She remained stiff in his arms, shivering from his nearness. She felt small and helpless in his embrace. It was frightening, to be held by this stranger, to know she was alone in his house, totally at his mercy. He had told her he wanted her there to sing for him, but what if it was a lie? She knew little of men, but she knew there were some who were cruel, who took women by force. Was that why Darkfest had brought her here? Should he decide to ravish her, what defense would she have?
"Ye have nothing to fear from me, Channa Leigh," he said, and his voice was low, almost like a growl. "I mean ye no harm."
His voice moved over her, easing her tension, making her feel safe and drowsy. Her head felt suddenly heavy and she rested it on his shoulder. His hand stroked her back, gentling her. His hair brushed her cheek; it was thick and silky, like the wolf's fur. A distant part of her mind noticed that she fit in his lap quite nicely, that his hands, though twice the size of hers, were gentle.
For a moment, just before sleep claimed her, she thought he licked her cheek.
CHAPTER 8
"We leave in the morning."
"Do you mean it?" She turned toward the sound of his voice. She had been counting the days, almost the hours, waiting for this moment.
"Aye. 'Twill be a dangerous journey. And long."
"Yes, my lord."
"Ye are not afraid?"
"Oh, aye, a little. But sure and I would do anything to have my sight back."
"I will do my best to protect ye," he said. "We leave at first light."
She nodded, her smile brighter than the sun at midday.
He left the room, pausing just outside the door to watch her.
Thinking herself alone, she clasped her hands to her br**sts and lifted her face upward in an attitude of prayer.
He did not have to divine her thoughts to know what it was she prayed for.
They left early the following morning.
Excitement rippled through Channa Leigh as Darkfest lifted her onto the back of a horse. Leaning forward, she patted the animal on the neck, loving the silky feel of the horse's coat.
"Have ye ridden before?" Darkfest asked, adjusting her stirrups.
"Never anything so large."
"Well, dinna worry. Clover is a fine beastie, well trained. She will carry ye safely."
He gazed up at Channa Leigh. She was prettier than a fresh spring morn. Sitting there, with her skirts spread over the mare's rump, a midnight-blue fur-lined cloak around her shoulders, she looked like a fairy queen going calling.
Gathering up the reins to his own great stallion, he swung into the saddle and settled his own cloak about his shoulders. He clucked to the stallion, and the horse moved forward with a shake of his great shaggy head. The mare moved up beside the stallion. A pretty little gray pack mule followed the horses, the bell around her neck tinkling softly.
The path that led down from the castle was a long and winding one, the narrow road lined by windblown trees and squat shrubs.
He watched Channa Leigh carefully. She held the reins lightly in one hand, the other hand resting on the pommel. She seemed at ease in the saddle, her body swaying with the movement of the mare. The early-morning sun danced in Channa Leigh's hair, making it glisten like spun gold. His gaze moved over her face and form, delighting in the line of her profile, the sweet curve of her breast.
He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle as his body responded to his lustful thoughts. With an oath he looked away. This journey was a mistake, he mused ruefully. In the castle, he could leave her alone when he needed to escape from the havoc she played on his senses. There was nothing within its walls that could do her harm. But out here… there were wild animals that could tear her to shreds, deep ravines she could stumble into, rivers that could sweep her away. He would have to keep her in his sight every moment.
He headed east when they reached the bottom of the trail.
The land stretched ahead of them, gently rolling hills and shallow valleys all covered in a sea of deep green grass. Tall trees garbed in the bright emerald green of early spring grew in scattered clusters. Large birds soared across the sky. He saw a small herd of deer grazing in the shade of a stand of timber. A speck of blue far off in the distance promised a water hole.
For a time, he lost himself in the rocking chair movement of his horse. He seldom found time to ride, seldom left his mountaintop. He had forgotten how beautiful the countryside was, the sense of freedom horseback riding afforded. He looked back from time to time to check on Channa Leigh. She rode with her face lifted to the sun, drinking in its warmth, her head turning at the sound of a flock of black-headed geese winging their way south.
He and Channa Leigh rode all that day, stopping now and then to rest the horses or to get something to eat or drink.
Channa Leigh rode without complaint, her eagerness at being outside evident in her expression. Though she could not see, she used her other senses to the fullest, running her hands over the thick velvety grass when they stopped near a river, listening to the birds as they chirped in the treetops, picking a handful of sweet-smelling flowers.
At dusk, he reined his horse to a halt. Dismounting, he lifted Channa Leigh from the back of the mare.
"Wait here," he said, and when he was certain she would obey, he unsaddled the horses and turned them loose. Next, he spread a blanket on the ground and bid Channa Leigh sit down.
When she was comfortable, he drew a circle on a small, barren patch of ground. A few words, and a fire sprang to life, crackling cheerfully in the gathering dusk.
He pulled the ingredients for dinner from his saddlebags, filled a pot with water to warm for tea. And all the while, he watched her, becoming more and more enchanted with her nearness, more and more drawn to her beauty of face and form and spirit.
She sighed, a soft sound, yet he heard it clearly.
"What is it, lass?" he asked.
"I was just wondering…"
"Wondering?"
"About Magick."
"What kind of magic?"
She laughed softly. "Not sorcery. Magick, the wolf."
He grunted softly. "What were you wondering?"
"If he would come to me if I called."
"What need have you of the wolf?"
"I…" She chewed on her lower lip a moment. "I was wondering… that is, I should very much like to see your face."
His eyes widened in surprise. Of all the things she might have said, that was the furthest from his mind. He wondered if he should tell her that he was the wolf. He knew she was a little afraid of the master of Darkfest Castle. Would she be less afraid of him if she knew he was the wolf? Or more?