Sharon Schulze - L'eau Clair Chronicles 03 (21 page)

Siwardson picked up a metal cup set near the fire and brought it to her. She accepted the warm drink—ale, from the smell of it—and sipped at it, waiting patiently.

Siwardson’s face settled into sober lines, the rare serious expression lending an entirely different cast to his attractive features. He looked dangerous now, Ian thought.

He looked deadly.

He’d known the man as a decent fighter, but despite that, and his great size, he’d not considered him a threat.

He would have to revise his estimation of him now.

“I could stay at Dolwyddelan no longer,” Siwardson said.

“What Llywelyn wanted me to do felt wrong, and I owe him no allegiance. I came here to negotiate trade between my father and the prince, not to help him as he carries out some vengeance upon you.” Disgust colored his voice, lending it a sinister air.

“I don’t make war upon women. Whatever you did, I cannot believe you deserve to be locked away in an abbey. It would be a terrible waste.” ‘ Ian and Lily shared a look; then they both laughed. Ian wondered what reason Llywelyn had given Siwardson for sending Lily to the convent. Whatever the reason, it obviously hadn’t mattered to him.

“Were you taking me to Saint Winifred’s?” Ian could feel Lily shaking again, but he didn’t think it was from the cold. It was probably from laughter, or disbelief.

Siwardson nodded. ““Tis a damned shame to lock away a beautiful woman like that,” he said, clearly angry.

“It would be an outrage.”

“I thank you for saving me from that fate. But if Ian hadn’t arrived and fought you, where would you have brought me?”

“I hadn’t really decided. Probably to my father’s home in the North Lands.” His face creased into a smile again.

“But I knew the Dragon would find us before then.”

“How could you know that?”

He shrugged again.

“I just knew.” He rose and searched through his pack, then returned with food. They accepted it with thanks.

He did not join them.

“What did you do, Lily, to anger Llywelyn?” he asked.

“It must have been something terrible.”

“She angered him by escaping the abbey,” Ian said.

“You’d been there before?” he asked, surprise coloring his voice.

“I lived there all my life.”

“Then why—?”

“I have only myself to blame for everything that’s happened,” Lily said.

“I came to Dolwyddelan in search of answers, answers I believed only Llywelyn could supply.

But he didn’t want to tell me. He didn’t want me, or anyone else, to know.”

“We’ve spoiled a scheme he’s nurtured for almost twenty years,” Ian added.

“He’ll not forgive us–especially me—for that.”

Siwardson appeared more confused than before, but Ian didn’t intend to tell him anything further at this point. He still wasn’t certain he could trust him, not Since he’d seen the man behind the mask of humor.

“May we stay here by your fire for the night?” he asked.

“Of course. You are welcome.”

Ian noticed that Siwardson held his dagger in his hands.

He was toying with the weapon. Ian thought the man looked nervous. It must be a trick of the light, he decided.

Siwardson didn’t strike him as the type of man to become nervous about anything.

“My father will be enraged when he hears that I have angered Llywelyn,” he said, staring at his knife.

“He wanted to set up a trade route with the Welsh very badly. I’m sure that will be impossible now.” He finally looked up and met Ian’s gaze.

“I wish to join your household, Dragon. If you will allow me to.”

“Why?” Could Llywelyn have sent Siwardson as a spy? Everything he said might be true, but how did he know the Viking had really fought men who were after him? It might be a lie, and this might be a trap.

Still, the man was a bold fighter. If he was loyal, it would be an asset to have him on their side.

“You are a warrior,” Siwardson said.

“I respect that, and I admire your courage. Few men would be willing to risk what they already have to do what is right. And it is a fine thing to go into battle at a warrior’s side.” His mouth quirked up into a smile, different from his usual mirth.

“Besides, I like your sense of humor.”

“I will think on it,” Ian told him. He didn’t need to decide tonight. He would have been vigilant, staying here with Lily, even if he knew he could trust Siwardson.

There would be plenty of time to ponder it, while Lily slept.

Despite her protests, Ian carried Lily to a place along the wall and lay between her and the entrance to the cave.

His sword within easy reach, he kept watch over her.

Sometime during the night, Swen rose and left the cave.

Ian feigned sleep until the other man left, then followed him outside.

It seemed he’d only gone to answer nature’s call. Ian stayed far enough away to give him privacy, but he refused to simply accept what he thought to be true and go back into the cave.

Siwardson came up beside him.

“I thought you were awake,” he said quietly.

Ian scanned the trees surrounding them, although it was virtually impossible to see far. The rain had died down to a drizzle, but once again fog shrouded the land.

The flesh on the back of Ian’s neck tingled.

“Something’s not right here,” he murmured. He tightened his grip on his sword.

Siwardson looked back the way he’d just come, his face uneasy.

“I went to check on the men I left out there. Two more have died—the others were sleeping. I feel it, too–like someone is out there. And it’s not those men.”

A rustling in the bushes startled them both, and they leaped forward, until a rabbit came bounding out of the trees.

“Jesu,” Ian snarled, heart thundering in his chest.

“Amen,” Siwardson agreed.

Suddenly there was movement and noise everywhere.

Two men jumped from the overhang above the cave, while an unknown number swarmed from the trees and headed for them, weapons flying.

“The fire!” Ian cried, whirling to douse the flames. The light shone like a beacon in the darkness, marking where they stood as clearly as any banner in baffle.

Siwardson laid about him with his sword and knife, kicking and, dodging and laughing like a lunatic. Ian stomped out the blaze, sending sparks flying into the air and singeing his clothes in the process.

In the last flare of light, he spied Lily, crouched in the back of the cave, both hands wrapped about the hilt of Dai’s sword. Her hair swirled all around her, giving her the look of an avenging angel in the dying light.

He kicked dirt over the last embers, plunging them into darkness.

He couldn’t worry about her now, he told himself as he jumped into the fray. He and Siwardson would survive, and so would Lily.

But to ensure that, he needed to keep his mind upon his work.

A glorious surge of battle lust roared through Ian’s veins, lending him the strength and agility he needed to vanquish these foes. They had the advantage of numbers, plus the element of surprise in the dark, but he and the Viking were clearly the superior fighters.

The darkness sharpened his senses so that he felt where his opponent would be, heard the sounds of his breathing.

Instinct took over.

He wound up back-to-back with Siwardson as they finished off what seemed to be the last two attackers. Afterward, they leaned against each other for a moment, catching their breath.

Ian realized he heard nothing from the cave.

“Lily?”

he called. She didn’t answer. He headed for the cave, while Siwardson quickly stirred up the embers. There was rd enough spark left to kindle a stick. He didn’t wait for the light; with the other man trailing behind him with the torch, he turned to where he’d left Lily.

He found her slumped over a body. He grabbed the torch from Siwardson and shoved the end of the stick into the ground. Then, grasping her about the shoulders, he lifted her away from the corpse.

Blood covered the front of her gown and dripped from her hands, but she appeared unharmed.

“I killed him!”

she sobbed, holding her hands out before her, horror in her eyes as she stared at them.

She had pierced the man straight through the chest with Dai’s sword. He was amazed she’d been able to drive the heavy weapon with such force; the blade had passed straight through.

Siwardson joined them.

“Good work, milady,” he said cheerfully as he surveyed the scene.

She snarled and reached for him with her bloody hands.

“I killed a man. You call that good work?”

He evaded her grasp.

“Aye. Otherwise, ‘twould be your bloody corpse lying here. Which would you prefer?” he asked pointedly.

She met his gaze for a moment, then lowered hers to her hands. Picking up the hem of her gown, where the blood hadn’t reached, she began to wipe her hands.

“Are you hurt?” Ian asked. He felt shaken, looking at the body and Lily and thinking of how it might have turned out. He sat back against the wall, suddenly grateful for the support.

“No.

“Twas just the one.” She looked up from her skirts.

“And you?”

Swen grabbed Lily’s victim by the heels and dragged him out of the cave, then returned with Dai’s sword, wiping the blade clean on a scrap of material.

“The Dragon is as skilled in battle as I had heard. I wish there had been light, so that I might have seen him better.”

Ian snorted.

“You were busy enough yourself. If you’d stopped to watch me, we’d be laying out your body come morning.” Ian’s words sank into Lily’s still-stunned brain. He could have been killed—4hey all could have. It amazed her that they had survived, while apparently none of the others had. It was a testament to the skill of both men—and perhaps herself, she thought with a swift glance at the puddle of blood in the dirt.

How had they known, she wondered? She hadn’t suspected an attack in the night, during a storm. And she hadn’t heard a thing until the battle began.

She knew that the sound her attacker had made as the sword blade slid into his body would haunt her dreams.

And even though she was glad she’d survived, still it was no easy thing to take someone’s life.

In truth, taking a life was easy; ‘twas living with what she had done that would prove the most difficult.

Now that the battle was over, she felt drained, exhausted.

Her entire body ached and throbbed with pain.

She’d been through so much in the past weeks, both physically and emotionally, that she couldn’t think clearly.

But she didn’t regret a moment of it. She shook her head. Not so long ago, she’d believed that she would need to travel to foreign lands to find adventure.

God help her, ‘twas all she could do to survive fight here at home.

At first light, Ian roused Lily from sleep with a steamy kiss.

“Come with me, wife. I’ve a gift for you.”

Curious, she dragged her aching body off the ground and tried to stand. But her legs refused to cooperate, and she slumped against ian, groaning.

“No matter,” he said as he swept her into his arms and carried her from the cave.

“Your weight’s not like to cripple me.”

She poked him in the fibs, and he swooped his arms as if to drop her. Smiling, she clung to his broad shoulders and kissed his stubble’ covered cheek.

The sun shone down on them as brightly as if yesterday’s storm were nothing more than a dream. Ian carried her away from the cave and into the trees, which had been washed clean by the rain. The air smelled fresh, scented with pine.

Although morning still lent a bite to the air, it wasn’t unpleasant.

They broke through the trees into a small glade. A waterfall splashed down onto moss-covered rocks, and mist rose from the surface of the pool.

It looked to be a place of magic, set here among the craggy hills.

Ian lowered her to her feet next to the pool.

“Would you like to bathe?” he asked with a glance at her bloodstained clothes.

She found the thought appealing, though the water was bound to be cold as ice. Still, it wouldn’t do to arrive at her sister’s gates in her present state. There was little enough she could do about her clothes, but at least she would be clean.

She bent and trailed her fingers in the pool, gasping in surprise at the warmth of the water, Ian watched her, clearly enjoying her reaction.

“Now what do you think of your gift?” he asked, grinning.

“It’s wonderful,” she said, grinning.

“I only wish I had a gift for you.”

His fingers toyed with the laces of her gown.

“You do.”

She looked at him questioningly.

He leaned down and captured her lips in the softest of kisses.

“You.”

“What if Swen should come while we’re here?” she asked, eyeing the pool longingly now. She could already imagine the warm, soothing water caressing her aching body—and Ian’s hard, callused hands working their magic upon her, as well.

“He’s already been here. He found it yesterday, when he was looking for a place to put Llyweiyn’s men. He’s agreed to stand guard, lest more fools come in search of us.” He knelt and slipped off her shoes.

“No one will see us here,” he assured her as he removed the rest of her clothes.

Still uncomfortable about Ian seeing her nude, Lily sank into the pool’s warm embrace and watched him disrobe.

Sunlight highlighted the muscular planes and whipcord leanness of his body. The warmth she felt now had little to do with the water, and everything to do with her husband.

He joined her, scrubbing playfully at her hands, then urged her to stand in the waist-deep water while he moved his ministrations to the rest of body. In turn, she ran her hands over him in a teasing foray. She captured his swollen shaft beneath the water, cupping him in her hands with a boldness that surprised her.

His tongue darted out to capture the stray droplets scattered over her shoulders, then followed the water’s path down over the curves of her breasts. Never ceasing her own caresses, she used her free hand to press his head to her bosom as he suckled her aching nipples.