Surrender Read online

  "Older villagers were less at ease answering questions, but the young lads were only too quick to tell about a lovely girl found beside her dying horse, holding its head in her lap."

  "Aye," Colyne added. "Chief Broccin's other son, the one named Moridac, found Muriele and brought her to the keep."

  "Ranald has a brother?"

  "Dead now. Killed the day afore he was to wed. 'Tis why Chief Broccin forced the monk home." Brian stared at Squat and shook his head.

  "Monk? What monk?"

  "Ranald. Moridac's identical twin," Colyne chimed in.

  "Lucifer's piss! He was a monk?" Graemme's mouth dropped open. No wonder the girl was a fey lass. Her father was ready to cut off his ballocks, and he had called Graemme's future brother-by-law a devil. Her family was even stranger than his own.

  "Aye. In Kelso Abbey. Has a terribly scarred face and back. Father did it," Colyne said. He made a wide detour around a foul looking mess on the ground.

  "Near killed him then abandoned him for fifteen years. When the other twin died, Chief Broccin took an army to Kelso and forced the monk to return to the castle to sire grandchildren," Brian said.

  "Got a special paper from the Pope and all," Colyne added.

  "Humph. No wonder he spits fire with his eyes." Graemme shook his head. Poor bastard. "Did they say more about the woman, other than her horse died and they brought her to the castle? Where is she now?"

  "She went with this Ranald and his wife Catalin into Northumbria. She's part Saxon, part Norman. Word has it he went to besiege his wife's castle. Her uncle had taken it over." Brian adjusted his sword and scabbard and swung up into his saddle.

  Colyne settled his helmet on his head. "They say the girl with hair the color of summer wheat didna return. Could only be her. There is some talk about her disappearing into thin air."

  The stable boy tied a leather bag of supplies behind Graemme's saddle then a second boy handed each man a leather skin filled with enough water for the day.

  "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 a
nother 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."

  Chapter 7

  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.

  Lush. Beautiful. Curly. More auburn than that on her head. He felt himself stirring and held tight to his control, willing his stubborn cock to stillness. His heart beat faster as his gaze settled on the underside of her firm breasts. He wanted to look higher, but if he did so, she would learn he was awake.

  He didn't want her to know. He wanted to see what she would do.

  He saw.

  Elyne gently eased herself onto the bed, lying rigid as a fence board. He heard her swallow. For truth, more gulp than swallow. Funny, that. He had never noted such a thing before.

  The pillow moved when she turned her head to watch him, and he knew when she made up her mind for she eased closer to him until their skin touched. She st
opped like he had scalded her. After several breaths, her hand crept over to stroke across his chest, so light it tickled the hairs there.

  He allowed his body to stir. Just the smallest bit, as a man would who is restless and enjoying a dream. Huh! After all, she was big on dreams.

  He mumbled gibberish under his breath and slowly rolled on his side to face her. He breathed a light sigh and let his arm flop across her. Pox'd Lucifer! She near jumped from the bed. She seemed afraid to breathe but finally quieted. And when she started to put her arm around him, he muttered again and flung himself on his back. He near laughed when she whispered a frustrated response.

  "Drats."

  Had she slipped him another potion in his food? If it was a sleeping potion, it wasna working. The only thing he felt at the time was controlled lust when she moved to put her left arm across his chest and her soft breasts teased his skin.

  "Umph?" He pretended to be reluctantly awakening.

  Elyne felt uncertain. What was the matter with Sir Graemme? He should have been mindless with desire by now. Did he not eat the foods she had Cook prepare for him? Cook had laced them with aphrodisiacs taken from her mother's recipes. Elyne had thought such would make a man helpless not to couple with a woman. How was she to keep him here until long after the sun's rise if he wouldna awake and be properly lustful?

  She went over all the recipes in her mind, but she could not think of a single thing to make a man groggy. Except too much wine. But, Hades, her father drank more wine than she had sent to Graemme's room. It couldna be the reason. Ah. Perchance he had not the proper, er, stimulation? How did one go about properly preparing a man? She thought over all the rutting she had seen her brother Moridac and his women performing in the darkened corridors.

  She would try. There was no help for it.

  She eased up on her knees, and remembering how large his body was when atop him in the courtyard below, she reached one arm across his middle to place her hand on the bed for balance. Once there, she stretched her legs wide to straddle his hard, muscular hips.