Lairds of the Eagle

Lairds of the Eagle copyrighted 2004© Missy Strom ISBN # 978-1-4524-4008-8 Blurb: erotic medieval m/f, HEA: Laird Donan Glenncannon and his brother Shancy come across a crudely given auction where the innocent Analise is being sold to the highest bidder by her evil stepbrother. Donan cannot take his eyes off Analise and he knows that he wants to save her. But he is only a crippled man living in a chair with wheels. He was felled on the Crusades and his legs no long hold him strong.

Lairds of the Eagle by Missy Strom Chapter One Analise fell instantly in love with him from the first moment that she set her eyes upon him. At once her gaze lingered over his wavy dark hair like coal-black soot on her fingertips catching blue highlights from the candlelight. His jaw was strong with a tattoo along the length of it and a bold notch it the middle of his chin. A face of strength and youth, with piercing gray eyes. So handsome it flushed her cheeks, built so strong to impress her gaze, but she saw wisdom. Nonetheless, she understood even in her simpleness twas foolish to believe or acknowledge such a miraculous event as falling immediately in love with one look. Yet the tingling whispers in her belly felt like the sprinkling of sparks gone awry and they did not recede as she continued to gaze upon him with no hope to look elsewhere. How could it arise so quickly? Twas it desperation on her part or perchance pity? Nay, twas not pity for him. Never that. Nonetheless, it could be a touch of panic on her part, possibly a healthy amount, because she was frightened or had been until she first looked at the man that she'd fallen in love with through simply one glance. Analise noted that her newly cherished love had not once gazed back at her and she guessed that it would be obvious to all gathered, in the oily and smoke-filled Keep, that he was not being considered as a participant by her stepbrother Armand. Nay, Armand had more gruesome plans for his helpless stepsister than that. She was quite certain that in Armand‘s twisted mind, if he could not possess her, twas her offense and she would render the price with his method of selection for a husband. However, she was not being wholly honest to herself in this, because Armand‘s madness intended that she pay for much more than him being denied her body. ―The barbarian Lord Mondon, I think it should be, angel mine.‖ Armand‘s hissing in her ear brought her unwilling attention back to her torment and her tormentor. Sickeningly, she felt the indecent wetness of Armand‘s tongue on the rim of her ear as she tried, without success, to put a small space between their bodies. However, Armand‘s hand tightened like a vise on her arm, leaving her bright with pain, yet she dare not cry out or she would embrace worse. ―Tis said that, Lord Mondon, relishes the whip for his pleasure with women,‖ Armand continued, then he lifted his head by a sharp incline as if a newer thought occurred to him. ―Nono, the man-lover, Count Baquene. Perfect, much more perfect. What would he do with your ripe curves, my pet?‖ Armand‘s bony fingers closed on Analise‘s hip suggestively. ―Despise you for being so unmasculine, do you imagine?‖ Analise ached to flee with every bone in her body tensed for it. Could no one see it? Could no one see how desperately she needed to escape? This was not a decent offering of her for

honorable marriage, but another twisted torture of Armand‘s employ. In her anguish, Analise‘s eyes darted back to the one place that she'd sensed safety from in this frightening madness. And this time, he was gazing at her. ―I don't like it, Donan. Can you not feel the evil doings in your very bones?‖ Shancy asked in a low voice as he stooped over his older brother, and Laird, the Glenncannon. Although, the Glenncannon preferred in company to be simply called Eagle and in friendship, Donan. Shancy continued to lean over his brother, Donan who was hitched upright, sitting in his uncommon wheeled chair. The chair with wheels was pushed beneath the end of a coarselyplanked head table in the front of the Keeps main hall. That was until Shancy realized that he'd been standing in the back bending position for long moments with no answer forth coming. He pulled his gaze from the extreme oddity of the men gathered in Lord Granville‘s stone-block hall to see what was holding his brother‘s attention so thoroughly. He lowered to a crouch beside Donan‘s chair so he could gain his brother‘s height and see that which his brother peered at. It was common event for him to crouch beside Donan, they carried on many conversations positioned this way, and he kenned immediately what Donan ken. She was a wee curvaceous lass with comely golden hair and exceptional blue eyes. Her eyes were likened to a deep flowing stream of the darkest and rarest blue measure he‘d ever come across. He could see now why he had missed her, because she'd been under his nose whilst he'd been standing looking further out into the crowd gathered. Twas a queer group, he pondered once again and even stranger still with the delicate lass among them. However, the oddest occurrence in the whole gambit was Donan staring at a colleen. Bloody hell, his brother had not flicked so much as one of his dark eyelashes at a lass in nigh on five years. Never at all since the Crusade and the last battle taking Jerusalem, where Donan had been felled by a scimitar to his back. Shancy grimaced; he didn't care to remember the year after, when he'd nearly lost Donan a dozen times to fever, infection, and filthy Saracen healing. However, praise the saints, in the end Donan had lived, but without the use of his legs, which never moved on their own since that day. A cripple at five and twenty, Donan had continued to use the same grim determination which had made him a knight of renowned under the Lionheart‘s crusading banner. Since that time, Donan had forced a place for himself in the world as a cripple. A place that Shancy considered was sadly lacking in bonny lasses. It had been a toothy point between them and the one point that he'd found hard to speak about to his closest friend and brother. ―She is frightened,‖ Donan muttered. It had taken him this long to realize it, for he'd been so captured in the blueness of the lass‘ eyes that he'd scarcely breathed for many moments. What was he doing, he admonished himself, intending to jerk his gaze away from the look of innocent blue eyes that he had no right to stare upon? Yet even as the intention was upon him, the deed never came, for it seemed as if he had no will to surrender. The lass was speaking to him, speaking to him so clearly through her gaze that he could taste the words on his tongue. ―Aye she is,‖ Shancy answered. ―And what in bleeding hell is as fair a lady as she is, doing in this rough crowd? Were we not told that Lord Granville proclaimed this a hunting party and all we‘ve seen are harlots, except for this one wee lass. What in Kilagarum, is she doing here? Ah!‖ Analise let out a gasp and she recoiled as a weighty male hand closed over her breast. ―Try the other one, Lord Chaffering,‖ Armand drawled. ―A man has a right to know exactly what he is bidding his coins for.‖ Analise jerked away from Lord Chaffering‘s grasping fingers in front of her and Armand‘s hand pressuring the small of her back. She was astounded that the effort gained her freedom as she stumbled to the side, and then free from her two lecherous assailants. But not for long, her fretful thoughts assured her as she struggled to consider where to flee, even though she knew it was hopeless. If only she could escape to the outer Bailey and obtain a horse. Any horse. What did it matter that she was terrified to ride. Of the two evils facing her, this was the least! ―Analise,‖ Armand whined behind her, with an outraged and nasal tone that he oft times

used. Analise instinctively bolted forward to the only place of safety she could conceive of in the hazy hall, until she stood in front of the man that she'd simply fallen in love with at first sight. She was breathless as he moved his most incredible chair on wheels to face her, and her gaze riveted onto the majestic eagle tattooed onto the left side of his cheek, jaw, and then down the muscular column of his throat. He was of the old people, she realized, because she'd not seen markings such as his since she was a child. Donan was furious. He'd seen the licentious groping of the lady and no man from his peerage could allow a lady to be handled as she'd been. Quickly, he bowed his head to the lady standing before him, for he could not bow his body. Then, he lifted his hand outward, silently requesting askance of her to place her hand into his as his gaze caught the two men that had handled her so harshly coming toward them. The lady before him, a golden-haired nightingale, did not falter, and more, she clutched his hand as he sustained the shock of their touch. Twas highly improper for them to be so introduced. However, he'd given over proper in favor of reality years ago. ―I would be, Baron Barnard, my Lady Analise.‖ Donan chose to use his English baronage in the moment and he'd heard the lady‘s name called from the slick, black-haired lech approaching. ―And this would be my brother, Lord Shancy.‖ Donan held Lady Analise‘s small hand, pulling her closer to him and slightly to the side of his legs bent up in front of him, before he pronounced loudly. ―And to be sure, my lady, my brother would be honored to take you to fetch your shawl. It but saddens me, lass, that I'm not able to perform this honor for you.‖ ―What is this?‖ the tall black-haired man exclaimed, arriving behind Lady Analise. She seemed to have some intuition of where the lecher's hands would be seeking for she stepped forward, to the side of his chair and out of hands reach. She turned, stepping back further and Donan wondered if she realized that she still clutched his hand so closely. ―I am, Lord Armand, and do not employ that we have met, Sir.‖ Armand announced, glaring at Lady Analise the entirety. ―Baron of Barnard, the Glenncannon, or perhaps you could be recalling me as, the Eagle, some still do,‖ Donan replied, watching Lord Armand‘s eyes lighten with interest. ―Then you are certainly here for the auction!‖ Lord Armand exclaimed. ―Certainly. How perverse, I should have guessed,‖ he said, staring pointedly at Donan‘s crippled legs. At the mention of the auction, Lady Analise‘s hand began to shake within the grasp of his hand and it took willpower not to look at her. He'd been a viewer of the world for all his thirty years and he had a sickly green feeling that he could guess just what this auction would be entailing. ―Aye, the auction,‖ Donan lied. ―And you are just the man that I was seeking. Lady Analise‘s guardian, I'm thinking clearly?‖ ―Stepbrother,‖ Armand answered, with two of his bony fingers grooming his wassail thin mustache. ―Well met my good man and this would be fairly served. Whilst you and I converse, my brother the Viscount, would be graciously escorting your prize, shall we say, to fetch her shawl.‖ Donan used an abundance of a courtly flourish in his deep voice, as he pushed his chair forward a wee smidgen. Shancy needed no further prodding. He could guess his brother‘s intent and the Lord Armand appeared about to protest. So quickly, he stole the little blue-eyed lass aside, with a courtly sweep, moving with determination toward the far end of the hall and the ladies retiring chambers. He could only imagine Donan meant to secure the lady out of the company of leering males, for he had also seen the rough groping of her breasts. After that, Shancy didn't entertain much hope, because this Lord Armand was the lass‘

stepbrother and unless she was of age, which she did not look to be, it appeared little could be done. However, it was worth any attempt just for the reason that she had captured Donan‘s interest so thoroughly. Why the two of them had been holding hands as if they were man and wife for an age. Aye, it was worth any possibility this was, he thought, nodding his head toward two of the Glenncannon knights, while employing a quick hand gesture, as he thought they all could be leaving the castle rather quickly. He saw the Glenncannon men move in closer to Donan and that left him feeling fortified. ―Angel mine!‖ Armand called out behind them in a nasal whine. ―I insist that you hasten!‖ Armand‘s face took on the energy of evil intent as Analise picked up her skirts, nearly running down the length of the back hall with Lord Shancy forced to follow behind. This was her chance, Analise thought. Her beloved had given her a chance. Of course he could not know that he was her one and only love, because they'd just barely met. Still she knew, so perchance he did also. It was a tragedy she was forced to leave her Baron so soon after having met him, but he'd given her this chance to escape and she would not waste it. Lord Barnard‘s brother, Lord Shancy was kind and handsome also, although not nearly so appealing as her Baron. Lord Shancy sported the same eagle tattoo as Lord Barnard, but Lord Shancy looked quite concerned for her and she sought to relieve his anxiety. ―I am more comforted now, my lord, having met your brother.‖ Analise walked quickly through the back hall toward her chamber as she spoke. ―He is quite special, don‘t you agree?‖ ―Aye, but are we entered in a foot race I‘d not been aware of?‖ Analise laughed, a tinkling sound, but she kept her pace. ―Nay, my lord, however tis best not to keep my stepbrother waiting.‖ She cast a serious gaze at Lord Shancy. ―He could have a foul temper, you see.‖ ―Aye,‖ Shancy agreed as he tried to decide what actions he should take now. It was difficult to speak to a lady of perverse matters and this donnybrook auction was healthy with perversity. However, it was then it tallied wholly in his mind just what the fair lass had implied. ―Special? Did you say Donan was special?‖ They had apparently reached Lady Analise‘s chamber door, for she stopped outside of it and looked up to him. She was a contrast of vivid fey innocence with the curvaceous body of a more mature woman. ―Aye, my lord.‖ Analise was blushing and she found herself wanting to leave her Baron with a word, and this would be her last chance. Say something to his brother and she was sure Donan, as his brother called him, would hear of it. ―Lord Donan, touched my soul with simply a glance that must never be mistaken for pity, for I have none for so well made a knight, who is the true caretaker of a maiden‘s resolve.‖ Shancy was impressed with the earnest seriousness of Lady Analise‘s expression and words. Aye, here was a lady of fine regard, who would not let a wee bit of crippling stand in her way to see the truer man. ―Please, my lord, tis maidenly fancy, surely not meant for a brave lord‘s serious thoughts,‖ Analise teased with a clear smile. ―Nonetheless, I would beg you a favor in that you return without me and offer my regrets. For I believe it could be best this eve if I stay inside these chambers.‖ Analise promised silently to do penance for the lie, she did so dislike being dishonest. ―Aye, my lady, and with the door firmly bolted,‖ Shancy agreed, relieved that this could be a solution and also awarding some time to ponder the matter. He'd not expected the gift of a solid door and chamber beyond. It must be a type of storage solar turned to this use. ―Of course, my lord, and it has been a pleasure to meet a true gentleman.‖ Analise curtsied with her purple skirts spreading out on the gray stone flooring beneath her feet as Shancy acknowledged her with a bow. ―My Lady Analise.‖ On the way up from his bow, Shancy added, ―Using the firm bolt and

telling of a wee illness on your part, should anyone be trying to disturb you, would be a thought.‖ ―Yes, my lord.‖ With that said, Shancy waited for Analise to enter her chamber and to hear the sound of the firm bolt, before he ventured only a rock throws away, to stand pondering the dilemma. Chapter Two Donan thought it could be said of him that he was fleet of mind where he was no longer fleet of foot. It inspired great ingenuity to live life without the use of his legs. So, with the warm and tender hand print of a golden nightingale still lingering on his palm, he also resolved that he could not ignore the lass‘ plight. Ah, but the point being, what could a mere cripple hope to do and how far was he willing to pursue the forbidden fruit. He had ten of his own good knights here at Granville Keep, so force could be engaged and fairly won. His men were good. Bloody good. A tight unit that had survived the Crusade and more than enough other ventures. ―The succor ripeness of my prize is yielding more tantalizingly high prices,‖ Lord Armand cooed, to Donan‘s impassive face. A trial that was, keeping his face from showing his anger. ―I must warn you, Eagle, Lord Mondon has offered a virtual fortune for just one night, and the maiden‘s virginity.‖ Armand twirled his thin mustache. ―I must admit that I‘m considering it thoughtfully.‖ Donan‘s stomach turned rancid as he wondered where this rabid crowd that dared to call themselves nobles came from. It was a testament to the debauchery of Henry‘s court that these men could come to such foul means without any fear of reprisals from their sovereignty. Nay, that treasonous back stabber Henry would probably applaud the ingenuity of auctioning a fair and helpless woman‘s virtue. Donan couldn't forget twas Henry that likely killed, in cold blood, his own brother with an arrow in the back, and then imprisoned the better man for the throne, Robert. Robert who was the shining of all William the Conquers get. ―And then you could perchance auction her again for permanence, at a lower price. I for one would be eager to afford the reduction,‖ Lord Chaffery drawled. ―Lower?‖ Lord Armand eyed him. ―Of course a man would have to consider the possible bastard,‖ Lord Chaffery added hastily. ―And the lady? She agrees to this method . . . this auction?‖ Donan strove to keep the words from choking him. Twas difficult, although he knew the answer, he had to hear it from the knave's own mouth. ―The lady obeys her brother in all matters,‖ Lord Armand snapped, now watching the back hall with angry anticipation. Then, he turned back to Donan like a hungry hound. ―Yourself and this brother of yours, you heard of this little gathering where?‖ Donan treaded lightly, he could only assume the lord of the castle knew of this perverse auction, although he was here quite innocently. Shancy and he had been on a journey from visiting his English holdings left to him from his mother‘s father, the first Baron Barnard, and they were returning home. Granville Castle had offered a night's dry sanctuary in their journey. A mere happenstance. ―Lord Granville, mentioned it and I of course could not let it pass.‖ Donan watched Lord Armand‘s gaze move past his legs, clearly assuming what Donan had implied, that he needed to purchase a lady of permanence, for he could not win one. Donan considered it was past time to relieve himself of the putrid company and determine what to do. Unfortunately, he could only see one clear way out of the situation for the gentle lady and that was force, however that would leave the necessity of honorable marriage. Christ, he'd never intended to press marriage upon his younger brother, however Shancy would be the only one with station enough and legs enough to be worthy of Lady Analise. Jesu, could he stand by

and watch his brother marry the fair lass? Donan‘s fingers tightened into a fist, what a fool he was being. What an utter fool! ―And your interest, Eagle, what price has it?‖ Lord Armand asked with sharp intent. ―You would not want to be left out of the fray.‖ ―Nay, I could not,‖ Donan replied through thinned lips. ―And I can assure you my bid will be the highest I‘ve paid yet.‖ Donan forced his mouth into a strained smile toward Lord Armand‘s raised brows. ―And you shall be well compensated, that I can be promising you,‖ Donan finished in a harsh undertone. The uproar began with the bells tolling sextants and not many moments after Donan rolled his chair away from Lord Armand and Lord Chaffery with some inane excuse to pee. The lecherous lords seemed angrily perplexed, then alarmed when their prize did not return to the front hall of the Keep. Donan continued to watch them race toward the back hall as two of his knights lifted him, still sitting in his chair, out of the front way of the Keep. ―Find her,‖ Donan ordered Shancy as they met on the top stair leading into the Keep. ―I‘ll be hitching myself to my stallion, but we need to make the gate!‖ Donan grimaced at the jostling of his knights Faye and Dun, who tramped through the muddy Bailey toward the stable. The rain would help them later, but now it stole precious moments as Donan prayed for a bit of luck. Where was she? Shancy had reported seeing Lady Analise stealing out of her chamber after he'd deposited her there. That she was trying to escape her stepbrother's vile plan was obvious, but which direction? The postern or the gate? Time was of the essence and it was moments like this, when he was hungering to run off into action, which left him the most impotent. Nay, possibly not the most impotent. *** ―Darn-darn,‖ Analise hummed under her breath. She'd not thought about the extra men Armand had brought, nor where they might be placed, and the mare she was attempting through great fear to abduct was not a willing victim. Oh, she disliked horses. Nay, she was terrified of them. She kept trying to tell herself the mare was gentle and the brown dappled beast did look as fearful as she felt. ―Halt!‖ It was Kife the Red, Analise saw out of the corner of her eye. Oh, Mary mother of God, if it had been anyone other than Kife the Red. Nay, twas more akin to Kife the savage brute force! ―You, slut! I‘ve got you now. Here, cunt!‖ It was a lurid bellow and Analise dropped the mare's halter, not knowing what to do with the blasted piece anyway. Then, she skittered around to the other side of the mare, eyeing its tall back, hysterically thinking she could leap. ―C u n t!‖ Oh twas Kife, leering down at her over the mare's back with both of his hands stretched outward. Analise ran, slipping in the mud, skidding on her knees when a force of nature, made into the fist of Kife, grabbed her cloak from behind and jerked. She screamed or she tried to, but the cloak tie with Kife‘s wrenching force behind it, choked off her terror. Frantically, she grasped the tie and she pulled it free, stumbling up and forward. ―Nay!‖ Kife bellowed, lunging behind her, but God chose his moments and Analise managed to avoid his lunge, slipping down the hill, toward the gate in the mud. She knew the whimpering sounds she heard were her own and hysteria was following close behind, but all she could think of was the gate. If she could just make the gate! However, God had given her only that one moment, for as she ran the world before her suddenly shifted into fiery blackness, and she screamed, looking upward at the demon sucking

her sight. Donan's arms swooped downward from Xavier‘s towering girth and he grasped Analise beneath her bosom with a strong arm bent around her delicate rib cage, to lift her up onto the stallion before him. The deed was made easier by the leverage of the thick straps that held his legs to Xavier‘s flanks on either side, but made more taxing because of Lady Analise‘s hysteria and the churning approach of the red knight. ―Glenncannon to me!‖ Donan bellowed, holding a strong arm indelicately across the large mounds of Analise‘s straining bosom. She had yet to understand that he was a friend, and while her struggles did not daunt him, he was afraid she would squirm off Xavier‘s back, and hinder his defense of the red knight‘s imminent attack. By the rood, he‘d found her now and he‘d not let her go. Donan grasped the thick oak breach of one of the crutches he carried, which were shoved into a pommel hole on the side of his gear. He whipped the crutch free, likened to a solid battle staff and he swung it one-handed at the red knight‘s head. He was strong of upper body, stronger than most for the effort he used to carry his useless lower portion. The thud of impact drove up his arm as a loud thwack sounded in the Bailey. Donan was certain he'd broken some skull and it left him feeling immensely satisfied. He'd seen the red knight trying to run Lady Analise down like an animal, and worse he'd heard the man‘s lewd taunts. What he wouldn't surrender to the devil himself, he thought, to take to the ground and finish the brute. ―Donan, to the gate!‖ Shancy bellowed somewhere off to the right and behind him. ―Analise . . . you bitch!‖ Lord Armand‘s screeching echoed in the Bailey yard as he appeared through the Keep's front way. Analise stopping fighting him and she whimpered in fright. ―Please do not let him have me. Please!‖ Xavier bunched his withers into a leap forward as Donan called instructions into the warhorse. Xavier was voice trained and Donan gave the great stallion his head, as he spoke in Analise‘s ear. ―You are safe, my lady. I vow to keep you safe.‖ Analise must have caught some of his words and further believed them or perhaps she was too afraid to care, because she wrapped her arms about his waist and buried her face into his chest as Xavier raced toward the gate. Chapter Three An hour later Donan swiped hard at the rain gutting his vision as puffs of steam blew out of his nostrils, and he heard Shancy shout. ―They be right behind us! We must part ways!‖ Donan considered bringing Xavier to a halt, but the men that pursued them were too close for even a moments respite. He agreed with Shancy‘s assessment. However, there was one glaring fault in the plan. ―You must take her, Shancy! A man with no legs-!‖ He never got to finish, as Shancy shouted. ―There's no time, brother! Go! Go! We will draw them away!‖ Donan blasted the dank air before him with a foul curse, hauling on Xavier‘s reins to send the stallion crashing off into the woods on the right side of the rutted road. The curse did not cause him to feel better, however he knew Shancy would watch his back, making certain Armand and his mercenaries followed him and not Analise. It was certainly the best in the down pour, because Lord Armand was sure to miss the fact that one of the men he was chasing had turned off. Donan waded Xavier a quarter league into the woods, then he pulled the stallion to a halt, waiting to be certain Lord Armand‘s force would pass them by. The rain was lighter underneath the thick coppices of trees and he adjusted his great woolen traveling cloak more firmly around

Lady Analise. He'd covered her golden head, but naught good it did in the raining down pour. They were both soaked through and she was shivering against his chest. He thought she could be in half a faint by the limpness of her arms around him, and twas for the best, for the ride thus far had been hellish and it looked not to improve for a long while. So as not to disturb her, if she were in oblivion, he refrained from attempting to comfort her with words. By the rood, what could he say? Do not fear because you are held safe by a crippled man, who may or may not be able to dismount from his horse! Donan nearly laughed harshly at the lunacy of it . . . of him. What compelled him? However, he knew. Saints, did he know, for twas curved and pressed against him so shocking that even his cock rose a wee bit to the occasion of a woman‘s softness he‘d not felt in five years. Yet, what good did a hardening cock do a man without knees? ***** Analise understood she was a coward, she‘d known it ever since God had chosen to give her and her sister Cheval a stepbrother by the name of Armand and a stepfather named Gaul. It was not that Gaul was truly bad. He simply had no use for daughters and less for two daughters whom were not his own. It continued to amaze her, even after the last eight years of proof, that a man such as Gaul with his obvious but normal faults could have spawned a devil boy like Armand. It could have been possible that she and Cheval, the older by two years, would have survived Armand if not for the untimely death of their parents one year before. She and her older sister had built defenses against Armand. Combined, they had forestalled the young man, who would not go so far as to endanger his accession to the Baronage that their mother brought to him. However then, her mother and stepfather had died in a freakish accident last Michaelmas and all had changed as anyone with only one good eye could have seen. It was then she'd truly become a coward. So cowardly, that even now, she would rather linger in semi consciousness than discover the true identity of her newest captor. He most certainly had to be one of Armand‘s prospects to bid for her. A man so lowly he'd neither the price nor honor to pay Armand‘s due. Saints, she'd finally passed the brinks into insanity, and become as batty as Heldregarth the ancient mage in Comtes village near her demesne, as to use the word honor and Armand in the same thought. Nevertheless, whoever her newest tormentor was, he could not be as horrible as Armand and that realization lent Analise some comfort as she let her mind drift away . . . gladly. Donan knew he must get Analise out of the foul weather. She was as cold as a frugal corpse clinging to him. It had been hours since the gambol to split had served. He was not being followed, of that he was sure, nor with the pelting rain could there be any hope of tracking them. Nay, it would be a wide search Lord Armand would now have to employ now, one encompassing every direction. Donan nearly missed the Cotter‘s hut or more precisely what was left of a Cotter‘s hut. If it had not been for Xavier shying away from a length of knotted railing, still standing from some type of pen, he would have missed the place entirely in the darkness and rain. Donan reined in Xavier and viewed his options carefully, while experiencing a blatant bout of frustration over his lameness. Jesu, at least he‘d the foresight to strap the braces to his legs. The braces were contraptions he'd concocted for each leg, to hold them stiff, so he could propel himself short distances with the accompanying crutches. He just didn't know if he could carry the weight of the barely conscious Analise over his shoulder at the same time as venturing to stay upright with his crutches. Nonetheless, there was no use for it but to try and if he fell, well then he would simply crawl using his arms. Twas not as if he‘d not done it before.

It was a good circumstance that Xavier was so well trained, for he was able to guide him nearly within what was left of the hut, with its one side wholly burned away. However, part of the thatch roofing was still intact and that appeared to be enough to keep the rain at bay. Donan carefully unwrapped his great cloak from around Analise and found what he predicted, she was as soaking wet as he was beneath the cloak's weight. He had no choice but to lay her across the saddle, so he was free to get down off Xavier‘s back. Twas the most inept and ungraceful act in a lengthy line of them and he tried not to imagine how he would remount Xavier later. Still, he managed with Xavier‘s motionless and bracing support to reach the ground upright with a crutch beneath each armpit. It was then he started the laborious struggle of taking Analise over his shoulder without falling flat on his nose. He managed it well enough, until it came time to deposit her somewhere . . . There was no hope for it and with his luck holding he spied clomps of hay in the corner. Then, he merely twitched the lady off his shoulder and she landed on her back in the hay with a mumbled protest that as quickly fell into silence. It was not much longer that he sat on the packed dirt floor of the croft, with his braced legs stiffly out in front of him as he fed sticks into a struggling fire. His gaze however, twas more for the woman beside him than the fire as he contemplated removing Analise‘s clothing. With certainty it had to be done, he thought, as he acknowledged the anticipation pitching inside him. How many chances did a man receive in his lifetime to have to undress a practically unconscious woman? And one with such bountiful endowments. Donan added a bigger stick of wood to the fire, and then he used his arms to scoot himself closer to Analise, pondering as he did, that he could not recall the last time he'd seen a nude woman. Twas wickedness to himself to tempt his cravings. Those cravings that could never be satisfied. He sighed heavily. Jesu, he was well use to longing for that which he could not have. In mind and body. Twas nearly second nature to him now to sit in his wheeled chair . . . uselessly, with a wee hardening pud-cock, as pretty serving wenches displayed their charms to men who were able. Never to him anymore. Never once him. Perchance, if just one of the lasses had shown a bit of interest in the crippled man that he‘d become. He could have tried? Nay. He would not do that to himself or the lass, even for coins. Forsooth, he was too afraid it wouldn't work or perchance it was just not his nature to desire the flimsiness of such a lass. Before he'd been felled he'd dreamed of a wife that would someday be his. The dreams, he thought, as he laid his hand to Analise‘s fragile rib cage just beneath her bosom. Aye, the dreams had looked nearly like this woman. Fair with blond hair, long and curling on the ends like golden thread caught by fires light. Blue eyes, deep and filled with romantic notions, outlined with dark lashes. Baby soft skin that proclaimed it had never been touched by a man‘s hands. Bosoms and belly that could only be found in maidenly splendor. Rounded hips a man could fill his hands tight with, holding strong to his possession. Legs that were long and lithe enough to clasp a man‘s determination to her heart. Aye, he would see all of the dreams bared to his sight to prolong his fancy for a lifetime, and then he would always be able to put a face to that dream of a wife in the lonely years to come. Fair payment, Donan assured himself, for rescuing Analise and then handing her over to his brother. ―But I will be the first to behold you, golden nightingale.‖ Donan freed the ties of Analise‘s gown down each side, pulling the wet and clinging material away from her womanly body. A body that had to be every man‘s dream. To touch . . . to touch. His mind was relentless. She would never know. Just one touch. A breast? ―Christ blood,‖ Donan swore, as he hauled one of the furs upward and over Analise‘s nakedness, holding it with his fists, which pushed the fur into the ground on either side of her shoulders. He actually shook.

―My lord, tis it really you?‖ Donan‘s eyelids popped open at the softly spoken murmur, just as he felt tender and small fingertips touch his jaw. Twas a caress of the finest measure with sleepy blue eyes behind it. ―Am I dreaming?‖ Sweet blush lips spoke with a wisp of warm breath stroking Donan‘s cheek, he was so close. So close Donan‘s lips found Analise‘s before reasonable thought could be entertained, and then it was too late for the mouth beneath his yielded with exquisite softness. She was new to the intimate touch of lips and he was not surprised as he tasted her gently, withholding his wanton tongue. Analise felt as if her body . . . her lips, were dripping golden nectar and she never wanted to be anywhere else, but in this place, beneath Donan‘s lovely mouth. Soft sounds escaped her throat as her hands traveled upward over muscled shoulders and wound behind a sturdy neck. Her breasts pressed into solid muscle as wide male palms stroked her bare back and she tried to wiggle closer still. A male growling of possession and need erupted in Donan‘s chest as the word, mine . . . mine . . . mine, scorched his blood. The sinew and tendons along his back drew and flexed, raising his upper arms to tight mounds as he fought his eating desire to dominate Analise‘s tender and receptive flesh. She was innocent in her surrender, a mixture of a finely aged sultry woman with fawning new charms. Nonetheless, he would have had the battle; he would have retreated from the bastions of her clinging and eager lips before he strove over the wall a conquering warrior. Except . . . Analise had to taste him this man who crushed her, yet caused her no pain. Who felt of strength and power, drenching her beneath his will, showing her where she wished to be, not as the conqueror, but as a determined guide. She had to taste his power; she had to follow it wherever it could lead. Her entire body sang with the need as she boldly stroked her tongue forward, greedily tasting . . . Donan suckled a dainty, yet emboldened tongue, as a groan of release bubbled deep in his chest. Back and forth he slid his lips and mouth in a primal rhythm that answered the pounding and throbbing beat of his body. Thoughts of erotic candor danced in his mind, sweaty matings, limbs entwined, brazen poises that he could imagine placing a woman‘s ripe body in. This body . . . this ripe body beneath him. His thoughts, thrummed vigorously. It is a kiss . . . just a kiss, his consciousness hammered as he tried vainly to restore some balance to his inbred honor. ―Ah Christ, lass,‖ he rasped, breaking the contact of Analise succulent lips with a tremor of his own. She fell to his chest with a whimpered plea that caught, and then died out in a tremble, as she clung to him breathing too deeply. Chapter Four Donan swallowed more air realizing that his hands were fisted around great lengths of Analise‘s flaxen hair and he made the conscious effort to relax his grip. When he recovered his balance, he cradled Analise with one arm, leaning forward a bit, so she lay where he could gaze down upon her face. He moved aside curling wisps of blond hair with his blunt fingers, while gazing into the royal blue surety of lover's eyes. ―Och, little girl, what have we done?‖ he whispered, in a voice husky with emotion. Analise‘s raised her hand, using one finger to trace the moisture her lips had left on his mouth and he closed his eyes with feeling. ―Make me yours,‖ she whispered. ―Ah, lass, you dinna know what you‘re saying,‖ he groaned, clenching the brawn of his body and drawing her closer. ―You dinna remember who I am,‖ he finished with emotion

attracting his brogue. ―I dinna,‖ she laughed, on the wisp of a sigh, parting her pouted lips. ―I am yours,‖ she whispered. ―Nay,‖ Donan murmured with his hand spread over the column of her graceful throat. The entire gesture belaying his words with its sign of possession. ―Lord Donan, you have saved me. You cannot give me back.‖ Analise‘s lips pouted more, begging him for a kiss. ―I won‘t let you.‖ Her eyes sparkled now in impish challenge, trying to hide hues of uncertainty and need. Donan was surprised Analise seemed to know so clearly who he was. Surely, she couldn't have forgotten his lameness? Twas then he convinced himself she must be feverish from being cold and wet as he stroked her cool brow and she lifted her lips upward, catching his palm with a kiss. He moved his head slowly in the denial that she chose not to see who he truly was as she kissed his palm again. ―Little nightingale, I will keep you safe,‖ he whispered on a breath, on a plea, with Analise‘s lips warm and tender, moistening his palm. ―You don't have to offer me anything, lass.‖ This promise twas a healthy bit of foolery for a crippled man, nevertheless Donan vowed to do all he could and still in certain circumstances he was powerful. The Laird Glenncannon had not lost his wit nor his stubbornness. ―But, I am yours!‖ she cried softly, rising up before him, losing the cover of the fur in a maddening slide. ―Can you not see that we belong together?‖ Donan‘s gaze followed the furs sliding past Analise‘s belly button where it stopped. ―Can you not feel it?‖ Aye, twas all that he could feel, Donan thought, as he wondered at the wit of having a discussion with such perfectly bouncy naked breasts. Why he judged that he could not get his hand wholly around one fragile mound and the judicious thought made him itch to try. Jesu, in this moment, he decided that he loved big bosoms and especially with just this shape of swollen nipples. The tips were pink, baby soft and quivering. ―Because you saved my life and that makes my life yours,‖ Analise exclaimed, swaying her beautiful breasts beneath his nose. ―You cannot give my life back!‖ Wondering at his sanity and gritting his teeth, Donan steadfastly took hold of the fur as he pulled it loose from Analise‘s rounded hips, obtaining a glimpse of the whole of her before he wrapped her within its warmth once more. ―You will lie down and sleep. Tis cold and you need rest,‖ he stated firmly with a catch of gruffness in his voice. ―But-but-,‖ ―Nay, lass! If you are mine, then you will be obeying me.‖ ―Oh. Then you see. I mean you agree.‖ She smiled, lying down obediently. ―Aye, lass, I see.‖ Analise sighed, thinking that her beloved lord looked very fine in the firelight. He had set his profile to her and she admired his strong features, coming to believe he must be what people would style as a Black Scot. His hair was a thick mane, coal black and curling lightly on the ends from the dampness. He had striking black brows and gray eyes that gathered and clung like a shifting silver mist on a deep gloaming. Aye, twas a Scot‘s word, gloaming, and she‘d never understood the depth of it, until she‘d gazed into her master‘s eyes at the moment of passion between them. Her master, her beloved . . . her lord. He was all this to her and she‘d never allow him to deny it. Not now. Not after they'd kissed souls and perhaps not before they'd first touched gazes as if they were kissing souls. She would be anything for Donan, anything she could offer him, for she understood that he resisted. And why. Those legs he worried so much about. Legs that still looked strong and thick as any man‘s legs should in their braces. And the rest of him, saints, he was a rolled tight mountain of brawn with a spike of iron embedded between his thighs. She had felt that steely man‘s spike rising upward beneath her, when Donan held her in his arms.

She'd never lain with a man, however, she couldn't live in Armand‘s domain without being more aware than she wished of men and women‘s couplings. It was one of the avenues Armand had used to shame her, with lurid words and forced watching of coupling servants. Now perchance, she was even glad to have seen the thrusting servants, for if she had been allowed to believe only in Armand‘s words, she would have been in terror of the act. Now she knew with all of her heart, what she could not have known before. The man, beloved to her, would never harm her. Not in intimacy or any other. Nay, Donan had such strength, but he held her tenderly. And would not Donan be verily surprised at all that his Analise did know of carnal intimacy? Aye, Analise thought tilting her head, and slowly so as not to be noticed, she pulled the fur that covered her downward a bit so the top mounds of her breasts showed nicely. Why she had a man to lure didn‘t she? Whether she was to be Donan‘s mistress or his wife, she didn't care. All that mattered was their love for each other and being free of Armand. Donan wondered whether he‘d rescued a tender virginal maiden or a tender virginal imp, for if Analise pulled the fur down much further, her twin prizes would be ripe to view again. He kept his gaze averted though, enough so she‘d not realize he could see all that she wished to display. Twas a warrior‘s talent not to appear to be looking at what he was looking at. He was a fool and he was looking. Aye, not only looking, but anticipating the flirt. God‘s balls, he could remember the young man‘s flirt. Back ages ago in his life, when he‘d been too quick and randy to know what to properly do with a woman‘s body. He could nearly laugh now at the rabbit quickness he and his fellows had employed back then. Oh, but the maidens had laughed prettily at the tumble, never correcting the young lord‘s ways. By the time he‘d understood all he was missing, it had been too late. Then for five crippling years, all he had was but to wonder about all the mysteries and fulsome erotic tales and techniques he‘d learned about during the Crusades. Many a knight returned from the Crusades to his surprised and much later delighted wife, he kenned. However now Donan felt anticipation raising the heat in his body, and he wondered how far he should permit it to go. Or if at all. Bloody hell, he wanted to flirt with a comely lass. He wanted to do all styles of carnal intimacies. I am a man . . . just responding like a man to what is offered. Why should I not grasp this opportunity? ―My lord, you appear cold. You should remove those wet clothes.‖ Isn‘t this what I asked for? For someone to but try? Donan turned his head, raising a black eyebrow, while his thoughts clamored. Ask just one more time golden nightingale and I would break . . . I swear just one more time to be sure. ―Come lay with me, my lord, tis so cold and I am certain I will fall ill if you do not rescue me.‖ Donan‘s belly clenched as he watched the maidenly imp falsify a shiver and reach out one of her hands toward him. His eyes narrowed on that hand. ―You‘d have to help me take off the braces.‖ He grabbed Analise‘s hand . . . too tight. ―You‘d have to move my legs. They are dead weight, do you ken?‖ ―Oh, my lord.‖ Analise sat upright clutching the fur to her breasts. ―You would truly allow me too? I will. I want to!‖ ―You ken?‖ Donan tugged Analise‘s hand. ―I will ken, my lord. I-I want to ken,‖ she whispered. ―We would just lie together. I dinna know if I could-,‖ ―Yes, my lord.‖ Analise smiled. ―Just lay together for warmth, you and I.‖ Analise immediately tugged a smaller woolen covering from beneath the furs and wrapped it under her arms, tucking the end snug between her breasts. She didn't want to test Donan‘s fragile acceptance with her complete bareness. She could see that he tottered in uncertainty even though his solemn masculine features barely showed it. ―Tell me what to do, my lord." She moved to kneel beside him.

Donan's hand lifted upward filled with her long blond hair, which he pulled over her bare shoulder. ―Call me, Donan. Always, Donan.‖ Beloved, master, mine. ―Yes, Donan.‖ ―My tunic first, nightingale. Take off my tunic.‖ Analise watched Donan‘s eye coloring turn to gray slate as she reached for the bottom edge of his tunic. It was shorter than most, coming to his mid-thigh, but still caught beneath his rump. She fastened her bottom lip between her teeth wondering, how . . . ―I‘ll rise up, imp.‖ He straightened his arms with his hands planted firmly on the ground and then lifted his lower body off the ground. ―Oh, I see.‖ She turned a smile up at him, and then quickly bent her head to pull the tunic from beneath him. When it was free, he lowered himself, and then he raised his arms high. As soon as she began to lift the tunic, she saw that he wore a fuller breech cloth than most men would, probably because of the shorter tunic. She also saw that his legs were not covered by woolen stockings, but by some sort of softly buffed and sewn hide. Still, her wondering thoughts came to a staggering halt as she tugged the tunic free of Donan‘s arms, sitting back on her heels with her gaze fixed upon his bare chest, and her bottom lip gaped open, she feared. ―Have you not seen a man‘s bare chest before, sugar-lass?‖ Donan‘s voice was warm, like mulled red wine, she thought, as she tried to shake her head nay, but it seemed too fixed in place to manage it. ―I-I." She clutched his warm tunic to her breasts. ―Not like this, I don‘t believe, I-.‖ Why was she so breathless? Then, Donan laughed in a deep baritone rumble that flexed his muscles right before her eyes . . . every blessed one them! ―Ah, lass.‖ Analise found her hand grasped into Donan‘s hand as he placed her palm down on the curly black hair on his chest that formed a furry mat. ―Touch and it will be real,‖ he murmured. She spread her fingers through the fine black mass, feeling the heat of firm male sinew beneath her palm, drawing the muscle tight at her caress. Saints, Donan was a powerful man with so much tempered brawn; the slopes of his muscle tantalized her fingers, until she didn't realize she was tracing the mounts, the indents . . . ―I‘ve not been touched in so many years.‖ His voice was husky and the sound brought her back from her warm seduction. She felt flushed and languid and her belly or lower ached with little honeyed throbs. Donan‘s eyes were closed and his lips were parted in a firm sensual outline. She knew what she wanted to do, but she also sensed she had to be careful not to rush Donan‘s sensitive honor. So, she kept a careful watch on his face and she ran her hands over his warm tough body, learning the feel of him. She could tell he enjoyed it as much as she did, until she came to the sagging band of his breech cloth. It was falling low on his flat belly with a strip of black hair disappearing beneath the cloth. She could see clearly the bulge of his erection pushing against the material. She looked up at Donan‘s face trying to judge if she should . . . ―If only I could, lass.‖ His face was harsh and his gray eyes were cauldrons of swirling smoke. ―You could,‖ she whispered. ―I would do anything you bade me.‖ Her hand closed gingerly around the tumescent outline of his male shaft. ―Make me yours. Do anything, Donan. Show me what to do.‖ Suddenly, she felt her hand snatched upward and pulled away, caught in Donan‘s broad hand as he took it behind her back. Then he pulled her down, toppling her backward with the pressure of his chest, until he had her captured beneath him with her arm partway behind her back. Her neck flexed and the weight of her head fell backward, exposing the arch of her throat. ―Now tell me you will do anything!‖ Donan used his free hand to jerk the blanket to Analise‘s waist. He wanted to frighten her, for all that he could not have. He wanted to . . . ―Tell me you‘ll be spreading your legs for me! Tell me you‘ll lick my cock. Tell me you‘ll-,‖

―I will!‖ Analise‘s breasts heaved with the nipples like jutting pink spokes. ―Do anything. Show me lovemaking, please! Before . . .‖ ―Before what?‖ Donan released Analise‘s arm and used his elbows to drag himself forward, until he had her small head cradled in his hands so he could look into her face. ―Before what, lass?‖ ―Before, Armand, rapes me or-or throws me to another who will hurt me like-like-,‖ Quivering little tears dropped through Analise‘s golden lashes. ―Like who, Analise?‖ Her small hands clutched his upper arms. ―L-Like, Cheval, m-my sister.‖ She sobbed once, and then caught it. ―He let Red Kife r-rape her. H-He took her away!‖ She tried to catch her sobs with a shaky breath. ―He said that he took her to the Abbey to have her bastard babe. He said accidents happen in child birth all the time.‖ ―Your parents?‖ ―Dead, last Michaelmas. I-I think . . . Cheval thought too, that-that-,‖ ―That, Armand, killed them?‖ ―Yes.‖ Analise choked on another sob. ―I tried to find, Cheval, but it was so hard with, Armand, watching me and no one would tell me. The servants are all afraid of him. H-He tortures some. Tis so awful.‖ Donan dropped his forehead onto Analise‘s temple, holding her close. ―I will find a way to keep you safe. I will not let that bastard have you.‖ ―I-I know. I am yours now.‖ Analise‘s arms came around his neck. ―And I'm so h-happy to be.‖ ―Nay, little nightingale.‖ Donan raised his head. ―You canna give yourself to a crippled man, just for your fear. You are a fine beautiful lady and deserve better.‖ ―Nay!" Analise tugged at his hair, bringing his face down close to hers, with a surprising strength. ―Tis true, I want to be loved so I will know love should anything happen, but that has naught to do with how I feel about you.‖ ―Nightingale, you make no sense. You are upset, I ken.‖ ―Why do you call me that?‖ Donan narrowed his eyes, she was vexing and lovely and more than a bit persistent. Jesu, he wanted her to the depths of his soul and because he had feelings for her, he would not allow her to make emotional judgments when she was so obviously threatened by Armand, which made her frightened. Nay, by his honor, he had to take reason before irrational loving. ―Because you nip and peck at me like one and-,‖ Donan put his finger over Analise‘s lips to silence her. ―You have pointed out very well that I am responsible for you.‖ He pressed hard on Analise‘s lips beneath her mumbling and the little imp kissed his finger in a pucker of blush lips. Donan sighed in exasperation. ―You will only nod,‖ he commanded. ―Did you not beg to obey me?‖ Analise nodded. ―Then you will be letting us both get some sleep. That is an order . . . and no more speaking on this or any other matter till morn!‖ Jesu, there was nothing like having an argument with a naked woman plastered to his bare chest, Donan thought, and he knew he‘d never forget it. Nor did he want to. Chapter Five Donan knew he needed to stay awake, yet his eyelids drooped, and with Analise laying soft and lush in his arms, his mind languished with hints of bliss. To feel a woman and to hold her so closely as she slept was a pleasure he'd only dreamed of before. Analise smelled of fresh rain and warm female flesh. He couldn't ignore the curving of her body fitted to his. He felt as though just holding her would be enough for him to remember the rest of his life. And as he listened to the steady thrum of rain outside of their nest, the sounds seemed to

combine with the lift and fall of Analise‘s sleepy breathing. Yet he was but a man and his cozy pleasure turned deeper as his eyelids became heavier, while the male of him contemplated carnal pleasures. He was afraid to hope. Possibly damned to hope. So, his winsome mind spun dreams unhindered by any realities. Musings that floated free. Wishes. Fantasies. And he must have dreamed . . . . . . . . . . Suddenly, through a dream, the call of the eagle soared over his head as he stood tall with his strong legs braced apart beneath him. His arms were raised high with his hands thrown wide to the flight of the majestic eagle over his head. The eagle was the sign of his power and strength. It embodied his wholeness and resolve. He dreamed of his powerful eagle often, spreading his wings and flying with the symbol of his Clan. Here he could be free and walk as a man. Suddenly, the chipper cries of a nightingale came pealing through the skies overhead followed by the bold ringing call of the eagle. Donan gazed upward, feeling his strong legs beneath him as he watched the eagle circling the smaller nightingale. The breath caught in his throat as the eagle drew nearer to the nightingale and he feared a soaring strike. Yet, the eagle didn't strike as the gay laughter of the nightingale turned to the breathless fear of being hunted. Then the sun burst in Donan’s irises casting a honey glow, as abruptly the sound of small feet fleeing through the heather drew his attention. He was naked and powerful with the warm earth planted firmly beneath his feet as he turned to give chase, feeling the strength of the hunt flex the brawny muscles rippling through his body. Shades, the color of honey and gold, stained his eyesight, appearing as fog in one glance and glass in the next. Yet, his sharp eyes, as piercing as the eagle's, caught glimpses of his fleeing prey. Strands of her hair, curled in honey, swayed over flashes of her bared buttocks, nimble yet voluptuous in their flight. Glimpses of her pinktipped nipples and rosy lips that were wet and panting in anxiousness raised the ram of his prick hard between his thighs. He was the huntsman and the naked enticement of his golden quarry drove him to fleet pursuit. The nightingale had no hope. He was stronger. He had the hot blood of his powerful cock driving him forward. He would use all his cunning and skill to hunt down his desire. He could smell her on the wind. He could hear her weaker limbs and softer failings. And his cock could feel her woman’s fertile flow. It drove the pursuit inside him to one not just of capture, but lust. It drew the blood inside him white hot, tightening the sinew in his body and strengthening his sprinting legs. The golden air around him flowed over the hot-blooded spike of his cock and he felt the lustful steam billowing off its length as sweat clung to his arm pits and sprayed off his brow. Then, he heard her call. The nightingale gasped . . . falling. Cornered and captured. He stopped his fleet pursuit at her bare feet curled in the heather. He stood tall with glistening nude flesh, his feet braced and his wide chest still billowing from the hunt. He gazed down at his naked voluptuous prey, sprawled in the violet sprigs of heather. He stared at his cornered quarry lying on her side, breathing the defeat of capture with her rounded and plump buttocks bared and vulnerable. The arrow of his cock stood jutting from his sweaty thighs, proud and ready to pierce his prey. “Eagle,” called the nightingale’s trilling voice and his strong arms reach down, and then lifted the golden nightingale up before him. Long blond hair, like honeysuckle mixed with umber floated over his shoulder. So long it feathered over his thighs, and then slid over the head of his cock that was engorged like a ripe plum. “Mine!” his voice roared. “Mine!” He lifted the captive golden nightingale before him with his hands beneath her armpits. The eagle cried and Donan offered his sacrifice upward to his proud majestic symbol. “No man shall take the nightingale from me!” he bellowed. “Donan-Donan?” The sound came from far away floating through the echo of his bellows. “Donan.” Closer, softer . . . a whisper.

Analise . . . “Beloved master.” “Yes,” Donan breathed, looking into Analise’s crushed-velvet blue eyes. He turned his body and hers above him in a slow circle. He showed her the strength of his legs. “Anything, Donan, I would do anything you bade me to do.” “You are mine.” “Yes!” she sang, reaching for him as he lowered her. Her naked legs clasped his waist like a siren’s song as the ram of his cock thrust upward, like an arrow shot true to its center. Her feminine loins split, yielding and quivering to his lunge inward. “Donan, my love!” pealed from her throat like a thousand nightingales songs, drenched beneath his bellow of victory. Analise’s woman’s slit wept around the shaft of his cock coating it, searing it with tight friction as the head of his cock leaped into the depths of her womb. Then he lifted her upward again, swaying her buoyant breasts with jutting rosy nipples, as the brawn in his arms bulged tightly and his legs splayed like braces. The blood pulsed in the plum head of his cock as it popped the entrance to her wetly swollen sheath once again. Then, by the strength of his arms alone and her limbs about his waist he lowered her forcing the engorged head of his cock into her channel again as they both screamed the sounds of passions ripeness. Analise’s inner thighs shuddered over his hip bones as her fingernails scraped down his chest, and he found the rapid beat of their mating as he spewed carnal words into her upturned passion-agonized face. “ Rosy cunt, wet, dripping. Tight. Fuck hard! Mine! Mine. On your knees!” “Yes!” Analise cried writhing against him as he lifted her off his cock and set her bare toes to the heather. Her lips seared his chest, his belly, and his thighs as he commanded, “Onto your hands and knees woman. Offer up your wet rosy cunt to my cock.” Gold splashed Donan’s irises as his woman splayed herself on hand and knees to be fucked. To be rammed and taken by his cock and made to scream in the rapture of his mating. His hand found her pussy-cunt as he came down on solid knees behind her bare buttocks, and he groped her cunt bringing her ass up higher and pushing her thighs open wider as he grasped her hair. He wound the long blond strands of it around his wrist. Tighter and tighter, drawing her head back and arching her buttocks to him, until the fat head of his prick kissed her dripping hole. He was poised with the bulbous head of his cock fitted to the much smaller gap of her redden woman’s hood, when he first saw the nightingale’s mark branded over her pussy. Fragile black wings painted over her cunt lips sweeping down into her inner thighs. His voice cracked then, roaring forth like an eagle's call in the midst of a soaring strike as his hips plunged forward. His drive tried to push Analise forward, yet he held her true and firm to his fucking by her golden hair. His free hand was drawn like the indomitable forces of the earth to clasp the nightingale’s mark and the flexing pussy beneath. It was as though he wished to stain his fingers with the mark of the nightingale as he kneaded, massaged, and fondled it over and over, while his hips flew and his cock plunged deep. Analise’s cries of passion became shriller . . . tight and fast. The inner keep of her womb was rushing in clenching quakes over his thrusting cock as the heat and wildness of their mating raised fumes around them. They were heady and cloying and saturated his senses as the sound of his thighs slapping her buttocks filled his ears. Each time he fucked Analise hard, the flesh over his cock drew tight, milking his pleasure higher. It urged him to go faster, to feel the fierce pleasure more rapidly with hot breaths in between, until it became one continuous bellow of rapture, and he swore to God he could not take any more bliss. Yet, God laughed at him as Analise cried beneath him and her womb convulsed around his cock. Analise’s wet, hot, and tightly clenching womb grabbed his cock, gripping it with rolling shudders that milked his seed from the base of his cock. The flow burned up his shaft and erupted

out of the head as he shook and groaned with Analise gasping in trembles of pleasure beneath him. His hot seed coated his thrusting cock as he fell over Analise’s back, then clasped his arm beneath her belly and tugged her to him. Their sweaty bodies slid against each other as he ground his still throbbing cock deep into her womb and they moaned as one . . . Chapter Six Donan jerked awake as Analise cried out against his ear. It took him long moments and the slow easing of his throbbing cock to realize he had but dreamed and now he was awake. A more carnal dream than he‘d ever felt before in his life, he thought. Then another of Analise‘s soft cries sounded, alerting him to the fact she was restless and disturbed by nightmares that he soothed away with kisses to her brow and soft words whispered in her ear. He could well imagine the devil dreams pursuing her were about Lord Armand. The man he would see in hell before this was through. But first, he would have to get his woman to safety. Aye, his woman, Donan thought and he knew he would always think of Analise as that, and he was certain in his heart it would have been completely true had his legs still worked. Even though he'd stolen her away from a horrible reality, he couldn't feel sad at her persistence in claiming she wanted him. Just as he was certain it would take only a few days of watching how he had to live his life for the true reality to make an impression on her. Aye, it would not be much time and he‘d have to watch it happen. Watching Analise accepting the impossible truth of his lameness. But he would not be sad. Analise had given to him the taste of his dream, and he‘d hold her a bit longer, he thought, dropping his chin onto the top of her head. He might not have this chance again, he kenned that all too well. Donan put off rising far into the morning, when reluctantly he raised his head, knowing he could not put off the inevitable any longer, and as he did, he was jerked to awareness by a voice behind him. ―It must be grand, brother.‖ Donan snapped his head around to see Shancy propped against one of the crumbling outer walls of the hut. ―I dinna have the heart to disturb you,‖ Shancy chuckled. ―Bloody hell.‖ Donan grasped the fur and pulled it up over Analise‘s bare back. He couldn't believe he'd been so distracted in his daydreams that he'd not heard Shancy‘s approach. And what had happened to Xavier, he thought, with a touch of exasperation as he cast a reproachful eye at his stallion. ―Even your trusted stallion knows enough not to disturb such a pretty picture,‖ Shancy chortled, close to laughing at his brother's distress. ―I wouldn't let it worry you over much. Tis only me, and Xavier and I are bonny pals.‖ It sorely did Shancy‘s heart good to see Donan in such a situation . . . it had been too long. Donan scowled, lowering his gaze to the golden head resting upon his chest. ―And where are the others, and how did you find me?‖ ―Och, now.‖ Shancy smiled, absently trying to scratch his chest in between the slashed opening of his rust-colored tunic. ―You shouldn't get so riled, Donan. Tis my filly mare who‘s got the love eyes for your brute Xavier now. That filly could track him in a blizzard.‖ Sweeping his tawny brown hair off his forehead, Shancy paused to look around, before he continued. ―As for the others, they‘re leading Lord Armand a merry chase. Although, I did mention, they might find us at St. Helen‘s Abby when they were through playing.‖ ―Fine,‖ Donan acknowledged, although he could have predicted the answer for he knew in every tactical situation, he and Shancy reacted the same. ―So, brother, you‘ll be wanting some help there. I brought some wine and bread from a

crofter lass.‖ ―Nay, Shancy.‖ Donan let his declaration settle in as he checked Analise to be sure she was asleep. When he looked back at Shancy, he could see the surprise, then the speculation in the brown of Shancy‘s eyes. ―What I require is that you disappear, brother. You ken?‖ Donan waited only long enough for Shancy to open his mouth in protest, before he snapped, ―And that be a direct order, little brother.‖ Shancy‘s mouth clicked shut and his eyes grew more calculating as he slowly assessed the situation, and then he probed, ―Tis possible you cannot get up on Xavier even though he‘s trained to your word.‖ Donan shrugged his bare shoulders. ―Aye, tis probable. We shall see.‖ ―Your doing this foolishness for a reason, Donan. I be knowing you too well, I ken.‖ Then, Shancy smacked his forehead and his eyes narrowed, as he blurted, ―Tis the lass! Something to do with her.‖ ―No more questions. Now begone!‖ Donan held his mouth in a hard firm line with his gray eyes challenging Shancy. ―Bloody hell,‖ Shancy cursed, as he grabbed his mare's reins. ―I‘ll be close, you stubborn old goat. And you cannot make me do any different!‖ Analise stirred in Donan‘s arms and began to wake at Shancy‘s last shouted words and Donan murmured to her so she would think the voice was his. He watched Shancy march away, and then mount his mare. Shancy was right about one thing, everything he did from this moment on was for Analise‘s well-being and not his own. Analise thought she was being held in Donan‘s strong arms as he spoke words of caring to her with his deep rumbling voice. But when she reluctantly dragged herself from the drowsy cocoon of sleep, she was laying alone with Donan‘s broad back to her as he pulled his dark tunic over his head. ―You‘ll be needing to dress, lass. I need to piss and cannot manage it alone.‖ The rough edge of Donan‘s voice warned Analise things were changing and her stomach churned suddenly as if filled with craggy stones. She could not see Donan‘s face, but tension filled the air around them cutting through the damp morning mist. She knew with inborn intuition that whatever she did next . . . whatever she could think of to say, would bind them together or break them apart forever. Oh, her heart cried out, she would not break them apart. Never that, she thought, as she prayed for guidance. Then as she hurried to dress, she was reminded about the opinions of other people, who all her life had labeled her simpleminded. Cheval denied it vehemently, but Analise knew it was true. She could feel it must be true, for oft times she became confused. Her mind seemed to have more than one voice and her ideas seemed to cause others to look upon her strangely. ―Fairy dust for brains,‖ her mother had proclaimed to her. The same black haired and darkeyed mother who had birthed two daughters that held no resemblance to her, even in the smallest detail. ―Dull-witted as the crofter‘s animals,‖ her stepfather had declared. And then there was Armand, who was too cruel to think upon. Analise finished pulling on her soft leather shoes over the woolen stocking warming her feet, as an idea formed. ―They call me simpleminded,‖ she suddenly announced. ―What?‖ Donan twisted his head to see Analise, a look of disbelief on his face, but he was greeted with the sunshine of her smile. What was the imp speaking of now, he wondered, as he raised his dark brows in question? ―Tis true, everyone says I have no wits,‖ she affirmed, as she waved her hand in an encompassing gesture that stirred the air beneath his nose. ―That is except for, Cheval, of course. But that's because she loves me.‖

Analise scooted closer to Donan on her knees and confided in a conspiring whisper, ―I only tell you this so you will not get too much out of temper when you have to explain things to me.‖ Then her pretty nose scrunched upward and she patted his arm as if in sympathy, muttering, ―Continually.‖ The voice she used sounded as if she were mimicking someone else. An older male, Donan guessed, as he tried to digest what Analise was saying. He'd not thought her simpleminded at all. But of course to be honest he'd not been thinking much about her mind. Nay, twas impossible. Analise was filled with a bit of romantic notion and very trusting, but not simple. His plan to dissuade Analise with the difficulties of being lame was going astray. He'd even forgotten the planned embarrassment of his first defensive move, until Analise blurted, ―Now you must tell me exactly what to do, my lord, to help you p-piss.‖ She looked so serious he was at a loss for words, but she persevered, ―Just remember that I get a bit confused sometimes,‖ she finished in a rush. Donan regarded Analise for the longest time, trying to understand exactly what had happened, yet all he knew was what should be the most embarrassing position for any man, was not anymore. He cleared his throat. ―I‘m thinking to use that brown clay jug thrown in the corner there, if you will fetch it for me, imp.‖ The truth of the matter was he couldn't do this on his own, and Analise needed to see that. The reality. So he gathered his resolve about him once again, deciding he would go further than necessary just to make his point. He had an unexplainable need inside him for Analise to see and understand the reality that was his life. So when she returned with the jug, he immediately set it aside, saying, ―You‘ll have to be helping me with these leggings. I cannot get them untied.‖ That was a foolish bit of lying, but he was determined. ―U-Untied?‖ she stuttered slightly, looking down at the ties over his groin. ―To free my cock, so I can piss into the jug.‖ He grimaced. ―Oh, but still . . .‖ She peeked up at him. He strove on. ―Lass, I‘m a man, certainly you have seen what a man carries between his legs.‖ ―A cock,‖ she whispered. ―Yes.‖ Then, a determined look stole over her delicate face, as she reached down. ―Must I untie them all?‖ ―Nay, lass, my leggings are special made, just the four ties in the middle.‖ Analise suddenly felt flushed as she gingerly untied the ties, while her fingertips brushed a solid impression beneath. Saints, twas an awful memory, but she'd even seen Armand‘s pale and thin cock on more occasions than she wanted to remember. That unwanted thought caused her belly to clench in anxiety. What if she felt the same about Donan‘s cock? Then she immediately worried that it would repulse her, causing her a moment later to quickly set a joyful smile upon her lips for Donan‘s well-being as she fumbled trying to pull the flap open. Donan watched Analise‘s face and he was caught in the fact that she looked as though she were about to joyously unwrap a Michaelmas gifting. He kept his body still, trying to place the feelings that should be embarrassing, yet felt nothing like that at all. He was trying to piss, by God, and shamefully he needed his woman to help him. Not absolutely true, but the helpless and emasculating act should feel humiliating not carnal. His woman? Where the bloody hell had that come from? ―Oh, Donan, your cock is beautiful!‖ Analise‘s spirited exclamation brought Donan‘s gaze down to his flaccid cock curled over his thigh. Bared and limp for all to see. Twas then the miracle occurred. He‘d never expected it again in his life and was stunned when she grasped his cock in her small hands. Christ’s blood, his cock responded instantly and it had nothing to do with pissing. ―Oh, Donan.‖ Her voice was womanly and husky as she held his stiffening cock in her

palms. Donan tried to clear his throat. To somehow get back on track of his plan that was leaping wildly astray once again. But of course the lusty male rising in him was riveted to the feel of Analise holding his hardening cock. How the hell was a man to think? The flush swept to Analise‘s breasts, then down to her belly and lower, as she gazed down at Donan‘s cock. It was large and long, at first slack, yet when she'd bravely reached out to grasp it, it immediately began to grow in her hands. She gasped then, feeling giddy and aroused and immediately she began a downward slide with her hand, watching the velvety skin move to uncover a silky head that was deep red in color. The thickening shaft throbbed on her palms. ―Are you sure you wanna do this, imp?‖ Donan asked, through his clenched teeth. He'd never expected Analise to be so forthright as to lay her hands on his cock and he watched fascinated as her small hands circled his shaft. The moment she'd touched it, she moaned slightly and he could feel his cock throbbing as she brought the jug to the head and was barely able to push the head inside the small opening. Biting down harder on his teeth, he managed to suppress a groan as Analise, who looked flushed, asked quite seriously. ―Am I doing it wrong, my lord?‖ ―Nay, sweet imp, you are doing it very well, exactly right and I‘ll thank you kindly when I‘m finished if you would shake it a bit for me.‖ Stroke it, twas what he was really thinking. Praying. Astray, was not the word for his toppling plan. ―Whatever for?‖ Analise asked as her fingers caressed his shaft causing him to tense. ―Tis a man‘s act.‖ It was all Donan could answer, as he tried to keep his lips from pulling into a lustful grimace that was nothing less than pure pleasure. His pud-cock had other ideas as it twitched and pulsed. Now was the most difficult part as he tried to piss through his cock's pulsating lust. He finally managed it and he wouldn't believe it, were he not living it, but even the act of pissing with Analise‘s wee hands trying to circle his cock was carnal. It took all of his willpower to leave his plan and not let Analise shake him off. And more. As he wondered mightily if she would? Nay! He was lame and she was free. He‘d not take advantage of her even though he knew he could. And she offered so freely. He had to make her understand, and it was the only honorable thing to be doing. At times he despised honor, yet twas a large part of who he was, and had always been. This time had gone astray, but the next time this morning would be glaring to her, in the long line of things Analise would have to help him with. ―Aye, lass, I can finish the rest,‖ he muttered, grasping his cock from Analise‘s too eager hands. ―You take the jug and empty it, and then bring back some water, using the hide pouch on my saddle.‖ Chapter Seven Analise was very happy, she'd been able to help Donan this morning with everything, until they came to his stallion. Getting him up on his stallion to be exact, which she now viewed as impossible. Besides helping Donan relieve himself, she'd helped him wash, comb his hair, and scrape the bristle from his face with only one nick. They had eaten some bread and cheese that he carried in his pack, and he'd even managed to nearly smile once or twice, chiseling his dark good looks to even further handsomeness and making her sigh with those tingles again. Only now, now it was all for naught because she was confused and twice as afraid to let Donan see how dim-witted she was. Donan watched Analise twist her fingers together as though nervous, while she unconsciously hummed a hauntingly familiar tune. Despite his attempt to force her to accept the hardships of his life, all the small indignities and the large obstacles, she had surprised him by aiding him in every way with a beautiful smile. Throughout the morning she'd seemed

determined to prove herself, and he was fast losing his desire to distress her with his handicap. Yet now she'd changed suddenly and become nervous. It was his stallion, he was sure of it. Everything had been fair, until he'd explained to Analise how he intended to get up on Xavier‘s back. She stood before him now quite obviously worried. Her delicate eyebrows were furrowed, while the depth of blue in her eyes held a lost look that seemed nearly fearful. ―Little nightingale, come here,‖ he said with a gentle voice. Analise‘s gaze cleared, but then she hung her head and fastened her eyes on her toes, beginning to speak slowly, ―My papa used to call us that. His two little nightingales, he would say.‖ She took two hesitant steps forward, peeking at him from beneath her golden lashes. ―I mean our real father. His hair was the color of sunflower petals. He would laugh . . . I remember the rumble in my ear when he held me and laughed.‖ Two more steps and she was standing next to his outstretched legs, near his knees. ―He told me it was all right to be afraid of his horse and he was certain with time I would grow more sure of myself and cease being afraid. Only, papa, could never have known about, Armand.‖ Donan clasped Analise‘s wrist and pulled her gently, until she floated down onto his lap as he tried to divine the meaning of her hesitant confession. He had inklings, but for the moment he cared more to just hold her. Aye, he wanted to hold her until she no longer looked lost or fearful. But at the same time he had to admit to himself his plan wasn't going to work. He was going to have to help her and she was going to have to help him. Analise was a gentle lady who'd been forced to witness the harsh cruelty of men, and yet she remained true to her own sense of honor. Donan thought not many maids would have been able to withstand those torments, and yet Analise retained the essence of her true upbringing. It tore at his heart as he listened to her confession that she feared horses. A fear compounded by that bastard Armand. Donan stroked Analise‘s silky golden tress as she laid her cheek to his chest with a sigh and he rested his chin on top of her head. Then, he arrived at a purpose. ―Did you know my stallion‘s name is Xavier?‖ His chin moved with Analise‘s response as he tightened his arms about her. ―He bows to ladies-,‖ Before he could finish, Analise responded quickly making him smile, and astutely lift his chin out of the way as she raised her head in disbelief. ―No, truly?‖ Her voice held the breathless surprise of an inquisitive child as she studied his face as if by hard scrutiny she could judge the truth. ―Aye, lass, turn and watch.‖ Donan helped Analise turn a bit in his lap, then he voiced the command that he had taught Xavier to approach. ―S‘advancer!‖ The black stallion stepped toward them, choosing that moment to snort, which sent Analise twisting and burrowing into his chest. ―Oh!‖ she squeaked. Donan needed no further evidence that she was afraid of his bold stallion and he couldn't blame her, in this instance, because this type of warhorse was bred for their girth and size and fearsome aspect. Xavier had been trained as a warhorse and had served him well in many battles, especially the last battle where he was felled from Xavier‘s back. Shancy had told the story many times of how Xavier had stood guard over his Master's broken and bleeding body, until Shancy could reach them. Nevertheless, since then Xavier had been retrained in a much different method, until he had to admit that Xavier was no more than an beloved pet. His fierceness was gone, for the sake of the more practical need to serve his crippled Master, and now he was no more than an overgrown pup. ―Révérence!‖ Donan commanded. His voice was clear and firm, and Xavier didn't hesitate, he went down in a one legged bow placing his sable nose in Analise‘s lap. She fairly choked him about the neck, but dared to peek at

Xavier‘s docile head bent to her purple skirts, with his big brown eyes looking so hopeful. ―He likes you, little nightingale.‖ Donan unwound one of Analise‘s arms, then taking her small hand in his, he drew it near to Xavier‘s velvet nose. ―Pet him and see. His nose is soft as silk.‖ Analise didn't protest when Donan placed her hand on Xavier‘s nose, and then drawing it further over his head, her fingers unconsciously curling into his rich coat. Moments later, she was giggling from the tickle of the stallion‘s tongue as Donan showed her how to feed Xavier a lump of hard sugar. ―He really likes me,‖ she whispered in reverent surprise as she looked at Donan with clear blue eyes, no longer lost or confused. ―Aye, I knew he would,‖ Donan agreed with a smile as he gave the command for Xavier to rise, watching Analise closely for any sign of fear, when the black stallion lumbered to his feet. ―Now, lass, do you think you can take him to the stream for a drink?‖ Analise nodded. ―Do I just take his reins?‖ ―Aye, imp, he‘ll follow you like a pup, while I watch you both from here.‖ Analise stood and gingerly took Xavier‘s reins. Xavier obliged by nuzzling the side of her head and moved forward making her laugh and raised her free hand to pet the side of his neck. ―Oh, you‘re just a big babe, aren‘t you,‖ she cooed. Donan rested back on his elbows, watching the huge black stallion and lovely wee maid walking together. He wondered if Analise‘s supposed simple thinking had any link to fear. Fear of the unknown and fear of the real demons of her world. Although, he‘d be damned if he thought of her as simple at all. By the time Analise came back with Xavier she was nearly dancing with delight beside the huge black mammoth and Donan had conceived of another way to get back up on Xavier‘s back. Aye, and he might not make a muck of it, or a fool of himself doing it. Analise nervously bit at her thumb as she watched Donan use his powerful arms to pull himself over to Xavier, who was bowed down again. Grabbing the stallion‘s glossy black mane, he rucked himself partway up Xavier‘s massive front haunches. ―Now, Analise, pull my leg up and over.‖ Analise moved quickly to Donan‘s side to do his bidding. Grasping his thigh, she realized that she couldn't circle it with both her hands, and it seemed that his leg was stiffer when bound in the hide leggings as it was. Still, from his knee to heel bent when it wasn't supposed to, until she grabbed his heel to control it. Then it was a tug of war that took a few moments, before his leg slid over the hard leather saddle onto the other side. Donan stoically watched Analise struggling with her face etched in determination. He couldn't help but to feel a certain admiration for her tenacity. Not the face of simplemindedness at all, he thought. ―You‘ll be having to tie one of those straps or else I will fall clear off when Xavier rises.‖ It was going to work, Donan could feel it in his bones. He should have thought of this before, but he‘d only taught Xavier to bow as a trick and rarely used the feat. If not for Analise, he'd never have thought of it. Excitement rolled in his belly. It had been five years since he'd been able to get on his stallion without the help of two stout men. ―Do you have it tied, lass?‖ ―Aye,‖ Analise said, as she stood back to examine her crookedly tied bow. It was the only kind she knew how to tie. ―Easy now,‖ Donan murmured in Xavier‘s ear as he tried to turn his head to see Analise but couldn't. ―Ah well then, Analise, step back and we will have a go at it,‖ Donan said, and his deep voice couldn't hide his excitement. Would not Shancy have been surprised to have witnessed his big brother doing this with only a wee lass' help, he thought as he gave the command? ―Hausser!‖

Analise remained nearby, and she stood with her hands stretched outward as if she could balance the feat taking place by her sheer will alone. She seemed frozen in time as she watched Xavier rising up onto his forelegs with a smooth jerk, lifting his heavy weight and Donan‘s combined. Donan stretched up over Xavier‘s neck with his arms outstretched to straighten his body as he was jostled right, then left, then . . . Analis squealed as she saw her hide bow tie tighten, then lose the battle and unravel. ―Oh no, Donan! No!‖ Donan couldn't feel that the strap wasn't holding, but suddenly the inevitability of a fall he couldn't stop sent his body tumbling to the left, and it kept going. Analise‘s cry warned him and luckily the buckle rings on his side loosened when the pressure came from the inside and not the outside. It freed his leg; else, he‘d have been hanging off Xavier‘s side with a broken leg. As it was, he fell free and hit the compact dirt of the crofter hut floor with a muffled thud, landing on his left side and shoulder. He felt that, a bracing swift pain of contact, but he'd taken many falls in the past five years, and he rolled onto his back. Jesu, he'd nearly done it, Donan thought, and then he began to laugh. Analise‘s eyes were squeezed tight in horror and shock as tears painfully forced their way out. Donan was dead or dying! She was certain, and the thought of it broke her fragile heart as a deep rumbling sound started on the other side of Xavier. Was Donan in a fit? Was he dying in some horrible twitching fit, she wondered with terror? She was afraid to look, yet if he was alive and dying slowly, she needed to hold him. Shaking, Analise peeked around Xavier‘s tail. She couldn't see Donan‘s face yet, but his broad shoulders were twitching. Oh no! Suddenly she felt strange, a freakishness that she'd felt many times before, and abruptly her mind went all starry. Then she began humming a tune she could barely hear in the distance. It was her papa, out in the sunflowers, and if she ran fast enough this time, mayhap she would see him! It dawned on Donan slowly through his mirth that Analise had not moved to his side. This thought sobered him as he pushed upright calling her name. ―The wee lass skipped out toward the stream, you great laughing goat.‖ Donan turned his dark head to see Shancy standing straight with his hands perched on his lean hips. He should have known Shancy wouldn't leave, but-, ―Skipping?‖ ―Aye, brother, skipping in those pretty purple skirts. She‘s a fey vision that one.‖ Donan swallowed back the hot flash of jealousy that suddenly gripped him. Twas just his brother making a fair assessment, he told himself. And was that not the method in the end, he grimaced, for Shancy to wed Analise, because he was the stronger man. ―Fetch her back now!‖ Donan ordered a bit gruffly. ―And be gentle. She is delicate.‖ Donan‘s scowl belayed his tender words as Shancy smirked with a jaunty tilt of his tawny head. ―Aye, brother, I‘ll fetch the colleen. Tis foolish for all of us to linger with, Lord Armand, about.‖ However, a long time later, Shancy still hadn't found the golden-haired colleen. She'd vanished and he didn't look forward to telling Donan this. His brother might be finding enough good nature to laugh because he fell off his horse attempting to get up on him. Twas to Donan‘s credit that he'd learned to overcome adversity this way. But losing Lady Analise? Och now that was a very different thing entirely. ―What do you mean you canna find her?‖ Donan was bellowing in a fair imitation of a cornered tiger they‘d seen near Jerusalem as Shancy helped him up onto Xavier using the same trick Donan had tried earlier. ―Just what I said, you deaf goat!‖ Shancy shoved Donan‘s leg in place none too gently and he began to work on the straps as Donan cursed a fair bloody streak into his ear. Chapter Eight

It came to Analise after a time that she was lost and cold and it had started to rain. It was raining in a gentle way that soaked her purple skirts through to her under-shift. She wondered where Donan was. Surely he wouldn't leave her? Not her beloved lord. Twas then she remembered him falling from his stallion and she shivered anew when she recalled thinking that he was dead or at least dying. ―How silly can I be?‖ she admonished herself, as she picked her way down a barely discernible path in the forest of trees around her. The leafy rich ferns nearly covered the trodden ground, but she walked on, hoping it would lead somewhere. ―So silly as to believe, Donan, could have died over a mere fall,‖ Analise sang to the rainheavy tree boughs that she passed. She laughed and hummed a gay tune, knowing that Donan could not have died over a simple fall. Nay, her beloved was alive and well, she was sure of it. She didn't understand where her dim-witted notions came from, yet this one she was glad to pass off into the netherworld of foolishness. Only now, she must find him because he would be warm and hold her close in his arms. Then they could laugh together over how silly she was. Donan held himself more motionless than all the living breathing things in the forest around him. He sat astride Xavier and let his senses expand, listening with his heart, his mind, and all of his soul. Twas a warrior's trick or discipline, depending on how one viewed it, the expanding of senses. He felt the light breeze pushing the hair on his collar. He smelled the pine and earthy moss around him. He felt Xavier‘s heat, where his palms pressed into the stallion‘s neck, and then he heard it. Faint, but still . . . Alert, Donan‘s senses picked the direction at once, and he clucked to Xavier. ―Walk on, boy.‖ His heart labored in hope, pain, and relief as he followed the faint sound of singing. If he'd not been able to tell how much he cared before, he knew it with certainty now. Analise never heard the great stallion Xavier crashing through the green fronds to the right side of her. All that she could hear was the old Celtic song she sang. One of those her father had taught her. The special one. It was the song her father told her she was to sing to no one but her husband on their wedding morn, and then only if she had cried from joy the night before. She only sang it from time to time to make certain she remembered it. It was the best song that she'd ever been taught and it made her feel special, because her father had said it was so important. Cheval knew the song too, for her husband only. Now each of them might never be wed and crying for joy, so the song might be lost forever along with its great secret. ―Two nightingales tears . . . Twin hearts so . . . One Brenin king‘s song . . . together belong . . . to er- to life, to love . . . You shall be the judge-‖ A movement caught the corner of Analise‘s gaze and she turned, expecting to catch sight of a small forest animal. Instead blackness nearly took up her eyesight, but then she recalled this had happened before, and she looked higher. ―Donan!‖ she cried with joy. She should have known he would find her, and he looked so tall and healthy. He was handsome! Donan watched Analise, like a golden fairy, flying toward him and he knew there was no hope for what he would do. Not that he wanted it any other way. So, he leaned downward to take hold of her as she fairly leaped upward laughing into his outstretched arms. Then he lifted her up before him to settle her crossway on the cradle of his thighs. Analise had no compunction as she lavishly pressed all her rounded curves to his muscle and she kissed him soundly on the cheek, the ear, then his jaw. He thought she was journeying those pink lips of hers to the most important area . . . his own lips. That was when he heard the amused chuckle behind him. Of course he'd known Shancy was there, however, he thought he had a few moments before Shancy arrived by his side. Nonetheless, Shancy‘s presence didn't halt Analise, if she was even aware of his arrival, and she found his lips with blessed enthusiasm. Only he had no choice but to pull away with regret. ―Nay,‖ he whispered, turning Analise‘s lips into a pretty pink-shelled pout.

―Oh, Donan,‖ she murmured sounding mournful as she patted his chest as though to soothe him. Jesu, her eyes were blue. He cleared his throat, determined to clear his head of soft womanly enticements. A very hard deed it was with Analise sitting so warmly on his lap. He couldn't feel her bottom on his thighs, but he could on his pud-hard cock between. S‘blood, could he! ―Shancy is with us, nightingale.‖ ―He is?‖ Analise exclaimed, twisting around to look and doing impossibly wicked things to his cock again. ―Oh, Shancy– I mean, my lord. Tis so good to see you.‖ Analise smiled, Donan scowled, and Shancy chuckled while greeting Analise as if she were a princess expounding on her beauty, until she was blushing a very tempting pink color. ―You must only be calling me, Shancy, my lady,‖ he finished. Donan ground his teeth, not realizing how tightly he held Analise about her waist. His face and his demeanor, everything even to the twinge in his heart, belayed his next words. Nevertheless, he spat them out anyway. ―Shancy, you must take, Analise, up on your stallion.‖ ―Nay!‖ Analise cried, and then she grasped him in a hug as if to say nothing would pry her away. He began to open his mouth to order her, when Shancy spoke. ―There‘s no way in bloody hell, I‘m taking your lass on my horse!‖ Shancy's hands were spread wide with his palms outward in a warding off gesture. ―She‘s not my woman.‖ Donan nearly gagged as those words creaked out. ―I am yours! Now and forever,‖ Analise exclaimed, and he could feel the vibration of her voice against his tunic as she protested. Shancy gave him a condescending smirk and Analise pressed those bountiful bosoms of hers to his chest even tighter. Donan forced his eyes closed. Jesu, he swore silently, he wanted this so badly he could feel his insides tremble. But, Analise was just too innocent to understand and perhaps he was too afraid. How could he champion her? How could he protect her? Donan opened his eyes and looked straight at Shancy. ―You both dinna understand what you're saying. How would I protect her face to face from, Lord Armand?‖ His bitter words seemed to taint the air around them. Shancy ignored his brother's bitter tone and was having none of it for he guffawed and slapped his thigh expounding, ―Exactly the way you do every other blessed thing in your life, brother, with the help of your friends and allies. Those same friends that you helped considerably. And all of us who would not get anywhere without that excellent wit of yours!‖ Donan sighed, thinking a man who couldn't walk had to be more sensible about life, he was not nearly convinced by Shancy‘s grand words, until he heard Analise whispering for him alone to hear, with her voice wavering, ―I have been afraid ever since, Armand, took control of our lives and since my sister was so badly mistreated and she was forced to leave. I was even more afraid. I have always thought that if I were not so simpleminded, I would not be afraid. That I would have more courage. But now I have you.‖ Donan‘s reaction was immediate. He gathered Analise closer, tightening his arm around her back, while he used his other hand to smooth the golden locks from around her face. ―Och, lass, I‘ll not let, Lord Armand, harm you,‖ he said firmly, then adding with haste, ―And, Shancy, vows the same.‖ However, Analise didn't seem to hear him for she was humming softly. A haunting and familiar song that seemed to touch his heart. She seemed like a lost wee elf nestling her nose and mouth into his chest for comfort. ―Analise,‖ he whispered close to her ear, but she said nothing and continued to hum, then she began rocking a bit. He sent a worried glance to Shancy who shrugged as though to say she was a fragile lady seeking comfort. He might have agreed except something deep inside him spoke of other things. He‘d seen Analise‘s courage, her impishness, and her stubbornness. This was something else . . . Somehow to do with the foolish notion that she called herself simpleminded. There was nothing

simpleminded about sweet Analise. She was fresh air and sunlight through and through. Donan sighed heavily and tilted his head to Shancy in a silent gesture that they should proceed on. He would give Analise a bit of time . . . he would hold her to him even though he knew he shouldn‘t. ***** At their simple meal that night in the camp they‘d made for the evening Donan judged Analise was finally more herself. Nonetheless, it had taken most of the day with her barely speaking two words. He'd not pushed her, because some inner sense, which spoke to him about her gentle soul, whispered to him to let her find her own way back to him. She'd visited another place today and he felt if he pushed her, he might lose her to that other place. He was more worried about what to do when she came back to him. He would have to be very careful. It hadn't been until several hours after midday that their travel on a wooded path had frightened a clutch of white-tailed quail into a flurry of feathers and darting flight. The sound and the sight had caught Analise‘s attention with a look of wonder and delight, dispelling her earlier vacantness as if it were a ghostly spirit never there. Alive came her impishness and her affection, like a golden rain drenching him with its warmth. Donan forgot his worries, forgot his own stubbornness over certain issues, and for a few moments he forgot that he was hopelessly crippled. And not a man for any sweet and fragile lass. Nevertheless, reality crept in with the closing of the day when he needed to be slung off his horse and later helped to relieve himself. But then slowly, they settled around a warm glowing fire that turned the yellow highlights of Analise‘s fair hair to golden sprinkles as he lay propped on his side and he watched her laughing at Shancy‘s gregariousness. ―Tis not true!‖ Analise was giggling over one of Shancy‘s outrageous tales involving a rabbit, a young maid, and a clumsy knight, which he told the whole while, swearing that it was true. ―Cheval, my sister would never believe such a thing,‖ Analise exclaimed. ―She would say I was too gullible . . . And so I shan‘t believe you either!‖ ―You have a sister, lass?‖ Shancy asked, suddenly growing serious. ―I do,‖ Analise murmured as Donan watched her. Analise reached out her hand toward his and he unconsciously reached forward and clasped her hand feeling its warm softness against his own rougher palm. ―Tis all right, lass,‖ Donan said, smiling at her, encouraging her. ―And where is this sister of yours, sweet lady?‖ Shancy asked. ―She‘s-,‖ Analise squeezed Donan‘s hand. ―Tell us, lass,‖ he encouraged her quietly. ―She is at Saint Angelics Convent. B-But, I do not know if she is alive.‖ Donan pushed off his supporting arm just in time to catch Analise as she burrowed into him, flinging her arms around his neck. He held her close looking at Shancy, and then he said, ―Analise, I don't want you to be afraid.‖ He lifted the hair off her shoulder, and he murmured in her ear, ―Don‘t leave me again, nightingale.‖ She pulled backward a bit to look up at him. He could tell that she was struggling to be brave for him. ―I don‘t want to,‖ she whispered. ―That is good.‖ He caressed her cheek lightly. ―Do you think you can tell us about your sister now? About what happened to her? I know you told me a bit, but . . .‖ Analise nodded and loosened her hold on him, until she could sit in the circle of his arms and speak to Shancy also. ―My stepbrother Armand, g-gave her to, Red Kife, one night. H-He bade, Kife, to rape h-her. I didn't know until the morning that it had happened. She was so scared. "Analise paused and took a deep breath. ―Later in the dark of the night, Armand, had her taken to Saint Angelics, while he kept me locked in the cellar, so I couldn't see her go. But, I

heard him saying if she didn't lose her inheritance to him because of the bastard babe she now carried, Red Kife, could go to the Convent and kill her, and then, Armand laughed, saying, ‗accidents happen to bitches carrying bastards all the time‘.‖ ―Och, lass,‖ Donan murmured, as Shancy shook his head. ―The bloody bastard,‖ Shancy cursed as he furiously tossed a twig into the fire. Donan took Analise‘s chin and turned her face to look at him. ―She is the eldest then?‖ ―By two years, Donan.‖ ―You don't have to answer if it‘s too much, lass, but what was he to do with you? Would you not inherit after her?‖ he asked. ―I don't know,‖ she whispered. ―We were all from the Ethigilo, so daughters inherit the same as sons. I never thought of it.‖ ―The Ethigilo?‖ Shancy asked. ―It that not a Saxon faith?‖ ―Oh!‖ Analise gasped, holding her small fingers to her lips. ―I wasn't supposed to . . .‖ ―It‘s all right, imp,‖ Donan said quickly. ―You‘ll not find, Shancy or me, with any problems toward that old and noble house.‖ Turning his head, Donan glared at his brother saying tightly, ―Will we now, Shancy?‖ ―Of course not, you bloody old goat,‖ Shancy muttered. ―I was just curious over the, umm . . . the history, I was.‖ Shancy stood suddenly. He was straight and tall with his long legs braced and the golden streaks of his tawny hair catching sparks of light from the fire. ―And I‘m going to get her now. Just see if I don‘t!‖ ―Whoa,‖ Donan began at the quick change, just as Analise squealed happily. ―Cheval! Oh, Shancy, you're going to get, Cheval!‖ ―I certainly am . . .‖ Shancy began. ―Now just a minute,‖ Donan nearly shouted, interrupting him, but he was waylaid by Shancy‘s louder interruption. ―We have no choice, brother, and you know it! We cannot leave your lass‘ sister . . .‖ ―She‘s not my lass!‖ Donan exploded. ―I am to,‖ Analise quipped. ―Then, Glenncannon, why are ye holding her so tight?‖ Shancy asked with an aggrieved shout. Donan instantly let Analise go and tried to scoot backward away from her a bit with his arms, however his little imp was having none of it, because she grabbed him about the neck, until he drug her along too. ―See!‖ Shancy said, shaking a snooty finger at him. ―I will not argue the point,‖ Donan huffed. ―But, I will be arguing about you going after, Cheval, alone!‖ Shancy‘s brown eyes glared at him in a snit. ―And there‘s no time for anything else. I can bloody well take care of myself and the one wee lass in the time it will take to get from Saint Angelic‘s to Saint Helen‘s.‖ Shancy paused and ground his teeth. ―It cannot be more than a day's ride between them.‖ Donan opened his mouth to argue, and then he shut it. It wasn't that he didn't have plenty of good arguments to bolster his argument. He even knew he had enough to change Shancy‘s mind and if that failed as the Glenncannon and Shancy‘s Laird, he could just order him not to do it. The problem was that his brother was right and he couldn't hold him back from doing what was right just because it was dangerous. That and his own need, not to be left alone with Analise, were not enough to wage against an innocent lass‘ plight. ―One day,‖ Donan growled. ―I‘ll send every man I have after you before the sun is down tomorrow eve!‖ ―Well, I would expect no less of you," Shancy said with a devilish grin. ―And you and your lass should make Saint Helen‘s Abby and the Glenncannon men easily from here by

midmorning.‖ ―Aye, tis true,‖ Donan agreed heavily. ―What about mounting Xavier?‖ Shancy asked suddenly. ―Mayhap, I should just prop you up there this night.‖ ―I can manage, you bloody rascal,‖ Donan snapped, then he gathered his temper. ―I found a way to do it myself,‖ he finished peckishly. Shancy raised an arched brown eyebrow at him, as Analise said, ―Then he‘s going, Donan? You are going to let him fetch my sister?‖ ―I am, imp.‖ ―Oh thank you, Donan!‖ Analise instantly pelted him with little kisses, while he groaned. ―Och well, I‘d best be haring from this lovely scene.‖ Shancy chuckled. Donan groaned again. ―Shancy,‖ Analise said. ―You will need to tell, Cheval, something only I would know so that she‘ll come with you and not be afraid. I only know of one thing, but you must swear on your own mother's head . . . both of you must swear never to tell another what I say.‖ Analise looked so serious that Donan stilled his urge to chuckle, wondering what a lovely innocent like she was, could have so secret, as he said solemnly, ― I swear.‖ Shancy followed with his own vow, and then Analise said, ―Tell, Cheval, I have found the man I‘ll cry for. Tell her, two nightingale tears, twin hearts beating together, one Brenin king‘s song binding them together, to ere, to life, to love, you shall be the judge.‖ ―I will remember, my lady,‖ Shancy vowed solemnly as he bent to take Analise‘s hand and he kissed it. ―What does she look like, your sister Cheval, lass?‖ ―They say tis eerie, Shancy, for we look exactly alike, accept, Cheval, has a cupid's mole right below her bottom lip.‖ Donan was startled by this as Shancy bid him goodbye and strode to his mare. It was curious, nearly as if Analise and Cheval were twins, just as in the song. He knew it was a song Analise repeated for Shancy to tell Cheval. It was the same song she'd hummed all day. What was this about twin hearts and a Brenin king? It was nearly as if the song had a purpose. ―Well, we are alone then,‖ Analise hummed near his ear, right before she started kissing it. ―Now, lass,‖ he chided, trying to pull away, although reluctantly. ―Tis bed for you now,‖ he finished as sternly as he could with the lingering impression of lover's kisses tingling in his ear. ―I believe so too,‖ she quipped. ―Where shall we lay, Donan? Right here? Shall I undress or do you want to undress me?‖ ―There, Analise,‖ he pointed aggressively. ―You‘ll be sleeping dressed there on the other side of the fire!‖ ―But, I cannot,‖ she murmured with a pretty pout. Donan forgot all about needing to be gentle with her. All he could think of, in mounting frustration, was the aching bulge of his cock tight behind his breech cloth and the aggravation of trying to go forth with common sense. ―You will be going and sleeping there now, woman, or I vow I will take you over my knee and spank you till I swear you will be seeing wee brownie fairies!‖ ―Oh, Donan, would you really,‖ she gushed with a twinkle in her eyes and a breathlessness that dumbfounded him. Donan grunted nearly in a growl and grabbed Analise‘s waist pulling her down beside him, then he grabbed the rough wool blanket to pull over both of them. ―You lie down and sleep, woman, and not another notion else, just as your lord commands you. This is not a game. I expect obedience or I will be very angry!‖ ―Yes of course, Donan,‖ Analise murmured obediently, snuggling into his side. But then having the good grace to blessedly lay still to his command, while he lay trying to fathom why the threat of spanking Analise‘s bare bottom did not put the fear of God into her. It was nearly as

if she had gotten a wee excited . . . mayhap. Images of her lovely bare bottom displayed over his thighs assaulted him and he began to see things a bit differently. ―Bloody hell,‖ Donan cursed low and sharp, to the increased torture of his stiff and throbbing cock. The bloody woman was going to drive him to an early grave. Chapter Nine Just as she‘d planned, Analise woke with a murmur of excitement deep in the middle of the night. She decided she had but one problem and that was how to get Donan undressed, at least his lower portion, without waking him. Very carefully, she peeked beneath the blanket to judge what she might need to do and was delighted to find Donan‘s tunic had risen high on his waist exposing an expanse of his lean belly above and below his very masculine navel. Also, the ties on his breech cloth were loose as if he‘d barely retied them without thought. If she‘d had the slightest doubts about her intentions before, they were removed, surely providence was shining on her and showing her the way. Very carefully once again, she eased her head beneath the blanket and she was enjoyed to find her beloved lord already stiff and thick for her as she eased his breech cloth aside, seeking out the silky flanged head of his cock with her mouth. However, before she touched the head with her lips, she drew back. It would not work, she must lift up the column of it or she would not be able to get the top into her mouth and she had to get her hair out of the way. It was a ticklish carnal adventure that she'd concocted. Without much thought, she lifted her hands underneath the blanket and began attempting to collect her long hair into a loose braid, while she studied Donan‘s lovely, well-made cock. It really was beautiful. It was as thick and round as a stout walking stick with a ruddy pink coloring seeming to sprout boldly out of the dark auburn curls between his thighs. Just gazing at it so intimately made the secret place between her thighs, her pussy, as Armand had called it so blatantly, hum like a sad and wavering love song. The notes were clinging inside her womb, throbbing in a slow beating aches, only the pain was sweet. Donan laid with his hands behind his head, a bit afraid to wonder what Analise was up to beneath their shared blanked, when abruptly he felt her small hands on his pud-cock. The surprise of that drew his body as stiff as a statue, while he watched the hump Analise made beneath the blanket, lowering. ―Bloody hell,‖ he yelped with his back arching off the ground as Analise‘s hot feminine lips suddenly slid with a wet glide over the head of his cock. ―Ah hh . . . bloody-bloody hell!‖ he exclaimed with a half blissful and half angry snarl as his hands groped around the top of the blankets in a muddled frenzy, trying to catch Analise to pull her away. Only it was too late. Perhaps, if it had not been five years? ―Ah-ah-sweet, Jesus,‖ he moaned again outrageously out of control, praying that he could but hump his hips a bit, to a God who never listened, while his hands cupped over the top of Analise‘s blanked-covered head. His sabotaged lust found him pushing downward, gently ever faster on Analise‘s head, while his sweet-sweet nightingale followed the pressure he used to increase the rhythm with enthusiasm, as she sucked his cock eagerly in her mouth. ―Ah God, I‘m dead . . . ah-hh Christ.‖ Donan tossed his head and pushed Analise‘s small head even faster between his broad hands, sending the blanket flapping with her gyrating motion as he prayed feverishly now that she would not stop till he ... till he! ―Ah hh Christ, Analise,‖ he growled feeling the imminent pressure building to a glorious peak. He was going to spill his seed, deep. Deep into Analise‘s throat. ―Shit!‖ he yelled, grabbing Analise forcefully by the shoulders and pulling her away. ―No, Donan. No!‖ she cried as he flung the blanket aside. ―U-Use your hands, lass, b-before I die!‖ he groaned behind his chattering teeth as he

grabbed her hands clumsily, but managed to place then around his engorged cock. ―Pump them up and down, love, as fast as you can,‖ he begged. ―Squeeze tight . . . Ah hh Christ, Analise. I‘m going to spill!‖ ―Yes, Donan, Yes!‖ Analise cried enthusiastically. Heaven and hell. All the Saints preserve him. His golden and glorious imp would have none of his guidance to keep her mouth away from his ejaculating seed, and his hope to preserve her shocked innocence. Nay, not his imp. She took him again fully into her eager and wet mouth, when there was absolutely no way in heaven or hell that he could stop her, for he was bellowing like a great raging cat. He was seeing stars and feeling ecstasy ripple his pud-cock like a storm at sea. Analise suckled him and suckled him, until all he could do was shudder, laying on his back, panting as though he were catching his last breath on this earth. Blessedly, after a while Analise became still, and then she laid her cheek to his thigh, only stroking his balls every now and then as if to remind him of her presence. But he did naught but lay still, terminally glad she'd not risen up to see him, where she would have discovered his unmanly tears. Tears of anger and of joy, it was so complicated inside of him. However, the anger won through his determination to hide his less than manly emotions and he scrubbed his sleeve over his eyes, then he sat upright with a rough grumble shaking his chest. ―Donan, w-what?‖ Analise gasped as he hauled her upward none too gently, then he pushed her down onto her stomach, where he grabbed her wrists behind the small of her back. ―We could have been killed just now!‖ he shouted. ―Did you no realize that? Obviously not!‖ He muttered angrily as he pulled a throng around Analise‘s wrists and he tied them firmly, thinking all the while that it mattered not, because he couldn't have fought anyone with or without his pud-cock in this angel's mouth. He was a cripple for christsakes, what would he have done . . . jumped up! However, none of these thoughts were as righteous as he angrily felt, trying to hide his emotions at all costs. So he continued with his actions and he tied Analise‘s slender, baby soft . . . damn them . . . ankles as well, while she lay prone to his imprisoning, not fighting him or making a sound. By the time he turned her to face him, his anger had grown larger within his growing guilt. ―Now, you‘ll not be getting into any more trouble,‖ he muttered as he spent a great deal of time arranging the blanket over her. ―I will untie you at first light,‖ he added in a bass grumble. However, as he looked down at Analise, she said nothing and harder still, there was not condemnation in her vibrant blue lover‘s eyes, only longing, a longing so deep it darkened the blue in her irises to near ebony shades. ―What am I to do with you?‖ he whispered helplessly. ―Love me, Donan, please,‖ she begged. ―I ache so. I‘ve n-never felt this way . . . it nearly hurts.‖ ―It is for your husband, when you marry, to take that ache away, Analise, . . . not me . . . not now,‖ Donan finished hoarsely. ―You don‘t want me!‖ Analise cried, with huge tears billowing in her eyes. ―You never did! It was only my addled mind. Oh God–God, I am touched with simplemindedness to believe that you could have loved me so quickly!‖ ―Nay,‖ Donan growled savagely. ―You are not this simpleminded that you speak of!‖ Donan grabbed Analise‘s waist pulling her upward to face him as the misery inside her caught her sobbing, while her beautiful face twisted in confusion and pain. His light and lovely Analise, how could he do this . . . how could he not? She called to his soul, she broke pieces of his heart that he‘d never known he had before meeting her, and he growled in sharp pain . . . woefully. ―Ah bloody Christ, woman! By all that is holy—I love you!‖ Analise gulped in a hiccup-

cough and stared at him with crystal tears kissing her flushed cheeks, as he groaned. ―God, Analise, I‘ve loved you since I first rested my eyes upon you, lass. Do you ken? It is not you! You are laughter and light, pure golden sunshine, lass. You are so sweet and tender that you bring tears to my eyes. By God, woman, I would give up my legs just to have you as mine!‖ he exclaimed in a rumbled epitaph that left his chest heaving as though he‘d run a great distance. Silence rained between them as he lifted her to him, kissing away the tears on her cheeks, slowly and thoroughly, while she whispered with a catching voice. ―D-Donan, did you hear what you said . . . did you hear?‖ ―Aye, lass,‖ he mumbled around kissing her eyelids closed. ―It came retching out of me despite myself.‖ Analise‘s tongue tickled his bottom lip as he kissed the tip of her nose, and then he tilted her head back to follow that impish pink point, as she whispered in the convent of his lips. ―I belong to you.‖ ―Aye, lass,‖ he murmured around her lips as he delved into her sweet mouth, tasting and sipping her tongue and lips slowly and passionately. He laid her down then, on her side, going down with her, while their lips stayed hooked together in the beginning of a tongue plucking furor as he propped her head on the bundle they'd used for a pillow, so he could free his hands. Dimly, he realized Analise‘s wrists were still tied behind her, as he loosened the ties of her tunic and peeled it down to her elbows, baring her breasts, which were pulled back because of her tied wrists. A wee blarney devil inside him thought to leave her a prisoner to his starving and lustful imagination. Then, when he lost her lips to pull back and gaze at her breasts, she begged breathlessly, ―Donan, untie me.‖ He merely winked at her as he traced one of his fingers through her cleavage, making her thrust the pearly pink points of her nipples at him, while he chuckled in appreciation, fingering the under belly of her buoyant breasts, enlisting a dramatic shiver of come-hither from her. ―I‘ll not untie you, sugar lass, until you‘ve tasted some of the blissful torture that you‘ve put me through,‖ he murmured as he moved his finger under the curve of her creamy breast toward her quivering, pink-tipped nipple. Her tongue slipped along her bottom lip leaving the primrose color damp as her eyes turned luminous in midnight blue. ―Donan,‖ she moaned with a flute like sound as his fingers found, touched, and then smeared back and forth over the hard bud of her aroused nipple, tightening it to further jeweledhardness. Jesu, to view a bare-breasted woman who wanted him, feeble legs and all, if he just dared to let himself believe. Whether he was a fool or not for this, whether he‘d regret it, to the high heavens, in the morn . . . he was . . . he would . . . she would . . . in her passion she would be his for this night and that alone was worth any amount of pain he could suffer. Slowly, his hands lifted up Analise‘s skirts as he dipped his lips and fitted them around one of her passion-swollen nipples. Then, he tongued the peak making her breathe gustily. He rolled that pearly stud between his tongue and upper lip as his hands fitted around the swell of her naked hips. She was soft, he thought, tracing the outline of her flexing hips with his hands, feeling her plushly padded hip bone, narrow pelvis bone, and the drawing flesh of her inner thighs, while she eagerly separated them to the invasion of his skimming palms. ―Donan-Donan,‖ Analise chirped, thrusting her breasts higher against his busy mouth as he reached downward and he untied her ankles with one hand, and then he lifted her top leg up over his angled hip, spreading her open to his hands invasion. His mind was churning with erotic inclination. And he was hard again, as hard as he never believed he could get. All the more fulsome because he now knew he was not crippled against release. Nay, his shivering angel had taken him to euphoria . . . made him a man once more, just as he was going to make her a woman. His woman. Only he would not take her maidenhead, even as it thrilled him beyond redemption to realize that he could. He was capable. Perhaps it was a

good thing his lush little imp was tied, for she was an enterprising mite and she would have him on his back, before he had any heart left to protest against her. It scoured his imagination though, to have her tied, making her vulnerable to his pleasure and his lustful mind conjured a wicked and naughty little tribute. Aye, he'd heard of it on the Crusades and it was just erotic enough to have shocked him, but that was before he‘d touched Analise‘s honeyed cradle of womanhood barely hidden beneath fluffy saffron curls. Ah, she could play wickedly with him with her velvet mouth, and he could do the same. His tongue tasted the spongy quality of the underpinning of her breast, leaving a wet trail across her fragile rib cage as he held her active hips still, and then he leaped the boundary of her crumpled gown, which was riding only her navel from where he‘d bared her on top and bottom. He scooted downward, using one elbow, which slid Analise‘s slender leg upward, until the crook of her knee hugged the back of his neck. Twas then his gaze settled with a stunning and lustful shock to where only his fingers had grazed before. A craggy breath pitched from his lungs to his chest as his gaze settled with amazement upon Analise‘s rubicund pussy and the sable colored mark of a nightingale branded there. The dream. Only this was not a dream, this was reality and his gaze lingered in lust upon Analise‘s tenderly exposed pussy, as he wondered, how could he have known? What sense inside him, what fate could this be? Yet his cock throbbed boldly with arrogant answers, as his gaze explored the wonder of the nightingale wings painted on the gossamer flesh of his lover's supple inner thighs and wetting pussy lips. The dream lust rose inside him strongly, tightening his brawn, firming his lips and drooping his eyelids in heated carnality. ―I‘m going to taste you, nightingale, . . . taste you with my mouth and tongue,‖ he rasped, rubbing his thumb along the petal of one sultry, pussy lip. ―Donan,‖ Analise mewled, quivering and nearly trying to escape his hand and forearm anchoring her fleshy-slanted bottom. ―Oh no, sugar lass, you‘ll not escape me with any pretense of shyness,‖ he murmured huskily, using the wide width of his hand to dig into the plump meat of her buttocks, while his fingertips smeared the gathering dew between the folds of her soft pussy. Those fragile and heatstained pussy lips supped his finger deeper, until he used his other finger to separate the fevered lips open. Flaring out the wings to unfold the nightingale‘s heart. Analise moaned with a husky and lingering purr, making him smiled a devilish little grin. ―Your mine now, golden nightingale, . . . to do anything with I crave to do . . . Say it,‖ he charged. ―I‘m yours,‖ she gushed. ―Anything!‖ ―That‘s good, sweet sugar lass, for I‘m baring this pink pearl of yours here to touch my tongue to.‖ ―Ah hh, Donan!‖ ―Aye and lick, Analise, . . . I‘m going to lick you back and forth.‖ Analise squirmed with no place to go. ―Donan-Donan,‖ she moaned. ―And suckle on it with my lips, my sweet-sweet lass,‖ Donan murmured, building the anticipation, holding her perfect treasure open to his torrid gaze, a swollen ruby of passion. ―Please, beloved,‖ Analise moaned lustily. ―Touch me!‖ ―Here?‖ Donan nibbled the inner crease of her thigh and hip, tasting the nightingale mark with his tongue. ―Yess . . .‖ Donan licked and nibbled Analise‘s quivering flesh, ignoring her honeyed pussy, spread open beside where he played. ―Are you sure it‘s here you want it, lass?‖ He teased her mercilessly. Ah God in heaven, he could love this woman till the end of his days. ―Oh Donan, closer!‖ she cried, now trying to arch her rosy wet pussy toward him. ―Closer where, sweet love, . . . here?‖ He nuzzled her silky woman‘s curls, feeling them

tickle his nose and chin as he began to pray for days and days to play with his beautiful woman. ―Ah hh, lower please–please, Donan!‖ she begged. ―Here?‖ He dipped a nuzzle into her erotic little bum hole that tantalized him lustily and sent Analise to moaning and shuttering. ―My pussy!‖ she squealed, and thereby surprising him to no end. It seemed while he could try to stir desire in his little imp with words, she could completely provoke his desire with but one word. ―God, Analise,‖ he growled lowering his mouth to his promise, and then he tasted his sweet sugar lass. ―Oh hh blessed angels,‖ Analise moaned, arching her hips upward. This she had nevernever envisioned! The ache was tightening inside her. The ache was straining upward until all she could manage was to gasp over and over. Each fiery grazing of Donan‘s tongue over the throbbing pearl of flesh he‘d unearthed deep inside her pussy wound her body tauter, until all she could see beneath her clenched eyelids were fairy lights. There were rainbows and sparkles and so-so much pleasure, she could never have dreamed of such beauty. ―Donan-Donan!‖ she mewled incoherently as he tugged her closer, spreading her thighs wider over the blocked brawn of his shoulders. His mouth began to suckle her pearl with a beating rhythm, while one of his wide hands kneaded one of her heaving breasts, and his other hand touched her-! ―Ohh hh hh!‖ Donan slid his fingers out of Analise‘s creamy tight sheath, then he skidded his fingers back up inside her again making her throbbing pussy arch into his mouth. He could feel the beginnings of her climax as molten fire around his plunging fingers. He could feel it beating against the flat of his tongue, until his entire body was straining with her, willing her over the edge. When she climaxed, it was with liquid ripples and crying, ―Beloved!‖ Donan held Analise tight feeling every precious quiver, offering his protection in her abandonment, until she fell limply into his arms and he rested his cheek on her still shivering belly. He didn't try to hide his few tears this time. She had given him something so profound. She'd made him a man again. ―Swear, Analise. Swear to me you‘ll never walk away from me, for I cannot walk after you.‖ ―I swear, Donan, . . . I swear!‖ she cried in a fluted voice, just as she wiggled downward, until she could fetch kisses all over his face as if sealing her bargain, and then she sighed happily, snuggling closer with her eyelids falling closed as she fell into a well satisfied and exhausted slumber. Chapter Ten Cheval jerked awake on her lone cot in the Abbeys novice's cell, when a wide rough hand suddenly covered her mouth. Before she could think clearly she felt the frightening heat of a large presence behind her and her mind leaped with terror. Red Kife! She tried to scream, grasping her hands frantically around her pregnant belly, thinking in terror of her babe‘s life. ―I‘d not harm you. I'm a friend.‖ A voice hissed near Cheval‘s ear, causing her to cry out at its sudden presence, but more at the husky masculine voice, accented with a Scottish brogue. It was not Red Kife, she thought, trying with shaking limbs, to understanding this apparition, made heavier by the spike of terror running through her. She whimpered with fear and a pleading sound, feeling the crushing heat of a large shape bent over her small cot. ―Och, lass, I‘ve no desire to scare you so badly as this, but I couldn't wait for the daylight. Not after seeing that great red brute on the ride here. We‘ve no time!‖ Cheval did scream then, behind the man‘s hand, because terror knew no more horror to her than Red Kife!

―Lass-lass, please,‖ Shancy pleaded, as he tried to still the flaying bundle beneath him without harming her. Bloody hell, he shouldn't have mentioned the red beast to the wee lass. Where was his gilded tongue when he needed it the most? Then, he finally got some sense, but not before he‘d had to lay his entire body over the struggling and frightened woman. What must she think now? He was afraid to imagine, as he fairly bellowed, ―Analise!‖ Cheval stilled her body beneath him with a shiver. Lord, she must have the most generous bosoms he‘d ever . . . ―I know you are not, Analise,‖ he said quickly, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. ―But, she sent me, lass. She is very worried about you and I‘m to take you to where she is.‖ Shancy could feel warm tears on his hand and he berated himself seven ways to heaven for handling this so badly. The poor woman was pregnant, my god and he could feel how fragilely built she was. Petite, yes, but with lush curves. She must fair resemble Analise. ―You‘ll not scream if I take my hand away?‖ he asked finally. He was edgily aware of how little time they had; he‘d been not but a mile or two ahead of this Red Kife and his company of men coming down the very road to the Abbey. The small head beneath his hand jerked a nod that he took to mean yes, so he gratefully lifted his hand. Cheval screamed and brought her hands flaying upward with scratching intent, instantly hearing the surprised grunt of pain when she made scraping contact. Hastily, she tried to roll to the other side of the pallet, but a large hand tangled in the sleeve of her night shift. She wrenched free hearing her shift rip, and then feeling it falling off her shoulder. ―Balls,‖ Shancy cursed, grasping his bloodied cheek. By all that was holy . . . that hurt! ―Oh lord!‖ Cheval sobbed clasping both hands with splayed fingers over her mouth as she tried to find the entryway. She could hear her assailant muttering between a few inhaling grunts, and she could actually see a dim outline of his tall shape in the dark Suddenly, she bumped into the door and she jerked around to push on it expecting it to give with her frantic heave. But it was bolted. From the outside! ―Oh,‖ she whimpered, tugging on it wildly as her heartbeat pounded in her chest. ―No, Cheval, dinna alert them!‖ Shancy raced toward the bewitching fall of blond hair he could just make out by the door. Saints be damned, he had no choice but to use a wee bit of force, and Cheval struggled against it, for one so petite, but she had no hope of winning against his strength. It was a sorry bit of work he knew, imprisoning her with his greater strength, but when he heard the distant clumping of many heavy feet, he knew he‘d been left no choice. ―Och, nightingale, if you ever had just a glimmer of trust in anything I‘ve said. Hold on to it now!‖ Shancy exclaimed, swinging Cheval up into his arms as he went to the window. He used one hand to lift the bar, and then he flung open the wooden-plank shutters. Quickly then, he leaped to the ledge, and then he jumped to the ground a short distance on the other side. ―Put your arms around my neck now, lass,‖ Shancy ordered gruffly, looking down at Cheval, knowing she could see him more clearly now as he could see her. ―I‘d not hurt the babe by carrying you over my shoulder, so you must hold onto me.‖ Shancy heard the oak door inside the Abbey room they had just left crash open behind them, and he turned his head at the sound. ―Bloody hell, I‘ll not let that beast have you . . . I swear it! Hold tight, lass.‖ Out of the pitch-black and rain swollen night a harsh male voice bellowed from the Abbey window, they were racing away from. ―Where‘s me slut! Cheval!‖ Cheval nearly strangled him then, and he could only hope the red bastard had not left many of his knights outside. ―Tis night, lass, and we will lose them quickly once I reach my mare,‖ Shancy exclaimed, through labored breaths. The rain started pounding heavily several minutes later beneath Shancy‘s steady curses, because Cheval only wore a thin shift that was drenched and clinging to her skin in moments. However, when he reached his mare and set her astride its back, he thought better of his cursing,

because the rain would aid their escape. Then when he swung up behind Cheval and reached around to grasp the reins they both heard Red Kife bellowing in the distance. ―Find my slut now!‖ ―Mercy!‖ Cheval cried, just as Shancy kicked his mare forward. Just minutes later, Shancy turned his mare into a burn, and then he brought the animal up shortly. ―Whoa, lass,‖ he hissed quickly, grasping Cheval above her pregnant waist, before she could stumble down off the mare's back and attempt to flee. ―You have trusted me this far, colleen, trust me a bit further.‖ Shancy spoke into Cheval‘s ear, while holding her tight to his chest. ―But they will catch us!‖ she cried, clutching at his forearm. ―Tis a moonless night and raining, my lady. If we are quiet enough they will pass us by,‖ he said, speaking lowly. He wouldn't tell Lady Cheval they would have no hope to outrun the advancing men riding double as they were. It would only frighten her further for no use now. He just prayed his gamble would work. The red knight was brash and he would not think they would try to hide this quickly into the chase. It was at that moment the sound of their pursuers was carried to them on the cold night air and Cheval cried out in fear, turning to clutch her slender arms about his neck. Shancy quickly wrapped her beneath the folds of his woolen tartan, making what he hoped was soothing sound deep in his throat. Her lips were pouted and dry where they touched his neck as she breathed in and out sharply, while he scrubbed her scalp trying to calm her. The pounding hoofs of the stallions drew abreast of their hiding place and Shancy held his breathing steady. He already knew he would fight to his death for the wee lass he held onto so tightly. Without realizing he had done so, he released a harsh breath he'd been holding at the last moment as he heard the stallions continue to pass them by. He didn't know how long it was before he realized that Lady Cheval was kissing his neck, then his jaw, then she clasped his face urgently to pull his lips down to hers. Och sainted Mary, he became quickly aware then at the stunning turn of events! Instinct drove his lips around Cheval‘s frantically searching mouth as he used the force of his mouth to slow her urgency and kiss her more slowly. ―You saved me!‖ she cried against his lips. ―Please I beg you, do not let them take me!‖ ―Never,‖ he hissed releasing her lips, yet she rose impudently upward and caught his lips again. It was the last thing he expected, yet her needs were tangible and even the strength of his honor could not command him to release her persistently soft and tantalizing lips yet. She kissed him as a savior. She was fully willing and open to his increasing demand, and when her nimble tongue stroked along his tongue, a groan escaped from deep in his chest. Savior, master, mine, were the thoughts that swept through Cheval‘s incoherent thoughts as the warrior lord who saved her, suckled her tongue deep into his mouth. It was oblivion, the sweetest and most heavenly oblivion that she could imagine, and she squirmed closer to him wanting more, so much more of this heady oblivion . . . never wanting him to stop. His broad hands began to touch her, stroking down her spine, and then over her hips to hold them tight as he lifted her up to him. She clutched the tangled mane of his hair in her fingers as she rose upward against his strong muscular chest, her breasts pressed flat into the tight brawn as he suckled her tongue ever more slowly, deep, then shallow into his hot mouth. The whimpers that escaped her throat were exciting. She had never thought to feel this fervor of want, rushing through her veins. This is what she sought. Safety, rightness, desire. Oblivion from fear. ―Please,‖ she pleaded into his hot mouth as her fingers roamed instinctively over the back of his neck, over his scalp, then ear, then the side of his jaw as she felt the strong clean line of him. Her persuasive fingers stroked and caressed the heated strength of him with urgency and desire unknown to them before. His answer to her advancing compulsion drew his lips from her

mouth to her jaw line, and then down to the column of her yielding throat. The branding dew of his lips on her flesh cast a tempest whimper from her throat and an earnest growl of male desire from his. Twas then her scouring fingers found his bare flesh between the slashed openings on the front of his tunic. ―Brave, strong knight,‖ she chortled against the burn of his tongue on the soft flesh of her throat. ―Shancy,‖ his voice pressed in a rumbling that curled her fingertips into the hardened sinew across his chest. His name rang like divine will in her mind. ―Shancy.‖ Cheval's voice found the ember-low sound of never before known whimpers of desire as Shancy‘s mouth plundered deep into the cleft of her breasts. His nimble fingers brushed aside the meager barrier of her torn night shift and the cold night air flashed across her bared breasts. Quickly, so irresistibly the cold was replaced by the encompassing heat of Shancy‘s voluminous knight's hands cupping and lifting her plentiful breasts into his palms. The points of her nipples were like pinched spokes, so tight and thrusting. She gasped at the grazing of Shancy‘s palm along the very tips. That fractious sensitivity was so surprising and overpowering, it stung pleasure from the jutting points of her nipples, and then it swept like a tempest through the supple flesh of her breasts, and twirled downward through her belly, to collide in her sex with a bursting of intense rapture. ―Lady Soft,‖ Shancy‘s voice rumbled like the deepest beat of a drum in her ears as his hands shaped her trembling desires and she moaned with essential need. ―Please, yes.‖ She could find no thought for her words, only needs as Shancy kneaded her breasts in his large hands. Compulsion flowed through her fingertips as she bared his chest, tugging open his tunic roughly to do so. Then the tempest that was dripping in her sex commanded her fingers to his nipples. Mindless within the arousals flowing through her eager body, she attempted to mimic the action she fiercely desired to feel, by plucking the nubs of his male nipples. ―Ah, Holy Christ,‖ Shancy expelled, roughly. Then his head lowered between her breasts and she felt the unshaven whiskers on his chin chafe the rounded flesh of her breasts. The ripe pleasure this stung through her body brought a gasp from her lips. Yet, she was totally unprepared for the next biting sensation on the tip of her nipple. ―Oh hh!‖ Cheval‘s fell backward against the intense nips of arousal thrashing deep and hot into her loins. Shancy‘s strong arms caught her, yet he did not lift her back to him, but lay her back over the neck of the mare shifting beneath them. His lips followed closely, latching onto her nipple again as she scraped her fingers down his muscular arms. Her restless head thrashed from side to side as her mind found the frantic blankness of mindless pleasures reaped into the depths of her very soul. Savior, master, mine. Shancy knew somewhere within the burning edges of his lust that he needed to stop this. How he'd gone so far was incomprehensible, yet his body was rigid and tight with demanding arousal. Even as he licked Cheval‘s tender nipple, which was twisted and tight and poking his tongue, he willed control over himself. Yet, the urgency was nearly irresistible. He was not a ram, to just fuck a lass without a thought or care, but he'd never felt a zealous need such at this before. So quickly and so consuming. He was wrought to overpower it and the woman beneath his loving mouth and hands, was pure passion and need. He could feel it on her jumping and eager flesh. He could smell it, the musky hot vapor of her arousal. He could hear it in the whimpers of her encouragement and lusty need, curling from her tender throat. Such feminine and enthralling sounds he'd never heard before. They filled him, and then throbbed heavily in his prick, while urging him onto wild, lusty, and carnal pursuits.

Holy Christ, what was he going to do? He growled deep in his throat, trying valiantly to win the battle. He was here to save the precious lass. Not to fuck her, silly. Yet, when he finally managed to raise his head with trembling force, his gaze collided with Cheval‘s and he knew he'd gone too far to retreat. Cruel would be the man that left a woman in such need. Yet, he could not . . . would not take his cock to her tender pregnancy. He knew she'd been raped and that thought managed to bring him under some semblance of control as he stared into the liquid dark pool of her desirous gaze. Och, to have a woman looking at him so. It curled tightly into his chest and with her look of imploring love and desire upon him, he was able to thrust his own selfish lust to the side. And what he wouldn't give to fulfill her every desire, he thought, as he brought his arm around her side to hold her firm against his stout mare‘s neck, whilst his mouth dipped to her lips. Then, when he had captured Cheval‘s frantic kisses solidly beneath his pressing lips, he snuck his free hand like a slippery midnight thief to the bottom hem of her night shift. Her bottom was still settled sideways between the V of his thighs straddling his horse. And as he leaned over Cheval, raising the hem of her wet and clinging shift, he could not dissuade the press of his stiff prick against the upturned globes of her buttocks. Yet, he swayed his mind to his fingers explorations, determined to command the hotblooded demand of his cock. Cheval‘s flesh was warm and soft, trembling under the stroking of his fingers as he caressed her calf, knee, and then petted bravely to her inner thighs. The lass was without drawers in her nighttime attire and the discovery of that heated his tongue to boldness. He found himself without the will to stop his tongue‘s penetration of her eager mouth. She tasted of feminine nectar, wild and needy, as his tongue leaped against her impetuous tongue, until he willed it beneath his to suck on. She moaned, humming the sound like desire in his mouth, yet what bounded over the furnace of his lust was her upper thigh lifting and opening herself to his fingers. He'd never had a woman of more passion beneath him. Cheval‘s entire body spoke of wanting him with an urgency that nearly felled him as his fingers found the lips of her soft pussy. Delicate hot folds of flesh, wet and sultry with need. It was as though an ember for him, and him alone, smoldered there. It was a fire ember that he needed to stroke to flame. Cheval felt the draw of Shancy‘s mouth deep on her tongue. The force and pumping rhythm of it undulated her hips with ever increasing urgency. The demand to open her thighs overpowered her as her sex puffed outward greedy and wet. Oh lord in heaven above, she needed something so desperately. If only she could name it. The frantic demand for it scorched her body with evermore ancient carnal motions and her fingers sought desperately to find it. Then within her driving and searching, and needy passion, she touched it, but at the same moment it touched her core. ―Shancy!‖ she cried, feeling the intense aching in her sex, centering on Shancy‘s fingers. One stroking her sex lips to sweet passion, while the other petted bursting fire over a nub buried deep inside the folds of her loins. Her fingers curled over the shaft of Shancy‘s manhood beneath his braes. ―Lass,‖ he groaned harshly over her lips as she ground her sex against his fingers ever faster. Then, she knew what the demand was. She knew the need and the only beat that would fulfill her. Tightly she grasped what she could of Shancy‘s thick hardy manhood, and she stroked it snugly to the rhythm of her body. ―Do not stop. I beg you!‖ she cried. ―Never,‖ he uttered as his fingers drummed over the engorged nub burning in her sex. ―Faster,‖ she pleaded as her fingers drew more rapidly on his throbbing manhood. ―Ah Christ, Cheval,‖ Shancy groaned. ―Dinna stop.‖ ―Never,‖ she cried as he lifted her calf over the crook of his neck, spreading the lips of her loins wider to his finger that was rubbing desperate pleasure over the nub in her sex.

―Oh hh,‖ she moaned as the pleasure tightened, twisted, burning higher and Shancy‘s manhood twitch and grew thicker beneath her pumping hand. She could feel the drum beat of him in her hand. The pounding in her loins. ―Savior. Master,‖ she cried, as the fire inside her erupted, quaking through her sex in rapture. At the same moment, Shancy groaned with a suppressed roar and his manhood beat hard, beat again, then again. Shancy‘s mouth crashed over hers sucking her cries of pleasure deep into his mouth as the storm on the burn crashed around them, drowning out the sounds of their passions intertwined. Slowly, Cheval came back to herself with an odd mixture of confusion and a laxness to her limbs that was difficult to overcome, and then suddenly she felt alarmed. What had she done? She felt a stranger to herself. A complete and utter stranger! Embarrassment flashed in her chest as she snatched her night shift down to cover her bare thighs. Panic began to churn in her breasts. She couldn't understand what had become of her, what had coerced her to throw her innocence at a man that she didn't know? ―Whoa, lass!‖ Shancy tried to snatch Cheval back, but she was too fast and the move was too sudden. Cheval slid down off the mare with a move that completely blind-sided him. ―Cheval!‖ Shancy leaped down to the ground after her, when he realized she was not merely stretching her legs or some other womanly affair, but instead fleeing off as though she were being chased. Yet the most telling part there was something amiss, were the anxious whimpers cascading from her throat. He kicked himself three times to the holy day for being an ass, as he chased Cheval who was fleeter than he could imagine in the rain and slippery ground. Through the pelting rain, he caught glimpses of her white shift harrying out in front of him, and he broke to the left, sprinting forward to intercept her. ―Cheval, stop, lass! It‘s not safe!‖ Shancy skirted a tree and Cheval ran directly into him. She screamed as though he were a ghoul, and tore out of his hands at once. He caught her directly, as she screamed and fought him. She was soaked with rain and her shift was plastered to her body making her slippery. They played the catch and struggle free, several more times as he exclaimed repeatedly for her to stop. He wondered why she feared him so suddenly. But in the frantic struggling that thought flew away with the greater need to stop her, to make her understand, to help her. He was nearly becoming as frantic as she was. ―Cheval! I‘d not hurt you. Stop! Please stop!‖ Nothing he said was working as he finally tackled her in a bear hug from behind, wrapping his arms completely around her. She wrestled in his grasp panting wildly; at times he lifted her feet off the ground trying to stop her. Nothing he said seemed to cut through her panic, and he was at his wits end, when it finally came to him. ―Twin hearts!‖ he bellowed. ―Two nightingale tears, twin hearts beating together! One Brenin king's song binding them together! To ere, to life, to love, you shall be the judge!‖ Shancy gasped as though the air had been wretched from his lungs and Cheval fell limp in his arms sobbing. ―Thank God,‖ he exclaimed, turning and lifting Cheval up into his arms as she sobbed Analise‘s name. ―Aye, lass, aye. I‘ll take you to your sister.‖ ―I don‘t know what I was doing,‖ she wept. ―I don‘t know what happened. I don‘t know you,‖ she gasped. ―But the song!‖ ―Hush, lass, hush. Tis all right, little one. Hush now.‖ Shancy murmured. He thanked God repeatedly for the song, as he took Cheval back to his mare, and then on to find Cheval‘s sister as he should have done without stopping on the burn. Chapter Eleven

Donan held Analise close knowing the fear and joy of love mingling as one. He was not a foolish man, but a reasonable and thoughtful one. His fear stemmed from his vulnerable position of the moment. If he could but get Analise to his holdings and his clan in Scotland, he would never fear for the lass‘ safety again. Or his inadequacies. He was a God-full man and now as never before he needed a wee bit of luck and a huge helping hand from God‘s blessings. Yet, the fear inside him was reasonable and it itched at him to no end. He would never be able to live with himself if Armand captured Analise to him again. Even though he knew he could raise an army of clansmen to take her back. But a man‘s worth was in holding safe that which he loved so dearly and to be willing to fight to the death to protect it. He'd never desired anything as much as this in his life. Not even the use of his legs came near to it. The want and overpowering need of it dared him. He was strong of mind, even if he was not strong of body. Now he had to use all his cunning and wisdom as never before and it was past time to start. He was vulnerable on the ground, but he was not as weakened atop a horse. ―Analise,‖ he whispered. ―Analise, my love, wake up, lass. We must go.‖ Later, Analise gazed at the side of Donan‘s stern jawline in the early morning twilight. She rode sideways in front of him upon Xavier and she knew Donan was worried. Very worried. Her arms were clasped loosely about his sturdy waist as she realized too late how much danger she'd thrown her beloved into. The whirlwind of events up to this point had nearly left her gasping, and falling helplessly into love did tend to take ones thoughts away from anything else. But now, she could feel the urgency and tension in Donan‘s body and the tone of his words. It flowed through her and made her ashamed that she should put the man she loved so much in such a position. ―So, lass, you‘ll do two things for me from this point on with all the faith you have.‖ Donan‘s breath blew warm puffs against her ear as he tilted his head down to speak to her. ―You are of my Clan now, Analise. We are the Clan of the Eagle and that makes you a warrior as men, women, and children alike in our Clan. And, Analise, the first law of the Clan is to follow your Laird‘s commands. You must do so without any questions and as quickly as you are able to.‖ ―And you are my Laird now, Donan?‖ Analise felt the warmth of it filling her up and easing some of her fears. ―Aye, I am, Analise. From now and for always.‖ ―I promise, Donan.‖ She tightened her arms about his waist. ―Aye that is well, lass. I trust you with my very soul.‖ ―Donan,‖ she murmured, leaning upward to lightly kiss the eagle tattoo along his jaw. ―And the second thing, sugar lass. I want you to memorize one more line I‘ll give you to your song. You are never to forget it and you are to sing it out loud if I command you to.‖ ―The special song, Donan?" ―Aye, lass, the special song. Our song, don‘t you think, lass?‖ ―Oh yes I do, Donan,‖ she exclaimed. ―Ever and for always.‖ ―The nightingale and the eagle,‖ he vowed. ―Yes, Donan, the nightingale and the eagle!‖ ―Then you will add this to the song and never forget the words. It will make it our song. The words are . . . hand fasting forever with the eagle, my heart.‖ ―Donan.‖ Analise sighed with her eyes gleaming as she reached her hand to his hands on the reins. ―Like this, Donan? Hand fasting?‖ Donan released the reins from one hand and intertwined his fingers through her fingers, clasping her hand to his. ―Aye lass, this is our special hand fasting.‖ Donan looked to the north. The border of Scotland was a few short miles from where they now rode. However, his men and the Abbey, were further along in a direct line with the border. At the Abbey they would be even closer to Scotland. He needed both his men and that border. He

needed to know his brother was safe and not in need of the Glenncannon knights. He couldn't go haring off to Scotland now, even though it might be safer for Analise, and the need to bind her to him was so strong. He sighed. How much could a man with useless legs be expected to do? Then, Analise began to softly sing the song beneath his chin. It was their song, and the words filled him. He knew then that a crippled man could hope to conquer the world. He went south . . . He was a Laird, a man, and he hoped to be a husband. That would conquer his world. By mid-morn they were nearing the Abbey. He'd not taken the main road, but a circuitous one. The day was sunny when he wished for more clouds and rain. He was perhaps a quarter of a league from the Scottish border and he had to piss. He ignored it. Nothing in heaven or hell was getting him down from atop Xavier until he reached Scotland with Analise, he vowed silently. ―We must be quiet now, Analise. Hold tight.‖ Donan felt Analise nodded her head in silent affirmation. Twas good she'd taken his words to heart, and he smiled with the thought. A man could smile through tension. Then, he clicked his tongue commanding Xavier down to a slow walk. He would look about a bit before he went closer. The Abbey was peaceful which would be normal. The peace of it though, soothed him a bit more. His knights would be peaceful . . . respectful, yet Armand‘s knights would bring disturbance and not harmony. From the distance, as he sat atop Xavier, he could just make out the warhorses all tied off on the east railing of the Abbey. His men would be inside waiting. He sincerely hoped so. He clicked his tongue, yet again moving Xavier into a slow walk. There were no sentries, anywhere. His quick gaze should have caught sight of them and he would not have missed them. Glenncannon knights always posted sentries, even at a peaceful Abbey. Donan squinted his eyes looking closer at the warhorses as he drew nearer, while his shoulders filled out tightly with more tension. He wished the horses hindquarters were not facing him but were sideways so that he could see the gear and see the heralds. Another man might assume. He was not another man. He pulled up on Xavier‘s reins halting him, then he hooked one arm about Analise‘s waist. He did not wish to startle her when he gave the eagle's call. He chose an eagle's striking call. It was loud and would bring Glenncannon men to arms at once. The sound echoed shrilly over the Abbey as Donan tensed, counting his heartbeats. Two . . . three . . . four. He knew it then, at the same moment Armand threw open the plank doors to the Abbey, bellowing, ―After them! Now!‖ Analise cried out, burying her face into his chest as he wheeled Xavier about roughly with all the strength that his arms possessed. All his fears and hopes were in Xavier now. That thought flung through his mind as he pulled down low over Xavier‘s neck, while Analise clung to him. Then, he commanded Xavier into a gallop. But just as Xavier was leaping forward and nearly past the graveyard into the heather, he heard the lethal sound of arrows. He puffed his body out as broadly as he could to cover Analise as he prayed and bellowed a curse on the same tongue. Then, he heard the sickening thud of an arrow hitting flesh so solidly it twanged in his ears like a roar. No pain. All he could think was that he felt no pain, unless it had struck his legs. Or . . . ―Analise,‖ he groaned. Yet she would have screamed, and then he felt Xavier falter beneath them. ―Nay!‖ His great warhorse held no armor any longer. A pet. A pet that was being used in a war. How cruel of him. But as all this flashed through his mind, his gaze was riveted onto the heather. He had to reach Scotland. And as cruel and shameless as he was, he urged his faltering Xavier on. ―Ride, laddie! Ride! Please, God, ride!‖ But his brave Xavier would make only a few more strides, not reaching the heather, before he shuddered to a thrashing halt. Xavier was going down and Donan pried Analise from him at the same time shoving her with all the force he possessed, as he yelled, ―Jump! Jump, lass!‖ Analise‘s cry of terror scorched his ears as he saw her hit the ground on her side, then she

rolled into the heather. Xavier crumbled beneath him and he hauled up harshly on the reins driving the bit deep as he commanded Xavier to bow, with tears stinging his eyes at his cruel need. If Xavier went down onto his side, he would be trapped. The sound of Xavier‘s pain struck his ears, but his brave and fierce stallion came to rest on his haunches and not on his side. ―Analise you bitch! Eagle, I‘ll have your head on a platter for this!‖ Donan winced at Armand‘s shout as he looked up and he saw Armand wheeling in his stallion tightly, before he jumped off and he rushed to Analise. God help him, Donan prayed fiercely in his mind, just before he shouted, ―Sing! Analise! Sing!‖ Analise‘s voice came shrill and wavering as she began to sing. Then, she screeched when Armand grabbed her, hauling her roughly to her feet, yet she bravely continued to sing. ―Thank God.‖ Donan muttered harshly as he jerked loose the last of the ties holding his legs to Xavier‘s back. ―T-Two nightingale tears, twin hearts beating together. One Brenin king's song binding them together.‖ ―I stole her!‖ Donan shouted as he flung his body sideways to land on his belly in the dirt. ―I‘ve not the money to buy her! She did not come willingly with me.‖ ―Donan!‖ Analise stopped her singing to cry his name in disbelief. Donan began dragging his body forward using his elbows as he raised his gaze to Analise‘s frightened gaze. Armand had his arm clamped across her chest as though he might crush her, while he stood behind her. Even her small heels were off the ground. Donan mouthed the words, ―Sing‖ even as he dragged himself through the dirt toward the heather. Two more pulls. He prayed fiercely, and then Analise began singing again. Thank God, she was near the end. “Is this true?‖ Armand shouted, shaking Analise harshly. Her song faltered, but then the last lines became clear. ―T-To ere, to life, to love, you shall be the judge,‖ Analise sang. ―I say tis true!‖ Donan shouted, trying to distract Armand as his hand touched the heather. One more pull. Donan heaved, dragging the weight of his legs behind him. ―And you crawl for my mercy!‖ Armand shouted ―Hand fasting forever with the Eagle. My heart!‖ Analise sang. ―I crawl to reach Scotland,‖ Donan growled fiercely, then he raised his voice into a bellow, praying there were monks within an earshot. ―I hand fast you, Analise! I make you my wife before God and on Scottish soil!‖ ―No!‖ Armand shouted angrily. ―It is a trick! A hoax! English do not believe in such a thing. No one heard!‖ Armand looked about wildly, and then he turned Analise toward him shaking her, as he yelled, ―You‘ll never speak of this or I will beat you!‖ ―They heard!‖ Donan shouted, rolling onto his back and pointing to the handful of monks standing at the Abbey entrance. ―She is my wife, bound by Scottish law! Now release her!‖ Donan rolled back glaring as much as he could on his elbows. ―I‘ll kill you!‖ Armand looked as though he were lathering at the mouth as he began to tug Analise toward his horse. ―And you‘ll be hanged a murderer by your king!‖ Donan shouted. ―Or hanged as a kidnapper of an English Baron‘s lawful wife!‖ ―Nothing is lawful about this!‖ Armand shouted, but he stopped dragging Analise to his horse, looking uncertain. ―She is under age! I am her guardian!‖ Armand finally shouted, looking to the huddled monks as if seeking justice, while Analise struggled fiercely in his grasp trying to break free. Then suddenly, Donan felt the answer to his prayers in the ground rumbling beneath him.

He did not know how he knew, but he knew. Or he prayed. Or he . . . ―Glenncannon to me!‖ he shouted. ―No!‖ Armand yelled. ―Fight them!‖ he shouted to his men. Chapter Twelve Donan saw the Glenncannon knights with Shancy at their lead surge into the Abbey courtyard. The Glenncannon knights met the clash of Armand‘s knights with deafening sounds of metal on metal, men shouting warrior cries, and warhorses colliding. The sounds filled the Abbey courtyard. It was a battle atop warhorses that fell to the ground after the first clash and Donan tore his gaze away, back to Analise and Armand. ―No!‖ he bellowed, because he saw that Armand was dragging Analise toward the back of the Abbey completely unnoticed in the fighting in front of the Abbey. Donan saw that Analise was fighting Armand‘s retreat with everything she possessed, yet she was not strong enough to break away. ―Donan! Donan!‖ she cried, as he began to drag himself back to Xavier. He cursed foully at his lameness with such anger and fury he'd never felt before. His rage fueled him on with more strength than he'd ever possessed, as his blood pounded with it. She was his. He dragged himself atop Xavier with his legs fallen on either side, then his upper body fell over the stallion‘s neck. He clamped his arms around Xavier‘s neck shaking as he hugged the stallion tightly. ―Och, laddie, I need you so badly now,‖ he uttered to Xavier. He'd seen the arrow protruding from Xavier‘s left flank. It was not a lethal shot, but it could be a laming one. Donan was not sure if he shook from anger or from need. ―We have to get her, Xavier! We must save her. Rise, laddie, Rise!‖ Xavier shuddered beneath him, so brave, so full of heart, trying with all he possessed to answer his Master's call. ―Rise!‖ Donan shouted. ―Rise!‖ Analise tried to bite Armand‘s hand as he dragged her through the back door of the Abbey. Armand yelped as her biting drew blood, yet when she thought he might release her, he instead lifted his free hand and cuffed her across the cheek. The pain was shocking it was so quick and her teeth released Armand‘s hand even as she continued to wrestle within his grasp. He'd already used every foul threat he could name, yelling them at her, trying to get her to stop impeding his escape. Yet, nothing he could do or say would keep her from trying to return to Donan‘s embrace. Nothing! ―You bitch! Quit fighting me!‖ Armand yelled. ―You are mine!‖ ―No! Never!‖ Analise cried as Armand manhandled her up onto a raised dais, and then he pushed her in front of a large wooden cross. ―He will never have you first!‖ Armand shouted, slapping her again and the force flung her backward with her spine hitting the wooden cross. Analise slumped from the blow, dazed and clutching her cheek. Then, she felt Armand grasping her wrists. Before she could gather her senses Armand tugged her wrists over her head. He tied her wrists to the cross above her head. Then he stood back. He was sweating and heaving from the effort he'd used and his dark eyes were wild and angry. Analise knew, in that moment, that Armand had been pushed over the edge of whatever had held him back all these years. He was angry and afraid. He was cornered. ―I‘ll not take the Demise!‖ she cried. ―I swear it. I do not want it!‖ ―You are not married!‖ Armand shouted, with his spittle hitting her face as she struggled against the ropes holding her wrists above her head. He was mad. So insane. ―It is illegal! And here and now,‖ Armand flung himself around wildly looking out into the empty church. ―In God's House, I will fuck you and I will wed you! It can be done!‖ he bellowed turning back to her. Analise knew that in Armand‘s mind, as much as he had lusted after her and Cheval, his

true terror came from losing the station he'd gained as a nobleman. Gaul had been a knight with no lands and Armand lusted for more. ―I am your stepsister,‖ Analise cried, knowing it was futile, yet any amount of time gained keeping Armand‘s hands from her was a blessing. ―Wedding a stepsister is legal. Kings do it!‖ Analise wanted to scream at him that she was married, yet she did not want to further incite him. ―We will simply twist the ceremony,‖ Armand said, reaching his hand forward. ―Fuck first! Wed after.‖ His words gave rise to his evil chuckle. Analise screamed as Armand grabbed the collar of her gown and he ripped it to her waistline. There was nothing she could do, but toss her body helplessly as he tore the gown from her body, leaving only the thin under-shift. Hot tears scalded her cheeks as she forgot in her terror and revulsion not to incite Armand further, when she screamed. ―Donan!‖ ―That cripple will never save you!‖ Armand shouted as his hands grabbed the bottom hem of her shift and he began tugging it upward. ―Donan!‖ Analise screamed, sobbing and thrashing her legs. Crash! . . . The sudden crashing sound reverberated through the church, shaking the floor boards. Clomp . . . Clomp . . . Clomp! Analise raised her terror-stricken gaze to see that Xavier had crashed through the Abbey‘s church doors and was now trotting down the middle isle with Donan atop him. ―Donan!‖ she cried as her heart leaped. Donan saw that Analise was hung from the cross like a barely clothed pagan sacrifice. The realization that Armand had his hands upon her curving and helpless body stroked the rage inside him, as he lifted the crossbow that he held with an arrow notched toward Armand. ―The marriage is illegal, Eagle! The king will listen to me! Analise, is too young and I am her legal guardian!‖ Donan saw Armand raising a knife to Analise‘s throat as the crossbow settled on his shoulder ready to shoot. He was deadly accurate with any bow, yet Xavier was shuddering beneath him trying to stay standing and Armand‘s knife was so close to Analise‘s throat. ―It is not true!‖ A woman‘s voice suddenly screamed from behind him, startling him to be sure, but exceedingly shocking Armand. ―We are twins! The same age, Armand! Mary was not our mother!‖ ―Cheval!‖ Analise cried. ―Lair!‖ Armand bellowed, at the same moment his knife lowered and he pointed it toward Cheval. ―Lair!‖ TWANG No mercy, flashed through Donan‘s mind as he loosed the arrow that pierced Armand‘s heart. Then, Xavier careened and buckled, a harsh sound escaping his nostrils as he fell heavily, this time on his side between the aisles of the church. ―Donan!‖ Shancy yelled, and Donan felt Shancy there beside him dragging him free from having his leg crushed by Xavier‘s fall. Jesu, he'd never taken the time to tie himself in or Shancy would not have been able to pull him free. It was a miracle that he was able to use just his arms to stay aloft Xavier as the great warhorse crashed through the doors of the Abbey church. ―You bloody well know how to nearly give me a stroke!‖ Shancy yelled at him, breathing as though he had run a race. Donan looked up at Shancy as they lay on the ground just beyond Xavier. Shancy still held him in his lap with his arms under his armpits. It was a wee bit like a mother holding her babe, Donan thought, as he pushed away from Shancy gruffly, until they were sitting side by side. It was then Donan saw Analise cradling Xavier‘s big head in her lap, crooning over him as tears fell down her cheeks. A woman who looked nearly exactly like Analise knelt beside her and

Donan could only assume that this was Cheval and that she had cut her sister loose. Twas uncanny how closely the resembled each other. ―Will he live, Donan?‖ Analise asked with her small chin trembling. Donan leaned forward and petted Xavier‘s velvet nose near where Analise was gently stroking Xavier. ―Aye, well now that he knows you are not afraid of him, of course he will.‖ Analise‘s lips trembled as his hand clasped her hand and he guided her petting. ―The arrow wound is not fatal, but it took a lot of Xavier‘s heart to do what I asked of him.‖ ―For him to help you save me,‖ Analise murmured. ―Aye, lass, but with tender care and rest there is hope.‖ Analise nodded with new hope shining through her liquid blue eyes. Beside them, Shancy muttered, ―The red knight got away. If, Cheval, had stayed where I had told her . . .‖ ―Your order was silly. I could not leave my sister!‖ Cheval countered, thoroughly interrupting Shancy. Donan looked at the stubborn tilt of Cheval‘s chin and the mutinous glance Shancy gave her, then he looked to Analise. ―They like each other,‖ Analise whispered. ―We do not!‖ both Cheval and Shancy charged at once. ―Aye,‖ Donan followed, and it resounded after their denials. ―Are we truly twin sisters?‖ Analise asked Cheval. ―Yes,‖ Cheval answered quickly as she twisted a length of her blond hair, exactly like Analise‘s around her finger, while her other hand lay over her belly rounded in the middle stages of being large with a child. She wore Shancy‘s kilt over what appeared to be a night shift. That was telling, Donan thought, as he began to undo his own kilt, while listening to Cheval‘s answer. He was very curious to hear the answers. ―I met a very old priest at the Abbey, Analise,‖ Cheval continued. ―So old, he remembered the old Brenin kings.‖ ―The old people,‖ Analise breathed. ―And he remembered us . . . and our father.‖ ―Oh, Cheval!‖ Analise exclaimed. Donan saw Cheval pausing as she peeked uncomfortably toward him, then toward Shancy as she said, ―It could be dangerous to tell anyone. Lives were lost to keep the secret. To keep Analise and I alive.‖ ―Och, and I only just saved your life and now you don't trust me,‖ Shancy began, but Donan held up his hand silencing him. ―It is not that!‖ Cheval exclaimed, then bowing her head. ―I trust you with my babe's life.‖ ―She is worried for your safety, Shancy,‖ Donan interrupted. ―But, lass, those old ties and kings no longer hold sway anymore. All your people are scattered into new people, new lands. I still agree it should be kept between us, but the fact that you and Analise are daughters of a Brenin king is no longer so dangerous a thing to be.‖ ―Daughters of a king?‖ Analise asked as she intertwined her fingers with his. ―Aye, lass. A princess you are. But, I already knew that.‖ ―How?‖ Cheval asked. ―It was the song Analise sings. I would venture to say your father was losing his kingdom and to keep you both safe from his enemies he sent you off with someone he trusted. He also muddled the truths about your ages and about being twins and who your mother was.‖ ―Mary,‖ Analise whispered. ―Mary, must be whom our father trusted.‖ ―Aye, but to protect you more he gave you each the song to one day sing to your husbands, giving them chance to better protect you.‖ ―We never had to stay beneath, Armand‘s, charge,‖ Cheval spoke sharply, and with sadness.

Suddenly there was a clamor behind them and they all looked up. Donan saw his knight Dunn who appeared breathless, and was speaking quickly as he approached, ―My lords, only the red knight escaped. The rest were felled.‖ ―How many of ours, Dunn?‖ Donan asked solemnly. ―None killed, my lord, and only two wounded.‖ ―Good fortune,‖ Donan intoned, then he ordered, ―Have the monks bury them and get a written account from the monks of what happened here for their king.‖ Donan turned to Analise and handed her his kilt, ―You‘ll wear the Glenncannon colors now, wife, and if any ask, you are a good Scottish lass.‖ Analise grasped the kilt. ―Aye, my lord,‖ she replied with a fair Scottish lilt. ―And that goes for you as well, Cheval,‖ Shancy added. ―And you'll keep the kilt,‖ he muttered. Donan looked at Analise‘s smile, as he commanded, ―We ride to the heather!‖ Chapter Thirteen Analise swayed toward Donan wearing an ethereal nightgown, so sheer, the curving outline of her body beneath could be seen in teasing glimpses. The light airy collar had fallen down off one of her creamy shoulders enthralling him, yet the shadowy peeks of her feminine tuft enlivened him. ―Are we truly husband and wife then, Donan?‖ Analise‘s voice was husky and low. A whisper of feminine beguiles. ―Aye we are, wife.‖ Analise‘s returning smile was filled with love and the ever-present mischief that was her nature. ―I think, Cheval and Shancy, will . . . Are-?‖ ―Aye, I do too, lass,‖ Donan said with a bass lilt of pleasure in his voice. ―It could be as the song then?‖ Analise stopped by his feet where he lay on the bedding furs, propped up on his elbows taking in with his gaze everything she offered him to see. ―Aye, our song. Their song.‖ Donan lifted his gaze from Analise‘s loins to her rich blue eyes. ―And you cried for me, lass.‖ ―I did, Donan.‖ She nodded, swaying her honey-gold hair about her hips. ―And I vowed never to walk away from you and I bade to do anything you desire.‖ Donan reached his hand up to Analise and she lowered her hand to his. She bent to do so, giving him a sensuous view of her full cleavage as he intertwined their fingers. ―And I, Analise, vow to do all that you ask of me.‖ ―You do?‖ Analise‘s blue eyes twinkled as her breath caught on a smile. Donan used a bit of effort not to add, "within reason," beneath Analise‘s impish and inventive nature. But aye, he trusted her with his soul. And he loved her. He would ride the merry ride she would bring to him wherever her nimble mind wished to go. And he would be pleased, thanking God every day for this miracle in his life. ―It is truly sealed, Donan, our vows as husband and wife without . . .‖ Then, Analise‘s voice became a whispered purr, ―Without fucking, my beloved?‖ ―Och,‖ Donan tugged on Analise‘s hand propelling her to fall over his chest as she squealed in surprise mixed with happiness. ―So is it fucking you want, sugar lass?‖ His voice rumbled in a chuckle as he turned Analise on her back beside him and he leaned the top part of his body over her. ―Aye, but sweet Analise, I have fucked you pretty in my dreams.‖ ―You have?‖ She smiled, bringing her finger to his bottom lip, rubbing it softly as she gazed up at him. ―Aye, twas sweaty and rambunctious. What type of pretty fucking did you have in mind, sweet wife?‖

―I want you to take my maidenhead and make me yours forever, beloved.‖ She sighed. ―Master.‖ She sighed again. ―Mine.‖ Donan breathed deeply as his lips feathered over Analise‘s lips. He had heard those words in a dream. ―Husband,‖ he murmured against the dampness of Analise‘s lips lifted upward to kiss him softly. ―And you‘ll have to give your maidenhead freely to me, lass.‖ ―Anything, Donan. You know that anything I have is yours.‖ Donan smiled into Analise‘s eager mouth as he deepened his kisses and she wound her arms about his neck, lifting her barely covered breasts to sway against his chest. God had not forsaken him as he oft times thought in the past. God had not forsaken him at all. Analise knew that Donan had declared them husband and wife in what he'd called a handfasting. She was not certain that she understood handfasting. Of course she trusted Donan. Yet, she knew for certain that marriage included the marriage bed, and then a vow-sealing marriage thrust. She would simply have to be creative to receive her marriage thrust. Mmm, but Donan inspired great imagination inside her, she thought, as he touched his tongue to hers. It was as though he licked her tongue with long lingering strokes. Embers of arousal ignited instantly in her nipples, then creeping like a warm stroke into her loins. Her beloved could kiss and kiss. She wound her fingers into his thick hair, while her body responded with anxious undulations against his muscular frame. She appreciated Donan's warm masculine nudity, for he was gloriously naked beneath the furs that had fallen to his waist. She could feel the crisp body hair on his chest, belly, and lower, grazing against her gauzy shift and bare flesh beneath. Donan inspired such hunger inside her. She wanted to roll against every inch of him, taste his hot skin, smell his masculine flavor, and fill herself with him. ―Sweet wife.‖ Donan nibbled her earlobe, then down her jaw to the column of her throat. Her head fell back over his supporting forearm as her fingers foraged on his chest, feeling the strength and brawn power of him. She began teasing his nipples with her fingertips as he suckled the hollow of her throat and they moaned as one in deep purring pleasure. Donan used his teeth to pull the loose collar of her shift downward, until one of her breasts sprang free. The feel of the slowly be stripped and the act of Donan doing it with his teeth was so sensual and thrilling. Her body hummed with small uncontrollable sways of slowly rising desire as her fingertips explored his lean waist, then his belly, while her back arched and she thrust her breasts upward to him. Yet, he did not hastily put his mouth and tongue to her flesh, instead he bathed her cleavage with his hot breath, skimming the inner mounds with his lightly whiskered chin. He nuzzled her deeply as though he inhaled her scent with relish while one of her hands caught his head, pressing him to her as she moaned. Her nipples felt like two small bites on the tips as her hips undulated with mating motions and she pressed her mound into Donan‘s thigh. ―You smell of woman and heat, sugar lass. You feel of warm soft love.‖ His voice rumbled between her cleavage sending vibrations to the tips of her nipples with pulsating aches. ―I want you.‖ She had no poetry of words, only the rising hunger of her need. ―Tell me where, wife. Tell me where you want me.‖ ―Everywhere! Oh, husband, you make me ache so.‖ Analise felt Donan‘s pleased chuckle against her flushed skin as he rubbed his whiskered cheek against the roundness of her breast, following the curve up to the nipple. Once there he rasped the tip, making her gasp in pleasure, while his hands settled warmly over her buttocks and he pulled her mound tightly into his thigh. ―Oh, Donan-Donan,‖ she moaned. The pressure of his thigh against her sex seemed to weep pleasure and the grinding motion wound the aching deeper. ―Och, sweet one, you are wetting my thigh. I want you on my mouth. Over my face,

Analise.‖ ―Donan,‖ she whimpered, as his carnal desires flamed her mind and body. ―Up with you, lass. Give me your honeyed pussy to lick.‖ Donan lifted her so strongly by his arms, urging her to crawl up his body as his hands lifted the wispy shift she wore up over her buttocks. The action of crawling over Donan‘s heated masculine body and thoughts of where she was going to pose her body freely over him, trembled with burning lust through her. It was so naughty and so exciting to straddle Donan‘s face as he gazed up at her with torrid desires searing his darkening gray eyes. This was the loyalty of a wife, she thought, gazing down at Donan, feeling the heat of him warming her inner thighs as his hands clasped her naked buttocks and he pulled her downward, while still fiercely gazing up at her. Her knees slid and the hair on his upper chest brushed the back of her thighs as his head lifted, and he murmured deeply, ―I feel your wetness for me, wife. I smell your need.‖ ―Oh,‖ she sighed, and then his tongue was upon her pussy making her gasp and clutch his head as he licked as though he was tasting her and savoring her flesh. The feel was so exquisite, so thrilling she could not keep her hips still. She wanted more. To feel more . . . Faster. Then it was as though she rode Donan‘s tongue and he encouraged her wanton undulations with his hands on her bare buttocks. He pushed and pulled her body using her bottom cheeks as his tongue played wickedly and fast between the lips of her pussy. ―Oh hh,‖ she moaned, grinding her pussy over his mouth, and then he licked the entrance to her sheath, making her pant in pleasure. He sounded as if he was ravenous as he growled and licked her pussy evermore demanding and thorough. ―Yes!‖ she cried. ―Mate my tongue,‖ he rasped with his mouth full of her loins. ―Donan!‖ she cried, gazing down at him trying to see through the blurring of arousal. Then, suddenly his tongue entered her, and she gasped as raw pleasure rushed through her. Then without one breath between his tongue's thrust, and then next, they gyrated against each other. He plunged his tongue inside her and she rode it. Jerking her hips as though she were riding a stallion, as her cries of ecstasy became stronger and higher pitched. The pleasure inside her twisted into demand as she bounced up and down upon Donan‘s thrusting tongue. Then suddenly at the peaking moment Donan growled, and the heat and sound of it rumbled through her pussy. Yet at the same moment he lifted her upward and away from his tongue and mouth. She cried out, begging him with incoherent sounds to not stop. He was commanding her, but through the roar in her ears she could not hear. Donan lifted Analise off his face, at the same time he sat upright. She slid down his chest and he used one hand to raise his stiff cock, fitting it to her lowering sheath. The momentum causing a stabbing motion as the weight of Analise‘s body impaled her upon his cock. She cried out in pleasure at the same time he groaned in rapture. Then he felt it, clawing over his engorged cock. Analise‘s inner muscles with her hot and wet sheath rolling in trembling climaxes over his hard cock. ―Ah, Christ, wife,‖ he moaned, lifting her buttocks to pull her down again over his leaping cock. ―Oh Christ, that‘s it, Analise. Ride me. Take me, lass! Oh God.‖ ―Yes, Donan,‖ she whimpered, as she used her heels locked behind his buttocks to lift and pull herself onto his cock faster and faster. Her arms clutched his neck and her breasts rubbed wildly over his chest as their rhythm grew more intense. The feel of her was slippery, hot, and gripping around his cock and with each downswing as he enlarged with the imminent beat of release. The way inside was so warm and tight, it urged his arms to more frantic pumping, lifting and lowering Analise, as she straddled his thrusting cock, whimpering passionately. Then the woman that was his love and his life began to grind harder with rising frenzied needs of her own and he felt her woman‘s sheath snatching his cock with constricting grips over and over.

―Nightingale!‖ he bellowed. ―Eagle!‖ she cried. Chapter Fourteen Shancy stood outside Cheval‘s tent in the dark. He looked closely at the closed flapped, shook his head, and then he turned away. He took two steps and he turned back toward Cheval‘s tent once again. His hand ground through his tawny hair as he stared at the flap once again. He was not here for a fuck, but to apologize for a near one, he thought with irritation. Aye, but he wanted another near fuck to be sure. ―Nay,‖ he grumbled. He needed to get those thoughts out of his head. He needed pretty flowery talking now, not raw heated prose. Aye, and had he not always been fair at sweet-talking the ladies. So where was his glib tongue now, when he needed it? He was certainly glad to see Cheval with spirit returning to her as she'd shown in the scene inside the Abbey. Aye, the lass had a sharp tongue and wit to her. He smiled at that, then he suddenly remembered the feel of her beneath his fingers. Why could he not forget it? Was it not just a simple interlude? ―Nay,‖ he muttered. Nothing about it was simple. He still wondered why it had happened. Why he wanted it to happen again. Och, and yet again. He wondered why she'd run from him, and why since she'd treated him as though he was an unwanted relative by her side. She had nipped and pecked at him every chance since then as though they were entered in a challenge of sorts. One that he was unaware of. He cleared his throat, praying his silver-tongue would not fail him this time. ―Cheval?‖ he called. ―Cheval, tis Shancy, lass. Might I be speaking to you?‖ ―No, my lord.‖ Shancy gritted his teeth at Cheval‘s softly called negative. What in the bloody hell was he to do now, especially when he felt like taking the wee lass over his knee and spanking some sense into her, until she saw things his way. There was no way in hell he was going to offer an apology standing outside her tent like a fool for all to see and hear. ―Oh!‖ Cheval's voice gasped suddenly inside the tent. The sound was so sharp and alarmed that Shancy swiftly tugged open the tent flap, rushing inside, half expecting to see the red knight. ―What is it?‖ His shout broke off loudly in the silence inside of the tent, as his gaze lighted on Cheval lying atop the bedding furs clutching her rounded belly. A more beautiful setting he'd never seen, as he tore his gaze away from Cheval to check all corners of the tent for intruders. The way was clear and his gaze tugged back to Cheval. Her thin shift was torn and falling to nearly the tip of her nipple on one side as her yellow-blond hair fell about her shoulders pooling on the dark brown furs like a puddle of sunshine. Her lush blue eyes were wide as though she were surprised or alarmed, and twas then his mind finally fired to the obvious. ―The babe, Cheval? Is the babe all right?‖ Without a second thought, Shancy stalked straight toward her, dropping to his knees beside her, half-heartedly trying not to notice just how much he could see through her thin shift. ―The babe kicked!‖ Cheval exclaimed in wonder. Kicked, Shancy thought? ―Here feel!‖ Cheval exclaimed, looking excited as she snatched his hand and tugged it to her warm belly. Shancy wondered vaguely if this meant Cheval forgave him or if it were a peace offering. But then a miracle occurred and all thoughts flew from his mind, except for one. ―Och, I felt it!‖ ―She is strong,‖ Cheval exclaimed. ―He is stout,‖ Shancy declared. ―A bonny lad!‖ Cheval looked up at him with tears in her eyes. ―I-I wasn‘t sure that I could want him. I-I . . . until mayhap now.‖ ―Oh, lass,‖ Shancy murmured clasping his hand over her hand on her belly as he sat down

beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. ―It will be grand, you‘ll see, Cheval. A healthy fat babe in your arms, smiling sunshine at you.‖ Cheval turned her face into his shoulder with a small tremble. ―You believe that, Shancy?‖ she whispered. Shancy dropped his chin to the top of her head, tightening his arm around her. ―Aye I do, and you have your sister with you now. And, Donan, too. They are husband and wife and that means the whole clan is with you,‖ Shancy paused, taking a deep breath. ―And me, lass. Cheval, you‘ve got me.‖ ―I am not wanton,‖ she exclaimed softly with her body shuddering as she nuzzled tightly into his neck. Och, and he was going to apologize. Bloody hell, he wanted wanton, he realized fiercely. But, Cheval did not need his apology or his wayward lust. ―What you are, Lady Soft, is beautiful.‖ Cheval sighed with her lips pressing to his neck, and Shancy felt the baby moving softly beneath their hands as he wondered what wonderful outcome would transpire from all of this. Aye, mayhap he‘d asked Cheval to ride with him out to the burn tomorrow. A man never could be too sure what might transpire. The End. Read an excerpt from, Owning Arabella by Shirl Anders "Do not stop," Darth said, however he sat up, swinging his long legs to the floor as he turned his head to look at her. A short distance because he was so tall. "But I think you are better," Arabella replied taking another step backward with her hand jerking upward to clutch the edge of the linen wrapped above her breasts. "I am, and I thank you. I would never have believed it, Arabella. It seems it is another reason that I find that I am certain now that I have made a wise investment." Darth actually smiled and it made his brutal face turn appealing with a heady sensual quality to it. "Investment," Arabella gulped. Truly frightened now. Taking another step backward, she wondered now how wise it had been not to take her chance to run. Only she could not ignore her nature, and her nature did not allow her to leave a person, any person, in pain if she could help it. "Do not take another step away," Darth suddenly ordered and clearly Arabella understood that he meant her faltering retreat. "My investment of now owning you," he finished. Arabella's heart froze as Darth's words hung heavily in the room, although, his Lordship did not seem to feel that way. He looked satisfied. "There has been a mistake, your Lordship," she whispered. "Darth." "Darth, then. There has been a terrible mistake." "I see none, but the paper right here that states quite clearly that one Arabella Ormonde belongs to me. Tis even dated." Arabella wanted to scream at him, to tell him that she was from a good and decent family. She was no slave that he seemed more than willing to accept her as. But suddenly, she remembered Victor's last words to her as she fought with him in the hallway of the inn. "Keep your mouth shut or Nicholas dies!" Arabella felt tears forming as she fought them back. Sweet Mary, what was she to do, standing with only a linen to cover her beneath Lord Peregrine's indomitable presence, and he believed he owned her and she could not tell him differently. She would not risk Nicholas' life. "I am a healer and I can cook or work at any labor. I would work very hard for my release," Arabella stated, lifting her chin. At her statement, the indomitable Earl merely stood and looked down at her. Evil incarnate.

The entire motion making Arabella want to turn and flee, but even she with her less than worldly ways realized there was nowhere she could hope to escape a powerful Lord such as Darth was. "That is accommodating, Arabella, but not helpful to me. I have more intimate duties in mind for you and incidentally there is no clause stated in these papers for release. Tis lifetime enslavement." Enslavement! Arabella stumbled backward at the word . . . At the intentions. Darth's hand snaked forward grabbing the edge of the linen between Arabella's breasts. "I told you not to step backward again," he uttered, pulling Arabella and the linen closer. Darth realized that he had to prove his dominance early on if he hoped to mold Arabella. And, he did. With each moment he was close to her, he found himself more determined . . . if not crazed "You are afraid of me?" he asked flatly looking down at her. Arabella jerked her gaze away from Darth's impaling gray eyes. "Of you, not your scar." Arabella wondered with feverish thoughts why she had thought to clarify. Perhaps it was some inner self-preservation which read Darth's diabolical intentions and she sought to soften the blow upon herself. Darth was staggered at Arabella's response. It was true that she was afraid, he could see it. He expected it. However, she did not seem in anyway appalled by his visage. And that excited him. "That is proper, Arabella. It is just the way I would have it in fact." Darth pulled Arabella closer still, taking her chin firmly in his wide hand, pressing upward, until she had no choice but to look at him. "Are you a virgin, Arabella?" Arabella's eyes widened at the implication as trembling fear coursed her belly and both of Darth's hands tighten around what they were holding, as if anticipating her flight. She would not tell him! If he intended rape, well then, he would have to live with the consequences. Because it would be rape. She would fight him with all her power, so he knew it for what it was. Sweet Mary, she had no hope of winning against his strength, if that were his intentions, and why else would he ask her? "I cannot abide stubbornness from my property, Arabella. Tell me at once or I will be forced to punish you!" Arabella was petrified, yet she would not let Darth see her fear as she stared up at him with defiance. "Rape me if you will, you beast." Oh my God, why had she said that? Darth flinched. Arabella knew her last word had hit its mark and she was surprised that she did not feel more satisfaction at hurting him as he was intent on ravishing her. Darth pulled once forcefully with the hand that held the edge of the bed linen between her breasts, ripping it away without warning. Arabella was so stunned, she did not even scream as he grabbed up both of her wrists and placed them together in one of his broad hands. Clamping his fingers around them tightly he began to pull her along behind him. "Rape, Arabella? There will never be rape between us. You will be willing, I can assure you!" Darth pulled her to a dresser, where he opened a drawer and rifled through its contents with his free hand. Arabella finally found her wits and thought to escape him, twisting her wrists and panting with the effort, until he squeezed his hand even more. He was strong as seen in his powerful body stretched tautly beneath the silk of his white shirt. She yanked again, screeching, "Let me go!" But he did not budge. He was like a sturdy oak tree, immovable to her smaller frame and she saw, with alarm, the two belts he pulled from his drawer. One was a two-inch leather strap and the other was a much thinner trouser tie. Punishment! Darth had said punishment! Arabella squealed again, but it did her no good as Darth hauled her to one of the bedposts at the end of the huge four-post bed. There he lifted her wrists high over her head as she wiggled and fought his hold. But he took the thinnest belt and wrapped both of her wrists, pulling them higher to bind the belt around the bedpost securely. Bringing even her heels off the ground. She was hung helpless and naked, heaving from the

exertion of trying to escape him. "God, you are beautiful," he uttered, swiping a broad hand across his scarred mouth as if he had not meant to say it. Darth was standing to the side of her with one of his hands hung down at his side and the wide leather strap dangling to the floor. Arabella clenched her eyes and tensed in terrified anticipation of the lash she knew was coming. Flinching when Darth moved. But no sudden pain came across her back. Instead, she heard the soft whoosh of the feather mattress. Then she dared to open her eyes to see Darth stretched out like a great feline cat laying crossway's on the corner of the bed. His penetrating gray eyes were gazing up at her. She'd never felt more exposed in her life, stripped naked and bound immobile before a man. "I hate you!" she cried, not knowing what else to say or to do as Darth lay there, and then he smiled slowly. Arabella's heart caught unreasonably, for she would never think the brute, the bully, who was so utterly male, could be attractive in his own way. But she did! And that frightened her more than being at his mercy. She could not help it with him looking at her so. Darth's eyes were leisurely sweeping down the length of her nude body, and there was obvious appreciation in their gray depths. Suddenly, she felt unexpected heat flushing her body, drawing her nipples upward into tight swollen marbles. Oh heavens! Did this man not abuse her, take her clothes, tie her up, and promise to-to whip her? She was so confused as she wiggled beneath Darth's gaze, feeling suddenly breathless. "What are you going to do to me?" She could stand it no longer. "Are you a virgin?" Arabella clamped her mouth shut defiantly. "You are stubborn, little dove." Darth brought the strap upward and flicked it around behind Arabella, catching the other end with his hand as he lay on his side. Both of his hands now held an end of the strap, as the strap itself settled across the under curve of Arabella's plushly ripe bare buttocks. Arabella gasped twisting against the soft leather corralling her sumptuous ass and Darth sawed the leather back and forth. She tried to arc away from the insidious leather, and the movement thrust the firm globes of her breasts upward, exploiting the fevered peach colored thrust of her nipple buds. They were swollen tiny cherries that were fat and quivering. "How does it feel, Arabella?" Darth sawed the strap across Arabella's ass again, watching her breath catch in a hard pant as her nude body trembled. "It is hard to believe that a strap like this, which can dispense such a nasty sting, could be so soft." Darth's eyelids grew heavy-lidded, holding her gaze as if it too was bound to the bedpost. She shivered in fright, before him. "Do you want me to strike this against your sweet little ass?" he murmured. "It will hurt, little dove." Lairds of the Eagle by Missy Strom copyrighted 2004© Missy Strom ISBN # 978-1-4524-4008-8 All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Allure Books. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.