Forbidden Magic

by Catherine Emm

  "Hadwin, thou must hear the whole of it before thou sayest me yea or nay. There are dangers in what I seek, and 'twill be your choice to make, for your life as well as mine will be at risk."

  A soft smile played upon his lips, and he cast his eyes from her to look upon the gloomy horizon. "Then let me tell thee first that I am a man full grown, though my cousins think me otherwise. I have not fought in many battles, not as great as Sir Amery or my lord, Sir Gunther, but my sword is swift, my heart true, and my mind made up. When my eyes first beheld thy beauty, I knew then to whom I would pledge my honor and undying faith, and if thou never speakest of love to me, fair Lady Jewel, to simply serve thee any way I can will be enough to last a lifetime." He turned his head to look at her. "Thou needest not explain, Lady Jewel, for I will follow thee blindly."

  Tears glistened anew in Jewel's eyes. No one had ever said kinder words to her, not even Radolf when he had spoken of love. Tenderly, she touched his arm. "My thanks, Sir Hadwin, knight of King Richard and friend. You honor me."

  "As you, me, for saying it." He smiled. "Now tell me what it is that has forced us to hide among the shadows this cold and dreary morn."

  His lightheadedness was infectious and put Jewel at ease. Slipping her arm into his, she turned them toward the wintry splendor spread out before them. "Whether I believe in Sir Amery's innocence or not is not the issue. To spare his half brother's life is," she began. "Amery will kill Radolf because of me, and I could not live with such guilt. Even now, I suspect Radolf is traveling this way with an army in search of the place where I have been taken. Should he find us, Amery will not hesitate to kill him. Thus, I must leave Burchard Castle and therefore need thy help."

  "Then I suspected the truth from the first," he quietly replied. "Thou art here against thy will."

  "Yea," she admitted, "but thou must not blame Amery for the deed. Sir Gunther hath told me that I am here for protection. Both he and Amery believe Lady Edlyn, Radolf's mother, has set her mind on killing me, that I was to have died with my family at Harcourt." She turned to look him squarely in the eye. "And herein lies my doubt as to Amery's claim that his half brother is responsible for the slaughter on my father's land. Radolf knew of my absence from Harcourt. If he stormed the castle with an army of knights to murder all within, then claim the lands as his own, why was I spared? All would be for naught, for as long as I live, Harcourt and its people are mine."

  Hadwin raised a blond brow. "'Twould seem logical." Cupping his chin in one hand, he turned and paced the small space they shared, his thoughts centered on finding an explanation. He straightened suddenly and looked back at her. "Lady Jewel, hath Sir Radolf spoken of love to you?"

  His question surprised her, and it showed clearly on her face. "Love?" she repeated. "What hath that—"

  "'Tis only a guess on my part, but a possibility that should be considered." Coming to her, he took her small hands in his. "Since by thy own admission danger lurks in every bend, we must clear our thoughts of things felt in our hearts and look upon this without prejudice. Agreed?"

  Jewel nodded, though hesitantly.

  "I do not know Sir Radolf or his mother, Lady Edlyn, only the rumors that have spread to Burchard Castle. 'Tis said that I Sir Amery and his stepmother share a hatred, and that the late lord of Wellington, Sir Ryland, favored his second son over his firstborn. Now thou hast admitted that the youngest hath told of his love for thee. But thou art not free to marry him because you belong to his half brother. Lady Edlyn's hatred for Sir Amery would explain why the blame for the tragedy at Harcourt was laid at his feet, and Sir Radolf's love for thee the reason thou were spared."

  A chill embraced Jewel as she listened, and as he spoke the last, tears welled in her eyes and she spun away from him in shame. "I pray it is not true, Hadwin. Cod forgive me for being the cause of my family's death."

  " 'Tis only a guess," Hadwin quickly said, touching her shoulder. "And thou art not to blame for the twisted thoughts of another. You are the victim, Lady' Jewel, and God understands."

  "Then I must see that those guilty are made to answer." She faced him again. "I must leave Burchard Castle. I must go to Radolf and demand the truth."

  "And I will guide the way and keep thee safe," he declared, smiling comfortingly.

  Jewel quickly raised her fingertips to his lips. "Think, Hadwin, before you commit thyself. If you do this for me, you will be turning your back against Sir Gunther and your cousins. 'Tis my guess they will not welcome you at Burchard with open arms should it be your wont to return. If you leave with me, it must be with the knowledge that you cannot ever again call this castle home."

  "Then assure me of safe refuge behind the gates of Harcourt, and I will be content," he answered.

  In that moment. Jewel knew of no other whose friendship she valued more. "I will do better. Harcourt is without a lord. Sir Hadwin. For thy help, the lands of my father shall be thine."

  The young man's mouth dropped open, and though he tried several times, no words would come. He misunderstood her generosity to mean that she would share the right to rule—as his wife. Overjoyed, he could do nothing but smile.

  "Doth thy silence mean yea. Sir Hadwin?" Jewel laughed, and when he nodded most exuberantly, she slid her arm into his again. "Then we must make our plans, for I wish to leave Burchard tomorrow's eve."

  "But that is the eve of Christ's birth, Jewel," he said with a frown.

  "Yea, and 'tis a time when all within the castle will meet in the great hall to celebrate. Wine and food will be plenty, and gaiety will blind the eyes of those who might otherwise miss our presence. Canst thou prepare two steeds and wait for meat the gate?"

  "Two of the swiftest," he guaranteed with a smile.

  "Then it is set," she replied. "I will watch for thy departure and when I think it is safe, I will come. Until then, Hadwin, we must not speak. Twould only raise Sir Amery's suspicion. Agreed?"

  "Agreed." Hadwin nodded.

  "Then go now," she insisted. "I will give thee time to be elsewhere before I leave the tower."

  An eerie stillness enveloped Jewel once Hadwin had gone. Her thin frame trembled, and she pulled her fur mantle snugly around her as she turned to look out across the gloomy grayness of the sky. Just above the horizon, she could see the faint yellow orb of the sun struggling to break through the dense clouds hovering over Burchard, and for a moment she wondered if she had made the right decision in leaving the safety of Sir Gunther's castle. His people were kind to her. No one judged her. She had actually felt the sort of peace she had only experienced within the walls of Harcourt. Yet, she knew she must not stay. It would be the coward's way. She must unravel the mystery concerning the death of her family and clear Radolf's name, for in her heart she could not believe him capable of such a heinous crime. Nor could she allow Amery to kill the man because of her. She bravely raised her chin in the air, squared her shoulders, and turned for the door. Yea, she would do this ... for Radolf, for her family, and even—oddly enough—for Amery.

  * * *

  The great hall was beginning to show signs of life by the time Jewel returned there. Serving maids were filling the long trestle tables with platters of meat and cheese, bowls of boiled eggs, pitchers of milk, and loaves of bread to feed the hungry masses that would soon descend upon the feast. To Jewel's relief, however, none of the knights had ventured from the warmth of their beds, and without a look or word to the young maids scurrying about the place, Jewel quickly crossed the room and ascended the stairs. If Cod would grant her one tiny favor, He would see to it that Amery was still asleep when she returned to his chambers. He would not have discovered her absence, and then there would be no need to lie to him.

  Jewel's heart thumped loudly in her chest when she pressed a small hand to the heavy door and pushed inward, for the hinges creaked and the noise seemed to echo throughout the castle. She silently repeated her prayer and stepped into the room. Golden light from the hearth fell across the huge bed and the one who commande
d it, and Jewel gave a breathless sigh that her secret would be safe. Crossing to a chair, she quickly laid her mantle over the arm and began to undo the fastenings of her gunna, intending to return to bed. When Amery awoke, he would find her there beside him and have no clue to her early morning travels. It brought a smile to her face that she, a mere damsel as he called her, could so easily steal away from him, meet another, and return before he stirred from slumber, and she wondered how a gallant knight such as he had lived so long. It seemed he turned his back on those he should trust least. Her eyes moved to the sewing basket and shears lying on the floor by the hearth where she had left them the night before and, without thinking, she bent and picked up the scissors. 'Twould be quite simple to thrust such a weapon in the warrior's back while his head was filled with dreams, she mused. The smile widened. And who could say 'twas not her right? 'Twas he accused of killing her family. 'Twas he who held her prisoner. 'Twas he who had forced her to live in shame. Sparkling amber eyes shifted to look at the one who was still abed, and Jewel's heart lurched in her chest, for there, wide awake and staring back at her, lay Amery, his head propped up on one fist, the fur pelts draped haphazardly over his lean hip, and a half smile curling one corner of his mouth. The scissors slipped from her fingers and fell noisily to the stone floor at her feet.

  "Hath the morning light given birth to evil deeds, little one?" he questioned lazily. "Or perhaps the urgings of a friend?"

  Jewel quickly looked away. She could feel the color rising in her cheeks, and although Had win and she had not discussed or even entertained the thought of slipping a blade between Amery's ribs, she could find no words to deny what he had plainly seen.

  "Tell me, Jewel," he went on, "where do lovers meet when every eye that watches will betray them?"

  Coppery curls shimmered in the firelight when she jerked her head up to stare at him in surprise. "Lovers?" she repeated. "Of what do you speak?"

  "I am not the one who is blind," he told her, lounging back comfortably on the pillow, his arms folded behind his head while he stared up at the canopy above him. "Young Had win is in love with you."

  "Mayhap," she easily replied, for there was no use in arguing when Hadwin had said as much only a few moments before. "But you spoke of lovers, and my heart has yet to feel such a thing." Dark brows lowered over her amber eyes as Jewel presented an accusing mien. " 'Tis because of thee I do not."

  Amery's head snapped around to look at her, and for a moment he seemed surprised. Then a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he sat up, flinging the fur pelts from his naked hips. Jewel's face flamed instantly at his boldness, and she quickly dropped her gaze and busied herself with putting away the shears and tidying up, thinking Amery planned to dress. She knew differently when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him cross the distance to her and felt his hand seize her wrist. She shrieked and quickly closed her eyes when he spun her around and crushed her to his hard, bare chest.

  "The heart will follow where the body takes it, little one," he murmured, "as its needs are greater."

  Jewel had struggled to get free of him until his words stilled her efforts. A bright smile sparkled in her eyes and played upon her mouth as she stared up at him. "Art thou admitting thy love for me, Sir Amery of Wellington?" she challenged.

  A flash of white teeth showed briefly. "Nay. I do not speak of love."

  Jewel raised a finely arched brow at him. "But by thy own confession, thou hast stated that love will surely blossom where once had been only the seed of physical desire. Didst thou speak an untruth? Or dost thou think thee immune?"

  "Nay, my little trickster." He grinned, giving her a squeeze. "I am the exception. Do not play games with me."

  "Games?" she countered, closing the trap around him. He had claimed he had seen a softening in her feelings toward him, and perhaps he had. But Jewel had seen the same in his toward her, whether he cared to admit it or not. "Art thou saying that if I left thee this eve, never to return, to place myself where thy eyes would never look upon me again, thou wouldst think no more of me?"

  "Dost thou plan such a journey?" he quickly queried, masking the strange emotion that sent a shiver through him. "I would beg thee to tell me of it soon enough that I could find another to fill my needs. The nights are cold and my passion limitless. I would need another before the dawning of the day."

  His words were meant to wound her, but Jewel would have none of it. "Is there such a person? One who could crowd the thoughts of me from your head?"

  He smiled lopsidedly. "Beware, Jewel of Harcourt. Thou thinkest too highly of thyself."

  "Nay," she returned, staring him straight in the eye. " 'Tis thee who ranks me there."

  "Above all others?" He laughed.

  Bright coppery curls bounced with the nod of her head.

  "Only because I have yet to find the one who will take thee down a notch," he maintained. "She is there. 'Tis only a matter of time before I know her name."

  "Is she?" Jewel contested, enjoying their match of wits.

  Amery knew she only wanted to provoke him, twist his words, and have him say something he did not truly feel. Yea, she was different from the rest. He knew that. But only in the simple fact that she was not ordinary. She had wisdom, integrity, and undying loyalty, qualities not often attributed to women. It would be difficult to find another whose traits surpassed those of this one who so openly opposed him. But he would. As soon as he tired of her. He smiled warmly into those captivating eyes that challenged him. "Yea, she is," he replied.

  "Then set thy feet upon the road, Sir Knight, for thy search will be long and hard. 'Tis not often a man can boast of two women in his lifetime. My father lived two score and ten, and had hut one."

  "Only because he honored the bonds of wedlock, oh foolish one," he answered. "And therein lies the difference. I do not. I am free to have as many damsels as I want."

  "To sate your passion. But what of your heart?" she posed.

  He shrugged a wide shoulder, suddenly irritated by the direction in which their bantering had turned. " Yea, what of my heart? Thou speakest as if there is a yearning to be fulfilled. There is not."

  "We shall see," she murmured with a smile.

  Green eyes narrowed suspiciously as he stared down at her, for he was curious as to what had brought about such a conversation. She spoke of leaving, though in a playful manner, and he could have dismissed her words as proof of the simple fact that she had accepted what would surely come to be. Had he not often recited it? Yet, he had seen the way young Hadwin had played for her attention and had openly defied Amery's claim on Jewel. Not in words, but in his moods, the look in his eyes whenever Amery had touched Jewel's arm or lifted an auburn strand of hair from her shoulder. And what worried Amery was that what the boy lacked in wisdom, he more than made up for in courage. He could not deny that Hadwin was skilled with a sword. He had seen him defend himself in battle. Yea, young Hadwin had done well against the foe, but his back had been protected by his cousins and Gunther and Amery. Alone and outnumbered, he would fall. And if he were to take Jewel with him, she too would die. Amery blinked when that unfamiliar sensation washed over him again, unable to place a name to it. It confused him, but more so it angered him. In all his years, he had never doubted himself, never felt a weakness, and yet because of a few words spoken in jest, he found that he could not utter a denial to Jewel's claim. Was it possible that she had touched his heart? Nay, 'twas only because she pleased him that the thought of losing her plagued him, he told himself. As he had said,in time he would find another to take her place, and what angered him was that she threatened to make the choice for him. A lazy smile spread across his face, and he gave her another squeeze.

  "Take heed, Jewel, that thy decree doth not do a turnabout, and 'tis thee who feels the ache of loneliness, not I."

  "Loneliness?" she challenged. "I feel it every day. I long to be cradled in the arms of one who loves me, hear him speak words of tenderness and sympathy, to know th
at on the morrow he will not cast me aside."

  The muscle in Amery's cheek flexed. "And hast thou found such a man?"

  Jewel wiggled free of him and went to the hearth, there to bend and add small logs to the fire. "In a manner of speaking, I have. When the matter of Harcourt is laid to rest, I will seek out a life in the convent, and God shall ease my loneliness and fill my days with serving Him.-"

  Amery felt the muscles over his entire body relax with her confession, for in all honesty he had expected the name of Had win to fall upon his ears. He gave a breathless sigh, then frowned, confused by his reaction. Was this barb that pierced his hardened shell the thorn of jealousy? Nay, it was not. And he would not be suffering these whirling thoughts had Gunther not poisoned his mind with silly notions. Suddenly aware of his nakedness, Amery turned abruptly, crossed the-room, and hurriedly got back into bed. This confinement, the infernal waiting, was wearing on his nerves. It must come to an end! He must clear his name and get on with living. He must claim his lands, rid them of his evil stepmother, then travel the roads and collect the ransom to free his Jung. He had no time to ponder matters as unimportant as who Jewel might find to love. It did not concern him. He blinked when a shadow fell across him, and he glanced up to find Jewel frowning back at him.

  "Art thou ill, Amery?" she asked, worry etched in her fair features. "Doth thy wound still plague thee?"

  "Yea." He frowned crossly, folding his arms in back of his head and staring up at the canopy above him. "The wound of deceit. There are those who practice it even when my back is not turned."

  Jewel felt the blush rise in her cheeks. How could he possibly know? Had she said something that had given away her plan? Or did he, perhaps, mean his half brother? She drew in a breath to ask, "Who, Amery? Who plays false with thee?"

  Wide shoulders relaxed with his sigh as though a heavy weight had been taken from him. "Twas first my stepmother, Edlyn, who turned the truth and spread lies to my father. Then Radolf, who has no mind of his own, but willingly takes the path his mother chooses for him. I can understand their greed, even their hatred. But the trickery of a friend baffles me."