The Penwyth Curse (Medieval Song 6)

When Brecia came to herself, she didn’t know where they were—she just knew they weren’t lying above her bed. She was on top of him, he was still inside her, and she was content.

He was kissing her ear, licking, nibbling at her earlobe. He said, his voice deep, almost an echo, “What you and I do, Brecia, it is only tricks and games. But this”—he squeezed her hard—“this is the magic, the madness.”

“Where are we?”

He said after a moment, surprise in his voice, “I don’t know.” But then he did know, and he was pleased with himself, with his instincts.

“It doesn’t matter. We can breathe and talk and it’s warm. I can feel the warmth on my flesh.”

She was still on top of him, lying flat now just as she had when she’d pressed her heart against his, taking the wound, the pain, the blood, into her. She leaned down and kissed his mouth.

“You could have died, you stupid witch.”

Since she was kissing him, his words slurred into her mouth, and she bit his tongue. She said to him as she nipped his nose, his chin, “I see. So you would have let me die if I’d been the one hurt? You’d have done nothing?”

“I know spells, I know potions. I would have done something that would have saved you.”

“That is a good thing to know.”

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her very tight against him. They were naked and he felt his seed on her belly and her legs. “You conceived my son,” he said, and squeezed her again. A wizard’s squeeze this time, and she yelped.

“Don’t break my ribs, you fool.”

“I, a fool? I was not the one who attacked you, Brecia. Actually, I would have gotten around to it, but I was still lying there, wondering if I would live or die and wanting to beat you for what you’d done. Hmmm. I have never known a woman to attack a man before.”

“I don’t know what came over me,” she said, but there was pride in her voice and wickedness, and he smiled as he kissed her throat.

“Whatever came over you can come again and again.” He lifted her so he could kiss her breasts. He breathed in deeply, licked her soft flesh, and pulled her tightly to him again. “Attack me, Brecia, whenever it pleases you to do so.”

“All right,” she said, and he felt her smile against his cheek. “There is only one thing that concerns me, prince. It would appear that you don’t know much about dealing with mortal men. Just look what happened—one of them managed to stick a knife in your black heart. It just doesn’t seem possible.”

He said slowly, “It didn’t seem possible to me either, until I realized that they weren’t men, though they were mortals, vicious ones.”

“What do you mean they weren’t men?”

“I realized that Mawdoor gave them a bit of power by enhancing their skills beyond the ordinary, adding to their strength. He hoped it would be enough to kill me.”

“Thank the ghosts that the power he gave them wasn’t enough. Do you really believe you impregnated me, prince?”

She was on her elbows above him, and she was looking at his mouth. He smiled at her, touched his fingertips to her chin, the tip of her nose. “Aye, my child is in your womb. I will not be such a fool again. If there is to be a next time, I will be the one protecting you, Brecia.”

She felt a sudden chill, or maybe it was a ruffle of wind through her hair, drying her sweat and his as well. “I don’t like this,” she said, sniffing the air. “I want to know where we are.”

He didn’t answer her. She stared down at him, realized he was still inside her, hard again. She could feel herself stretching around him. His breath was warm in her face, and he wanted her.

“We’re in a cave,” he said finally, yawned, and was even harder than just the moment before. “We’re in my cave.”

“Your cave? You have a cave? How could that be possible? Which cave is your cave? There are no caves in my oak forest.”

“No, there are no caves in your forest. I suppose this is where I always felt safe when I was young. The cave isn’t very deep, so there was never any fear of monsters or enemies hiding to come upon me and slay me. Aye,” he said, “I somehow brought you here to my cave.”

“It’s warm, the air is warm. It smells sweet, like newly grown grass.”

“Aye, all of that. I just brought you a breath of breeze. Did you feel it?”

“It dried our sweat. And you even brought blankets for us to lie on.”

“Aye, I did. In your bed, if you will remember, once you began having your way with me, I never touched it. You brought me off your bed, Brecia, with your lust.”