Tall, Dark, and Medieval

by Barbara Devlin

  “G’morning,” he said.

  Brynn nodded. “Good morning, Rowley.” Rowley was one of the few original people left after the siege of the castle. He lost a son in the battle as well as a wife, and Brynn knew he held a lot of vengeance toward Drake.

  “Have you seen my husband this morn?” She tried to sound chipper, but the man’s scowl was very darkening.

  “If I had, I’d run the man through with me own blade. If it wasn’t for you coming back milady, I would have left Thorndale Castle by now, even if it meant me life.”

  “Rowley, I’m so sorry about your son and wife. But you mustn’t hold it against Lord Dunsbard. He was not responsible for their deaths.”

  “Don’t you mean, Lord Thorndale?” the man asked.

  She smiled slightly, not certain any more of what to call her new husband. But though she yearned to regain her castle, she wouldn’t sully Drake’s name in doing so. She believed him when he said he hadn’t kill children and women. She had to let Rowley know the truth. “I don’t believe he killed your family, Rowley. It was probably the Klarens before Drake scared them off.”

  “You can’t tell me y’ believe the bloody liar. If he is as admirable as you’re making him sound, then why is he alive and my family dead? He’s responsible for their deaths, and he’d say anythin’ to get y’ in his bed. You did th’ right thing throwin’ him out last night. We all admire you fer that.”

  Brynn didn’t want to talk about the wedding night nor who was responsible for the deaths, and decided to change the subject.

  “I am here to visit Feathers,” she told him. “I think ’twould do her good to see me again.”

  “Aye, well, she’s in there along with the new falconer I’m trainin’ from Lornoon.”

  Brynn nodded, knowing Rowley had had plans for his own son to be his apprentice. And that he would have, hadn’t the attack on the castle come and claimed so many lives.

  “Thank you, Rowley. If I can do anything to help ease your pain, let me know.”

  “You can kill that bastard in his sleep is what y’ can do. I feel for y’ Brynn, forced to be that man’s wife.”

  Rowley headed for the stable, mumbling to himself. Brynn suddenly wondered if her little plan to regain the castle was working too well. She didn’t want the people rebelling against Drake to the point of wanting to kill him. She just wanted their loyalty, and she could see that she’d earned that from Rowley. And she wanted her father’s castle back so she could prove to the people of Thorndale that they could trust her and that she would protect them. And that she was truly sorry for their losses. She wanted to rule in her father’s place and bring back the peace that Thorndale once knew.

  Brynn shook her head in thought. All of the survivors seemed to hate Drake, so mayhap it wasn’t of her doing. Before yesterday she would have been the first in line to lead them into a rebellion, but now she thought differently. She saw Drake in a different light, though she still wasn’t happy he took over her castle, nor did he deserve it. That was something she knew would never be accepted by those who had lost loved ones, nor should they, either.

  She entered the mews, cooing out softly to her pet.

  “Feathers, you are such a big bird now,” she said, approaching the bird and running her finger over the falcon’s head. The bird twitched its head under her endearing touch. “You look so ravishing today.”

  “And you’re looking ravishing too, for a woman who supposedly hates her husband so much she kicked him out of the bedchamber on his wedding night.”

  She didn’t expect to hear Calais’ voice in the mews. She turned to see his broken-toothed smile as he made his way towards her. He held up a gloved hand for Feathers, but the bird snapped at him, sensing his bad intentions.

  “Why you no good bird. I’ll have you for dinner because of that!”

  Brynn grabbed his hand before he could hit the bird.

  “Don’t you dare harm my bird or any of the others or I’ll see to it Drake puts your head on a spike.”

  “Now is that any way for you to talk to your lover?” He grabbed her hand in his and laughed.

  “Let me go, Calais.”

  “Did you tell that husband of yours about us yet? Mayhap I can pleasure you since he can’t seem to do the job. After all, you came to me willingly - something you won’t do for him.”

  “You cur!” she said and spat in his eye. “I only laid with you to try to save my life. Now I wish I hadn’t.”

  He wiped his eye and grinned. “Mayhap it’s time your husband knew you whored yourself out to me. Here he comes now,” said Calais, motioning with his head out the door.

  Brynn glanced out the door, spying Drake dismounting from his horse. Calais’s words alarmed her. If he was to tell Drake she had lain with him, her plans would be ruined. Not only would Drake see her in a different light, but so would the people of Thorndale.

  Drake would probably have her flogged, and all would see her as a traitor or a whore. They wouldn’t pledge their allegiance to her if they knew she had passed herself off as a virgin when she wasn’t.

  The people of Lornoon saw her as a heroine, saving their lives and willing to sacrifice her own life in the process. She couldn’t let them know the truth now. And for some odd reason, the thought bothered her of how Drake would feel if he knew she’d lain with someone besides him. She had to keep her coupling with Calais a secret.

  “No! Please don’t say anything to him,” she begged.

  “Why not? Afraid what he might do to you?”

  “Afraid what he might do to you if he finds out, is more like it,” she threatened.

  “I’d love to believe you care for my safety, but I’m not addlepated. You promise me I’ll be trained as one of his knights and I’ll promise you that I won’t spill our little secret.”

  “It’s almost amusing how you were so closed-mouthed about it when I wanted you to tell the Elders, to save my life. Now you are so eager to make it known.”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore to me, Brynn. We are under the lord’s protection and can’t be harmed by the dragon. The way I see it, you’re the only one with something to lose. So what is your decision, my lady?”

  She saw Drake approaching, leaving Gollimer with his squire and wearing a robe that looked a lot like Rowley’s. He clenched it tightly around himself as he headed for the mews.

  “Alright,” she said in desperation. “I’ll try to convince him to train you as a knight. In the meantime, just please don’t say anything about . . . about . . . ”

  “About probing you with my own sword?”

  “You bastard! I can’t wait to see your body swinging at the end of a rope.”

  He just smiled and made his way out of the mews, bowing his head to Drake in what she knew was a fake act of loyalty and admiration.”

  “Good day, my lord. I’ll be at your service should you need me. My name is Calais.”

  She watched Drake give him an odd sort of smile as if he didn’t know what to make of the man. She didn’t want him to know she watched, and hurried over to her bird instead. He entered, and when his eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, he looked at her in surprise.

  “Brynn. What are you doing in here?”

  “I came to see Feathers.” She put on the falconer’s glove and scooped up her falcon.

  “I see.” He made his way past her and knelt in the hay, searching for something.

  “For what do you search, my lord?” she asked him.

  “I seem to have lost my dagger and am hoping it’s here.”

  “Sleeping in the mews last night?”

  He stopped his search and answered without looking at her.

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t need to.” She put her falcon back on the post, removed the glove, and walked up behind him. Laying her hand on his shoulder, she felt him stiffen beneath her touch. Still, he didn’t turn to look at her.

  “The bedchamber is big enough for two,” she told him. �
��I wouldn’t want the lord of the castle to be caught sleeping in the hay alone.”

  “Who said I was alone?” He turned to face her and she saw the way his eyes devoured her. He couldn’t have remembered, could he? Suddenly she felt embarrassed by her brash words. It was almost as if he knew they’d made love last night and he knew just how much she wanted him.

  “What - what do you mean?” She drew back.

  “I am the lord of Thorndale Castle now, and even if I won’t take you by force, there are many other wenches who wouldn’t deny warming my bed.”

  “So you are saying you bedded a woman in the hay last night?”

  He paused a moment before answering. “Would it disturb you if I did? Would it anger you, Wife?”

  She was aghast. For a moment she thought he had sought out a buxom wench, but then she remembered seeing him so frustrated. He still looked that way. He was either trying to cause envy, or he was a perpetual liar trying to save his dignity.

  Brynn watched him searching in the hay fruitlessly for his dagger. She contemplated telling him she’d been with him on the dreamwalking plane, but then decided to remain silent. After refusing him in the physical, she couldn’t very well tell him she’d come to him in etheric form.

  She reached up and unlodged the dagger from the wall where she’d seen him throw it last night. She handed it hilt-first to him. “Your dagger, my lord.”

  “Aye,” he said, retrieving it and standing to tower over her. He opened his mouth to speak, as if he were going to ask her how she knew where to look for it, but changed his mind. He went to fasten it at his side and her eyes followed. She couldn’t believe what she saw. He couldn’t fasten it at his side, as he wasn’t wearing any clothes beneath the robe. There he stood in all his glory, just as manly and enticing as she’d found him last night. And just as straight as well.

  He hurriedly pulled his cloak around himself and turned away. She couldn’t help but laugh.

  “It seems to me you’ve forgotten more than just your dagger, my lord. If you truly did bed a wench in the hay last night, she doesn’t seem to have pleased you.”

  “I’ve just come from bathing in the lake and didn’t want to don my dirtied clothes,” he told her. Then he turned around and reached out and pulled her against him. Her body slammed against his bare flesh. His eyes were angry, his chest hard. He took her fingers and clasped them around his aroused form. The smile died on her lips when she realized what she held. She couldn’t let go because of his grip around her own hand. And neither did she want to. He felt just as magnificent in his physical form as he had last night. And she started to feel just as aroused as she’d been on the etheric plane. She wanted him even more now, remembering what they’d shared not long ago.

  “You laugh, wife, but look what you’re doing to me. I am not a patient man and will not wait much longer. Do not think I haven’t heard the gossip amongst not only my men but the commoners this morning. You know as well as I their information is inaccurate as to why I left the bedchamber. I won’t be made a fool of by my own wife. No Pendragon has ever been demeaned by a woman. I will be back in the bedchamber this evening and I want you willing to receive me. I won’t be refused again!”

  He pushed her away, gathered his cloak around him and left the mews in a hurry.

  She stood there, trembling, looking at her hand. She couldn’t believe what he’d just done. His vibrations ran through her and she couldn’t stop her body from shaking. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her, and it scared her. Making love with him while out of her body was one thing. Making love with The Dragon on a physical level was something she was not ready for at all.

  THE DRAGON AND THE DREAMWALKER

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Drake lowered his visor and steadied his lance, trying to prepare his mind for the practice joust. Gollimer pranced nervously beneath him, and Asad waited on his own horse across the field. The heralder sounded the horn, and Drake dug his heels into Gollimer’s sides.

  Asad came charging toward him, lance at the ready. Drake lunged forward in the saddle, forcing all his pent up emotions for Brynn into his charge. Lances clashed and wood splintered on contact. He managed to break Asad’s lance, but not unseat him. He lined up for another pass while Asad’s broken lance was replaced by an eager page.

  His squire was much too skilled for his position and Drake knew he had to start training another squire soon. Asad was overdue for becoming a knight. As much as Drake counted on his service, he could hold back the bronze-skinned man no longer.

  “Are you ready?” called the heralder.

  Drake nodded. On his command, he once again charged Gollimer forward, but this time his mind wasn’t on the joust. Through the narrow slit in the visor he spied Brynn dressed in one of his tunics. Bare legs showing, she made her way towards the lists with the man called Calais right behind her.

  “I will beat you this time,” shouted Asad just before he smashed his lance into Drake’s chest plate. Drake tried to defend, but it was too late. He was thrust out of the saddle and thrown to the ground. He tore off his helm and threw it across the practice yard in frustration.

  “My lord?” asked Asad, watching him carefully.

  “You are ready for knighthood,” stated Drake getting to his feet. “I can no longer practice when I’m so distracted.” He brushed the dust from his hands.

  “Distracted?” Asad looked around, spying Brynn making her way toward them. “Ah, distracted. I will leave you to your distractions, my lord.”

  “No. Stay here. I want you to find a man to start training as my squire.”

  Brynn waved and ducked under the lists, making her way out to the practice yard. Calais followed with a smile on his face. Drake noticed the rest of his knights in the practice yard looking in their direction.

  He felt his anger rising already. Why was his wife with another man, and dressed in naught but a tunic? This didn’t fare well with him at all.

  “Egads! What does she think she’s doing?”

  “Remember, she is your wife,” warned Asad.

  “How could I forget?”

  He made his way toward her in large, angry strides. The previously sunny sky turned cloudy above him. No wife of his was going to traipse around a practice field full of men dressed like that. She would have to be reprimanded for her actions. She had to learn her place as lady of the castle.

  “What do you think you’re doing dressed like that?” he growled.

  She looked down to the overly large tunic. Straightening the rope belt around her waist, she answered.

  “I didn’t have any clothing proper for practicing. I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed this old thing.”

  That old thing, as she referred to it, was one of his best tunics. He saved it for special occasions, but then again there weren’t many of those lately so it probably didn’t matter.

  “Practicing what?” he asked, afraid he already knew the answer.

  “Why sword play and jousting of course. I think it is good for a woman to be able to defend herself. Especially with the dragon out and about.”

  “If you’re referring to Dracus, I’ll protect you from him. If you’re referring to the dragon’s son, then I don’t believe I can help you.”

  Their eyes interlocked and he thought he saw a new spark of life in her gaze. Something that hadn’t been there before. Something had changed since yesterday. He could feel it in her presence, in her smile. She seemed happy - satisfied in a way, but he didn’t know why. All he knew was that after those dreams last night he was feeling more restless than ever.

  “I’ve offered to help her train.” The man called Calais pushed forward proudly, sword in his hand.

  “Brynn, what is the meaning of this?”

  “Calais wants to be one of your knights,” she said. “He’s . . . very good. I thought he could help me.”

  “I don’t need any more knights, and especially not of your choosing.” He looked over to Calais and continued t
alking. “I do not want you so near my wife again.”

  Drake grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the seedy little man, wondering why Brynn had taken such a liking to him. He had tried his best to catch her eye, without avail, yet this man seemed to hold some sort of power over her. He didn’t understand it, or like it in the least.

  Brynn looked back as they walked across the practice yard. “I really think you should consider training him as one of your men.”

  “He is neither fit to be trained as a knight, nor of noble blood. I fail to see why you would even suggest it.”

  “I . . . just give him a chance, Drake. Please?”

  She looked at him with eyes that could have melted him down into a puddle at her feet. She had never asked him for anything before and he didn’t want to turn her down. He wanted to catch her eye and was so frustrated that at that moment he probably would have agreed to anything to do it.

  “Shall I see if he’s any good with a sword?” asked Asad from atop his horse.

  “Oh, I am,” Calais assured him, following them across the field.

  Drake glanced down at the man’s hand. Two fingers of his left hand were missing. “I can see that,” he commented. The man shoved his maimed hand behind his back.

  “You did say you’d be in need of a squire soon, my lord,” Asad reminded him with a ridiculous grin on his face.

  “Thank you so much for reminding me.” He would have to reprimand Asad later for taking the side of his wife in this cruel jest. “But I’m afraid no one could fill your shoes, Asad. Besides, the positions of squire and knight are reserved for nobility. He’s not a son of a nobleman. He’s only a commoner.”

  “Please, my lord?” Brynn cooed again. “For me?”

  “Yes, my lord,” Asad nodded and motioned toward Brynn. “For your wife?”

  Drake shook his head at Asad trying to send him a silent warning that he didn’t appreciate any of this. He let out an exasperated breath. He didn’t know why it meant so much to Brynn that he train this man as one of his warriors, but if it made her attitude warmer to him, than so be it. He didn’t want to spend another night alone in the mews. He would do whatever it took to gain his wife’s favors.