’m fine. Why the fuss?”
“Don’t you remember?” It was Ragni’s voice.
Ragni? Saeun turned to look at him, and memory rushed back. “You’re here!”
“Where else would I be?”
Saeun just stared at him, savoring the sight of his crooked smile, the twinkle of his blue-gray eyes. His beard, always carefully trimmed, was starting to get shaggy and his hair was in disarray.
“Well, I’ll just be taking myself off, then,” Grov said, standing.
With an effort, Saeun pulled her gaze away from Ragni. “Oh, no! You don’t have to go.”
Grov just grinned and gave her shoulder a little pat. “Aye, my lady, I do.” He nodded a bow to Ragni and they exchanged a mysterious look. “My lord. I wish you well.” Then he slipped beneath the moss and was gone.
Her attention returned to Ragni. He was here, by her side, smiling down at her. His thumb caressed the back of her hand. The world felt whole and right again. Almost.
“I shouldn’t feel so happy with so much trouble facing us, but I can’t help it,” she said, smiling. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
Ragni nodded and squeezed her hand. “I thought you were dead. Celia couldn’t Find you. And when you collapsed after I’d just found you again…” He blinked hard and glanced away.
Saeun pulled her other arm from beneath the sheets and reached up to turn his face back toward hers. She was naked beneath the covers and wondered for a fleeting moment who had undressed her. “It’s all right. I’m fine.”
Ragni smiled and drew her hand up to his lips, kissing the palm. A trill of pleasure spread warmth through her chest. She smiled wider and pulled him down into a kiss. She could tell he was trying to hold back and keep the kiss gentle. She didn’t want gentle. She felt fine. Better than fine. She’d thought she would never again have Ragni in her bed, and now he was here, in her arms.
I might never again. They might never have another chance to make love. She could never return to Quartzholm, and that was where Ragni belonged. It was harder, knowing that this was probably the last time.
She pushed the thought away, but a painful residue of it lingered, lending a greater urgency to her kiss.
Ragni pulled back, searched her face. “Saeun? Are you sure?”
“Yes. Can’t you tell?”
“You just woke up. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. Please. I need to feel your arms around me. Unless…” Unless it was something else that stopped him.
“What?”
“You’re betrothed now. Perhaps you don’t want to upset Utta?”
Ragni laughed. “Trust me. This won’t upset her.”
Saeun sighed. “Then come here,” she said, lifting the covers and inviting him with what lay beneath.
*
Ragni groaned as the erection her kiss inspired strained against his trews. Down, boy. Freyr and Freya, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. He felt no hesitation in her, just a frisson of anxiety—and passion. His blood thrummed. He leaned forward to kiss her again. His hands found their way to her lush curves as he trailed little kisses along her jaw, licked the fullness of her lips, dropped a tiny peck on her nose. Saeun’s hands were on him too, moving restlessly, stroking his back, his buttocks, running her fingers through his hair. He started to ease away so he could divest himself of his clothes. He hungered for the feel of her against his skin. She pulled him back and her tongue sought his. He felt her desire flare, inciting his own. Gods! He felt like it might burst from under his skin.
Saeun’s hands tugged at his tunic. “Too many clothes,” she complained.
Ragni gasped out a laugh. “I know. Let me go for just a moment, dear heart. I promise I’ll come back.” Oh, yes, I most certainly will.
She sat up as he stood. Shadows caressed her breasts, cast by the dim light of the glow globes. His fingers stilled on his laces. Her nipples were already peaked. His palms itched to feel them.
Clothes, fool.
He shucked his tunic, boots, shirt, and trews faster than a boy eager for his first summer swim.
Somewhere he found the self-control not to pounce on her. He eased between the sheets next to her, trying to employ at least a fraction of his skill. He wanted to take his time, to please her, but desire was singing through Saeun, and when she pulled him over her, all his supposed finesse vanished.
She was open for him, and when he entered her he felt her flash of satisfaction, echoed by his own. It felt like coming home. He wanted this, but fulfilling Saeun’s desire meant more.
He began to move and her hunger
doubled. He bent his head to her breast, drawing her nipple into his mouth, savoring the taste of her, and the feel of her aroused flesh against his tongue. She made soft needy sounds as her hands fluttered over his back.
He couldn’t tell where her desire began and his ended. Every inch of his skin was on fire, and only Saeun could quench it. He needed her, needed to be in her, deeper, deeper. Saeun wrapped herself around him, arched her neck. Finesse was not what she wanted now. It was not what he gave her.
He felt her tension mount, her yearning toward completion. Her heat grew, hot and tight and hungry. “Please, please, please,” she gasped. His answer was hard and quick. A moment later she spasmed and cried out, and he fell too, shouting along with her. He didn’t care who heard; all thoughts, all emotion submerged in molten pleasure and white hot joy as he poured himself into her.
She was still shuddering in reaction when he came back to himself. She had no coherent emotions, just a quivering muddle of happy pleasure. He grinned. That was fine with him. He took a little more of his weight from her, moving within her as he did. She tightened and whimpered. He did it again with the same result.
“Ragni!”
“Saeun.” He kissed her eyelids, her nose, her mouth. Then he teased her again.
“Aren’t you …tired?” she gasped.
“No. You?” He made her twitch again.
Her answer was to push him over onto his back. Then she rode him until rapturous lightning struck him blind, and they collapsed in languid bliss.
Saeun still lay across his chest when a semblance of thought began to return. Is it possible to feel such ecstasy, and live?
Saeun began to surface, and he enjoyed her feeling of lazy contentment—until anxiety and an aching resignation overtook it. “Did Lord Kaeron say when we’d leave?” she asked.
Baldur’s Balls. He didn’t want to think about that now. “Soon. But we won’t be going anywhere. You’re staying here.”
“But my vision showed—”
“All the more reason for you to stay behind.” Ragni rubbed her back. “I won’t risk you.”
FORBIDDEN TALENTS Page 26
