“Then let me get it. Hold on to one of my arms only.”
“But, my lady.”
“Do it!”
He did as she’d instructed, freeing up one of her arms. She grabbed for his sword, but couldn’t get it out of the scabbard at that angle. The dragon reached out with his other claw but missed her. She reached up and grabbed Asad’s dagger this time, using it to sever her dress just before the dragon’s head cleared the water.
Asad pulled her to safety, drawing his sword. The dragon reared up before them.
“Nay, Asad. Do not strike it.”
“But I must protect you,” he shouted, raising his sword.
“Then take me from this cave at once.”
She grabbed his hand and started to run. Asad lowered his sword and followed.
As they cleared the mouth of the cave, Brynn heard Gollimer neighing and the sound of his hooves as he tried to get free from the tree to which he was tied.
“Forget the fire and the meal,” Brynn told him. “Get on your horse. We’re getting out of here.”
“I agree,” said Asad, helping Brynn atop Gollimer and then jumping onto his own steed. “To risk a horse twisting an ankle is the lesser of two evils. If anything happens to you, my lady, Drake will have my head.”
They took off down the mountain without having to lead the horses. Gollimer was so spooked nothing was going to stop him from running in the dark. Brynn was spooked as well. Something happened in the cave tonight she didn’t understand. All she wanted to do was to get back to Thorndale Castle and wrap herself in Drake’s arms. Once she was there, she would never leave his side again.
THE DRAGON AND THE DREAMWALKER
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Brynn pushed open the door to her bedchamber, nearly losing her balance in the process. Asad was right behind her, helping to keep her upright. She felt dizzy and light-headed, as if she hadn’t slept in a week. Her strength was drained from her contact with the water in the pool. She’d been submerged dangerously long. Water was her enemy. She needed to restore her strength before she collapsed, but not before she saw to Drake’s needs.
“Lady Brynn!” Juturna rushed to her side, grabbing her around the waist. Between Asad and Juturna, they managed to get her to the bed before her legs gave out. “Why did you travel in the dark? What happened?”
“How is he?” she asked, keeping her eyes on Drake. He still lay there, not moving at all. The color had returned to his face, but he still looked weak.
“She had a scare at the cave.” Asad provided the information. “We decided ’twas better to travel in the dark rather than to face whatever it was that attacked her.”
“Attacked her?”
“’Twas a dragon. A hideous dragon,” Asad explained. “It rose right out of the water trying to pull her under.”
“’Twas him. It had to be,” mumbled Juturna.
“My pardons?” asked Asad, obviously not understanding.
“Enough about me,” Brynn said in a half whisper. She felt herself slipping away from the conversation. “How are Drake’s wounds? Has he opened his eyes yet?”
Juturna sat next to Brynn on the bed, taking the pouch of herbs from her hands.
“His wounds are just about healed. With the supply you brought, I can honestly say he’ll be back to normal soon. They are powerful herbs. They work well against dragon wounds. Besides, Drake is a very fast healer. A trait of a true Pendragon.”
“Has he said anything?” asked Brynn, struggling for breath. “Has he asked for me?”
By the look on the healer’s face, Brynn knew it wasn’t going to be the answer she wanted to hear.
“He hasn’t even stirred, my lady. I’m afraid I don’t know what else to do.”
“He’ll be fine,” Brynn said, grabbing Drake’s hand in hers, trying to squeeze it, but not able to maintain a grip. Her fingers trembled and her vision blurred. “He’s got to be. I won’t let it be otherwise.” She felt cold, oh so cold. Her teeth chattered and her muscles twitched. She needed to restore her energy. She looked over to the fire at the hearth. She needed to tell Juturna to bring her to the fire.
“You need to rest,” said Juturna, pushing Brynn back into the pillows.
“Nay,” she said, with every ounce of energy. “I need - ” her breath became shallow and she was unable to continue. She felt her eyes roll back in her head as the room grew foggy around her. Her fall into the pool of water had drained her energy. She needed to get to the fire. The fire was her strength. Drake was the only one who truly understood it, and he wasn’t going to be able to help her. She needed the fire.
“She’s sleeping,” said Asad, and she was unable to even move a muscle to prove to him it wasn’t true.
“She looks worse than Drake,” added Juturna. “I don’t know what happened up on that mountain, but whatever it was, it drained her of life.”
“Can you help her?”
“I can’t help her if I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She’ll rest at Drake’s side now, and I only hope to the heavens they won’t both die together in this bed.”
That’s all Brynn remembered before drifting off into a world somewhere between awake and dreaming.
* * *
Drake walked the battlements, waiting for Brynn to come. He’d been waiting for her for three nights now, or was it four? He’d lost track of time. But yet, Brynn was nowhere to be found. He paced back and forth in the dark, all alone as usual. He didn’t feel the pain anymore from the dragon’s sharp claws, but something was wrong. He’d felt it, but yet didn’t know what it was that made him come to this conclusion. He’d waited for her in the mews, in the garden and now on the battlements, but she didn’t come.
His hand went to the hilt of his sword as a form of comfort, as he always did when concern overtook him. There was no sword to be found. He looked down and realized he was walking the battlements naked. That’s when he knew the reason she didn’t come. This wasn’t real. This was what Brynn had called the dreamwalking state. He was dreamwalking and not in his physical body. He wondered how long it’d been since he’d been physically awake. The last thing he remembered was Dracus carrying him through the sky, and Brynn screaming from below.
Had the dragon killed him? Was he in the bowels of dragon at this very moment, charred and broken and being digested? He was no longer sure he was even alive. He remembered being angry with Brynn, but he didn’t know why. Like she’d said, nothing mattered on this plane. One could do as they wished, and grudges were not held. He didn’t care why he’d been angry with his wife. He wanted her with him. He wanted to feel her in his arms again.
“She can’t come to you unless you call her, Drake.”
He turned to find Juturna standing atop the merlon, not at all concerned with falling over the edge.
“Where is she, old seer? Why doesn’t she come to meet me as she usually does?”
“She’s lying at your side as she’s been doing for the last four days. Her body is weaker than yours right now. She’s had a bout with your father. The dragon almost consumed her.”
“Nay! Tell me ’tis not true.”
“She needs you as much as you need her. If you call her, she may hear you and come to your side. You must work together, or neither of you will heal.”
Then Juturna was gone as quickly as she’d appeared. Drake ran to the merlon and looked over the edge at the churning sea below. What had his father done to Brynn? After Dracus carried him away, did he come back for her?
“Brynn,” he said. “My love, I hope you’re all right.”
Then he looked over the sea, his heart feeling heavy and empty.
“Bryyynnn!” he shouted, sinking to his knees, face in his hands. Did his own failed attempt to slay Dracus cost her her life?”
“I’m here,” came a soft voice from behind him. He felt her hand on his shoulder and covered it with his own. He turned and saw Brynn, as naked as he, falling into his arms.
She was pale a
nd weak, and he had to hold her from falling. He wrapped her in the warmth of his arms and kissed her atop her head.
“I feared for you, my lady. When you did not come, I thought Dracus had consumed you.”
“I am here, my lord. I am your wife. I find comfort and strength in the warmth of your arms.”
He kissed her lips, tasting their sweetness like the nectar of a flower, he the bee drawn to her essence. She laid her head against his chest and whispered into the air.
“Make love to me, husband. I want to be your wife.”
“We have made love. You are my wife.”
Her eyes met his, and he saw a need within them. A longing to be one with him, to share their beings in an act of love.
“I’m not speaking of our dreamwalking, husband. I want you to make love to me while we’re physical. I need to feel you within me. I need to know you’re my husband and not just a dream.”
Drake gasped for breath and sat upright, looking around the darkened room. The embers glowed red on the dying hearth. The room was cold, and he was alone. Or so he thought. He heard a slight whimper and realized Brynn lay next to him on the bed. The moonlight shone through the open window, moonbeams making her hair glow like an angel. He ran a finger down her cheek, reveling in the softness of her skin. He placed a kiss on her lips, but noticed she did not waken.
He sat upright, heart pounding wildly. Hadn’t Juturna said she was ill? She looked so peaceful in sleep, he wasn’t sure she wasn’t already gone from this world. He pulled back the covers and realized her body was naked, as was his. Her skin was pale, and beautiful, but it lacked the vibrancy of life.
Her eyes flickered then, and he released a nervous breath. Her eyes opened, meeting his instantly. ’Twas almost as if she knew he’d been watching her.
“You remember, don’t you?” she spoke in a frail voice. She wet her lips with her tongue and took very shallow breaths.
“Aye. As do you.”
“I have a feeling you remember every time we’ve dreamwalked together.”
When she said that, he did. Every time they were together, every kiss they’d shared, every caress. It was as if it’d really happened.
“Did you mean what you said, Brynn?”
She looked at him and nodded. “I come willingly to you, my lord. I shan’t push you away again. I long to know how it feels to be your wife.”
He saw a shiver wrack her body, and he jumped up and closed the shutters on the window, keeping out the cool night air. His body groaned in protest, his legs wobbly beneath him, and he grabbed the bedpost on his return to steady himself. He looked down to his chest, eyeing the stitches he knew Juturna was responsible for administering. The wounds from the dragon had healed nicely, but he was still far from being as strong as he should be. He no longer felt the pain, only concern for his wife. He took a fur coverlet off the bed and wrapped it around her, pulling her up to a sitting position.
“I can’t make love to you, Brynn. Not when you’re this frail.”
She managed to smile, and Drake knew it took every bit of her energy to do it. “My, how the tables have turned. Now you are the one refusing me.”
“’Tis not that I don’t want to, Brynn. You know that’s the truth.”
“I need you, Drake. We’ve both waited too long for this, and know it’s time we consummate our marriage.”
“That’s true, but - ”
“I said I need you, Drake.”
Her words embedded themselves upon his soul. The woman who said she’d never need a man was saying she needed him, and he wanted to do everything in his power to give her what she wanted. Still, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t be hurting her in the process.
“I did wrong by not protecting you from my father. How can you forgive me for not being there for you?”
“How can you forgive me for planning to take Thorndale Castle away from you? Or for not telling you about Calais?”
“I understand why you’d want to regain your father’s castle, though I don’t approve of your method. But why did you couple with Calais, Brynn? Were you in love with him?”
It took all the strength she had to laugh, as though his words amused her.
“I gave up my virginity to save myself from the dragon, my lord. I despise Calais. You are the one I love.”
“You try to save yourself from the dragon, but yet you’re surrendering your love to me now.”
“Yes, Dragon’s Son. I am yours. Now bring me to the hearth and stoke the fire. I need to regain my energy so I can consummate our marriage properly.”
Drake did as she asked. In a few minutes he had her propped up on the rug, very close to the raging fire.
“Move me closer to the flames,” she told him. “I need the fire to regain my strength.”
“Any closer and that coverlet will go up in flame.”
“Then I’d best remove it, shan’t I?”
He watched as she dropped the coverlet and moved closer to the fire. She reached into the flames, rejuvenating herself in the warmth. He’d never seen anything like it. The flames lapped at her face, her hair, her arms, yet she didn’t burn. He kept wanting to pull her away, but the look in her eyes warned him not to do it.
The color returned to her cheeks and the glow to her eyes. She breathed in the flames and seemed to become one with them. She rubbed her arms and then her legs, stretching and moving slowly, coming to life a little at a time. Then she pushed back from the fire and opened her arms wide to him in a form of acceptance. Her rosy tipped nipples were soft and large, her breasts turned up in a perky way. Her stomach was flat, her hips rounded with a soft curve. Her body looked delectable and he felt himself hardening at the thought of taking her. The thought of truly making her his.
“Come to me, wife.”
At his command, she rose and walked to him, though he still sat upon the carpet. He carefully reached for her hips, running his hands along her thighs and then back to her buttocks, pulling her closer to his face. He tasted her then, and her knees buckled beneath her as she steadied her hands on his shoulders falling into him with a moan of pleasure. He lay back on the carpet, bringing her with him. Her breathing deepened as his lips found their way to swirl in her navel and trail up to her breasts, tasting them one at a time. Her back arched, her head thrown back in ecstasy. His tongue flicked and licked, tasting every bit of the woman that was his.
“Yes,” she moaned. “This is how it should be.”
She straddled his lap and his swelling manhood and trailed her fingers gently down his chest, following the jagged scars. Her lips followed, kissing each and every one of his wounds. He squeezed his eyes closed at the erotic way she squirmed atop him, no longer aware of any discomfort from his stitches or bruises. When she got below his waist he could hold back no more. He pulled her to him, and rolled atop her in one motion, entering his wife and becoming one.
Joined together, they rode the waves of the sea and flew the vast openness of the sky. Their bodies rocked in motion, their mouths pressed together with tongues dancing in rhythm, they consummated their marriage and finally became man and wife in their physical forms.
Spent and exhausted, he rolled over and dragged Brynn atop. She was replenished from the fire and rode him again, bringing Drake to another height so quickly, he thought for a moment he must still be dreamwalking. Then she lay her head gently against him, his arms wrapped protectively around her.
“You are now my wife in every way,” he told her.
“As you are my husband, my lord.”
“I love you, Brynn. I never thought I’d say the words as long as I lived, but now I know I was wrong not to say them sooner. I love you with my heart and soul.”
“Then mayhap ’tis not too late.”
“I don’t understand. Of what do you speak?”
“I’m speaking of your father.”
His body went rigid all of a sudden. He didn’t want to think about his father at a time like this.
“I don’t w
ant to spoil our moment together. His name will not be mentioned again until I say so.”
“As you wish, my lord husband. But we need to talk soon. Your life as well as mine depends upon it.”
THE DRAGON AND THE DREAMWALKER
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
A week passed quickly, and Drake and Brynn had spent most their time in bed. Making love should have been exhausting, but Drake realized it gave them both the strength and endurance they needed to heal. But time was wasting, and Drake knew he needed to confront the men in the dungeon who had betrayed him.
He walked to the dungeon, Brynn following quickly at his heels, the swish of her soft shoes reminding him this was no place for a lady. A guard nodded to him and opened the barred door. A rat ran by, and Brynn jumped out of the way with a squeal, holding on to Drake’s arm.
“Brynn, this is no place for you. Go back and wait for me in the great hall.”
“Nay, my lord. I’ve been to the dungeon many times when Thorndale belonged to my father. I’ll not be denied the same opportunity now that I’m your wife.”
“Hardly an opportunity,” he grunted. “All that’s here is stench and death.”
“I will not change my mind, lord husband. I will remain at your side.”
Drake knew arguing with her was fruitless. Sending her away would only make her ill-tempered. They’d gotten along so well for the last week, he hardly wanted to chance her disposition.
“As you wish,” he said and entered through the doorway, leading down the stone steps to the prisoners. Brynn held onto his sleeve, keeping up with his pace. The stench was putrid, but he didn’t hear Brynn complain once. Water dripped through cracks in the stone walls, and rats gnawed on bones in the corners. Moans from the men wailed off the walls, and he could feel Brynn’s fingers tighten on his sleeve.
“You can still retreat, my lady.”
“I’ll see the prisoners now,” she said with a raised chin. Torches flickered on the walls, and a guard moved forward to greet them, keys jangling on a ring connected to his belt as he walked.
Tall, Dark, and Medieval Page 45
