Shadow of Stone (The Pendragon Chronicles) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Ruth Nestvold
want to think about how life might change in the coming months.
"Yseult."
She drew in a deep breath as her lover stepped out of the shadows. "Hello, Gawain."
"I wanted to speak with you," he said — unnecessarily.
"Yes?" She hoped Kustennin hadn't noticed Gawain follow her.
"I don't think you should go to Dyn Tagell. Have you considered staying here in Lindinis with Enid?"
Yseult shook her head. "Lindinis is closer to Caer Custoeint than Dyn Tagell. Besides, I have responsibilities."
"Yes, but you can also see to those responsibilities by sending one of your men."
He was right, of course, but she did not want to argue the point with him here, now, in this place where her son could come upon them at any time. Even without reading his mind, she knew as well as he did that potential danger to her person was not the reason he had come after her.
When she didn't answer, he stepped forward and caught her arm. "Isca would be safest."
She tried to shake off his hand. "Not here, Gawain, please."
Ignoring her words, he took her shoulders in his broad hands. "Yseult, it would be reckless to put yourself into danger."
"We will take the southern route to Dyn Tagell, far from where the northern pirates attacked."
He pressed his fingers into her shoulders through the material of her shawl and drew her close.
"Gawain, no —"
He kissed her.
Her body began to respond automatically, but this was not the right time or place. She yanked herself away. "Enough. Did you not hear me say 'no'?"
"I heard you. But I am leaving tomorrow, and who knows when we will see each other again?"
She took a deep breath. "I said never when Kustennin is about."
Gawain pulled his hair back from his face, shaking his head impatiently. "Why not? He is sixteen now, Yseult. Still beardless, yes, but almost a man. Believe me, a youth that age knows the way of the world."
"Perhaps, but that does not change the fact that I do not want our affair known."
He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "If you would agree to marry me, we would have nothing to hide."
"No, Gawain. I've told you, I don't intend to marry again."
"Fine. Perhaps I will see you in the morning before we leave." With that, he turned on his heel and strode back in the direction of the dining hall.
Yseult leaned her hot forehead against one of the cool columns of the portico. When Gawain had made his first advances, he'd seemed such a safe choice, a man unattached and happy that way, a man with a reputation for never staying with a woman longer than a season, if that. It was said that his former lovers were scattered the length and breadth of Britain. Such a one wouldn't threaten her independence, wouldn't try to wrest power from her or take over her son's kingdom.
For two years, it had gone well. They had seen each other at the Whitsun games, or at the wedding celebration of one of Arthur's companions; he had stopped for a day in Dyn Tagell when on the way to Caer Leon or visited her in Isca when on business for Arthur. Then last year he had begun to grow impatient with her rules, the need to hide their relationship — and before she had left for Eriu in the fall he had asked her to marry him.
The mere idea of marriage made her throat close up and her palms sweat. She refused.
Life should have been so very different. Drystan should have stayed with her, should have been father to his son, not died at his own father's hand. Even now, over ten years since his death, Yseult could still feel him in her soul, could see him in her son's green eyes and hear him in Kustennin's laugh.
Drystan was part of her, and no man would ever take his place. Which was why she had chosen Gawain to fill the physical need that could not be denied, a man with a reputation for appreciating women — many women, and none too much.
How had she become the one woman he had problems leaving with no more than a smile and a kiss and a vague promise?
* * * *
Cador watched Gawain rise and leave shortly after
"Yseult."
She drew in a deep breath as her lover stepped out of the shadows. "Hello, Gawain."
"I wanted to speak with you," he said — unnecessarily.
"Yes?" She hoped Kustennin hadn't noticed Gawain follow her.
"I don't think you should go to Dyn Tagell. Have you considered staying here in Lindinis with Enid?"
Yseult shook her head. "Lindinis is closer to Caer Custoeint than Dyn Tagell. Besides, I have responsibilities."
"Yes, but you can also see to those responsibilities by sending one of your men."
He was right, of course, but she did not want to argue the point with him here, now, in this place where her son could come upon them at any time. Even without reading his mind, she knew as well as he did that potential danger to her person was not the reason he had come after her.
When she didn't answer, he stepped forward and caught her arm. "Isca would be safest."
She tried to shake off his hand. "Not here, Gawain, please."
Ignoring her words, he took her shoulders in his broad hands. "Yseult, it would be reckless to put yourself into danger."
"We will take the southern route to Dyn Tagell, far from where the northern pirates attacked."
He pressed his fingers into her shoulders through the material of her shawl and drew her close.
"Gawain, no —"
He kissed her.
Her body began to respond automatically, but this was not the right time or place. She yanked herself away. "Enough. Did you not hear me say 'no'?"
"I heard you. But I am leaving tomorrow, and who knows when we will see each other again?"
She took a deep breath. "I said never when Kustennin is about."
Gawain pulled his hair back from his face, shaking his head impatiently. "Why not? He is sixteen now, Yseult. Still beardless, yes, but almost a man. Believe me, a youth that age knows the way of the world."
"Perhaps, but that does not change the fact that I do not want our affair known."
He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "If you would agree to marry me, we would have nothing to hide."
"No, Gawain. I've told you, I don't intend to marry again."
"Fine. Perhaps I will see you in the morning before we leave." With that, he turned on his heel and strode back in the direction of the dining hall.
Yseult leaned her hot forehead against one of the cool columns of the portico. When Gawain had made his first advances, he'd seemed such a safe choice, a man unattached and happy that way, a man with a reputation for never staying with a woman longer than a season, if that. It was said that his former lovers were scattered the length and breadth of Britain. Such a one wouldn't threaten her independence, wouldn't try to wrest power from her or take over her son's kingdom.
For two years, it had gone well. They had seen each other at the Whitsun games, or at the wedding celebration of one of Arthur's companions; he had stopped for a day in Dyn Tagell when on the way to Caer Leon or visited her in Isca when on business for Arthur. Then last year he had begun to grow impatient with her rules, the need to hide their relationship — and before she had left for Eriu in the fall he had asked her to marry him.
The mere idea of marriage made her throat close up and her palms sweat. She refused.
Life should have been so very different. Drystan should have stayed with her, should have been father to his son, not died at his own father's hand. Even now, over ten years since his death, Yseult could still feel him in her soul, could see him in her son's green eyes and hear him in Kustennin's laugh.
Drystan was part of her, and no man would ever take his place. Which was why she had chosen Gawain to fill the physical need that could not be denied, a man with a reputation for appreciating women — many women, and none too much.
How had she become the one woman he had problems leaving with no more than a smile and a kiss and a vague promise?
* * * *
Cador watched Gawain rise and leave shortly after
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