Wild Is My Love

by Janelle Taylor

  “No, Alysa, I will not excuse you, nor release you, tonight or ever. After we spend a few hours in your bed, you will have no choice but to marry me tomorrow,” he said calmly; too calmly.

  “What are you saying?” she demanded, glaring at him.

  Moran rapidly covered the distance separating them. Clasping the arms of her chair, he imprisoned her in it. He bent forward until he was nearly nose to nose with her. “I am saying you will become mine tonight, all mine. Do you feel strange, Alysa? Perhaps a little weak and hungry—hungry for me? Come to bed and I shall feed you.”

  Alysa gaped at the crude man who suddenly looked ugly and vile to her. “Nay, I feel fine, my wicked stepbrother.”

  “Not for long,” he vowed, then snatched her into his arms, carried her to the bed, and tossed her upon it.

  Alysa scrambled off the other side and yelled at him, “Get away from me, you vulgar beast! I detest you. I will never marry you or surrender to you, with or without your seductive potions!”

  The truth that she had eluded the drug dawned on Moran, and it infuriated him to be outsmarted. “With or without magic potions,” he sneered, “by the devils below us, I will have you!”

  “Come near me and I will slay you, vile dog.”

  Moran laughed sardonically. “We shall see, little mouse, we shall see.” His menacing look intimidated her, as he knew it would.

  Alysa wished Gavin would appear and battle this enemy, but he was not to return to her side for two days. She feared that even if she screamed for help, no one would rescue her. Still, she had to try, as Moran was strong and determined to ravish her. She ran to the window and got out one cry for help before Moran yanked her away from it. They struggled wildly as he ripped at her clothes, casting entangled shadows on the wall from her lamplights. His hands were rough and painful as tried to subdue her, meanwhile laughing and taunting her, and her terror mounted. Then her reason returned, and as Piaras had taught her long ago, Alysa entangled his leg and flung him to the stone floor. She seized the wine jug and slammed it against his head, knocking him unconscious. Almost immediately the door opened and she jerked around to see who had entered.

  Thisbe and Teague surged forward and gaped at the fallen knight with a bloody temple. Teague checked him and told her, “I heard you scream and I saw Moran in the window. He will come to his senses soon, Alysa, You must flee. Come, I will help you get away.”

  Alysa sneaked out the door and into the outer ward. She hurried to the south gate behind her tower, she concealed herself under the torch-lit portcullis, and waited for Teague to fetch Calliope. To make it appear he was only walking the horse, Teague did not saddle him, as instructed by Alysa, who could ride bareback skillfully.

  Teague had left Thisbe in the stable saddling two horses for them. As Thisbe had confided all she knew to her betrothed and things appeared to be getting worse, they planned to get away with Alysa. Since the princess’s safety came first, Squire Teague walked Calliope around the inner wall near the steep embankment to the river, Moran shouted an alarm from Alysa’s window, “Seize Princess Alysa! Do not let her leave the castle!”

  Without delay or second thought, Teague ran the horse to Alric’s daughter. “Go quickly, Princess. They will be upon us in a few moments. I will guard your back.”

  “Nay, Teague,” she protested. “I cannot leave you and Thisbe to face Moran and Isobail.”

  “If Prince Alric dies at their hands, you are our ruler. You must stay alive to defeat them. Do not argue! Go!”

  Alysa hated to desert him in such danger, but she obeyed. She mounted Calliope as Teague raised the small gate. To make certain no one galloped after her, Teague used his sword to cut the ropes. The gate crashed down and locked in place. Knowing the futility of battling the four guards coming at him, Teague lay his sword on the ground and lifted his hands in surrender. He knew a dead man could not find a way to escape.

  As ordered if an alarm was sounded, Thisbe concealed herself until she could slip to her room. She could not bear the uncertainty of her love’s fate, but had to remain free to help him later.

  News spread quickly of Alysa’s flight. Moran alleged she had fled because she was sick and confused, and had not been herself “since those barbaric brigands abducted her.” He claimed she had ranted wildly about hunting them down and killing them this very night. Moran asserted his fears that she would fall prey to them again. He gathered his mother’s faithful men and raced off after Alysa, who had a good head start. Teague was captured “for allowing the disoriented princess to trick him into aiding her to imperil her life.” He was taken to the dungeon and imprisoned there, to await Moran’s return and torture.

  Alysa molded herself against Calliope’s back and held securely to his mane. Sensing his mistress’s urgency, the horse raced as swiftly as possible toward the concealing woods. Alysa knew her foes could not trail her easily in the dark, but she made deceptive tracks to mislead them at first light. To hide her true direction, she used two streams, blended Calliope’s tracks into other sets of hoof prints on the dirt road, and doubled back a few times. When she thought it safe to proceed, she rode to the tree where she and Gavin had left messages for each other. Surely her love would come here when he heard of her escape. She paced for nearly an hour before sitting down and leaning against the special tree. She rested her forehead on her raised knees, closed her moist eyes, and prayed.

  Wednesday morning Gavin gingerly approached Trahern, as he had seen the sheriff galloping here and there with a red sash tied to his arm: the signal for an urgent meeting. “You summoned me?” Gavin inquired, nodding to the blood-colored cloth.

  “Yes,” Trahern stated, clearly relieved to see him. “I was afraid you were not in this area today. We have more trouble with Alric’s daughter.”

  Gavin struggled to remain calm. “What kind of trouble this time?” he asked, trying to sound annoyed with her.

  “Moran got a little too … friendly last night, and she ran away. We have to get her back to the castle before she runs her mouth and causes problems for us. If you see her, catch her and hold her for me. You will receive a big reward this time.”

  “How did she get away from Isobail’s son and out of the castle?”

  “The little enchantress clobbered Moran with a wine jug and sneaked outside. She had help from a friend getting away. Squire Teague let her out the back gate, then chopped the lift rope to impede our chase. We have him in the dungeon. I am sure the prince has plans for him when he gets back to the castle; Moran has been searching for Alysa all night. As far as I know, she has not been found. Damn clever wench, if you ask me.”

  “Any idea which way she headed?” Gavin asked. He prayed his tone revealed a nonchalance he did not feel.

  “I told you she is a clever girl; we found her tracks everywhere. I think she set up false trails to fool us. She could be anywhere by now. Find her, Gavin, or Isobail will flog us both.”

  Gavin chuckled slyly. “I promise you I will have her within my grasp before she can convince anyone of her tales. When I have her back, I will hang a red cloth on that last tree in the meadow before reaching the castle. Check it every morning and night for my signal. After you see it, meet me near the edge of the forest at the next dawn or dusk to retrieve her. She will be safe, if she behaves.”

  “Make sure she is not harmed, if you grasp my meaning.”

  Gavin scowled effectively. “If I wanted the little enchantress, as you called her, I would have taken her the last time I had her. Who could notice a silly young girl with a stepmother like Isobail around? The princess is what I call a real woman, a matchless beauty. When she moves or talks or smiles or speaks, I get all hot. Why not make my reward a night with her?” he suggested, hoping his feigned interest in Isobail would enflame Trahern.

  Trahern’s face glowed with anger as he eyed the virile outlaw who stood before him. “Keep away from Isobail, Hawk.”

  Gavin lifted his brows in faked enlightenment and grinned. “You
lucky devil, Trahern. She belongs to you! I should have guessed from the way you treat her. Surely you realize she is a woman of fiery blood and great passion, the kind of woman a man finds hard to keep and sate. She is mighty tempting. If I were you, Trahern, I would stick close and hold her tightly.”

  “I plan to do both, Hawk, and you remember it.”

  “You give the orders,” Gavin remarked genially.

  Alysa hugged Gavin tightly and cried softly in his comforting embrace. She had told him she was uninjured, just frightened. She lifted her tear-streaked face and murmured, “Dear Teague must be in such danger, my love. We must help him escape. I cannot imagine what they will do to him. The secret passage has an entry to the dungeon. I am sure they will imprison him there. We must free him, Gavin.”

  “Not today, m’love. They will be guarding him closely this soon. No doubt they are questioning him about you. We cannot risk capture. I promise to rescue him,” he swore, and recalled Giselde’s premonitions about him saving the man he had once viewed as his rival.

  “I wonder if Thisbe is in peril, too, and her father Piaras,” Alysa said. “They are in danger because of me, Gavin. I must help all of them.”

  “I saw Sir Piaras before I came here to look for your. He was. heading to Lord Grin’s to relate his son’s trouble. I asked him to explain everything to Lord Orin and demand the man’s loyalty and help.”

  “At least he is safe, but what of Teague and Thisbe?” she pressed.

  “Come, I must take you to safety at Trosdan’s cave. Then we will decide what to do about your friends. Giselde is there; she can advise and comfort you.”

  “I need no one tonight except you,” she said.

  Gavin briefly tightened his embrace and placed kisses on her forehead and hair. “The same is true of me, love. I have never been so scared as when I heard of your bold escape. I know it could be perilous to remain here for the night, but I believe we know the forest better than anyone.” Lifting her chin and looking into her eyes, he said, “I promise you, Alysa, nothing will happen to you or your friends.”

  “As long as I have you, I will fear nothing and no one.” She pulled his mouth down to hers and sealed their lips.

  They kissed and caressed until Gavin used his saddle blanket to make them a bed upon the dewy ground. They undressed and fused their bodies eagerly and urgently, then Gavin held her securely in his arms while she slept as peacefully as possible.

  In the large and torch-lit dungeon of Malvern Castle, Moran circled the suspended body of Teague, clad only in a loincloth, deciding which torment he would use first to extract the information he needed—the hiding place of Princess Alysa. Upon his return, he had questioned the Squire for over an hour, but Teague kept silent. Moran’s fury mounted steadily to an eruptive level. He lifted a whip and seemingly fondled it before violently lashing Teague across his back, chest, and legs. The twenty-year-old redhead groaned and shook his head. He would not speak.

  Moran laughed satanically. He read fear in Teague’s blue eyes, fear which the captive could not hide completely. “I will arrest your father, charge your entire family of treachery against the Crown, destroy you all!” He shrieked the words with each lash of the whip and Teague screamed in pain, but revealed nothing.

  Moran threw aside the whip and approached a round hearth which held glowing coals. He lifted a metal pole whose tip was fiery red. Wisps of smoke rose from its point as the Prince came to stand before the squire. “You are being brave and foolish for naught,” Moran warned, touching the hot poker to Teague’s vulnerable belly. Teague smelled the odor of his own burning flesh and moaned. Then, when he looked across the dungeon floor and saw Isobail approaching, smiling the same sadistic smile as her son, he knew he was lost.

  It was nearing dawn when an exhausted and painriddled Teague could endure no more torture from Isobail and her son. He had been tormented for long hours, and in great agony, finally revealed the location of Giselde’s hut. Even amidst his pain he did not call the old woman by name, he only called her “the old witch in the royal forest.” He mumbled that Alysa had met the old woman while playing there as a child and liked to visit her, helplessly disclosing that Alysa might have gone there to hide from Moran.

  Thinking they had won a victory, Moran and Isobail exchanged pleased smiles. They lowered Teague to a blanket on the stone floor in the dungeon and covered him with another one, but did not untie him.

  As they left the guarded underground room, Isobail whispered to Moran, “I will awaken Trahern and send him to find this old witch. If Alysa is not with her, we will bring the old woman here and entice information from her lips. We will let Teague rest all day, then enjoy ourselves with him again tonight. I am sure he knows more than he has revealed.”

  After an intensive search, Trahern located the hut, but could not find Alysa or the woman who lived there. He searched the cluttered abode and the area around it, then burned the dwelling to the ground. He reported to Isobail, who was not pleased with his failure to find either woman. She demanded he look for Alysa until she was found.

  That day held another annoyance for the weary Isobail, who had not gone to bed until Trahern’s return from the forest: Kyra arrived and related her grim news of Sir Calum’s death. “Some force is working against me, but I shall defeat it!” Isobail raved in fatigue and vexation. After pondering this new situation, she announced, “I will place Sir Phelan in charge there.”

  Kyra argued boldly, “Nay, Mother, it is my castle and land. You promised it to me for slaying Baltair. I came to tell you of this matter in person, for I did not know whom to trust with a message. I will work with you and control that area for you. It is mine by right.”

  “Do not be greedy, sister,” Moran said, having been aroused from his light slumber by Kyra’s noisy arrival. “Mother knows what is best. Why not marry Phelan, then you can still have Daron’s holdings?”

  “That groping pig? Never, little brother! Leave the room, as this matter is between Mother and me,” the girl ordered coldly, furious because Isobail had allowed him to join their private conversation. It gradually became obvious that Moran was now in her mother’s confidence, that the two were working hand in hand and trying to exclude her.

  Isobail turned to Moran and revealed the details of her plot to usurp Damnonia and then conquer Logris. Kyra was not surprised, but at first Moran looked shocked. Then greed and pleasure flooded his features. “I am proud of you, Mother. I will be loyal to you in all matters. Command me and I will obey.”

  “Kyra, do you feel the same?” Isobail challenged her daughter.

  Kyra had a powerful urge to physically attack her mother, but quelled it. “I will help you any way I can, Mother, but that area is mine. Moran has Kelton’s holdings. Why can I not have Daron’s?”

  In an unpleasantly condescending manner, Isobail replied, “You are a young woman, so men will not obey you. Surely you realize that a princess by marriage only has no real power? Besides, there has not been enough time since your marriage to win the people’s confidence. I require a strong and loyal knight on the Logris border. You can marry Phelan or remain here.”

  “Nay!” Kyra replied with visible hostility. “I wish to marry Earnon and share Daron Castle with him. We can hold that area for you. No one would dare disobey your close advisor.”

  “Earnon? You and Earnon?” Isobail said skeptically, insultingly.

  Moran quickly interjected, “They have been lovers for a long time, Mother. Kyra coerced me into silence about them. After I was knighted and left the castle, I decided to sever her grip on me by telling you everything when I returned home. But with Kyra gone and with things so hectic here, I truly forgot about it.”

  Kyra called Moran vulgar names until Isobail silenced her with a demand to know how her son was being compelled into secrecy. Kyra glared at both of them and insisted on telling her side of this matter.

  “Later!” Isobail warned sharply. “Moran, explain this deceit.”

  Mo
ran claimed he had discovered the affair by accident, then confronted Kyra with it. His sister had constrained him to silence by threatening to expose his sensual nature and behavior to Alysa. “I could not allow Kyra to destroy my progress with Alysa, so I agreed. But I only planned to keep silent until Alysa was mine and it would not matter what Kyra told her. Then, after I left for Ahern Castle, I realized you could keep Kyra silent for me because you also wanted this marriage between me and Alric’s daughter.”

  Not wishing to make a deadly enemy of his sister, Moran cleverly said, “Kyra and I have never gotten along well, but she is my sister and I do love her. I think she truly loves Earnon and should marry him one day. Until that time; perhaps she could keep him as her lover. But first she needs to help you win your greatest victory, by marrying Phelan or anyone necessary. I will do the same, Mother, anything you command of me. As heir to all you obtain, I will work hard to make your kingdom large and powerful.”

  Kyra wondered why Moran was now trying to help her. There had to be a motive. For now, she decided, she would accept his assistance.

  Isobail’s face had gone scarlet with rage as she comprehended how Kyra and Earnon had duped her. “Baltair never touched you, liar; you only said that he had in order to conceal your treachery, and Earnon’s!” The moment Isobail made that accusation, she realized that Earnon had probably told Kyra everything. “You and Earnon worked together and deceived me! I shall never forgive either of you. You killed Calum, did you not?” she accused.

  “Ask anyone there; he choked to death,” Kyra shouted back.

  “With your help, you little witch—yours and Earnon’s! Damn you, Kyra, I needed Calum there and Phelan at Lord Fergus’s! Your greed could spoil everything. You shall be punished, girl.”