Tall, Dark, and Medieval

by Barbara Devlin

  Mayhap she could gain respect by defeating Drake instead of having him by her side. Once the castle was hers, she’d ban him from her land forever. She would keep her horrible secret, and find a way to keep her castle as well.

  She looked back to the bed, watching him slumber, then turned and pulled the door open without a squeak. A loud thump and the splintering of wood just above her hand made her stop in motion. She looked up to see her father’s ivory-handled dagger embedded deeply in the door.

  “Don’t even think of leaving,” was all Drake said. “Now eat your food like a good girl and come to bed.”

  She turned to see him still lying on his back, feet crossed and hands behind his head. She didn’t know when he’d picked up the dagger, nor how he’d heard her leaving when he was in such a deep sleep. She reached for the dagger, planning on pulling it out of the wood and running down the hall, but his sword came flying at her next. The sound of the metal whizzing through the air and splitting the wood just next to the dagger echoed in her head. The fierce face of the dragon on the hilt of his sword stared at her in a threatening manner as the blade quivered back and forth.

  “You attempt it again, and I’ll throw myself at you next.”

  She exhaled the breath she didn’t know she was holding, and slowly closed the door.

  THE DRAGON AND THE DREAMWALKER

  CHAPTER SIX

  Brynn didn’t sleep much at all that night. She’d eaten her stale bread and drank her ale, then fell asleep on the chair at the far side of the room. She must have sat there for hours just watching the man sleeping on the bed. And every time she tried to get out of the chair, his eyes were open, warning her not to try to leave.

  She reveled at the way the man knew what was going on around him, even when he was sleeping. A true trait of a warrior, she supposed. Always know what your enemy is doing. And that’s exactly how she felt right now. Like his enemy. This was no way to feel about the man she was going to marry in the morning. Oh, if only she hadn’t given away her virginity, mayhap things would be different.

  She toyed with the idea of just coming out and telling Drake the truth. But remembering his anger had her thinking differently. Then she decided, she’d have a better chance of not being exiled if they were already married. But either way, she would not be a prisoner in her own castle.

  There was only one way to get out and about without him knowing, and she decided to use it. She closed her eyes and went into a light sleep. She was skilled at relaxing her body enough to enter into the Dreamwalker’s state. Her body relaxed, her breathing became shallow. She started to slip into her alternate world between awake and dreaming where she knew she was always safe.

  Her etheric spirit slipped from her physical form, lifting up and out high into the air. She felt the cool breeze rush past her face and the lightness, airiness of leaving her body at will. She willed herself back down to the floor, and looked at her own physical body lying with eyes closed, motionless in the chair. If he awoke now, he’d think she was asleep. He wouldn’t hold her prisoner, but she would let him think he had.

  She floated toward the door, and directly through it. She drifted through the corridors, noticing that Drake had many guards posted up and down the hall though he’d made her think no one would be guarding against her escape. He obviously didn’t trust her. She didn’t trust him either.

  Asad, Drake’s foreign squire, wasn’t sleeping as he should be. Instead, she found him in the dark kitchens fondling a serving wench who was half undressed. The girl’s cries of passion struck a chord in her, and Brynn had to look away before her own passion for Drake consumed her. She left them rolling on the floor, finding herself wondering what it would be like to find herself in Drake’s arms in that position.

  “Thinking you can escape me?”

  She swung around and saw Drake standing in the kitchen doorway. How could he see her in her etheric form? How did he know she left?

  She looked back at Asad and the maid who were now in the heat of coupling right on the kitchen floor. They acted as if they didn’t even hear Drake or see him standing in the doorway.

  Drake walked up to the couple, nodding his head as he watched their passion unleash.

  “Yes, Asad always was a lion in everything he did. I see he doesn’t sleep much at night.”

  Why didn’t Asad stop? Why didn’t he acknowledge his lord catching him in the act of making love? Something was very wrong.

  “Come to me, Brynn. We can be as passionate as they. Let me show you.”

  “No!” She backed away. She knew as soon as he touched her, his hand would go right through her and he’d know she was out of her body. He’d find a way of stopping her from doing it, if he knew.

  “Don’t be afraid of The Dragon, my dear. Your fires are hotter than any the beast can store.”

  He reached out and touched her arm. She squinted and cringed, knowing he would see her as a ghost and probably run her through with his sword. But instead, she felt his touch. She felt his fingers entwining around her own and the brush of his lips against hers.

  “How can this be?” She trembled. This was all so real.

  “How indeed. I am no different from you, Dreamwalker.”

  Then she knew immediately what he’d done. He’d left his body and traveled in his spirit form just as she had. She hadn’t known he had the ability. This man never ceased to amaze her.

  “It can’t be. You can’t have - ”

  Her words were cut short as his mouth covered hers. She heard the mating sounds of Asad and the wench behind them, only adding to her own arousal. He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth and she felt it. She felt every glorious place that he touched her with his etheric hands.

  “We could be so good together, Witch. Don’t you agree?”

  Her eyes were closed, but the word witch made them open quickly.

  “No. I don’t agree,” she said, pushing him away. “You play a dangerous game, my lord, of which you know nothing.”

  “I knew enough to follow you when you left your body and the room.”

  “You’ll remember nothing when you wake. It takes years of practice to have these instances embedded onto one’s waking mind.”

  “Then play with me, Precious. You won’t have to face me in the morning, since as you say - I won’t remember.” He reached out and tilted her chin upwards. Her eyes closed in anticipation as his lips brushed across hers, sending a tingling vibration through her form.

  “We can kiss, so I guess we can do more in this form . . . can’t we?”

  She stiffened. She pushed away and looked to the ground.

  “What is it you’re proposing we do, my lord?”

  “You’ll be my wife in body tomorrow. I’d like you to be my wife in spirit also.”

  She’d never made love in this form before. But other Dreamwalkers had told her it was so much more stimulating and satisfying than in the physical. Her curiosity was peaked. Her spirit was willing. But she couldn’t trust him. Didn’t want to trust him - in any form.

  A loud thumping noise echoed in her head, and Drake looked around reaching for his sword, but it wasn’t there.

  “We’re under attack,” he cried, and Brynn tried to tell him he was wrong. But her spirit whisked quickly through the cool air, dragging her back into her body. She landed with a jerk and sat upright, her eyes wide open.

  The candles had been extinguished and there was no fire on the hearth. It was too dark to see. She flicked her wrist and the candles around the bed lit. Then with a few magical words, a full-fledged fire appeared on the hearth. She could see him then.

  Drake was lying prone on the bed. His physical body still looked asleep. Someone was pounding at the bedchamber door. He did nothing to respond. Her heart fluttered, and her mind soared. Hadn’t he found his way back to his body? Re-entry was something that happened without one trying. The spirit always re-entered the body once the physical form was disturbed.

  The pounding continued, an
d Brynn jumped to her feet. Then Drake’s body jerked on the bed and she knew by his deep gasp of breath that he’d returned.

  His eyes opened and he looked around, dazed. His gaze settled on her and he seemed as if he were trying to remember something, but couldn’t.

  She cleared her throat and pointed at the door. “Someone knocks on the bedchamber door, my lord. Shall I bid them enter?”

  “What?” He rubbed his head, then glanced at the door, finally understanding what she’d said. The pounding started up once again. “Who is it?” he called, reaching for his sword and swinging his feet over the side of the bed.

  “My lord, it is your steward, Garrick.”

  “Enter,” he called, jumping to his feet. He looked for his tunic, then realized she wore it. He grabbed one from a hook on the wall instead.

  “My lord. I apologize for disturbing you.” Garrick glanced at Brynn, then over to Drake pulling on his clothes. A smile lit up the man’s face.

  Drake looked across the room towards Brynn. His eyes scanned her body, and a frown darkened his face. He looked very confused. “Nay. You aren’t disturbing anything, Garrick. Now what is it?”

  Brynn’s heart jumped as she suddenly wondered if perhaps he could almost remember what happened. She hoped not.

  “Your squire seems to be missing. I know ’tis early, but he was supposed to meet the priest this morning to go over the plans for your wedding.”

  “Missing?” asked Drake. “I have no idea where he’s off to. ’Tis not like Asad to be late.”

  Brynn once again cleared her throat and Drake gave her his attention.

  “If I may?” she asked.

  “Speak freely, my dear.”

  “I do believe you’ll find him in the kitchen with a rather - voluptuous and randy kitchen maid.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Garrick looked back to Drake. “By your leave, sir?”

  Drake nodded. “You’re dismissed, Garrick. Tell Asad everything still runs on schedule. The wedding is in an hour.”

  “Aye, my lord.” Garrick left, closing the door.

  Brynn turned toward the window, grabbing the coverlet and wrapping it around herself.

  “How did you know where to find Asad?” came his low voice from behind her.

  She smiled. “A lucky guess? He seems like the kind of man to whom women would be attracted.”

  “Hmmmfff,” he grumbled as if he were insulted. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his boots. “I’ll send the chamber maid up at once to help prepare you for the wedding. You do have something besides that to wear.”

  It was more of a command than a question.

  “I notice you’re wearing old and dirty clothing,” she commented.

  He stood and strapped his sword around his waist. His tunic was crumpled, his hose beneath his braies dirty. His hair was long and tangled and he needed a shave.

  “’Tis a wedding. I am not dressing for battle. What I’m wearing will suffice.”

  Now it was her turn to “hmmmfff,” in insult.

  “You almost sound as if you care,” he said with a smile.

  “If you’re demanding I marry you without regards to my opinion, then it is a battle.” She smiled back. “I suggest you wear your finest armor to the ceremony. And be sure to polish your blade.”

  His hand clenched the hilt of his sword and he narrowed his gaze.

  “Since you’re so interested in my blade, I’ll be sure to let you do the polishing. . . after the wedding!”

  He left the room, and Brynn felt her face flush at that comment. She was glad he didn’t remember anything that happened in the Dreamwalker state. She could never face him in the physical if he had.

  Drake paused just outside the door, running a hand through his hair. He felt like he’d consumed a barrel of wine last night, though he hadn’t had a drop. His head pounded and his eyes felt sunken on his face. And there was this nagging feeling inside him that he was forgetting something. Something to do with the girl, but he just couldn’t remember.

  “My lord!” Asad ran up to him, straightening his tunic and running his hand through his hair. “I guess I must have overslept.”

  Drake looked at him curiously. “Were you in the kitchens with a certain voluptuous wench by any chance?”

  Asad’s eyes shot up to his and Drake knew it was true.

  “I was . . . meeting a certain need, my lord. I won’t let it happen again.”

  “I don’t object to your healthy appetite for women, squire. But just make sure it doesn’t interfere with your duties.”

  “It won’t,” he answered. “I’ll be off at once to make certain the wedding preparations go as planned.”

  “No. Stay here at the door until I send up the guard. I don’t want the girl leaving the room again without my permission.”

  “She left the room?” asked Asad. “When, my lord?”

  Drake shook his head. “I’m not sure. Did you happen to see her last night in the kitchens?”

  “Nay, my lord. But I was a little preoccupied.”

  “Aye. Well, keep your eyes open.” Drake headed for the great hall to try to get something to eat. Mayhap a little food would help clear this confusion in his head.

  When he entered the great hall, he noticed the men in blue robes sitting at one of the trestle tables speaking with one of the serving wenches. She looked up toward Drake and pointed. The men nodded to her, stood, and came to meet him.

  “Lord Dunsbard,” one asked, while the other two stayed silent, hoods still raised. “I am Hermod, the chief Elder of the village of Lornoon.”

  Drake surveyed the man, taking a tankard of ale from a servant boy who joined them. He then nodded, and the boy bowed his head and left them. Then Drake took a swig of ale before answering. “You can address me by my new title of Lord Thorndale now. And I know who you are, and also what you want. I sent word with your servant last night that you cannot have Brynn.”

  “But we must! She means much to the people of Lornoon.” Hermod stood with his hands folded in front of him, almost like a holy man. His gray hair was shaved in a tonsure just like a monk.

  “’Tis not the impression I received when I found her tied to the sacrificial post. For some reason, I got the distinct feeling she meant nothing to the people of Lornoon and that’s why you decided to sacrifice her.”

  “You don’t understand, my lord. ’Tis her fault we have no virgins to sacrifice to Dracus. She convinced them all to deflower themselves at the hands of the men of the village so they’d not meet the sacrificial requirements.”

  “Really.” Drake smiled and took another swig of ale. This conversation was getting more interesting by the moment. He admired the feisty wench for her creative plan of action. Too bad she hadn’t been wise enough to deflower herself along with the villagers. If so, mayhap she’d never have been tied to the stake at all.

  He couldn’t wait to see how creative she’d be when they consummated their marriage. He liked the fact she was still a virgin. Just like any other nobleman, Drake wanted his bride to be untouched and untried. He wanted to claim her as his own, with no other man having had the experience of seeing her naked while lying between her legs.

  “I’m sorry, Hermod, but she’ll be of no use to you after today anyway. You see, we’re getting married this morning.”

  The two Elders with downcast eyes looked up at this comment. They looked first at Drake and then over to their leader as if waiting for a command.

  “So my messenger relayed,” said Hermod. “But I refused to believe it until I heard it for myself.”

  “Is it so hard to believe such a lovely girl could be getting married?” In his own mind he knew it was, considering Brynn’s attitude, not to mention her cunning manner and attacks with hot knives.

  “You should not marry her, my lord. No one should. ’Tis a warning handed down through generations. No man can couple with the woman of fire without being doomed. Doomed unless he, himself, can stop the dragon from co
ming.”

  “I fear not old wives’ tales. Nor am I afraid of a woman who can escape being burned by fire.”

  “She’s a witch!” Hermod spat. The other two men nodded their heads in agreement. “She needs to be stopped. This is the only way to do it.”

  “Stopped? Stopped from doing what? Catching bed linens on fire? I fail to see that she is a threat to anyone.”

  “She’ll be the cause of your demise, Lord Thorndale, mark my words. Do not couple with her. Do not go anywhere near her if you value your life. Turn her over to us so we can dispose of her at the jaws of Dracus.”

  “That’s enough!” Drake waved over Walden, one of his soldiers, who was standing by the door. “Take these men away and give the sentries my order that they’re not to be admitted beyond the gates again.”

  Walden guided the Elders to the exit, and Hermod looked back over his shoulder.

  “You will regret this, I tell you. You will regret ever saving the witch from Dracus. You are doomed! Doomed, I say.”

  Drake finished his ale and slammed the tankard down on the table. He had a feeling stirring deep within him that was only made worse by Hermod’s intentions of killing Brynn. He cared for her, and more than for his own needs. But damn, if Hermod’s words didn’t strike a note of concern within him. He had no doubt in his mind his life would be challenged because of Brynn.

  It wasn’t long before Brynn heard the chambermaid enter the room. Through the open door she saw Asad leaving and a guard taking his place. Didn’t they know a guard couldn’t stop her? She’d been out and about the castle last night and no one was aware, since her body never left the chair.

  Drake seemed flustered this morning and she knew why. He was so alert even in his sleep, that he’d known when she’d dreamwalked and had followed her in the same manner. He was an exceptional man to be able to do this at will on the first try. He intrigued her in his spirit form. He aggravated her while in the physical.