WARRIORS Read online

  He glanced around, wondering where Loucetios had run off. In truth, this fair maiden’s sudden appearance made him question his safety. A beautiful woman could not live alone in the forest and if she did, there were others.

  It would be best to leave the woods at once and live to tell the tale than to linger and mayhap fall prey to this fair maiden’s men. Perhaps they lay in wait as they spoke, buying their time before leaping from the shadows. He opened his mouth to tell her of his regrets for leaving her, but closed it again when in a blink of an eye she stood close enough to touch, the glow surrounding her blazing brighter. Her dress was of fine velvet befitting royalty, not of a peasant in need of robbing to survive. Her fine boned features were both delicate and strong. She possessed a straight petite nose, high cheekbones, and lips made for kissing. In truth, she was the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes on and one he would feel honored to court. He frowned at where his thoughts had taken him, but somehow this woman befuddled his judgment. Aye, she was a comely lass, whose brazen stares spoke of desire, or so he believed.

  As a Knight Templar, he took an oath to follow the religious rules, the Rule of Benedict. He wore the white vestment, the symbol of purity and the life of celibacy, but he was no longer required to follow the Order’s rules.

  Her direct look set his blood coursing through his veins, hot with lust. Wed her or ravish her seemed to be one and the same as his thoughts pictured her in his bed and beneath him.

  As if she could read his mind, her full red lips curved. “You look like a strong and able man.” Her gaze traveled the length of him in appreciation. It was too bold a gaze for a woman who was untried. Liam was pleased rather than not. Someone should know what they were doing in the marriage bed. The church may condemn such pleasures of the body, believing bedding a woman should be left for child bearing, but he didn’t believe it for a moment that the maker of man would not want his creations to enjoy each other. Why bestow the magic of touch if they were not meant to reap the rewards. Nay, his God gave man a special gift. The sin was only in the act of abusing it.

  His gaze traveled over her, admiring her curves, the smooth porcelain color of her skin. This woman was meant for pleasure, giving and taking. He must convince her to be his.

  “I am most curious, Sir Knight, how would you please me?” she asked him.

  “How…” His brows furrowed. “You can read my mind.” He didn’t ask, but stated the obvious.

  “Among other talents, I assure you.” Her hand touched his and he shivered. Her touch was like ice, but it also increased his desire to have her.

  “You are cold, milady.” He drew off his mantle and draped it around her. Her eyes widened in surprise at the gesture.

  “You are too kind, Sir Knight.”

  “Liam, please. My friends call me Liam.”

  Her smile curved wider, revealing straight white teeth. On his journeys many women over the age of ten and nine had begun to lose their teeth, but not this woman who lived among the trees. His gaze focused on two of her teeth that appeared pointier than the others. The villagers claimed a female fiend lived in the forest, but surely this woman with thick dark hair could not be such a creature. He didn’t fear her, but longed to hold her. As her gaze slid over him, appreciation gleamed in her eyes. The wind still blew about them in a fury. A storm threatened the night, not ghosts or fiends. “And what may I call you, fair maiden?”

  “I was once called Glamis Drui.”

  “Lady Glamis Drui.” He raised her hand to his lips. Her flesh was still cool, but she didn’t shiver. The wind seemed not to bother her in the least. “Do you have shelter, milady? We must wait out the storm.” His gaze swept over her comely figure with appreciation.

  She stepped closer as if to inhale his essence. “Will you break your vows of celibacy and warm me this night then?”

  She knew he was untried, but he failed to wonder how and question her further. He wanted nothing more than to be with her. “Aye, I am yours.”

  Chapter Four

  Liam followed Glamis with ease. The trees and earth seemed to recognize her as one with them and secured a path for her to follow.

  A dark shadow loomed in the distance and it took him a moment to realize he viewed a keep. The tall stone structure stood across the loch, tall and straight, a fortified structure with only a few slit windows. At the end of the forest, stood a short pier, and a boat bobbed up and down on top of the water. She stepped into the vessel first with him following her. He rowed them to the other side, his gaze never leaving her. Heat curled inside of him, threatening his control. He wanted her, but he wanted to enjoy his first time with a woman and not rush the act. Years of practice taught him to control his passions and he tempered them now, less he shame himself.

  He helped her out of the boat then followed her inside the castle expecting servants to greet them, but there was not a living soul but for them.

  The grand hall remained as cool as it was outdoors, but at least it kept the wind at bay. Only the howling of its presence reminded him of the harshness of the weather. His eyes focused on the large fireplace. It stood dark and foreboding as if a fire had not licked against its stone surface in a long time. His brows furrowed as he wondered how Glamis fought off the chill of the long winter months.

  No candles were lit and he couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him, but Glamis moved about as if the cover of night didn’t hamper her sight in the least. Then again, she did have the unnatural glow about her, lighting her path.

  “I shall gather wood to keep us warm through the night,” he offered.

  “As you wish.” Her slim shoulders lifted in a shrug, seeming not to care. She may think otherwise as the night wore on and the storm took hold.

  Twenty minutes later, a roaring fire sent shadows leaping against the stone walls of the keep, revealing the grandness of the room. A long table stood at one end. Chairs with soft cushions sat near a smaller table carved from oak. Large, ornate tapestries adorned the walls. The intricate details would take a lifetime or more for a lass to complete. “I like that one best of all.” He pointed to the woven piece of rich blue, blood red, and gold. It depicted a couple locked in an embrace. A keep, like this one stood in the background. What intrigued him the most was the moon shining upon the couple as if it represented a symbol of worship.

  “You are most gracious. It is my favorite as well.” Her gaze touched the fine piece. Her unusual eyes dimmed as if saddened by what the tapestry represented.

  “Is the creation yours then?”

  Her gaze returned to him. “Aye, all the tapestries are mine.”

  He frowned. She couldn’t be much older than ten and nine with her skin so flawless and her hair thick. How could she have created so many lovely tapestries in her short life?”

  “I am much older than you believe, Sir Knight. Older than you by far.”

  He chuckled, but when she didn’t join him, he lifted a brow in surprise. “You are serious.”

  “I do not lie.”

  “You have done well to keep your youth.”

  “’Tis a curse,” she said with a long drawn out sigh.

  Before he could ask her what she meant, her hand slid down his arm, distracting his thoughts.

  “Let us move closer to the fire.” He spread his mantle out on the floor and stood to face her. By the fire his body warmed, but when he reached for Glamis to draw her into his embrace, she still felt cold to the touch. Before he could question her, she again distracted him. Her lips touched his in a passionate kiss with tongue and teeth. He felt a prick and pulled away in surprise. He touched his lips and stared at his finger, the tip revealing a pearl of his blood.

  Glamis reached for his hand and took the finger in her mouth. Her eyes closed as if she relished the taste of him. “All better.” Her gaze met his, her eyes glowing an unearthly reddish color.

  “Your eyes…”

  She took him under her spell again. Kissing away any coherent thoughts. Her han
ds made short work of his clothing as if her talent was to undress men at will. The erotic act proved intoxicating. “You have too many clothes on, milady.” He reached for her, but she backed away from him.

  “I shall be quicker.”

  He lifted a brow. Before he could make a comment, she whirled around in a gleam of light, her hair flying like dark waves of silk. When she stopped, she stood before him as bare as he was.

  “How?” His gaze wavered over her smooth skin, so pale and beautiful in the firelight.

  “Does it matter, Sir Knight?” She took the steps that separated them. Her hands slid over his torso and he forgot how cold her skin felt when his body blazed with heat and lust to have her. His heart slammed erratically against his ribcage as her fingers worked magic, going lower and lower.

  “Will you be mine this night?” her hand closed over his shaft, causing him to inhale with a sharp intake of breath.

  “Aye, I am yours.”

  She spread out on his mantel, her beautiful dark tresses haloing her face. Her features were that of an angel, but the way she beckoned him with the crook of her finger, temptress fit her better. He went to her, opening her thighs. She guided his fingers to the nub of her passion. Her gaze never left his as her body responded to his caresses. She didn’t hide her passion, but enjoyed showing him what he did to her.

  “Now, Sir Knight. Take me now.”

  He obeyed and drove his steel into her, his body feeling shockingly hot against hers. She clung to him, taking all he gave her, absorbing the heat of his passion. As he moved faster between her thighs, her eyes turned suddenly wild. With a low growl, she flipped him onto his back with strength he could not understand, but he cared not of the oddity. She ground her hips into him. Her breasts stood high, the nipples firm as he teased them.

  A hungry look entered her gaze as she leaned forward. Her breast pressed against his chest. “You have such thick dark hair,” she whispered near his ear as her fingers slid through the strands. “Your heart beats so fast.” A low growl escaped her lips. Her finger lifted his chin to the side, exposing his throat to her tongue. “Just one taste of purity.” Pinpricks stabbed into his flesh, startling him. He pushed at her, but her hand closed over his, in a grip he couldn’t break. She sucked and rode him until the erotic sensation took over, making him pant for more.

  She loosened her grip and his hands slid to her hips as she fed on his neck. A fleeting thought entered his subconscious. She drinks your blood. You could die if she takes too much. But he pushed the thought away as the euphoria took him over the edge. God help him, he didn’t want her to stop. The long ragged groan of release escaped his lips as shudders wracked his body. If he died tonight, he would go happily.

  Chapter Five

  Liam woke with a start, bolting upright. The world weaved in and out, but he steadied himself. He was no longer at the keep, but in the forest. There was no fire to keep him warm. He glanced down at himself, his hands sliding over his garments. He was fully dressed. Had he imagined the whole erotic encounter? “No.” He refused to believe it. “Glamis?” he shouted her name, causing the birds to fly away in protest. All else was still. Where had she gone? How did he end up back here? His hand went to the side of his neck where the skin felt tender. He pulled his hand away expecting to see blood where he knew Glamis had fed from him, but his palm remained unmarred.

  At the sound of rustling to the side of him, he withdrew his sword.

  The sun’s rays had seeped in through the branches, giving off some warmth, but not enough to ward off the chill that spread over him. “Who goes there?”

  Loucetios broke through the foliage.

  Liam lowered his sword and leaned on the hilt. “And where have you been, my friend, while I was dreaming about beautiful maidens who desired my blood?”

  Loucetios stomped his hoof and shook his head with a snort of disapproval.

  “Hmm… Well, I suppose I do deserve your condemnation. Falling off your back proves a novice act, but then you did rise up on your hind legs for no good reason.”

  He sheathed his sword and strode over to Loucetios. He ran the palm of his hand down the horse’s neck. “She seemed so real, Loucetios. So real.” His gaze looked toward the looming trees of oak and birch with longing for his fair lady.

  He mounted Loucetios with ease, urging his horse forward.

  In the daylight, the forest didn’t hold the ominous appeal. Birds busied themselves building nests, while the other animals of the forest scurried away in the foliage as he rode.

  Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that what happened last night was not of this realm. He shook his head and chuckled at the absurdity of his claim. The bump on his head was the culprit. As his father would tell him, “What did you expect to happen with you going off on your own in the forbidden forest drunk off your arse?”

  He should be thankful a pack of wolves didn’t attack him and leave his bones there to be discovered by the next fool.

  He didn’t relish the thought of facing the men at the Tavern Inn. He boasted of slaying fiends, but he would return empty handed with only a fantasy the Church would see fit to condemn him to death.

  He broke through the trees and the sun beat down on him, making him squint his eyes in protest. He raised his arm as a shield. “Saints preserve us.” He rubbed his face. Then drew back, startled. His fingers gingerly felt the hair on his chin. As soon as he left the Order, he took a sharp blade to his face to keep his skin smooth, but the whiskers had grown in thick overnight. He blinked as the sun’s rays made his eyes water. The sun seemed so much closer to the earth this morning with its brilliance.

  “Let’s go, Loucetios.” He nudged his horse into movement to cross the meadow and head for the village waiting in the distance.

  He was no coward and he would face the men and tell them… What exactly? The tavern loomed like a bad omen in front of him, but still he would not back down.

  “Face the bard and tell your tale.” His father lectured him when he was but a lad.

  He’d rather be drawn and quartered than reveal to the men he fell off his mount and hit his head. His reputation would be ruined. He’d have to come up with a fanciful rendition. As he dismounted, he wondered how good of a storyteller he could be.

  He entered the stable and found Cormac crouched in the corner like a forgotten waif.

  “What is with the long face, boy?”

  Upon hearing his voice, Cormac flew to his feet, his dark eyes wide and unbelieving as if he saw a ghost before him.

  “Oh Sir, you have returned. I thought never to see you again.”

  “Do not be so dramatic, Cormac. Of course I would return.” A grumbling noise had him staring at his squire with a raised brow. The boy was thin as a willow branch and it wasn’t from lack of feeding him. “When you’re finished come inside the Tavern and break fast with me. I will not have you scaring the horse with that noise your stomach is prone to make.”

  “Aye, Sir. I will come directly.”

  Without a backward glance, he strode out of the stables and headed toward the tavern. As he entered, the room fell silent as it did the night he arrived. If he didn’t know better, he would believe the men were surprised to see him. The fear in their eyes shone bright and a few crossed themselves and ran out of the tavern.

  He ignored their peculiar ways and sat down at the table in the back. The scent of cooked meat made his stomach rumble. It would seem he had something in common with his squire. The tavern owner licked his lips nervously, his steps unsure as he approached and kept a safe distance away.

  “I will not bite, Jarvis,” he grumbled with impatience. It was probably not the best way to put the man at ease.

  “What may I fetch for you, Sir?” Jarvis asked.

  “Whatever it is I smell cooking on the fire and a tankard of ale. Make it two. I expect my squire to join me.”

  “Coming right up.” He scurried away like a mouse being pursued by a cat.<
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  His gaze surveyed the remaining occupants who gaped at him opened mouth. It was discerning to be under such scrutiny. Maybe it would be best to tell them he failed with his quest to slay a demon. “Listen,” he announced. Their movements stilled and sweat beaded their brows as if they were cornered animals. He cleared his throat. “I spent the night in the forbidden forest, but encountered no living soul.” There, he had not lied. His encounter was a fantasy caused by a bump on the head and nothing more. “Your stories of the undead are not true, or perhaps the fiend was afraid of my sword.” He chuckled and tapped the weapon at his side, trying to lighten the mood.

  The tavern owner approached again, but glanced back at the others. “Leave Sir Liam alone now. He done told you what he found. Be off with you all.”

  He’d never seen a room vacate so fast. His brow lifted as he stared at the tavern owner for an explanation. Jarvis placed a plate and the tankard down, but before he could escape, Liam’s hand whipped out, grabbing him by his forearm.

  “Please, Sir.” Jarvis’ eyes widened in fear.

  Liam let him go and lifted his hands in surrender. “I mean you no harm. I just want to know why everyone is frightened of me.”

  “Sir, if I may be so bold, you have been gone near three days. We thought you were dead.”

  Chapter Six

  “Three days,” Liam voiced in the safety of his room he’d rented from Jarvis, and leaned against the door. How could this be? No wonder he was famished. No wonder his squire looked half starved. He thought his time in the forbidden forest a fantasy from a bump on the head, but he could not have been unconscious for three days. His hand brushed against his beard-stubble jaw, proving days had indeed passed without his knowledge. Pushing away from the door, he strode over to the looking glass nailed over the water basin. His gaze caught sight of his reflection. The distorted glass made him look haunted. His eyes appeared a lighter shade of blue, and his pallor looked ghostlike with dark rings bruising the tender flesh beneath his eyes. “Good Lord, I look like I have been in a fist fight and lost. No wonder the town folk shied away from me.”