The Falcon and the Flower

by Virginia Henley

  Falcon was racked with worry, anger, and guilt. He said shortly, “I’ll get Estelle.”

  Morganna slipped on her tunic and sneaked away with excitement bubbling inside her. If Jasmine miscarried it would save her the trouble of destroying the child.

  Estelle accompanied Falcon to the tower room, both deeply concerned. However, they were vastly relieved to see Jasmine sitting up in bed looking ethereal because of her slight pallor but unbelievably beautiful. Tam’s doublet sported a pink and silver ribbon, and Falcon experienced a stab of jealousy as he realized Jasmine had given it to the young knight to wear as a favor. Then his common sense told him a knight who wore the ridiculously feminine colors of pink and silver would be a laughingstock. Tam averted his eyes from de Burgh and excused himself.

  Estelle went to the bed and asked anxiously, “Are you bleeding?”

  “No, of course not. Don’t worry so, Estelle, I’ll be perfectly all right. And please don’t alert Big Meg or she’ll keep me here for a week.”

  “I’ll get you some chamomile and mint for the nausea,” said Estelle, hurrying off to her stillroom.

  Falcon sat down carefully on the edge of the bed. “Jasmine, if I am the cause of this I must ask your forgiveness.”

  Her best weapon she decided was indifference. “You? How could anything you do affect me?” she said lightly. “This is simply one of the small joys of pregnancy.”

  “I’m going to be away from Mountain Ash for a few days, but naturally I won’t leave until I see you are recovered.”

  She knew immediately he was riding out in retaliation for the raid and icy fingers of fear crept around her heart. She might have clung to him and begged him to stay if she hadn’t found Morganna in his bed. Instead she said indifferently. “Don’t alter your plans on my account. I shall be up and about in an hour.”

  “I’m not taking all the men, I’ll leave you well guarded,” he reassured her.

  She turned amethyst eyes upon him. “So long as you leave Tam, I’ll feel perfectly safe,” she said with the innocence of an asp.

  He bit back a very nasty word, yet he was relieved. If she felt well enough to taunt him she couldn’t be too ill. Nevertheless, he postponed leaving for one more day. That night in the hall he was amused to see at least fifty of his knights sporting pink and silver ribbons. He also found himself on the receiving end of quite a few disapproving glances.

  Later he dreamed he had to comfort and reassure a tearful Jasmine who was terrified for his safety. He held her against his heart and stroked her to sleep as the terror of losing him slowly melted away with his kisses. When he awoke a glum feeling descended upon him that Jasmine was indifferent as to whether he would make her a widow. However, his spirits lifted when he saw that she seemed perfectly recovered. Soon the hour drew near when he and forty of his best would ride through the night to plunder Brecon.

  He would have been very gratified to know that Jasmine watched him leave through the narrow tower window. His men were laughing boisterously, jousting at one another with rough hands. The cold wind whipped their cloaks about them as they clattered over the stones of the bailey and through the gates. She saw Falcon lift his dark head toward her tower, his great destrier reared up, its forelegs pawing the wind, before he wheeled away from the castle. She thought man and beast were perfectly matched with the same strength and violence that was beautiful to watch. She shuddered, already lonely for him. How many times down the years to come would she stand so and watch him go directly into danger?

  It took de Burgh two full weeks, for the mountain passes were treacherous and once they reached Brecon they had to build siege engines on the spot with their great axes. He knew that in the middle of winter the fortress would be manned by only a few good fighting men. Most of Llewellyn’s army was kept close to the border of England where they could profit from quick raids on wealthy English castles. Before de Burgh quit Brecon he had two full chests of gold and a cache of precious jewels. But of more importance to him, he left not one man alive nor one wall of Brecon intact. His mangonels and trenchbuts had battered down the palisade and the curtain wall, and left gaping holes in the tower. Every outbuilding was burned to the ground. He took a grim satisfaction in the methodical destruction, which would never have happened if the Welsh hadn’t struck first.

  Jasmine and Estelle had consulted the crystal ball after carefully performing the magic ritual, and they had seen clearly that de Burgh would overcome all danger and come away with treasure enough to build half a dozen castles if he so desired.

  Morganna was devastated to see Jasmine up so quickly from her sickbed because it meant she must still be carrying the child. She was actually singing and the bloom in her cheeks made her look stronger, healthier, and happier than she had ever been. Morganna decided to put an end to all that. She asked Estelle for an abortificant for herself. Naturally Estelle was only too willing to rid the Welsh girl of de Burgh’s bastard.

  Morganna waited until she saw Jasmine go to the kitchens as she did every day now, then took out the vial of rue, which she intended to pour into the mead Jasmine always drank. She stole up to Jasmine’s tower room, terrified lest she be discovered. Once she thought she heard the padding of soft footsteps so she quickly took the stopper from the vial and reached for the mead. Suddenly she screamed as she was pounced on from behind and rolled to the floor. For a moment terror gripped her as she stared up into the amber eyes of a great mountain lion. She reached for her knife, but found her leather sheath empty. Quickly she rolled away from the cat toward the door, the spilled vial forgotten in her panic to get away. Later as she examined the two deep horizontal claw marks across her bare breast, she knew they would probably leave a scar. With great cunning, she found her knife and scratched a vertical cut to join the others, forming a perfect letter F for Falcon.

  Estelle found the empty vial she had given to Morganna. As she bent to retrieve it, a vision came to her of what the girl had tried to do. She picked up the mead but could discern no telltale smell of rue; however, to be on the safe side she threw away the flagon’s contents. Estelle did not wish to estrange Jasmine and Falcon further by explaining that Morganna had asked for the rue to get rid of Falcon’s child. She would simply have to watch the girl closely, for she had almost succeeded in carrying out her destructive plan.

  When de Burgh and his men returned triumphant, it was cause for a great celebration. Since it was well into December, they decided to hold the Christmas festivities early. The hall was decorated with holly and mistletoe, an enormous Yule log was felled and made ready, and the oxen sent from Chepstow were put on the spits to roast.

  Jasmine was dressing for the celebration with the help of Glynis when Falcon pushed open her chamber door and strolled in. She was sitting in her brief shift pulling on her stockings. “I’m not dressed,” she protested with a gasp.

  He grinned. “So I see,” he said.

  She glanced guiltily at the scarlet gown laid out on the bed. “I’m wearing red,” she said defiantly.

  His grin widened. “So I see,” he said again.

  Little Glynis made a hasty departure before the sparks began to fly. Falcon drew close, drinking in the heady sight of her, which he had thirsted for while they had been separated. His eyes swept down over her tiny waist and flat belly. “You’re even slimmer than when I left.”

  “My breasts are fuller,” she said, then blushed hotly.

  His grin showed his even, white teeth. “So I see,” he repeated, this time running an appreciative finger over the swell of her breast. He was glad she had chosen to wear red; he had known she would. The diamonds he intended giving her tonight would be set off magnificently.

  His eyes grew smoky with desire, and she warned, “De Burgh, don’t you dare!”

  He teased, “Can’t you find it in your heart to be kind to me after a two-week absence?”

  “No,” she said firmly.

  “Let me take you to bed, just for an hour?” he teased. “No!” s
he said sharply.

  “Then take off your shift and let me see your lovely body for a little while.” “De Burgh!” she protested.

  “Selfish little wench!” He gave a mock sigh. “Ah well, I’ll just have to settle for the taste of you then,” he said, picking her up and setting her down in his lap. His lips brushed hers. “Did I ever tell you,” he said, brushing her lips again and again, “that your little bottom is heart-shaped?”

  She was unused to this gentle loveplay and was quite willing to be teased and touched. His hand ran down her silken stocking. “Did I ever tell you,” he said, brushing her lips, “that you have the prettiest slim legs?” He put his fingers beneath her chin and raised it so he could look into her eyes. “And what’s this you have between your pretty legs? Did you ever tell me?”

  She jumped off his lap quickly and grabbed up her gown. “De Burgh, we will miss all the fun.”

  He sighed. “We will if you don’t let me take you to bed.”

  “There’s going to be dancing,” she said with excitement.

  He mocked, “Why didn’t you tell me? Why are we wasting time in the bedroom when we could be having fun downstairs?”

  She giggled. “Will you dance with me?”

  “I thought all your dances would be reserved for Tam. Don’t tell me you’d favor an old man like me with a dance?” He turned her around and hooked up her gown. Then he lifted her pale tresses and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “Lord God, how you make me quiver,” he murmured, all teasing gone from his voice. He knew if he didn’t remove himself from her presence, her clothes would be strewn across the chamber and she’d be beneath him in the bed. Alone together in a room, the torment and temptation were too great for him. His eyes grew serious. He dropped a chaste kiss on the top of her head and hastily left her to finish dressing.

  Chapter 34

  The tables in the hall groaned beneath their succulent burden of food. The roasted oxen were supplemented by venison; it took a score of red deer to feed two hundred. In the dead of winter there were no fresh vegetables available, but the icy rivers teemed with fish, game was always plentiful, and the cooks had baked dozens of loaves, pastries, and egg dishes. Apple and mincemeat pies and gooseberry and quince tarts smothered in thick, rich cream were washed down by old ale, hot spiced cider, and the wine sent from Chepstow.

  Laughter and music were the order of the night. Tam was the first knight to gather enough courage to ask Jasmine to dance, but he was followed in quick succession by his brother Gower, Montgomery, and Gervase. Jasmine tried without success to keep her eyes from the dark head that leaned against the wall watching her from across the hall. He was so easy with everyone, even the scullions called him Falcon, she noticed. Trust Gervase to deliver her to her husband after they had danced, she thought ruefully.

  Falcon laughed down at her. “You haven’t asked me to dance.”

  She tossed her hair back. “An ugly lout like you deserves to stand against the wall!”

  His hands shot out to seize her about the waist and draw her close. “I’ve a present for you tucked inside my doublet,” he said temptingly. Her eyes met his and she took up his challenge. Her hand slipped inside against the hard, bare flesh of his chest and she gasped as her fingers closed over what she knew must be jewels. As she drew them out, the diamonds caught the light and the reflection of her flame-colored gown. Womanlike, she took delight in the luxurious gift as she slipped the twin bracelets over her wrists.

  She was breathless as Falcon fastened the matching necklace about her slender throat and whirled her off to dance before she could think of anything to say. “Let’s give them something to talk about,” he invited, then lifted her high to show off her pretty legs. The hall went wild. When they danced there was something between them that carried them away to another world where none of the others could follow.

  After the dance Falcon went with the other men to drag in the Yule log for luck. There was much good-hearted pushing and shoving, and many of them were unsteady on their feet from what they had imbibed. Jasmine was flushed and happy. It was almost as if Falcon were courting her, and what woman could resist? What woman indeed? she asked herself as Morganna, in a low-cut, short leather tunic, fastened her eyes on Jasmine’s diamonds and sneered, “I’m happy to see the two of you do something together, at least.”

  Jasmine refused to be baited. “Yes, I have discovered a passion for dancing,” she said lightly.

  “Passion?” Morganna scorned. “You don’t even know the meaning of the word.” She pulled aside her tunic to reveal her breast with the F carved into it. “There’s passion! He puts his mark on everything he owns that really matters to him.”

  Jasmine closed her eyes. The evening had been thoroughly spoiled for her. If Falcon really cared anything at all for her, he would rid the castle of Morganna’s hateful presence.

  When he returned to Jasmine’s side, he brought her a cup of hot, fragrant cider, but she set it aside. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his brows drawing together in concern. The sparkle had gone out of her and she had withdrawn from him.

  “Nothing,” she said stiffly. “I’m suddenly very tired.”

  He searched her face, but she would not meet his eyes. Finally he said, “I’m sorry, I should have realized. I’ll carry you up to bed.”

  She recoiled. “No! Please stay or your men will be disappointed.”

  Estelle came up and put her hand on de Burgh’s arm. “I’ll see to her,” she said quietly. Inside Jasmine’s tower room, Estelle warned her granddaughter, “I’ve never taken my eyes from her tonight because I know she is a danger to you.”

  “If he wants her he can have her,” Jasmine cried angrily.

  “He doesn’t want her, that’s why she’s obsessed! with him,” said Estelle firmly.

  “He’s carved his initial on her breast!” cried Jasmine.

  “What do you mean?” asked Estelle.

  “She showed me a big F scratched across her breast!”

  “She must have done it herself. She’s capable of anything. I didn’t tell you, but two days ago I know she came to your chamber to put rue in your wine to rid you of the child. I found the empty vial spilled upon the floor. She wanted me to think she carried his child, but the only child really is yours. Tonight I saw the raw hatred she bears you, darling. She’ll try again tonight. I feel it. I know it.”

  Jasmine was still for a moment as she absorbed the truth of Estelle’s words. “I will be ready for her. I will put the fear of the Devil into her.”

  “I’ll ready the candles, you put on your gossamer robe,” urged Estelle. They prepared for the ritual and silently waited. The green candles had burned themselves in half before they heard a footfall on the stone steps.

  In the dim tower staircase Morganna stretched a cord low across the top step and secured the ends by wedging them tightly into deep crevices in the stone walls. She tested its tautness, smiled with satisfaction, and was about to step over the cord and descend when Estelle opened the chamber door and commanded, “Come … we’ve been expecting you.” There were times when it was quite impossible to disobey Estelle, and this was one of them. As if under a spell, Morganna entered the chamber. With fascinated horror she saw Jasmine in a nimbus of light inside a circle of green candles. Her nakedness glowed through a robe transparent as a spider’s web and she held a chalice of some potion on high as she sang a mystic chant. An unusual smoky miasma was filling the room until the heavy, burning fragrance almost choked Morganna.

  Jasmine drank from the chalice then caressed a crystal orb before her, which began to swirl inside like a whirlwind. “I, Jasmine de Burgh, call upon the Powers of the Universe to curse Morganna of Wales. If you ever lift a hand against a child of mine, God wither it!” Jasmine raised a dagger and pointed it directly at Morganna.

  With a strangled cry the girl fled the room. She forgot the cord across the stairs and went down headfirst with a scream of terror. Falcon’s door flew open as he rushed
out.

  “They tried to murder me,” she screamed. “They are witches!” She pointed up the stairs and de Burgh stood horrified at the sight of Jasmine in her ritualistic robe. Falcon tried to help Morganna to her feet. Her face and arms were torn and bleeding from the rough stones. Her hand was frozen into a claw. “I cannot move my hand … they have crippled me!”

  Big Meg had also heard the screams and came running. De Burgh spoke to her quickly. “Take the girl and tend her wounds.” He took the stairs two at a time. Both women backed away from his terrible black anger.

  “There will be no more witch’s rituals in my castle. This night puts an end to all your dabbling in black magic! Do you understand me?” he thundered, his eyes blazing with cold fury. He turned on his heel as if he could no longer stand the sight of his wife.

  Why did he have such an unreasoning attitude toward the occult? Jasmine wondered angrily. Why did he take that slut’s part against her? She wanted to run to him with the tale of the Welsh girl’s wickedness against her and their unborn child. She wanted to show him the cord stretched across the steps, which could have killed her or at the very least made her miscarry, but her pride forbade her from defending herself. She would not beg him, in fact she would not even speak to him from now on. She would totally ignore him as if he didn’t exist.

  Over the next couple of days it became apparent that Morganna was no longer at Mountain Ash, and no one seemed to know of her whereabouts. It was assumed that de Burgh knew, but that the subject was closed.

  Jasmine succeeded in ignoring Falcon, but though she looked away from him when they occupied the same room or when they dined in the hall, it did not free her mind of his strong image. When he and his men went hunting she thought she would go mad with the quiet loneliness, but when they returned their uproar shook the rafters.

  She found him time and time again watching her, his eyes shadowed and moody, and she knew with the age-old knowledge of Eve that his need grew stronger and her time grew shorter. She knew he was stalking her like his prey. She knew his control would snap and he would take her, but she did not know how or when.