Legendary Warrior (Warrior 1)

Reena rubbed a contented Horace behind the ear, gave him a piece of the tart, and continued rubbing him. “Where would you like me to start in the keep?”

Magnus watched the way Reena lovingly stroked the pup, and he actually envied the small animal. Her long, slim fingers ruffled the pup’s fur behind his ear, then she rubbed beneath his chin. Finally she stroked his head and told him how wonderful he was, then finished with a hug. The dog lay contentedly at her feet and went fast to sleep.

He felt foolish indeed, that he wished he could feel her hands on him in such a caring and loving manner. The thought lingered.

“Would you walk the battlements with me? We can see the land and the distance it stretches, and any repair work that needs attention.”

“A good choice. I will map the battlements with the view of the surrounding land, though I suggest we go now while the storm brews. I can sketch a quick outline and then work on a more formal map later.”

Reena disturbed Horace when she stood, and he slowly stretched himself awake, yawned, walked closer to the warm hearth, plopped down and went back to sleep.

Magnus shook his head at the pup.

“I need to collect my charcoal and paper from my room,” Reena said. “I can meet you on the battlements.”

“We need to pass your room to reach the battlements. I will go with you.”

Her room was one floor below his, and when he entered he realized how much it reflected her character. The table held several inkwells and quills. Papers were piled to one side, and five candles lined the front edge, supplying sufficient light for drawing.

Her bed would fit two people, and a chest rested at the foot of the bed, a green wool blanket folded neatly on top. The two pegs on the one wall held a few meager garments, which would soon be replaced by new garments he was having made for her against her objections. She had no choice though; she was in his service and would dress accordingly.

He watched her hurry to gather her things, and he marveled at her graceful motions. It was as though her body movement was a constant dance, precise and fluid, like the strokes of her quill.

His thoughts instantly took flight, and he imagined how her fluid motion would enhance lovemaking. The easy bend and sway of her hips, the graceful arching of her back, the full thrust of her breasts, the softness of her lips—he shut his eyes.

Their lovemaking would be like creating a work of art, each movement a precise stroke, delicate at times, fast and furious strokes at other times, yet all blending and creating and—

He jumped at her touch, his eyes opening in a flash.

Her hand lay on his arm. “Are you all right?”

He felt the warmth of her hand through his shirt, and her simple touch stirred his blood all the more, making him ache to return the touch, but not in kind. His touch would be intimate, much too intimate.

He reluctantly stepped away from her. “I am fine, lost in my thoughts.”

“I often get lost in my thoughts, though I must admit I like where I get lost.”

He grinned. “Aye, I like where I get lost as well.”

“Perhaps one day we can get lost together and see where it takes us.”

Her smile spoke of innocence; his smile spoke of sin, and they left the room both lost in opposite thoughts.

The wind had picked up and the sky had darkened considerably by the time they reached the battlements. Reena knew she had little time to sketch, but if she could hurry and do a few rough views with detailed notes, she would at least have something to transfer to a map. And with this weather change, the mapping would keep her occupied.

She anxiously set to work while Magnus gave the battlements a quick survey.

“Several of the crenel shutters need replacing; I want to make certain my men are well protected during a siege.”

She sketched as he spoke and felt the first faint snowflake touch her face. It brought a smile of happiness to her, for the winter would not be one of struggle to survive. Everyone would be warm, and food would be plentiful. Life would be good again.

Reena hurried her sketching and took in all she could with quick glances and mental notes, while the snowflakes swirled around her.

With a sweeping glance Magnus surveyed his land. He was finally here; he had waited and planned, and he was here. He felt a sense of pride and accomplishment, though there was more yet to be done, and he would not rest until all his plans saw fruition.

The snow had grown heavy, the snowflakes fat and beginning to cover the battlement. It would not be long before the land was covered with the fresh white snow.