The Conquest Read online

  "Mint, I think. I would not recommend it. It does not go with ale, but I daresay it tastes better than that mess you would have given me."

  Zared held the bag. "If you did not drink the potion, then what has inspired this… this newfound lust of yours?"

  At that Tearle did not know whether to laugh or yell at her. He did neither. He sat down on the edge of the bed and talked very slowly. "I do not know how you came to the conclusion that I have not been eaten alive with desire for you from the moment I first saw you. Why else would I have made myself your brother's lackey? Do you think that I enjoy slogging in mud up to my knees to carry lances to him? Did I remain with him because I enjoyed his company? Or yours? At the tournament, did you so much as say a kind word to me?"

  She sat up on the bed, oblivious to the way Tearle was looking at her. "But I thought you disliked me. I thought you wanted to… to…"

  "Get my hands on the Peregrine wealth?" He leaned toward her, his nose almost touching hers. "I have always had one objective: to get my hands on the body of the Peregrine daughter."

  Zared blinked at him. "Really? You do not think I look like a boy?"

  He looked down at her bare body, then back up at her face. "I am the only man who has known from the beginning that you were not a boy."

  Zared looked back down at the pouch. "But if you did not drink the potion, then why did you react so?" Her head came up. "And why have you not come to me on your own before now?"

  He had to control himself to keep from yelling. "Do you not realize that I have been courting you?"

  "Courting me?"

  "Aye, courting you. I realize, after having spent some time with your brother, that the Peregrine idea of courting consists of turning a woman over one's knee, but in other households going with a girl to a fair is a much more acceptable method of courtship."

  "But what of the annulment? What of the message to the king?"

  He gave a bit of a smile. "What message? What annulment?"

  "The one we—" She smiled back at him. "You did not send the message? I called you some awful names."

  "I felt that they were temporary. I hoped that if I could get you away from your brother, you might see that I was not the monster you had been told of." He picked up her hand and kissed it. "I have wanted you since I saw you struggling against my brother's men. And I have cared for you since you came back to see if I were dead, even though I was a Howard and you had been taught to hate me."

  She watched him as he began to kiss her fingertips. "I was afraid that if you bled to death, it would cause more harm to my family. I cared nothing for you."

  He looked back at her with hot eyes. "Perhaps I can change that. Perhaps I can make you care." He put her small hand on his side and then moved toward her. Zared lay back on the pillows. "I do not believe that you can. No Howard could make a Peregrine squeal in delight."

  He stopped kissing her ankle and looked up at her. "What do you know of squeals of delight?"

  "I have heard many of them from my brothers' women, and you cannot wring such cries from me." There was challenge and daring in her eyes and a bit of a smile about her lips.

  "Oh?" he said, accepting the challenge. "Let us see about that."

  He began to kiss her then, and since he was not burdened by having to talk he could give himself over to his lust for her body. He kissed her and fondled her until he thought he might go mad. When he entered her he expected her to cry out in pain, but she did not.

  "I liked that," she said later as Tearle was dozing in her arms. "Shall we do it again? Can it last longer this time?"

  Tearle lifted one eyebrow and looked at her. "Perhaps. In a moment."

  "Ah," Zared said. "I understand."

  Had another woman said such a thing Tearle would have thought she did understand, but given Zared's experience in life, he doubted if she understood anything. "What do you understand?"

  "That you are a weak and puny Howard, while I have the blood of falcons running through my veins. Do you think our children will be weak like you?"

  At that he caught her and pulled her down beside him. "I will see who will cry 'enough' before this night is through."

  Chapter Thirteen

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  Zared sat down gingerly on the chair that was pulled up. to the table. Her husband looked at her smugly and with such a superior look that she grimaced. But she was happy, very, very happy.

  Tearle smiled at her. "What say you we do today?"

  "Teach me to read," she said before she thought, and he smiled more broadly.

  What followed for Zared were two weeks of heaven on earth. She seemed to crave affection. It seemed that she wanted to make up for all the years she had been forced to act and look like a boy, and all she wanted to do were the most feminine things. Tearle, so unlike the men she had known all her life, was glad to show her all the most feminine arts.

  He helped her choose gowns that he thought would look good on her. Each night he brushed her hair, both of them hoping that the brushing would make it grow faster.

  They played games with each other and with the other people of his household. They rode and hunted and sometimes did nothing. He started teaching her to read, and he showed her some of the notes on a lute. Together they wrote a few poems, and Tearle told her she had a talent for poetry.

  And through all of it they made love. Everything seemed to have some sexual connotation to them. The sight of a baby made them think of creating their own. Music made them retire to their chamber. Reading was lusty to them, especially since some of the poems that Zared created were quite bawdy.

  Zared showed Tearle how to use a knife, and her demonstration nearly drove Tearle wild with desire. It wasn't that she was teaching him anything that he didn't know, but that she wore no clothes while demonstrating.

  They played hide and seek for one whole day when it rained, and whoever found the other made love to the other on the spot, wherever they were.

  Tearle, who had in the past made love to women mostly in secret, was fascinated with the freedom he had. He could have his wife any time he wanted her.

  He was also fascinated by Zared. She had not been told what "ladies" should and should not do, so she was willing to try anything. Also, she was so athletic that sometimes she made him feel old and decrepit. She scampered up trees with the agility of a lizard. He followed her and then made love to her on a forked tree branch.

  She had none of the fears that he had always assumed ladies were born with. She was not afraid of high places or of weapons or of charging boars or of his men.

  One night as they lay together, sweaty and satiated, he asked her about her exuberance.

  "Do you not see that I am free?" she said. "I have never been free before. You have had a life of such ease that you cannot understand what being a prisoner is like. You are so soft."

  "Perhaps I am now, but I am not always soft," he said, some hurt in his voice.

  "No, you goose, I do not mean that. I mean that you are soft inside. You are gentle and kind, and you are not driven by hatred."

  "You make me sound as though I am less than a man. You can see the scars on my body. I can fight."

  "You can fight in mock battles, true, but can you kill? Could you look a man in the eye and kill him?"

  He held her hand in his and looked at it. "I would kill whoever touched you."

  "Yes, you probably would." She sighed, for she didn't have any idea how to explain what she meant. He didn't understand hatred. He had no idea what it was like to feed off hatred—to have hatred consume the souls of those around you.

  "Could you look into a man's eyes and kill him?" he asked.

  "If he were a Howard," she said before she thought, then she turned to look at him, a feeling of horror growing inside her.

  "I am a Howard," he said softly. "Could you look into my eyes and kill me?"

  She didn't know what to say to him. She knew that she could not kill him. Or could she? If he were to threaten on