My Lady Faye

by Sarah Hegger

  “Let me.” She moved her hand over him.

  He made a strangled sound and dropped his head forward. She was doing this to him. The knowledge was as heady as mead. A fine tremor shook him as she stroked him. Gregory groaned, his hand clasped her wrist to stop her. “I will spill.”

  “Let me.” She rose on her toes.

  His mouth descended on hers as he loosened his hold on her hand.

  Between her thighs, she grew heavy and damp. Their mouths mated in time to her strokes on his shaft.

  With a garbled shout, he tensed and sticky wetness covered her hand. He pressed his head into the crook of her shoulder. “Dear God.”

  Faye throbbed unfulfilled, but she reveled in the knowledge of what she had given him. No other woman had touched him thus and rendered him helpless with a few strokes of her hand.

  Gregory raised his head. Color rode high on his cheeks. He kissed her as if she were the most precious thing on earth. “You are, indeed, a sorceress.”

  Feet scuffed the stairs. Faye leapt away from Gregory. They could have been interrupted at any point. She had allowed herself to be swept away in the madness. She had no regrets, but guilty heat flooded her face.

  Gregory handed her a washing cloth and she wiped her hand.

  She dared not look at him or she would give the game away. Faye dropped the cloth back into the bucket as Simon rounded the staircase at a run.

  “Mother.” He greeted her with a small bow. “Are you well rested?”

  His little boy dignity made her want to clasp him to her and cover his face with kisses. Matching his formality, she inclined her head. “I am well thank you, son.”

  “Plants.” Newt curled his lip up in disgust as he hefted a large sack at her. Grime and fresh dirt once more covered his face. All her cleaning undone in a morning. It would take an entire army to keep that boy clean. “Aldous says we are to eat these.”

  “You dare not tarry here.” Aldous entered the burrow carrying a sack like Newt’s, only this one bulging. “The men draw closer.”

  Chapter 17

  Reality crashed over Faye in a sickening wave. Calder’s men drew closer. She had almost forgotten in those precious, stolen moments with Gregory. Many miles lay between them and Anglesea’s safety, and countless foes along the way.

  Gregory narrowed his gaze to Aldous. “Did they see you?”

  The old man snorted and dumped his sack on the table. “Do not be daft. The danger is not immediate, but they are combing the land around here. It will not be long before they find my home.”

  “We must leave.” She turned to Gregory.

  “Nay.” Aldous upended his sack, dumping an assortment of tubers, plants and nuts on the table. “They are too close and you will run right into them. Best to remain here, hidden, until they pass and then make for Anglesea.”

  Gregory nodded. “We will hear them coming and stay hidden. Then, we will go aloft and I will scout which road would be best to take.”

  Faye’s belly clenched. Every instinct yelled to run and not stop until she reached safety, but the men made sense.

  “These passages from the dungeon run for miles.” Aldous sorted through his bounty with long, elegant fingers.

  “I could make it to Anglesea.” Newt vibrated with enthusiasm. “I could tell them where you are and they will send aid to see you safely home.”

  A thoughtful look flit across Gregory’s face. “You will be captured.”

  “Nay, I will not.” Newt bounced on his toes. “Nobody catches Newt when Newt does not want to be caught.”

  “They are not looking for such as he.” Aldous snatched up an empty bucket and walked to the stairs. “And he is a sly one.” Aldous disappeared up the stairs on silent feet.

  Indecision weighed on Gregory’s face as his gaze met hers. They needed the help, this much was clear. Yet a small boy against Calder’s extensive army did not sit right.

  “We cannot risk him being caught.” Faye spoke to Gregory.

  He nodded.

  Newt huffed and folded his arms over his scrawny chest. “I will not be caught. And like the addled man says, they are not looking for a gutter brat. I could walk right past them and they would not stop me.”

  “What about Odo?” They could not place such a burden on a child, even an extraordinary sort of child like Newt.

  “Odo will not be a problem.” Gregory grimaced. “I found his camp before I found you.” Oh, Lord, she had, unwittingly contributed toward Odo’s death.

  “There.” Newt sniffed, unabashed by the notion he had killed a man. “And the rest of them do not have a thought between them without Odo.”

  “We have no horse for you,” Gregory said.

  Newt blew a raspberry. “I cannot ride, in any case. Alls I have ever done is sit on one as someone else did the other bits.” He skipped over to Gregory. “You tell me how to get to Anglesea from here, and Newt will be there before you can blink.”

  Calder’s trap fastened about Faye. Newt and Simon stood near shoulder to shoulder in height, Newt the slighter of the two. There were not many years between them. Yet those years weighed heavy on Newt. He was more able and crafty than she, by far. Her resistance wavered.

  “I will pack some provisions.” Aldous returned with his water, put the bucket on the table and dropped the tubers and plants into it.

  Irked by the man’s ridiculous assumptions, Faye crossed her arms over her chest. “Nothing has been decided.”

  “Hasn’t it?” Aldous quirked a brow at her. Bothersome man.

  Gregory studied Newt. “He has a better chance than any of us.”

  “Aye.” Newt nodded vigorously. “Although I would be faster if I had some meat in my belly.”

  “I eat no flesh of beast.” From beneath his gray, shaggy brows, Aldous glowered at him.

  Newt pulled a face and turned back to Gregory. “While we fuss and fume, they get closer. I could be at Anglesea by now.”

  “Not quite.” Gregory gave a small smile. “I do not like it, but we have not many alternatives. Come.” He motioned Newt to the table. “I will show you where we are.”

  What a sorry state. Reliant on a child for rescue.

  Gregory used the nuts to make a map on the table for Newt.

  Faye clasped Simon close to her side, his slight weight a comfort against her.

  Gregory finished his explanations and made Newt repeat them. He broke up his makeshift map. “Now you make it.”

  Newt heaved a huge sigh and remade the map.

  “Good.” Gregory nodded. “Again.”

  “God’s Bo—”

  “Again.”

  Newt repeated it three more times before Gregory looked up and nodded. “He has the way.”

  Faye ate the meal Aldous prepared more out of necessity than hunger.

  Newt chattered away as if he had not a care through the meal. The boy possessed not an ounce of fear. Faye envied him that. For her part, her heart beat erratically and she froze at any small sound from above.

  Gregory appeared at ease, but she read the tension in the taut way he held himself.

  All too soon, the meal was done and Newt ready to depart. Aldous supplied a skin of water and some nuts and tubers in a small sack.

  “You must make sure you follow the same path on your return.” Gregory held Newt’s shoulder in a firm grasp. “If aught happens, we will travel that same path.”

  “Beatrice will owe me another three favors once I am done.” Newt rubbed his hands together. On that, he disappeared up the stairs. Faye sent a swift prayer after his scurrying form.

  “Now we wait.” Gregory answered her unspoken question.

  “Come.” Aldous drew a small leather sack from beside the hearth. “You can try to best me at stones.”

  The sack hit the table with a rattle. Faye near leapt out of her skin.

  “Aye, but you cheat.” Gregory took the bench opposite Aldous with a grin.
<
br />   Playing a stupid game at a time like this. Faye wanted to box both their ears.

  Simon drew closer to the table and took a seat beside Gregory. He soon lost himself in the play. Well, it distracted Simon, which she supposed made it useful. Faye wandered over to the pallet and sat. What she wouldn’t give to have her hands on her sewing now.

  * * * *

  Tension built like a bloated bladder in Gregory. Aldous accepted his pretense of playing the game, but still took enough advantage to trounce him. The waiting gnawed at him. Waiting for what, exactly? Newt to return with a rescue party? Or Calder to stumble upon them?

  Too young to be cooped up beneath the earth, Simon grew restless. Faye bore the brunt of the boy’s frustration. He admired her calm and infinite patience as she invented distraction after distraction to keep the youngster content.

  “Perhaps you should go above and scout?” Aldous took pity on him. “I will remain here and see to the boy and your lady.”

  His lady. Even as he surged to his feet, the phrase jangled in his brain. He didn’t know if he even had the right to call her that. Things shifted between them daily. Her touch on his male flesh had been wondrous. Even now, he swelled recalling their encounter. He wanted more than that and the knowledge sat ill. He didn’t know where that would leave them when this was over. Once the danger passed, life would continue much as it had before. That idea didn’t sit right either. What if the danger didn’t pass? What if this was the only time they had?

  “Can I come?” Simon pleaded with him.

  “Nay, lad.” Gregory suppressed a shudder at the idea of taking the lad anywhere close to danger, or trying to amuse a whining seven-year-old as he scouted. “Your task is to stay here and care for your mother.”

  Perhaps some time away from Faye would help clear his head. As if his time at the monastery had helped exorcise her from his being. How thick could one man be? This snarl pulled tighter by the hour.

  “Be careful.” Faye touched his arm. The simple contact crept across his skin like the sun’s rays. Would there ever come a time when a touch from her remained a brief, impersonal contact?

  She gazed up at him. A man could see his entire future in those blue eyes. She had been a beautiful girl. As a woman she was breathtaking. Life had carved maturity into her features and a compassion to her that had not been part of the girl. He placed his hand over hers, relishing the brief connection. “Always.”

  Aldous accompanied him outside the dungeon to see him off.

  Concealed by the broken walls of the former keep, they took a moment to check for unwelcome visitors. The gently undulating hilltop remained clear as far as he could see. Once he cleared the walls, he would have to find cover as soon as possible.

  “Why do you fight so hard?” Aldous scoured the countryside. His sharp gaze would see forms where others couldn’t. The man had an almost ungodly ability to spot intruders.

  Aldous had no patience with dissembling and Gregory didn’t bother. “I have lived my life to join the Holy Fathers.”

  Aldous shrugged. “Fate does not always take note of these decisions we make.”

  As if he didn’t know that. Gregory bit back a sharp retort. “I do not think she is for me.”

  “Why?” Aldous cocked his head and examined him as he would a new type of insect.

  Gregory couldn’t hold his piercing gaze. “She is wed to another.” Aldous considered the idea of a man dedicating his entire life to God ridiculous. Any argument on that basis would only end in frustration.

  Aldous grunted. “Always with the fences you put around yourselves. Your kind are like sheep, herding yourselves into pens and then wondering why the wolf comes calling.” Damned if Gregory knew what that meant. Aldous spoke of his kind as if the old hermit considered himself not a part of the rest of God’s creation.

  “Listen to me, sword wielder.” Aldous grew stern, a fine furrow between his brows. “I had hoped you would find this truth within you, but my time grows short. There is no test to decide if you are worthy of love or happiness. They are yours, simply by virtue of your state as a man.” That couldn’t be right. Everything within Gregory rebelled at the notion. The old man spoke heresy. Aldous growled and thumped him on the chest. “Our hearts are our best ears, not the ones balancing the side of your head.” Aldous and the Father Abbot must be exchanging confidences. “Go.” Aldous jerked his head. “I grow weary of talking to you.”

  * * * *

  “Come.” The old hermit waved Simon closer.

  Faye bristled at the old man beckoning her son forward in that imperious manner. She was not entirely sure she liked the old man at all. He made her twitch when he stared at her with those strange, unfathomable eyes that hid secrets and knowledge to which she could only guess. What did he see when he watched her thus?

  Simon had no such hesitation and plonked himself at the table across from Aldous.

  “I will teach you something useful.” Aldous snatched up a small log from the hearth. “What do you see here?”

  “Wood?” Simon frowned.

  “Wrong,” he said. “Look closer and tell me what you see.”

  Faye wandered over to where they sat, intrigued. She saw nothing more than a log of wood.

  “A piece of firewood.” Simon twisted his face in thought.

  “Wrong. Look closer.”

  The log lay on the table between Simon and Aldous. “Fire,” she said. Good Lord, she sounded foolish.

  Aldous pulled a face. “Better, but look closer.”

  She tilted her head to study the wood from a different side. “It partly resembles a rabbit.” She flushed. Next she would see faeries in the stone walls.

  Aldous beamed at her. “Show me.”

  “Here.” Absurdly gratified to have pleased him, she pointed to a slight protuberance. “There are his ears and this is his body.”

  “What do you see?” Aldous turned back to Simon.

  “A wolf.” Simon grinned at him.

  Aldous raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever seen a wolf?”

  “Nay, but I have seen a picture.”

  “Pictures are not wolves. You will know the difference if you are ever fortunate enough to see a wolf.”

  Faye hardly believed seeing a wolf in the flesh would be fortunate at all. Indeed, it could prove most uncomfortable.

  Simon looked crestfallen. “A rabbit, then.”

  “Nay.” Aldous thumped his hand on the table. “Your mother saw a rabbit. What do you see?”

  Simon frowned at the wood in concentration. He screwed up his face and held his breath. He released it in a loud whoosh. “I see a badger. And, aye, I have seen a real badger.”

  “Good.” Aldous nodded. “Now show me the badger.”

  “Well….” Simon tugged the wood closer to him. “Here are his ears and this patch is darker—”

  “Nay.” Aldous dropped a short, curved knife on the table. “You have looked at the wood and asked it to show you its true spirit. Now, honor the gift.”

  Simon’s small fingers near the wicked blade frightened Faye. “I do not think—”

  “You think too much,” Aldous said. Nay, she did not like the old man. He grinned at her as if he could read her thoughts “He will not cut himself. I am here to guide his hand. Did you not give him a dagger to defend himself when the need arose?”

  “Aye.” That was entirely different and she had not been happy to do so.

  Aldous tapped his temple. “Thinking again, woman. Your thoughts will make cold bedfellows.” Aldous turned his back on her building tirade and pushed the knife toward Simon. “Earth Mother has gifted you with this badger and the king of trees has shown you the form within this limb. As a part of this bounty, you will use your gifts to bring forth the form.”

  Faye’s ire banked to a simmer as she concentrated on his words.

  “But it’s only a piece of wood.” Simon lunged for the knife.

  “Then yo
u are not fit to carve it.” Aldous covered the knife with his hand. “You are not the master of all you see about you, but a part of it. As a part, you must respect the other parts.”

  It made an odd sort of sense to Faye. There seemed to be truth in the hermit’s words, despite going against most of what she had learned in church.

  “We are born and we die as part of all we see about us. We take from it and we give to it. An ebb and flow, like the ocean.”

  “Does God not teach us we have dominion over beasts and creation?” He had the oddest way of looking at things, but beautiful in its simplicity.

  “Whose god, woman?” Aldous adjusted Simon’s grip on the knife.

  “Is there not only one God?”

  Aldous sat back and crossed his arms. “Is there?”

  The conversation made her uncomfortable. “I do not suppose you have a piece of wood for me to carve?”

  “Nay.” Aldous stood. “But we could bake nut bread.

  Faye despised baking, but the only alternative was to sit and wait while Simon carved. “Where do you—”

  “Hush.” Aldous tilted his head, his hand raised to silence her. The man was beyond rude. She had only meant to ask where he kept the flour.

  Simon stopped carving and looked up.

  “Riders are coming,” Aldous said. Less of a distinct sound than a rumble, hooves pounded the earth. “Five.” Aldous nodded. “Perhaps more. Come, we must hide you.”

  Simon slid from the table and Faye grabbed his hand.

  Aldous led the way beyond his pallet and out into what must have formed the main corridor to the original dungeon. “I can give you no light, but you must stay in these tunnels until Gregory or I come for you. Fear not, woman, we will find you.”

  The rumble grew louder. Loose earth and stones tumbled down the entrance stairs. Faye gripped Simon’s hand tighter as she ventured into the total dark beyond the light cast by Aldous’s candles. Anglesea had an entire rabbit warren of tunnels leading to and from the dungeons. They ran the length of the keep beneath the ground all the way to the ocean. It was easy to get lost in those dark, winding tunnels. If they got lost down here, Gregory might never find them. She kept her free hand to the wall at her left. Her fingertips skimmed past slimy, unknown shapes in the dark, and she shuddered. Her flesh crawled. She hated spiders.