tales of the latter kingdom 08 - moon dance

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tales of the latter kingdom 08 - moon dance Page 14

by Christine Pope


  There I finally let out a breath. Was it luck or a spell that had guided me thus far? And if it was only luck, how long would it hold? Could I be sure of reaching Reynar safely?

  I supposed there was only one way to know for sure. I put my hand on the latch, and let myself out into the night.

  CHAPTER 10

  Even as I hurried out the door and into the kitchen garden, I kept expecting to hear a voice halting me and calling me back — Linsey, the cook, or perhaps the dignified Alister, my uncle’s steward, who kept a tight rein on the household and who never seemed to overlook much of anything.

  But apparently he missed me, or there truly had been another spell cast to keep everyone asleep, for I was able to disappear into the fields without anyone apparently noticing my departure. Overhead, the moon floated bright and nearly round, lighting my way. If anyone had been watching from the castle, they could not have helped seeing me, but all remained still as I hastened down the between the waves of barley and rye, their stalks rustling with the night wind.

  At last I came to the stream, and took off my slippers so I might wade across in my favorite spot to ford the waters. No sooner had I paused on the forest side than I heard Reynar’s voice, sounding somewhat resigned.

  “I thought you would come tonight.” He emerged from behind a tree, the moonlight making a halo of his silvery hair.

  “Did I not tell you I would?”

  “Yes, but when the girls were not summoned to dance….” Stopping there, he reached out a hand to help me up a rocky part of the path.

  Grateful, I took his fingers, let him steady me as I clambered up to stand next to him. Here was also a fallen log, on which was spread the same thin wool blanket he had used the night before. I cast a questioning glance at it and thought on what he had just said. “So there truly was no spell cast tonight?”

  “No.” He went over to the log but then waited, clearly not planning to sit down until I did.

  I didn’t bother to argue, but took my place on the log and sat, even as I pulled the shawl I wore more closely about myself. “So why did the mage not summon my cousins and Janessa to dance?”

  “It is your cousin Adalynn’s wedding day tomorrow. He did not think it fair to bring her out and have her be weary for such a special event. I suppose you can consider that his wedding present to her.”

  “That is — ” I broke off then, for I was about to say that it was very kind of him, but truly a kinder thing would have been not to cast the spell in the first place. However, as I did not think that a most politic statement, and because I was not sure how Reynar would react to such a remark, I thought it best to avoid the subject. Instead, I ventured, “But it seemed so easy for me to leave the castle tonight, even with so many guests staying there — ”

  “Oh, well.” Reynar gave a deprecating shrug and said, “That was my doing. Actually, I have always cast the sleep spells, so my master could save his energy for the greater workings.”

  Since I did not have a great deal of knowledge of how magic actually worked, I merely nodded. “But why did you cast the sleep spell if you knew that my cousins would not be summoned?”

  “Because I knew you would come here, no matter what.”

  He made this reply with such a wry twist of his lips that I could not help chuckling a little. “You’ve known me for such a short time, and yet you can predict my movements so easily?”

  The smile he wore dimmed somewhat. His silver-bright eyes suddenly seemed quite fierce. “Yes, it would seem so. I feel as if we have become friends.”

  Friends. That was all I wanted from Mayson, and yet I wished for much more with Reynar. I supposed that made me a fool. Voice flat, I said, “Yes, I think we are friends.”

  “And that does not please you?”

  “Of course it does.” I hesitated then, glancing away from him so I might pretend to look upward at the moonlight shimmering through the leaves overhead. “It’s just that I’ve encountered one lately who seems to have a very different idea of friendship.”

  Since I was not looking at him, I could not see Reynar’s face, but something about the way he shifted as he sat on the log next to me seemed to indicate a certain tension. “Indeed? And who might that be?”

  “Lord Mayson, the son of Earl Elwyn Bellender.”

  This time there was no mistaking the way Reynar seemed to go rigid with shock. I turned from my false contemplation of the moonlight and stared into his face, desperately trying to read something from his expression. His mouth had pressed itself into a thin line, and even in the uncertain light I could see the way the muscles of his fine jaw had gone tight.

  His reaction startled me so much that I said, “Reynar? What is it? Do you know Lord Mayson?”

  “No.” Abruptly, he pushed himself up from the log and stalked a few paces away, where he stood under the spreading branches of an ancient oak. “That is, I know of him.”

  I did not think that particularly odd. After all, the Bellender family was an ancient one, even older than my uncle’s. Anyone who had been born and raised in this province would know of them, and therefore of the young man who would one day inherit the title. But Reynar’s response had seemed rather too personal for that.

  However, because I was not sure what precisely had set him off, I said in neutral tones, “He is staying with my aunt and uncle this summer. I believe their plan was to have him marry their daughter Carella, since Lord Mayson’s original betrothed passed away unexpectedly only a few months ago.”

  Reynar didn’t react, save for raising an eyebrow ever so slightly. “From the way you speak of it, their plan does not sound as if it is going very well.”

  “No.” I hesitated, wondering whether I should stop there, guide the conversation in another direction. And yet…and yet in many of the stories I had read, it seemed as if jealousy was a very effective spur to get a young man to profess his feelings. Perhaps if I told the truth about my dealings with Mayson Bellender, Reynar would be goaded into some kind of action, or at least a declaration. “It seems that he has developed some feelings for me. I had thought we were only friends, and yet lately he has been pressing me to become his wife.”

  “Indeed?”

  Not precisely the reaction I had been hoping for, although the word sounded as if it had been forced out from between Reynar’s clenched teeth. “Yes.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  There. I saw it — or perhaps I only hoped I saw it. But I could have sworn that Reynar’s eyes flashed with sudden fire, and I could not mistake the way he stood there, his posture stiff and angry. No, he did not like this news at all, even though he probably thought he had no right to comment on it. After all, we had only known one another for a few days. We had, for the most part, spoken on neutral topics. We had come very close the night before, but an almost-kiss was certainly not enough reason to lay claim to anyone.

  “I told him that we should not be discussing such things when all is tumult because of my cousin Adalynn’s wedding, that afterward we could bring up the topic again.”

  “But surely you will say yes once the happy couple are united.”

  It was my turn to shoot Reynar an angry glance. “Do you think it is that simple? That because I am a young woman of meager birth, with no fortune to call my own, of course I will jump at the chance to be a countess?”

  Something in his expression softened, and he shook his head. “No, of course I did not mean to imply that. But surely Lord Mayson is considered to be a great prize? Forgive me — I live an isolated existence and am not familiar with the doings of noble society.”

  I could not quite tell if Reynar had meant this last pronouncement to be ironic or not. However, as I did not wish to quarrel with him, I answered as if the question had been genuine. “Yes, of course he is considered a prize. What unattached young man with wealth and a title would not be? And Lord Mayson is considered to be quite handsome, so that only adds to the attraction, I suppose.”

  “You
— you do not think he is handsome?”

  “Well….” I hesitated, then made myself look Reynar directly in the eyes. Perhaps that was insufferably bold of me, but I somehow knew I should not be dancing around the issue. We had nearly shared a kiss the night before, true, and yet I guessed he would do nothing unless I made it abundantly clear that greater intimacy was something I wanted. “I suppose some would say so. As for me, I think I prefer a man whose appearance is a little more…out of the ordinary.”

  Silence then, taut and painful. Yes, Reynar had met my gaze, was not even attempting to look away, and yet I could sense the conflict within him, the need to step forward…the worry that he had misread what I had just told him.

  Without even realizing what I was doing, I rose from the log and took a single step. Just one. I did not think I had the courage for anything more than that.

  It was enough. He also moved toward me. Closer. Closer.

  And then he stood within arm’s reach and stared down into my face. I did not know what he was looking for. I could only hope it was there, waiting to be read in my eyes.

  Apparently it was, for he raised both his hands and cupped my cheeks. His fingers were warm and strong, and something in me seemed to melt at his touch. I gazed up at him, at the beautiful outline of his lips, the heavy dark lashes that gave his silver eyes such a striking frame.

  “Iselda,” he whispered, “I should not do this.”

  I certainly was no mind reader, and yet it was easy enough to see how he fought with himself. It was time for me to put his thoughts at ease.

  “But I want you to.”

  He drew in a ragged, hitching breath, and in the next moment his mouth was touching mine, sending the most exquisite shivers all through my body. His hands moved from my face to my arms, and then I was wrapped in his embrace, feeling the strength of his form pressed against me.

  In that moment I realized I wore only a nightgown, with the most flimsy of barriers in terms of the shawl I had knotted around my shoulders. This was not like the time Mayson had kissed me, when I had been shielded by my stays and the heavy layers of my gown. Now my body felt alive in a way it never had before, thrills running through every limb, and a strange warmth growing in the very core of my being, one I could not exactly identify but was something delicious and enticing.

  Now I understood why I had been reluctant to accept Mayson’s suit, even though at the time I could not say exactly why. My reaction to his kiss, in comparison to Reynar’s, was like comparing a mild summer rain to a fierce thunderstorm. Surely this was what all the books and stories had spoken of, this spark that leaped from one person to another and set off a raging fire.

  And then Reynar ended the embrace, pulling away so he could gaze down at me. Rare color touched his high cheekbones, and I could almost feel the way his heart pounded in his chest.

  “I — I should not have taken such an advantage — ”

  “Nonsense,” I broke in, adopting a crisp, matter-of-fact tone because it seemed the best way to calm the raging beast he had awakened inside me. “I wanted you to kiss me. In fact, I have been thinking of that very thing for the past two days.”

  “Indeed?” he responded. One eyebrow went up in the ironic arch I found so oddly enticing. “From the very first moment you met me?”

  “Yes, I rather think so.”

  At once he was reaching for me again, but this time only to hold me, to run his hand over the heavy braid that fell down my back. “Oh, Iselda, you are a marvel. I had felt it as well, although I tried to tell myself over and over again that this was something I should deny myself, that you are a young woman of gentle birth and definitely not someone who should be consorting with the likes of me.”

  “‘Consorting’?” I echoed with a curl of the lip. “‘The likes of you’? I think you must have a very low opinion of yourself…and rather too high an opinion of me. For I am not of gentle birth, but merely the daughter of a merchant. My aunt is the Baroness of Mirfeld, it is true, but only because her beauty was enough to attract a man with a title, not because she was born with one. So I think we are far more equal than you have made out.”

  Reynar was silent for a moment, clearly thinking over what I had just said. When he spoke again, his voice was measured, slow, as if he forced himself to consider each word before he uttered it. “That may be true, Iselda, but I am an orphan from nowhere, in possession of powers that would have me arrested…or worse…if they were to be discovered. Even if I were free to leave my master — ”

  “About that,” I said, for I hoped now he would clarify some of the concerns that had consumed my thoughts ever since our last encounter. “What are the terms of your service with him? Surely he does not expect you to be his servant for the rest of your days? You have already spent more than a decade with him, so what else does he want?”

  My voice had hardened somewhat as I asked that last question, and I saw how Reynar’s lips thinned in response. When he replied, however, his tone was a good deal more gentle than mine.

  “Like all masters, he wants to make sure that I have sufficient control of my gifts so that I no longer require his guidance. This is not like being apprentice to a woodworker, or an ironsmith. It is not merely a matter of serving my seven years and then going forth to make my own way in the world.”

  “You certainly seem in control of your powers,” I protested. “I cannot see what else he thinks he has to teach you.”

  Reynar’s lips brushed the top of my head, and, despite my current worry, I could not help sighing somewhat at the thrill his touch evoked. “I can go to him and ask to be released. But doing so will be at his discretion. And I must abide by his decision.”

  Even though I tried to tell myself that I should be calm, that I did not want to cause an argument, I could not help saying, “I cannot understand why you would give him so much control over you.”

  At those words, Reynar let go of me and stepped back a pace. “Am I not supposed to show gratitude toward the man who took me from the orphanage and gave me a home?”

  “That’s not what I meant at all.” I took in a breath and resisted the urge to lay a hand on his arm. He looked stiff and angry, and even though we had kissed, I did not know him well enough to judge how he would interpret such a gesture. Voice softening, I went on, “Have you not shown your gratitude by doing his bidding for more than ten years? Have you ever not done as he asked?”

  These questions did not seem to move Reynar overmuch. When he spoke, he only gave me a grudging, “No.”

  “Well, then,” I said, telling myself not to be too discouraged. “If he is as wise and learned as you have hinted, then surely he must understand that there would come a time when you would wish to be free to pursue your own destiny.”

  At first Reynar did not reply. He watched me closely, though, and I could almost see the emotions flickering behind his eyes — need, and worry, and an all-too-fragile hope. In barely a whisper, he asked, “And this destiny? Does it include you?”

  I went to him and put my arms around his waist, and laid my head against his chest. “Oh, yes, Reynar. I want it to. All the gods only know how much I want that.”

  He held me tight, and kissed the top of my head. “Then I will do whatever I must.”

  And so, as simply as that, we sealed our fates together.

  No matter what happened.

  * * *

  I would have liked to stay out all night with him, but he told me I should go back to the castle and sleep as best I could. “For it is your cousin’s wedding day tomorrow, and I doubt she would be happy to have a bridesmaid who was tired, or cross, or had great dark circles under her eyes.”

  “I do not get circles,” I told him. “I never have.”

  “Ah. Well, that is good to know. But I still think it best that you go back. I will hold the sleep-spell for the next hour. I think that will be a good incentive to make sure you get back before it fades.”

  Since I knew he was only right, and becaus
e secretly I did not want to appear haggard or weary in front of all those exalted wedding guests, I did not argue, but kissed him again before I headed back toward the castle and my comfortable bed. It was something of a relief to know that I could enter the sleeping building and not have to worry about anyone catching me sneaking about. However, I did not dally, and was still careful after I had slipped through the kitchen door and was making my way back up the stairs. Only after I’d entered the room did I allow myself a quick breath of relief, right before I hung my shawl up in the wardrobe and then slid under the covers.

  A hasty glance at Janessa told me that she still slept soundly. I murmured a silent thank-you to Reynar and this particularly handy spell of his, and closed my eyes and told myself I must sleep. Already it was long past midnight, and I knew Adalynn would have us up at dawn so that no possible detail would be overlooked in the hours before the ceremony, which was set for noon.

  I did not know if it was my own will exerting itself on my body, or whether Reynar sent a small tendril of his spell to twine itself around me. I only knew that within the minute I was asleep, falling into a slumber that I hoped would be haunted with memories of his arms around me, and his lips on mine.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Get up, Iselda! I cannot believe you would lie abed, today of all days!”

  I opened one eye and saw Janessa hovering over my bed, practically dancing in impatience. As I knew she would not go away until I responded, I pushed back the covers and managed to maneuver myself into a sitting position. “Pray, tell me why you are so excited,” I said. “For I was certain this was Adalynn’s wedding day, not yours.”

  “Well, yes, it is, but you left so early that you did not see how Lord Gwyllim flirted with me all last evening, and that he asked me to dance the opening promenade at the ball with him tonight.”

 

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