Wild Is My Love

by Janelle Taylor

  “Nevertheless, I succeeded in sending a message to King Bardwyn, warning him of the treachery in Damnonia. We must be patient until the king can travel here with his men. Soon Alysa and Alric will be safe from them.”

  Gavin smiled as he told her, “When I found the roses in the tree, I knew you loved me and trusted me. Come, we must leave quickly and find a place to hide. Soldiers are searching everywhere for you. Soon I will take you back to the castle, where you will be safe until I complete my task for your mistress. I expect no payment from Alysa, m’love, as you are all I want, and I do this for you.” Knowing it would seem strange if his band earned no living while here, he added, “But my men must have money to live on. I did not find the jewels you placed in the tree for many days after my return; they had fallen into a rotting hole. When next you leave a message or seek one from me, if the hole seems empty check the decayed area to the rear of our hiding spot. I worried over what you must be thinking when you found the pouch gone, but no message from me. When I saw you out riding, I wondered why you had left no word for me, then I found the pouch had fallen deeper into the tree. My heart rejoiced at unmasking nature’s trick.”

  Gavin noticed how she was observing him, and realized he was destroying the doubts she had about him. While he had this advantage, he explained how and why he was raiding—falsely and cunningly.

  Still scrutinizing him, she asked, “Do you know why Skane wanted to kidnap Alysa and sell her to Hengist?”

  “Trahern said they considered Alysa the last Viking queen,” Gavin replied. “He said that would make her a valuable temptation to any Norse warrior who wanted to force marriage on her and become the ruler of his people. Hopefully I can slay Skane and his men before news of Alysa’s bloodline spreads to others. If I fail, it could place her in more danger.”

  “Would you steal and wed such a woman to become a king? Or hire out to capture one to sell to another man to do so?”

  “I do not believe in slavery of any kind, m’love. And I would never wish to become a Viking ruler, or help any man take command of them. It is better to have them scattered into groups, which weakens their power and prevents them from looting our island.”

  Gavin’s words sank in, and suddenly Alysa laughed and hugged him. He gazed at her strangely and asked, “Are you sure you are fine?”

  “Yes, my love, I am more than fine,” she replied.

  Gavin lifted one brow and inquired, “Is there something more?”

  “Later my love. We must flee this place of death.”

  Hours later Gavin found the large cave Giselde had mentioned to him on several occasions. He left Alysa with the horses while he inspected it with a torch. Lo cated in a ravine it the base of an earth and rock cliff, it was a perfect hiding place. The cave was sturdy and deep, snaking into the land beneath an overhang of dirt and greenery, making it nearly impossible to spot. Pleased, he returned. He lifted Alysa and carried her inside, placing her on a large boulder while he built a fire to chase away the chill and darkness. “Trojan, take care of Calliope,” he ordered softly, and the golden steed obeyed, leading the dark animal to water and grass.

  After Alysa and Gavin had eaten in near silence and were cuddled between his two blankets near a romantic fire, Alysa confessed in a strained tone, “There is something I must tell you, Gavin. The bandits did not make a mistake with their capture—I am Princess Alysa Malvern, not my servant Thisbe. I lied to you, but with good reason. Please forgive me for deceiving you, but I thought it was necessary.”

  Gavin propped upon his elbow and gazed down at her. “What did you say?” he asked, staggered by her total trust in him.

  Alysa explained everything to him, and prayed he would understand and forgive her. “I love you, Gavin Hawk, and I have fallen under your spell. Since we met I have been torn between wanting you and obeying my duty. My father needs me, my people need me, and I must follow my fate. But I must have you at my side or my life will be empty. With all my heart, I believe it is possible for you to find a way to be accepted in my land and life, if you agree. What more can I say?” she asked tearfully.

  Gavin gazed into her deep blue eyes and considered being as truthful with her as she had been with him. But he decided he must keep the secret of his identity a while longer. “There is nothing more you need to say, Princess Alysa. Fate has thrown us together and joined our hearts; surely it will join our lives one day. I love you, and I will prove I am worthy of you.”

  Tears of joy blinded Alysa as she embraced him tightly. “There is no need, my love; for no man could be more worthy of me than you are. If my people say you are not, then they are not worthy to have us as their rulers. More than the Crown, you are my destiny.”

  “As you are mine,” he responded tenderly. Gavin’s arms encircled her and held her snugly against him. He felt as if his heart would burst through his chest if it did not slow down from its excited pace. Alysa was here in his arms, safe and warm. Of her own will, she was his. She was not an unattainable servant; she was a princess whose rank matched his, and a woman who wanted him. His lips drifted over her hair and face, seeking hers.

  Alysa’s hands slipped beneath his tunic and caressed the flesh that covered his hard back. She yielded her mouth to his, reveling in the honeyed rapture that flowed sensuously through her veins. She closed her eyes and allowed the wildly sweet sensations to assail her as his lips kissed every inch and feature of her face. His hot breath stimulated each area to fiery life, and her skin tingled even after his lips moved onward. Gavin nuzzled her left ear, then her neck, bringing tremors to her yearning body. Alysa felt her passion building to an uncontrollable and feverish pitch.

  Gavin’s hands roamed her body tentatively, as if he were hesitant to touch her. Her hands gently clasped his head and meshed their mouths hungrily. She heard a groan of desire escape his lips as they nibbled at hers. No matter how many times he kissed her, her mouth seemed to plead for another and another. There was no place on her flesh which did not crave to be touched and stroked. It had been so long, and she wanted him desperately, swiftly, urgently, and forever.

  Alysa leaned away slightly and tried to remove his upper garment. Gavin shifted to assist her bold action. His green eyes widened in surprise when she pulled off her own over-tunic and kirtle, baring her body to his gaze and touch. “I am yours, Gavin. Do not hesitate to touch me or take me. Even if I am a princess, I am your woman first. I love you and want you, more so tonight than ever before. Do not restrain yourself. Love me freely and wildly.”

  Gavin’s igneous gaze roved her face and body with intense desire that could not be masked. In the light of the camp fire she saw beads of moisture appear and glisten on his brow, upper lip, and in the enticing depression beneath his lower one. Her tongue mischievously licked it away, then danced over his mouth.

  Gavin groaned once more and pressed Alysa to her back, searing kisses over her throat and chest before fastening his mouth to a supple breast. He teased his lips and teeth over both, stimulating them to eager life. At his action, the taut peaks became harder and her breasts firmer. He fondled them and kissed them for several minutes as Alysa’s fingers played in his tawny hair and her head arched with pleasure.

  Gavin found another bud and tantalized it until it grew fiery and hard and burst into beautiful bloom. He felt her fumbling with his battle apron, and realized she did not know how to unfasten it. While kissing her greedily, he removed it and his loincloth, leaving nothing between them.

  Their ravenous bodies met and clung together, feasting madly and creating stunningly blissful temptations. Creamy flesh titillated golden flesh, and golden flesh did the same to creamy flesh. Emotion-dampened skins caressed each other and caused passion’s flames to burn brighter and hotter than the fire nearby.

  Each lover’s hands and lips journeyed over the other’s body. They kissed, caressed, and examined this magic between them, this irresistible force that had drawn them together and bound them tightly. As if they had forever to linger
making love, all inhibitions and modesty were cast aside. Together they explored and enjoyed this greatest and rarest adventure of all: love.

  Gavin was glad the royal tattoo was missing, as he relished being able to feel lips traveling over his muscled chest. Never had he experienced anything so rapturous and enlivening as surrendering himself to this unique woman and claiming her at the same time.

  When he could take no more of her staggering torture upon his senses, he captured her exquisite face between his hands, gazed deeply into her passion-glazed eyes, and vowed hoarsely, “I love you, Alysa Malvern, I love you with all my being.” As she smiled happily into his eyes, he joined their bodies, to labor lovingly, persistently, intoxicatingly, until mutual victory was theirs.

  They nestled together between the blankets which, thankfully, he had brought with him, kissing lightly as they gradually relaxed. The fire was nearly out, and the damp air was getting chilly. Gavin reached across her to toss a few more small branches on the fire. The fresh wood crackled, popped, and caught fire slowly. Gavin lay down on his side and curled against her, locking her within his protective embrace.

  As she wiggled to make sure no space was left between their naked flesh, he chuckled and teased, “Lie still, m’love, or you shall get no rest tonight. You can have me again at dawn, and noon, and dusk. We shall remain here during the day, then travel to the castle at night.”

  Those plans sounded wonderful to Alysa. She sighed peacefully and teased, “If I must wait for you to rest, my weary dragon, then I must.”

  Gavin nibbled seductively at her nape and bare shoulder. “I was restraining myself because of your fatigue, m’love. If you have- none, turn to me and take me again,” he coaxed.

  Alysa rolled to her back and fused her gaze to his. “Fatigue or not, my meetings with you are too scant not to be used fully.”

  That was all the encouragement either needed…. After which he held her serenely until they were asleep.

  At Malvern Castle Thursday morning more treachery was afoot. Baltair returned from Land’s End, where Ahern Castle stood against the bleak coastal setting where Moran had been sired and now ruled.

  As the seneschal passed through the Great Hall, Kyra rushed to him and said, “I must see you privately, Baltair. Wicked things have happened during your absence. Mother is—We cannot speak here. If we are caught, we will be slain. Treason abounds, Baltair, and you must save the prince. Hurry to my chamber where we can talk. We must find a way to thwart Mother’s evil.” She rushed away from the intrigued man, who responded rapidly to her summons.

  Kyra let Baltair into her room then locked the door. She paced nervously, dramatically. She had to carry out the murder of Isobail’s enemy as she and Earnon had planned, not as her mother insidiously desired. By helping her mother get rid of Baltair, it should make the woman beholden to her, especially since Isobail seemed to hate Alric’s seneschal so deeply. When Baltair asked her to explain her fears, she sat down at the table where he was waiting, and poured them tea, with a strawlike herb inserted in Baltair’s, supposedly for flavoring. In fact, the special herb would interact with the potion in the tea, activating it. Kyra pretended to drink hers while she calmed herself. “I am so afraid, Baltair,” she murmured as he drained his cup.

  “Why so, Princess Kyra?”

  “I believe Mother is trying to kill Prince Alric and take over this land. Sir Calum is her hireling, and she has given me to him as his reward. She has always hated me, and this is her way of punishing me. Have you never heard of Calum’s cruelty to women in bed?”

  Kyra babbled on as she waited for the maddening drug to take effect, as Earnon had said it would. When Baltair’s head began to fall this way and that and his brown eyes took on a glazed look, Kyra retrieved the strawlike herb and tossed it into his face. As Earnon had taught her she chanted, “Wisp-of-Straw, blind him to all things but me. Wisp-of-Straw, make his blood boil for me. Wisp-of-Straw, make his manhood ache for me. Wisp-of-Straw, control him for me.”

  Quickly Kyra pulled off part of his garments and tossed them around the room. She rumpled the bed and flung covers here and there. She ripped her garments and mussed her hair. After she unlocked the door she went to the window and screamed several times. Then, as instructed by her lover, Kyra approached the dazed seneschal and said, “By the Wisp-of-Straw I command you to ravish me wildly. Let no man or threat halt you.”

  Driven mad and lustful by the powerful herbs, Baltair seized Kyra, dragged her to the bed, and began to rip wildly at her already torn garments. Kyra commanded, “By Wisp-of-Straw, the more I scream, the more you shall desire me. You must kill anyone who tries to stop you from possessing me. By Wisp-of-Straw, ravish me now or die trying, Baltair.”

  Kyra screamed and screamed, arousing Baltair to the height of madness. Then she feared the guards would arrive too late, as his strength and desire were too strong to battle. When they finally burst into the room, Baltair had imprisoned her beneath him and was trying to drive his exposed manhood into her sprawled body. Several inquisitive servants peeked inside the noisy chamber and could not believe what they witnessed.

  The guards’ commands to halt his brutal attack had no effect on the crazed Baltair. He ordered them to leave, vowing he must have Kyra. When the men pulled him off her he battled them to get back to Kyra. “She is mine, not Calum’s! Get out! I must take her!”

  Baltair snatched a dagger from one of the guards and shouted, “I will slay you all if you do not leave so I can possess her. Mine!” he shouted. “She is mine, or she is no one’s! I will kill her first!”

  When Baltair tried to slay Kyra, one of the guards’ drew his sword and slew the madman. Kyra stared at the bloody corpse and sobbed, grasping her torn garments about her bruised body.

  One of the guards comforted her “Do not weep, m’lady. You are safe now.”

  “What will everyone say?” Kyra sobbed. “I swear I did not entice him. He came to my chamber and pleaded with me to wed him, not Calum. When I told him I loved Calum, he went mad.”

  “We saw m’lady, and we will avow to it. No one can blame you,” the man said. Although astounded by the gentle Baltair’s crazed behavior, the other guards agreed that she was guiltless.

  Kyra looked at them and smiled through her tears. “You are so kind, sirs,” she said as fresh tears flowed.

  As planned, Isobail rushed into the chamber and demanded, “What is wrong here?”

  Kyra glanced at her mother and began to sob, allowing the guards and servants to relate the grim tale. Isobail went to her daughter embraced her and commanded, “Take his body and burn it. Perhaps his death will end the curse that hovers over my husband and land. Spread the word that his name shall not be spoken again and his life is to be forgotten. Destroy his possessions and seal his chamber, for we must not allow his evil to attack others. Anyone who disobeys my order will he banished.”

  After ordering everyone from the room, Isobail eyed Kyra’s disheveled state and asked, “Did he harm you? Were the guards too late?”

  Kyra sobbed and continued to dissemble, thinking to use the event with Baltair to cover her affair with Earnon. “I fear they were too late, Mother. Whatever shall I tell Calum? The potion was so strong that I could not fend him off before he drove himself within me. I struggled and managed to roll free before the guards arrived, so they do not know Baltair entered me. He did not complete his task, but I am no longer pure. Calum will know after we wed. What if he is angry and refuses me as his wife? Help me, Mother, for I obeyed you and now Baltair is dead.”

  “Do not worry. Calum will understand when you tell him. Wait until your wedding night, then confess this deed and beg his forgiveness.” “What if he does not understand or forgive me?” Kyra asked.

  “I will speak with Calum and explain. If he balks, I will command him to keep silent and accept you. You are beautiful and clever; use your wiles on him. Remember all he can give you.”

  Nineteen

  Late Thursday afternoon G
avin returned to the cave after completing a lengthy task. He was greeted by a relieved and joyful Alysa, who embraced him and covered his face with kisses. He had gone back to the campsite where he had rescued her to bury the brigands’ bodies and possessions and to free their horses.

  “If no one finds them for a long time, m’love, it will aid our cause. Our little tale should protect you, please Isobail, confuse and infuriate Skane, and fool everybody.”

  “You are so clever, Gavin,” she said. “I was such a fool to try to run…” She hesitated, lowered her eyes. She confessed that she had been escaping to King Bardwyn, candidly explaining why.

  “You have doubted me badly, m’love,” Gavin told her. “I only seek to unmask the brigands and your stepmother. I have told you my raids are false. What more do you expect of me? Is there some reason why you continue to have such suspicions?”

  “I am sorry I mistrusted you, Gavin, but I was confused, and I am so afraid for my father. You were a stranger, and things were so terrible here. Please do not be angry with me,” she beseeched him.

  “Calm yourself, m’love; I understand everything now.” He cuddled her head against his chest and stroked her hair. “All that matters to me is your safety, and that of your father and your land.”

  “I know Father’s illness is unnatural, Gavin, and I do not know how to battle its source. Either it is a wicked spell or his evil wife knows some way of. getting the poison into him that I cannot uncover. I tried to give him healing herbs, but they do not work. Oh, I only wish I knew why they did not work. Granmannie, I know, does not like Father, and because of that I have wondered about the herbs she gave me…”

  “Perhaps she gave you the wrong pouch,” Gavin replied. “Or, if her eyes are old and bad, perhaps she gathered the wrong herbs. I can see you love her deeply and this matter pains you. Why do you not wait until she explains before you judge her guilty?”