Home > Born of the Night(8)

Born of the Night(8)
Author: Amanda Ashley

"I find that hard to believe. She has ever been kind to me. What did your father do that made her so angry?"

"He was a handsome man, my father. She wanted a son and wished for him to sire it. When he refused to betray my mother, Melena set a curse upon him."

"Did your father try to break the spell?"

"Aye. My father went to Melena and pleaded with her to release him. But she refused. A year later, after my mother had conceived, my father went to Montiori and begged him to order Melena to break the spell. Your father promised he would do so, but first he wanted to see my father undergo the change. My father agreed. During the next full moon, he went to your father's keep, and when the moon rose, he transformed into a wolf. And your father killed him."

She fell silent, thinking of what Reyes had told her. It explained why he was not married. What woman would marry a man knowing that her sons would inherit the same dreadful affliction?

"Why did your father have to wait for the full moon? Could he not change at will?"

"No, though I do not know why." He shrugged. "Perhaps the curse gets stronger with time."

Though the day was cool, a fine sheen of sweat covered Reyes's face and chest. His steps had slowed. His skin was hot when her arm brushed against his.

"You've a fever," she said.

He nodded.

"You should rest."

He glanced at her, bemused by her concern. Would she care whether he lived or died if she knew what he had planned for her? "The keep is just over that rise," he said. "I'll rest there."

She didn't argue. If he fainted along the way, so much the better for her. It would give her yet another chance to try to escape.

But he didn't faint.

They were nearing the crest of the hill when a dozen riders appeared. The men halted a short distance away.

"My lord!" one of them called. "We have been searching for you since daybreak."

The man closest to them dismounted. "Here, my lord, take my horse."

With a nod, Reyes put his foot in the stirrup. He took a deep breath, then swung his leg over the saddle. "Bring the woman." Clucking to the horse, he rode toward the castle.

The rider who had given Reyes his mount lifted Shanara onto the back of one of the other horses. The knights followed their lord back to the castle. The riderless knight ran behind them.

Shanara let out a sigh as they rode through the gates into the keep. She was his prisoner yet again.

Chapter 5

Shanara followed one of Reyes's men up the stairs. He showed her to a room where the two gray-clad women who had looked after her before awaited. She frowned, trying to remember their names. Beatrice and Alyce, if she recalled aright. In less time than she would have thought possible, the maids had removed her clothing, washed her from neck to heel, and then wrapped her in a towel.

"Now," said Beatrice, tapping her foot. "What shall she wear?"

"The mauve velvet," said Alyce.

Beatrice shook her head. She was the elder of the two, with brown hair, gray eyes, and a sweet, motherly face. "Nay, Alyce, the green silk. It matches her eyes, and you know it is Lord Reyes's favorite color."

"Then I shall wear the mauve," Shanara decided. She had not missed the smirk on Alyce's face.

"Will you not reconsider?" Beatrice asked hopefully. She ran her hand over the green silk. " 'Tis a lovely gown."

Shanara shook her head. "The mauve."

With a sigh of resignation, Beatrice helped Shanara into the mauve gown. She brushed Shanara's hair until it gleamed, then swept it away from her face with a pair of jeweled combs.

"You look lovely," Beatrice declared. "Does she not, Alyce?"

The younger woman nodded sullenly.

"Come along," Beatrice said, and Shanara followed her down the corridor to a door she recognized all too well. It led to his bedchamber.

With a smile, Beatrice opened the door. When Shanara didn't move, the woman gave her a little push, then shut the door behind her.

The room was dark and smelled of candle wax and herbs. A fire blazed in the hearth. She took a step toward the huge four-poster bed in the center of the room.

Reyes lay under a mound of heavy blankets. As she drew nearer, she could hear the sound of his labored breathing. His brow was covered with perspiration.

Moving to his bedside, she called his name.

He stirred restlessly at the sound of her voice.

Shanara laid her hand on his shoulder. His skin was hot. Now that she was close, she could see that the wound in his arm was discolored and swollen. He groaned when she ran her fingertips over the wound.

Leaving the room, she went down to the kitchen. The cook looked up, startled to find a stranger in her domain.

"I need some hot water," Shanara said, "and a pot of strong willowbark tea. I also need a poultice to draw poison from a wound, a sharp knife, and a needle and thread."

"Who are you to give me orders in my own kitchen?" the cook demanded, waving a big wooden spoon in Shanara's face. "Begone from my kitchen this instant!"

Holding her ground, Shanara drew herself up to her full height. "If you refuse to do as I ask and Lord Reyes surrenders to the fever burning within him, his death will be upon your head."

The cook's eyes widened, then, without another word, she began to fill a clean pot with water.

Certain her orders would be obeyed, Shanara returned to Reyes's bedchamber. Crossing the room, she threw open one of the windows, then dragged all but one of the blankets off the bed.

It took her a moment to realize he was awake and watching her through narrowed eyes.

Filling a glass with water, Shanara lifted Reyes's head and offered him a drink. "Slowly, now," she admonished.

He drained the glass and asked for more.

"Why is there no one here to tend you?" she asked, surprised that the lord of the keep would be left alone when he was obviously ill. "Why do you not call your physician?"

"I sent him away."

"Why?"

He glanced at the open window. "The moon will be full tonight."

She nodded her understanding. "But surely, when you're so ill, the curse will not come upon you."

"I do not know. It is a chance I cannot take. There are but few who know that the curse is more than just a fable told to frighten children."

Frowning, she looked at him closely. His face seemed hairy, but it was only because he had not shaved. Wasn't it? "Why did you summon me?"

"I may have need of your help later."

"You have need of help now," she muttered.

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