by Shea,Lisa
She forced herself to take a step, to separate herself from the warmth, moving silently across the stables. She strode quickly across the darkened hall, almost running up the stairs to her room. She waited there, alone, staring out her window until the misty haze of morning dusted the sky. As the first glimmerings of dawn began to stretch across the cobblestones, she lit the fresh candle, signifying her start … her new start.
* * *
Despite her lack of sleep, Storm was refreshed as she prepared for the first day of November. The workouts in the morning and riding in the afternoon had brought strength and vigor back into her world.
As she stood and brushed out her hair, Storm deliberately put aside her worries about her past. Falcon was right. Whatever it had involved, it was now her old life. She had control of her new life, of what she chose to do with this day, and each day in her future. She could choose not to be bound by past mistakes or experiences, and to create a new world – a better world – for her future.
She paused by her window, gazing out for a moment, a sense of resignation descending over her thoughts. Her new world, while certainly more open than most could hope for, was not limitless. She had to accept the chasm between herself and Falcon. She had to shield her heart against him, and look on him only as a friend. It was best for her future contentment. It was best for everyone.
Resolved, she headed down the stairs to walk out to the courtyard.
She was surprised when the normally silent, truculent Harold called to her as she emerged into the morning sunlight. Curious, she walked over to where he stood in the shadow of the stables.
He hefted a saddle onto his shoulder. “I hear from the cook that you are worried about being a bandit,” he stated without preamble. He carried the saddle over to a small table, dropping it down next to a worn rag.
Before Storm could think of a reply, he sharply shook his head. “It is not so,” he stated with firm knowledge. “You would not survive a day in the bandit’s camp. They are cold, determined, and ruthless. You are too soft, too caring.” He looked her up and down, then dismissed the idea with a glance. “Not one day,” he muttered to himself, looking down at his work.
Storm looked at Harold’s downturned head, surprised at his outburst, but oddly relieved. It occurred to her that Harold was undoubtedly right – that anyone associated with the bandits would have become selfish and self-absorbed if only for self-preservation. It was yet another building block for her new path, her fresh new view of the world.
“Thank you,” she offered with fervent feeling.
He gave a grunt, rubbing the oil in circles into the leather.
Storm smiled, then headed out to the waiting ring of soldiers. Many of the men seemed to have taken the new year to heart and put a greater than usual effort into their strokes and parries. Storm went through her routine, then found herself working with David and Shawn, who showed a fresh interest in her stance and arm motions. Mindful of what Falcon had said of their troubled past, Storm patiently worked through the movements with them and was rewarded with a focused attention by the pair. They kept her busy right up until it was time to break for lunch.
The boys’ enthusiasm did not abate during lunch. Sitting on Falcon’s left, they talked with him at length about the latest movements of the bandits and ideas for setting up a series of alert stations between the larger villages. Storm did not mind that she was left out of the discussion; she enjoyed the delicious meal of roast pork and looked forward to the afternoon ride. It seemed the flight of a swallow before they had saddled their horses and headed out into the fresh fall sunshine.
Falcon looked over as they rode side by side along the quiet lane. “It is a day of new beginnings,” he observed. His face gentled into a smile. “As always, you have the advantage here. Some of us have a much harder time releasing our old ways; the histories we have built up.”
“I may not have memories, but I do still have histories,” pointed out Storm. “My body remembered the past. I would flinch in panic any time you touched me.”
Falcon’s gaze grew serious. “That is true,” he mused. He reached out a hand to her.
She gently took it, giving it a squeeze.
His eyes became tender. “You seem to be over that reaction, at least.”
Their horses came along a hedge. He glanced to the left, at the small house hidden away down the lane. She felt the stiffening in his posture, the tension in his fingers.
Her eyes went up to his, holding them.
He almost turned away, but instead laced his fingers into hers. He drew in a long, deep breath and then let it out.
His voice was low. “That was Sheila’s house.”
Storm looked back at it again. There was no smoke coming from the fireplace. The road seemed neglected and unused. She did not want to pry, but she could not help herself. “What happened between you two? It seemed that you were fated to be together. You were long lost childhood friends which life had reunited.”
Falcon nodded. “It did seem that way, did it not?” He let the silence go on for a long moment before shaking his head. “We had been innocent playmates, or so she had said. Even as an adult, Sheila had always been very proper in how we interacted with each other. She did not brook any kissing; any intimacy of any kind. She had vowed to remain chaste until her wedding night. I respected that vow and respected her wishes. I was no innocent, but if she wanted to wait I was more than willing to as well.”
Falcon withdrew his fingers from Storm’s, looking down the road before them. He ran a hand idly down his steed’s mane.
“Then, one night, it seemed that she got quite drunk after dinner. We ended up in my room. She was very willing, pressing herself on me. It was clear what she was offering. I admit, I was quite tempted. It took every ounce of my self-control to hold back.”
His eyes were shadowed. “Still, I did hold back. I did not want her maidenhead taken in such a way, with how clearly she had made her wishes known. I did not want our first time together to be something she later regretted.”
He looked down. “Sheila stormed out of the room, raging about my restraint.”
Falcon looked off into the woods. The silence stretched on for five minutes, then ten. Storm rode beside him without saying a word, offering her presence as silent comfort. She would hear as much or as little as he wished to share.
Finally, Falcon spoke again, his voice now bitter. “I felt distress for having treated her so. I went to find her, to explain myself and to apologize. I hoped that she would understand things more clearly after she had sobered up.” His fingers gripped his reins. “I could not find her anywhere in the keep. At last, I came out to her house.”
He took a deep breath, then let it out again. “She was there, all right, naked and wrapped in the arms of a spindly young man named Ryan. I saw them clearly through the window as I approached the house. I moved to the side of the house to hear what they were saying.”
It was a long moment before he could speak again, his voice tight. “Apparently they were part of the bandit group and had been lovers for years. They were plotting to acquire a rich husband for her; Ryan would still remain in her life as her secret companion. Their real goal was a steady supply of loot – silver candlesticks, and silver platters.”
Falcon’s hand dropped to the hilt of his sword, and his face grew tense. “It was all a lie. She had never known me as a child. An ongoing friendship with one of my servants had provided the details they needed for their deception. Every story she had told was a fabrication.”
Falcon gave a short, harsh laugh. “Best of all - the reason for the sudden seduction? Sheila was pregnant with Ryan’s child, and they were hoping to pass it off as my own. They figured if they could get her to sleep with me, they could then press for a quick marriage and simply claim the child was a few weeks early.”
Storm looked over at Falcon with sadness, thinking of all the pain life had put in his path. “What did you do once you knew the truth?”
Falcon ran a hand through his thick hair. “I opened the door and told the two to be gone by dawn. I told them that I did not care where they went, as long as neither set foot within my borders again.”
He rolled his shoulders, looking out into the distant forest. “I heard a few weeks later that she had married an elderly gentleman a few towns over. Eventually word came that he was thrilled to be a new father. Who knows, maybe she did give that man a few years of happiness in his life.”
Falcon pulled his horse to a stop and looked over at Storm. “The irony of it is that, if she had been truthful about being a poor girl, it would not have bothered me. She was vivacious and intelligent. Her parentage and income did not matter to me. If she had truly chosen me over Ryan, and wanted to marry me even though pregnant with another man’s child, I would have raised it as my own.”
He shook his head. “However, for her to continually lie to me … and to plan to base our entire relationship and marriage on a lie … it was more than I could fathom. The oily taint of those lies … I feel that is with me, even now.”
Storm quietly nodded. “I understand completely,” she responded somberly. “If you do not have truth – if you do not have full trust – then you really do not have anything at all.”
Falcon’s face grew steely. “I was so close to being drawn into her trap, and I have berated myself ever since for missing the clear warning signs. A woman shows up out of nowhere and seems such a good match? She plays coy and demure for weeks on end – and then suddenly she wants to give herself fully to me?” His shoulders hunched.
“Even the moment when I was overcome by love for her – when she sobbed, heartbroken, in my arms over a long-past death. I now see how contrived that moment was. Time may not heal all wounds, but it does temper them. I should have seen that outpouring of grief for what it was – a play-acting of the highest level. A clear sign that she was manipulating me.”
Storm’s heart went out to him. He had been through so much; his faith and trust had been shattered almost to the point of never mending again.
“Somewhere out there is a woman who deserves you,” she murmured. “Someone you can rely on fully; someone who is deserving of your absolute faith.”
Falcon looked at Storm for a long time, as the cold autumn air swirled around them in gentle spirals. The horses released their breath in short, frosty huffs, swishing their tails through the browning leaves.
There was no need for words.
After a while, he nudged his horse. The two moved side by side, heading back to the keep.
Chapter 17
The next morning Storm woke early, her body coursing with restless energy. She put on her clothes and headed out into the courtyard, walking around it and stretching her legs. She looked up at the high wall that surrounded the area, thinking of the fine view it afforded. Intrigued, she headed toward the wall, to climb up the ladder and take a stroll along its parapets.
She was halfway up the ladder when she heard a voice call to her from below. “Going for a little walk?” came a deeply voiced query. Storm looked down to see John staring up at her, his hand resting on his sword hilt. At his side stood Zach. Zach looked down at her glance, his face blushing crimson, unwilling to meet her eyes.
Storm’s face fell, but she nodded in quiet understanding. Carefully, she began to make her way back down the ladder, holding her skirts out of the way with one hand.
Falcon’s voice was a blending of casual tone edged with flint. “What is going on here?”
As Storm found her footing on the dusty ground, she turned to find Falcon had joined the group, looking between the three.
Falcon’s eyes were serious. “John?”
The captain bowed to him. “My nephew let me know that your guest was heading up onto the parapets, Sir.” He motioned with his hand to the ladder which Storm still held with one hand. “As we had discussed before -”
Falcon cut him off with the wave of a hand. “That was before, in the past,” he countered with quiet determination. He looked up at Storm for a long moment, then stated clearly, “Storm is to have the full run of the castle. You can reassign your nephew to other duties.”
John blanched, and his grizzled face clearly showed his internal struggle. “My Lord, perhaps we can talk of this later when -”
Falcon sharply interrupted him. “I am decided, and this is final,” he instructed. His eyes held Storm’s for a long moment. “There comes a time when you must decide to trust.”
His eyes on hers, he walked forward and gently patted Storm’s hand which still rested on the ladder rung. “If you are in the mood, shall we take a stroll together on the curtain wall?”
Storm only nodded her agreement, not trusting herself to speak. Her eyes shone in happiness, and she prayed that she was indeed worthy of his faith in her.
* * *
Wednesday morning dawned with bright sunlight and a soothing warmth, bringing a fresh clarity and brilliance to the world. Storm flew through her practice and lunch, looking forward eagerly to the afternoon ride. Falcon apparently felt the same electric energy and soon the two headed out the main gates at a fast trot.
He looked over with a curious smile. “Where to today, oh riding companion of mine?”
Storm’s eyes twinkled.
“Well, Falcon, I think a nice, leisurely ride is in order.” Her smile deepened as a mischievous instinct swept over her. “A race, if you will.” His eyebrows arched in surprise, but before he could comment, she had leaned over to secure her grip on her reins. “Ha! To the tree line!” She urged her mount; in seconds she was breathless with the sure, strong stride as her horse eagerly stretched into a gallop through the afternoon air.
Storm’s hair streamed behind her; she whooped in pleasure, her heart pounding in excitement. What a beautiful day nature had provided to them. This is where she belonged; this is what she was. The world was glorious and sun-streaked. Autumn leaves swirled around her in great whirls of motion. The thundering of hooves filled her world.
A form moved next to her, and she turned her head to find Falcon pulling alongside her on her right. He laughed at her surprised gaze, then leant into his horse to urge it on. Storm crouched low and called to her bay with excitement. Mercury’s legs became a blur; he stretched his neck to reach alongside the grey’s.
They flew across the meadow as one, side by side, soaring across the fields of soft grass.
Storm’s smile grew as the forest approached – victory was within reach!
A sharp pain shot through her left side, and without thinking she bent her body against the pain to lessen it. The action immediately unbalanced her, and she knew instinctively that pulling on the reins could mean great danger for her charging mount. She instead flailed to grab onto the horse’s mane, missed, lost her seat, and flipped head over heels onto the meadow. The soft grass gave her a cushioned landing, but the hard layer beneath knocked the wind out of her.
White, puffy clouds drifted across the sky, impossibly high above her. She pressed down with both sprawled arms, trying to stop the world from spinning.
Falcon was kneeling beside her in a flash. His eyes roamed her quickly from head to toe. “Good Lord, Storm, are you all right? Does anything feel broken?” One hand shakily strayed to her face, smoothing her hair away from her eyes.
Storm couldn’t help it – peals of laughter erupted from her, bringing tears to her eyes. Realizing she was not seriously hurt, Falcon sat back, a smile growing on his own face.
She called out in the gaps between her gales. “That was glorious! What a horse! I almost won!”
Falcon helped Storm to slowly sit up, and she pressed her hand into her side, working away the ache. “Now that was fun,” she chuckled, “even with the pulled muscle.” She shook her head. “It seems that a little fall from a horse is not much at all for me,” she added with a wry grin. “Maybe I was very clumsy in my previous life. I should have won that race.”
Falcon rocked back on his he
els, shaking his head at her. “You are a wonder, Storm,” he commented as she gathered her legs beneath her. “Most women I know would have been abed for weeks after an attack, never mind racing through the meadows. Here you are, barely upset at falling during a horse race.” He stood and offered an arm to Storm, who gladly took it.
Storm’s eyes glinted with laughter. “So my sparring and riding are inappropriate, then? Shall I restrict myself to sewing in the window and polishing silver in the kitchen for the remainder of my stay?”
Falcon smiled, looking down into her eyes with tender care. “No, Storm, not at all. I quite like you just the way you are.”
A warmth of emotions swelled in answer within her. The sun streamed down across the meadow, the crisp scent of autumn grass wafted around them, and it was as if she and Falcon were the only two people in the world. His gaze was everything she could hope for, everything she could dream of.
If only this moment could last forever.
Reluctantly she turned her head, taking a step back and reining in her emotions. She had to maintain a distance or she would be lost. She looked over toward where the horses were slowly walking back in to the pair. Her voice was low but steady.
“Are you in the mood to finish our ride?”
By way of an answer, Falcon strode to bring Mercury to her side and helped her to mount. He then climbed easily astride his own steed and moved up alongside her. “Where to?”
The thought came to Morgan that she could choose any destination, any location in the world, and he would ride by her side, watching over her.
She looked into his eyes.
She was lost.
Chapter 18
Storm found she overslept the next morning – thick clouds hid the sun and kept her room in shadows as she dressed and prepared herself. To her surprise, the courtyard was almost deserted when she went down to join in the daily workout.