The Falcon and the Flower Part 35

"I wil not al ow you to pul away from me, to withdraw from me again . . . keeping yourself from me while you grow ever colder and I grow ever hotter!" His eyes burned her with his intent, unblinking, his meaning deliberate. He tore off her s.h.i.+ft, possessively feasting on the sight of her rosy b.r.e.a.s.t.s in the flickering firelight. He knew she was watching his face, his eyes, his mouth as they wors.h.i.+pped her nudity, and he knew the effect it was having on her as her eyelids half closed. He trapped a nipple between finger and thumb and manipulated it gently, then cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with his great scarred hands and brought them to his mouth.

Her arms slid about his neck and she clasped him to her, opening her thighs. He slid into her hot sheath, fil ing her completely. Wildly she wrapped her legs about him, tossing her head from side to side on the silvery furs, riding with him to that secret place only the two of them were al owed to go. "I love you," he said hoa.r.s.ely.

"Take me!" It had a double meaning in that precise moment and he knew he could deny her nothing.

Afterward she lay in his arms in the big bed, whispering between kisses. "Al you need do is sail straight to Connaught, secure a castle for us, then fight your way through to Wil iam at Boyle. If you can't do that in short order, I'l know you for a weak-livered, a.s.s-eared lout." She was almost childlike in her trust and confidence in his abilities.

He kissed her again and murmured, "You have an uncommon knowledge of my business, madame."

"You forget I am a witch," she teased him with her tongue.

"Did you say b.i.t.c.h?" he asked, his mouth sliding down to taste her luscious b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His lips traced down her stomach and drifted between her legs. As his cheek rested against her soft thigh, he asked her to show him the place she liked to be touched. He captured her hand, kissed each finger, then ran his tongue across her palm. He guided her first finger to the insistent hot pulsing between her legs.

"Here?" he whispered, al owing her fingertip to touch the swol en pink flesh. "Here?" he asked huskily, moving her finger to touch the erect bud of her womanhood.

When she gasped "Please, Falcon," he smiled knowingly and raised her hand back to his mouth. He sucked the sweetness from her fingertips then took her fiercely a second time. Then he enfolded her in his arms with her back against him so he could fal asleep holding her breast as he always did.

Falcon sealed his message to Wil iam de Burgh, and Murphy was on his way. Wil iam and Mathilda de Braose decided to sail with Murphy to Meath where their son-in-law Walter de Lacey ruled, and which would bring Murphy closer to Boyle.

While the s.h.i.+ps were being brought from Bristol, Falcon pored over his maps of Ireland. He was a direct man who chose a goal and made an unswerving path toward it, and he saw no reason to change his methods in this campaign. Most of the English in Ireland went to Dublin and never ventured beyond The Pale. He would go to the opposite coast. He would sail directly into Galway and secure it. Galway looked to have a magnificent bay. He knew it had a great Norman castle built by the Conqueror in the last century when Galway had been a thriving seaport.

It was also the heart of the de Burgh lands of Con-naught. In the week before they sailed he almost despaired that he had promised to take Jasmine, for he realized that wherever she went, the menagerie fol owed. The twins, their wet nurse, Big Meg, and Estel e he grudgingly agreed to. She had to seduce him, however, into agreeing to take Feather and p.r.i.c.k. When the subject of Shanna arose, he flatly refused, and Jasmine was forced to smuggle the great cat aboard a supply s.h.i.+p under cover of dark. Jasmine would leave nothing behind she valued, for she knew with a deep certainty that their future lay in Ireland, for good or for il .

Falcon was mildly surprised that his knights and men-at-arms totaled four hundred. No wonder John wanted his service again. Wel , he was going to Ireland, but it sure as hel wasn't in the king's cause. It was in de Burgh's cause and would remain so for the rest of his life, he vowed.

The voyage across the Celtic Sea was unremarkable, mainly because by chance they had picked the best month of the summer to sail. Jasmine saw nothing of Falcon during the voyage for his every minute was taken up with his men, their horses, weapons, and supplies, but the last night as they stood at anchor by the Aran Isles awaiting the other s.h.i.+ps, he came to her.

Later, she awoke with a start in the narrow bunk to find his hot mouth pressed against her breast. "Is it very late?" she asked guiltily. "I know you wanted an early start."

"You needed the sleep, I fear I kept you awake most of the night." She blushed and watched him leave the berth to dress and don his armor. Suddenly tears choked her throat. She wanted to hold him so tightly that he would never leave her, but she knew he would hate her tears. She would never cling to him to weaken his resolve. He came to the bed now and sat on the edge, his face hard. She sat up, unmindful of her nakedness in the intensity of the parting.

"You'l stay aboard until al is safe, even if it takes a month!" he commanded. "The captain has his orders to take you back out into safe waters as soon as we're landed."

She searched his face. The only fear she saw there was for her. Suddenly he grinned. "Give me a kiss to spur me on."

"Haven't you had enough?" she asked tremulously.

"Never," he whispered against her mouth.

He stood and she pul ed up the furs to cover herself. "No," he protested, "let me carry a picture of you in al your loveliness."

Chapter 37.

The de Burgh army swept up from the sh.o.r.es of Galway taking al before them in few battles and with fewer injuries. Falcon couldn't have done it with undisciplined men. De Burgh wanted no burned castles, ruined crops, raped women, or looted towns. These people were going to be his people. It was a matter of leaders.h.i.+p.

By the second day he was in possession of Galway Castle; those of Carragh's men who had been left to hold it were dispatched without hesitation, and the Irish kerns, servants, and cooks were given a choice of serving or dying.

Falcon de Burgh stood alone on the ramparts marveling at the heartstopping beauty of the land the pink dawns and lavender dusks, the lushest green meadows he'd ever seen, which couldn't just be a trick of the light. He looked down at the rugged coast behind him and the sound of the waves almost emptied his head. He had a sense of oneness with the land, a feeling of coming home. Connaught was a place to have and to hold forever, like the right woman, like Jasmine.

He looked off across the rol ing hil s and meadows. They should be dotted with sheep and fil ed with rich, milky herds.

He'd see to it. He could travel for a week and stil be on de Burgh land. Connaught . . . he'd make it a world apart or die in the attempt!

Falcon safely ensconced Jasmine and the twins in the castle and put a twenty-four-hour guard around its wal s. He gave the Irish their freedom in exchange for their parole. He wanted them to think they were trusted because it gave a man self- esteem to be on an honor system. Of course he didn't trust them, not yet. Not when tribes were capable of rising in the night to murder those who slept beneath their roof.

Galway was a sizable port, though very poor at the moment.

Tiny fis.h.i.+ng vessels eked out a living, but the trading s.h.i.+ps of the O'Mal eys of adjacent Connemara had stopped sailing into Galway because its people were now too poor to buy or barter goods. The town's former prosperity could be seen by the cobblestone streets lined by neat stone cottages and taverns, which, for the most part, had closed long ago.

De Burgh men now swaggered through the streets, their authority undisputed, their spirits high with the adventure of conquering a new land. The people of Galway were surprised when the castle did not take what it needed, but offered to buy with good coin their catches of fish and fresh hay cut from the fields.

An enterprising couple with a mil wheel began to grind wheat and barley to provide the castle with flour. Flax that hadn't been picked in years was gathered and spun into linen for the refined ladies who lived at Castle Galway. Daily, Falcon sent out hunting parties into the woods and forests where deer and game were abundant.

The Irish peasants had taken only rabbits and hares that could be caught with crude snares; larger game had been ignored for lack of weapons to hunt them. His horses were growing sleek on the sweet green clover, and de Burgh knew he could delay no longer the campaign that would take them up through Roscommon to Boyle where Wil iam and his decimated army had taken refuge. He hand-picked a score of his best men to leave behind in Galway; he wanted no surprises on his return.

Falcon took Tarn aside and spoke to him privately.

"I want you to guard Jasmine while I'm gone. If I don't return or get a message through to you within a month, get her back under Salisbury's protection."

Tarn grinned. "I wager you'l be back in half that time."

Falcon's face was grim and serious. "I hope I haven't picked the wrong man to guard Jasmine. She can be a little b.i.t.c.h and won't hesitate to wrap you around her little finger to get her own way. I want you to become her shadow. Don't let her get farther away from you than a tal man's p.i.s.sing distance," he warned.

He also warned Jasmine severely before he departed.

"Play Tam no tricks. My men wil give their lives to keep you safe for me." He had pledged his sword to Wil iam de Burgh, so to be certain they would get through to Boyle he would take half his men overland. The rest, under Montgomery, would sail up the River Shannon. This necessitated sailing south from Galway to the mouth of the river and fol owing it al the way to Boyle. Though the overland route was shorter, it was by far the more dangerous.

If Falcon was not at Boyle Monastery first, something must have gone wrong, and Montgomery had orders to get Wil iam and his men aboard and sail back to Galway, which was comparatively safe.

In ful armor astride their great war-horses, de Burgh's fighting men met only token resistance, which they overcame with a minimum of bloodshed. The only fierce battle they fought was in a narrow pa.s.s in the woods when they were within a half- day's ride of their destination. When their attackers saw the mettle of the men they were attempting to kil , they fled in boats across the Lough Gara.

Montgomery encountered clear sailing until the River Shannon narrowed at Athlone before opening up into the waters of Lough Ree. There John de Courcy's knights chal enged them, but when he learned they were de Burgh men sailing on King John's s.h.i.+ps, he grudgingly let them pa.s.s without incident.

When Falcon de Burgh's two hundred clattered into the courtyard of the fortress of Boyle Monastery, he was greeted by a man in his own exact image but who was twice his age.

Wil iam de Burgh, powerful y built with the majestic pride of a lion glittering from his crystal-green eyes, welcomed his nephew with frank relief. His pal or was the only indication that he was not enjoying the best of health. Murphy stood at his right hand. He was enough to frighten anyone to death who didn't know him, Falcon thought wryly.

Wil iam introduced him to Crovderg, self-styled king, and Falcon could not help an instant dislike for Che man. Though Crovderg's face was impa.s.sive, it was obvious the dislike was mutual. De Burgh and Crovderg had a hundred soldiers left between them, and Falcon estimated they could have fought their way out if they had been resolute enough and had a strong enough leader.

"How did you come? Were your losses great? Did you meet with much resistance?" asked Wil iam.

"So many questions." Falcon laughed softly. "We sailed into Galway and took the castle. I brought half my force overland, the other half is sailing up the Shannon. There was no resistance to speak of."

At this, Crovderg's dislike turned to hatred. Young de Burgh's disregard for danger seemed nothing short of contempt. The young fool had no sense of caution. He was nonchalant to the point of insolence.

Crovderg said, "You would do wel to fear your enemies. In a new land you don't even know who they are."

De Burgh knew that fear in front of your men was a disastrous, fatal emotion. No wonder they had been holed up here like rats. He shrugged and answered Crovderg, "Caution comes in the planning. Once you are committed you succeed or fail by the strength of your determination and your sword arm."

Wil iam de Burgh longed to be as young again as the man who faced him with al the untamed strength and incaution.

The young man had offered his sword without reservation, and in that moment Wil iam loved him.

Perhaps it was because the Irish soldiers had been caged so long at Boyle, or perhaps it was a natural antipathy that existed between the Anglo-Normans and Crovderg's men, but they constantly rubbed each other's nerves raw, and fistfights were common. Wil iam de Burgh and Captain Murphy acknowledged Falcon now commanded al , but this did not suit Crovderg and his men, who were undisciplined and almost impossible to control.

The monks at the monastery of Boyle brewed an Irish liquor cal ed poteen that was one of the strongest drinks Falcon had ever tasted. He warned Gervase to see that the men used it in moderation. He chafed at having to wait for Montgomery's s.h.i.+ps to arrive. Falcon arose early, as he had done al his life, and for the second morning in a row he was offended by what he saw. The Irish and even some of his own men were sleeping off a heavy drinking bout. The place stank from an occasional pool of vomit and the odd places men had urinated.

De Burgh approached the offending men and put his boots into a soldier's ribs. When he had the attention of al , including Crovderg and his captain, he hooked his thumbs into his belt and said with deliberate contempt, "I see we have a drinking problem."

Crovderg's captain sneered. "We drink, we get drunk, we fal down. No problem."

The contempt in Falcon's eyes changed to amus.e.m.e.nt. He looked from Crovderg to the captain and asked pleasantly, "Which one of you wil be their champion?" Both men were built like bul s with thick necks and ma.s.sive chests, yet de Burgh knew Crovderg would let his man do his dirty work for him. He was relying on the man's natural Irish bel igerence as he grinned and invited, "Would you like to get your hands on me?" He stripped off his s.h.i.+rt and his big, scarred hands knotted into fists. He feinted with his right hand and as his opponent tried to parry the blow de Burgh's left fist smashed into his ribs.

"Yer soft from drink," de Burgh taunted as his opponent lashed out at the dark, handsome face. Falcon ducked and drove in a succession of hammering blows to the gut and ribs.

The raging bul flung himself on de Burgh and hit him in the face, splitting his cheek below the high bone in the same place he wore Jasmine's scar. The captain was no mean opponent, and the two men rol ed over the stones, marking them with blood as they struggled for mastery, exchanging terrible punis.h.i.+ng blows. Then de Burgh was astride him and smashed his driving fist into the captain's jaw. The captain's great bulk helped heave de Burgh off and he managed to find his feet. Falcon knew the man was finished he swayed with eyes swol en closed while de Burgh mercilessly hammered his face until he crashed over backward and lay stil .

Falcon breathed hard and wiped the dripping blood from his face with swol en fists. He looked at the faces gathered about.

"If there is any man who does not wish to obey me, let him speak now. We are de Burghs and you'l have to try to live up to the name."

Wil iam's men were impressed and gave him their instant loyalty. Crovderg's men were fil ed with sul en hatred.

"Now, lads, let's clean up this dung heap," Falcon exclaimed.

When Montgomery arrived and reported clear sailing, Falcon decided to send Wil iam and his men back down the River Shannon by s.h.i.+p. Wil iam eagerly agreed and decided the time was ripe to stop and get Moira and his young sons from Limerick. Falcon decided to accompany him and put Gervase in charge of the men returning overland. He scribbled a quick note to Jasmine tel ing her to prepare for Wil iam, the Lord of Connaught, who would be arriving with his young wife and Connaught, who would be arriving with his young wife and sons to establish their residence at Galway Castle.

Falcon was glad he had chosen to sail down the beauti- ful River Shannon, for halfway down, at a spot cal ed Portumna, he found a place that captured his heart and his imagination. For him magic danced in the air. Just there upon that cliff with a wide view he would build his castle and upon these lush fields he would graze his own horseflesh. From its gray stone tower he would be able to see the whole of magnificent Lough Derg, which must stretch for twenty or thirty miles.

Leaning on the s.h.i.+p's rail with Wil iam, Falcon spoke of his future vision for Portumna. Wil iam waved his hand magnanimously. "Do it, lad ... do it before it's too late, like it is for me. Build your castle; build fifty castles!"

Falcon looked down the centuries in that moment. "I wil ," he said with conviction. "The de Burgh dynasty wil encompa.s.s Connaught with strongholds along the whole border to keep the rest of the world out. What we don't finish, our sons wil .

What they don't finish, our grandsons wil ."

Wil iam knew his sons' legacy would be safe with this man, and he felt a great peace of mind descend upon him. With eyes twinkling, he said, "If you spend al your money on Connaught, you'l have no gold for your sons."

Falcon laughed softly. "My sons wil have a stronger heritage than gold. They'l get their own gold and be better men for it."

Crovderg and his men decided to part forces with the de Burghs. At that, Falcon heaved a hearty sigh of relief. The seeds he had sown had apparently fal en on fertile soil and sprouted, as he intended they should. He had told Crovderg that King John himself would be arriving in Leinster soon, most likely at its capital, Dublin, with a sizable army from al his barons. Since Crovderg had no chance in Hades of defeating John, he must join forces with him.

Falcon was surprised by the soft-spoken Moira with her Freckles and sandy hair. G.o.d's breath, she'd never attract him in a mil ion years, but he conceded she had done wel by Wil iam in breeding him a pair of proud, dark-headed de Burghs worthy of their birthright. Though only eight and nine, they were a sore trial to their mother as they ran from one escapade to another, fearlessly climbing the s.h.i.+p's rigging, then disappearing belowdecks to scramble about between the murderous hooves of the great war-horses.

They immediately adopted Falcon as their model hero and imitated his speech, his walk, and his mannerisms.

No trouble was encountered until late at night when they were sailing past Castle Bunratty in the Shannon estuary. Suddenly the first s.h.i.+p was a.s.sailed by flaming arrows dipped in pitch.

Falcon ordered his s.h.i.+p to weigh anchor. Fifty of his knights disembarked with their horses and he ordered the s.h.i.+ps to proceed. He would join them at Galway only after he had taken the castle. He was furious. Bunratty was a Connaught stronghold, and he already thought of Connaught as his.

Falcon took the offensive he knew no other way to fight and within half an hour his fifty knights were inside the castle's curtain wal . Falcon's horse scattered the coals of the fire used to set their arrows aflame and he felt the soft thud of a body as it fel away from the stal ion's hoofs. Al was in confusion as men ran about in the darkness. The surprise was complete the enemy neatly penned in the courtyard or trapped high on the ramparts. With unsheathed broadswords and knives, his men rounded up the enemy in the center of the yard and lighted bright torches so they could get a good look at each other.

"I am de Burgh of Connaught. By whose authority do you occupy my castle?" Falcon asked incredulously.

Their leader cursed aloud and spoke up. "Meiler fitz Henry, the justiciar of Ireland."

Falcon's eyes narrowed and his voice became dangerously quiet. "You are d.a.m.ned fortunate we didn't slit your throats and send you back to fitz Henry slung across your saddles."

"We were only pa.s.sing through "

"To where?" de Burgh cut off coldly. There was no answer. "If fitz Henry is giving his cronies carte blanche to occupy other men's castles he won't be justiciar long, and you can tel him so." There was an uncomfortable silence then Falcon said, "Wel , you'd better get started. You'l have a long walk to Dublin."

His men were grinning from ear to ear. Falcon was going to keep their horses! Fitz Henry's men marched stiffly through the gates to the accompaniment of whistles and jeers.

Falcon left half his men to hold Bunratty and waved the other twenty-five through the gate. They would ride directly north to Galway. As the last torch was doused, he felt his horse plunge sideways as if to avoid a col ision, then Falcon felt a sharp stab of pain in his shoulder as he took one of the renegade's steel. Numbness began to spread through his body and he heard the clatter of hooves fade away. He put out his arms to grasp his horse's mane, but felt himself fal into blackness. He opened his eyes to see the anxious face of Gower bending close to pad his wound with moss. Another knight held a flask of poteen to his tips. It tasted raw and burned his throat, but it gave him the strength to mount.

" 'Tis good we're stil at Bunratty," said Gower, his face gone pale.

De Burgh shook his head. He couldn't waste his breath on words. "Galway," he said grimly. Gower was appal ed. Galway was sixty or seventy miles off.

Before they even reached Crusheen Falcon's shoulder and arm had begun to throb incessantly. Now he felt light- headed from loss of blood. He gave the stal ion his head and they rode another fifteen miles. At Gort he reined in his horse and slid from the saddle. Again the flask was pressed upon him.

"Take it al , sir." He downed the poteen without stopping; it blunted the edge of the pain.

"Send the men ahead to warn my lady." He had difficulty keeping the words from slurring together.

Gower helped him mount slowly, but it took a concentrated effort for him to stay erect in the saddle. Each jolt of his destrier made the pain seem like burning flames. He was too weary to give any more orders. Al he asked was enough strength to walk into Galway Castle. He did not want to scare Jasmine by being carried into the fortress feet first.

At Oranmore he had to fight the urge to rol from the saddle to the comfort of the gra.s.s. He had begun to feel sick and dizzy with the constant sway of the stal ion's stride. Dawn was lighting the sky by the time he dismounted at Galway Castle.

Gower supported his sagging body. He was half-unconscious when he felt another steadying hand at his side. His eyes licked over Jasmine wearing a red velvet bedrobe, her beautiful hair tumbling wildly about her shoulders. They had him inside now.

He grinned at Jasmine. "Red is good . . . won't show blood."

He sagged against the stone wal and Gervase rushed forward to lift him up to bed. Falcon closed his eyes. He was safe. His love would tend his wound.

Chapter 38.