by Ruth Kaufman
He was exactly like his father. Exactly like King Arthur, for that matter. Excess desire for a mortal woman had laid them all low. And if Ninian couldn’t free him and Annora, ap Lewis would see to it that all of Morgan’s plans for his endless future were for naught.
No matter how great his desire, how great his need, Morgan couldn’t let Annora tempt him again.
Assuming she had the chance.
She paced the small cell. Never had he felt so impotent, chained to a wall while the woman under his care stood by. She stood because there was nowhere to sit. Ap Lewis had only let them keep Annora’s bag containing Primrose. The cat had poked its head out, taken one look at their surroundings and disappeared back inside. The poor animal must be hungry, too.
Annora perused the walls, wiping her hand across several sections as if seeking the cleanest, driest spot. She leaned against one and closed her eyes. Eventually she slid down to sit on the filthy floor. He hoped she could get some rest.
This would be a long, miserable night. Until and unless Ninian could work her magic.
• • •
At last. It seemed like days, but the small window was still dark when their guard suddenly collapsed and tumbled to the floor, unconscious.
Ninian had arrived.
The key floated through the air into the lock, then turned. The cell door opened. She appeared before him, a smile on her face.
“I’m sorry I took so long, but I wanted to wait until Annora fell asleep,” Ninian whispered. “The questions she would’ve asked…. I thought you’d agree ’twas better to avoid them.”
“With all that she’s had to face, you made the best choice,” Morgan said. “A few more hours of captivity were preferable to having her see you appear out of thin air.”
“What should we tell her about how I managed to free you?”
“We’ll think of something,” Morgan said as Ninian reached up to unlock the metal cuffs. He rubbed his arms and wrists to ease the sting. “Though the truth will give her pause, if not cause her to fear even more for her wits. But I can’t lie to her.”
“I can,” Ninian snapped. “Since when do you care what mortals think of you?”
Morgan ignored her. He did care what Annora thought, though he shouldn’t. He knelt and gently touched her shoulder. “Annora, wake up, ’tis time to go.”
“To Cornwall?” she asked, her eyes still closed.
“No, Sweetling, we must flee.”
Annora’s eyes flew open. She jumped to her feet, soiled straw clinging to her hose and hair. “Where did—? Ninian! How did—?”
“Later. We need to run, fast as we can. Are you ready?” Morgan asked.
“Y-yes.” She slung Primrose’s bag over her shoulder.
Ninian led the way as they dashed through the corridors. Here and there a collapsed guard littered their path. They met with no obstacles. Fortunately, Annora didn’t ask any questions.
Fresh air had never felt so good. Morgan inhaled huge breaths and let them out as they ran through the bailey.
“Wait, stop…. I have a cramp.” Annora doubled over.
Morgan scooped her into his arms and kept running. He and Ninian ducked behind a concealing row of bushes not far from the castle’s main entrance, which two guards patrolled. He reluctantly set Annora down, wanting to hold her close and keep her safe. She dropped to her knees. All three breathed hard.
“Can you continue?” She nodded. She’d have to, Morgan thought. “Ninian, distract the men. We’ll wait here until you secure the keys to the outer gate.”
Boldly, Ninian strode over to them. One was tall and gangly, the other short but stocky.
“I just finished me business within, if you know what I mean.” She tilted her hips suggestively. “But there be time for more, if one or both of ye be up to it. The more the merrier, that’s what I say.”
The men were like to drool at Ninian’s sultry voice and proposition.
“We’ve no time for swivin’. Ap Lewis’d have our hides if we got caught,” the tall one said.
“He’ll never know. How often do we get an offer like this from a beauty like her? She’s so clean, too. How long can it take?” the shorter one asked.
The tall one chuckled. “Depends on who’s doin’ it. I’ll be she knows how to make it last and last. Come on over, Dearie, we’ll show you what’s what. Our cocks be just like us. Mine’s tall and his be wide.”
Ninian laughed low as she put an arm around each.
Morgan smiled at Ninian’s antics. But Annora’s mouth was hanging open. He had to distract her so she wouldn’t ask questions or see what he knew would happen next. Ninian was about to turn invisible and knock them unconscious. Annora would be beyond stunned. He couldn’t risk her knowing the truth, no matter how concealing his true self from her troubled him or her.
The only thing he could think of was to kiss her senseless, though he’d been wary of going near her for days. Even contact intended to be impersonal, such as carrying her to safety while fearing pursuit, made him want to touch her again.
He didn’t dare spark passion. He had to avoid her like drunkards needed to avoid ale. Though in his vast experience, most drunkards never did. They drank themselves to death. If he wasn’t careful, he could drown in Annora’s goodness and beauty and be lost for decades.
“Show us what you’ve got,” the tall man demanded. His hands went to his hose.
Ninian laughed, her voice soft and husky.
Morgan needed to do something. Fast.
He pulled Annora onto his lap, savoring the feel of her soft bottom landing on his loins, and kissed her. She felt and tasted so good. Desire surged forth. He couldn’t help it, he’d longed for this.
For a few seconds she simply lay in his arms, frozen, but the same heat burning him must have thawed her surprise because she kissed him back. She pressed against him and clutched his hair. Her tongue danced with his, then she broke away.
“Morgan, I—”
He stopped her with another searing kiss. He throbbed with need. She shifted in his lap, arousing him further. Her hands reached up to touch his face. He was lost.
“Perhaps you could finish that later,” Ninian said. She stood before them, a ring of keys dangling from her fingers.
He helped Annora to her feet, noting the pleasant flush of her cheeks in the moonlight. His distraction had worked. But soon she’d ask questions he wasn’t sure how to answer.
As they raced toward freedom, the mess he’d made irritated Morgan more than the manacles had his wrists. Not only would Ninian never let him hear the end of this, but all he wanted to do was kiss Annora again.
With each taste, he grew more infatuated. Withdrawing from her now would yield nothing but torment. But withdraw he must, or risk failure.
And his, Merlin’s, King Arthur’s and all of Britain’s futures.
• • •
Annora prayed furiously as they scurried through Llanarglyn’s shadowy streets. Every sound made her jump, whether a scurrying rat or a church bell clanging. Questions vied to be heard louder than her Hail Marys. How would they hide until the town gates opened in the morning? Would ap Lewis catch up? How had Ninian freed her and Morgan? And why had Morgan lavished her so suddenly with delicious, arousing kisses?
A flood of guilt drowned her thoughts. This was all her fault. Their lives were in danger because she’d fought the fate God had given her. Should she have meekly accepted her uncle’s domination and abuse? On the other hand, Morgan might very well be dead if she hadn’t been in the cottage to help him….
“Get down,” Morgan hissed.
As one they crouched behind a low, ivy-draped wall. A pair of guards strolled by.
Annora’s heart resumed its frantic beating as their heavy steps continued. She held her breath and almost choked in the process. Morgan’s chest rose and fell against her back.
Endless moments passed. Her thighs and knees cramped from their awkward position, but she didn’t move. Eve
ntually Morgan tapped her on the shoulder. Annora eased into a standing position and followed him and Ninian down the street deep into a foul-smelling alley. She shuddered to think what lurked in the refuse lining the walls. The fattest rat she’d ever seen boldly sauntered up and would have marched right over her feet if she hadn’t jumped back. She shuddered and held her nose.
“We’ll stay here until the gate opens,” he whispered. “They’ll be looking for three of us. So Annora and I will leave together. And Ninian, shortly thereafter. I’m sorry, but we have to find something among the rubble to cover our heads.”
Annora held her breath while they searched through reeking piles until they uncovered filthy but salvageable rags. She couldn’t bear to think what had left the disgusting stains on them. Then as she had in the cell, Annora searched the dark for the least dirty spot. Not that it mattered, soiled as she was. She sat, head on her knees.
Morgan sat across from her and Ninian beside him. She wanted to go to Morgan and partake of his warmth and comfort. But Ninian’s presence stopped her.
Dawn seemed a long time coming. When at last the gates opened, she and Morgan joined the small crowd waiting to depart. They kept their rag-covered heads down and slipped out amidst the others. As the throng moved slowly down the road, Morgan took her hand. She smiled, despite the strain of their escape. If not for the reassurance of his hand in hers, Annora’s nerves might have gotten the better of her.
A few tense moments later, Ninian joined them.
“We did it!” Annora said, relief washing over her.
“Normally the guards are more concerned with who enters than who exits,” Morgan said. “But when ap Lewis finds us missing, he’ll be beyond furious. The farther we get from his domain, the better.”
Chapter 6
“Annora, wake up,” Morgan shook her shoulder. “You’ll fall off your horse.”
Annora regarded him, bleary-eyed.
“We’ll be there soon.”
She sighed, sat up straight and returned her attention to the road. This one cut through rolling hills farmed in strips owned by various tenants. The crops had been harvested, leaving remnants of stalks like tiny soldiers marching across the land. Cows grazed on the stubble in some strips, while others lay fallow.
Since leaving Llanarglyn, finding the king’s court had taken days. They’d chosen to head south and east toward Windsor Castle, one of King Edward’s favorites. Fortunately, they hadn’t gone too far when they learned from a band of travelers he was visiting Hertfordshire to rebuild part of Hertford Castle.
When would this journey end? Her stomach growled. The mid-day sun made her squint and sweat. Morgan had decided they could remove their hats for a while, at least.
Morgan dug into his pack and handed her some dried figs.
“My thanks.” She shifted in her saddle. “I can’t wait to sleep in a bed.”
Morgan replied, “Lodgings can be scarce wherever the king is, with all the lesser nobles and petitioners seeking rooms in the castle and town. But Ninian will find us something.”
Ninian’s serene smile grated on Annora’s already taut nerves. Nothing ever seemed to upset or bother her, no task seemed too daunting. Did she have even a single flaw? As always she looked unsullied and cheery as a daisy, while Annora knew her own clothing was rumpled. She felt cranky and was tired of trying to hide it.
“I am fortunate to have numerous connections from the sales of my potions and tinctures,” Ninian said. “Whether noble or peasant, all are exceedingly thankful after they’ve recovered from an illness. Because I’ve helped the king’s chamberlain, I should be able to secure us a chamber within the castle.”
A bed. Annora whispered a silent prayer of thanks as she chewed a fig. Not only was the ground cold and uncomfortable, she couldn’t sleep well without four solid walls around her. Night noises from animal calls to insects chirping often woke her, leaving her on edge for hours with eyes wide open. Morgan didn’t get much sleep either, she knew. He spent much time sitting with his back against a tree or, if he’d found a cave or abandoned hut, staring out of the entrance. What did he think about? Ninian seemed to be the only one who adjusted well to the rigors of the road. Of course.
“So where in Cornwall would have ap Lewis taken us?” Annora asked.
The dangers of escape and exertion of travel had pushed all thoughts of Morgan and ap Lewis’s strange conversation from her mind until now. She’d be surprised if he replied, but had nothing to lose in the asking.
Morgan heaved such a huge sigh. She didn’t care if he thought her annoying. She deserved to know.
“To Tintagel, where he believes my father is. Cornwall is a ruse I’ve fed him. He must’ve tried to find my father on his own and failed. We’d have journeyed all that way for nothing except the satisfaction of annoying ap Lewis further. My father actually…resides in Wales, near Caerfyrddin. Carmarthen, you English would call it.”
“And who is the ‘she’ you both referred to?”
That earned a loud “Ha!” from Ninian.
“She’s the woman my father loved. And who betrayed him in the end.”
“Ruined his life, as well,” Ninian added. “Likely forever. And ever.”
Morgan glared at her.
“I don’t understand,” Annora said. “What does ap Lewis want from your father?”
Silence.
“Go ahead, tell her,” Ninian encouraged. “Because of you, her life has been endangered not once but twice. ’Tis the least you can do.”
The horses plodded down the path, clopping hooves drowning out the birds. Those birds would sing every song they knew before Morgan revealed anything truly useful about his past.
“There are two reasons,” he said grudgingly.
Morgan was going to tell her something important! At last. Shock almost made her tumble off Moonshadow.
“First, ap Lewis wants this woman for himself, but knows she was my father’s lover. Obviously he hasn’t gotten over that.”
“Who is ‘this woman?’ What’s so special about her that makes two men lose their heads?”
“Men find her…enchanting. Like the Sirens who lured Odysseus’s men to their deaths, wouldn’t you say, Morgan?” Ninian asked.
“Stuffing wax in his ears won’t protect a man from her, though. She’s more like a spider, who lures men into her silken web and snaps them up when they least expect it. Like Circe,” Morgan said.
“The woman who enticed Odysseus’s men and used potions to change them into animals?” Annora asked.
“There are no potions for that,” Ninian muttered. “Except in Homer’s mind.”
“Yes. Second, thanks to her, ap Lewis is one of the few who knows my father’s…secrets,” Morgan continued. “He hopes to steal them and use them for his own ends.”
“Secrets? What secrets?” Now that the dam of knowledge about Morgan’s past had sprung a leak, Annora desired a deluge. Her need burned hot as the sun. She wanted to fathom the secrets of his mind and his body.
Morgan sighed. He lowered his head, his silvery hair forming a curtain around his face and hiding his expression. “Didn’t you agree to accept me as the man I am now?” He sounded more hurt than angry.
She had. But that didn’t stop her from wanting to know all of him. Past, present and future. Chastised, Annora remained silent.
“Morgan, am I going to have to follow you everywhere and make sure you treat her as you should?” Ninian demanded. “If he doesn’t tell you what you need to know, Annora, I will.”
“Ninian. Do not betray our friendship.” Morgan’s voice was low and ominous.
“She can handle the truth,” Ninian shot back.
“’Tis not for you to decide.”
“Do you claim ownership of her, then?”
“Stop it, the both of you,” Annora ordered. “You make my head ache.”
The tension was getting to all of them. Annora wanted answers, but couldn’t bear to see Ninian and Morgan fight, es
pecially over her. When they had some privacy, she’d take Ninian up on her generous offer.
She tipped her head from side to side to ease the stiffness in her neck. ’Twas easy to say she’d do anything to regain control of Amberton, but the actual doing of it taxed her more than she had expected.
• • •
“I can’t believe Sir Roger Scrope would treat his niece so poorly. But until I unearth the truth of the matter, I shall order a guard posted outside her door day and night,” offered Edward IV’s chamberlain, Lord William Hastings, after hearing their tale.
They sat in his office, glad to receive his munificence. Perhaps thirty, with dark hair, black hat and black robes, Hastings conveyed authority. A heavy chain of linked white roses in sunbursts, which Annora knew to be King Edward’s badge, hung around his neck.
Annora had watched in awe when Ninian presented her name upon their arrival at Hertford Castle on the River Lea, where they’d indeed found the king and his court. Moments later, despite their lowly attire, they’d been swept inside ahead of dozens of others awaiting an appointment with one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. No one was allowed to see the king without Hastings’s approval.
She wouldn’t let the room’s elegance intimidate her, from the huge tapestries to the tall stained glass windows that filled the entire back wall to the imposing desk. Nor the fact that she was still dressed as a boy, and a dirty, smelly one at that. Running for her life had changed the value she placed on things. She’d taken so much for granted before her father died. A delicious meal was more satisfying than a gown of fine brocade. Surviving and defeating Roger were most important, not her appearance.
Again she thanked God for sending Morgan and Ninian to her and for helping her to trust her instincts and take Morgan in. If not for them, she might still be sitting in Wales, trying to figure out what to do next. Her situation reminded her of Ovid’s tale about Philemon and Baucis. They gave food and drink to Jupiter and his son, who were disguised as poor travelers, and were well rewarded for their kindness.