When Dragons Rage

47

Will shivered in the grand chamber the Murosans had given him. The one thing he’d liked about Bokagul was that the rooms had been small enough that he had been able to keep warm. While the coverlet on the big bed was quite thick, he wished the bed was closer to the fireplace, and that the fireplace was bigger and that a fire was already roaring away. The chairs nearest the fireplace did look comfortable, and he eyed the bed’s coverlet and considered just wrapping himself in it and fashioning a bed of sorts from the chairs.

The servant who had led him to the room had wandered off, promising to bring back wine and some bread, so Will didn’t even look up from his fingertip exploration of the coverlet’s thickness when a faint knocking came at the door. “Come in.”

“Forgive my intruding, Lord Norrington.”

Will’s head came up and he turned, having recognized the voice. As he saw her, however, he hesitated. He knew it was Sayce because of the silver-and-amethyst mask, but without that he’d not have identified her. Instead of her red riding leathers, she had donned a simple gown of deep blue and loosely belted it with a knotted white rope. Her shoulders had slumped slightly and her eyes were downcast. She bore a silver tray with a pitcher of wine and a single earthenware cup, along with a small round of bread and some cheese.

Will crossed quickly to her and took the tray. He set it on the table between the chairs at the fireplace and turned to welcome her, but she’d already sunk into one of the chairs. “What’s wrong, Princess?”

She shook her head and her red hair veiled her face for a moment. Tears ran from beneath the silver mask and dappled the breast of her gown. Sayce pressed her left hand to her mouth, then swiped roughly at the tears.

“Please, Will, forgive me. I didn’t want to do this in front of you.”

“What is there to forgive?” Will sank to a knee before her. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“Physically, no, but in my heart.” She sniffed, then raised her gaze enough to look into his eyes. “My father, he was terribly angry with me for having gone off. He has accounted the deaths of each of the Lancers to me, personally. It didn’t matter that they volunteered to go. I will have to apologize to all of their families—I planned to anyway, you know I would have—and I have been stripped of my rank. He almost disowned me.”

The sorrow in her voice sank fangs into his heart. Will started to twist the ring she’d given him off his finger, but she closed her hands on his. “No, Will, no, you keep that. That estate was mine to give, and I am happy it is yours. I do not regret what I did, not a bit of it. I did what I did to save Muroso. You’re here, and that is all that matters.”

“Princess, I can’t keep it.” Will swallowed hard, scarcely believing his own words. Had he stolen the ring, he would have considered it his by right, and would have claimed to the grave that it had been passed down to him through generations and that any hint of theft was a gross insult. “Please, I am not suited to being a lordling.”

Sayce smiled. “You are far more noble than those born to it. I have seen this. You have changed my way of thinking, you know.” She shifted again, and her smile broadened. “And here, when I am despairing, you make me laugh. You make me feel… you make me feel happy.” She gave his hands a squeeze. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t…” Will fell silent for a moment, finding himself tongue-tied. It was more than that, though. An odd flutter ran through his belly. Heat rose, and he could feel his cheeks burn. His mouth went dry. He stood slowly, drawing his hands from hers, both reluctantly and knowing, somehow, that he had to.

He turned back to the pitcher and cup. “Would you like some wine, Princess? There’s only one cup.”

Her voice softened. “If you would share your cup with me, I would be honored.”

Will nodded mutely and poured. He didn’t like the fact that his hand was shaking as he poured, and fought to hold back the tremor. He set the pitcher back down, turned, and, extending his left hand, offered her the cup.

She made no move to take it. Instead, her hands rose to the back of her head, where she slipped the knot holding the silver mask on. Sayce drew it off timidly, then looked up at him. “Will, do you think I am pretty?”

He could say nothing. The bruise on the left side of her face had faded to yellow, but in no way marred her beauty. Her straight nose, high cheekbones, and strong jaw combined with blue eyes, fair skin, and red hair to make her a vision of loveliness. When she had worn the courtesy mask while recovering he had seen much of her face, but its lace had hidden the playful spray of freckles over her cheeks and nose.

She immediately glanced down. “You don’t have to say anything. Your silence says it all.”

“No, wait, Princess… no.” Will started forward and some of the wine sloshed. It didn’t hit her dress, but drenched his hand and sleeve.

And then she was there, placing her right hand over his left, gently and firmly covering it, steadying the cup. Her left hand met his outstretched right. Her fingers wove into his and brought that hand to her lips. She kissed the back of his hand softly, and again.

“Princess…”

Her voice came breathlessly. “Will, you saved my life. You will save my nation. You have changed the way I think about life and the way of the world. I went to Meredo looking for someone to save the world I knew, and found someone who has given to me a whole new world.”

She eased the cup from his left hand, then drank. She smiled, then kissed him. He tasted wine. Her hair brushed his face and her body pressed against his. The wine, her scent, the soft clinging of her dress to his legs, even the pressure of the belt’s knot, joined the sensation of her lips on his to all but overwhelm his senses.

Will circled her waist with his left hand and drew her more tightly against him. More than just his body responded to her. For the first time in forever he didn’t feel cold—he felt about ready to combust. And as her thighs shifted against him, she could not fail to notice his response.

In his mind, while this was sudden, it seemed so appropriate. He was a hero. She was a beautiful princess. He had saved her life. He would save her nation. Why would she not love him, not want him, not want to show her gratitude to him? That was the way of things. Such unions had been recorded in hundreds if not thousands of ballads and certainly would fit in the cycle of songs about Will, the King of the Dimandowns.

Yet even as part of him was seeing her affection as his due, another tiny part rebelled. He had already seen that life was not a cycle of songs. While he had saved her life, while he did like her, why would she like him? Because he was kind to his men? Because he shed his blood in her defense? Those things could be said of countless people, and the majority of them would have been citizens of Muroso. In some ways it made no sense, but the emotions and desires roaring through him gave him no time to think.

She deepened her kiss and they moved together away from the fireplace, a toward the bed. How the cup ended up on the bedside table Will was uncertain, but her unburdened right hand sank fingers into his hair, her fingers redolent of spilled wine. They tightened in his hair, tugging a bit, getting him to lift his chin so she could kiss his throat and beneath his left ear.

Then the bed caught Will across his hamstrings and he sprawled back. He started to sit up, but Sayce pressed him down with a hand to his belly. As he relaxed, she withdrew her hand and her dress came off over her head, leaving her naked save for the loop of white rope slanting down across her waist.

He had thought her beautiful before but, standing there naked, she simply took his breath away. Delicate breasts peaking at rosebud nipples were dusted with freckles. From strong shoulders through the narrows of her waist and the flare of her hips, her creamy flesh seemed almost luminous. She brought her left knee up to the edge of the bed, and he marveled at the play of muscles on her thigh.

“Do I please you, my lord?”

Will nodded and fire spread through him. “Very much so, Princess.”

“Good. It is my desire to please you even more.”

With incredible care and delicacy, she removed his clothes and covered his exposed flesh with soft kisses and tender caresses. She bid him lay back as she crawled onto the bed with him, crawled onto him, and began kissing him anew. She moved up and down over him, her fingers, her hair, her lips, and tongue igniting every fiber of his body.

And then she pressed him into her and lowered her hips to his. Sayce kissed him heavily and deeply, tasting his mouth, stealing his breath as her body rocked forward and back, her hips rising and falling. Sometimes her body’s urgency betrayed her, speeding things, but as his breath became ragged she slowed again, transforming quickness into fluid motion. She moved with him and against him, their bodies slipping over and past each other as the dew of exertion coated them.

Finally, after an eternity that ended all too quickly, Will’s passion erupted. Sayce clung to him more tightly and sucked at his neck even harder as her own body shook and shuddered. His groans covered her moans, but he could feel them against his neck, and the vibrations from them echoed the rapid hammering of his heartbeat.

They lay there together, hard breathing slowly tapering into easy, restful respiration. At some point Will fell asleep. He did not know for how long, but when he awakened, Sayce slept with him, pressed against his right side, the coverlet pulled up over both of them. When Will sought to stir, she just burrowed more tightly against his side and murmured something. He could not understand the words, but the tone and the warm caress of her breath on his chest coaxed him back to sleep.

Just before dawn Sayce awakened him with a kiss, then pressed fingers to his mouth. “My dear, dear, Will, I have to leave you. I did not intend to stay here all night, but… but I could not bring myself to go.”

He kissed her fingers. “You can stay.”

“No, Will, I can’t. If my father were to learn I had stayed with you… Oh, no, Will, it’s not that. I can see the hurt in your eyes. No, my father has incredible respect for you. It’s me he thinks so little of. He would tell you that I am unworthy of the affections of one so important.”

Will blinked. He knew he was still half-asleep, but it made no sense for her father to think she wasn’t worthy of him. More like the reverse. “Princess, your father can’t think that of you.”

She laughed a little and kissed his right shoulder—the one she’d slept on. “He does—right now anyway. He has in the past, but his ire will fade. Then, Will, then he can know, but not before. If he were to be really angry, he might send me away and I couldn’t bear that.”

“No, I’d not want that, either.”

Sayce smiled broadly. “Will, when we see each other, we must be circumspect, but in private…”

“You will come back?” He tried to keep the disbelief from his voice, then blushed. He was fairly certain such a question was never asked, at least in that manner, by any of the heroes of epic songs.

“Come back? Of course. Oh, Will, were it not for my father, I could not be torn from your side. I think I…” She fell silent.

“What, Princess?” A knot formed in his stomach. He thought he knew what she was going to say. He found it exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

“I think I am wicked for thinking about adding another burden to those you already bear, Lord Norrington.” She kissed him softly on the mouth, then the forehead. “You are very deep in my affections, Will. Very deep.”

“Princess, I…”

She pressed fingers to his lips again. “Say nothing, my lord. Say nothing. I know what is in your heart. That is enough.”

Sayce dressed in silence, though she did smile when she saw him watching her. She filled the cup of wine, drank, then kissed him once again, hastily, before leaving. Will rolled up onto an elbow to watch her go, then collapsed forward onto his face as the door clicked shut behind her.

He didn’t know what to think or what to feel, though he did know he felt very good, at least physically. The coverlet, where he nosed it, was full of her scent. He breathed deeply and her perfume quelled the riot in his head. Smiling, remembering, he fell asleep again.

His servant greeted him with breakfast, which Will took at the table near the hearth. The servant built up a fire, for Will’s sense of cold had returned, and even a hot bath did not get rid of it. While bathing, Will dared not let himself think of Sayce, lest his body betray his feelings in the presence of the servant, but choosing not to think of her guaranteed he could think of nothing but, and specifically her joining him in the tub of hot water.

Though he had previously considered it a curse, the sense of cold helped him because it cooled his ardor and concealed all visible evidence of it. He emerged from the tub and dried himself off, then dressed as quickly and warmly as he could.

The servant had anticipated his needs and had set his clothes to warming before the fire. Will pulled them on and smiled. Fastening his belt around his middle, he fished a gold coin from the pouch and tossed it to the youth. “Thank you.”

The young man, who likely was four years older than Will, caught the coin and stared at it. “Oh, my lord, thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” Will smiled and tied the mask onto his right shoulder. “I believe I’m ready to go.”

“Yes, my lord, very good.” The servant bowed. “It will be my pleasure now to conduct you to the king.”