Warriors Of Legend

by Kathryn Le Veque, Kathryn Loch, Dana D'Angelo

  What had she done wrong?

  Why did Micah react like this? Was it wrong for her to enjoy their lovemaking?

  Kate sighed and rubbed her eyes, confusion raging within her and turning into bitterness. She did not know how long she sat, staring at the fire and sipping her wine. The door squeaked open and she jumped.

  Micah entered and looked at her in surprise. His jaw flexed and his blue eyes reflected a hidden misery. “The only revelers who remain are those who snore in a drunken stupor,” he said, his voice strained. His lips lifted in a cynical smile. Micah’s gaze stopped on the bloodstained linens in the corner and he scowled.

  “I will have to give those to the maids in the morning,” Kate said, her voice laced with rancor. She lifted her cup to her lips, her fingers clenching the metal goblet. “No doubt others will need proof against Henry’s inferences.”

  Micah sighed loudly and moved next to her. His fingers stroked the hair away from her face. “Kate…”

  She stared up at him a long moment. “Did I do something wrong?”

  His expression eased and he crouched in front of her chair, taking her hands in his. “Nay, Kate, it was nothing you did.” Micah’s eyes avoided hers. “It is not something I can speak of right now but the fault does not lie with you.”

  “Then what—”

  He shook his head harshly. “Worry not over it, Kate.” He pulled her to her feet. “We need to get some rest.”

  Micah undressed then tugged her chemise off. He crawled in bed and captured her hand, pulling her next to him. Micah gazed at her a long moment. His fingertip traced the sweep of her cheekbone and sent a tingle of fire through her. He kissed her gently. Although his lips brushed over hers, soft and warm, Kate sensed the tightly leashed emotions within him.

  Micah wrapped his arm around her so that she lay with her head on his shoulder and he covered them both with the blankets. But every muscle in his body coiled. Kate wondered if he prepared to do battle rather than go to sleep. Gradually, Micah relaxed and his breathing deepened as sleep claimed him.

  Kate squeezed her eyes shut. How could she lie in Micah’s arms, in her marriage bed, and still feel utterly alone?

  Chapter Ten

  A week after their marriage, Micah awoke at dawn with Kate curled so close she nearly slept on top of him. He would have smiled if his lust hadn’t surged with a primitive fury that bordered on pain. He gritted his teeth and battled his desire with all of his might.

  He refused to hurt her again.

  Every night they slept in each other’s arms but Micah savagely kept control of himself. He had not touched Kate since their wedding night. Every morning he battled his desire, and every morning the war became more difficult to win.

  Yet Micah wondered if his refusal caused Kate more pain now. When Micah returned to their room after that disastrous first night, he saw the anguish and confusion in her eyes. Kate didn’t understand and Micah didn’t know how to explain it. This was exactly why he did not want to marry her. He felt like a bumbling idiot who could only get himself in more trouble.

  Micah sighed and carefully unwound Kate from him, settling her in the bed and pulling the blankets around her. She slept on, oblivious to his actions. He allowed his lips to lift and kissed her lightly. Micah quickly crawled out of bed, even as his body urged him to kiss her again. He dressed and went downstairs.

  A muted gray glow from the weak dawn light, dimly illuminated the halls. Micah’s body remained coiled with the lust still pounding through him. As he had done everyday for the past week, he stalked into the small sleeping area where his knights bunked, throwing the door open so hard it smacked the wall with a loud thud.

  “Get up, you lazy dogs,” he roared, shaking them roughly. “We have repairs to complete.”

  The knights flinched and groaned. They staggered out of bed and grumbled.

  “Move it!” Micah bellowed, clenching his fists. He had to have an outlet for his frustration and working himself to exhaustion on the battlements appeared to be the only answer.

  ***

  Kate tugged the brush through her hair, its lively action reflecting her irritation. She had awakened to find Micah once again gone from their bed. No doubt he would work into the late hours, wolf down some food, then collapse in bed completely exhausted. The next morning, it would begin all over again.

  Kate knew Micah did not want to marry her. Yet she also thought once she put the rumors of bedding MacLeary to rest, Micah might be more open to the marriage. Their wedding night had proven Kate’s words to be true. Why did Micah refuse to touch her after that?

  She feared she had displeased him in some way. Perhaps Micah could not bear her scars and he spoke only to spare her feelings. Their night together had been only to seal the marriage contract, for without consummation the church would not recognize their union.

  Yet, every time Kate thought about their wedding night, a strange warmth curled through her. She had to be honest with herself, she wanted Micah to make love to her again. She missed his touch and his kiss.

  It just didn’t make any sense. How could they share something so wonderful only to have Micah push her away? Kate sighed and finished dressing, sick of the same thoughts and uncertainty spinning through her head every day. She hoped to find an end to this.

  Kate went downstairs and discovered only Tobin, a young stable hand, and Sarah in the great hall. Micah’s men worked on the battlements as usual. Kate paused, watching the two young people. They sat near the hearth with their heads together, looking at many sheets of parchment. She smiled, quickly spotting the signs of budding calf love.

  Kate approached quietly and caught a glance of the parchments. Excellent drawings and sketches filled the pages. Kate saw pictures of herself, Micah, and others who resided at Appleby. There were drawings of horses, dogs, and bare winter trees. Mostly, the drawings focused on Sarah.

  “The illuminations are beautiful,” Kate said.

  Both looked up startled. Sarah paled and Tobin struggled to his feet.

  “My…my lady,” he said, worriedly.

  Kate smiled. “Nay, Tobin, do not concern yourself. I think your drawings are very good.”

  He relaxed considerably. “Thank you, my lady. Baron Montfort has said I may work on them as long as I do not forget my chores.”

  Kate arched an eyebrow, surprised but also pleased that Micah would allow the boy to follow his talents. “Very good, Tobin,” she said and walked to the kitchens.

  “What are you doing?” A young man shouted.

  Kate stopped at the door, startled.

  William barreled toward Tobin and Sarah, taking no notice of Kate. “I told you to stay away from her!”

  Kate’s glance quickly took in the situation. “Oh nay,” she muttered as William closed the distance. Kate hurried forward.

  William’s fist plowed into Tobin’s nose before she reached them. Parchments flew. Tobin staggered back, wiping the blood from his nose. He charged and tackled William. The boys tumbled on the floor as Sarah shouted for them to stop.

  Kate stepped forward and although both boys stood taller than she, she grabbed William and Tobin, struggling to haul them away from each other. “Stop it!”

  William looked at her startled, and a red flush crawled up his neck to his cheeks. Tobin also obeyed, glaring at William. Blood still streamed from Tobin’s nose and William’s eye turned puffy.

  “I will not tolerate fighting in this house,” Kate said sternly. “I’m sure the baron would not either. You two will work out your differences civilly while you both scrub chamber pots for a sennight.”

  “What I do not tolerate is my wife disciplining one of my squires without consulting me first,” Micah said.

  Kate’s heart lurched and she looked up to see Micah standing in the middle of the great hall. His tunic again soaked with sweat and plastered against his massive chest. But his stance appeared awkward with his left shoulder dipped and his arm pressed oddly against his belly. Kate�
��s gaze locked on his face, his expression darkened like a thundercloud.

  Anger sparked within her and she shoved the boys toward Micah. “I,” she said tightly, “will not abide fisticuffs in my home.”

  Micah glared at the boys. “Get out, I will deal with you two later.” The boys ducked and ran out the door.

  Sarah scrambled to pick up the fallen parchment, then sprinted away, disappearing into the kitchens.

  Micah took a step toward Kate. “Would you care to explain?”

  “Explain?” she screeched, her hands fisting into her skirts. “I stop a fight and you want me to explain?”

  “You have no right to discipline my squire without first asking me.”

  “I have every right! I am your wife, Micah, whether you choose to acknowledge me or not. As your wife and the chatelaine of this house, I may discipline anyone as I see fit, including one of your squires.”

  A muscle in Micah’s jaw twitched furiously. He shot a glance at the door to the kitchens then stepped forward. Despite his obvious anger, his fingers closed gently around her arm. “We will continue this in private,” he said between clenched teeth.

  Kate bristled but allowed him to lead her upstairs and to the solar, where he shut the door behind them.

  “How dare you challenge me in front of others,” Micah snapped.

  “And how dare you question my authority,” Kate retorted. “I have every right to discipline those boys for fighting. Because of your actions, now they will no longer respect me. You may hate our marriage but what’s done is done.”

  Micah’s expression softened slightly. “I don’t hate our marriage, Kate.”

  Kate folded her arms across her chest, tears burning her eyes from her fury and frustration. “Is that another jest, my lord?”

  He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Nay.” His indigo eyes snared hers for a moment, then he looked away.

  “Micah, what is wrong?”

  “I…I cannot find the words. It is nothing you have done.”

  Anger and hurt boiled within her and Kate clenched her fists again. What was the problem? She did not want to be ignored or slighted any longer. She was sick of being alone and tired of Micah trying to hide from her.

  He needed to respect her as his wife, and acknowledge her feelings as well.

  Kate stepped forward, forcing down her anger, and trying to control her shaking voice. “Micah, I do not like this division between us, especially since I do not know the reason for it.”

  “I know, Kate,” he said softly. “I do not like it either.” He stared at her a long moment then bowed his head. “Damnation,” he muttered. “I have been such an idiot.”

  Kate’s eyebrows flew up her forehead.

  Micah slowly lifted his gaze. He took a step forward, his fingers lightly brushing her cheek. Kate shivered against the sensation his touch ignited within her. He stared into her eyes for a moment then gently pulled her closer. His right arm wrapped around her and he held her to his chest.

  Kate stiffened then felt his cheek settle against her head as his embrace tightened. She closed her eyes hesitantly wrapping her arms around him. His hand stroked her hair and back, soft and gentle. For a long moment they remained unmoving and silent. Confusion rioted within Kate. Micah’s actions did not make sense but the silent peace between them helped ease her frustration. She sighed, listening to his heart beat a slow and even rythymn then opened her eyes.

  Kate noticed Micah still held his left arm oddly against him while his right wrapped firmly around her. She blinked and lifted her head. “Micah, what’s wrong with your arm.”

  He released her and Kate felt suddenly abandoned. But he rubbed his shoulder tenderly. “I fear I may have pulled it. I thought I should have Marjorie look at it.”

  Kate’s frustration melted into concern. “Take off your tunic. Let me see it.”

  “I will have Marjorie—”

  “Micah, my mother and Marjorie trained me in healing. Now let me see it.”

  Slowly, Micah untied his belt then tugged his tunic off, wincing as he pulled it over his left shoulder. Kate steeled herself, trying to ignore the sight of his well–sculpted body. She stood on her tiptoes to see his shoulder. It did appear a little swollen.

  “Sit down,” she said, pointing to a chair. “What happened?”

  Micah obeyed. “I worked on the scaffolding of the north tower. I slipped and went over the edge but managed to catch myself with my left hand. I nearly yanked my arm off.”

  Kate sucked in her breath. “Micah you could have been killed.”

  He nodded grimly. “Fortunately, Hubert hauled me back.”

  Gently, Kate’s fingers probed the knot of muscle around Micah’s shoulder. He flinched a few times but didn’t yelp. “I don’t think it’s dislocated,” she said, relieved. “You just pulled a few muscles with the strain.”

  “I cannot raise my arm.”

  She nodded. “Aye. You will feel as if you fell from a horse tomorrow.” Kate opened the door and called a servant to fetch a cup of mulled wine and her herb bag. A few moments later the servant returned. Kate rummaged through her bag. She mixed a small amount of valerian and chamomile in the wine and handed it to Micah. “Drink all of it.”

  He downed it in one swallow.

  “Now, I have some oil here that will help.” She dribbled the oil on his back and shoulders and began to gently rub it into the muscles.

  ***

  Micah shivered in delight as Kate’s hands pressed down on his shoulders, spreading the warm oil over his skin. He groaned in surprise and pleasure. Her hands deftly massaged the oil into his taut muscles. Only now did he realize how much his body ached from his near disaster.

  Kate pushed his hair out of the way and her thumbs pressed the oil up the back of his neck. Micah knew shouldn’t be enjoying this. He shouldn’t be sitting here. Every moment pushed his control to the breaking point. Kate continued to work her magic and Micah couldn’t move.

  “Just try to relax.” She swept the heels of her hands down his spine between his shoulder blades. Then her fingers and thumbs worked the oil outward, first the right side and then the left. Micah’s chin dipped and his eyelids drooped. Warmth slowly replaced the chill within him.

  Kate attacked the muscles in his left shoulder with surprising strength, but gently and without pain. She worked all the way down his arm to his hand. Micah tried to hold his arm out for her.

  She stopped. “Nay, keep it relaxed, let me do the work.” He obeyed without argument. Kate worked the oil into his hand, flexing the small bones. She even spread it along his fingers, stroking their length. The warmth within him kindled into a small flame.

  Kate moved to his other shoulder and again worked the oil down his arm to his fingers. Micah’s senses blurred from the laced wine but he also became inordinately aware. Kate hummed sweetly and the oil smelled faintly of sandalwood. Micah’s nerves tingled, brilliantly alive under her hands. For a moment Micah marveled at his wife. How could she do this? How could she care for him so wonderfully after what he had done to her on their wedding night?

  The flame in Micah’s belly burned stronger.

  Kate paused only long enough to wipe her hands clean and then tugged off his boots. “Now, stand up.”

  Confused but unable to resist her, Micah stood and stared in complete shock as she loosened his braes and tugged them off. The fire in his belly roared to his loins. His body quickened and completely betrayed him.

  A soft blush highlighted her cheeks. “Lie on the bed, face down.”

  “What?”

  “Come on, before you stiffen up again.”

  Something was already unbearably stiff but it wasn’t his shoulder. Micah muttered under his breath. “Too late for that.”

  The blush on Kate’s cheeks turned rosy. “Micah,” her tone boded no argument.

  Micah sighed softly and did as she asked. He almost leaped from the bed when she crawled on top of him, straddling him like a horse.<
br />
  “Mon Dieux, woman, what are you doing?”

  Kate sighed impatiently. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you. I’ve done this before.”

  The thought nearly strangled him and he growled, rising from the bed.

  “Oh dear, I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant that I’ve worked with the muscles before. It helps tremendously and right now, you need to relax.”

  “Do you always sit atop your patients?”

  “Nay,” she said, a note of teasing in her voice. “Only my husband. It’s just easier with me on top because you’re so damn big.”

  Micah groaned as a vision flashed through his mind. “Now there’s an interesting thought.”

  Kate muttered under her breath, realizing her words. “Merde, is that how you say it?”

  Micah buried his face in the pillow and started laughing.

  She smacked him lightly on the back. “You are a wicked man.”

  He laughed harder. “Me? I thought ladies should mind their language.”

  “I find it most difficult with you around.”

  Micah buried his face even deeper. The pillow barely muffled his laughter. Kate leaned over and nuzzled his ear. He froze in surprise, his laughter fading.

  “Let me finish this,” she whispered, her lips soft and warm against his ear. “I promise you will feel better for it.”

  He shuddered, allowing his thoughts to wander where her husky words lead. Micah’s control vanished and he could not deny her. “Aye, lady, do what you will to me.”

  Kate sprinkled the warm oil on his back and her hands worked with skill. Micah closed his eyes. He had never experienced anything like this. Pleasure and jealousy tangled into each other. How many men had known the gentle touch of her hands?

  “Kate—”

  “I know what you’re thinking, Micah,” she said quickly. “My mother taught me this skill but I have never used it on any man. Only you.”

  Relief washed over him and his muscles unclenched. He closed his eyes and let his worries vanish.

  ***

  Kate battled with the corded muscles in the small of Micah’s back. She marveled he could move at all. The stress of this day had coiled him like a mangonel preparing for launch. Despite Kate’s embarrassment over their randy conversation, she enjoyed hearing Micah’s laughter buried in the pillow. Now his soft grunts told her he savored her attentions.