The Lady Of The Storm Part 9

She mumbled in her sleep and rolled over. Giles carefully wrapped the cloak back around her and then took off at a near run, eyeing the still pond for only a moment before diving in.

Egads!

The cold nearly stole his breath but succeeded in cooling his unmanageable rod, so he swam about, looking for any sign of danger. But the monster had disappeared, along with the blood that had tainted the water last night.

Which did not mean that Breden of Dewhame didn't have other nasty creatures hunting for his half-breed.

He climbed out of the pond, sluiced the water off his skin with his hands, checked his breeches to see if they had dried. Already blackened and now stiff from their dunking, he tossed them away with a grimace, returning to camp and digging out another pair of leathers. His blackened coat would have to do, for he had nothing left but a suit of broadcloth to wear when he reached London.

The back of Giles's neck tingled, and he turned to find Cecily watching him with those enormous blue eyes of hers.

"You're awake." He tried for jolliness, but did not quite succeed. Her gaze traveled from the top of his wet head, lingered on his bare chest, and then hovered somewhere about his knees. He felt as if she'd raked him with live coals.

"You must be hungry." He dug through the ashes at the edge of the fire and retrieved the fish he'd buried there last night. She quickly sat up, holding the cloak over her chest, the deep glaze in her eyes fading as he handed her the parcel.

"Eat," he urged, unwrapping his own leaves and pulling out the white meat. It fell off the bones, almost too tender.

She followed his lead, albeit taking smaller bites. He pa.s.sed her the waterskin, watching her throat move in fascination as she swallowed.

d.a.m.n, now he could barely manage to look at her.

She did not eat much. "I don't feel well."

"I'm not surprised. You expended a healthy dose of magic last night and I'm thinking you took quite a blow to the head. It took some time for you to come around."

"I do not... I don't remember much. Except for the shark..."

"Ah, well, I'm not sure if we could call it that."

She sighed. "Another monster. Is the world so full of them, then?"

Giles grinned. "I hope so." But he quickly sobered at the sad expression crossing her face. "Cecily, that was one of your father's-Breden of Dewhame's creations. He never would have trespa.s.sed so far into another elven lord's sovereignty unless he felt it worth the risk."

She s.h.i.+vered, holding the cloak more tightly against her. "You think he's looking for me?"

"I do. Although I can't be sure if it's you specifically, or if he's heard of your magic and is just blindly seeking the wielder... but we should avoid contact with any body of water until we reach London."

She nodded, and Giles worried about her listlessness. Perhaps she needed more time to heal. "Does anything hurt? I mean, in particular?"

Cecily shrugged. "I just don't feel like myself."

"We can stay here and rest a few days..."

She glanced over at the pond and shuddered. "No. No, let's move on. If I cannot be in water until we reach London, I would like to get there as quickly as possible."

Giles nodded. He'd hated to suggest it, for he knew how miserable it would make her to stay out of her element. But he could not risk any more harm to her until he delivered her into the hands of Sir Robert.

He stood to retrieve her clothing, which still lay on the gra.s.s near the pond, but her voice stayed him.

"Giles. I seem to recall... you kept me warm. And you said some things..."

He had spoken from his heart in the heat of the moment, and now that his head ruled once more, he felt grateful she had not heard his words.

"I a.s.sured you that you were safe with me. That is all."

"I see. I owe you my thanks. For saving my life-even if you value it only for England's sake."

His jaw grew rigid in sudden anger. He could not understand why. "I value you for your own sake, Cecily. And mine. Never doubt it." And he strode away, picking up his s.h.i.+rt that still lay near the pond, the cloth warmed by the sun and feeling heavenly as he shrugged it on. He fetched her clothing, liking the way the soft cloth felt in his hands, and returned it to her, neither one of them meeting the other's gaze.

Giles left their campsite to give her privacy, and checked his snares, satisfied to see he'd caught two fat hares. He tied them into a bundle and looked forward to roasting them for dinner.

Apollo came swiftly to his call, Belle right behind, and he had them saddled by the time Cecily finished dressing.

He helped her mount, remembering the silky feel of her skin against his as he lifted her into the saddle. Her face looked pale and she swayed a bit in the seat.

"Perhaps you should ride with me."

She shook her head, the long black braid she'd woven in her hair swinging across her back. "I'll manage."

Giles shrugged and mounted Apollo, setting off through the trees at a slow pace, constantly glancing behind to make sure she remained in her seat. It would have been easier if she'd just agreed to ride with him, although he couldn't help but admire her fort.i.tude.

Sunlight filtered through the canopy overhead, mostly giant oaks with a few elms sprinkled throughout. A mist wove its way through the thick trunks and gave the forest an ethereal quality that kept Giles quiet, searching for enemies, magical or human. They stumbled upon some brambles around noon and he called a halt.

Cecily slid from her horse more gracefully than she'd managed yesterday, and began to pluck the juicy berries and pop them into her mouth. Giles joined her, and in companionable silence they fought the bees for their feast.

He pa.s.sed her the waterskin and studied her face. Although she still looked pale, a rosy blush tinted her cheeks and her lips had been dyed a deep red from the berries. He fought the urge to kiss them to see if they tasted of wine. "How are you feeling, my lady?"

"Better."

"Good. We still have a long ride ahead."

But despite her words, when they reached the end of the Hants and entered into Surrey he turned in his saddle to find her swaying precariously. He leaped and caught her before she hit the ground, thanking his ancestors for his elven speed.

Giles ignored her protests as he lifted her onto Apollo, loosely wrapping Belle's reins around the pommel so the mare could follow unhindered. He swung up behind Cecily and settled on his horse's rump. "I cannot watch you and look for danger at the same time."

She leaned back against his chest and sighed. "I don't know what's wrong with me. Perhaps I hit my head harder than I thought."

Giles breathed in the scent of her, wrapping one arm about her waist and holding the reins with the other. She felt soft and warm and he tried not to think about how natural it seemed to hold her in his arms.

"I think it's more than that," he said, tapping Apollo's sides to get the horse moving again.

"Of course," she grumbled. "You know me better than I know myself."

Giles frowned. Now why should that annoy the little minx? "I just know your affinity to the water. Perhaps because your magic is so tied to it, your body and mind are, as well. I cannot remember a day when you did not swim in the ocean."

She stiffened. "Giles."

"Yes?"

"I cannot hear the waves."

"Cecily, we have not been near the ocean for days."

"I know, I know. Yet I have always heard them in my mind. But I cannot any longer."

A note of panic edged her voice.

Giles searched the countryside for any sign of stream or fountain, for he had only been looking for danger and not comfort. But they rode through the sovereignty of Firehame, and despite the natural greenery of Surrey, the elven lord's magic dotted the landscape. Pockets of fire sprung amongst meadows carpeted with b.u.t.tercups, alongside the road, between hill and dale. Flame trees crowded against beech and chestnut, their fiery red leaves flickering in the breeze like the flame of a million candles.

It made him feel hot, dry, and parched. He could only imagine how it affected Cecily, who had thrived in the wet land of Dewhame.

Giles reached for his waterskin, pa.s.sing it to her. "Drink. Every few minutes I want you to take a sip. We will stop at the next stream and you will swim."

She turned her head and looked up at him. "But I thought you said-"

"I have changed my mind. We are far beyond the point where Breden of Dewhame will dare invade with his magic." At least, Giles hoped. But he would rather fight another monster than watch her wither away.

He had avoided farmsteads or villages, often leaving the road to find a path through the woodlands. But they did not stumble upon a body of water large enough for Cecily to bathe in, and toward nightfall he finally woke her.

"Do you smell water?"

She straightened abruptly. "Where are we?"

He smiled. She had dozed against him for most of the day. "Still in Surrey, but close to the Thames, I think. At least, it seems to be wetter and cooler."

She took in a deep breath. "Yes, I feel it. But too far away."

"A runoff then?"

One elegant finger pointed to a rise of land within the forest. Giles urged Apollo forward, frowning as the horse labored up the slope. Odd, he would expect a pool at the base of a hill, not the top, for water ran ever downward. Perhaps on the other side...

But when they reached the crest of the rise a small waterfall tinkled merrily over some fallen stones, a crystal pool forming within a ring of standing stones nearly thrice his height. Cecily slid from the saddle and flew across the thatch of thick gra.s.s and clover within that protective circle, bending to scoop up the clear water and bury her face in it.

Giles hesitated. He'd heard about the ancient circles of stone that dotted England. Older than the coming of the elven lords, they were rumored to be places of power erected by England's true ancestors. Some offered protection, while others might open a gateway to... ah, he did not know. But when the elven lords brought magic to England, it changed more than just the landscape.

But Apollo had enough of his dallying and made for the spring, Belle right behind, and Giles placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, waiting for a tremor of antic.i.p.ation. Despite his blade having an annoying b.l.o.o.d.y will of its own, it did serve to warn him of any danger.

But it lay quiescent in his scabbard, nary a sound or movement to indicate antic.i.p.ation of battle, magic or otherwise.

So he dismounted while Apollo slurped rather noisily, washed the dust from his own face, and watched Cecily from the corner of his eyes.

Her hands sifted through the water as if it were gold.

"It's not large enough for you to swim in," he said, "but I imagine it will make a creditable bath."

She turned and smiled, her enormous eyes glowing in the twilight. A funny feeling spread through him at the knowledge that he'd brought that smile to her face.

He swallowed. "I'll just, um, make camp. See to the horses."

She nodded and he scooped up Apollo's reins, making his way back through the circle of stones, the ground beneath him feeling like a spongy cus.h.i.+on. From the vantage of the rise, he would be able to spot anyone or anything creeping up on them. He shrugged off his superst.i.tion and decided the place made for a good camp.

He kept his back to Cecily, his imagination filling in the sight of her nude body in the crystal water, the waning moon turning her skin to glowing ivory.

Devil-a-bit, he needed a woman! And soon. Tomorrow they would be in London and he would visit a bawdy house at his first opportunity.

Maybe that would get Cecily out of his blood, if not quite out of his heart.

Giles froze, saddle in hand.

He did not... he could not... Yes, he would admit he had a soft spot for her. How could he not, after being her protector all of these years? He knew her ways, the gentleness of her soul, the habits that he found endearing. Becoming fond of her only allowed him to perform his task better, so why not?

That did not mean that he loved her. He could never love- "Giles?"

"Yes?" He dropped the saddle, but did not turn.

"Can you bring me my sack? I have washed this dress and would like to change into the other while I let it dry."

d.a.m.n.

He untied it from Belle's saddle, which he'd yet to remove, and strode over to the pond, his eyes downcast, placing it on a stone near the water.

"I find it most amusing," she said, "that after years of spying upon me, you can now be so shy."

He flushed. Looked up. She sat on the bottom of the pool, water barely covering her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her hair spread about her, looking like some beautiful naiad who could steal his soul with the curve of her mouth, the crook of her finger.

"I gave you your privacy for your sake, my lady. I have already seen all that you have to offer."

Gads, she looked as if he'd struck her, but he had not said the words harshly, indeed, his voice had held a teasing note. Feeling like a complete dunderhead, he turned on his heel and walked away.

He busied himself with the fire, with the horses, and when she returned fully dressed to sit upon the blanket he'd laid out for her, he went back to the stream, cleaning and gutting the hares. Giles roasted them and they smelled delicious. His stomach rumbled as he turned them on his makes.h.i.+ft spit, and he watched Cecily surrept.i.tiously, for she drew a comb slowly through her hair, a sight he could not resist. Her eyes half-closed with pleasure, her lips parted slightly while she drew the comb through the gleaming black strands. He'd watched her perform the simple task for years and had never witnessed another woman move with such sensual grace at the doing of it.

Like the first night they had spent together, he had laid out their blankets on opposite sides of the fire, and when they finished eating he lay down on his, staring up at the stars. Last night he had held her in his arms, and throughout most of the day. He felt oddly bereft at the moment.

"I did not mean..." He never had difficulty finding the right words with a woman. Except for this one. He sighed. "You have a great deal to offer, Cecily. To any man."

"But not to you."

"No. You are meant for someone better than I. And I... I am meant for a life of danger in service of the Rebellion."

"I see."

But he thought she did not. Nor could he say anything more. 'Twould only make the tension between them worse.

He had given her his cloak again, but she did not need it this night. Indeed, the air felt so warm that he allowed the fire to dwindle to red coals. The sound of roots tearing from the soil and teeth chomping on the sweet clover reminded him that the horses would alert him to any danger, so he allowed exhaustion to overtake him when he heard Cecily's deep breathing.

Still, he drew his blade before he fell asleep, keeping it in his hand. He did not trust that Breden's soldiers had given up. Or that spies might not be trailing them. Or that the innocent-looking stones that surrounded them might not conjure up some dreaded beast...

His sword woke him.