“We need courageous and daring spies, my husband, to bring us news of their numbers and locations. If one band of raiders counts more than fifty, there must be hundreds of Vikings in Logris. We must do as you did before—separate and conquer them a band at a time. If they are allowed to join forces against us…” Alysa shuddered and did not finish her distressing statement.
To relax his anxious wife, Gavin suggested, “Let us wait for our retainers to arrive before we talk more on this depressing matter. There is nothing we can do or decide today. Teague needs rest and nourishment.” He summoned Piaras, the trainer of castle knights, and ordered the man to send for their vassals. Leitis, Piaras’s wife and head castle servant, was called to prepare food and lodgings for Teague.
Alysa and Gavin were left alone when Teague excused himself to check on Thisbe his wife and Piaras departed to carry out his ruler’s command. Gavin slipped his arms around his wife and whispered, “Do not be afraid, m’love. I will allow no harm to come to you.”
Alysa looked up into his smiling face and witnessed his love and desire for her. Their bond was a powerful one and nothing could destroy it. Easing to her tiptoes, she sealed their lips in a heady kiss. As always, passion’s flames and tingles swept over her and she clung to him, refusing to think of any intrusion by fate or a visitor. She felt his arms tighten about her slender frame and perceived his possessive grip on her heart and body.
As his lips roamed her flushed face, he disclosed ardently, “While I am gone, I will make certain you are guarded and protected. When I return victoriously, we shall have a large feast to celebrate.”
Alysa tensed in his embrace. She leaned back to gaze into his eyes. “Nay, my husband, I cannot remain here while you battle our foes. I must ride with you and the others. Piaras has trained me well, so I can fight beside any man. A ruler always rides into combat with his knights and warriors. I can do no less because I am a woman. Did I not prove myself a skilled fighter only weeks ago?”
“This is different,” Gavin protested in a gentle tone. “In days past, you used your wits and daring. In the battles awaiting us, warrior skills and strengths will be required. You are not strong enough to fight men. You are needed here to hold our people together, to keep them from losing faith. You will be safe at home.”
Alysa knew that Gavin—as most men—was raised to think of women as wives and mothers, creatures who were born to please and serve men. Perhaps he had not realized she was different; she was a royal regent. She was a leader, not a follower; she was a commander, not an obeyer. Trosdan’s warning flashed through her troubled mind. She had to make her husband understand her position and agree with it. “One day I will be queen of two lands, Gavin. If I cannot protect my people and ride with them into the jaws of peril, I am not a worthy ruler. Being wise and just while sitting in the lap of safety is not enough to hold their allegiance. I must prove I am strong, cunning, and valiant in the midst of danger. My warriors will be filled with greater courage if their regent is riding and fighting with them. To face such odds and perils, they will need this added courage.”
Her words did not persuade him. He shook his head and stated firmly, “This is foolhardy, m’love. I cannot let you go.”
“I must,” she argued just as resolutely. “I am the ruler of this land. I cannot allow a warrior, even a prince, from another kingdom to lead my people in my place. It is my duty.”
Gavin was concerned over her determination. He did not wish to be forceful and stern with his gentle wife, but he would do so if necessary to halt her wild plans. He could not permit Princess Alysa to play warrior for any reason. How could he and the others concentrate if they were distracted by protecting her? How could he imperil his love? “I am your husband and joint ruler of your lands. My wishes must be honored. You have many talents, m’love, but you are not a soldier. Our enemies will laugh if we go into battle with a delicate woman riding before us. You could be injured or slain. What then of our warriors’ courage? What of their safety with their thoughts turned on defending their ruler?”
Alysa’s gaze roamed the stubborn set of her husband’s jaw, the scowl lines on his forehead, and the determination in his green eyes. His dark-blond hair with its sunny streaks rested on his shoulders, shoulders whose size revealed the strength and prowess in his six-foot-four-inch frame. His well-toned and strong body was proof of the practice and exercise he participated in each day with Piaras and the other knights. Yet those steely muscles were covered by smooth flesh of golden brown, flesh which tantalized her when pressed against her silky skin.
Alysa tried another path to reach him. She revealed, “Trosdan has warned me of these dark times before us. He told me of Teague’s coming. He has read the Runes which say I am to lead our people into battle. If I do not, all is lost. I cannot yield to your fears for my life.”
The prince realized she was serious and not to be swayed easily. Although it was distasteful to him, Gavin knew he had to be slightly dishonest to discourage her from what he considered a wild and dangerous idea. He tenderly chided, “It is only superstition, m’love. Marks upon broken stones cannot foretell the future or control it. The only real magic lies within ourselves, Alysa, within our hearts and minds. Do not allow an old man’s dreams and words to misguide you and to cause great trouble and conflict between us and in our land.”
Alysa frowned. “You did not feel or speak this way weeks ago when Trosdan and Giselde’s predictions came true.”
“That was only coincidence, perhaps clever insight or good judgment. Your grandmother is gone now, wed to King Bardwyn and living in Cambria. Forget her curious ways, and those of the old Druid’s. Our warriors cannot follow and obey two leaders. Would you have me stand aside while you try to guide them? I am trained and experienced in such matters. You are not. You have only lived nineteen summers and I have lived twenty-seven. You have enjoyed peace here, but I have roamed the world and battled countless dangers. If you insist on leading our forces, they will be confused and disgruntled. Think of what is best for all, Alysa. Do not let your pride destroy us.”
“Was it coincidence that my grandmother removed the royal tattoo upon your chest?” Alysa argued, referring to the custom of staining royal symbols on the bodies of highborn men with a woad dye which was supposed to be permanent. Yet Giselde had magically removed Gavin’s to conceal his royal rank during their war against Isobail, and that was why Alysa had not guessed his identity during their intimate relationship. Since that day, it had been replaced.
“It was a trick, m’love. Giselde is well acquainted with plants and herbs. I do not deny her skills in nature, but she is not a powerful sorceress. If I was learned in such matters, I am sure I could explain how they perform their spells and deeds. There are many secrets and powers in nature, but that does not make the knower of such things able to do more than use them. It is people’s fears or desires which make them believe in such powers and enchanters. Trust me, m’love; Giselde did not perform magic on me, nor on others.”
“If I refuse my destiny, we will be conquered.”
Gavin caressed her cheek. “Your destiny is to be my obedient and cherished wife, the mother of Britain’s future rulers. We have need of several sons to sit upon the thrones of Cambria, Damnonia, and Cumbria. Remain here in safety where my seeds can grow within you and fulfill our true destiny while I go forth to meet this challenge. Is that not enough for you, Alysa?”
Unusual anger suffused her. “I am more than a breeder of future kings and princes. You will become king of Cumbria when your father dies, but I will be queen of Cumbria and Damnonia at Grandfather’s death. I will also become queen of your land, but you can become nothing more than my consort. If Fate had wanted a king for my lands, I would have been born a son. I am not just a mere woman, Hawk of Cumbria. A great destiny awaits me as a warrior queen. I must let nothing and no one prevent me from seeking and following it.”
“Nothing and no one, Alysa? Not even me or our love or our future?” he q
uestioned. “Do you seek glory more than these precious things? Do an old man’s words mean more to you than mine?”
Price you must pay …. Put your destiny and victory above your own desires and dreams …. Was Trosdan right, would she be called upon to travel her path alone? Could she give up her love to do so? Clearly, Gavin was not going to change his mind. If she believed Trosdan and followed his advice, would her price be Gavin? And if she surrendered to Gavin’s wishes, would all be lost as Trosdan predicted? If only she had the Gift of a Seer, she would know what to do.
Gavin released her. “Your silence answers for you.”
Alysa grasped his arm and protested, “I love you with all my heart, Gavin Crisdean. Glory means nothing to me. But there is more to consider than our love and desires. My land has been invaded and I have my duty. There are things I as a ruler must do, even if it endangers my life. I beg you, do not force me to choose between my love and my country.”
There was an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes and tone as he asserted, “Your choice was made even before we spoke. You will do as you wish, no matter my words or feelings. I cannot agree with you, so we waste our breath discussing this further. Think more on your decision and we will talk tonight. I must go order spies to the Logris border. We want no more surprise attacks before we are ready to strike.”
Gavin left Alysa standing in the Great Hall. He hoped a show of anger and coolness would dissaude her. Once she realized how impossible it was for her to ride into battle, he would become himself again. Perhaps a lusty bout of lovemaking tonight would clear her head—or cloud it with thoughts of only him. He grinned in anticipation of how he would master his wayward wife.
Alysa leaned against a towering pillar of stone. Suddenly she felt weary and dispirited. Trosdan’s final warning returned to haunt her:
“The Hawk of Cumbria will not fly with you on this fated journey. It is a path you must travel alone. Do not fear, for I will be at your side to aid and protect you. The prince will not understand or accept what you must do to win this victory. For a time, he will seek his own fate along a different path and you will rule alone.”
Gavin, whose name meant hawk, was dearly loved by her. Could she risk losing him, after having him only a short time? Would he desert her if she refused to bend to his will? He was so strong and proud yet so gentle. He had helped her win the last battle to save her land. Why could he not do so again? He was her husband, but this was her land. He was practically a stranger here. Surely the Dam-nonians would follow her before following him. Was there hope?
“… But there is hope. If you yield to your destiny, he will not be lost forever. He is a warrior of great prowess and you are a bride of destiny. You have seized the magic of love which runs undaunted through the ages. Beneath a conqueror’s moon, my warrior queen, you will again bind this man’s soul and heart to yours with gyves of love and with this sacred ring of desire. By love enchanted, you shall rule side by side and love forever … if you follow your fate. If you do not, even I cannot save you.”
Two
Alysa prepared herself for bed without the assistance of her current handmaiden. She had missed Thisbe. The young princess was happy to have Thisbe and Teague back at the castle, but she hated the situation which had driven them here. She and Thisbe had spent many days together—sharing knowledge and secrets, enjoying pleasures, enduring pains, and growing into womanhood. The friendship between princess and servant had been a very close and unique one. Alysa knew that Thisbe could be trusted with all things, even with her life, as could Teague.
In the privy where bathing and other personal tasks were carried out to avoid disorder in the adjoining royal chambers, the blue-eyed princess stepped from the circular wooden tub and dried herself. After slipping into a soft kirtle, she brushed her hair. As she relaxed, her mind wandered to dreamy places. So much had changed since Prince Gavin Crisdean had entered her life several months ago—a mysterious and irresistible warrior. Tonight she must prove her love to her new husband, although it should not be necessary.
She and Gavin needed more time to get to know each other fully. Their romance had been swift and passionate. It had been surrounded by perils and mysteries, and plagued by doubts and fears. Her grandfather, King Bardwyn, had suggested their hasty wedding, and neither she nor Gavin had refused. They had been married for only six weeks, too few days and nights for becoming one person. Before then, separately they had battled the same foe, while meeting secretly in the royal forest to savor intimate moments. During most of their times together, she had not known he was the Prince of Cumbria and he had not known she was Princess Alysa. Both had used secret identities which had caused them much suffering. She had believed him to be a common warrior from a foreign land and he had believed her to be a castle servant, and each had believed neither could wed the other because of their royal ranks. How happy the day had been when each had discovered the other’s matching feelings and rank.
Alysa knew there was strong love and powerful desire between them. Yet in many ways, they were strangers to each other. There was so much they did not know about each other, so much to discover. Those first two weeks of feverish marriage had been easy for them, especially with the king present and the thrill of victory still fresh. They had ridden with King Bardwyn to check the countryside and to visit feudal lords and villages. Feasts and weddings had filled their days and devoured their energies. A stimulating joust had been held and many hunts and games had challenged their wits and skills. But the king had departed soon and normal life had resumed in the peaceful land.
A warrior and adventurer by choice, Gavin appeared bored with his existence in the castle. He was unaccustomed to living quietly, to enduring the daily tasks of a ruler, to seeking ways to entertain and exercise himself, to spending his time and passions with one woman. He was a man accustomed to challenges, to constant movement, to rapid changes, to feasting on perils and victories and on life’s varied pleasures. Except for lovemaking, there had been little excitement and stimulation for him since the defeat of Isobail, Moran, and the brigands who had been terrorizing her land.
Following the departure of King Bardwyn and Giselde weeks ago, Gavin had placed his friends in control of certain areas and positions which had been left vacant by the deaths of friends and traitors. Dal, their new sheriff, and Lann, his second in command, traveled the principality maintaining law and order. Weylin and Keegan had been made lords of two feudal estates previously owned by Sir Kelton and Sheriff Trahern. Bevan was in love with a farmer’s daughter and spent most of his time romancing her. With his friends gone, Gavin had little to do and few diversions. The princess’s husband, as joint ruler, could not visit or travel with his friends and leave the castle deserted. Hunting and exercise could only claim so many hours. Gavin was unaccustomed to being alone and to having so much leisure time. He missed the comradeship of his friends and the thrills of their stimulating adventures. Solving the problems of subjects offered no challenge to him. Alysa knew he was bored and restless. But what to do? she wondered. Gavin only saw her as a lover, a woman, his wife. How could she teach him that she was so much more?
During their meeting with Sir Teague this afternoon, she had witnessed the sparkle in Gavin’s eyes, the eagerness in his voice, the tension in his body. He had been hearing of the raids in Logris and Albany, presenting a new challenge to occupy his time and wits and to test his prowess, and a reason to call his friends back together. With the challenge of the invasion, he seemed more vital today than he had in weeks. He did not want anything or anyone to prevent this new adventure. Could Alysa allow this peril to destroy all she loved and ruled by yielding to her husband’s wishes? Clearly, he was looking forward to battling their enemies, to outwitting clever foes, to pushing invaders out of their land, but without her help or intrusion.
Gavin had anticipated a visit by his father and mother, King Briac and Queen Brenna of Cumbria. But Viking raids in nearby Albany and Logris had postponed their journey, their rec
ent message had claimed. With hopes of learning more about Gavin and providing him with a much needed distraction, Alysa had been eager for his parents’ arrival. She was especially eager to meet the man who had been her mother’s first love, the neighboring prince who had sacrificed Catriona for his rank and who had once rescued her mother from a Viking raid in Albany. Alysa wanted to see if Gavin was anything like his parents. She wanted to discover what kind of man Briac was, what kind of man chose his royal duty over his true love.
As Alysa brushed her long brown hair, she thought about the two friends who had arrived earlier today. Teague and Thisbe were settled in the visitors’ chambers, resting and recovering from their ordeal. She tried to envision the battle at Lord Daron’s castle, and could not without remembering how Lord Daron had been slain during Isobail’s reign of evil. Sir Teague had been appointed to take care of Daron’s feudal lands until Daron’s sons—who were squires in training at other castles—came of age to take control of them. Now, Gweneth and her two daughters were captives of the invading Norsemen. What, she wondered sadly, was happening to the Damnonian women? What were their fates? Could they be located and rescued? It was dreadful to think of such offensive captivity.
Alysa tried vainly to put a face to the Viking conqueror whom Teague had described. Strong features, a handsome face, white-blond hair, and a muscular body filled her mind’s eye. Would she ever meet this man? Would she be able to defeat him as the old wizard had predicted?
The Last Viking Queen Page 2
