Wild Is My Love (9 page)

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Authors: Janelle Taylor

BOOK: Wild Is My Love
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The same was true for Princess Alysa, who treated her just as badly, as if she were of a lower class. That was no longer true, thanks to her mother’s clever marriage to Prince Alric. She was a royal princess, even though Alysa was the heir to the Crown and Throne. Kyra wondered maliciously what would happen to the Crown and Throne if Alysa met with an untimely end. As long as Alric lived, Isobail would rule in his stead, no doubt the reason why her mother took such pains to keep the sickly ruler alive. Craving the power her mother wielded, Kyra often dreamed of snatching them from Isobail’s grasp. If only Isobail did not have Earnon on her side….

Ever since his arrival, everything had been going Isobail’s way, including Prince Alric’s curious illness. Soon, with Earnon at her side, Isobail would control all of Damnonia. Kyra realized her decision to spy on that intimidating man had been a smart one. With persistence, she could uncover all she needed to know, and then would make things go her way for a change.

Her mother’s door opened and Guinn peeked in both directions before sneaking back to his own chamber.
Kyra smiled devilishly, as it would be dawn soon and the bard had lingered too long for innocent reasons.

Shortly after dawn Alysa mounted Calliope and took an invigorating ride, planning to return to the castle before the unknown warrior could arrive to speak with her father. Although Prince Alric saw few visitors these days, Alysa did not doubt that the stranger would be granted entry to her father’s chamber. Many times last night she had awakened after dreaming of the young man, knowing she had to see him again. If only he could help save her father’s land. She pushed aside memories of last night’s painful scene with her father and her unsettling suspicions and gave her steed his head. As if physically joined, they raced joyfully toward the village ten miles northeast of the castle.

Her land was greatly diverse: sheltered valleys and rolling hills where cattle and sheep roamed; stonewalled or hedged areas which enclosed fields; towering cliffs and intimate coves where gray granite and dark serpentine rock yielded wild beauty; misty moors which called softly and fragrantly to lovers; fields of golden gorse which implied that the glorious sun was imprisoned within; castles where- ivy-covered walls cloaked stone with lush green; jagged coasts which often lured boats into peril; peaceful streams and woods which beckoned to wildlife, moss, and lichen; and assorted estuaries where a river’s current battled the ocean’s tide. Her land was also one of numerous scents: delicate primrose, sweet narcissus, laughing daffodils, gay fuchsia, and many more.

Today the sky foretold a beautiful day, and her surroundings were peaceful. Enjoying his mistress’s exhilaration, Calliope increased his stirring pace, galloping blithely through the flower-filled meadow. Alysa savored the feel of the fresh air rushing through her hair and
over her skin as the fragrances of a new morn delighted her nose. Nearing the treeline between the castle and village, she tugged gently on Calliope’s reins to halt him, quickly dismounted, then allowed him to walk to cool his warm body.

Noises suddenly filled her ears, which caused her blood to run cold: a dawn attack on the village, a brazen one so close to Malvern Castle. She tied Calliope’s reins to a bush and commanded him to stay quiet while she slipped from tree to tree to get a view of the daring raid. She hoped to espy the raiders and expose their identities to the castle knights.

Gingerly she made her way forward, but remained hidden from view. Clad in her green garments, she knew she could blend into the forest and go unseen unless one of the raiders came in her direction. She lay on the damp earth and carefully pushed aside the underbrush. The sight that greeted her repulsed her: dead peasants lay here and there, thatched roofs were aflame on several huts, children were crying and screaming, animals were racing about wildly in terror, women were being raped or captured, and raiders were laughing as they delighted in their destruction. Quickly she covered her mouth to suppress a scream. Her eyes enlarged as they helplessly witnessed the cruelty before them, and she realized she had to ride for help.

Without warning she was flipped to her back and imprisoned beneath a strong masculine body. Her mouth was covered by a large hand, preventing a shriek of surprise or a scream for help. She struggled frantically until a familiar voice whispered in her ear, “Lie still and quiet, m’lady, or we will be seen.”

Alysa’s eyes gaped into the face of the man who had filled her dreams all night, Gavin Hawk. His dark blond hair was tousled and damp, and forest trash peeked from its locks in several places. His green eyes were gentle, and her fear vanished.

Gavin leaned forward and whispered, “There is nothing we can do to help them, m’lady. If we try, we will join their fates. When the raiders leave, I will enter your village to tend those injured while you ride to the castle for help.”

The girl’s unexpected appearance had changed Gavin’s plans, which had been to follow the raiders to their camp. He assumed this was her village and that she had been spared its brutal fate because she had been walking in the forest, perhaps to gather wood or herbs. He could not leave her alone, fearing she would endanger herself by racing to her people’s aid. But he wanted not just to protect her, but hold her, kiss her, make love, to her, savor her. Never had he been obsessed by a woman, but he had been unable to get her out of his mind since meeting her. She had filled his dreams all night, and they had been wonderful dreams which he craved in reality. She was so consuming that he had trouble keeping his mind on the danger nearby, and found his distraction upsetting.

Alysa grimaced in anguish as more screams reached them. Gavin’s embrace tightened comfortingly around her and he hid her face against his chest. “I am sorry, m’lady, but I am helpless alone,” he murmured against her fragrant hair. When she looked up at him with misty sea-blue eyes, he bent forward to kiss away her tears.

Witnessing the bloody raid so soon after her tormenting confrontation with her father, Alysa began to weep softly from the pent-up distress. The warrior hugged her more tightly against his strong body, and she welcomed his compassion. Her arms slipped around his waist and she pressed herself against him. His lips pressed light and comforting kisses over her face, until their lips touched and fused as if by chance, and by design. Hungrily and almost desperately their mouths locked, demanding, seeking, taking, and yielding.

The damp coolness of the ground did nothing to steal the heat building rapidly within Alysa’s body and spreading excessive warmth to Gavin’s. She tingled and trembled, and Gavin did the same. Greedily they feasted on each other’s mouths and clung to each other, as if fearing to halt this wild madness. Lost in the splendor of unleashed passion, their kisses became more urgent and demanding, their caresses bolder. Neither thought about the consequences of their behavior nor recalled they were strangers. Just as neither knew nor cared why the other had this stimulating effect, each merely accepted it and savored it as the perils beyond them lessened.

Surprisingly, it was as if both heads cleared at once, and they ceased their wanton actions. Even so, neither seemed embarrassed by their loss of restraint. They stared into each other’s smoldering gazes, gazes that said, “I want you and I need you, and it is sheer torment not to have you.” They were breathless and flushed, and their arms refused to release each other. Parted lips silently begged to be reunited. With desire blazing dangerously between them, their inflamed bodies yearned to complete the wild journey they had begun. Longing filled both, as did the knowledge that this was not the time or place to continue exploring such irresistible feelings. Yet neither spoke nor moved again, until the loud shouting of merciless raiders and the pounding of retreating hooves filled their ears and broke the magical spell that had enthralled them.

“Go, m’lady, and return with help quickly,” he ordered in a husky voice. “I will see to your people,” he promised.

Gavin stood, then pulled Alysa to her feet. For the first time she noticed how differently he was dressed this morning. He was wearing a dark green tunic which ended just above his knees, under which were green trousers which were tucked inside ankle-high boots. A
multicolored band edged the neckline, short sleeves, waist, and hem of his garment. Resting over his hips was a wide leather belt which held two weapons: a large knife, and a sword in artistically carved sheaths. A matching cloak had been tossed aside when he had found her.

Absently she straightened her own simple garment and studied him. “You may have saved my life, Gavin, and I will be grateful forever. Do what you can for them. I will hurry.” Alysa turned and ran into the forest. She knew he was a brave man, not a foolish one. It would have been certain death for him to ride into the village and challenge so many raiders. How strange to be so close to death and destruction yet feel so safe. But now, she told herself, she must concentrate on seeking help.

Gavin rubbed his rough jawline in thoughtful silence. He had missed his chance to follow the band and discover its location and size, unless he could track them later; which he doubted, if they were smart. He gathered his cloak, threw it around his shoulders, and fastened it. Glancing toward the ravaged village, his green gaze narrowed and his forehead wrinkled in fury as it observed the wanton slaughter. There was only one reason to be happy this morning: he had found that bewitching girl again. Suddenly he realized he still did not know her name!

Alysa hurriedly mounted Calliope and spurred him into a swift gallop toward the castle. She was amazed to see knights rapidly heading in her direction, and before them were riding Isobail and Phelan, Captain of the Guard. She kneed Calliope to speed to join them, yet instinctively sensed they were heading for the village. Evidently one of the peasants had reached the castle and summoned help.

Isobail halted the knights when they reached Alysa. She eyed the breathless young princess oddly. “What are you doing out this early, Alysa?” she demanded angrily “Dangers abound everywhere.”

Alysa promptly explained her morning ride and the trouble in the village. “I was coming for help,” she finished, annoyed with herself for feeling cowed by the haughty regent.

“We know there is an attack on the village. You delay our help. Return to the castle.”

Alysa flushed, and bristled at the woman’s behavior toward her in front of the knights. Isobail had no right to speak to her or to treat her so badly! “I will return with you,” Alysa replied. “Many are wounded and will need help.”

“What help can a young girl be to them?” Isobail scoffed. “Do as I command. I am the ruler, not you. Teague,” she called, “escort Princess Alysa home safely. A bloody village is no place for a child.”

Alysa watched in astonishment as Isobail rode off with her band of knights, leaving her with Teague, Lord Orin’s son. Alysa twisted in her saddle and watched the riders until they vanished, her teeth clenched as her mind filled with outrage. She wanted to defy Isobail’s orders, but if she disobeyed, it would give Isobail the authority to punish her. And after last night, she knew her father would not object. To him, Isobail was perfect; she was his eyes, ears, and hands while he was ill.

She was furious because she knew she could be of help to those unfortunate people, people whom she would rule one day; and because she would not get to see the warrior again. She sighed heavily and turned to meet Teague’s sympathetic gaze. “Sometimes—” she began, then stopped. It was not proper to malign her stepparent before others, even a friend.

The red-haired twenty-year-old squire smiled and remarked, “I understand, Princess Alysa. Do not distress
yourself. She is right, perhaps there is still danger in the village. You must be protected; you will be our ruler one day.”

“If such is true, Teague, then why is it safe for our present ruler to confront such peril?” she reasoned. “I am no weakling, and I know how to fight. Piaras taught me. How did she know about the attack?”

Teague’s blue eyes exposed his skepticism as he said, “Earnon had a dream. He awoke the princess and warned her. She summoned the guard, and we were on our way to learn if Earnon’s premonition was right. Was the raid a bad one?”

“It was terrible. They killed and burned as if it were fun, Teague. They laughed and joked while cutting the life from innocent, unarmed men. I could not believe such horror. They must be punished. Surely someone can learn where they hide and why they are doing such wicked things.”

“They are black-hearted brigands, Your Highness; they need no other reason but their greed and wickedness.”

“But they raid so boldly, Teague, as if it were a game. Something terrible is amiss in our land. These raids are clever and well-planned, then they vanish like mist until the next one. I fear a sinister mind is behind them.”

Teague eyed the young princess and mused on her words. His father had voiced that same opinion the last time he went home. “Even if such is true, Your Highness, we will find a way to defeat them.”

“How so, Teague, when Earnon sees only what and when he wishes to see?” she asked pointedly. “I do not trust him,” she added bluntly. “The same is true of Sheriff Trahern. How can it be that no raider has been captured and no stolen possession recovered? It seems as if our side is being misled intentionally. Someone must be helping the raiders and hiding them.”

“You must not say such things aloud, Your Highness,”
he warned. “Many claim Earnon has ears in the wind and eyes in the sky. If his powers are true, he could harm you for such insults and charges.”

“I am not afraid of Earnon, or Isobail,” she said, her anger simmering. “But I will be careful. Come, we will ride for home. Perhaps you can sneak a visit with Thisbe before Isobail returns. No doubt Isobail would delight in marrying the two of you off to others if she learned of your love.”

Teague’s cheeks grew rosy at the mention of Sir Piaras’s daughter. He had loved Thisbe for a long time and eagerly awaited the day he was knighted so he could ask for her hand in marriage from Prince Alric. He grinned and nodded approval.

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