“You have not told me what you mean to put up against that prize,” Rhiannon said, smiling with an effort.
His dark brows rose. For several moments Rhiannon felt almost faint at the possibility of what he might offer. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or indignant at the prize he did offer.
“Why, I will give you one kiss, freely given, if you should best me!” he said with a chuckle, his eyes fairly dancing now with such mischief Rhiannon had the feeling he knew very well what had been running through her mind while she waited for him to offer his ‘prize’.
The men found that even more uproariously funny.
As charmed as she was by his teasing, Rhiannon wasn’t amused. “I had something else in mind,” she murmured.
He gave her a look that had the men making wolf whistles and cat calls. She glared at him, feeling her cheeks flamed again. “Not what you’re thinking, obviously,” she snapped.
A faint grin curled his lips. “But then you don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“I can guess,” she responded tartly. As irritated as she was for his risqué innuendo, she wasn’t altogether displeased that his mind seemed to be wandering down that path. But then, he might be doing it to deliberately mislead the men, she reminded herself, since his objective seemed to be to divert them from their own troubles.
That possibility made her uncomfortable with the idea of demanding to be freed as his part of the wager--from sharing a room with him at the very least. It was bound to put a damper on the jovial atmosphere.
She would have preferred, of course, that their amusement wasn’t directed at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to ruin their enjoyment whatever her discomfort. “You will grant me one boon, of my choice--if I win.”
He distrusted that. His smile did not waver, but his gaze became far more penetrating. “Granted--if you win.”
“Without knowing what it is?”
He shrugged. “I do not expect to lose.”
Rhiannon gave him a piercing look at that, wondering if he would cheat if necessary. Somehow, however, she did not believe it of him. Everything she had learned about him seemed to indicate that he was a man of honor.
She was on edge regardless and wondered what had possessed her to agree to the wager. The idea of kissing Daigon made her breathless in so many ways that she felt faintly dizzy.
Trying to calm her nerves, she turned to watch the men scurrying about to set up for the ‘contest’. When they’d set the targets and paced off the distances agreed upon, they gathered on the sidelines, jesting with each other about how far they should pull back for safety’s sake when the princess took her turn.
She smiled thinly, trying to take the teasing in good part, although she found it highly irritating.
Daigon bowed, indicating that she was to go first. She looked at him unhappily, so nervous by now she wondered if she could hit the target at all. Since there seemed no hope for it, she notched the arrow and focused, steadying her breathing with an effort. Despite her shakiness, she not only managed to hit the target, the arrow pierced the edge of the inner ring.
A sense of relief and pride washed through her when the men, after a stunned moment of silence, applauded her enthusiastically. Curtseying for them, she turned to look at Daigon expectantly.
“You are a worthy opponent,” Daigon said, smiling with genuine warmth.
The praise, and the smile that went with it went a long way toward easing Rhiannon’s nervousness. “Thank you.”
Notching his arrow, Daigon took aim and released the shaft. It flew straight and true, burrowing into the target virtually on top of hers. Captain Martunae and two seconds stepped forward to study the shots and finally announced that Daigon had taken the advantage by a hair’s breadth.
Rhiannon frowned in disappointment, but she felt more confident now, less nervous as she and Daigon moved back to the next line. The men, thankfully, were more cooperative, holding silent as she took aim and fired her arrow into the air. Her second arrow landed almost in the center of the target and the men cheered louder and longer. When they had finally begun to calm down, Daigon stepped up to the line and fired his second arrow. As before, his arrow struck the target almost directly beside hers, but slightly closer to the center.
Rhiannon eyed him suspiciously.
He gave her a look all innocence.
Grinding her teeth, Rhiannon grasped her skirts and marched to the next line back.
Chuckling, Daigon followed.
Rhiannon’s third arrow embedded itself into the target almost beside the first. Dismay and dread filled her as Daigon took her place and fired his own. It landed dead center.
He was proclaimed the indisputable winner of the contest and the men cheered him with more enthusiasm than they had her and began to chant for her to pay the forfeit. Rhiannon reddened. Stalking toward him in irritation, she went up on her tiptoes and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek.
He caught her around the waist before she could escape. “That was not the agreed upon forfeit.”
Rhiannon lifted her brows. “Of course it was--one kiss, freely given. You did not specify what type of kiss or where to plant it.”
His eyes narrowed, but his gaze was more speculative than annoyed. “You stuck to the letter of the wager, then, but not the spirit.”
She gave him a look. “And you did?”
The annoyance in his eyes became more pronounced at the accusation. He released her. She’d just gathered her skirts to flounce off when she heard a gasp behind her. The sound halted her in her tracks. When she turned she saw that everyone was focused on the target--and that Daigon had just loosed an arrow that had split one of those protruding from the contest. In swift succession, he split three others. “That is skill,” he said grimly when she met his gaze.
Before she could respond, he dropped his bow to the ground. Pulling an arrow from his quiver, he tossed it toward the target like a spear. The shaft shot straight toward the target and then abruptly executed a 90 degree angle and shot skyward. Above their heads, the arrow performed a series of loop de loops, and then shot downward once more, plowing into the dead center of the target. “That,” he said, “is magic.”
Chapter Ten
Any reservations Rhiannon had that it was purely her imagination that the sympathies of the men had shifted to Daigon on the ‘dueling’ field vanished when she presented herself for supper. Everyone was as polite as could be, but she could see from the expressions of those she passed that they’d condemned her unsportsmanlike behavior.
She’d been embarrassed and angry about his display at the time. She’d resented the fact that he’d made it so abundantly clear to everyone that any ‘cheating’ he’d done was to handicap his skills to keep her from feeling so inadequate and that he was a far better marksman than she could ever hope to be.
It had made her feel very mean spirited and she’d resented that, too.
Later, she’d realized that it was her accusation that had goaded him into showing her how wrong she was and that he was probably more angry that he’d let his temper get the upper hand than he was at her for her behavior.
Taking the seat reserved for her at the high table, Rhiannon sighed inwardly. She couldn’t even summon resentment. After Daigon had stalked off and left her standing in the keep, she had felt pretty mean spirited without any help from anyone else. Their feelings on the matter only made it that much worse.
After sending a few glances in Daigon’s direction and studying his carefully neutral expression, she decided to concentrate on her meal. It might have been sawdust for all she tasted of it, or enjoyed it.
She would have to apologize, she decided. It wasn’t enough to simply act contrite, she’d accused him of cheating at a contest of skills. It didn’t matter that she’d been subtle about it. She’d left him in no doubt of what she’d meant, and since she had goaded him in to that display, the men would also have surmised that she’d accused him of cheating.
T
hat was probably the root of their condemnation--not her unsportsmanlike behavior, though she didn’t doubt they had a poor opinion of that, too.
She should never have put herself in such a position to start with, but, in all truth, she knew very well she hadn’t tried all that hard to avoid it. She’d been titillated at the prospect of kissing Daigon and having an excuse to do it. And while she was being honest, she knew it had been cowardice that had prompted her accusation. She’d known he hadn’t cheated. She’d just been embarrassed at being faced with the results of the temptation she hadn’t been able to resist.
For once she didn’t have to work at pretending she had little appetite. She was picking at her food absently when a commotion at the back of the room near the doors drew everyone’s attention. Little by little, the room fell silent as the messenger pushed his way toward the high table and bent low to speak with Daigon. Daigon frowned, his lips tightening. Finally, he nodded.
“Inform Captain Bryon that he’s to clean the muck of the trail off and present himself as soon as possible.”
The messenger bowed and withdrew, leaving the great room as hastily as he’d entered it.
A low buzz began in the room as everyone speculated on the meaning of the interruption. Rhiannon lost what little interest she’d had in her food and had difficulty maintaining even a pretense of eating while she waited to see if Captain Bryon would come at once.
Perhaps ten minutes passed and the sounds within the hall were rapidly returning to normal when another commotion at the rear of the great room drew everyone’s attention. Captain Bryon, looking gray with fatigue, his hair slicked back on his head from a quick bath, strode across the room and bowed low before the high table. “Sire!”
“You have news?”
Captain Bryon lifted his head. “Aye.”
Daigon’s eyes narrowed as he studied the man. Finally, he rose from his seat. “We will withdraw so that you can give me a full report,” he said.
Relief passed across Captain Bryon’s face, but also fear. Nodding, he rose to follow Daigon from the room. Rhiannon discovered when she looked up at Daigon that he was holding his hand out to her. Surprised, she laid her palm in his without even considering if she wanted to go with him, or why he had decided to include her.
They’d reached the corridor leading to the reception chamber before it occurred to her that she might have reason to fear. A coldness washed over her. When Daigon gently squeezed her hand, she looked up at him. There was nothing in his expression, but it occurred to her after a moment that he’d intended the tightening on her hand as reassurance and she managed a faint smile.
Once they had settled themselves in the receiving chamber, Captain Bryon knelt before Daigon. “As I had feared, Sire, Gerard and his men had crossed the border before we could catch up to them. He has sought sanctuary in Rottham. I left three men to wait and watch in case they returned and took two with me into Rottham. We had no trouble following him as far as Rotthamburg, where King Saliem’s palace lies. Once we reached the city, however, we could find no news of him at all at first. We mingled with the townsfolk, however, and learned that he had stopped to petition the king’s aid. King Saliem refused it, but allowed him refuge.
“Almost a week passed before we discovered where he was staying, and only then because word had begun to circulate that he was hiring mercenaries. I sent Lark, one of Captain Martunae’s men, to sign up and learn what he could since I would have been recognized.
“From what Lark learned, there can be little doubt that Gerard managed to cross the border with the jewels, for he has been to no lenders and the king had refused to offer anything more than shelter.”
Captain Bryon paused and lifted his head. “He has sent men to secure the services of the Wizard Climaus.”
Rhiannon felt a pain stab into her chest at that, for the Wizard Climaus was renowned as one of the most powerful wizards of all. When she glanced fearfully at Daigon, however, she saw that he was merely looking at Captain Bryon with interest, his dark brows raised as if in polite surprise. “And what is the word on that?”
Captain Bryon reddened. “We did not stay to hear more. I thought that you would want to know so that you could prepare to fight the army being raised against you. I was recognized as we left, however, and we were ambushed near the border. Two men lost their lives. Of the others, two more most likely will not last the night.”
Daigon’s lips tightened. “I will see them myself. Ordinarily, I do not claim much skill as a healer, but I can hardly do worse than Aradan’s resident healer, Mikla.”
Captain Bryon nodded, looking relieved, but he did not rise. “They are good men.”
“You had something else to add?” Daigon asked when Captain Bryon did not rise at once.
The captain cleared his throat. “I--regret that I failed you once again, Sire.”
Daigon propped an arm on the arm of the throne, dropping his chin to his hand. “You consider your mission a failure?”
Captain Bryon blinked, looking as if he feared the warlock was toying with him. “I failed to retrieve the jewels as commanded.”
Daigon nodded. “But then we can neither of us be entirely certain that he had them with him.”
Captain Bryon frowned, thinking that over. “You think that he had hidden the jewels before?”
Daigon shrugged. “He did not strike me as a man who trusted overmuch--quite possibly for very good reason since he was not a well loved king from what I understand. I do not say it is so, only that the possibility exists and that I can not pass judgment when I do not have all the facts. I will reserve judgment. If it transpires that the news you have brought to me is reasonably accurate, then I will consider that you did just as you should have.”
The captain looked so relieved that he looked almost faint. When Daigon waved a hand in dismissal, he rose shakily and retreated from the room.
Rhiannon watched his departure with a good deal of dread. Fear had spread icy fingers through her and it took an effort to still the trembling that seemed to have begun in her belly and radiated outward. She saw when she looked at Daigon at last that he was studying her. “What will you do, my lord?”
He looked surprised that she would ask. “Prepare for war.”
With that, he rose from his seat and held his hand out to her. She took it, allowing him to help her to her feet. “You tremble,” he observed.
She was having difficulty keeping her teeth from rattling together. “Do you… do you know the Wizard Climaus?” she managed to ask.
He lifted his brows. “I can not say that I do.”
Rhiannon bit her lip. “He is renowned as the most powerful wizard of all.”
“Truly?” Daigon asked with little interest, leading her from the receiving chamber. “Then I should certainly have heard of him.”
Rhiannon stopped when they’d reached the corridor and she saw that he would leave her there. “Do you think that he will not come then?” she asked a little hopefully.
Daigon shrugged. “I’ve no idea, my dear.”
Rhiannon stood where she was, watching until Daigon had disappeared down the corridor--to check on the wounded men, she supposed. Finally, she turned and, ignoring the guards who fell into step behind her, headed for the king’s apartments. She was almost tempted to rejoin the folk in the great hall, for she wasn’t certain she wanted to be alone with her thoughts. A very little consideration convinced her, however, that it was doubtful the noise of the hall would divert her and would likely only make matters worse since she would have to pretend to be undisturbed by the news Captain Bryon had brought.
She settled on a couch and tried to focus on her needle, but after stabbing herself a half a dozen times, flung the needlework down and rose to pace. Her thoughts were chaotic and she could bring no order to them at all. Finally, she left the room and moved out onto the balcony to stare into the dark night. The cool night air chilled her, but it was no colder than her fear.
After a time it
occurred to her that she should be elated to know that her uncle would be returning to take the kingdom, and thus free her, as well. She had every reason to be fearful, regardless. A war was brewing, perhaps one that would encompass the entire kingdom this time, and not merely the main keep, Castle Aradan. Men, women and children died or were maimed, were left homeless and starving in these wars the men fought for power. Her own life was in as much danger as anyone else’s, perhaps more because she was at the heart of the dispute.
She found that she was far more fearful of the news of the wizard, however, and it did not take long to figure out why.
She was afraid for Daigon, not for herself.
Daigon didn’t understand the threat to him. He couldn’t when he knew nothing about the wizard Captain Bryon had spoken of. If it came to that, she knew very little herself--only what she had heard, but she feared he was too powerful for Daigon to be a match for him let alone win any contest between the two.
If it had been otherwise, she would still have been anxious, but not nearly so fearful, for she knew that Daigon was a powerful warlock, and also that he was a warrior of considerable skill. Under ordinary circumstances, she would have felt that he would almost certainly be victorious over any army her uncle might raise, but there was nothing ordinary about the possibility of having to face the Wizard Climaus.
The chill of the evening and her thoughts finally drove Rhiannon inside once more. Feeling curiously drained, she settled on the couch with her needlework and found, once she’d focused on it for a time, that her nerves had ceased to jump and her chaotic thoughts calmed.
It occurred to her then that she had been, and still was, overly concerned about the welfare of a man who was her enemy. She couldn’t delude herself that it was personal fear that had upset her so, and it was certainly not anxiety on her uncle’s behalf.
Unwilling to examine her feelings too closely, she dismissed them with an effort and returned to worrying over the possibility that her uncle’s plans would come to fruition. She did not doubt his determination, but did he actually have sufficient funds to hire an army of the size that he would need? Or had he, despite what Captain Bryon had heard, managed to convince King Saliem to aid him? And what of the Wizard Climaus? What might Gerard offer him that would interest him in helping? The possibility of pitting his powers against a potential rival in the art of magic?
The Warlock Page 10
