Song of the Fairy Queen (20 page)

With a half laugh, Detrick lifted an eyebrow and said, drily, “No surprise there.”

“You should’ve had front and rear scouts at the very least, to warn against surprises.”

With a sigh, Detrick waved a hand and said, “I know, I know, but I balanced that against the number of horses I had.”

Morgan glanced at Kyri.

Her eyes twinkled. “One of my people comes, Detrick, please don’t shoot her when she arrives.”

Sitting up a little, Detrick said, “Her?”

Kyri rolled her eyes, shook her head and restrained a laugh. “Her. Gaia. You might want to warn your people?”

Glancing at Kyri, Morgan gave her a questioning look as Detrick strode quickly past them.

“Wait,” she said to him, but her eyes sparkled with laughter as they followed.

A flash of wings appeared between the trees, a glimmer of pink iridescence, as Gaia swooped across the clearing to come to a halt in front of Kyri and flutter there for a moment.

Morgan remembered the merry black-haired Fairy from that morning in the Great Central Forest, she’d been one of those waiting there.

Grinning, Gaia let her wings fold and dropped to the earth with a bounce.

Impudently, she saluted first Kyri then Morgan, still grinning saucily, her mop of dark curls tossing.

“My Kyri,” Gaia said merrily. Her black eyes gleamed.

Knowing their mission, Kyri had come prepared.

Her own eyes laughing, Kyri looked at Morgan and Detrick and simply said, “This is Gaia.”

Of a size with Kyri, perhaps a fraction smaller, Gaia was clearly all mischievous Fairy.

Detrick looked as if he’d been poleaxed.

“I think they’ll get on well,” Kyri said in a soft aside to Morgan. “Don’t you?”

Choking back a chuckle, Morgan nodded before he shook his head at her. “I hope he’ll be able to concentrate.”

Kyri smiled serenely.

Some of Detrick’s people were already hard at work in the clearing, setting up a long trench as a fire pit.

“You
are
staying?” Detrick asked them, his eyes going to Gaia, who giggled. “We’re feasting, thanks to Haerold…”

Merry Gaia.

Kyri shook her head, smiling. Gaia would surprise them, though – for all her light nature, she was quick of mind and good with a bow. And far more sensible than Detrick would credit for quite some time.

Gaia glanced at her, and winked.

Eyes twinkling, Kyri returned the gesture. They understood each other well.

Amused, Morgan watched the exchange.

“What are you up to?” he asked, softly, an aside to Kyri.

She slanted a look at him. Laughter brightened her aquamarine eyes.

“Are you staying?” Detrick asked, oblivious to their conversation.

Taking a breath, Kyri hesitated. There were things she should be doing, places she should be.

Morgan understood that hesitation, he knew it well, because he fought the same compulsion between duty, honor and desire himself.

“Stay,” Morgan said, impulsive for once, his eyes on Kyri.

He’d had little time in the months since Caernarvon had fallen to find time to relax and take his ease. Even less in such convivial circumstances. Not since that evening they’d spent mapmaking. Something in Kyri’s simple presence lightened him, gave him a measure of peace, and he enjoyed her company. He’d found himself thinking of her of a night now and again in the moments before sleep.

With Jacob gone he had no one he could truly talk to…except Kyri. She understood what he faced. Caleb was a good man to have at his back, but he was a simple country man and Morgan couldn’t talk to him as he could Jacob or Kyri.

He needed to stay anyway, if he was to get to know Detrick, if he was to know the man’s mind, his skills, and to make plans and set schedules for contact.

Kyri, however, didn’t. She had her own responsibilities, her own duties.

Morgan’s request caught Kyri off guard, surprised her. It pleased her, too.

She looked into his pale blue eyes, into his steady gaze and something in her warmed.

It had been a time too, since she’d had a moment to catch her breath.

With a smile, she nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Excellent,” Detrick said, pleased, and clapped his hands.

People rushed about, making preparations.

In a short time a bonfire had been built in the clearing and tables filled with the most perishable of their ‘borrowed’ bounty. Meat was put on long iron skewers and set to roast. Delicious aromas filled the air.

By the time the sun set – bathing the clearing with soft amber light – everyone had filled plates. Cups of wine were set before them. There were stories, jokes and laughter. One of Detrick’s people pulled out a gitar, another a pipe, yet another a drum and they began to play. Voices rose around them in song, light and merry. People sat where they could, including Morgan’s people, who mingled with those of Detrick’s band.

Morgan found an unclaimed piece of grass at the raised base of a tree that would give him a good view of the festivities. He settled down with his trencher and a mug of ale to stretch out and relax.

Slender fingers snatched a piece of chicken from his plate.

“Why,” he asked Kyri in amusement, “are you always stealing my food?”

Kyri laughed at him, her eyes sparkling before taking a bite and then offering it back, held in her slender fingers.

“Because it’s far easier than fetching my own. It’s not as if you don’t have enough to spare. How many people are you feeding there, Morgan?” she asked, eyeing his trencher speculatively.

So close, it was hard to ignore the fact that she was beautiful, those magnificent eyes long-lashed and lovely, her nose straight and her cheekbones high. Her mouth was perfect, not too full, firm but mobile and always a step away from smiling. Her eyes sparkled faintly with mischief.

As they did now.

His own eyes level with hers, he took the bite of chicken from her fingers, the gesture somehow intimate.

Their shoulders barely touched and yet something seemed to hum between them…

Kyri gazed into Morgan’s eyes as they warmed.

A curl of heat moved through her, deep in her belly.

“Morgan,” Detrick said as he settled down beside them with Gaia at his heels, “you said something about more horses?”

He looked from one to the other as Morgan fought not to swear at the intrusion and Kyri’s eyes twinkled wryly.

“Did I interrupt something?” Detrick asked, his eyes going from Morgan to Kyri.

Morgan took a breath, his gaze on Kyri.

Kyri smothered a grin and met his look, amused.

“No,” Morgan said, to his regret. “And yes, we can get you more horses.”

Between them – Detrick, himself, Kyri and Gaia – they arranged for the horses to be delivered before their talk moved to other things, to Oryan’s plans and speculations about Haerold’s next move.

Morgan was never not aware of Kyri so tantalizingly close beside him.

From time to time the breeze would lift her hair so that it brushed lightly across the back of his hand and with it would come her scent, so inviting, so fresh that his body tightened in response.

Despite the seriousness of the conversation and the sweet torment of Kyri’s presence, he found that in an odd way it relaxed him. Both Detrick and Kyri understood the problems and pressures he and Oryan faced. Even, to his surprise, giggly Gaia.

There was more to that gay and merry Fairy than met the eye.

He glanced at Kyri, who simply returned his glance serenely in return, but her eyes twinkled and a small smile curved her lips.

The music turned lighter, quicker, the gitar player strummed as someone beat a steady rhythm on a drum. Hands clapped in time.

Men and women filled the clearing around the fire. Their feet moved in intricate patterns as they turned and bowed, spun and circled, challenge and counter challenge.

Gaia leaped gleefully into the fray, her hands fisted on her hips.

She tossed her head as she looked a challenge at Kyri, her Queen, laughing.

The clapping became earnest, insistent.

All eyes were on Kyri to see what she would do.

Kyri gave Morgan a look, her eyes alight and then she stood in answer to the challenge, shook her long curly hair back and stepped down to the circle, her feet already moving in perfect rhythm to the drums.

Firelight turned Kyri’s hair to molten gold as it streamed over her shoulders and down her back.

Head high, shoulders back, proud, laughing, she made her way through the spectators as hoots and shouts rang out.

She was beautiful.

The dancers set their rhythm and Gaia matched it.

Kyri leaped lightly into the circle, her feet already beating out the complicated pattern.

Clapping and laughing, the other dancers watched in delight as the two Fairy circled each other, feet moving in perfect rhythm, their hair tossing and flying as they spun and circled. They reminded Morgan of nothing so much as two pure-bred horses, one light, one dark, both proud and beautiful. They paced first this way and then that, graceful, manes flying in challenge.

Then Gaia changed the step, to circle the other way.

Without missing a beat, Kyri matched her, her eyes shining, even as she added her own step to a shout of approval from the crowd.

One of the other women joined them, then one of the men and another of the women, laughing. Their feet moved in time, hair flying, skirts swirling.

More of the men joined them, including Detrick.

Kyri cast a glance up at Morgan to where he’d stretched out on the grass to watch. His head was propped on his hand, his strong solid body was at ease, his brilliant blue eyes only slightly less focused in his handsome square face, as relaxed as it was possible for Morgan to be.

Almost.

Catching that laughing glance, it would have been impossible for Morgan not to have watched her in return.

The last light of the sun had left the sky. Only the golden glow remained, leaving Kyri bathed in fading sunlight, fire and torchlight. The flickering light was soft, casting shadows, making her hair seem to gleam against the gathering darkness.

His eyes met hers and she smiled brilliantly.

For a moment his heart caught. Then one of the other women changed the steps and Kyri spun away.

The rebels roared, everyone laughing as ewers of watered and un-watered wine, courtesy of Haerold, made the rounds.

With a nod, Kyri met the other woman’s challenge and added a step of her own.

Feet flew, the drum beat more quickly, as those in the center turned and spun while the dancers around them circled and swirled. The beat came ever faster and even the outer ring of couples gave way to the group in the center, to their flying feet and then Kyri missed a step.