Read Connie Mason Online

Authors: The Black Knight

Connie Mason (20 page)

“Windhurst,” Granny mused. “Did you not say the castle was naught but an ancient hulk?”

“I exaggerated. The keep itself has withstood years of neglect tolerably well, but the outer walls and fortifications have long since crumbled into rock and mortar. I undertook repairs immediately, but time ran out before the reconstruction was finished. I received word that Waldo was riding forth soon to attack Windhurst and claim his bride.

“I realized Windhurst could not withstand a siege, and until Sir John arrived with the mercenaries, my army was sorely undermanned. They await me now in the woods near Chirk. I hope Sir John will soon arrive with the mercenaries to join them. I intend to stop Waldo’s forces before he reaches Windhurst and destroys what has been rebuilt.”

“Raven will be safe here, grandson. That
is
what you want of me, is it not?”

“Aye. Waldo does not know you are alive, much less where to find you. Should I fail to return, you will be here for her. I intend to leave a purse of money for her should she need it. Waldo need never find her if she does not want him to.”

“Is Raven your leman?” Granny asked, not mincing words.

“Granny, I—”

“Answer me, lad.”

“Aye. The decision was a mutual one. I cannot marry her, you know that. She is already married.”

“You love her,” Granny said.

Startled, Drake quickly put Granny’s supposition to rest. “Nay, I love no woman save you, Granny. Raven already has a husband. I cannot have her.”

Granny clucked. “Silly boy.”

Suddenly Granny seemed to wilt before his eyes. Her shoulders drooped and she appeared old and withered as she lifted herself from her chair with difficulty. “I am tired. We will talk tomorrow. You may sleep on the floor before the hearth. There are blankets in the chest beside the settle.”

“You are disappointed in me,” Drake said. It was more a statement than a question.

She touched his hair with a gnarled hand. “Nay, lad. Disappointment is not what I am feeling. I see frightening things, things I cannot speak of because they are not yet clear in my head.” Her hand slid down to caress his cheek. “I fear for you, Drake. Blackness surrounds you, and blood.” She sighed. “Go to bed, lad. I am an old woman. Mayhap I am being fanciful.”

Leaning heavily on her cane, Granny Nola limped away. Drake stared after her. What did Granny see? he wondered. Granny might seem strange at times, but she had never told
him anything that had not come true. Had she seen his death?

To his knowledge, Granny had never been fanciful. She had known about the intimate relationship between him and Raven. Was their affair that obvious? Was Granny disappointed in him for taking advantage of Raven?

His mind was still whirling with unanswered questions when Raven returned from the privy. “Where is Granny Nola?”

“She retired. I suggest you do the same.” He rose and pulled on a rope, bringing the loft steps down. “Do you need help?”

“Nay, thank you.” She put one foot on the bottom rung. For some reason Drake was loath to let her go. He had grown accustomed to sleeping beside her, knowing she was nearby even if he could not make love to her. Grasping her waist, he pulled her down and into his arms.

Raven gasped in surprise. “Drake! What are you doing?”

“I have missed you,” he whispered into her ear.

“I have never left you,” she replied.

“I will join you tonight in the loft. I must have you one last time before I go off to fight.”

“Nay, you cannot.”

He grinned at her. “I beg to differ.”

“Your grandmother will not approve.”

“She will never know.”

“You know better than that.”

He refused to accept defeat. He kissed her, hard, and gave her a little shove toward the ladder. “Go. I will come to you soon.”

Hours later, Drake crept up the ladder and was disappointed to find Raven sleeping soundly. She looked so peaceful he did not have the heart to awaken her. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead and crept back down the ladder to his own bed before the hearth.

The next morning Drake carried water in from the well for Raven’s bath and waited outside while she had her soak. Raven was all too aware of Drake’s imminent departure. Sir John could arrive momentarily, and Waldo could even now be on his way to destroy Windhurst.

Raven stepped from the tub and dried herself while Granny puttered around the hearth.

Suddenly, out of the blue, Granny said, “You love my grandson very much.”

The drying cloth slipped from Raven’s hands and she quickly retrieved it, wrapping it around herself. “I . . . what makes you think that?”

“I do not think, dear; I know.”

Flustered, Raven began to dress. Were her feelings for Drake so transparent? “I am a burden to Drake. He will never love me.”

“There will be great upheaval in your life,” Granny predicted. “Your future remains murky.”

Raven went still. Would she be forced to return to Waldo? Would he kill her? Her hands went to her stomach. Mayhap she was carrying Drake’s child. What then?

“Drake is waiting outside,” Granny said. “Mayhap you should join him. The moor is lovely this time of year.” She glanced out the window to the heather-covered hills, and beyond. “Sir John comes.” She turned away. “Soon my grandson will meet Waldo in battle.”

Raven expelled a shaky breath. “What do you see, Granny? Will Drake survive?”

Granny stared at Raven. “I sense danger. There will be bloodshed, but I do not see Drake’s death. Both you and Drake will face difficult times, but only God knows where it will all end. I cannot see beyond the blood, but I do know that Waldo holds the key to Drake’s future.”

“Tell me more!” Raven cried, frantic for a peek into the future.

Granny sighed. “I can tell you naught else. Go now, Drake waits for you.”

Raven did not bother to braid her hair or don a cap after she had brushed her hair free of tangles. She waved to Granny and flew out the door to join Drake. This might be the last time they would be together in a very long time. She found him sitting on a stone fence, staring off into the distance. He must have sensed her presence, for he turned and watched her approach.

He is so handsome, Raven thought, admiring everything about him: the proud way he carried himself, his warrior’s hard body, his passion, his adherence to the chivalric code. She had loved Drake when he was a lad, and she loved him still—loved him so much she would sacrifice everything for his sake.

“Did you enjoy your bath?” Drake asked when she joined him at the fence.

“Very much, thank you. Granny suggested that we stroll across the moor.”

Drake looked startled. “Granny said that?”

“Aye. She said that Sir John will arrive soon, mayhap today.”

“I have been expecting him. Come.” He held out his hand to her. “ ’Tis a fine day for a stroll.”

Neither spoke as they walked hand in hand through the heather.

“What are you thinking?” Drake asked.

“About Chirk, and how happy and carefree we were.”

Drake’s expression hardened. “Mayhap you were happy and carefree, but Waldo and Duff made certain my days at Chirk were anything but pleasant.”

Raven’s heart went out to the forlorn child Drake had once been. “I’m sorry.”

“Nay, do not pity me. I would not be the man I am today
had I not been forced to fight for recognition. Let us speak of more pleasant things.”

“The wildflowers are lovely,” Raven remarked.

Drake stopped, plucked a posy, and presented it to her. She sniffed deeply, then held it beneath Drake’s nose. “Very nice,” Drake remarked. Suddenly his eyes darkened and he snatched the posy from her hand and tossed it to the ground.

“God’s blood, Raven, I cannot pretend I do not want you. I think my wise old granny sent us here because she knew we needed to be alone.”

He pulled her to the ground with him and pressed her down onto the fragrant heather. “I want to make love to you, sweet Raven. I want to take off all your clothes and fill my eyes with your beauty. I want to arouse you slowly, and when you are ready, I want to thrust myself into your tight, hot body and take you with me to paradise.”

Raven swallowed convulsively. His words were intensely arousing, like a potent aphrodisiac, sending shimmering waves of heat coursing through her, and Raven burned for his touch. “I want that, too.” She cast a furtive glance behind her. “What if someone comes along?”

“No one will come. Why do you think Granny sent us here?”

He raised her tunic and shift, but his hands were suddenly clumsy and fumbling. “Forgive me,” he apologized. “ ’Tis not like me to be so clumsy. I have never wanted a woman this much before and ’tis a frightening feeling.”

Raven wanted to tell him she felt the same, but his hands on her body made coherent speech impossible. Yet somehow their clothing flew away. When they were both naked, Drake sat back on his heels and stared at her.

“I like making love in the daylight,” he said as his heated gaze skimmed over her. “I never tire of looking at you. Do you know how you look now?” Raven shook her head. “Like
a goddess dedicated to the sun. Your body is the color of pale ivory splashed with golden sunlight. Your hair is a combination of so many colors I cannot begin to describe it. Like rich, burnished chestnut woven with gold.”

“You have a warrior’s body,” Raven said, smoothing her hands over the hard muscles of his back and buttocks. “Velvet on stone. I wish . . .”

“What do you wish, my love? Ask anything, for today is magical and all your wishes will be granted.”

“Not this wish,” Raven said wistfully.

“Tell me.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “Nay. My wish can never be. Just love me, Drake. We have today; let us not waste it.”

Drake kissed her, plundering her mouth like a starving man. There was little finesse in his kiss; apparently he was too hungry for restraint. She sighed as he captured her head in his large hands, smoothing her hair as his hands continued down her back to her buttocks. Cupping the round mounds firmly, he pulled her against his turgid loins. Their heated gazes met a brief moment before he bent to taste her nipples. Drawing one ripe bud into his mouth, he sucked vigorously. She gasped in delight. Suddenly eager to touch him, she moved her hands between them, searching until she found him. Her fingers curled around him, sliding down his length with measured strokes.

His staff was full and hard. She felt it pulsing within her palm as if it had a life of its own. His groan echoed loudly over the enchanted moor, where no one existed but two star-crossed lovers seeking pleasure. Then she brought his staff to her entrance, spread her thighs, and wrapped her legs around his waist, opening herself to him. She felt herself stretching as he filled her, and she shifted to accommodate him, tilting her hips so she could take all of him. Then he began to move. The arousing friction, the bliss, were nearly unbearable.
Raven rose up to meet his forceful strokes, clutching his shoulders, grinding her pelvis against him.

Raven climaxed first, crying out so loudly she did not hear Drake shout her name as he gave up his seed. Then he collapsed against her. Raven accepted his weight, holding him against her. She did not want to let him go for fear of losing him forever.

“That was too quick,” Drake said as he slipped from his warm haven and rolled off her. “It has been too long.”

They rested awhile, lying amid the heather, then made love again. With the sharp edge of their passion temporarily sated, they leisurely explored each other’s bodies. Raven was not satisfied until she knew Drake’s body as intimately as he knew hers. When he begged her to put an end to it, she mounted him and slid down over his erection. The perfect melding of their bodies flung them over the edge to bliss.

They had just finished dressing when Sir John appeared at the edge of the moor.

“Sir John is here,” Drake said as he guided Raven across the moor to where the knight awaited them.

Raven paled. She felt as if an unseen hand were crushing her heart. Granny might not have sensed Drake’s death, but she had implied that his danger was great. Her thoughts remained gloomy as they approached Sir John.

“I see my message reached you,” Drake said, clasping John’s arm.

“Aye. Sir Richard was waiting at Windhurst for me when I arrived with the mercenaries. I’ve brought you fifty strong warriors, all eager to swear fealty to the Black Knight.”

“Did you see aught of Waldo?”

“Nay. I sent the mercenaries on to Chirk with Sir Richard. You will have an army of over one hundred warriors when they join the men already there. They but await your orders.”

“You did well, John. We will ride as soon as you have eaten and rested.”

Raven paled. “So soon?”

Drake’s expression softened. “I cannot allow Waldo to reach Windhurst. He will destroy everything I own with his war machines if I do not intercept him. Thanks to John, our armies are now evenly matched. Fear not, Raven. I will return.”

Granny was waiting on the porch for them. Her lined face was creased with worry, and she leaned heavily upon her cane.

“I have food ready,” she said. “Come and eat.”

Sir John removed his armor and joined Drake at the table. Raven and Granny set food and drink before them and they ate in silence. When they had eaten their fill, Granny packed the remains in a cloth sack for them to take along. Then Raven helped both John and Drake don their armor.

“Walk outside with me,” Drake said as he guided Raven out the back door to the lean-to where his horse was stabled.

Raven could not stop her trembling as she followed Drake. Was this to be their final farewell? Would she ever see him again? She watched fearfully as he saddled Zeus. Then he removed his helm and drew her into his arms.

“Promise me you will remain here no matter what.”

Raven could not bear looking into those silver eyes, so compelling in their intensity. He was asking something she could not grant.

“Nay,” she whispered shakily. “Circumstances might arise that may require me to leave.”

“Heed me well, Raven. Waldo will not treat you gently should you fall into his hands. No matter what happens to me, you must remain with Granny.”

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