Kingdom Come (38 page)

She chuckled and stepped back, out of the line of splashing water.  “It doesn’t all smell like flowers,” she said. “I have a bar of soap that smells like sage and pine.”

“I am content as I am.”

He might have been but she wasn’t. Rory disappeared into their chamber, hunting down the trunks that had been completely emptied.  She began to search for the contents and discovered them all neatly stacked on the shelf in one of the two enormous wardrobe cabinets in the room.  The soap she was searching for was a milky colored lump with flecks of green.  Laying her hands on it, she took it back into the privy chamber.

Kieran was still splashing water all over his head.  Rory went up to him, grabbed him under the chin to force his head up, and began lathering up his head.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, though he didn’t pull away. “I told you that I did not want to smell like a woman.”

“Shut up,” she said lightly. “Splashing water all over you isn’t going to do a bit of good. You’re not really clean unless you’ve used soap; it gets rid of the dirt and bacteria.”

He groaned as she scrubbed his head. “Good God,” he growled. “I’ve not needed soap for thirty two years and….”

“Enough,” she snapped, moving to soap up his neck and shoulders. “I’ve been dealing with your sweaty, dirty body for weeks now and I think I deserve a clean husband for once.”

He just growled, but now it wasn’t so entirely angry; she was soaping his shoulders and back, massaging him at the same time, and he was quickly succumbing to her.  The woman had magical hands.  She moved around to his chest, soaping him, rubbing him, and Kieran could feel himself growing hard.   There was such powerful chemistry between them that his physical reaction to her was almost instantaneous.

“You are a tyrant, Lady Hage,” he muttered.

“I know,” she came around front, washing his face. “Stop pretending that you don’t like it.”

“Get in this bath with me.”

She saw that twinkle in his eye, the familiar sexual desire.   She shook her head. “Not now,” she said, splashing water on his cheeks. “Let’s get you clean first and then I’ll think about it. Stand up.”

He did, with a full-blown erection in her face. Rory just shook her head at him again, trying not to giggle as she soaped around it.She moved from his belly to his back to his buttocks and down his massively muscled legs.  Kieran’s erection never went down and she finally succumbed to her own lust for her husband’s hot body and soaped his testicles, pleasuring his massive member with her mouth until he begged for mercy. When he climaxed, she let him spend himself on the swell of her breasts. 

Exhausted, sated to the bone, Kieran collapsed back into the bath and lay back against the slope of the tub, his head resting on the back.  Rory wiped off her breasts with a corner of the linen he was going to use to dry himself.

“You are a witch, Lady Hage,” he groaned, satisfied. “You cast a spell upon me and I can only think, hear or taste of you.”

She smiled at him, rinsing her hands in the bathwater. “So I’m a witch and a tyrant, am I?” she said. “You must think very highly of me.”

He grinned, his eyes still closed. “You are also my angel,” he murmured. “I worship you.”

She laughed softly. “Nice save,” she leaned over the side of the tub and kissed him; he put his wet hand against her back affectionately. “Do you want me to shave you?”

He sighed heavily. “Perhaps later,” he opened his eyes and looked at her. “I told Brethel to bring food. Has it arrived yet?”

She nodded. “They brought it when they brought your hot water.”

“Good,” he rubbed her back fondly, drinking in her sweet, rosy-cheeked face. “Perhaps we should eat first and retire early. Tomorrow will be a….”

He was cut off by many voices, male voices, he recognized. Rory didn’t even have time to stand up before the Hage brothers burst into the chamber via Sean’s room.  As Rory rose to her feet, Sean smiled sweetly at her, took her hand to help her stand, and kissed her on the cheek.

“Lady Hage,” he greeted kindly. “It is good to see that you are well.”

She nodded gratefully. “I am, thank you,” she replied. “I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble.”

Sean’s dark eyes glimmered at her. “No trouble at all, my lady,” he said, turned to his brother. “Why are you up here? We were waiting for you in the hall.”

Rory stood back as Sean, Christian and Andrew clustered around the tub.  Kieran looked up at his brothers with irritation on his face.

“Can a man not have some time alone with his wife?” he demanded. “If I wanted you here, I would have sent for you.”

Sean snickered as Christian and Andrew looked rather dumbfounded. They all looked at Rory, standing primly several feet away from the tub.  Then Kieran’s words finally occurred to Christian.

“God’s Blood,” he muttered, turning away from the tub and dragging Andrew with him. “We have interrupted them.”

Kieran reached out and grabbed his brother by the leg before he could move away completely. “Fortunately for you, you have a keener sense of timing,” he said. “Five minutes earlier and I would have taken your head off.”

As the brothers snickered, Rory turned beet-red and fled the bathroom.  Kieran was on his feet, sloshing water out of the tub.

“I was jesting, sweetheart,” he called after her, grabbing the linen towel slung over the woven partition. “Do not be angry.”

She called something back to him that none of the brothers, save Kieran, understood.  It was an insult he would not repeat and wriggled his eyebrows at his brothers.

“The child has made her extraordinarily sensitive,” he explained. “I must watch what I say or she will fly into a rage.”

Sean nodded in understanding. “As did Maggie.  Great Gods, I remember those days with fear and awe.”

“Then perhaps you can help me navigate these unfamiliar waters,” Kieran wrapped the towel around his waist and moved into his big, warm chamber with his brothers on his heels.  He saw Rory standing in front of the wardrobe, tucking away the sage and pine soap. “I was jesting, sweet; I am sorry if I upset you.”

She closed the doors to the wardrobe and faced the group. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, studying the trio of unfamiliar faces. “Besides, I just thought you’d like to be alone with your brothers.”

Kieran smiled at her, dropping the towel right then and there. She tried not to blush as he went to the other wardrobe and threw open the doors, looking for something to wear.  It apparently didn’t bother him that he was stark naked with his brothers and wife in the room. Worse than that, his erection hadn’t died down completely and Rory found herself wishing the floor would swallow her up.  She reopened the wardrobe that had her possessions in it and pretended to busy herself as Kieran found a pair of leather breeches and pulled them on.  Meanwhile, Christian and Andrew were over at the food on the table, throwing off the cloth and inspecting the offerings. Kieran caught sight of what they were doing.

“Get back, you hounds,” he admonished. “My wife has not yet eaten. You can scavenge her leavings.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Rory saw that he was at least partially dressed and she reemerged from the wardrobe and shut the door. 

“It’s all right,” she said. “I’m really not that hungry.”

Kieran went to her, bare-chested and delicious, and led her over to the table, shoving his brothers aside. He sat her gently.

“Eat,” he kissed the top of her head.

She reached up and touched his big hand as it rested on her shoulder. “Do you think Bud and David can come up and eat with me? They’re probably really scared, in a strange place and all. Please?”

Kieran couldn’t deny her, although his family might think he’d gone mad. No sooner had he sent a servant to collect the boys then his father was suddenly bursting into the room.

“Here you are,” he boomed, shoving open the door. “I found myself alone in the hall and assumed you were all up here.”

Rory was startled by the door flying open and the big, booming voice. When she saw who it was, she immediately lowered her head. She was terrified that any words exchanged with the man would have her throwing punches at him.  So she kept her head down and shoved a piece of white cheese into her mouth.

But Jeffrey ignored her completely. He went straight to Kieran. “What’s this I hear that de Corlet tried to murder you?” he demanded. “And this story of a holy relic; Kieran, is it true?”

Kieran scratched his head and went in search of a tunic. “Aye,” he said simply, finding a soft unbleached linen tunic and pulling it over his magnificent chest.  “It is true; all of it.”

Jeffrey’s gem-clear brown eyes flickered dangerously. “That petty bastard,” he growled. “I will gather a thousand men and lay siege to his father’s home. I’ll wipe the man from the earth!”

Kieran held up his hands. “That will not be necessary,” he said. “But I do need your advice. You must keep your wits about you and not think with your sword.”

Jeffrey opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it.  Taking a deep breath, he clasped his hands behind his back and made all attempts to look composed.  Kieran, eyeing his father, pulled on another pair of boots.

“Do you know the entire story or must I repeat it?” he asked, somewhat subdued.

Jeffrey, too, was calming. “Sean told me everything.”

“What did he tell you about the holy relic?”

Sean, standing over near Rory, spoke up. “I told him everything you told me,” he said. “Father knows that the savages used you as a peace envoy to Richard.  He knows that Simon tried to kill you because of it. He knows you brought the relic home.”

Kieran looked at his father. “As I told Sean, my only goal was to make it home alive,” he said. “Now that I am here, I would seek your advice on what to do with the relic. It is no longer a gift of peace; that opportunity is long gone.”

Jeffrey appeared thoughtful, seriously pondering the problem. “Are you sure the savages did not lie to you? Is it really Christ’s crown of thorns?”

Kieran’s reply was to turn for the wardrobe that held his belongings. He opened the doors and began rummaging around, drawing forth a big leather satchel. Rory, on the other side of the room, recognized the bag as he laid it on the bed.   The first thing he pulled out of it was something she identified immediately; his journal. 

It brought her back to the day when they had first discovered Kieran’s suspended corpse.  His possessions had been hastily buried with him, including the journal, and Rory had latched onto it right away. Because of the age of it at the time, it had been difficult to read the parchment pages. They were old and brittle. But she had read enough to know that Sir Kieran Hage was a man among men. She had fallen in love with him before she even met him.  As she saw Kieran lay the journal out, she rose from the table and went over to the bed.

Rory picked up the journal as Kieran dug around in his satchel and pulled forth the box he had been seeking. Plain, unassuming, made of precious wood and woven fibers that she assumed to be papyrus or something like it.  It was about nine inches by nine inches, perhaps three inches high.  Kieran lifted the latch on the top and opened the box, peeling back the rough linen and revealing the treasure inside.

By this time, Jeffrey and the three Hage brothers were leaning over the bed to get a glimpse of what the box contained. They could all see the rather pathetic bundle of vines, faded and hardly spectacular. Long thorns that looked more like small branches adorned the circlet, some of them having broken off during the passage of time.  Rory remembered thinking the first time she saw it that it hardly looked like something of such powerful holy significance.  But the aura radiating from it, the feeling when she got when she looked at it, told her otherwise.