White Raven's Lover

by Nhys Glover

She didn’t expect to sleep. Her techniques for bringing on sleep seemed to have deserted her of late. But sometime before dawn she dropped into an uneasy doze and only then did she see what she needed to see: Cal in the arms of a rider who was pushing his horse relentlessly through the night, another rode at his side.

  As the first rays of dawn turned the sky purple, she saw the riders slow to a standstill on the top of a ridge. Below them lay the town in which she slept, the fort outlined against the stark rocky outcrops above it.

  She tried to send Cal her news. To tell him she was close. But the silence that greeted her was unsettling. Surely he was all right. If he was dead, the men wouldn’t be carrying him with them. The only answer was that Cal wasn’t sleeping. Could the horse’s uneven gait be keeping him awake?

  Please, please, Cal, keep strong. We’re here. We’re so close. Be brave!

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  17 April 86 CE

  As the occupants of the tavern began to awaken and move around, she was dragged from her dreams, edgy and afraid. Brennwen scrambled to her feet and replaced her clothing, wrinkling her nose at the smell of burning that clung to the fabric. Gaius had bought her two sets of clothes for the road, and her other set was with the washer woman. She had no choice but to wear what she’d worn at the fire.

  Pulling up the cloak to cover her hair, she went outside to scan the roads. How long would it take them to come down off the moors and pass through the town? Would they pass through town or just skirt around it? Why had they been travelling at night when, on other nights, she’d seen them sleeping by the fire with her tied up son.

  Dissatisfied, she turned back to the tavern and went in to carry out her tasks. She told the owner of the establishment that her master was suffering from the smoke from the fire the night before and that he would only want some bread and cheese to break his fast. She chose an oat gruel for herself and enjoyed soaking it in milk and honey.

  When she could wait no longer, she went to markets and bought more food and wine. Then, with it packed in her leather hold all, she hastened to the stables for her horse. Had the riders passed by Gaius yet? Might she herself cross their path on her way? If that happened and Cal saw her, would he recognise her and give them away?

  The questions without answers churned like the unrelenting sea in her mind. In the end, all she could do was carry out her tasks and pray that the Goddess who had guided her path so far would bring her safely to her destination.

  She cantered her large mount along the as-yet quiet road just as the sun peaked its head above the moortops. Another beautiful day would be theirs. Maybe the day would be beautiful in another way. Maybe today she would have her son safely in her arms for the first time.

  As she left the main road and ventured down the less well marked track toward the farm, Gaius stepped out of the undergrowth in front of her. He must have heard her horse’s hoof-beats through the ground, and when he recognised her horse, come out to greet her.

  Never in her life had she been so pleased to see anyone. His short, well-built body was so familiar to her now. That dark cap of roman-cut hair over dark brows and brown, sleepy eyes was so painfully familiar to her now. But his smile, which seemed to light up the shadows of the forest around him, was not so familiar, but just as welcoming.

  She drew up next to him and threw herself down from her mount, into his open arms. Crying with happiness, she kissed his face and felt his body respond to her closeness. Just when she thought he would drag her away from him, he changed tack. His mouth came down on hers with an urgent need that sent her body into desire so hot she could barely contain it.

  But before she could relax into the kiss and return it with the same enthusiasm, Gaius had ended it and was dragging her with him into the forest, pulling her horse along behind them.

  ‘I saw them,’ she exclaimed as they reached his little campsite not far off the road.

  ‘They passed here not long ago. I saw Cal in the arms of one of the two riders,’ Gaius replied distractedly as he tied the horse’s reins to a nearby branch.

  ‘Yes. They rode through the night for some reason. Could you see if Cal was awake?’

  ‘No. He was curled up on the rider’s lap. He could have been asleep or awake. What did your dream tell you?’

  ‘I couldn’t talk to him. So he must have been awake when I saw him on the moortop overlooking Olicana. Gaius, we’ve found him! Can’t we go for him now? If we got a few soldiers from the fort, we could go in for him today…’

  He placed his hand over her mouth and shook his head. ‘No, we can’t just charge in without a plan. We have to find out how many men are at the house, what their patterns of behaviour are, where they’re keeping Cal and when the best chance is to go for him. There are two riders and one old man at the farm that we know of, but who knows how many have come in from the district overnight. Maybe Cal’s captors travelled through the night because they’d fallen behind schedule for a meeting. That barn was going to be used for some purpose.’

  She looked into his troubled eyes and tried to push down her impatience. ‘I can go in with food. The girl won’t be suspicious. I can see what’s happening in there…’ Immediately, she saw the problem: Cal. If Cal remembered her from his dreams, then he might react to the sight of her. She could cause more harm than good.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I can’t go in. Cal might recognise me.’

  Gaius nodded grudgingly. ‘You’re right. We can’t risk something like that this close to our goal. But Brennwen, we’re so close! There were times I doubted your dreams. Times I couldn’t believe my own gullibility. But now… Now, all I can do is thank which-ever god sent you to me. Without you, I might never have come this close. I might have gone with Lucullus and been ambushed and killed. My son might have… But none of that has happened because of you. Thank you!’

  The warm glow of happiness started to spread through her chest. She smiled up at him and then stood on tiptoes to kiss his lips. ‘You’re welcome.’

  And that was all it took. Suddenly, the tension of the past days exploded into an overwhelming torrent of sexual need that tore the breath from Brennwen’s lungs. As Gaius kissed her mouth hungrily, desperately, she could do nothing but return kiss for kiss.

  When his tongue thrust into her open mouth, she felt no hesitation, no repugnance. This was not like those other times. There was no force. She wanted this man every bit as much as he wanted her. With a moan of pent desire, she drank him in, running her hands through his short hair, feeling the rasp of his unshaven cheeks against her skin, the pain of it only pushing her higher.

  ‘Oh gods,’ Gaius said on a moan as he tore her cloak from her shoulders and then pushed her gently but urgently onto the pile of skins and blankets he’d used the night before. His hands were everywhere, trying to find skin, trying to feel her flesh as she wanted to feel his.

  He wore only his tunic and loincloth, and her hands found their way up under the tunic to his arousal. As she wrapped her fists around him, still covered by cloth, he threw back his head and groaned, shuddering.

  Before she could do more, he was dragging her tunic over her head and pulling off the braes she wore to ride. There was no time to feel the chill of the morning on her naked skin. No time to worry about the consequences of their actions. His hands, calloused and warm, were stroking at her naked skin like he couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t believe he had her in his arms.

  Groaning again, he dropped his head to her naked breast and sucked her nipple into his hot, wet mouth. She almost screamed at the surge of pleasure that rushed over her as he suckled on one, while he kneaded the other, twisting the nipple between his fingertips.

  ‘This is madness,’ he gasped as he moved to her other breast to suckle her again, hard.

  She wanted to feel skin beneath her hands, she wanted to feel his firm warm flesh pressed against hers. With a desperation bordering on insanity, she struggled to pull up his tunic. But his belt was in the way.r />
  Seeing what she wanted, he pulled away and quickly undid the belt and pulled off his tunic. Making the most of the moment, Brennwen curled her hands around his throbbing rod. Never in her life had she wanted to feel a man’s arousal. To her, it had always been the precursor of pain. But now her hands had minds of their own. They wanted to feel him throbbing against their palms, knowing that she was the one driving him to this madness. This thrusting thick rod was hers to do with as she wanted.

  That thought almost brought sanity back. She knew what he wanted to do with what she held. And though he’d assured her that her body would not be torn asunder by it, her memories were still too painful.

  But before her fear outweighed her desire, Gaius was kissing her mouth again, deep probing kisses that mimicked what he wanted to do with her body.

  While one hand cupped the side of her face tenderly, the other cupped her maidenhair. The touch was electric, and without conscious will, she opened her legs for him. And with a groan he broke the kiss and began to nibble and bite her arched neck as one finger found its way through the petals of her sex and buried itself into her core.

  The intrusion was shocking and exciting, all at once. As he pressed deeper, she arched her back and opened for him. The groan he gave her in return was enough to tell her she was doing what he wanted, what they both needed.

  In the back of her mind, a little voice told her to stop; told her that Cal was only a few hundred paces away, waiting for her and this man to come for him; told her that this could only end badly; told her that he would break her heart without meaning to.

  But the little voice was drowned out by the sound of their panting breaths, and the moans that were torn from their throats as the pleasure spiralled higher and fiercer, like the flames of the fire the night before.

  Gaius had sunk a second finger into her core and was using his thumb to make circles around the sensitive little nub buried in the folds of her sex. Every action of those clever digits drove her closer to something she’d never known, something she knew innately was her goal.

  She pressed her pelvis up against his hand, trying to get more. Wanting more. With a muffled obscenity, Gaius withdrew. The shocking absence was almost too much. Tears stung her eyelids. Surely he wouldn’t reject her now. Surely not now!

  But in seconds he was back, his hot, damp skin pressing into hers. And instead of fingers, he buried his arousal deep inside her, in one fierce thrust. The burn of that invasion stilled her. The feeling of fullness overwhelmed her. Once he was buried deep, his hips grinding against hers, she found she wanted to cry for other reasons.

  For a long, timeless moment, Gaius paused, his arousal throbbing against her sensitive inner flesh. He looked down into her eyes, and they were filled with such tender passion she wanted to capture it in her heart and cling to it forever. But the moment passed, and his face became a picture of intense concentration as he began to move, drawing out of her and then pressing home again, over and over, until the sleek feel of him inside her sent the building tension spiralling out of control.

  Thrusting up as he thrust in, she felt herself shatter into exquisite, blissful fragments, her body rigid as the pleasure surged up from her centre and fountained out from the top of her head. One soundless scream broke free and was swallowed by Gaius’ mouth as he rode with her through the blinding sensations, stilled, waiting, panting, until her body relaxed against his, and he was ready to move again – harder this time, faster, his panting breaths almost deafening against her ear.

  Then, before the tide of pleasure had fully receded for her, she felt it surge up again. This time, when she gave herself up to it, she felt his body convulsing with hers, and felt the burning jet of his need scorch her core to blissful ash.

  Panic rose inside Gaius as soon as his passion was spent. Instead of the relaxed, post-coital relief he usually felt after sex, terror clawing at his throat. How could this one small, pale being have driven him out of his mind so completely that he’d forgotten everything? Forgotten that Cal was only a few hundred paces away, alone, frightened and wanting his father. Forgotten that they lay in the woods by the side of the track where anyone could have come upon them and taken them by surprise. His sword wasn’t even at hand! And, the most bitter blow of all, he’d forgotten that he’d sworn to himself never to take this woman because he could offer her nothing in return.

  But the pleasure, by the gods, the pleasure had been beyond anything he’d ever experienced. All it had taken was her sweet kiss in return for his thanks, and he was lost. It didn’t matter that he’d spent the night congratulating himself on avoiding her tempting body by camping out by the road. It didn’t matter that he’d taken himself in hand repeatedly throughout what was left of the night, trying to drive her from his head. As soon as she’d kissed him, everything else had disappeared.

  How could he lust after this girl in such a feral, primitive way that was so out of character with his controlled and sensible persona? Even in his most passionate moments with Calidia, he hadn’t felt his leash unwind like this. He’d always taken his time and focused on his wife, as Vali had taught him. And it had given him immense satisfaction to know the pleasure he’d brought her every time they came together.

  But he had barely registered this girl’s needs, although he met them automatically, unthinkingly, out of his own needs, out of his own desires. At no time did he separate his mind from his body, as he’d trained himself to do with Calidia, so that he could increase his performance. No, with Brennwen, the thought had never come. Performance was irrelevant. Success or failure was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was feeling her body moving under his, the soft moans and the desperate touches, the way her hot, wet core tightened around him as she exploded so silently, and yet so intensely, at her release.

  How could he had lived nearly thirty years and not known such extreme sensations were possible? And the aching tenderness he’d felt for her when she allowed him to stretch her tiny core to accommodate him. She’d trusted him not to tear her apart with his size or the pounding thrusts he heedlessly inflicted on her. By the gods, she was so fragile. And yet she had taken him, every inch of him, and let her body take its pleasure from him, not once but twice, before he finally joined her in that final release.

  How did he come back from this? How did he resume his life again, once his son was back in his arms, without her in it? She wasn’t even his slave! Somewhere to the south west some other man owned her. A man who had valued her so little that he’d set his friends onto her, and would have killed her, if not for the timely intervention of the Druid hermit.

  That master should die. If Gauis had willingly participated in the death of his brother for what Publius had done to Lara, how much more did this girl’s master deserve death?

  Now that he knew what it took to kill, could he carry out such a premeditated action?

  That he could get away with it was not an issue. As part of the governor’s inner circle, he wasn’t restrained by the same laws that applied to others, certainly not those that applied to conquered peoples. But he had his own code of conduct, his own rules of behaviour to follow. Could he condone the murder of Brennwen’s master for what he’d done to her?

  Absolutely. He would gain great satisfaction from avenging her.

  All these thoughts streamed through his brain as he lay at her side on the soft mossy ground, waiting from his heartbeat to the return to normal, waiting for the panic to recede.

  How long had their interlude lasted? The sun had barely crept a finger’s width higher into the sky. Surely he hadn’t betrayed Cal by taking these few horded moments as his own. Didn’t he now feel renewed by the intense experience, all worry and tension drained away? That would make him fitter and more focused on his goal. Brennwen wouldn’t distract him any longer, now that he’d met his obsessive need to have her.

  But the true source of his panic wouldn’t be so easily put aside. He had betrayed this girl and his wife by his selfish actions. Nothi
ng he could tell himself would right those wrongs. He would cast Brennwen aside once this was over, and have to live with the knowledge that a slave girl had taken him to heights his own sweet wife had never done.

  ‘What happens now?’ she whispered in that sexy, raspy voice of hers.

  ‘Nothing has changed between us.’ He almost snapped the words in his anxiety to have them said.

  ‘I mean about Cal.’

  ‘We ride back to town and await Vali.’

  ‘The girl will go to the well. She’ll have to. I could go to her there and find out what she knows. I need not go inside where Cal might see me.’

  He thought fast. Having her here might serve two purposes. The first was the most obvious – it would keep her out of his reach; keep temptation at bay. Because, even though he wanted to believe his obsessive need for her was now met, he wasn’t sure.

  Second, he could await Vali on his own while she made sure nothing happened at the farmhouse. Even if she didn’t catch the girl at the well, she would be able to see if the rebels left or if more arrived.

  ‘All right. But make sure you stay away from Cal. And don’t take any risks. Return to town at dusk.’

  He turned his head to look at her, bracing himself for the sight of her pale, naked body, so small, yet so perfectly formed, beside him. There had been no time to savour the sight of her during their hasty coupling. But every image was burned into his brain. Those small, rounded globes topped with colourless peaks that hardened into points as he touched or tasted them. Those surprisingly long, shapely legs, so sleek to the touch. That crop of white curls that covered her invitingly warm centre. Given time, he would glory in rubbing his face against those soft curls, so different to the hair on her head.

  And that rope of braided snow. How he wanted to unwind it and wrap himself in its pure lengths. It wasn’t thick hair, but it was silky. The feel of it against his bare belly would be incredible.