by Lori Dillon
Tired of listening to battle tales of the maimed and mutilated, she rummaged through her satchel and pulled out a fresh gown. "While you two trade gruesome war stories, I'm going to go take a bath."
All conversation stopped instantly. Roderick's mouth hung open, stalled in mid-sentence. Owen visibly cringed at the thought. Baelin didn't look too happy with the idea either.
Jill shook her head at all of them. "Don't be so shocked. Where I come from, bathing regularly is considered good hygiene." She made an exaggerated show of sniffing the air. "Quite frankly, it's a habit two knights who sweat buckets in their armor and a young squire-in-training who reeks more of horse than boy should consider taking up. A little soap and water never killed anybody."
As she walked away, Baelin bolted up and rushed around the campfire to block her path. "My lady, you bathed but two nights ago."
"Right, and I'm going to do it again. I'm used to having a bath every day and as long as we continue to follow the shore of the-lake-that-never-seems-to-end, I'm going to take advantage of mother nature's bathtub."
"But 'tis not safe."
"Oh, please. Let's not argue over this again. I'm not going to run away and as long as the Loch Ness Monster doesn't nibble on my toes, I'll be fine."
"'Tis not monsters in lakes that concern me," he said in a hushed voice and she saw his glance dart back to the campfire.
"Oh, you mean Owen and Roderick?" she replied back in an exaggerated whisper. "There shouldn't be a problem as long as they stay by the fire and don't come sneaking around to watch me skinny dipping."
She caught him glancing again to see if Roderick had overheard them. He had nothing to worry about. The other knight was too busy sniffing at various parts of his body to notice.
"I'll be quick. I don't have a choice—that lake is like jumping in the Arctic Ocean." The mischievous streak in her couldn't resist torturing him just a little bit. "Unless you could heat it up for me like you did back in the cave?"
Baelin's head whipped back around and he nearly choked on the gulp of air he inhaled. "My lady, there is not enough breath in my dragon lungs to warm the entire lake for you."
She gave a dramatic sigh. "Too bad. You know how I like hot baths."
What are you doing, Donahue? Are you actually flirting with him? Are you out of your twenty-first century mind?
His eyes flashed gold and he groaned, as if the thought gave him physical pain.
Okay, if he was remembering the same thing she was—her naked and wet, him just as gloriously nude, firelight and a certain bearskin rug—it was probably not the best image to put into his male brain. Especially not after that brief zing that had passed between them this morning.
With Baelin thoroughly distracted, she turned and made a beeline for the lake before he could stop her—or act on the heated promise simmering in his eyes.
Bad Jill. She should know better than to tempt a dragon.
"The dragon has left its lair."
Isylte slowly lowered the white swan's quill in her hand, but did not look at the man standing on the other side of the table. Instead, her gaze focused on the paper before her, the words she'd written blurring into black streaks before her eyes.
"Of course he has. He passed one of the challenges. He could not do so otherwise."
"He is traveling with a girl, my queen."
"I am aware of that." She closed her eyes against the image of Baelin with another woman, but it did no good, faceless though the girl was. "'Tis the maiden foretold of in the tapestry. Tell me something I do not know."
She heard the warrior shuffle in place. "They are not alone."
"Really?"
"The dragon and the maid are traveling with another knight." The warrior cleared his throat. "A dragonslayer."
Isylte's gaze pierced the knight, causing him to retreat a step back.
"Baelin is keeping company with a dragonslayer?" Now that was an interesting turn of events. "How unwise of him."
"Aye, we thought so, too. What could it mean, my queen?"
Alarmed, she rose and tore aside the curtain now concealing the ragged tapestry. It remained as it had for the past two days, unraveling no further.
Her anxiety eased, but still the question remained. "What is he up to, that he would risk so much?"
"They appear to be in no hurry, to get wherever it is they are going."
"No, they wouldn't be, for they know not where the next test will take place."
"Tell me where, my queen," the man's voice brimmed with determination, "that we might reach it before them and prevent them from succeeding."
"Would that I knew," she murmured, more to herself than to the knight.
"Do you not know what the next challenge is the maiden must pass to break the spell?"
She whirled about, angered the man would dare question her magic. "Of course I do, you idiot! I am the one who cast the enchantment." She gritted her teeth at his audacity. "However, like the dragon, I do not know in what form the challenges will present themselves. Only the whim of fate determines when and how they shall come to be." She stared at the tapestry, the only thing tying her to him. "And so long as the maiden of the tapestry is with him, that time may come all too soon."
"What would you have us do, my queen?"
She paced in front of the tapestry, a plan playing out in her mind.
"Baelin must have both the maiden and the tapestry if the curse is to be broken. Without one or the other, it cannot be done." She stopped and smiled serenely at the knight.
"Go. Follow them. If you cannot separate the dragon from the tapestry, then separate the maiden from the dragon."
"Will she be safe, do you think?" Kendale asked.
Baelin had returned to the fire, still uncomfortable with Lady Jill going off by herself. But he couldn't deny her the chance to bathe, not if he wanted to avoid another battle of wills like the last time.
"She will be fine as long as another dragonslayer does not happen upon her like the last time."
The knight gazed off in the direction Lady Jill had taken, his face akin to a fox dreaming of a fat, juicy hen.
"Ah, had I but come through the woods only a moment or two sooner that day, what a vision I might have seen." At Baelin's stern look, he laughed and held up his hands. "And then promptly turned about and shielded my eyes, so as not to dishonor the lady."
"Somehow I find that hard to believe."
Kendale casually draped his arm over a bended knee. "I am not the complete knave you think me to be."
"Are you not? Is that why Lady Jill finds herself rebuffing your unwanted attentions at every turn?"
The knight chuckled. "Merely testing the boundaries, just as I was testing yours this morn."
Baelin found himself momentarily surprised. "The sword practice?"
"Aye. If I am to be in the company of a man, it behooves me to know if he is skilled enough with the sword should I ever have need of him to stand at my back."
"And what if that sword should instead turn against you?"
Kendale smiled. "Then I want to know what I shall be up against should that situation ever come to pass."
Baelin studied the other knight, trying to judge the sincerity in his words. "You would trust me to fight at your side?"
He shrugged a shoulder. "Trust only comes with the test of time. But after this morn, I know now we are well matched. Yours would be a worthy sword arm to have by my side in battle…and at the same time, I would not be fool enough to underestimate your skill should you turn out to be my foe instead."
Little did the knight know how close his words were to the truth. Baelin could easily go from ally to enemy in the span of a heartbeat, if the dragonslayer ever discovered the truth of what he was.
Still, he couldn't deny how enjoyable it'd been to spar with a flesh and blood man and not some imaginary opponent. It had been exhilarating, to practice the skills of battle, and he'd been delighted to know they were not nearly as rusty as his mail.
'Twas strange, to feel this obscure bond with a man who could inspire both annoyance and camaraderie in one breath.
He didn't have long to think on the puzzling situation before Lady Jill stepped out of the twilight, toweling her wet hair with the edge of her cloak. The tresses hung in dripping waves to her shoulders, dampening the linen of her saffron kirtle until it was nearly transparent against her skin. For a long, silent moment, every male eye around the fire stared at her, even the young lad too green to do naught about it.
She stopped, uneasy with her enthralled audience. "What?"
Kendale jumped to his feet and whisked his cloak from around his shoulders. "Come, Lady Jill, warm yourself by the fire. We would not want you to catch a chill."
How chivalrous of you. Baelin cursed the knight's simple act of courtesy, angry that he could not do the same, but was forced to hide within the folds of his cloak to conceal what lay beneath.
He watched Kendale linger overly long as he draped the garment over her slender form and had to suppress the animalistic growl threatening to erupt from him.
Any affinity he'd begun to feel for the man disappeared. He wanted to shout at the other knight to get his hands off of her. But did he have a right? The dragon in him screamed mine, mine, mine. But she wasn't his. Or at least only his for the next sennight. After that, he would no longer have any claim on her.
Kendale led Lady Jill to a comfortable spot by the fire, and then sat near her. Though a respectable distance separated them, Baelin still considered him to be far too close to her.
France would be too close at this point.
Lady Jill had been correct. There was no danger lurking in the lake. As he watched the knight wield his charm like a spider weaves its web, he realized there was another sort of danger all too close. Where at first he'd feared only a risk to himself and the discovery of his secret, now he felt a greater threat. The threat was to Lady Jill.
Kendale wanted her. He could smell the lust on the man. If the knight had half the dragon sense Baelin had, he would probably smell a similar scent on him, too.
As he watched them converse with relaxed ease on the other side of the fire, Baelin wanted nothing more than to toss the other knight on his horse and see him on his way. He'd even help him pack up his supplies if he thought it would get rid of him faster.
The knight stood and bowed over Lady Jill's hand. "My lady, now that I see how refreshed you are from your bath, methinks I shall partake of the waters myself. My only regret is I must take leave of your company to do so."
"No, methinks your only regret will be when you get in the water." She pulled her hand away and tugged his cloak tighter about her. "The lake is freezing."
"Worry not for me. A bit of cool water will not harm me."
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
He nodded to her and then turned to the boy. "Come, Owen. Let us be off to our bath."
"Me?" Owen gulped, horrified.
"Especially you," Lady Jill said. "You're the filthiest one of us all."
Muttering under his breath, the boy collected fresh clothing and stomped off for the lake behind the knight.
Once they were gone, Baelin made his way around the fire. He looked down on Lady Jill, wrapped up in the dragonslayer's voluminous cloak, his gaze hot enough to set the garment aflame.
"Are you warm enough, my lady?"
She smiled at him, oblivious to his discontent. "Yes, thank you."
Out of the darkness came two splashes, then a loud yelp, followed by a string of curses.
Lady Jill laughed. "I told them it was cold."
"Perhaps it will cool Sir Roderick's amour."
"You mean his flirting? Oh, I'm sure he doesn't mean anything by it."
"On the contrary, I think he means a great deal by it."
Cocking her head to the side, she batted her lashes at him. "Why, Sir Baelin. Are you jealous?"
"Of course not."
He detected a flicker in her eyes. Was it hurt or disbelief? Probably the latter, for he had a hard time believing the words he uttered himself.
Baelin took Kendale's place beside her and tossed a stick into the fire.
By the saints, how was it one slip of a woman had the power to turn him into knots? After their near embrace this morn and her playful banter this eve, he was more confused than ever. Had he detected some affection for him? Or was it wishful thinking on his part? All those years in the cave left him ill-prepared to deal with the maidens sacrificed to him. But this one… This one he wondered if even a man such as Kendale could handle.
Or could he?
"Should I be?" he asked.
"What?"
"Jealous."
Lady Jill paused in finger combing her damp hair, her penetrating gaze making him uncomfortable. "No."
"Good." And it was. He had no idea what a sense of relief it was to hear her say it until the feeling washed over him.
He plucked at the grass by his foot, unsure what next to say. Even when he'd been human, he'd not been a courtier like Kendale, easy with words to turn a lady's head. So he said the only thing a battle-hardened, dragon-knight could think of to fill the silence between them.
"Aye, 'tis good. Because 'twould not be wise to lose sight of our goal. We need no such distractions in our quest."
She chuckled. "Oh, Roderick is hardly a distrac—"
The knight chose that moment to step out of the shadows, wearing naught but his breeches. Young Owen was quick on his heels, carrying the bulk of their travel-worn clothing which, by any sense of decency, should be covering his master's half-naked body.
Kendale came to stand by the warmth of the fire. Using a cloth Owen handed him, the knight swiped at the remaining droplets of water trickling down his chest and stomach before they disappeared in the turned waist of his breeches. Then he tossed his head back, shaking the damp hair from his face like a wet wolfhound.
Now it was Lady Jill who stared.
"Preening peacock. He might as well be a woman," Baelin grumbled under his breath.
Lady Jill sighed. "Hmm…a strong, chiseled chin with just the right amount of five o'clock stubble. Caribbean blue eyes a girl could drown in. A set of washboard abs an Abercrombie & Fitch model would die for. Not a bad looking peacock, if I do say so myself."
Kendale caught her gaze and grinned, revealing even, white teeth. Damn the man. Even his teeth were pretty.
Lady Jill returned his smile, her cheeks flushing pink before she looked away and returned to combing her hair. The smug glance of triumph the knight sent Baelin's way did little to lighten his foul mood.
I would not be so vainglorious, my friend. If I were in my dragon form, I could eat you for dinner and you would be dragon droppings by the morrow. She would not find you so handsome and charming then.
Lady Jill jabbed him in the ribs. "Did you just growl?"
Had he made a noise? He didn't know and didn't care.
Baelin turned his pique on her and glowered.
She had the temerity to laugh at him. "Oh, come on. There's no harm in looking."
Baelin rose and stomped off toward the lake to take his own bath. The cold water would probably do him good.
CHAPTER 20
"…and I fell six Turks armed with scimitars with a single log from the fire."
Somewhere behind her, Baelin grunted. It was becoming his go to reply to the multitude of the Roderick's boasts. She started counting the seconds it would take before he came up with a tale of knightly bravery to top this last one the dragonslayer had just gone on and on about.
"Only eight? Why I had not yet earned my spurs when…"
She shook her head. The male egos around here were taking on a life of their own and poor Owen was hanging on every word. First, it started out with tales of valor and bravery, each one exaggerated farther outside the realm of believability from the last. Then it moved onto demonstrations—who could hit the farthest target with an arrow, who could pound the other to a pulp in
mace practice, or who could draw their sword from its sheath the fastest.
It was a medieval pissing contest if she ever saw one.
She suppressed the urge to shout at them to grow up, but knew it would do no good because obviously things hadn't changed much in the past eight centuries. Men had an innate competitive streak that wouldn't let them be outdone by another male within fifty miles and no amount of common sense was going to change that.
"This looks a good place to pass the night," Baelin announced.
"Thank God," Jill groaned as she pulled Owen's pony to a halt and slid from its back. She and the boy had started taking turns riding the sturdy animal and today had been her lucky day in the saddle. Her numb rear-end disagreed profusely while her rubbery legs nearly gave out underneath her. Would she ever get used to the non-stop riding? Her beat-up Isuzu never looked so good.
"Are you feeling poorly, my lady?" Roderick's deep voice spoke from right behind her.
She rested her forehead against the pony's sweaty flank. "Just waiting to regain the feeling in the lower half of my body."
"And a most pleasant lower half it is."
"Will you stop?"
He sighed dramatically. "I cannot seem to help myself."
She chuckled. "You are so bad."
"Aye, that I am," he said, his handsome face breaking into a heart-stopping grin. Lordy, his smile could stop traffic on Rodeo Drive. The false scowl she sent his way did little to deter him. He moved a step closer. "Care to find out how bad?" he whispered.
"No!" She shoved him away, failing to hold back her laughter at his antics as she did so.
"Is aught amiss, my lady?"
Like clockwork, Baelin was at her side. Her very own bat-winged watch dog, never allowing Roderick too much time alone with her, as if the man's very proximity was a threat to her maidenly virtue.
"No problems here. Sir Roderick was just leaving to go polish his armor or sharpen his sword or do whatever dragonslayers do when there isn't a dragon around to slay."
"I shall take my leave of you, then." Roderick bowed his head. "My lady. Gosforth."
As the knight sauntered away, Owen's tired pony in tow, Baelin glared at his back. If his eyes could spit fireballs, Roderick would be a walking torch right about now.