Rising Fire

by TERRI BRISBIN

  As they crossed the miles, every person in their group began to suffer, so Marcus knew they were approaching evil. He ordered them to set up an encampment in a covered, secluded place in the woods before they entered the valley that would lead to the beginning of their challenge.

  Choosing two of his men, he set them to the task of searching ahead for signs of the two descendants they needed to find. If they could convince the first two warriors of their history and their quest, Marcus believed they could stop the evil one here.

  “Marcus?”

  He turned to find Aislinn behind him, looking even more haunted in the light of day than she had during the last long, sleepless night.

  “You should be resting, Aislinn. You get so little sleep and our journey is long.”

  “I would,” she said with a wan smile, “but it is my duty to hear the warnings and the signs.”

  “And you have heard more?” he asked.

  Guiding her to sit on a log, he found the skin of ale and held it out to her. She drank little and ate less, and he watched her losing part of herself as the cost of her gift. His duty was to see she accomplished her task. One of the men passed him some cheese and bread and he gave them to her. “Eat and drink first.”

  When she did not argue, Marcus knew she understood the risk of becoming weak, especially now. Once they found the circle of stones and deciphered the symbols, she would be called on to perform the ritual—and that ritual would have great physical cost. Her survival was as important as that of the descendants—without her, they could all be present and ready to use their powers, but would never succeed.

  Once she ate a small amount, more than yester morn’s, she gazed at him with an intensity he’d not seen since their departure from their island home. Her green eyes seemed so bright against her pale skin.

  “There are two firebloods, Marcus. Two.”

  He shook his head. All the prophecies pointed to one of each bloodline being the only one left with enough power to close the gateways. “That is not—”

  “Possible? I thought not, too, but the dreams show me two of them. And the warblood is here, as well,” she said.

  “Each one needs the other. What does this mean, Aislinn? Will we find two of each line now?”

  “One fireblood is the goddess’ minion; the other one is the one we need for our task.” Confidence entered her weak voice, as it did when she spoke of the dreams or signs. “She is the path to the warblood’s cooperation.”

  They knew that the two needed to close each gateway would be linked in some way, but Aislinn’s visions could not see all of those details yet. Marcus suspected each pair would be a man and a woman, each with a power that either complemented the other’s or controlled it, but he could not be certain. Until she could see it clearly, they were relying on their limited experience and other intuitions.

  “Are the firebloods known to each other? To the warblood?” he asked. The men he’d sent would find out some of this, but Aislinn might know now.

  “Connected closely,” she said, nodding. “Though the warblood has not met both yet.” She smiled then, a slight curve of her mouth, and then looked at him. “He will be a strong warrior against evil.”

  “If we can convince him to carry out his part.”

  “Aye.” She stood then and brushed the few crumbs from her gown. “She is already his weakness. Their connection is only beginning, and yet it is nearly unbreakable. I had no idea it could happen so quickly.”

  “Nor I,” he said. None of the priests understood it; nor would they, until all the pieces stood together in plain sight like a puzzle needing to be solved. “Rest now and gain your strength if you can. Donal and Colin will not return for at least a day.”

  Aislinn turned to leave him, but paused and looked at him over her shoulder. Her green eyes faded to the color of the shadows of the forest leaves now. “Will I be able to do my part, Marcus? Do you think I can?”

  He smiled then, at her lack of confidence, which was not unusual for a young woman who’d never been tested. A seer himself, but with only a small portion of the power she possessed, he was certain of the answer. To his soul, to his blood and bones, he knew there was truth in the words he was about to speak to her.

  “Aye, Aislinn. You will fulfill your duties in this. That much I know.”

  There were dark corners in his visions where the possibilities hid from exposure, and he shivered then as she walked away. Aislinn would succeed and guide those who needed her. He would aid her however he could, as would all those who’d journeyed with them from the island.

  The problem was that he had no idea if any of them would survive once they’d carried out their parts. No matter how hard he tried to see that part of the future, no amount of praying or chanting or scrying revealed it. Marcus walked to a place where he could be alone and knelt on the ground.

  So many strands and threads were coming together to be woven into the future. Of many colors and textures, the warp and weft would be put in place by those who carried the blood of the gods. He could see the parts, waiting to be worked into the cloth of the future, but he could not touch them or guide them himself. Only the others could bring this weaving to fruition; he could only show them the pattern to follow.

  Marcus prayed now for the wisdom he needed in the coming days, and in a moment of weakness, he prayed for the life of the young woman he considered his daughter. May the gods be merciful in this.

  * * *

  Though he’d told the blacksmith he would not pursue the man’s daughter, William found it impossible not to watch her. Over the next days, while he pondered his plan and decided when to approach Lord Hugh, he found himself standing in the shadows, just far enough away from her that he could not feel her influence, observing her as she went through her days. Roger’s scowl remained in place, a constant reminder of the folly of such actions, but William knew he must learn about her to understand his quest and her part in it.

  He also knew he was not alone in watching. There were others in the forest, just beyond the valley and on the opposite hillside, others who did the same thing he did—watch and prepare. From the number of weapons he saw stored throughout the village and the troops that had arrived that sennight, Lord Hugh was planning a large endeavor. Whether a treasonous rebellion against the king or something else, William knew not . . . yet.

  So he watched.

  And this morn he needed to be close to Brienne, so he followed her. She walked in a different direction from her usual one, heading along the stream and around the castle. She paused often, listening for signs that she was being pursued or watched, but his tracking skills had risen to a new level since he had arrived here. He could scent her, hear her steps, and feel her ahead of him. He stopped when she did and stepped as she did. Her destination this day was a cave, hidden away behind thick brush and plants.

  William waited until she’d entered, clever enough to pull branches and leaves over its low entrance, and he listened. When the cave filled with a flash of fire, he pulled the branches out of his way and called out her name.

  “Brienne? Brienne, are you well?” But no one answered. He knelt down and peered inside, seeing only the fire burning in the corner and no one there.

  Had he somehow lost her trail in the forest? He looked around the cave, but still saw only that fire, and so he crawled back out. Racing the way he’d come, William looked for crushed leaves and inhaled to detect her scent along the path.

  Nothing. And no Brienne in sight.

  Trotting back toward the cave, he saw the flames flare again, and then the cave grew dark. Then her smaller form crawled out of the cave and stood. The branches were not where she’d left them, and she glanced around before climbing to her feet and brushing the dirt from her hands.

  How had she . . . ? There had been nothing in that cave except the fire burning in the corner. Had he missed anoth
er entrance or hiding place within? Nothing there but a fire. William shook his head at the notion that took hold of him.

  A fire burning with no wood or peat to fuel it.

  A fire made out of nothing?

  Had she created it as she had the fireball in her hands?

  It was too nonsensical to accept. He must have missed the signs of another way in or out of that cave.

  He shook his head again before realizing the absolute and sheer insanity of his thoughts. Thoughts that a month ago would have seen him imprisoned as a madman or a heretic now did not shock him at all.

  Was his father so afflicted or had his strange words of warning caused this in him? How had things changed so quickly in his otherwise clear and orderly life? How had he changed so much?

  The woman at the center of his speculations had yet to see him, so he stepped into the path and watched as her eyes widened in surprise.

  “Sir . . . William,” she stuttered out the words. “I . . .” He watched as she tried to come up with some excuse or words of explanation. William shook his head at her and shrugged his shoulders. “I did not see you there,” she finally said.

  “Nay, you did not.”

  Waiting for her to reach him, he noticed the way her cheeks flushed as she met his gaze. Innocent. He must remind himself that she was an innocent. Or, he had no doubt, the well-muscled fists of the blacksmith would remind him so. It mattered not, for nothing in this world could stop the desire for her that grew within him. And the need to protect her.

  Who was this young woman?

  When he was rational and thought on it, she could have no place in his life. That much he knew and understood. And as an honorable man, he would not dally with an innocent when he could not offer the protection of his name. As he could not. Once his lands were secured, once the king confirmed the grant and title, then he would seek a wife and establish his household. And it could never be this woman.

  No matter that the need to claim her filled his body and soul every time he encountered her.

  “Your expression is quite formidable, Sir William,” she said softly, now right before him. “Have I done something to displease you?”

  For a moment, he was diverted by her words.

  “You need to have a care, Brienne. I thought you’d gone into that cave and burned when I saw the fire burst forth.”

  “I thank you for your concern, Sir William, but these lands are known to me. I was searching for something left behind by one of the village boys in that cave. And I saw no fire there.”

  For a scant moment, he doubted his own sight, but that was before he remembered the other strange things he’d witnessed only a few days ago. Such things raised questions and could have been witnessed by any number of people, putting her in grave peril. Over the last several days, too many strangers had entered this valley—from the last of his men to the additional armed men who rode into Yester Castle’s yard to the newest arrivals whose identities he knew not.

  “There are strangers in the valley, Brienne. You should have a care not to be caught alone,” he warned. The irony of his warning was not lost on him.

  “Lord Hugh is in residence now,” she said with a slight lift of her chin. “No one would—” She stopped as though revealing too much to him.

  “Do you think that is enough to protect you? And if a man did not know you were under his protection? How long do you think it would take a man to . . . to . . . do this?”

  He gave up trying to warn her and instead just took her in his arms and showed her what could happen to her. At least that was what he told himself in that moment. Then he kissed her as he’d wanted to for days.

  The last time, the first kiss, he’d held back, exploring Brienne’s mouth gently. This time he was not gentle. He did not explore. He claimed.

  He possessed her.

  What began as a way to show her the vulnerability of a woman alone became an exploration of the growing passion and attraction between the two of them.

  Sliding his hands into her hair, he held her face close to his and kissed her long and hard. Then, easing back, he kissed along her forehead and along her chin, the same one she’d recently raised in challenge to him. Unable to resist the taste of her, he teased her lips with the tip of his tongue until she opened for him. His tongue plunged into her, finding hers and drawing it into his mouth.

  She made soft sounds against him as he suckled on her tongue, driving him mad and making him ache to take all of her. Her hands crept up along his and yet he did not stop. Then she leaned in to him, the heat of her body igniting his desire even more. He slid his hands along her neck and shoulders and then down to her waist. He eased them around her and cupped the globes of her bottom, pulling her up hard and tight against his raging flesh.

  And never for a moment did he release her mouth from his. When she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, he kissed her until she was breathless and then moved his mouth over the gentle skin of her neck, kissing and nipping down to the place where her gown lay low on the swell of her breasts.

  He should stop. He knew he should. He planned to. But her hands slid into his hair just then, her fingers tangling in the curls and pulling his head down. He let his desire flow, loosening the ties of her gown and chemise with one hand while his mouth played its way along her skin. Tugging the edges lower, he licked the stiff peak of her breast and drew it in his mouth.

  Her legs gave way then, and he guided them down, first to a kneel and then onto the ground. Holding her gown away, he kissed the soft mounds and caught a tip once more, this time worrying it with his teeth and licking the pink bud of it as she gasped. Her body lay next to his, writhing and rubbing against him in the way of an innocent who did not know the pleasure before her. William caressed her body and placed his hand over her belly and then lower, grazing his fingers over that place where he knew she ached, even if she did not understand it.

  An innocent.

  The word and its meaning finally sank into his passion-riddled mind, as did the lesson he’d wanted to teach her about being caught alone. Instead she’d taught him about his own weakness when it came to her. A weakness that could be deadly in the danger that was coming.

  He stilled then and lifted his head, releasing her lovely breast. She panted, breathing shallow and fast, under him. Her eyes were closed and her head tossed back in pleasure. A sight he would never forget. William waited a moment to catch his own breath before speaking the words that would drive her away from him and hopefully keep her safe. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, he nodded.

  “And that is how fast a man could have you beneath him, taking your favors and your honor, if you get caught alone.”

  He knelt and then stood, grasping her hands and pulling her with him. She swayed on her feet, the rosiness of her breasts now hidden by the garments she tugged back into place. The blush on her cheeks faded, replaced by the paleness of shock. Brienne turned her back on him to finish tying her laces and then ran her fingers through the length of her now-loosened and tangled hair.

  Facing him, she began to speak several times and ended up saying nothing. Then, damn him, those amber eyes filled with tears. His heart tore apart at the sight of her distress and humiliation. All he wanted to do was hold her. Tell her that he reacted this way because she was driving him mad with worry and the need to protect her and keep her safe . . . and that he knew he could not.

  “Brienne, I . . . ” He paused, for what could he say now that he’d turned his honest desire for her and her naïve, new desire for him into something tawdry? She shook her head and began to leave. “Wait, I pray you,” he said. She hesitated, and he took the chance it gave him.

  “Something strange and dangerous is going on. The king has asked me to seek the reasons. Everything points to your lord. Now more strangers are arriving each day, and I . . . worry that you will not be safe as you
make your way through your errands and chores. Not as safe as you might think you are. Have a care and stay close to your father.” Her eyes widened the tiniest amount, but he still noticed it. “He can protect you best.” She crossed her arms over her body and rubbed her arms as she nodded. He stepped back to allow her to pass and added the final warning: “Even from me.”

  Without another word and whether she heard his last warning or not, Brienne ran off, back toward the village and—he hoped—safety.

  Now she might think before wandering off and putting herself in danger. And mayhap his rude behavior would keep her from him and break the hold, the draw, the connection they had with each other. She must go back to her life and he to his. Pacing himself to stay far enough behind her not to be seen, he wondered if he would wake up on the morrow and discover that this strange journey on behalf of the king had just been some kind of nightmarish dream.

  Ignoring the painful protest of how much his body disagreed with his honor’s actions, William strode back to his men, intent on finishing their plan and on riding into Yester Village and castle and meeting with Lord Hugh. Those good intentions, like so many that lined another path, evaporated when he was about fifty yards from the camp.

  For Brienne screamed out his name in terror.

  Chapter 9

  Turning around and around, he could neither see nor hear her. But . . . he had heard her. Roger must have been watching, for he and Gautier came running to his side.

  “Did you hear that?” he asked, holding his hand to his brow to shade his eyes. “Did you hear her?”

  “I heard nothing but you,” Roger answered.

  “You speak of the girl?” Gautier asked. “Is she nearby?”

  Drawing his sword, he closed his eyes and saw her being half dragged and half carried through the forest by three men. A gag in her mouth, her hands bound now, she seemed unaware of herself and her surroundings. Worse, the image in his thoughts went completely and utterly black then, as though she’d lost consciousness.