do ye stay with Farthing?” Gamel asked a while later. “He cannae be all a mon should be with ye.”
“Love isnae based upon what dangles between a mon’s legs.”
Gamel’s hand clenched on the tankard of wine he shared with her. “Ye dinnae love him.”
She moved slightly from where she sat curled up at his side. “Aye, I do.”
“Nay, ye cannae, not when ye say ye are mine. Not when ye feel as ye do.”
“How do ye ken what I feel or dinnae feel? I dinnae ken it myself. Ye have given me no chance to think.”
Encircling her neck with his arm, he gave her a deep, fierce kiss. “That. That is what ye feel for me.”
“Fire. Passion beyond reason. Fear.”
“Fear?” He jerked away from her. “Nay. Dinnae say ye fear me.”
“And why not? I was a virgin, untried in all the ways of loving. Suddenly there comes a mon who but looks at me and sets my innards afire, fills me with emotions I ken little of and understand less. Aye, I fear ye, as any maid would. Ye have thrust me into womanhood without wooing or preparation.”
“No matter how ye arrived within my bed, I would have been unable to grant ye either.” He took a deep drink of wine, set the tankard aside, then pulled her into his arms. “I have ne’er ached so badly, ne’er wanted so fiercely. Wooing was beyond me. I believe I barely avoided rape.”
“Now there is consolation.”
“Sine, this isnae something to fear. ’Tis something to revel in. I have kenned my share of women, mayhaps more than my share, but never have I tasted such as this.”
“The Land of Cockaigne.”
“What?”
“Farthing claims such as this is the Land of Cockaigne, paradise upon earth.” She could see that mention of Farthing did not please Gamel at all.
“How long have ye been with him?”
“Six years.”
“Ye were but a child when ye joined him. What? Ten, eleven?”
“Just twelve. A child who needed someone to care for her and her brothers.”
“And ye call it caring when he teaches ye to steal?”
“Aye—taught us to steal with skill. Theft and conjuring were his only skills and he shared them with us.”
“He has a fine talent with a sword.”
“Aye, so? He should sell that, should he? How would he keep us if he became some lordling’s hired sword? Such work is also hard, rewards not often forthcoming even when weel earned. The risks are verra high. He cares for me and the twins. He protects us. We had no one and he took us in. I willnae question his life, for he shared it with us willingly, kindly. I love that mon. Aye, ye may growl, glare, and curse all ye like if it makes ye feel better,” she added when he did just that. “Howbeit, none of that will change the fact.”
“Then love him, curse your beautiful eyes.” He pushed her onto her back. “Love him, but it will never change the fact that ye are mine. Mine, Sine.”
“Yours.”
She whispered the word as she stood by the bed a few hours later, watching him sleep. Each ache in her body brought forth a heated memory. It was hard to leave the shelter of his arms, harder still to dress in the faint light of a swiftly approaching dawn. She knew that, in his mind, her actions would put the lie to all she had said. That realization brought her close to weeping. It hurt to think that what memories he held of her would be tainted by her departure.
With skillful stealth she slipped out of the room. There was one thing she had to do before she left the inn. Cautiously, she made her way to Janet’s tiny alcove. It was easy enough to slip inside. She mused wryly that she could have slipped right into the bed Janet and Ligulf shared except that Ligulf was awake. By instinct, he grabbed for his sword, then gaped when he recognized her. She watched his surprise quickly alter to concern.
“Does something ail Gamel?”
“Nay.” She moved to the side of the bed, smiling faintly at Janet, who began to wake up. “He still sleeps.”
“Then why are ye here?”
“I hope to fend off his first unkind thoughts when he finds me gone. I wish to keep such bitter conclusions from settling in his mind, although in truth, he deserves little consideration from me.” She held out a medallion of finely wrought silver. “Will ye give this to him, please?”
“Where did ye get something like this?” he asked as he accepted it.
“’Tisnae stolen. ’Tis a trinket from my past. My past is what rules me now. I must find it and restore it.”
“I dinnae understand ye.”
“There are wrongs I must set right, grievous wrongs. Things stolen that I must regain, murders—aye, murders—I must and will avenge. My heritage has been stained with blood and treachery. I intend to wipe that stain away. I vowed to do all this for myself and for my half brothers six long years ago. For six years I have clung to my vow. I cannae, willnae, allow myself to be swayed from it. Not for your brother. Nay, not even for Farthing if he asked it of me.”
“Gamel asked ye to stay with him?”
The shock in the youth’s voice stung a little. “He expects it, but I just told ye why I cannae.”
“Why didnae ye just tell him yourself?”
Faint color seeped into her checks. “I would have had to wake him.”
Janet laughed softly. “And then there would have been no leaving.”
Sine grimaced. “Just so.”
Ligulf eyed Sine curiously. “Are ye certain Farthing still waits for ye? Mayhaps he left.”
“Nay, Master Ligulf, he would never leave me. Farthing spent the night beneath your brother’s window.” She managed to smile at his surprise. “I must go now or all my stealth will be for naught.”
“Wait but a moment. I am confused. Are ye saying ye would leave your husband for Gamel?”
“I would leave Farthing for him, but I wouldnae forsake my vow.”
“Nay, ye are wed. Gamel would never bring an adulteress into our home,” he muttered. “Ye must have misheard him.”
“He said, ‘Not just this night, Sine Catriona. Ye are mine,’ and he pressed me to admit it. Howbeit, he went no further than that. He offered me no honorable situation, no choice of becoming his wife or his leman. Nevertheless, ’tis certain he doesnae mean for me to leave.”
“Nay, ’tis certain.”
“Be sure to tell him all I have said as I have said it.”
“I will, but he will still ken that ye have climbed back into Farthing Magnus’s bed.”
Again she smiled, unable to hide her amusement. “Oh, nay, nay. He will never think that.” She grew serious again. “Tell him that when my vow is fulfilled I will return, although I dinnae expect him to wait for me. Not only am I unsure of what he meant by my being his, but my work could take months, years. It already has.
“Tell him he was right. It pleases me little to say so, to admit I am his. He has been extremely arrogant and most unkind to Farthing. Howbeit, I fear I am his. No matter what time or events transpire, no matter what people come between us. I feel not only ravished this dawn, but also branded and bonded.”
“Yet ye leave.”
“I told ye—I must. ’Tisnae easy. ’Twill be impossible if he wakes. So give him my medallion and tell him it is all