all.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Neither did Ariane.”
Erik gave his sister a shrewd look.
“What else did you sense of Ariane’s
truth?” Erik asked.
“Nothing I could put words to. And even if I
could, I would not. What lies within Ariane’s soul is hers to
share or conceal.”
“Even from her husband?” Duncan
asked.
“Yes.”
Duncan made a frustrated sound and raked powerfulfingers through his thatch of dark brown
hair.
“I like it not,” Duncan growled
again.
“Don’t fret, my friend,” Simon
said. “Ariane was protecting me.”
Duncan gave the lithe knight a surprised look and
then laughed aloud.
“Protecting you ?” Duncan asked in disbelief.
“Aye,” Simon said with an odd smile.
“A beguiling thought, is it not, to be protected by a fierce
little nightingale?”
“But what danger could come to you within the
walls of Stone Ring Keep?” Duncan asked.
“I’ll remember to ask
Ariane…eventually.”
With that, Simon turned to follow his wife.
“Wait!” called Amber. “It is
customary for a bride’s relatives to prepare her for the
groom.”
“As Ariane has neither sister nor mother,
niece nor aunt, she will just have to make do with the
groom,” Simon said without looking back.
“But—”
“Do not worry, Amber witch. I won’t
tear Ariane’s magnificent dress in my haste.”
7
I f I cut my
throat, how can I be certain of doing a thorough job of
it ?
Ariane thought of all the horrible tales she had
heard of knights and battles. While there was plenty of gore in all
the stories, the blood had been drawn by warriors wielding
battle-axe and hammer, broadsword and lance.
Next to such weapons, the dainty dagger gleaming in
her hand seemed a joke.
God’s teeth! Is the
cursed blade even long enough to reach my heart ?
While Ariane stared at the dagger’s elegant
silver blade, the dress shimmered and curled caressingly around her
legs like a cat begging to be noticed.
Ariane’s thoughts scattered.
Distracted, she began pacing the small room, not
even noticing that Blanche had forgotten to kindle the fire in the
hearth. As a result, the room had a winter chill, as though all
heat had been sucked from the thick stone walls.
Why was I born a woman, with
none of a warrior’s strength or skill in piercing
flesh ?
The wind gusted. The draperies around the bed
stirred vaguely. Ariane’s dress moved restively no matter
what the wind did.
Even without that evil potion
Geoffrey put in my wine, I would have had no chance against
him .
Simon would have .
Ariane’s quick steps paused.
“Aye,” she said softly. “Simon.
So strong. So quick. Even Geoffrey’s murderous skill with the
sword would be hard put to equal Simon’s
swiftness.”
Again came the thought that had haunted Ariane
throughout the wedding ceremony.
Simon .
I cannot kill him. Nor would
I, even if I could. I must be the one to die .
But how? What can I do to make
Simon strike me down ?
Ariane couldn’t think of a time he had ever
lifted a hand to an unruly hound, much less to the highborn heiress
who had been first Duncan’s betrothed, then
Simon’s.
With a muttered word, Ariane resumed pacing,
ignoring the soft folds of dress that seemed determined to slow
her. Nothing she could think of seemed sufficient to disturb
Simon’s self-control. He would fight only on the order of his
lord and brother.
Or to defend
himself .
Ariane came to a complete stop. Motionless, she
stood in the center of the room, turning the insight over and over
in her mind even as she turned the dagger over in her hands.
Would he see me as enough of a
threat to kill me ?
The idea almost made her laugh. Simon’s power
and skill were so great that he would probably hurt himself
laughing if she attacked him with the dagger.
Somehow, she would have to take him unawares, a
move so swift that he wouldn’t have time to think.
And laugh.
A man gone on drink has no
control over himself. Many toasts have been drunk
“I don’t like it.”
“Neither did Ariane.”
Erik gave his sister a shrewd look.
“What else did you sense of Ariane’s
truth?” Erik asked.
“Nothing I could put words to. And even if I
could, I would not. What lies within Ariane’s soul is hers to
share or conceal.”
“Even from her husband?” Duncan
asked.
“Yes.”
Duncan made a frustrated sound and raked powerfulfingers through his thatch of dark brown
hair.
“I like it not,” Duncan growled
again.
“Don’t fret, my friend,” Simon
said. “Ariane was protecting me.”
Duncan gave the lithe knight a surprised look and
then laughed aloud.
“Protecting you ?” Duncan asked in disbelief.
“Aye,” Simon said with an odd smile.
“A beguiling thought, is it not, to be protected by a fierce
little nightingale?”
“But what danger could come to you within the
walls of Stone Ring Keep?” Duncan asked.
“I’ll remember to ask
Ariane…eventually.”
With that, Simon turned to follow his wife.
“Wait!” called Amber. “It is
customary for a bride’s relatives to prepare her for the
groom.”
“As Ariane has neither sister nor mother,
niece nor aunt, she will just have to make do with the
groom,” Simon said without looking back.
“But—”
“Do not worry, Amber witch. I won’t
tear Ariane’s magnificent dress in my haste.”
7
I f I cut my
throat, how can I be certain of doing a thorough job of
it ?
Ariane thought of all the horrible tales she had
heard of knights and battles. While there was plenty of gore in all
the stories, the blood had been drawn by warriors wielding
battle-axe and hammer, broadsword and lance.
Next to such weapons, the dainty dagger gleaming in
her hand seemed a joke.
God’s teeth! Is the
cursed blade even long enough to reach my heart ?
While Ariane stared at the dagger’s elegant
silver blade, the dress shimmered and curled caressingly around her
legs like a cat begging to be noticed.
Ariane’s thoughts scattered.
Distracted, she began pacing the small room, not
even noticing that Blanche had forgotten to kindle the fire in the
hearth. As a result, the room had a winter chill, as though all
heat had been sucked from the thick stone walls.
Why was I born a woman, with
none of a warrior’s strength or skill in piercing
flesh ?
The wind gusted. The draperies around the bed
stirred vaguely. Ariane’s dress moved restively no matter
what the wind did.
Even without that evil potion
Geoffrey put in my wine, I would have had no chance against
him .
Simon would have .
Ariane’s quick steps paused.
“Aye,” she said softly. “Simon.
So strong. So quick. Even Geoffrey’s murderous skill with the
sword would be hard put to equal Simon’s
swiftness.”
Again came the thought that had haunted Ariane
throughout the wedding ceremony.
Simon .
I cannot kill him. Nor would
I, even if I could. I must be the one to die .
But how? What can I do to make
Simon strike me down ?
Ariane couldn’t think of a time he had ever
lifted a hand to an unruly hound, much less to the highborn heiress
who had been first Duncan’s betrothed, then
Simon’s.
With a muttered word, Ariane resumed pacing,
ignoring the soft folds of dress that seemed determined to slow
her. Nothing she could think of seemed sufficient to disturb
Simon’s self-control. He would fight only on the order of his
lord and brother.
Or to defend
himself .
Ariane came to a complete stop. Motionless, she
stood in the center of the room, turning the insight over and over
in her mind even as she turned the dagger over in her hands.
Would he see me as enough of a
threat to kill me ?
The idea almost made her laugh. Simon’s power
and skill were so great that he would probably hurt himself
laughing if she attacked him with the dagger.
Somehow, she would have to take him unawares, a
move so swift that he wouldn’t have time to think.
And laugh.
A man gone on drink has no
control over himself. Many toasts have been drunk
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