by Lori Dillon
"I am of Gosforth."
"Are you?" Surprise registered on the knight's face. "I thought there were none of you left."
"I am the last."
Sir Roderick straightened, interest and excitement radiating from him. "So you go to reclaim your lands, then?"
"That I do. But it will have to wait until after Lady Jill and I have completed our quest." If they completed it. He couldn't very well take on the mantle of Lord of Gosforth if he was still a dragon.
"A quest? How noble. What is it?"
"That, I am not at liberty to reveal."
"I see." The knight nodded, but would not be swayed. "A secret quest. Tell me, do you both seek the same thing?"
"In a way we do. The same thing, but for different reasons."
"How intriguing." Kendale smiled and toasted Baelin with his goblet of wine. "I always enjoy an adventurous journey. If you will permit it, perhaps I shall join you and Lady Jill on this secret quest of yours, since there seems to be a shortage of dragons about."
Baelin looked down into his goblet of wine. Instead of his own reflection, he saw the dragon staring back at him from its mirrored surface.
"I do not know about that. There may be one closer than you think."
CHAPTER 17
"What do you mean, they're coming with us?"
Baelin had thought long and hard about allowing the dragonslayer to accompany them as far as the next town. He hadn't told him they'd been avoiding towns ever since Lady Jill's unfortunate experience in the last one.
"After you sought your blankets, Sir Roderick told me more of who he is."
"So?"
Baelin tried to explain, though he knew Lady Jill would never truly understand a knight's code and all it entailed. But after learning of the knight's lineage, his duty to the man's family turned out to be far deeper than a chivalrous pledge made on bended knee. "'Twas his forefather who fostered me, his kinsman who knighted me, men of his blood who died beside me fighting the Dark Witch and her dragons. I cannot turn him away."
Lady Jill shook her head. "That was over two hundred years ago. It doesn't matter who his great, great, great-granddaddy was. The man asking to join this little convoy of ours is a professional dragon hit man."
She was right, and Baelin was just as uneasy about it. But as he'd lain awake last night, contemplating the situation, another possibility had come to him.
"Have you given no thought that this knight may be the next challenge?"
She glanced to where Kendale and the boy were busy packing up their supplies. "Him? Mr. I'm-Too-Sexy-for-Myself? You've got to be kidding."
A prickling akin to jealousy welled within him. Jealousy? Nay, he refused to acknowledge the emotion. But try as he might, he couldn't swallow the bitter taste that formed in his mouth at the notion she found the knight attractive. At least, that's what he thought she meant by her words. With Lady Jill, he never knew for certain.
Nay, it was probably just the dragon's sense of possession rearing its ugly head again. He had to remind the beast within she was not his to possess. She was a means to an end and naught else.
"How are we to know in what form the challenges will present themselves? After all, he found us. Or rather, he found you. We should bide our time and see what this chance meeting brings." He watched her chew on her lower lip, never taking her eyes off the other knight. "Do not worry. I will do all within my power to keep you safe while he is with us."
She finally tore her gaze away from Kendale. "It's not me I'm worried about, it's you. Letting him spend one night with us was risky enough, but traveling all day together is flirting with disaster. What if he finds out who, or rather, what you are? Being the self-proclaimed world champion dragonslayer he thinks he is, he'll try to kill you and where would that leave me?"
"Ah, yes. Where would that leave you?" He regarded her coolly. Alone with 'Mr. I'm-Too-Sexy-for-Myself,' for one thing. "I wonder which you find more disturbing—the possibility I could die at the end of Sir Roderick's sword or that if I am slain, you will be forced to live out the rest of your days in this time?"
"Of course I don't want you to die, you idiot." She punched him in the shoulder with her fist. "I don't anybody to die. But I'm not thrilled about hanging out in the thirteenth century one more minute than I have to, either."
She growled her frustration. Baelin was not certain he'd ever heard a woman make that particular sound before. Another dragon, certainly. But a woman? Nay.
"It's not a one or the other situation and you know it," she continued on. "I want to go home as much as you want to stay alive long enough to break this curse of yours. And to make both of those things happen, we need to make sure Roderick doesn't find out what you are and turn your alligator hide into a new pair of boots. Having him come with us is just asking for trouble. You might as well go ahead and paint a big old bull's-eye on your chest."
Baelin's head spun at her words. He did not know whether to be touched that she worried for his safety or offended she thought he might lose in a fight to the other knight.
"'Tis too late. The offer has been made. I cannot withdraw it now."
"Of course not. I'm sure it would offend some medieval Miss Manners if you did. Personally, it wouldn't bother me one bit to tell him to go find someone else to tag along with." She wagged her finger at him. "Fine. This is your call. But if this blows up in your face, the screw-up goes on your tab this time, not mine."
She turned and stomped away. He stared after her, fascinated by her angry movements as she shoved their supplies back into the satchels.
The brief pang of jealousy he'd felt when she said she thought Kendale attractive was softened by the knowledge she was as displeased as he was to have the other man around. He didn't know why, but foul breath or not, she preferred his company to that of the handsome knight, and the thought stirred a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the dragon's fire burning within.
As Baelin moved to pack his own supplies, the wet snort of Kendale's horse announced his presence behind him. The knight made a show of looking around their camp, a frown marring his brow.
"What, have you no mounts?" he asked.
What, have you only now noticed?
Baelin was about to say they'd been stolen, but Lady Jill answered for him before he could put voice to the lie.
"Allergies."
The knight looked at her strangely. "Allergies?"
"Sir Baelin can't be around horses. It's the hair. It makes him sneeze, his nose gets all stuffy. Itchy, watery eyes." She bowed her head and mumbled something about sounding like a Claritin commercial, whatever that was.
"Ah." Kendale nodded in understanding. "That 'tis an unfortunate aliment for a knight to have. How inconvenient."
"Aye, it 'tis. If you will excuse us?" Baelin pulled Lady Jill aside, out of earshot of the knight. "Horses make me ill? Why did you tell him that?"
"Would you rather I told him you ate yours for a midnight snack?"
"I did not eat my horse."
"I stand corrected. You eat other people's horses. But since I couldn't tell him that, it was the only explanation I could think of on such short notice." She shrugged as she slipped the strap of her satchel over her shoulder. "Besides, it's not completely untrue, although it's more the other way around and the horses are allergic to you."
"Why not say 'twas you who has the aversion to the beasts?"
"Yes, I guess that would've been less of a blow to your male ego, but we can't do anything about it now, can we?"
Lady Jill smirked, strolling away from him with a haughty sway to her hips. His frown deepened as he watched her pass by man and steed, the knight also taking note of her enticing form.
"My lady," Kendale called after her. "Since you have no mount, I would be honored if you would accompany me upon mine. I can not abide to ride when you are forced to walk."
Baelin didn't fail to miss the insult, intentional or not, in the knight's words. Shame lashed at him that he
could not provide a mount for Lady Jill, but instead forced her to walk like a common peasant. Little did the dragonslayer realize if his own mount were not so well-trained and accustomed to hunting dragons, he too would be walking, his horse long gone from the fear of the beast.
"Thanks, but I don't want to put too much weight on your horse."
"But you are so light and delicate, I am certain Flaume Stelan will not even notice," he patted the horse's neck, all the while smiling that charming smile at Lady Jill.
"Flaume Stelan?"
"It means 'flame stealer'."
"Of course it does." She slid her gaze to Baelin, a tight smile painted on her face. "What else would a dragonslayer name his horse?"
As they rode throughout the morning, Kendale held his mount to a slow pace. However, every time Baelin drew near, the horse would suddenly speed up and put more distance between them. Maybe the animal was jittery sensing a dragon on its tail, but he suspected the knight was doing it on purpose.
It did little good. With the dragon's acute hearing, he could not help but overhear every word they spoke, even from a distance. Would that he could close his ears so he wouldn't have to listen to the way the knight flirted shamelessly with Lady Jill.
"Fair lady, your beauty rivals that of any flower of the field and your voice enchants me with its musical lilt from a land far away."
Baelin heard her snort. "Does that cheesy line really work on the women around here?"
Kendale was struck silent for a moment, then he tossed his head back and laughed. Baelin saw him swipe at tears as he struggled to regain his composure.
"Aye, my lady. It usually does. But I venture it is not working with you."
"No, it's not. So you can take your pretty poetry and odes to my eyebrows and shove them back in your pocket, because it's getting pretty deep around here."
The knight sobered and spoke to her with all seriousness. "Ah, but that is where you are wrong. You do enchant me. I have never, in all my travels, met a woman such as you."
"Now that I believe."
He watched on as Kendale rode with his arms wrapped around Lady Jill's waist. He hated that the other knight was able to touch her, to hold her, when he could not. To put his arms about her slender waist and pull her luscious body against his. But he couldn't very well force her to walk when she could ride.
Yet again, Baelin cursed the dragon part of him that prevented him from being like any other man. Prevented him the simple act of riding a horse.
He wished he could take the lead so he wouldn't have to look at them, but every time he attempted to go around, Kendale would nudge his horse and lope ahead, curse the man.
Walking downwind from Lady Jill, the gentle breeze tantalized him, carrying the subtle fragrance that was hers on fleeting wisps to tease him. Only now, her sweet scent was mingled with another's, tainted by horse and man.
It was as if his every dragon sense stood heightened just to taunt him, at least where Lady Jill was concerned. Just then, she laughed at something witty the knight said and the creature within, the one that hoarded treasure of gold and silver and precious gems, roared to life. But Baelin's inner beast coveted a different treasure now—one of flesh and bone, of emerald-flecked eyes and hair of silk. As much as he hated the monster he was, he couldn't deny the nature of the animal within him.
"Mine."
"Did you say something, my lord?"
He turned to find young Owen riding up beside him. The boy struggled to keep his small pony under control as the animal rolled its eyes at Baelin. Aye, you should be frightened, you mangy beast. With the mood I'm in, I just might eat you.
"Nay, I was merely speaking to myself." Just as Lady Jill does. 'Twas yet another sign how much she'd affected him in the short time they'd been together.
Owen caught Baelin's penetrating stare at the pair riding ahead of them. "Fear not, my lord. Sir Roderick will let no harm befall her."
"I cannot help but wonder if it is not Sir Roderick I should be worried about."
"Why?"
He tried to choose his words carefully. There was no need to insult the boy's master. "He seems to be overly…friendly, does he not?"
Owen's young brow furrowed as he considered the pair riding ahead. "Sir Roderick is that way with all the ladies and they adore him for it. His skill with the fairer sex is quite renowned."
"'Tis what I am worried about."
"You should not worry overmuch. He has never been one to force his attentions. All I have seen in his company have been most willing."
"That certainly eases my mind." Not in the least. For in truth, what did he know of Lady Jill and men she fancied? After all, she herself confessed she was no longer a maid, and yet she'd never been wed. Did the women of her time give of themselves so freely? He did not want to think it so, especially not with a man like Kendale about.
Nay, he knew her well enough to know she was not any man's whore. Still, he could not help but wonder that if she had been seduced once before by a man from her future, could she be as easily swayed by a practiced courtier from his time? The very possibility had the dragon snarling to take back what was his.
"Damn it, Roderick," came Lady Jill's annoyed voice from up ahead, "if that hand of yours creeps any higher, you're going to be singing soprano in the next three-point-five seconds."
The knight chuckled, Owen snickered and Baelin growled, his hand on his sword hilt until Kendale raised his arm in a sign of surrender.
"A thousand pardons, my lady. I was merely making sure you do not fall," he said in his defense, but he did not bother to hide the humor in the tone of his voice.
"I'll just bet you were." Lady Jill took the offending hand and placed it on the knight's mail-covered thigh. "Move it again and you're going to have to learn how to wield a sword left-handed for the rest of your life."
Owen couldn't suppress his boyish laughter any longer, even at his master's expense. "Lady Jill, she is not like any other woman I have ever met before."
"Nay, she is not."
He grinned at Baelin. "I like her."
He returned the boy's smile and eased his sword back to rest within its sheath, comforted for the time being that Lady Jill could handle the amorous knight in her own peculiar way.
"So do I, lad. So do I."
At that moment, he caught sight of Lady Jill craning her head around the knight's large form to glance behind them.
"Fear not, my lady," he heard Kendale say. "He is still there, most like staring daggers at my back."
Surprise straightened her spine. "As a matter of fact, he is. So why are you doing it?"
"Paying homage to your beauty?" he shrugged. "'Tis what a knight does when in the company of a lovely lady."
"That's not what I mean. You know I'm with Baelin, but you keep coming on to me. Why?"
Baelin could well imagine the knight's confusion at her strange words. "Coming on?"
"Flirting. Sweet-talking. Trying to get in my pants."
Kendale nodded. "Ah, but as you told me last night, you are a free woman, at liberty to be with whomever you choose. Am I correct?"
"Yes, but—"
"And as I understand it, Gosforth has no claim on you, save as your escort. True?"
"True, but—"
"Then that means I am free to come on to you, am I not?"
"No, it does not!" she sputtered.
Kendale laughed, then leaned in to whisper in Lady Jill's ear, but Baelin heard the knight's softly spoken words all the same. "And what of Sir Baelin? Do you hold affection in your heart for him?"
Baelin nearly stumbled. He slowed his steps, his ears pricked to hear her answer.
"It doesn't matter. We won't be together long enough for anything more than friendship."
"Ah, yes. He told me he was returning you to your home. I take it then that you plan to part ways once you reach there?" Kendale asked.
Lady Jill faced forward on the horse once again. "Yes. If everything works out, in two w
eeks he and I will never see each other again."
Baelin's stomach clenched at her words and his throat tightened to the point he could barely breathe. How could he have forgotten she believed she would return home once the curse was broken, that her hopes for returning to her time rode on the tapestry tucked safely inside his satchel? The burden of carrying it never weighed so much as it did at this moment.
He shifted the satchel to his other shoulder, hating the damn scrap of cloth more than ever.
CHAPTER 18
He hung shackled to the wall, the stones cold and rough against his back, the weight of his body on his arms unbearable. The sharp edge of metal bit into his wrists and warm blood trickled down, falling drop by drop onto the white stone floor.
He didn't know how long he'd been hanging there. Time had lost meaning for him.
But he wouldn't give in. He refused to break.
Because then she would win.
"Come, Baelin. Why do you resist when it would be so much easier to submit to me?"
He kept his eyes closed, his head lowered. Not out of reverence or subservience, but out of self-preservation. If he looked at her now, all would be lost.
"I would sooner endure the fiery pits of hell than to serve your dark powers for one beat of your black heart."
She tsked. "Your sense of honor is to be admired, but I do grow weary of it."
Then release me! he wanted to shout. But he didn't. He would never beg for mercy from her. She had none.
He heard her shift one step closer.
"Do you not find me beautiful?" she cooed.
He refused to answer her, refused to pay her the worship her vanity craved.
She gripped his chin, her nails digging into the flesh of his cheeks, and forced his head up. "Do you?" she spat through gritted teeth.
He didn't want to look at her. He didn't want to open himself to the dark power he could not fight. One crack in his will was all it would take. One moment of vulnerability and she would get in.
He resisted the pull as his lids fluttered open with a will of their own, powerless to stop them. He shuddered as he peered into those spell-binding eyes that had no doubt lulled many a man to his doom.