Forbidden Magic (9 page)

Amery stared after the shadow that crossed the stream of light in the entryway, remembering the time he had saved Gunther's life. An enemy had thought to pierce him through from behind while Gunther lowered his sword to the white flag of truce. It had been a trap and Amery had seen it in time, killing the foe with a powerful swing of his war ax. Amery had only done what any other knight would have done, but Gunther had never agreed and had vowed his allegiance until death. Yet Amery suspected that Gunther only used this as an excuse, that for some reason Gunther thought Amery needed an older brother and Gunther would be he. Chuckling softly, Amery went to the stall where he had laid his helm and bent to retrieve it, pausing when he saw a glimpse of blue amid the straw on the floor. Mild interest lined his brow and he crouched down to examine it further. Uncovering a satin ribbon trimmed with lace, he picked it up to study it, his frown deepening. Only a stable boy or those who came to reclaim their steeds ever had cause to find themselves here, and none that he could recall would wear such a frilly decoration. Then how could it have—?

Amery's head shot up instantly, an answer coming to mind when he suddenly remembered the wench's offer to seek her rest in the stable. Mayhap she had done just that! Rising, he scrutinized the shadows for a clue to her whereabouts and once satisfied each corner was empty, he set his gaze on the loft above him. A smile broke the hard line of his mouth and he stepped back in hopes of spying a coppery-colored head hiding among the piles of straw. The haymow ran the full length of one side of the stable and because of its height, Amery soon realized he could not see every inch of it from where he stood. He would have to climb up. Glancing to his left, he spotted the ladder that led the way and had started toward it when he heard the galloping of hooves outside on the road and the voices that called out to his friend. He paused to listen.

"We are looking for a young woman on foot," someone stated. "Mayhap you have seen her?"

"Nay," Gunther replied. "I have risen only a short while ago
and 'tis my first sight of the day outside the inn. Perchance
someone there hath seen her."

Amery's gaze quickly raced the length of the loft again, his devilish grin revealing white teeth.

"A thief, perhaps, that you search and wish to bring justice down on her head?" Gunther continued lightly.

"Nay, m'lord. A lady-in-waiting to the dowager queen. Our group was separated during the storm of last eventide. 'Twas our duty to escort her home. We can only pray no harm has come to her."

"A... a lady-in-waiting? To Queen Eleanor?" Gunther asked nervously.

"Yea. The fair Lady Jewel of Harcourt."

Only a moment of silence passed among the men before Gunther urgently suggested they ask the keeper of the inn if he had had word of Lady Jewel, but Amery heard none of it. His face registered his surprise upon learning the young virgin was his own betrothed, then it twisted into a smile and he quickly turned to search the loft for her whereabouts. If he had overheard the conversation of the new arrivals, then so had she. And he knew that given a moment of thought, she would scream and bring her knights, swords raised, to hail the punishment she deemed fitting. To stop them from killing him would mean revealing his name, and since he thought to enjoy masking his identify from her a while longer, he would be forced to end the lives of two valuable knights, for they would be no match for his skills. Quietly and with the stealth of a wild animal heavy on the scent, he advanced, noiselessly climbing the rickety ladder. A vague smile parted his lips and sparkled brightly in his eyes as he studied the various mounds of hay, noticing how one lay flat as if recently crushed beneath someone's weight. He moved closer and touched a hand to it, feeling its warmth and knowing it had not been long abandoned. His grin widened, certain victory and the sweet Lady Jewel were within reach.

Of the numerous piles, one seemed large enough to hide almost anything, and it was in this direction he stepped. But just as he came within distance of lunging upon it, a noise brought him around in time to see a flash of white linen gunna and shapely feminine curves race for possession of a large piece of timber lying on the floor. With quick agility, he dove through midair, caught Jewel around the waist before she could grasp her weapon, and tumbled them both into the hay. She opened her mouth to scream, only to have it muffled behind the wide hand that pressed firmly against her lips. Eyes wide, she struggled briefly until Amery towered his weight upon her, his devilish grin chilling her to the bone.

"Lady Jewel of Harcourt," he whispered. "Had I known, I might have waited."

His words confused her, but Jewel could not question them as he continued his hold on her. She could only attempt to force herself not to move, certain he would take her here with little care for who might intrude, yet she could feel her entire body tremble from their closeness. She had thought Cod had favored her the evening past when she had slipped from his room and had found the hall of the inn empty, allowing her escape to go unnoticed. She had hurried to the stable, climbed the ladder, and made a bed of straw where no one could see her should they step inside. She had lain awake crying, willing sleep to overcome her and chase away her living nightmare, until just before dawn she had fallen into exhausted slumber. Then voices below had disturbed her peace, and she had opened her eyes, listening to the conversation the men held and knowing in an instant that one was the man who had abused her. Crawling on hands and knees, she had moved to the edge of the loft and had watched them saddle their horses, believing that in a few minutes they would be gone and she would be able to search for her escort without worry.

Then her eyes had caught sight of the blue ribbon lying near the knight's helm in one of the stalls. A startled gasp had lodged in her throat, one hand had risen to the fastenings of her gunna, and she had silently cursed her misfortune when she discovered the satin piece of cloth had been torn from her gown. Biting her lower lip, she had quietly returned to her hiding place and prayed he would not see the ribbon, that somehow she would be saved. Then one of the knights had ridden from the stable and she had held her breath, waiting for the second to join his companion. But when no sounds came from below, she had inched her way toward the edge of the loft again to see why and had been frozen to her spot when she had seen the knight heading for the ladder. She had known there would be no escape unless she could hide and wait until he had moved far enough away that she could slip past him and descend the wooden rungs before he knew. Realizing no other way offered a better solution, she had moved back and crouched behind a mound of straw. Her heart had pounded and tears had threatened to spill between her closed lashes, for she had been certain she was doomed. Then she had heard the arrival of several horses outside the stable and the words exchanged and had known her escort had finally come. But it had meant she must still get past the knight who had begun to climb the ladder. Everything from that point on had been a blur and now that she found herself pinned beneath him, his _ hand clamped over her mouth, she wondered fruitlessly why she had not called out and revealed her presence. Squeezing her eyes shut to block Out the vision of his handsome face, jewel prayed that Cod would grant her strength to endure his advances one more time.

"I find your beauty by morning light even more breathtaking, little one."

Jewel could feel his warm breath against her cheek, suffocating her and quickening her pulse.

"Look at me, Jewel of Harcourt," he bade softly. "I wish for you to remember."

Her eyes flew open and he chuckled at the hatred he saw in them.

"I had thought our paths would not cross again, but I was wrong. We shall see each other one more time, and much sooner than you think. It will surprise you. Now promise not to hail your knights with a scream and I will take my hand away." He waited for her to agree, but when she only glared at him, he added, "I would kill them long before their swords were drawn."

Jewel considered him a moment, then nodded, certain he spoke the truth, for any man as bold as he would not hesitate to save his life honorably or from the shadows.

"Tis wisdom you show," he declared with a grin, "and foolishness to think you could run from me before I was finished with you." A lean finger traced the smooth lines of her face. "I have bedded many and none as soft and alluring as you. You gave great pleasure and dulled my senses. 'Tis the only reason I can think of to have caused the night to slip away without my knowing. I look forward to having you again, sweet Jewel."

A tremor of fear raced through her, but she bravely lifted her chin and warned, "Then take heed, sir knight. If your arrogance guides your steps to my room, you shall find the point of my dagger your only welcome."

He chuckled gaily. "No doubt, m'lady, but I had thought to sample your treasures long before you returned home. And unless you hide the knife beneath your gunna, your threat is without merit."

Jewel's face whitened and her breath left her.

"Mayhap I should search. You have spilled my blood once and would not hesitate to do so again, I'm sure." He grinned, his left hand following the long, shapely line just below her bosom to her waist, hip, and thigh, as he laid on top of her, disallowing any movement on her part. He shifted slightly and began again to slowly caress her body with his other hand. When he had finished, he lifted tawny brows as if surprised. "Perchance you hide it here." He smiled, a wide hand touching the valley between her heaving breasts. "Shall we see?"

But when he rose up slightly to unfasten the strings lacing the front of her gunna, Jewel seized the chance to strike his face. The loud crack when her open hand connected with his cheek startled Amery more than the attack caused him any pain and he pulled back with a grin.

"So the vixen's spirit has not left her. I am glad. I always enjoy a struggle. Doth remind me who is weaker."

"Mayhap of body, sirrah, but not of mind," she spat, overcome with anger. "Methinks even the simplest of maids more wise than you!" Without a moment's delay, she pushed up, bending one knee to brace herself and give leverage. But in doing so, she struck him squarely in the groin.

Amery let out a howl of pain, rolling from her in agony, and Jewel rose up on her elbows, unable to fathom the reason for his distress. Suddenly she saw the way had opened up for her to run. Awkwardly scrambling to her feet, she bounded off toward the ladder, swung one foot to the first rung, and started down. With a few steps remaining, she glanced backup to see if he followed, lost her balance, and tumbled from the ladder. Her head struck the hard ground and in the next instant blackness clouded her vision and she sagged limp upon the straw-covered floor.

His pain subsiding, Amery shook his head, then bolted to his feet once he discovered Jewel gone. Dashing to the ladder, he halted abruptly when he saw her fragile body lying still below him, and for a fleeting moment a strange torment knotted his chest. Had his selfish games caused her death? Then filled with rage, he half climbed, half slid down the ladder, landing at Jewel s side. He stood silent, looking down at the closed eyes, and failed to hear someone enter the stable.

"Amery!" Gunther called in an urgent whisper. "Amery, didst thou hear? The wench—" Gunther stumbled to a halt, his mouth falling open when his gaze took in the sight before him. "Dear God, Amery, what have you done?"

Kneeling, Amery cradled Jewel in his arms, a frown crimping his brow when he saw the small dot of blood near her temple. "She fell," he answered quietly. "She was hiding up in the loft and sought to escape me. And yea, I heard. The wench I bedded was my own betrothed."

Gunther slowly approached, dropping the reins of his steed, which he had guided back with him, and crouched down opposite his friend. "Is she—"

"Nay," Amery replied. "A small bump to her head. She will awake with only a thumping to remind her of our second meeting."

"Then we must go," Gunther warned. "Her knights are now questioning the keeper of the inn and it doth not seem he would be of strong backbone were he to be threatened. He will tell what happened, and if they find her thus, swords will be drawn."

"Yea." Amery nodded, tenderly picking a piece of straw from the thick auburn mane. " Tis best we avoid the spilling of their blood over a matterthat doth not concern them. The kirig needs all his men and to slay them so heedlessly would be a waste." Gently, he laid her down again and studied the beautiful face a moment before his mouth twisted into a smile. "I will enjoy the next time we meet and she learns my name."

"Then you will hold to your father's pledge?" Gunther asked hopefully.

Green eyes glanced up at him, a seriousness reflected in them. "Nay, my friend. What has happened between us doth not change my mind. I have lain with her without the bonds of wedlock and see no need to correct it."

"But Amery," Gunther argued, "'tis no common whore you bedded. 'Twas a lady, and much against her will from the scratches you carry. You have brought shame down upon her head and she the daughter of your father's friend."

Turning on him, Amery glowered his anger. "My father is
dead. I will hear no more of it!" He brushed past Gunther, went
to the stall where his helm lay, and with growing ire retrieved it
from the ground. "We must ride, Gunther. Enough daylight
has been wasted and our mission is too great to dally longer,"
he growled, dropping the helm in place. Gathering Conan's
reins, he easily swung himself up into the saddle, accepted the
shield Gunther held out to him, and jerked the steed around to
hastily exit the stable.