Surrender (8 page)

"There's talk about a man with black hair and
eyes hard as granite sniffing around the village. One day he was
there, the next he was riding hard toward the English border like a
hound with a dripping prick chasing his bitch." Colyne gave his
horse a slap on the rump as warning to stand still before he leaped
into the saddle.

"Ye dinna look so good, Graemme," Brian said
as he eyed him. "Do ye not wish to stay abed whilst we check the
other villages?"

"Well, piss and shite. Nor would ye look hale
if ye had been shitting yer brains out all day. We will ride out as
planned."

Graemme wiped sweat off his forehead and
swallowed back bile surging to his throat.

Lady Joneta called to him. "Sir Graemme.
Hold, if you please."

She hurried down the path from a small
building built against the outer wall. She was walking carefully,
balancing a small jug whilst keeping her skirts from sweeping the
ground. And Squat's leavings.

"I prepared a potion to soothe your, er,
aches. By morning, you should feel your normal self." Her eyes
studied him. "'Tis naught but boiled barley water with a bit of
savory for you to drink."

"What will this do? 'Tis not the same as ye
gave me earlier."

"It will soothe your stomach and, um, quiet
your gut. Dinna eat food this day," she reached in her pocket and
took a cloth bag tied with string and handed it to him. "If you
hunger, boil this barley to make gruel."

He nodded and fastened the items in his
saddle pouch. Over the top of his saddle, he spied Squat as he
eased himself to lie down in the shade of a tree. "Do ye think
mayhap ye could make something for the poor beastie?"

She smiled up and him. "Aye. I await its
cooling. He is much better than he was." She tilted her head and
studied Graemme's face. "Dinna think our Elyne is always as she was
this past day. Things were not as calm as they are now. She's had
much to be afeard of."

His eyes widened. What was it like when there
was turmoil?

"Thank, ye, Lady." He looked at her and
debated. "If ye would have yer niece happily wed, make sure she
keeps from me this day."

He bowed and turned to leap onto his saddle.
He took a deep breath of air, thankful he would be gone from Raptor
Castle for the day.

o0o

"The stable boys said Sir Graemme and his men
are searching through the villages for a woman with hair the color
of wheat. He must be the man Muriele was afeard would find her."
Ada finished brushing Elyne's hair, for her mistress had required
an early bath after attending to bathing Squat. He would let no one
else near him but her.

Elyne nibbled at her lip and made up her
mind. "Aye. I will go to Domnall."

"Not yer father?"

"Nay. Father is too pleased with Sir Graemme
to think of anything which would put a halt to our wedding." She
drew her finger over her lips where she had nibbled them a bit
hard. "Domnall will send a messenger to warn Muriele to deny any
visitors."

Elyne whirled and ran from the room. She
didn't stop until she found Domnall atop the rear barbican talking
to the sentries there. He came over as soon as she entered the wall
walk.

"What is it, lass? You look like the ghostly
crone chased you up the stairway." His eyes twinkled down at
her.

"Not ye too, Domnall," Elyne said with a
scowl.

"What else sent you in such haste?"

Elyne told him all she had learned from Ada
and was grateful to see his face turn as worried as her own.

"Aye. Ranald would be furious if we did not
do all we can to keep Muriele safe. I will send a messenger to the
convent at once. It may be unneeded. Your brother posted a man to
pose as gardener there. He will protect her once he is warned Sir
Graemme may appear." He turned and clattered down the stone steps
and disappeared through the gateway to the middle bailey.

Elyne breathed a sigh of relief. The
messenger had a full day's start ahead of Sir Graemme. But would
one day be enough?

Mayhap if Graemme was too tired at first
light, he would delay his leaving until well after the noon hour?
She took a deep breath and hurried back to Ada. They both watched
Domnall's messenger riding out the massive double doors of the
stable, and by the time he hit the drawbridge, his horse was in a
full gallop.

Elyne kept watch from the northwest tower
well into the day. It was past dusk when Sir Graemme and his two
men emerged from the woodland path and rode across the cleared area
to the drawbridge. As soon as they clattered into the courtyard,
the gatekeeper ordered the bridge up, the portcullis down and the
gates secured for the night.

She sighed with relief. If Sir Graemme was
here, he could not be out hunting down her friend as a wolf does
after a fine doe. She hurried back to her bedchamber and prepared
for the night. Ada waited with hot water and, after Elyne refreshed
her body, Ada rubbed perfumed oils over her skin.

"Did the cooks prepare the special dishes for
Sir Graemme?"

"Aye. Sir Graemme will have beef wrapped in a
spicy pastry, figs stuffed with cinnamon, sparrow's eggs, clams
boiled in ale, turnips steamed with dill and basil and red wine
spiced with rosemary, sage and rue." Ada shook her head and
grinned.

"Mother's recipes listed each as a stimulant
for the male shaft. I fear after the porridge this morn, he will be
lacking strength, uh, to be properly, um..."

Ada giggled. She held up her hand with her
middle finger drooping halfway down. "Ye mean his prick may not
spring to life?" Her finger sprang outright.

"For truth."

"If ye are shy with me, how do ye think to
seduce the man? Are ye certain ye should do this, lass?"

"What difference now or two months from now?
'Tis still the same, is it not? We are near as legally joined as if
Father Martin was here."

She gulped, for though she knew what happened
between a man and a woman, she had expected it to be with someone
who excited her. Someone who made her heart beat faster. One who
made her flushed and anxious for him to take her.

"Catalin and Letia have said the best part of
being wed is bed sport. My friends would not tell me an untruth.
They said the worst is answering to another man."

"Aye. 'Tis glad I am to do as I please." Ada
grinned at her. "The freedom makes up for being a servant. If I
want to swive with a man, I have but to whisper where I spread my
pallet and it is filled."

"It isna fair. Men always rule us. My father,
my brothers, uncles. A husband is the final straw. Men have freedom
from the time their voices change and their first straggly whiskers
appear."

"Aye, but they follow their commander's
orders."

"This is different. Look how Sir Graemme
orders me about." She deepened her voice and strutted around the
room. "Vow ye will do this. Vow ye will not do that. Dinna dare
think on being somewhere else in two months. Bah! At least this one
night, I will have control."

Once Graemme reached his bedchamber, he near
tore off his clothing in his eagerness to lower himself into
soothing hot water. He had meant to bathe at the well, but after
the happenings there last eve, he thought better of it. Who knew if
the chief had another kinswoman anxious to spy on male flesh!

One thing for certs, Raptor Castle's servants
knew how to treat a guest. He had no sooner entered the room than
men arrived with hot water and a bathing tub.

He was tired. No. More than tired. Exhausted.
Drained. But he was pleased with what he had learned this day.
Leaning his head back on the tub's rim, he bent his legs, letting
the hot water flow over his chest and stomach. He rubbed his belly,
exploring his sore muscles. The last potion Lady Joneta gave him
had worked miracles.

He glanced down, a slight smile spread his
lips, for his cock floated and bobbed like it sought to put its
head above water. His fingers rubbed lower into the wiry curls
surrounding it, then reached to explore his balls. Every inch of
his body ached, even there.

"'Tis glad I am ye are still with me," he
muttered. "The chief was too eager to nail ye to a tree. Hah!
Probably the cursed apple tree beside the well."

He patted the round stones in their sacs then
surged up in the water when someone scratched at the door. His hand
sought his sword hilt resting on a short stool beside his bath.

"Aye? Enter."

His nose recognized the exciting smell afore
the door opened more than a crack.

Two of cook's helpers entered, carrying
enough food for two men. Though the tub stood in front of the
fireplace and the table was close to the window opening, the
full-breasted woman in the lead made a curved path to it. Her black
hair bobbed when she swung her head to glance down at his bouncing
cock. It was changing noticeably in size. When she giggled, he
waggled his brows at her. The young, red-haired lass behind her
stared and licked her lips. He near reached out to take her hand
and invite her to stay.

Sanity returned.

'Twould be best not to dip his wick in his
betrothed's keep. Servants were all too ready to brag of their
conquests. Chief Broccin would chase him with his hunting knife if
he found he'd been swiving the servants after having supposedly
taken his daughter the night afore!

He shook his head at the last minute. The
girl's shoulders slumped. 'Twas unfortunate. His cockstand was
erect and eager. On their way back to the door, they couldna resist
another long look at his body glistening beneath the water.

His sigh echoed in the empty room. The bed
would have been most comfortable with the red-headed lass cuddled
to his chest and cushy curves of the taller woman curled against
his back.

The aroma of beef floated on the evening
breeze making him salivate. His belly grumbled reminding him how
empty it was. More than empty, really. 'Twas a wonder his stomach
didn't meet his backbone.

He grabbed the bathing cloth and hurriedly
soaped it until bubbles floated from it. Water surged in waves and
splashed the floor when he stood to scrub his body. After he soaped
from his head to his hips, he paid particular note to his sex. He
lifted his cock and washed the bottom side and around his ballocks
until his skin was pink. When he finished his back and hips, he sat
in the water and rinsed.

Never had he felt more cleansed. If he was
not so hungry, he would go straight to bed. Wrapping his lower half
in a large drying cloth, he padded with wet feet to the table.

Wine. Beef wrapped in something. Clams.
Turnips and asparagus. His mouth watered. He popped a sparrow's egg
into his mouth while he used his eating knife to attack the beef.
The bite of meat was near in his mouth when he hesitated. Should he
be wary?

Nay. The girl was troublesome, for truth, but
she could not be so fashious she would again tamper with his food.
He ate the beef. Not only did he eat the beef, he near ate
everything they had brought him. He burped, loud and strong, before
savoring the stuffed figs.

He sprawled back in his chair, enjoying the
cold air from the window sifting between his legs. The wine was
surprisingly good. Better than any at Clibrick. He would have to
ask where they secured it.

One thing about eating heartily—it made him
sleepy. He stretched, contented. He would make a point of going
into Northumbria when he left here in the morning, but since they'd
learned what they had today, it was all for show. Still, it would
give Magnus a head start. He grinned, thinking of his cagey
brother. They would have to ride hard afterward to overtake him
afore he reached the Highlands.

He stood and unwound the drying cloth from
his hips. He tossed it on the chair's seat, picked up his sword and
leaned it against the bed. After pulling aside the sheet, he
plopped down on the bed, arms outstretched.

Were angels to lie down on clouds, they would
feel as he did as his body settled into the down mattress.

What awakened him? He didn't twitch, didn't
move. His chest kept up his quiet, deep breathing. Um, he noted the
faint scent of heather and raised his lids 'till only a thin line
of vision showed.

Piss! Elyne had come to plague him again. Did
she think to cackle and drool, throw cinders around the room or
something else to pretend she was a wraith? At least she hadn't
striped her face with cherry juice. He waited to see what her new
mischief would be.

She hesitated in the doorway, biting her
lower lip. So. Undecided, eh? She'd best be. He'd not go lightly
with her again.

He watched as she eased the door shut and
walked so quietly her footsteps did not even whisper across the
floor. She stood beside the bed hugging her arms then rubbing them
before she started inching her smock into her hands and began to
lift it. He watched long, slender legs emerge, then the soft
material slid up over firm, gleaming thighs. It bunched now in
front of the joining of her thighs, and he found himself holding
his breath.

Waiting. Tense.

Did she plan to run screaming from the room,
claiming he had tried to rape her? Was it her intent? To get him
killed afore the nuptials?

Heavy footfalls sounded outside his door. Was
this what she awaited? His muscles readied to grab his sword and
fight his way from the keep. Interesting. She jumped and scampered
to press herself against the far wall. If the door opened, no one
standing at the entrance would see her. When the footsteps faded in
the distance, he sensed her tension ease and she returned.

No slow disrobing took place this time. She
took a deep breath and yanked her smock over her head. As a cloud
eased from covering the moon, a thin streak of moonlight crawled
with stealth through the window opening beside the head of the bed.
It crept across the distance like a lustful hand to stop at the
hair covering her maiden's place.