Forbidden Read online

  “Do you fancy Amber for yourself?” Duncan asked after a moment.

  “Nay.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Why?”

  “Amber is…extraordinary. No man could look at her without wanting her.”

  “I can,” Erik said bluntly. “I no more desire Amber carnally than I would a sister.”

  Duncan gave the other man a startled look.

  “We were raised together,” Erik explained.

  “Then why do you object to my touching her? Do you have a marriage in mind for her? Does she feel a calling to the nunnery?”

  Erik shook his head.

  “Let me be certain I understand,” Duncan said carefully. “You have no desire for Amber yourself.”

  “None.”

  “You have no marriage planned for her.”

  “None,” Erik said.

  “Yet you forbid me to touch her.”

  “Yes.”

  “It is because I have no memory of who—or what—I was before I woke up in Amber’s cottage?” Duncan asked.

  “It is because Amber is what she is. Forbidden.”

  With that, Erik spurred his horse forward, joining his knights. He didn’t speak to Duncan again until they had finally reached and passed through the hamlets and stubble fields that radiated outward from Sea Home.

  When the group of riders was within the first ring of palisades that defended Sea Home, Erik turned his horse and waved for Amber and Duncan to join him on a hillock overlooking the lower earthworks. From that vantage point, it was obvious that the defenses of Sea Home Manor were being reshaped into those of a true keep. Many men labored in the wet day, dragging stones on sledges, hauling logs, ramming earth between stone walls.

  A second log-and-earth palisade was being raised just beyond the base of a rocky knoll that over-looked the fen and the salty sweep of the firth. On top of the knoll, the manor itself was nearly invisible behind the newly erected stone walls of what would become the keep itself. Gatehouse and turrets, parapets and inner bailey, moat and drawbridge could all be seen either in outline or in finished form.

  Beyond the defensive rings, little was visible but dense mist, darkly gleaming saltwater channels, and rain-beaten grass. Though hidden by cloud, the vast presence of the ocean could be tasted in the air. The bay that Sea Home defended was wide and shallow, ringed with mud flats at low tide and salt marsh at high tide. Fresh water welled up throughout the marsh and small streams trickled in from the green and rumpled countryside.

  “How do you like it?” Erik asked Amber as she and Duncan came alongside.

  “The work has gone so fast,” Amber said. “I can barely believe it. Last time I was at Sea Home, there was little more than a palisade to protect the manor house.”

  The import of the frenzied building hadn’t escaped Duncan. Sea Home was being fortified as quickly as men could drag log, stone, and baskets of earth into place.

  “After the defenses are finished, I’m going to rebuild the house entirely of cut stone,” Erik said. “Then I will replace the outer palisades with stone walls and put yet another log-and-earth palisade beyond the inner and outer baileys.”

  “It will be quite grand,” Amber said.

  “Sea Home deserves no less. When I marry, this will be my primary residence.”

  “Has Lord Robert chosen a suitable wife for you?” Amber asked.

  Duncan’s eyes narrowed as he searched for any hint of jealousy in Amber’s voice. Erik might not be drawn to Amber as a man is to a desirable woman, but Duncan found it hard to believe that Amber wasn’t attracted to the handsome lord.

  Yet no matter how carefully Duncan searched, there was nothing in her voice and expression but simple affection.

  “No,” Erik said. “It’s difficult to find a girl who fulfills the needs of both Scots and English kings.”

  The buried anger in Erik’s voice was noted by Duncan. It was an anger that appeared whenever the proud young thane was brought up against the reality of the power of Henry, King of England.

  “What will become of Stone Ring Keep after you marry?” Amber asked. “I can’t imagine it without you.”

  “You will be safe enough with Cassandra and my seneschal in residence,” Erik said.

  “Ah, then you’ve finally chosen a seneschal?”

  “No. I’ve found no one I can trust with a plum as rich as Stone Ring Keep. Until I do, or until I marry…” Erik shrugged.

  “I’ll miss you.”

  Amber’s words were so soft that Erik almost didn’t hear them.

  Duncan did hear. The new evidence of affection between Erik and Amber irritated Duncan.

  “I’ll still live part of each year at Stone Ring and Winterlance,” Erik said, “married or no.”

  Amber simply smiled, shook her head, and said, “You have done a grand job preparing Sea Home.”

  “Thank you. Talking to knights who came back from the Holy Land gave me many ideas.”

  “Not to mention the Normans,” Duncan said. “They are masters of motte and bailey construction.”

  “Aye. I don’t intend to lose my land to the Norman usurpers.”

  “Are you expecting trouble soon?”

  “Why do you ask?” Erik said sharply.

  “Your laborers have the look of a long, hard summer behind them.”

  Erik watched Duncan for the space of several breaths. There was nothing about Duncan’s posture or eyes that suggested a man asking questions for a hidden purpose.

  Far from it. Duncan was one of the most open men Erik had ever encountered. He would have staked a great deal on Duncan’s basic honesty.

  In fact, Erik already had.

  Leaving Duncan with Amber had been a calculated risk, even with Egbert’s constant presence. But in all the days of enforced closeness, Amber had learned nothing that suggested Duncan was a Norman wolf disguised as a nameless Saxon sheep.

  “Of all my father’s holdings, Sea Home is the most vulnerable to Norman interference,” Erik said bluntly. “My cousins also covet it.”

  “Because it guards the sea approach to the Disputed Lands?” Duncan asked.

  “Does it?” Erik asked gently. “Your eyes see very far in this stew of rain and cloud.”

  Amber gave Erik a wary look. Whenever he took that special, gentle tone of voice, wise men looked for a place to hide.

  “There would be no other reason to have a keep here at the edge of unproductive salt fens,” Duncan said. “There is no narrowing of the sea, no cliffs, no river passage, no natural ramparts, nothing to use against an enemy but what you build yourself.”

  “Apparently strategy was part of your learning in the time that you don’t remember,” Erik said.

  “All leaders should know how to choose the time and the place of their battles.”

  “Were you such a man?” Erik asked softly. “Did you lead others rather than follow?”

  Afraid not to speak, afraid to speak, Amber held her breath and waited for Duncan’s answer.

  “I think…yes,” Duncan said.

  “You don’t sound certain,” Erik retorted.

  “It’s difficult to be certain without memory,” Duncan said crisply.

  “If you remember, tell me. I have use for men who can lead others.”

  “Defending Stone Ring Keep?”

  “Aye,” Erik said. “The Norsemen covet it as much as they covet Winterlance.”

  “And Sea Home is coveted by Normans.”

  “So is Stone Ring Keep.”

  A chill came over Amber. The challenge in Erik’s voice was subtle, but unmistakable. Memories of her conversation with Erik on the night that Duncan had been found echoed through her.

  Then the rumor is true? A Norman granted his Saxon enemy the right to rule Stone Ring Keep?

  Aye. But Duncan is no longer Dominic’s enemy. The Scots Hammer swore fealty to Dominic at the point of a sword.

  “Your father is lucky to have a strong son,” Dunc
an said matter-of-factly. “It’s the nature of men to fight for honor, God, and land.”

  “Especially land like Sea Home,” Erik agreed. “It’s the richest of my father’s holdings. The pastures fatten many cattle and sheep. The sea yields fresh fish all year. The croplands are fertile. Waterfowl abound in the fens and deer are thick in the forests.”

  Duncan heard the clear love of land in Erik’s voice and knew a swift stroke of jealousy.

  “It would be a fine thing to have land,” Duncan said softly.

  “Oh, no,” groaned Erik in mock despair. “Not another lout in armor pining to take Sea Home from me!”

  “Sea Home? Nay,” Duncan said, smiling. “The land around Stone Ring Keep is more to my liking. Higher, rockier, wilder.”

  Amber closed her eyes and prayed that Erik would see in Duncan only what she was seeing—a man speaking the truth among people he considered his friends.

  “I prefer the salt wind and the cry of sea eagles,” Erik said.

  “You have them, and Stone Ring Keep besides,” Duncan said.

  “So long as I hold them, yes. In the Disputed Lands, a man’s future is only as long as his sword arm.”

  Duncan laughed. “The gleam in your eye says you don’t regret being tested.”

  “You have the same gleam in yours,” Erik retorted.

  Amber opened her eyes and let out her breath in relief. Erik was teasing Duncan as he would a friend.

  “Aye,” Duncan said. “I love a good fight.”

  “Nay,” Amber interrupted firmly. “I’ll not have it.”

  “Have what?” Erik asked with transparent innocence.

  “You are planning to have Duncan join your battle games.”

  “Are you willing?” Erik asked Duncan.

  “Give me a sword and I’ll show you.”

  Fear lanced through Amber. Without thinking, she leaned forward and wrapped her fingers around Duncan’s wrist. The warmth and sheer maleness of him swept through her. She ignored her response, for the fear that drove her was equally strong.

  “No,” Amber said urgently. “You nearly died in that storm. It’s much too soon for you to fight unless there is real need.”

  Duncan looked down into her anxious golden eyes and felt something taut within him loosen. She had avoided his touch for days, yet she cared for him deeply. Her emotion was so clear to him that he barely refrained from kissing away the lines of fear around her full mouth.

  “Don’t worry, precious Amber,” Duncan whispered against her cheek. “I won’t be thrashed by ill-trained knights.”

  Duncan’s humor, passion, and supreme self-confidence flowed through the touch to Amber. He wasn’t the least afraid of testing himself against the best Erik had to offer.

  In fact, Duncan was anticipating it with the pleasure of a hungry wolf looking over a sheepfold.

  Reluctantly Amber loosened her hold on Duncan’s wrist. Though she no longer held him, her fingertips lingered on his wrist with a hunger that was reflected in the shadowed depths of her eyes.

  Duncan saw the yearning in her gaze and felt fire flare through his loins. His fingers curled over hers, holding them, needing the contact with a force he couldn’t question.

  Erik watched with a combination of wonder and unease.

  “You told me,” Erik said to Amber, “but I didn’t truly believe. Touching him doesn’t hurt you. It…pleases you.”

  “Yes. Greatly.”

  Erik looked from Amber’s face, pleasure and unhappiness combined, to Duncan. There, defiance and pleasure were mingled, making him appear warrior and lover both.

  “I do hope,” Erik said distinctly to Amber, “that Cassandra finishes casting the rune stones before I’m forced to decide between what pleases you and the safety of the Disputed Lands.”

  Fear rippled through Amber. She closed her eyes and said nothing.

  Nor did she pull her fingers away from Duncan’s clasp.

  A shout from one of Erik’s knights came through the mist. As one, Erik and Duncan turned. Four knights were riding out from the stables toward the place where Erik waited. Three of the knights were familiar to Erik. The fourth wasn’t.

  Duncan straightened and leaned forward as though to see better through the seething mists. Three of the knights were unknown to him.

  The fourth made shadows stir and condense into something that was neither memory nor forgetfulness.

  6

  CLOUDS separated, allowing pale gold sunlight to stream over the rain-drenched land. The green of grass and trees became incandescent. Pale stone gleamed like pearl. Bark was an ebony richness. Water drops gathered on every surface, making the land shimmer as though with secret laughter.

  Amber shared none of the land’s hidden amusement. She had felt Duncan’s memories twitch and shiver, a dragon awakening deep within his shadows.

  “Who is the fourth man?” she asked Erik.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “Find out.”

  The sharp demand in Amber’s voice surprised Erik. What surprised Duncan was the feel of her nails digging into his wrist.

  “Is something amiss?” Erik asked.

  Belatedly Amber realized what she had done. If the fourth man was indeed from Duncan’s past—and if Duncan was indeed the enemy she feared—she had put him in danger with her incautious demand.

  “No,” Amber said, making certain that her voice was calm. “I’m simply wary of new warriors in the Disputed Lands.”

  “So is Alfred,” Erik said dryly.

  Amber’s smile was a brief shadow of her usual one, but only Duncan noticed.

  Only he knew of her nails biting into his flesh.

  “Who is Alfred?” Duncan asked.

  “One of my best knights. He is the one on the white stallion, next to the stranger.”

  “Alfred,” Duncan said, memorizing the man.

  “Alfred the Sly,” Amber corrected.

  “You’ve never forgiven him for calling you a sorceress,” Erik said wryly.

  “He had the Church believing him.”

  Erik shrugged. “The priest was a fat old fool.”

  “That ‘fat old fool’ laid hands on me.”

  Erik turned toward Amber so quickly that his horse started in alarm.

  “What are you saying?” he demanded.

  “The priest sought an alliance with the devil through carnal knowledge of me,” Amber said. “When I refused him, he tried to take by force what I wouldn’t give.”

  “God’s teeth,” Duncan hissed.

  Erik was too shocked to speak. Abruptly his features flattened beneath his beard, pulling his mouth into a thin line.

  “I will hang that cursed priest where I find him,” Erik vowed softly.

  Amber’s smile was chilling. “You won’t find him this side of Judgement Day.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Several years past, the priest went to the Stone Ring with darkness in his mind. Lightning came. When it left, it took the priest to the very hell that so fascinated him. Or so Cassandra tells me…”

  “Ah. Cassandra. A very wise woman indeed,” Erik said, smiling like a wolf.

  “The priest,” Duncan said harshly to Amber. “He didn’t harm you?”

  “I used the dagger Erik gave me.”

  Duncan remembered the silver dagger she had used to cut his own bonds.

  “I wasn’t wrong to be wary of you, was I?” he asked dryly.

  Amber smiled at Duncan, a smile as warm as her other one had been cold.

  “I would never harm you, Duncan. It would be like harming myself.”

  “But I,” Erik cut in, “have no such problem. I will most certainly ‘harm’ any man who forces himself on Amber.”

  Duncan looked past Amber to the cold wolf’s eyes of the young lord.

  “You will note, Sir Erik, who is holding and who is being held,” Duncan said flatly.

  Amber looked at her own hand, her fingers clenched on Duncan’s wrist, her
nails biting into his hard flesh.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, snatching her hand back.

  “Precious Amber,” Duncan murmured.

  He held out his hand, smiling. Without hesitation, she put her fingers in his.

  “You could stick silver daggers into me,” Duncan said, “and I would ask only for more of your sweet touch.”

  Amber laughed and colored, ignoring Erik’s look of concern and the disbelief on the faces of three of the four knights whose horses were trotting closer.

  “Do you understand, now?” Duncan asked Erik.

  There was a challenge in Duncan’s voice that Erik could not mistake.

  “You have no claims of family or clan or duty on Amber, nor any intent other than to see that she is protected,” Duncan continued. “When my memory returns, I will claim the right to woo Amber for my wife.”

  “What if your memory doesn’t return?” Erik asked.

  “It must.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Until I know what obligations I carry from my past, I can’t make new vows. And I find that I must.”

  “Why?”

  “Amber,” Duncan said simply. “I must have her. Yet I should not offer marriage until I know myself.”

  “Amber?” Erik asked, turning toward her.

  “I have always been Duncan’s. I always will be.”

  Erik closed his eyes for an instant. When they opened, they were clear and cold.

  “What of Cassandra’s warning?” he asked gently.

  “There are three conditions. Only one has been met. Only one will be met.”

  “You sound very certain.”

  “I am.”

  Amber smiled with a bittersweet beauty that was haunting. She knew that Duncan wouldn’t take her unless he remembered his past.

  And if he did remember, she was afraid he wouldn’t have her at all.

  Enemy and soul mate.

  “I wonder if prophecies can be so neatly divided and thereby neutralized,” Erik muttered. “Or if it even matters.”

  “You speak in circles,” Amber said.

  “Both of you,” said Duncan.

  The other two ignored him.

  “Death always flows,” Erik said. “Rich life is always a possibility. Remember that, Amber, when you are offered a choice between a rock and a hard place.”