Wild Is My Love

by Janelle Taylor

  “A fine beast ye have there, little maiden,” one said.

  “Hand him over and ye will meet no harm,” another added.

  Alysa did not trust the bandits, and her expression said so. “Out of my way!” she yelled arrogantly, hoping to startle them into opening a gap for escape. It did not; they merely laughed at her bravado.

  The circle tightened slightly. Calliope anxiously neighed and stamped the ground, whipping up dust around his hooves. Alysa’s eyes darted about and she guided her mount round and round, trying to watch all of them. Suddenly one of the brigands reached forward and yanked off her hood, causing her brown locks to tumble free. She yelped in pain, for he had seized hair, too, and snapped her head backwards. Her shriek caused Calliope to whinny and to paw the air frantically with his forelegs, but the well-trained rider kept her seat. The hasty movements sent her tresses flying about her, to settle around her shoulders in wild disarray.

  The sight of her enormous beauty brought forth crude remarks, and more boldness. Another man grabbed at her cape, jerking it from her body and dropping it to the earth, where Calliope nervously trampled it. That action almost unseated her, and she was glad the fibula broke loose. By now Alysa was as apprehensive as her horse was, but she tried to conceal it.

  The bandits began to taunt her, making lewd suggestions. One edged close enough to trail his soiled fingers over one bare arm. As she whirled to avoid his grasp, another reached for her from the other side. Clearly these men intended not only to rob her, but to ravish her. Her courage was giving way to panic, panic that denied clear thinking.

  “Ye will fetch a high price, even used,” one man jested.

  “What are we waiting for?” another asked.

  “Lay one hand on me and you shall lose it,” Alysa warned in a tremulous voice. She snatched her dagger from its sheath and waved it in the man’s face. “Touch me if you dare.”

  “She is a proud and snarling wench, but we can tame her.”

  “Should we take her to Skane?” a bandit asked.

  “Our leader has his hands full. She be ours first, then we sell her.”

  “Ye know our orders,” the first bandit shouted. “No raids without his permission. We were to scout only. Skane will burst with rage.”

  The other laughed sardonically and said, “If Valhalla appears before us, are we to refuse to enter her? This wench offers heaven itself. My body swells and aches with need. I must have her.”

  The frightened man glanced at her blue eyes and tousled hair. “Look at her. She cannot be of earth and man. She is more like a Valkyrie who will send us into the arms of Odin.”

  “Is that what ye are, pretty maiden?”

  “I am more than that, foul human! I am Freyja,” she snapped, claiming to be the goddess of love, beauty, and fertility: leader of the Valkyrie, warrior women who served the Viking god Odin and who were said to be unconquerable.

  “Riders are coming,” one of the brigands yelled.

  The man in charge of the band glanced down the road, then back at Alysa. She could tell he was deliberating his next move. Both knew he could not escape with a fighting woman, and she would fight.

  “Next time, my bold wench,” he sneered, then ordered the men to depart, and led a hasty retreat.

  Alysa turned in her saddle to see an astonishing but delightful sight. It was not castle knights bearing down on them, but Gavin, with five men trailing him, all with swords drawn in readiness. She could hardly believe the brigands had fled without a battle, actually run like cowards.

  Her rescuers halted to see if she was all right. Staring at the men who were dressed alike, except for Gavin, she merely nodded. Her lover’s eyes roamed her from head to foot to make certain she was not injured. Satisfied she was unharmed and only shaken by the incident, he ordered his men to pursue the raiders.

  “Capture at least one if you can, then meet me back in camp. I will see this maiden home safely. If they join up with others, take no risks.”

  Gavin studied her before asking, “What are you doing out here alone, Thisbe? You know the raiders are everywhere these days.”

  “I have always ridden when and where I desired, but I see that is no longer possible, or wise. I am glad you arrived in time to save me, and I will not be so foolish again. I was pleased to see your men. Did they agree to work for Princess Alysa?”

  A new scowl lined Gavin’s handsome face. “We have not decided yet. But your rescue will catch the bandits’ attention, and that of Isobail.”

  Panic nibbled at Alysa. “If anyone learns of this attack on me, I will not be allowed to leave the castle. To meet with you again,” she added. If this news became public, she thought, her true identity would be exposed to Gavin. Besides, she needed him and his men to work for her secretly, to play their roles as merry adventurers seeking pleasures while gathering evidence against Isobail.

  Gavin, meanwhile, was thinking about what she had just said. “Perhaps it is unwise for us to meet again until these dangers pass,” he said softly. “I do not wish to endanger you. What if we are seen together? What if you lead Isobail’s men to mine? I am their leader, responsible for their survival. The peril of discovery increases each day for all of us. Until I can understand all of this matter and decide if and how we can help the Malverns, we should stay apart.”

  Alysa stared at him, stunned by his cutting words. “You do not wish to see me again?” she asked. “Were you displeased with our union yesterday?”

  Gavin read the anguish he had given her, and it chewed on his heart. The difference in their stations, which had been gnawing at him, now led him to reply: “That is not my meaning, Thisbe. You are my heart’s desire, as you say I am yours. But our desires might not be enough to span the differences between us. Each day I yearn to be with you, as more than a lover. You are a rare and special woman, but if we have no future together, it is selfish of me to steal all I can from you before departing. You are not free to leave this land without permission, permission from an evil woman you are working to defeat. And I cannot remain here very long. After we have shared so much together, what then, m’love? What if there is no hope for us? I do not want your love to turn to hate, and I cannot bear to see you hurt.”

  Tears pooled in Alysa’s eyes. She understood his meaning all too well. They were drawn together, yet something was always between them. He had no way of knowing his feelings matched hers perfectly. “I, too, am selfish, my noble warrior. I understand that our paths might never become one or meet again. I do not care. Death could strike either of us at any moment, so what matters most is sharing what little time we have together. I know there are no promises between us. I will accept only that part of you which you can share, be it for one day or one week or one month. Is it not better to have me for a while than to never have me again?” she reasoned.

  “With trouble everywhere, it is dangerous for us to meet, and even more dangerous to play with our emotions,” he warned as his heart pounded heavily within his chest. Did he possess the will, the strength, the desire to refuse her? To resist her…

  She said softly, “We cannot deceive each other when we both know where we stand, and we both accept the likelihood that this is a passing romance.” She dared not ask: How can we know our feelings if we part now, so soon? She needed more time with him, and she would battle to obtain it. “Will we face any less danger by avoiding each other? No, we will challenge death each day, even if we remain apart. I believe the danger would be less if we worked together. How can you decide to help us if I do not pass along vital information and clues?”

  “I will gather them on my own, without endangering you.”

  “How can you gather what occurs within the castle? Just yesterday many incidents took place there.” She hurriedly related them. “Prince Alric is too ill to flee now, and Isobail acts as if she is already the ruler of this land! Isobail is like the disease she claims my… ruler has, and she will devour us all. She does not love her husband, and I fear for his life.�
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  She breathed deeply and continued, for it seemed necessary to tell him almost everything. “Baltair now doubts that the prince is being poisoned. He fears that the Prince has consumed so much that he can never get well, even if it has been stopped even for a while, or for good. I watched Isobail and Alric together yesterday. Something is wrong there, Gavin, and always has been. At times I think she has some strange hold over him and he fears to challenge it. Yet he revealed great anger against her during the meeting of lords. I have never seen him behave like that before.”

  Gavin kept silent as she wandered about in the maze of her explanation.

  Finally she said, “You were at Lord Daron’s. Did she truly save Lord Orin’s life? Or was it a cunning trick to delude him and others?”

  “I believe it was a trick,” he replied.

  “Will she stop at nothing? She encouraged war against Logris, but Prince Alric won that argument for now. Somehow I believe she has more than the conquest of Damnonia in mind. Her visions of glory frighten me.”

  “What about Princess Alysa? Does she feel the same?”

  “Isobail baits her each day she is home, but I doubt she thinks Alysa would battle her for the crown. Alysa knows everything I have told you, and my words to you are the same as hers. She will pay whatever price you ask for your help.”

  “Does this horse belong to Alysa?” he asked, eyeing the magnificent steed.

  “Yes, it is hers. I can ride Calliope any time I desire. Why?”

  “I just realized it is an expensive beast, and I was curious.”

  “Do you plan to make Calliope part of your price?” she inquired, dreading to hear his answer. She stroked the animal’s neck lovingly as she said, “Alysa would be broken-hearted if you demanded him.”

  “If I asked for him, would she refuse or comply?”

  Alysa swallowed hard and inhaled deeply. “You said the price for your help was me. Did you change your mind? Are money and jewels and glory not enough for you?”

  “You must answer me, Thisbe. Would she make any sacrifice to save her father and her land?”

  Alysa looked at him for a long moment, then replied, “Yes, she would. What is it that you truly want from her, Gavin?” Had this been a timely rescue or a trick? Did he know who she was? Were their meetings more than accidents? No, she commanded herself, she must not allow her imagination to run wild.

  Gavin sensed a change in her, one that matched her frosty expression and tone of voice. Gradually her implication settled in on him. He chuckled and shook his head. “I do not want Calliope or Alysa, my jealous Thisbe. I only needed to make certain she is serious. I have never met her, so I do not know if she is selfish, or spoiled, or simple-minded. I know I can trust you, but I must also be able to trust her. Would she die before betraying us?”

  “Yes, I swear it. No one knows Alysa better than I do, and I know she can be trusted completely. It is the same with her; she trusts you, “but she is fearful of trusting your men. Are they beyond treachery?”

  “Upon my life and honor,” he vowed. “We have remained here too long. We must get out of sight. Tell me what happened between you and those Jutes,” he asked as they crossed the nearby meadow and entered a dense forest.

  “I was right, they were Jutes,” she said pensively. They dismounted and walked side by side, heading deeper into the woods. “Could that possibly mean Isobail’s words are true? Could Vortigern be plotting against us, or allowing these bandits to hide and work from Logris?”

  “I have met Vortigern. He is a foolish man, but not a stupid one. I believe the bandits are renegades from Hengist’s clan. I doubt the Jute chieftain would want his men raiding here. That could entice Logris and Damnonia to band together to push them out of Britain. I would imagine that neither of them knows about the trouble here, or if they do, believe it has nothing to do with each other.”

  Shadows surrounded them as sunlight was blocked by towering trees. An aura .of serenity danced upon the mild breeze which teased through the greenery around them, making little noise on the supple leaves. It was cool and refreshing here, and smells of nature teased at their nostrils. Only the singing of birds reached their ears. They dropped their reins to the ground and continued their stroll, hoping the tranquility of this place would spread to them.

  When they halted and looked at each other Alysa asked, “Do you think it would help to send news of our trouble to Vortigern and Hengist?”

  Gavin leaned against a tree before he replied. “No, Thisbe, that would reveal how vulnerable your land and ruler are. It is best to defeat the brigands here. Yet Sheriff Trahern makes little effort to do so. He seems to seek only enough action to fool the nobles and peasants. If we started foiling them, that would show it was possible, and should make the people suspicious. But if we do, we may get too much attention from the wrong people. Do you catch my meaning?”

  Alysa locked her gaze to his, and stepped closer to him. Her fingers traced the shape of his sensual mouth and slipped over his strong chin to wander down his throat, halting at his heart. She felt its beat quicken, as did hers. She wanted to tell him she was his for the taking, but she knew her gesture told him for her. She saw him watch her, and she recognized an inner struggle exposed in his troubled eyes.

  Gavin’s hand captured hers, brought it back to his lips, and then his mouth pressed kisses to each fingertip. But his compelling eyes never released hers, and both knew what longings filled the other. Their eyes said far more than any words could, and they allowed them to speak to each other. Everything and everyone else seemed nonexistent at that moment. His hand eased into her hair and drew her head to his chest, then he placed his jaw atop it.

  Alysa sensed his tormenting dilemma. He could not deny that he wanted her, needed her, but… She closed her eyes tightly and prayed he would relent, for he was such a strong-willed man, and might adhere to his earlier words. She nestled against him and slipped her arms around his waist. She heard his heart pounding forcefully in her ear and felt the tautness in his body. She was afraid to speak, fearing the sound of her voice could break the romantic spell forming around them.

  Time passed, and she wondered if he was summoning the strength to send her away. In panic, she tightened her embrace and waited.

  Gavin recognized the reason for her tension, and his body responded to the way she was clinging almost desperately to him. He called her words to mind, and asked himself if she truly meant them. Even if she did, was it fair to her? One of her statements returned to haunt him. He had to respond to it. “You asked if I was displeased with our union yesterday. Nay, m’love; I have never experienced one of such beauty and pleasure. Perhaps that is what alarmed me, to discover such deep emotions within me. How can I ever desire another woman after taking you?”

  She lifted her head, smiled, and told him, “I am yours for as long as you desire only me, Gavin. When that desire changes, I will let you go. But not yet. Please, not yet.”

  Thirteen

  “Nay, m’love, not yet,” he agreed hoarsely as his mouth drifted over her face and hair. “For as long as it is possible between us, I cannot resist you. I cannot be blamed, for you have bewitched me.”

  “As you have done to me,” she retorted, pulling his mouth to hers, for she could wait no longer to taste his sweet submission.

  Gavin’s arms banded her securely and pressed her against his pleading body. His mouth sealed to hers and his tongue joyfully explored the delicious area. Had it only been one day since he had taken her? How so, when it seemed more like years?

  They kissed and caressed until both their bodies were ablaze with fiery passion. Hands roamed freely and leisurely, as if they had forever to make love. The flames within them burned brighter and fiercer. Yet they continued to stimulate each other and themselves, not wanting to rush this precious stolen moment. They labored lovingly until their hungers craved to be fed, but still they tempted their appetites until they demanded immediate appeasement.

  Gavin’s ad
roit hands loosened and removed her garments, then lay her upon a bed of supple grass. His smoldering gaze wandered over her shapely figure, branding his messages of love and desire into her quivering flesh. He was glad she made no attempt to cover herself, but seemed to relish his admiring gaze. She was so sleek and beautiful, and he could wait no longer to feel her naked body touching his. He took off his boots, trousers, and loincloth, but not his short over-tunic. He reclined beside her and looked into her entreating eyes.

  When his lips brushed over her nipples, she inhaled sharply and moaned her encouragement. His tongue circled one taut peak before taking it into his mouth to suckle on it, then he did the same to the other one. Blissful sensations rocked her body, and she pressed his head closer to her tingling breast. His hand drifted down her stomach and she parted her thighs in welcome, allowing him to travel into her furry domain. She writhed with delight as he tantalized the flaming’ bud of her womanhood. She had to touch him in a similar manner to feel his torrid shaft within her grasp. She boldly closed her lingers around it and massaged it gently, savoring its strength and heat and hunger.

  His body was hard, yet yielding to her touch. Her fingers admired the heights and depths and curves they encountered as they journeyed over his enticing frame. He was magnificent, and he gave her such mind-staggering pleasure. How could she not want to yield to him time and time again? How could she not throw herself into his arms and tempt him beyond resistance? He was driving her wild with his actions, yet she entreated more and more.

  Gavin’s entire body ached for his throbbing manhood to enter her and he did so very gently. He had known his control would be tested the moment he slipped within her, but it was harder to master than he had imagined. It quivered perilously, and he went rigid as he silently begged it to resist for a while. His nerves were on edge from the tension of holding back when he wanted to make wildly passionate love to her. He tried to think of other things to help cool the torrid flesh, but nothing worked. She was too tempting and consuming. He risked a few strokes, but halted again as his willful manroot tried to plant its seeds in the moist and fertile area that surrounded it.