The Forest Lord (32 page)

When Fane wanted, they wanted with everything in their beings and would stop at nothing to obtain it. He was no different, whatever name he gave himself. Fane power was that of enchantment and the primal rhythms of the world; mortal power was the ability to fascinate the Fane into recklessness and, yes, even savagery.

The savagery to make a woman love, get her with child, and then abandon her, even though he no longer hated her or sought revenge. He did not have the excuse of such motives.

His soul was Fane: self-contempt was foreign to his nature. He had told himself that leaving
Eden with a new child to replace Donal was a mercy and a kindness.

But in his time with
Eden, he had begun to feel with increasingly human emotions. He had begun to hate himself even as he smiled at
Eden and prepared to complete his seduction.

"What do you fear,
Eden?" he asked. "There are no longer any wolves or bears or dragons in
England."

"I… I do not know." She attempted a smile. "It is very foolish of me."

He cradled her chin in his hand. "You are safe with me."

But not
from
me
.
"No harm will ever come to you in the wood, or on this land."

"You speak as if you owned Hartsmere, though it has been in my family for generations. Why am I not surprised?"

"Because you have begun to know me, Eden."
He took her hand again. "Come."

As if to compensate for her former hesitation,
Eden let go of his hand and marched up the fell ahead of him. He caught up in time to help her over the escarpment that separated pasture from wilder ground. Then they were at the edge of the wood.

"Must we?" she asked.

He reached out with his thoughts and called to the birds: pipit and redstart, blackbird and goldfinch, wagtail and warbler, commanding songs to soothe a mortal's fears. From near and far, meadow and forest, mere and fell, the wild music rose in a chorus as magical as it was chaotic.

Eden
looked up into the trees. Bursts of bright color flashed among the leaves as birds hopped from branch to branch.

"So many!" she exclaimed. "Where did they come from?"

"This is their home. They are welcoming you to it."

"How generous of them," she said with a laugh. "Do you hear them speak as Donal does?"

The birds fell silent. Her question hung between them, unanswered.
Eden stared at him, the beginning of comprehension in her eyes.

"Is that it?" she whispered. "You spoke to the birds. You understand Donal because you… can do what he does." She shook her head.
"Of course.
The horses—the way you handled Atlas and Copper. You and my son are alike!"

If he denied it, she might never trust him again, but if he told her too much, she would guess the truth before he was ready.

"I am like him," he admitted. "We share some of the same gifts."

She released a long breath and gazed at the ground beneath her feet. "It explains so much. Why Donal liked you instantly, and why you have… cared for him." She looked up. "That is why you wish to protect him."

"And why I know what he will face in the world of men."

"There is no other world."

"Look around you, Eden. This is not man's realm."

"And you would have him live in the woods like a
red
Indian?"

"I wish him be happy, as you do."

"By denying him his birthright?"

"His birthright as a bastard and misfit?"

Cold fury blazed in her face. "Never speak so of my son."

"
Eden." He enfolded her fist in his hands. "If you will not see the wonders of Donal's world, you cannot help him. Let me show you."

She searched his eyes. The muscles in her face and body relaxed. A bird sang tentatively, followed by another, and a third.

"Very well," she said, offering her hand. "Show me."

He led her into the forest, and all the discomfort he felt in man's world dropped away like a stag's antlers in spring. He paused, as always, to touch each of the Old Ones, the trees that had stood undisturbed for so many mortal years.

He brought
Eden to one of the greatest, a massive wych elm
who
stood near enough the edge of the wood to look down over the lesser trees upon the dale below.

"This is one of the queens of the forest," he said, stroking the bark with affection. "She has seen many things men cannot dream of."

"Do you speak to trees as well?"

Though she made a jest of the question, Hartley saw the wariness in her eyes. He took her hand and laid it, palm down, upon the lady's trunk.

"She speaks to you, Eden. The life of the earth is in her veins, just as it is in yours if you will but listen for it."

She closed her eyes, and the childlike tilt of her head, her willingness to try in spite of her fear and disbelief, sent a bolt through him that was more than esteem or desire or obsession or any of the things he had felt in her presence. Her very spirit seemed to pour into the Lady Elm and flow into his body, purified and vitally precious, like sap rising in spring. So it would be, a thousand times more potent, when he joined with her.

Eden
's face lit with amazement. "I think… I think I hear her," she said. She ran her hands over the trunk, reaching, until her fingers nearly touched his. She pressed her cheek to the bark with a sigh.

That was when she felt what he had. Her eyes snapped open, and she bolted away from the lady as if she had been stung. She rubbed her hands on her skirt, over and over again, until she noticed him watching. She tossed her head and smiled defiantly.

"Have you any other talking trees to show me," she asked, "or perhaps a shrub that quotes Byron?"

"Perhaps," he said. "Come and find out." He took her hand to lead her away, and the bond the tree had forged between them sparked anew. But
Eden did not try to break free. She gazed at him, her lips slightly parted, while a dove alighted in the branches over her head and cooed its approval.

He could have taken her there, under the nurturing arms of the lady. But there was a better place, where his magic was strongest and that of men—of
Eden—held little sway.

He led her deeper into the wood. In a small clearing lay a badger's sett, a mound of earth around a tunnel entrance. The sleepy sow climbed out to greet him, followed by her four bickering cubs.
Eden knelt behind
a yellow
-flowered gorse and watched with obvious delight as the clumsy youngsters tumbled fearlessly over each other and their parent.

A few yards away, in a thicket of hawthorn, a vixen and her cubs played with the same careless joy. The vixen paused in her game and sat on her haunches, barking once at
Eden as if to convey a secret message. Then she and her offspring vanished into the undergrowth with a final salute of their white tipped brushes.

"I do not think I shall ask you what she said,"
Eden remarked.

"She greeted you as a fellow female and warned you to keep a wary eye on your male, for they are not to be trusted."

"She is a most percipient creature indeed." But the look she cast him was anything but guarded. Already the things he had revealed to her had opened her heart and loosened the bonds of her world's expectations.

"Even the hedgehog finds his mate when the time is right," he said as the snuffling, bristly little male poked his head from his nest of leaves in the undergrowth. "It is fortunate that he seeks a hedgehog wife, for only another like him would find him handsome."

Eden
laughed, and Hartley took unexpected pleasure in her amusement. "I think he is adorable," she said. "I would love to take him home to Donal."

"You would destroy him."

Her eyes widened at his harsh tone.
Fool. Do not frighten her away now
.

"Eden," he said gently, "I show you all this so that you will know why it must be protected and saved from men who would enter and kill, or cut down the trees that shelter so much life.
So few of these places remain.
They are as rare as Donal, and he is a part of this forest, as much as he is a part of you."

She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. "Why does this forest mean so much to you?" she asked. "Did you lie to me when you said that you were not from this parish?"

"I have known of this wood for many years."

"And you wish to make sure that I protect it… from—"

"Men such as your father."

Her head lifted. "Did you know Lord Bradwell?"

"I have heard of him." He was uncomfortably aware that a look of suspicion had come into her eyes. She moved a step away.

"Were you in the dale five or six years ago?"

She wouldn't have asked that question if she had not begun to make certain connections in her mind and heart: connections between Cornelius, a certain incident at a border inn, and Hartley Shaw. She had not acknowledged them… yet. But he must tread carefully.

"Yes," he said. "I passed this way, and that was how I came to find this forest and to recognize its rarity. It is a treasure,
Eden. Your treasure, if you will accept it."

"It is not yours to give, is it?" she whispered.

"But you have the means to protect it. Will you,
Eden? No matter what happens between us?"

She turned her back to him. "I shall never allow any creature at Hartsmere to be harmed in any way. Not even so much as a mouse."

"Do you promise that,
Eden?"

"Do you think, because you can speak to birds and animals, that no one else is capable of kindness toward them?"

"I think that men are often blind."

"Are you not curing my blindness?"

Your blindness will end only when I reveal myself
. "The gift of seeing clearly brings a price."

"There is always a price, isn't there?" She looked back at him. "If you were here five years ago… is that how you deduced that I am Donal's mother? You knew of my—" She shook her head. "I should be grateful that you are far more astute than most
who
live here."

He moved to her side and took her hand. "I told you that your secret is safe with me. Believe it,
Eden."

She sighed and nodded. Once more he led her closer to the heart of his realm. He found the nuthatch's nest in a tree hollow, occupied by four gape-mouthed fledglings.

"How lovely they are,"
Eden said softly.

"The nuthatch has one mate in his life," he said. "He will never leave her for another. Can men say as much?"

She glanced away. "It is not always possible. Birds do not have the obligations of people."

"And their lives are so short. Every moment is precious. Yet they live each one without regret."

"Is that how you think we should live?
Without regret?"

"Yes.
For as long a time as we have."

Something unspoken passed between them, just as it had done at the Lady Elm. Hartley held out his hand, offering and asking for much more than a touch.

The entire forest fell silent. It waited, as he did, for her decision. Even the sun seemed to pause in its journey, poised on the peak of the highest western fell and casting the world in a red gold glow.

Slowly, never taking her gaze from his, she gave him her hand. The desire he had felt constantly in her presence broke free of its restraints. He could not stop it from spilling over.

Her eyes widened. "Oh," she murmured.

He pulled her close and kissed her. His need was too potent to be satisfied by a single kiss, but it was all he dared take.

It was not enough for
Eden. As he withdrew, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him in return.

The Fane
race were
expert in the ways of pleasure, if not of love, and they practiced it often in their own land. Hartley had been different, spending years alone in his wood, returning less and less to Tir-na-nog. But the sensual talents bestowed by his Fane birth were present in abundance.

As they were in
Eden, human though she was.
All her reluctance was gone. Her kiss was fire in the cool of the evening; she seduced him with lips as sweet as the mead of

Tir-na-nog.
Soon he would drive all recollection of other lovers from
Eden's heart and body. He would love her so well that she would carry the memory of this night forever.