Fire of the Soul (25 page)

Now it was he who stretched his hand toward
her, but she was walking out of the chapel and did not see. Nor did
she hear his whispered words that would have called her back.

“Calia, wait. Don’t go.”

She left him there, alone, to stare around
himself at the desolation of what had once been a welcoming and
peaceful place. He could feel the chill of Mallory’s presence in
the damp air, in the blank emptiness of the little chapel, and in
all his bones. With his thoughts in turmoil and his heart aching,
Garit fell to his knees before the denuded altar.

“Dear heaven above, help me,” he pleaded.
“Help all of us.”

“Get out.” Mallory held the door to the
lord’s chamber wide. A single jerk of his head signaled the
maidservant to leave as quickly as she could. When she was gone he
latched the door and advanced on his wife.

“Mallory? Is something wrong?” Fenella began
to look uneasy.

“Aye,” he snarled. “I have a need.”

“You have?” She watched him pulling up his
tunic and lowering his hose to expose his huge erection. She licked
her lips. “Before the midday meal? How scandalous. And, oh, Mallory
my dearest, how very exciting. Just let me remove my gown.”

“Leave it on. This won’t take long.”

“But the skirt will wrinkle. It’s silk, you
know and very expensive. Oh!” Fenella cried out as he brought one
of his arms up to catch her across her chest and tumble her onto
the bed. She gasped when Mallory lifted her skirts high and pulled
her legs apart, and she screeched when he drove his hardness into
her. “That hurt. Couldn’t you take a moment to touch me first?”

“I’ve no time for touching. Be quiet. Do you
want the entire castle to know that your lord lusts after you in
the middle of the day?”

“Oh, Mallory, you do care about me.” She
wrapped her arms around him, clutching at him in the way he
detested. “You wouldn’t be so eager to take me if you were
indifferent. Oh, my dear husband.”

Mallory could sense her body’s initial
resistance to his harsh intrusion fading away. He could feel how
her feminine parts moistened as she convinced herself yet again
that he loved her. When she began to murmur and to wriggle against
him, eagerly seeking her own pleasure, he unleashed all the anger
he felt against Garit, who no doubt wanted to seize Kinath away
from him, and against Lady Elgida, that meddling old witch. Weary
and fragile, was she? He’d see to it that she was even more fragile
before she left Kinath. Not caring what his wife was feeling
Mallory pounded into her, on and on, straining for the final
release.

“Oh, Mallory, how I adore you. How strong you
are. Oh! Oh!” Fenella screamed out her climax, apparently
indifferent to what anyone who might hear would think of her for
taking her pleasure so early in the day. Weeping and gasping, she
clawed his back and bucked against his hard thrusts.

Just before the darkness of his own
completion caught him up and whirled him into a region of black
clouds and flames, Mallory understood what he would have to do. It
was all quite simple, really.

He came back to himself suddenly, his
thoughts clear, his body sated for the moment. Fenella lay sprawled
beneath him, looking so much like a satisfied cat that he longed to
slap her. That wouldn’t do, though. Not yet. He’d have to be
patient for a little while longer.

Fenella went down to the great hall with her
hand on his arm, wearing a smug expression and with her skirts so
wrinkled that, seeing her, Lady Elgida’s eyebrows rose almost to
the edge of her white linen coif. Calia saw, too, and blushed, thus
offering proof to Mallory that her claim of not having slept with
Garit was almost certainly true. Only a virgin’s face would turn
bright red to see evidence of marital relations.

Mallory decided that was all to the good. He
could use Garit’s frustrated desire for Calia to torment his guest,
for he was sure that Garit would do his best to resist bedding
Walderon’s daughter. But the road to Kerun City was several days
long and Mallory would find an opportunity to leave the two alone
and close together, and then he’d let Garit’s manly lust take its
natural course.

After Garit had violated Calia, Mallory would
have the perfect excuse to kill him. No man with any sense of honor
could gainsay a brother’s right in such a case. Perhaps he’d even
force Garit to marry Calia before he died, just in case he’d got
her with child. Mallory would promise to raise the babe himself.
His lips curled in anticipation of his perfect revenge on the man
who had caused his father’s downfall and death.

He saw Calia watching him in trepidation and
he knew she was wondering what he was plotting. She would learn
soon enough. When it was all over, when Mallory was lord of Kinath
Castle in fact and not just guardian there, then he’d send his
irritatingly scrupulous sister back to Talier Beguinage, to live
out her life under the supervision of Garit’s aunt, and he’d make
certain that Mother Mage Adana learned what her erstwhile student
had been doing during her absence from Talier and that Calia was
responsible for Garit’s death. He smiled at the prospect.

Fenella saw her husband’s smile and,
imagining it was meant for her, she shuddered in erotic
anticipation. Then she sighed and leaned against his arm,
whispering that she was ready for him whenever he wanted her again.
Mallory gritted his teeth to distract himself from the image of his
wife’s eager body and grasping hands. To divert himself for a few
moments he thought of the delights he’d enjoy with the slender,
elegant ladies of the royal court. He did not look at Fenella
again.

“I don’t want Kinath for my own,” Garit said
to Mallory in response to his host’s question. It was evening and
they were at the high table, with Fenella sitting at Garit’s left
hand and Lady Elgida placed on Mallory’s right side. The food was
somewhat sparse, consisting mostly of tough, boiled meat left over
from the midday meal and a vegetable stew that contained too many
turnips for Garit’s taste. The wine was a bit sour, too.

Gazing into his silver wine cup, Garit
subdued the grimace he wanted to make. The meal was almost over and
he was still hungry. An unappetizing-looking fruit tart did not
tempt him, nor did the moldy wedge of cheese a servant offered.
However, he noticed that Lady Elgida appeared to be enjoying the
custard that Fenella claimed had been made just for her.

“You are no longer used to eating our rough
Kantian meals,” Fenella told her as the final course was served.
“My lord Mallory suggested a sweeter, gentler recipe to ease your
digestion.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Lady Elgida
responded with a smile.

“Oh, come now, Garit,” Mallory said, speaking
right over the women’s remarks, with his coolly insinuating words
demanding his guest’s complete attention. “Every man yearns to be
master of his own castle, with a title and lands to go with
it.”

“If that’s so,” Garit told him, “then I have
a castle and lands in southern Sapaudia that I earned with my own
sword and my blood. But the truth is, I don’t crave power, whether
here in Kantia, or at King Henryk’s court. When the woman I loved
was killed I saw how meaningless land and titles and earthly power
really are, and how deadly ambition can be.”

“You refer to my father, of course.” A
definite menacing note colored Malloy’s harsh tone.

“In part.” Garit spoke calmly, having
anticipated the remark. Indeed, he had deliberately chosen his
words to invite Mallory’s comment. “Lord Walderon was not the only
ambitious man I’ve ever known, though I will say he was one of the
deadliest.”

“Now, there’s a recommendation.” Mallory’s
smile was cold.

Garit decided the moment had come to raise
the stakes in the game he and Mallory were playing. Pitching his
voice so the ladies on either side of them could hear, he asked,
“Why haven’t you invited your sister to join us at the high table?
You are slighting her by not acknowledging her publicly.”

“Your sister?” Fenella cried, gaping at
Mallory in amazement. “Who is your sister? You have never mentioned
her. Where is she?”

For just an instant, Mallory appeared at a
loss to make a coherent reply. He recovered quickly, though the
look he cast upon Garit could have slain a weaker man.

“Calia sits at a lower table,” he said to his
wife.

“Calia? Lady Elgida’s companion? My lady,”
Fenella cried, looking now at the older woman, “is what Garit says
true? Have you brought my dear lord’s sister into our home and
never told us?”

“I believe Sir Mallory recognized her at
once,” Lady Elgida responded with admirable composure. “But, since
he did not speak to her, I assumed he did not wish to acknowledge
their relationship.”

“Not acknowledge his own sister? That’s
ridiculous,” Fenella exclaimed. When she began to rise, Mallory
stopped her with a brusque command.

“Stay where you are, Fenella. Do not
interfere in my family affairs.”

“I am part of your family,” Fenella cried. “I
want to speak with your sister, to welcome her to Kinath.”

“
Sit. Down.”

For a long moment Fenella’s glance locked
with that of her husband. Then she sank back into her chair. At
once, as if he wanted to ease the tension between husband and wife,
Durand, who was sitting on Fenella’s other side, said something to
her that required her attention and she turned away to answer
him.

“Tell me, Garit,” Mallory drawled, “have you
bedded Calia, not knowing who she is? You must have been devastated
when you learned the truth about her.”

“Calia is not to blame for her parentage,”
Garit said through set teeth. He wasn’t sure in his own mind
whether he was more angry that he felt obliged to defend Calia, or
that Mallory was accusing him of despoiling a virgin. He was
perfectly aware that if he was not careful Mallory would challenge
him to hand-to-hand combat over Calia. She’d make a perfect excuse
for the bloodletting that Garit was sure Mallory wanted in revenge
for his father’s execution. The fact that Walderon had richly
deserved his terrible end would not matter to Mallory.

“Calia is an honorable woman,” Garit said,
putting a distinct chill into his words. “Your insulting question
requires no answer, but since you are her older brother and,
presumably, you have some slight interest in her welfare, I will
tell you honestly that I have always treated her with the respect
she deserves. I wish that you would do the same and invite her to
join us here at the high table.”

“I prefer not to embarrass her. Calia is not
used to noble manners.”

“I have never found her manners lacking,”
Lady Elgida spoke up before Garit could offer a fresh defense.
“Calia is a lady in every way, except that she is better educated
and far more capable than most noblewomen.”

“Except, of course, that she is
not
a
lady,” Mallory added with a sly glance in Garit’s direction that
dared him to challenge such an unbrotherly declaration.

“Since no one at this particular high table
is noted for witty or learned conversation,” Durand intervened with
a self-deprecating laugh that removed the sting from his words,
“perhaps Calia is content to sit with Garit’s honest and
trustworthy men-at-arms.”

Mallory could have objected to the hint that
he was neither honest nor trustwothy, but he did not. When Fenella
giggled and exclaimed that she certainly wasn’t witty either, the
tense moment passed.

Garit exercised the patience learned in his
diplomatic career to bring his temper under control. Knowing he was
responsible for his grandmother’s safety as well as the safety of
the two other women in his party, he could not rise to the bait
that Mallory offered. Mallory would likely provide future
opportunities for a violent quarrel before they left Kinath, but
the success of his and Durand’s mission in Kantia and his
grandmother’s goal of securing the safety of his young
half-brothers required him to think carefully before making an
emotional response.

So he brushed aside the insults Mallory had
made against his own sister and played the part of a polite guest
until they all rose from the table and he was called upon to escort
Lady Elgida to her bedchamber.

Just as they reached the staircase a murmur
from those at the lower tables made him pause and look back. He had
already noticed how birds flew in and out of the opening over the
old firepit just as they had done when he was a boy. But never
before had he seen so large a bird flying about the great hall and
neither, apparently, had the rest of the household. A huge white
owl glided gracefully among the rafters, swooping low enough for
Durand to put out one had as if to touch it.

Garit saw Calia smiling as she watched the
bird. Only Mallory and Fenella seemed not to notice it. Then the
owl was gone, flying out of the hole through which it had entered,
and the ordinary folk resumed their conversations or their duties
as if it had never appeared.

Later that night Lady Elgida became sick.
Calia leapt out of bed to hold the chamberpot for her.

“All I can taste is the custard,” Lady Elgida
said as she sank back onto her pillows. “There was too much honey
in it, but I didn’t want to offend Fenella by refusing to eat all
of it after she said it was made especially for me.”

“Did anyone else eat the custard?” Calia
asked.

“No, there was just enough for me,” Lady
Elgida replied.

“Rinse your mouth, but don’t swallow the
water,” Calia instructed, holding a brimming cup to the lady’s
lips. “Let your stomach rest for a time.”

“I doubt if I could keep even plain water
down,” Lady Elgida said. The fact that she did not remark upon
Calia giving her orders told the younger woman that her mistress
was feeling miserable. Or else she was harboring the same dreadful
suspicion that had occurred to Calia.