Read Online Besieged Heart (No Ordinary Lovers Collection) by Jennifer Blake - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Blake
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again. The leaping fire died to glowing coals. The barbaric scene darkened, slowly fading, became once more only a large low bed in a sleeping chamber of the woodland cottage. Beyond the windows, the sunlight was slanting as the earth turned toward the west. They had loved the day away, and now it was nearly done.
Out of the long silence, Mara sighed, reaching to place her palm over Rayne’s heart while she lay against his side. Her voice low and as even as she could make it, she said, “I have need of a small boon. Can you possibly grant it?
“Only ask.”
The response was deep-toned and immediate, but she felt the jolt of his heartbeat. He knew what was coming—how could he not?
She moistened lips that were suddenly dry. It was a moment before she could force words through her throat. “I once thought I could bend in submission to my foe, that it was my duty to abandon all hope of love and to marry for reasons of state. I find I have no taste for that martyrdom, after all.”
“Few would ever consider it,” he said.
She went on, heartened. “I will take that course if I must, but only as a last resort. There is, perhaps, another way.”
“Yes, Princess?” he said when she halted.
“A great wizard once suggested that I choose a champion, someone strong and true to fight in ritual combat for my sake, defending me to the confusion of my enemy.” She swallowed hard and closed her eyes before she went on. “You are the man I choose. If I ask it most politely, will you extend me this honor?”
Wind rose in the space of a heartbeat, whirling into the room. The cottage and the deep forest were whipped away with the dark expansion of time and distance. They whirled into nothingness.
In thunderous transformation, Mara and Rayne returned to the castle battlements. They stood once again where they had been in the beginning, with the light of the setting sun in their faces. Beyond its walls, the baron advanced, confident upon his charger, displaying the might of his men behind him in order to awe the castle into surrender. The men of the garrison, tired and fearful, eyed each other, while women stood in whispering groups with hungry children clinging to their skirts.
Crowned with a simple gold fillet, dressed in fine linen in rich colors, and with a sumptuous cape of fine red cashmere wool around her, Mara gripped the stone in front of her. Her eyes were dark, and her hair shifted around her stiff shoulders in the spring wind. There was a bloom on her high cheekbones, however, and mystery in her eyes.
Rayne did not wear the brown robe and cowl of the wizard, but stood tall behind her in a knight’s tunic and cloak, and with the molded steel of a breastplate armoring his broad chest.
Beyond these minor changes in dress, the moment was the same as when they had left it such a short time—and yet such an eternity—before. Rayne’s voice was deep and not quite steady as he spoke exactly as he had then.
“Will you surrender?”
Mara considered carefully. It was not easy in her distraction. Somewhere deep within was a disturbing sense of loss, as if something important had been forgotten or she had failed to recall a wonderful dream on awakening.
It didn’t matter. The question her wizard had asked of her required a reply. There was only one that she could see.
“Impossible,” Mara said. “Impossible here, impossible now.”
It was the answer to many things, the final result of everything that had passed between them in the isolated woodland, or at least everything that she could recall with any clarity. Slowly, she turned her head to look at him.
He met her gaze for a single instant. In the depths of his eyes was a desolation of corresponding loss allied to steel-hard resolve. Seeing it, she felt the sudden ache of tears.
His cloak billowed around him as he stepped to her side, coming close, so much closer than he had ever dared in the past. His breastplate caught the fading daylight and glowed with a
Out of the long silence, Mara sighed, reaching to place her palm over Rayne’s heart while she lay against his side. Her voice low and as even as she could make it, she said, “I have need of a small boon. Can you possibly grant it?
“Only ask.”
The response was deep-toned and immediate, but she felt the jolt of his heartbeat. He knew what was coming—how could he not?
She moistened lips that were suddenly dry. It was a moment before she could force words through her throat. “I once thought I could bend in submission to my foe, that it was my duty to abandon all hope of love and to marry for reasons of state. I find I have no taste for that martyrdom, after all.”
“Few would ever consider it,” he said.
She went on, heartened. “I will take that course if I must, but only as a last resort. There is, perhaps, another way.”
“Yes, Princess?” he said when she halted.
“A great wizard once suggested that I choose a champion, someone strong and true to fight in ritual combat for my sake, defending me to the confusion of my enemy.” She swallowed hard and closed her eyes before she went on. “You are the man I choose. If I ask it most politely, will you extend me this honor?”
Wind rose in the space of a heartbeat, whirling into the room. The cottage and the deep forest were whipped away with the dark expansion of time and distance. They whirled into nothingness.
In thunderous transformation, Mara and Rayne returned to the castle battlements. They stood once again where they had been in the beginning, with the light of the setting sun in their faces. Beyond its walls, the baron advanced, confident upon his charger, displaying the might of his men behind him in order to awe the castle into surrender. The men of the garrison, tired and fearful, eyed each other, while women stood in whispering groups with hungry children clinging to their skirts.
Crowned with a simple gold fillet, dressed in fine linen in rich colors, and with a sumptuous cape of fine red cashmere wool around her, Mara gripped the stone in front of her. Her eyes were dark, and her hair shifted around her stiff shoulders in the spring wind. There was a bloom on her high cheekbones, however, and mystery in her eyes.
Rayne did not wear the brown robe and cowl of the wizard, but stood tall behind her in a knight’s tunic and cloak, and with the molded steel of a breastplate armoring his broad chest.
Beyond these minor changes in dress, the moment was the same as when they had left it such a short time—and yet such an eternity—before. Rayne’s voice was deep and not quite steady as he spoke exactly as he had then.
“Will you surrender?”
Mara considered carefully. It was not easy in her distraction. Somewhere deep within was a disturbing sense of loss, as if something important had been forgotten or she had failed to recall a wonderful dream on awakening.
It didn’t matter. The question her wizard had asked of her required a reply. There was only one that she could see.
“Impossible,” Mara said. “Impossible here, impossible now.”
It was the answer to many things, the final result of everything that had passed between them in the isolated woodland, or at least everything that she could recall with any clarity. Slowly, she turned her head to look at him.
He met her gaze for a single instant. In the depths of his eyes was a desolation of corresponding loss allied to steel-hard resolve. Seeing it, she felt the sudden ache of tears.
His cloak billowed around him as he stepped to her side, coming close, so much closer than he had ever dared in the past. His breastplate caught the fading daylight and glowed with a
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