Falcon's Desire

Lyonesse ignored Howard’s groan. Instead, she watched Faucon’s jaw tighten.

Still the smile did not leave his face.

After placing a hand on the bench for support, she leaned closer to him and lowered her voice. “How many lifetimes were you given for the murders of your wife and infant son? Did you gain as many eternities for Guillaume’s demise as you did for theirs?”

Now the smile was gone.

The dusky complexion was replaced by a paleness that did not seem natural for one so dark. His glittering gaze danced briefly to Howard before returning to pierce her with a look of anger and pain so intense that for an instant Lyonesse regretted her words.

Faucon’s grasp on her wrist stopped just short of crushing the bones that connected her hand to her arm. His voice was still nothing more than a whisper. “You may be able to coax or goad others with your quicksilver tongue. But, Lady Lyonesse, you are not dealing with one who is willing to play your games.”

“I am not—” When he none too gently pulled her arm up, she forgot the rest of her sentence. “What are you—”

He quickly cut off her response by slapping the handle of her eating knife in her hand and ordering, “Eat.”

Who did he think he was? Lyonesse stared at their shared trencher. He was not the Lord of Taniere. This murderer had no right to speak to her in this manner. Faucon was a prisoner here. A prisoner who had no right to be in her hall, or at her table.

She trembled with rage. “What gives you the right…” Suddenly she realized that she’d given permission for him to be here. If he’d pushed her good humor over the edge, she’d no one to blame but herself.

Lyonesse bit her tongue, stopping the rest of her words and viciously stabbed her knife into a piece of meat. It would have been much more satisfying if it had been Faucon’s heart.

Rhys flinched. He could almost feel her knife rip through the flesh and muscles of his chest as the sharp point sought his heart.

The vengeance-seeking little wench succeeded where many grown men had failed—again. This inexperienced woman used words to goad him into losing his temper as if he was nothing more than a callow youth.

He’d crushed the life from men more than twice her size. His words could cut her show of bravado into ribbons. Rhys glanced down at her. A tinge of pink still colored her cheeks.

Nay, striking out at the spirit of so regal a cub would not sit well on his conscience. It’d be child’s play and he did not intend to amuse the child in either of them.

She goaded him beyond reason and struck where no others dared. In the short time he’d known her, Lyonesse had made him feel emotions that he’d thought well buried. Hatred and anger blended with pain as raw as it had been years ago.

Yet beneath those mixed emotions lay something far more dangerous. And far more enticing than any great wealth. Passion and desire threatened to awaken from their long lonely slumber.

Rhys stood, seeking to escape to safety. He motioned for Howard. “I would return to my cell now. The company there will be much more soothing for the digestion of my meal.”

While Howard unlocked his fetters from the bench, Rhys smiled down at Lyonesse. He’d not let her see the warring that took place in his mind and soul. Gently lifting her wrist, he placed a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. He felt the furious beating of her pulse against his fingers. Briefly, he wondered which upset her more, his lingering touch, their nearness, or his smile?

He leaned close, so no one else could hear him answer her last, half-spoken question. “A devil needs none to give him the right to do anything he desires.” Watching the blush fade from her cheeks, he added, “Beware of what you cause to begin, little lioness, you may not be able to control the outcome.”

“Why, you—”

Her response was abruptly cut short by a loud commotion coming from the entrance doors to the hall.

Clearly unable to decide what to attend to first, Howard looked from Lyonesse, to Rhys, then to the door.

Rhys spread his arms as far apart as the chains would allow and nearly barked, “Good Lord, man, I am going nowhere. Escort your lady and I will follow.”

Quickly springing to action, Howard assisted Lyonesse from the bench and led them to the entrance.

Over the yells of the men, Rhys heard a loud cry that drew him through the open door and out onto the wallwalk. Ignoring Lyonesse’s shouted order to halt, he breathed in the crisp air and gazed up at the sky. The familiar cry of an eagle broke through the gasps of those gathered outside.

Rhys turned and glanced at Howard, hoping the man would lend his assistance. He then crossed his left arm over his stomach, giving him enough length on the chain to hold his right arm up at about chest level. “Cover my arm.”

Howard looked at him as if he’d gone mad.

To Rhys’s surprise, Lyonesse grabbed a cloak off a passing guard and wrapped the thick wool around Rhys’s forearm. “I want to see her.”

He pursed his lips and gave two short whistles. Instantly, he was rewarded by another cry. His heart raced as he moved closer to the wall.

Within a heartbeat Jezebel circled those gathered on the wall and reached out with talons that could crush a man’s bone with one hard grip.

Lyonesse gasped as the eagle settled on his arm. Rhys rested his arm on the stone wall, crooning, “Ah, my beauty, would that you could carry me away with you.” He smiled at the eagle’s gurgling response.

A commotion at his side startled him and the bird. Jezebel danced from one clawed foot to the other on his arm. He gritted his teeth and nearly begged, “Please, stop.”

He stiffened when the point of a sword pressed against his back. Surely Lyonesse wasn’t going to kill him now with his men so near.

“Release the chains about his wrists.” When Howard hesitated to do her bidding, Lyonesse reasoned, “The eagle carries a missive tied in her jesses. Howard, his legs are still shackled. I have a sword in his back. Release the chains.”

Before the chains hit the wooden floor of the walkway, Rhys plucked the scroll from Jezebel and handed it over his shoulder to Lyonesse. While stroking the chest of the nervous eagle, he urged, “If you can read, milady?”

Howard’s weapon replaced Lyonesse’s while she stepped out of the keep’s lengthening shadow and back into the light spilling from the entrance of the hall to unroll the parchment.

He continued to stroke Jezebel while waiting for his captor to read the missive from his captain. Had there not been so many people gathered so near, Rhys would have laughed out loud at the absurdity of this event.

Lyonesse’s sharp cry frightened Jezebel into flight. Instantly Rhys gave the bird the whistled command to return to Melwyn.

When he was certain of Jezebel’s safety, Rhys turned around. Howard held the sword across Rhys’s chest. “Do nothing brainless.”

Rhys stared down at Howard. “Some day, Howard, I will feed you that sword. Take me to your lady.”

After reaching Lyonesse’s side, he hastily snatched the note from her trembling fingers and read aloud, “My Lord Faucon, an armed force approaches.”

Howard broke the deafening silence first. “Does this army come for you?”

Rhys laughed. “Would my captain go to such great lengths to warn me of my own rescue? Would he seek to tell me if a friend of Taniere approached? Had Melwyn thought to rescue me, he would have approached Taniere on his own.”

Lyonesse paled. Her maid raised a hand to cover her mouth and scurried back inside the hall. Howard cleared his throat and scuffed one foot across the timber of the walkway.

What was the reason for this? Rhys frowned. They acted guilty. He pinned Lyonesse with a questioning gaze. “You do not seem surprised to find my men so near.”

She looked out over the wall for a few heartbeats before replying. “Would not that be expected?”

Her tone of voice was too uncertain. As if she searched for an answer. Rhys turned to Howard. “Would it be expected?”

Howard glanced at his lady. “Lady Lyonesse, please.”

“Howard!” Quickly facing Rhys, she admitted, “Yes, Faucon, your men are near.”

“For how long?”

She shrugged. “How would I know? We did not speak.”

“Speak? To who?”

“Your man.” Howard then explained about the man retrieving the eagle.

Lyonesse glared at her captain as if she’d like to rip his tongue from his mouth. “Thank you.”

Rhys held back his laugh. “Tell me, Lyonesse, how much longer did you think to hold me?”

“For as long as it requires.”

“I am certain my men would have ridden away from the area and just left me here.”

After glancing down at the bailey and back to her keep, Lyonesse muttered, “Keep your sarcasm to yourself, Faucon. I have other things with which to deal.”

Howard sprang to action with a curse. He shouted for the troop to assemble in the bailey. Then he turned to Lyonesse. “Milady, I will do what I must to ensure your safety.”

Before she could reply, Rhys interrupted. “With God’s blessing my men could easily defeat a force of fifty. The one approaching your gates now is too large to confront alone. Else, Melwyn would not have alerted me to the danger.” He glanced at the men assembled in the inner yard, counting thirty. “Do you think there are enough there to hold the enemy at bay?”

Lyonesse nodded and stiffened her spine. Rhys admired her bravado in front of her people, but it did not change the facts.

“How many battles have these lads fought, Lyonesse? I have watched Howard training these young and woefully inexperienced men to become a fighting force to be reckoned with. Are they ready, milady? For the reckoning is at hand.”

Lyonesse shrugged one shoulder. “They have no choice. I cannot conjure more men at will.”

“I can.”

The lady took a small step back. “What are you saying?”

Rhys thought that was obvious. “Allow Melwyn and my men entrance to Taniere. With the added numbers your victory is assured.”

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