Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [175]
Skylan caught hold of Aylaen, and when she struggled, he clasped her tighter, refusing to let her go. He kissed her cheek and sought her lips.
“You will be my wife—”
“Skylan! Don’t!” Aylaen shoved against him. “Let go of me!”
Skylan’s desire flared inside him, burning his blood. He knew Aylaen wanted him. This show of reluctance was merely maidenly reserve. He pressed her against a tree with his body, while his hands, expert at such work, swiftly unpinned the brooches that held up her dress.
“Skylan, don’t do this,” she pleaded.
“You want this, Aylaen. You know you do. We’re as good as married—” His hands slid down the front of her smock. He touched her breasts and groaned and thrust himself against her.
“Skylan!” someone shouted. “Skylan, where are you? I have a message for you!”
“It’s only Garn,” Skylan said huskily. He was pulling up her skirts. His need for her was painful, blinding him, like the Madness of Torval. “Keep quiet. He’ll go away.”
“Here!” Aylaen yelled. “Garn, over here!”
“Over where?” Garn called. He was close by.
Angrily, Skylan pushed back away from Aylaen. She hastily pinned the brooches in place and smoothed down her dress. Garn emerged from the shadows of the trees.
“Here you both are,” he said, smiling and pretending not to notice Aylaen’s flushed face and disheveled clothes and Skylan’s scowl.
“What do you want?” Skylan demanded surlily.
“Owl Mother sent me to find you,” said Garn. “She wants to talk to you. Something about a bargain you made with her.”
“Since you are her errand boy, run back there and tell the crone I don’t have time to deal with the whims of an old woman,” Skylan told him. “Aylaen and I have things to talk about.”
He put his arm possessively around Aylaen’s waist and dragged her close.
“You better do as she wants, Skylan,” Aylaen said, her voice shaking. “You shouldn’t make Owl Mother angry.”
“I’ll stay with Aylaen,” Garn offered.
Skylan hesitated, seething. He didn’t want to leave, but at the same time, he didn’t want to offend Owl Mother.
“Very well, I’ll go. Talk some sense into Aylaen while you’re at it, brother,” Skylan told Garn. “She claims she doesn’t want to be Kai Priestess, and that’s the only way we can be married. Make her see reason.”
He stomped off down the path, angrily shoving aside tree limbs. They could hear him smashing through the undergrowth.
“Oh, Garn!” Aylaen cried, sagging against him, hiding her face in her hands. “I was so frightened!”
He put his arm around her. “Hush, I know. I came to look for you. Treia told me you’d gone to the stream.”
Aylaen looked up at him, blinking back tears. “Did you make up that story about Owl Mother? Oh, Garn, Skylan will find out you lied to him, and then he’ll be furious with you!”
“He’ll cool off by then. He’ll realize he was wrong. Skylan loves you, Aylaen,” Garn added, soothing her. “He would never do anything to hurt you.”
“The old Skylan wouldn’t,” said Aylaen. “I don’t know this new Skylan. You didn’t see his face. You have to tell him the truth about us, Garn!”
“I know,” Garn replied. “I will speak to him when we are on the voyage—”
Aylaen stared at him. “The voyage! But you’re not going to war! You said you would ask him to leave you in charge when he left. Norgaard’s health is failing. Someone needs to stay behind to guard the village.”
“I said I would consider asking Skylan, Aylaen,” Garn said gently. “I didn’t say I would.”
Aylaen’s flush deepened. Her fists clenched, and she struck him on the chest. “You can’t go! I won’t let you! How could you do this to me?”
“Aylaen—”
“You will be killed!” She yelled at him in fury, refusing to listen to him. “And if you are, I will die! For I could not bear to live!”
She kissed him passionately. He kissed her, then pushed her away. “Skylan might see us—”
“I hope he does!” Aylaen cried fiercely. “I want him to see us! I want the world to see us!”
She began to sob uncontrollably. Garn took