Knight's Prize (44 page)

Sung
Li raised his head proudly, like a man speaking of his daughter. "Miriel
has a strong heart."

"And
a big one," Rand said, placing a hand on the smaller man's shoulder.
"Big enough for the both of us."

So
began the peace between Sung Li and Rand. Indeed, while the sisters chatted on
and on, marveling over Miriel's hidden talents, the two men spoke of more
practical matters.

By
the end of the fugitives' long journey, when they drew close to Rivenloch,
they'd come to at least a tentative agreement as to what would and would not be
revealed about their grand adventure. Rand's true identity would be uncovered,
but Sung Li would remain Miriel's maidservant. As for The Shadow, his
disappearance would remain a mystery, and, of course, there would be no mention
of
huo yao.

************************************

A
hundred beeswax candles filled the great hall of Rivenloch with golden light
and scented the air with a summery warmth that belied the November fog lurking
beyond the stone walls. Miriel, dressed in the ruby surcoat Sung Li had
insisted she wear for luck, sat beside her new husband at their wedding feast,
gazing fondly now and then at the silver knot encircling her finger, as pleased
as a knight with a new sword.

Course
after
course
of delectable fare arrived from the kitchen
—broiled
venison,
trout with galentyne, civey of
hare,
mushroom
pasties, roast leeks and onions, flaky
apple
coffyns.
fig and raisin cream, pokerounce dripping
with
honey. But of course, everything was apportioned and accounted for by
Miriel herself.

Merry
music filled the hall, the notes of harp and gittern and psaltery following
after the pipe and tabor like noisy sparrows making chase in a spring forest.
Boniface sang roundelays of tender romance and lusty adventure, and several wee
children, more excited than hungry, abandoned their places at the table to
dance and twirl before the consort.

Forsooth,
Miriel might have been tempted to join them in their carefree celebration if
she hadn't been indulging in some clandestine revelry of her own beneath the
table.

She
fought back a startled gasp as Rand's fingers dragged up another inch of her
gown, dangerously close to revealing her thigh.

Not
to
be outdone, she repaid him in kind, working his surcoat slowly upward until her
fingertips tapped idly on his bare kneecap.

His mouth
twitched,
but with his free hand, he lifted his flagon
of
honey
mead as if naught untoward was going
on.
 
“A salu
te
to my
lovely new bride. Without
her, I would
dwell,"
he announced,
"in shadow."

Miriel's eyes
widened
at his risky choice of words.
But none seemed to n
otice.
Everyone raised their cups in
accord, echoing his
sentiments.

Miriel almost spit
mead
when
Rand's palm slipped
brazenly up over her knee to
settle
on her naked thigh.

Recovering quickly, she
gave
him a wicked glance and proposed a toast of her own. "And here's
to my worthy bridegroom. As the Chinese say,
Wo xiang gen ni shang
chuang."

At
the next table, Sung Li choked on his supper, initiating a fit of coughing.
Miriel beamed at Rand, raising her cup with one hand and venturing boldly up
his naked leg with the other.

While
the crowd cheered, Rand leaned close and whispered, "Dare I ask what that
means, my sweet?"

When
she breathed the suggestive translation into his ear, he made a curious
strangling sound. Determined not to lose his composure, he somehow managed to
swallow a calming draught of mead. But there was no hiding the desire glazing
his eyes at her blatant invitation.

Like
well-matched warriors at an impasse, each held the other at bay now, their
fingers mere inches away from rendering their opponent helpless.

Meanwhile,
the castle folk continued in their celebration, unaware of the silent battle
raging beneath their noses. Sung Li shot Miriel a severe glare for her vulgar
toast. Lord Gellir supped blithely on, likely unaware that he witnessed the
marriage of the last of his daughters, yet enjoying the festive atmosphere.
Lucy, newly wed herself, clung to her beloved Rauve like dew to a thistle.
Deirdre and Helena gave Miriel sly glances, as if they knew that the hot
Rivenloch blood flowing through her veins wouldn't keep her at the table much
longer.

Forsooth,
the lust between Miriel and Rand
was
simmering, dangerously close to boiling,
mostly because of their promise to Sung Li. The old man had insisted upon their
chastity for the last fortnight, babbling some nonsense about
abstinence
increasing the power of their offspring.
 
Given the circumstances of Sung Li's sacrifice and his long
and
loyal service to Miriel, they'd honored his
request.
But now that they were wed, and Rand's
wounds
had healed, Miriel could scarcely wait to climb
beneath
the linens with her new husband.

Rand's
thoughts were apparently aligned with hers. He raised his flagon again in her
honor. "My dear bride, may this tiny bud of love..." With unerring
stealth, his fingers slipped through her woman's curls, parting her nether lips
to light upon the very bud of which he spoke. "... bloom into a perfect
flower of marriage."

She
couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe. She could hardly think while his fingers
rested upon her, unmoving, as if daring her to writhe beneath his touch. Her
cheeks flushed hot, and she prayed the guests would think it simply a maiden's
blush.

Somehow
she managed to swallow a bracing gulp
of
mead. Then, her heart set on delicious revenge, she
returned his favor, lifting her cup. "Dearest husband, my love for you
grows by the moment so that my heart..." She stared pointedly into his
wary eyes as she let her hand slip beneath his surcoat to boldly invade his
trews, capturing the engorged treasure within. "... my heart swells nigh
to bursting."

His
shudder was so slight as to be invisible, his quiet groan imperceptible to all
except Miriel, who secretly reveled in her victory.

Yet
that victory came with a price. When she saw the smoky longing in his eyes, the
subtle flare of his nostrils, the quickened breath between his parted lips, it
increased her own craving. 'Twas all she could do to resist diving beneath the
table at once and having her way with him.

"My
love..." he croaked beneath the ongoing chatter of the castle folk,
"take care you do not—"

Suddenly,
the door to the great hall swung violently open, throwing a wedge of harsh gray
light into the chamber and banging hard against the stone wall. Even before the
fog had a chance to swirl into the room, Miriel and Rand had abandoned their
mischief and, along with most of the knights of Rivenloch, sprung to their
feet, weapons drawn.

"What
is the meaning of this?" the invader bellowed.

The
breath froze in Miriel's throat, as if the chill mist had crystallized it
there. 'Twas the Lord of Morbroch. He'd come with his men.

Bloody
hell.

Was
their marriage to be ruined before it had yet begun? Had the Lord of Morbroch
discovered the trickery played upon him? Did he realize that Rand had deceived
him? Had he returned for Sung Li? Had he come for
her?

Rand,
his protective instincts in play, hauled her behind him, out of sight.

Miriel,
her instincts just as strong, stepped out from behind him again, wrapping a
ready hand around the hilt of the
bay sow
hidden up her sleeve.

"Morbroch!"
Lord Gellir called out cheerily, unaware of the tension in the room.
"Welcome!"

Morbroch
entered the hall, his men close behind him, while the Rivenloch knights waited
in wary silence. The candles flickered as if in fear, and even the hounds whimpered
uneasily.

Miriel
glanced quickly at Sung Li. What if Morbroch saw him? Would he be fooled by the
maidservant guise? Sweet Mary, if he recognized Sung Li, if he revealed him as
The Shadow...

But to Miriel
's
surprise,
when Sung Li looked back at her, his
face was as
calm as a winter pond.

“You
do
remember
me!" Morbroch thundered
back at
Lord
Gellir.

"Of
course I—"

"And
yet you do not invite me to the wedding?"

Miriel
blinked. Had she heard him rightly? She exchanged fleet glances with her
sisters, who looked as baffled as she was.

Morbroch
sniffed, highly offended. He brushed the moisture from his cloak as he strode
forward. "You realize, do you not, 'twas by my design, this alliance
between your daughter and Rand la Nuit."

She
briefly caught Rand's eye. A tiny furrow creased his brow.

"Rand
la Nuit?" Lord Gellir paused, his cup of
honey
mead
halfway to his mouth. His white brows shot up,
then
knitted
in perplexity. "Rand la Nuit?
Isn
't he that mercenary?"

"Not
anymore, Father," Deirdre assured him, patting him on the arm. "He's
Miriel's husband and one of Rivenloch's knights now."

"That's
right, my lord," Pagan said firmly, more to
Morbroch
than
to Lord Gellir. "He's one of us."

The
Lord
of
Morbroch,
undaunted by the less-than-
hospitabte
welcome,
elbowed
his way through the crowd.
"Fear not," he
grumbled
irritably. "I've not come to...
disrupt your
celebration."
He
stopped before Rand. "I've
only come to
deliver a
wedding
gift. It seems you left
Morbroch
in such
haste
to
return to your bride, Sir Rand,
that you left something
behind."

Beside
her, Rand
stiffened.

Morbroch
reached beneath his cloak and tossed a bag of coins onto the table before Rand.
"Your reward?"

Rand
had to choose his words carefully. Everyone knew that he'd been paid to capture
The Shadow. But those involved had agreed to omit the details of the outlaw's
escape. "You owe me naught. I heard The Shadow slipped the hangman's
noose."

Morbroch's
laugh was a bark. "The hangman's noose mayhap, but..." Then he
frowned. "Did his sister not tell you?"

"His
sister?" Miriel asked.

"The
Shadow's sister," Morbroch said impatiently. "You know, the..."
He scoured the room. Then his gaze settled, and he nodded toward Sung Li.
"Her."

"The
Shadow's
sister,"
Miriel
repeated, giving her
xiansheng
an accusatory
glance. Sung Li had apparently been up to something devious.