The Penwyth Curse (Medieval Song 6)

Truth be told, Brecia thought, looking around her, the two of them fit in quite well. Only old people were about, shuffling along, their backs bent, their faces so seamed with lines she wondered if they were as old as some of the ghosts. And how did they get this old?

It wasn’t until they were in the huge great hall that they saw the three women who’d been with the assassins two days before. They were surrounded by old men, one offering them food, another holding out a bowl of water in gnarly, shaking old hands, and a third reverently covering their legs with soft blankets.

Mawdoor suddenly appeared directly in front of them. A trick to impress them, possibly to frighten them as well, Brecia thought, and smiled, a fearsome sight. He said, shuddering a bit at that smile, “Tell me how long it will take you to bring Brecia out of the oak forest.”

“The fact is, my lord, I cannot truly see my path until the full moon shines upon my skinny head. That will be tomorrow night. Then my husband will squeeze my head, and all the secrets I need to bring her forth will flow out of my mouth. I will chew booser berries so my breath will be sweet as the secrets that will pour out of me.”

“If the secrets don’t fall out of your mouth, old crone, you will die, your husband as well, his hands squeezing your skinny head until there is simple air between his palms. Tomorrow night, under the full moon, no later. In the meantime, you will make yourselves useful. Whilst you are preparing yourselves, your husband flexing his hands to strengthen them for the task ahead, you may clean the fortress.” He flicked his fingers in their faces and was gone.

“He likes tricks,” the prince said, stretched, and looked about the immense hall. “At least he won’t try to seduce you, I am very sure of that. I will not lie to you, Brecia—you are very ugly.”

“You are not one to complain of my ugliness, you scrawny old sot. Don’t speak too loudly. Look, one of the women might have heard you.”

“You’re right,” the prince said, looked directly into the woman’s eyes, wide with questions, and very slowly nodded his head once, then twice. The woman blinked, smiled, and patted the broad head of one of the wolfhounds lolling beside her. “Bring me some ale,” she called out. The prince wondered if she was ordering him, but almost immediately another old sot was moving as quickly as he could to get the woman a wooden goblet.

“None of them recognize us,” he said to Brecia.

“Your own mother wouldn’t recognize you,” Brecia said. “Now, let us go to his chamber, to clean it.”

“Aye, I want to see what he’s created for himself. Do you have any idea where we’ll find this vision cask?”

“One old ghost told me that he saw it once, the key in its lock. He said it was a very old chest, no larger than the length of my forearm, as high as my stretched fingers. It is supposedly made of gold and studded with precious gems. It is probably well hidden, so attune yourself to it.”

“Hard to hide anything,” the prince said, “particularly from such as I,” and he followed Brecia up the wooden steps to the upper floor of the fortress.

“Remember to walk slowly and shuffle,” she said over her bent old shoulder, her long, narrow nose quivering as she felt a ruffling of the air around her. It was from him, she knew, and smiled. So he wanted her, did he? She added another crooked line to her wrinkled old face, turned, and gave him a fat smile showing her remaining four teeth.

No more thoughts of lust for him, she thought, and smiled.

Suddenly there was a great wrenching sound, as if stones were being jerked from the very walls, as if the mortar binding them together was being gouged out and thrown aside.

Brecia froze on the wide wooden steps, feeling them shudder beneath her feet.

29

Present

BISHOP COULDN’T BELIEVE she’d picked up her skirts and run from him. Surely she wasn’t afraid of him. He ran out the mouth of the cave, only to have her jump on his back.

She was laughing. Merryn was actually laughing. He felt her kissing his ear, tugging on his hair. His heart was pounding so hard and fast he thought it would burst from his chest. She released him, and he turned to take her in his arms. “I’ve got to have you.” He was panting so hard she could scarce make out his words.

“I know,” she said. “I know.” Oddly, she understood his urgency, his frenzy. It was the curse, and it was pushing and prodding him. And she really didn’t mind it at all. She pressed herself against him. “Bishop,” she said, grabbing his face between her palms. “Bishop, I’ve got to have you, too. Don’t rip my clothes. Here.” She pulled his tunic over his head, saw his violent, heaving breaths, knew he was trying to control himself. Well, it didn’t matter. Merryn leaned forward and kissed his chest. He became still as a rock.

“Come inside the cave.”

As he walked her inside, she kept kissing his chest, nipping at his shoulders, breathing in the taste of him, licking his warm flesh.

She realized the air was warmer, softer, even as she pulled down his trousers. His sex was hard, ready. He was in bad shape, she realized that—she, the girl who’d had no experience at all before twenty-four hours ago. It was amazing. There were so many things she didn’t yet understand, but none of these things mattered a whit to her now. “It’s all right,” she said, and watched him kick away his trousers.

“Merryn,” he said, and he was on her, pulling her onto her back, jerking up her gown, looking down at her, and then his hands were on the insides of her thighs, stroking her, feeling her flesh, and he closed his eyes, his head back, whilst he felt her, and his fingers went higher and higher, to touch her, and he nearly spilled his seed at the feel of her warm woman’s flesh. By all the saints’ faint hearts, he hurt, hurt so much that he clenched his teeth against taking her violently. Merryn lay there on her back, smiling up at him, trusting him. He moved his fingers over her, stroking her and soon, so very soon, she lurched up at the intense sing of her blood roaring through her. It was lust, and it was on her as well as on Bishop. How very odd it all was. She let herself sink with the weight of her own need. She raised her hips, let him cup her in his big hands, and she said his name. He came deeply into her.

Knowing he was again inside her body made her want to cry with the wonder of it. Then it made her wild; she accepted it, reveled in it and wanted more. She clasped her legs around his flanks and jerked him down to her.

He was pushing, deep, deeper, then withdrawing. He was in control again, finally, and he looked down at her face and smiled. “This is beyond what a man could imagine. Just a moment, Merryn, just give me another moment,” and he was gone from her, his head thrown back, and he yelled to the cave ceiling, and it reverberated off the walls and echoed to the depths of the cave, echoed into time itself.

She felt a humming deep inside her, knew it was something different, apart from her, but she still felt it, that odd humming, and feelings leapt about, stirring her, and she felt an incredible desire to rear up and bite his chin, his earlobe. She began kissing him again, her need suddenly as great as his had been. She shoved upward, taking him off guard, and he fell backward. “No, don’t move,” she said, her voice as fierce and as mad as his had been. She splayed her hands on his chest as she looked down at him, wanting, wanting, and she brought him even deeper. He was hard again, filling her, just like that, or maybe he had never left her, even for a moment. She grabbed his hand and placed it against her, felt his fingers stroking her, and it was her turn to throw her head back and yell. He was with her, and his cry came together with hers, echoing in the warm air. The strange humming softened inside her, flattened to become nothing but the soft air she was sucking in. She lay there on top of him, hearing the echoes of voices—or maybe they weren’t voices at all, but the sound of her heart singing. It didn’t matter.

Bishop felt the ground move, shift hard beneath them. It didn’t stop, it became more intense. He held Merryn tightly against him. By all the saints’ crooked teeth, was the earth was going to break apart with its violent tremors? Then, suddenly, all the shuddering and shaking seemed far away, not really touching them now, even though he knew it was happening.