Tears of the Dragon

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Tears of the Dragon Page 14

by Cyndi Friberg


  Thora wrapped her arms loosely around her and Rowena rested her forehead against Thora’s shoulder.

  “He told me he wanted me,” she murmured. “I know he wants my holdings, he hasn’t pretended otherwise, but he made me believe he wanted me.”

  “Men are very good at saying what we want to hear.”

  Rowena eased away and met Thora’s gaze. “The worst part is I want him still. Even in the exercise yard it was more than anger making my heart pound. He attracts me, and it’s irrational. How can I feel anything for him, knowing he’s deceitful?”

  Thora raised her hands in a helpless gesture. “I’m not the one to ask about such things. My heart leads me where it will, and my mind is never involved.”

  “Last night was his victory, but this war is far from over.” She pushed the hair out of her eyes and straightened her dress. “There has to be a way to show him I’ll not bow and scrape simply because he’s a man.”

  “A devastatingly attractive man,” Thora added, one corner of her mouth quirked.

  “His physical appeal is irrelevant. I must separate my desire from my ambition.” Rowena liked the sound of that. “Men have done so since time began.”

  Thora’s brow furrowed and she crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Your ambition? Whatever does that mean?”

  “I intend to retain control of Pendragon Castle for as long as I possibly can. I’ll not allow Dominic to use my desire against me.”

  “You see!” Thora pointing her finger at Rowena. “You are being just as dishonest as Sir Dominic.”

  She felt her jaw drop. “That’s preposterous. How am I being dishonest?”

  “You claim to champion the legend, that you’ve dedicated your life to breaking the curse, but you’re simply avoiding another marriage. You’re hiding, just as I said.”

  Shooting Thora a glare to illustrate her displeasure, Rowena bent and began to gather the broken pieces of the clay pitcher. “What would you suggest I do?”

  “I’m not your conscience. This you must figure out for yourself.”

  Rowena glanced over her shoulder in time to see Thora slip from the room.

  Thora, who voiced her opinion about everything, had nothing to say? Rowena shook her head and knelt, placing the fragments in her lap. Was Thora right? Was she using the legend as an emotional shield?

  Dominic’s handsome features appeared within her mind, mocking her, attracting her. There had to be a way to show him that wanting her was not enough. She wouldn’t surrender her holdings because she found him desirable. She would marry for love. She must marry for love. So, until he loved her, she wouldn’t accept him as her husband.

  A golden light flickered to life in the corner of the room. Rowena looked at it and laughed. “You come to me now? The damage is done, Fair Fiona. His trap has snapped around my foolish neck.”

  Tinkling laughter drifted on the breeze and the light danced around her in a lazy circle.

  “At least I can amuse you.”

  For just a moment Fiona hovered before Rowena’s face. Their eyes met and Fiona’s ethereal beauty held Rowena transfixed. She could see Fiona’s smile through the golden nimbus, and calming warmth soothed Rowena’s ravaged nerves.

  “Is he the one?” Rowena whispered. “Could he come to love me? Do I dare love him?”

  Just like Thora, Fiona offered no opinion. She circled Rowena one last time and flew out the window.

  Chapter Nine

  Brother Leland sat on the edge of a soft bed, adorned in a sweet-smelling tunic, his belly full of food.

  I have misjudged you.

  Edwin’s ominous comment still echoed through his mind. What had Edwin in store for him now? Isolation and starvation had been ineffective. What form would his next torture take?

  He heard a key grating in a lock and realized the answers were at hand.

  “So, how have you found your quarters?” Edwin’s voice intruded.

  “I’m quite comfortable. You have my thanks.”

  Footfall. One step, two, three.

  “Has a good night’s sleep and a full belly improved your willingness to cooperate?”

  He was much closer now. Brother Leland turned his face toward the sound. “I have never refused to cooperate with you. I cannot solve the riddle because there is no answer. The legend is superstition, nothing more.”

  Edwin laughed.

  Trepidation spread its dark wings. Brother Leland began to pray.

  “I expected this. You see, Leland, I realized something crucial about you yesterday. You have been conditioned by your faith to be selfless. But your faith has also conditioned you to be caring of others.”

  “My lord, I cannot give you what you want regardless of the punishment you have imagined.”

  Edwin continued on as if he hadn’t spoken. “I watched as Nan tended to your needs. You felt compassion for the girl; almost immediately you were devoted. Did you know her before yesterday, or do you react this way to each person you meet?”

  Brother Leland didn’t answer. Fear welled up within him with sickening intensity. What was this evil creature threatening? “I have told you everything. There is no need to involve anyone else.”

  “Well, I must disagree.”

  The footsteps retreated, and then Leland heard muffled, urgent sounds as if someone were gagged.

  “My lord? What is that?” He turned his head from side to side, searching the darkness with blind eyes.

  “That would be little Nan.”

  Fabric rent and the muffled sounds became louder, more distressed.

  “My lord, please!” Leland rose to his feet and took a step forward, but he tripped over something and went sprawling. His knees struck the wood plank floor and pain spiked up his legs.

  “Oh, she is a bit younger than I realized, but she has lovely skin, so white and smooth.”

  “Do not do this evil thing,” he pleaded. “There is no reason.”

  Leland tried to reach her. Scrambling about with frantic determination, he clawed at empty air. His left knee throbbed intensely, but he ignored the pain. He crawled toward the sound of the struggle, only to be kicked away. Searing pain shot through his shoulder as the boot propelled him backward.

  She screamed, the sound tearing through Leland with physical force.

  “Our Father Who art in heaven…” The words fell from his lips in an unconscious litany as the struggle went on. He charged in again, a pathetic charge on hands and knees. A vicious kick slammed him against the wall and his head connected with the stones. He was conscious but dazed, unable to move. Each scream, each moan, each whimper killed a piece of his soul. He could not reach her.

  God forgive me. This is my fault!

  When there were no sounds except ragged breathing and the inhuman keening of a wounded animal. Brother Leland wept.

  “Well, enough of that,” Edwin muttered. “Be gone.”

  He heard a shuffle, the frantic scramble of feet against wood, and then no sounds at all.

  Brother Leland sat against a wall, numb and desolate.

  “You really don’t know, do you?”

  Brother Leland shook his head. Tears trailed down his cheeks, but he was silent.

  “Damn you!” Something crashed and splintered. “Damn her! God damn her!”

  The first blow caught Leland by surprise. After that he welcomed the pain.

  * * * * *

  Rowena sat at the head table, waiting for Dominic to answer her summons. She’d changed her clothing, selected the location for the conversation and rehearsed what she’d say. Her position must be perfectly clear.

  The doors at the far end of the hall opened with a loud groaning, and Rowena held her breath. She schooled her expression and sat up straight in the “master’s” chair.

  Farrell entered the hall, and Rowena slumped forward with a sigh, resting her forearms atop of the table. What was taking so long?

  “Good eventide, milady,” the steward said with a smile. “I’ve not seen y
ou all day.”

  He was cheerful and pleasant as was Farrell’s way, but Rowena found it hard not to scowl. “How have you been?”

  “Very well.”

  “Have you seen Sir Dominic?”

  Immediately his expression changed. His carefree demeanor evaporated and open hostility flared within his dark eyes. “Nay. Why do you ask?”

  “Why are you scowling, Farrell? Has Sir Dominic offended you?”

  He squared his shoulders and met her gaze. “He offended you and that offends me.”

  So, he’d heard about their little row. By now everyone would have heard that she dared to strike the Undaunted. “That was the reason for my question. I need to speak with him.”

  Rowena saw Dominic enter the hall.

  “If he has insulted you, I’ll have him thrown beyond the curtain wall,” Farrell promised.

  “That would—”

  “I’ve never known you to be provoked to violence,” Farrell went on. “He should be taught a lesson.”

  He was so impassioned that she could not rescue him. “Thank—”

  “You need only speak the word and I will—”

  “She need only speak the word and find a man big enough to enforce the threat,” Dominic corrected.

  Farrell spun to face him and the contrast shocked Rowena. She’d never thought of Farrell as a small man, but his head barely reached Dominic’s chin.

  “I don’t know the nature of Lady Rowena’s grievance—”

  “The grievance is between Lady Rowena and me. I assure you, steward, I have on many occasions been provoked to violence.”

  Farrell looked at Rowena.

  “It’s best if you go. I asked Dominic to join me.” She’d forgotten the “Sir” and his name sounded intimate, caressing. This would never do. She must garner her authority and prepare to put him in his place.

  Farrell stiffly inclined his head and walked back across the hall.

  Dominic stood before her, legs planted firmly apart, hands clasped behind his back. His armor was gone, but he was no less intimidating in tunic and chausses. He hadn’t bound his hair. The thick length curled slightly against his neck and shoulders. Rowena remembered its softness crushed within her fists as he drove himself into the depths of her body. She felt heat climb up her throat and blossom across her cheeks.

  She couldn’t afford to indulge such thoughts.

  “Was there a reason for the summons, or did you just want to look at me?”

  The silken question snapped her from her reverie. She scooted to the edge of the chair and folded her hands upon the tabletop. “I’ve decided what to do with you.”

  He laughed. Not a good start.

  “Have you now? What shall you do with me?”

  He used a deep, sensual tone for the last question, but Rowena ignored the tingles racing down her arms. “I offer you a choice. You may become the captain of my personal guard or you may leave my lands immediately.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a choice, it sounds like an ultimatum.”

  “It is whichever you prefer.”

  “Why do you need a personal guard?” He sounded only mildly interested.

  “Because I intend to marry for love or remain a widow.” She watched his reaction carefully.

  His eyes narrowed and darkened. “You would ignore the request of William Marshal?” He folded his arms over his chest, his expression insolent. “It’s better to risk political suicide than to find a husband?”

  “That depends on the husband.”

  With two long strides he faced her across the table. Her palms were suddenly clammy and beads of perspiration dotted her upper lip, but she clung to her calm façade.

  “Your husband must be strong enough to hold your land, capable of protecting your people and willing to treat you kindly. If you harbor expectations beyond those, my lady, you are being childish.”

  “Then I am surely childish, for my expectations rise far above that dismal list.”

  He smiled, a slow mocking smile that made Rowena’s heart lurch within her breast. “You shall marry your true love, solve the riddle, break the Fairy curse and find the buried treasure?”

  Her chin shot up a notch. “Aye, and you shall protect me until I have accomplished each of those goals.”

  He didn’t bother to step onto the dais. Resting his hands on the tabletop, he leaned toward her and whispered, “You’re only postponing the inevitable.”

  “Nay,” she asserted, staring directly into his smoldering gaze. “I’m preventing the intolerable.”

  One dark brow arched, mocking her defiance. “Feel safe in the illusion, if you can. But know this, Rowena, you’re mine already.”

  He grasped her upper arms, pulling her out of her chair and halfway across the table. Rowena gasped, and his mouth claimed hers. She shoved against his chest, but he devoured her, possessed her, and demanded a response. Light danced behind her eyelids. Heat and tension gathered in her abdomen as well as a faint tingling of fear. Why couldn’t she resist this man?

  Just as abruptly as he kissed her, he pushed her away.

  Rowena slumped back against the chair, panting and muddled. He was walking away. This was to have been his reprimand, but he was walking away! “I belong to no man!” she shouted at his back.

  “I belong to no man,” she whispered as he slammed the massive door.

  * * * * *

  “I don’t understand,” Rowena said sharply. “Brother Leland hasn’t left the village since he lost his sight.”

  Brother Samuel fidgeted, nervously clearing his throat before he elaborated. “One of the Carthusian monks came to get him. They said he was needed at the Charterhouse. The monk came in a wagon, so Brother Leland agreed to go.”

  Rowena shifted her basket from one hand to the other. Was it only her selfish need to see her friend that churned within her belly, or was something really wrong?

  “Did Brother Leland know this man? Did you?”

  “I have had no interaction with any of the monks. You know how reclusive they are. I’m not certain if Brother Leland knew the man or not. His concerns seemed to be centered around the means of travel.”

  The tension in her stomach tightened. “When was this? How long has he been gone?”

  “About the time you left for Windsor Castle. Brother Leland was upset that he wasn’t able to see you before you departed, and he insisted that the message for William Marshal be delivered instead.”

  “I received it. Do you know when he will return?”

  “I’m sorry, I do not. May I be of some assistance?”

  She forced a smile. “I just brought some more of Cook’s tea. It’s nothing you want to consume unless it is necessary.”

  He took the basket from her with a chuckle. “I’ll send a message when he returns. I know he treasures your visits.”

  Rowena fought her troubled thoughts all the way back to the castle. This entire day had been a disaster. Was she being punished for the immoral pleasure she’d shared with Dominic? Was her one moment of weakness to ruin the rest of her life?

  The overly dramatic thoughts made Rowena smile. Her emotions were raw and sensitized. A nice long conversation with Brother Leland would have done her a world of good.

  “Milady! There you are. We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Thora came racing across the inner bailey, her voice almost shrill with anxiety.

  “What’s amiss?”

  Panting for breath, Thora clutched her throat with one trembling hand and grasped Rowena’s wrist with the other. Fear twisted her expression, and Rowena felt her own respiration speed.

  “Nan’s in the bakery. She’s hysterical and no one can calm her enough to find out the cause of her distress. She’s asked to speak with you.”

  “Who is Nan?” Rowena searched her memory as they hurried along.

  “My cousin. She works in Edwin’s household.”

  Spurred on by the name of her enemy, Rowena ran for the bakery.

  The
girl’s headrail was missing, and her long dark hair had become a tangled mass, which hung over one shoulder. Tear trails smeared her dirty face, and her hard sobs could be heard long before Rowena entered the bakery. Rowena knelt before the girl and gently took her grimy hands between her own. Squeezing her fingers, Rowena tried to draw her attention. “Nan, what’s happened? Tell me how I can help.”

  The authority in Rowena’s tone seemed to penetrate the girl’s hysteria. She dragged the back of her hand across her eyes and let out a long, ragged sob. “They made the poor friar think he was forcing himself on me, but it weren’t me, it was all a trick.”

  “I don’t understand, Nan. Who are they? Which friar?”

  “He needs your help. He’s hurt real bad.”

  Nan began to sob. Before the girl slipped back into hysteria, Rowena asked, “Who needs me? Where is he?”

  “Brother Leland. We took him up to the old monastery. We didn’t know where else to go.”

  Rowena told Thora to have Milton saddle her horse before she turned back to the frightened girl. She took Nan’s face and tilted it until their gazes met. “Nan. You need to explain what happened, quickly. Who hurt Brother Leland? How badly is he injured?”

  After taking several long breaths, Nan said, “Sir Edwin. Will he come after me now? Bert already ran, but someone had to tell you where the friar is. We didn’t know where else to come. I’m so scared. Did we do good?”

  “You did very good, Nan. Just relax. You’re safe now. I’ll take care of everything.”

  Rowena rose, but Nan caught her sleeve. “It was a trick. Make sure he knows it was a trick.”

  As she rushed from the bakery, her limbs wobbled and tears threatened to reveal her torment. She wouldn’t break down in front of the servants. She couldn’t. They depended on her strength, her ability to act with calm and reason.

  But guilt swept in on the heels of her anger and her steps faltered. Edwin hadn’t given up. He’d found a different path to his obsession.

  Brother Leland had been tortured because of his connection to her. Covering her mouth with her hand to stave off her anguished cry, Rowena ran for the stables. She couldn’t let him die. She wouldn’t!

 

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