She smiled at that, and showed him a deep dimple on her left cheek. It was the first glowing smile she’d given him. “You fear the king more than ancient curses?”
“Oh, aye, I do. Do you believe the curse was fashioned especially for you, that some Druids hundreds of years ago said, ‘This is for Merryn de Gay and none other’?”
“Do you believe my hair is as red as fire? A wicked red?”
He looked at her wild red hair, blowing fiercely around her head in the dry wind. He nodded. “Aye, at least as red as fire, and beyond wicked.”
He reached up, touched his fingertips to her hair. Slowly, never looking away from her, he wrapped some strands around his finger, over and over, until he was tugging her toward him.
She shook her head and he released her hair. She said, “And are my eyes as green as desire?”
“No, your eyes are as green as lust.”
“Oh.” She blinked at that. If he wasn’t mistaken, and he knew he wasn’t because he was, after all, a man, she blushed.
He said, “What do you know about this key? ‘The enemy will fail who uses the key’?”
“An odd line, but I know nothing at all about any key. No one does, not even my grandfather.”
“So the curse is for any and all females with red hair and green eyes who just happen to live at Penwyth?”
She said nothing.
“All right, tell me this. Is there a mare in season within the walls?”
“Why, yes, my mare, Lockley. There isn’t a stallion about to cover her.”
“My Fearless will cover her, willingly. He whinnied when he heard her; he caught her scent.”
“I will think about this. I want to know his bloodlines, Sir Bishop. I want to inspect him, see that he is worthy of Lockley.”
“I will swear upon Saint Cuthbert’s scabbed knees that Fearless’s withers are the finest in the land.”
“You jest. I don’t know anyone who jests like you do.”
“Do you consider it one of my many excellent parts?”
“I have known you for a very short time, only the length of a well-attended banquet. This is all very odd.”
“You may inspect Fearless. If it will gain him the mare, then he will doubtless allow it. You must explain his reward to him simply, no difficult words. As a wizard, I have merely to think my words to him and he understands.”
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“You claim you can predict rain. Just maybe your damned destrier can understand what a person says as well. I don’t believe a man can be a wizard. Wizards are old and bearded, and they have strange mad lights in their eyes.”
“Even a wizard must begin young.”
“I still don’t believe it. You are a man, just a man, albeit a clever one.”
“So you believe me clever?”
“No. I didn’t mean to say that.”
“You will see. Now, the curse. The Celtic Druids had no written language.”
“The curse has come down from father to son or daughter from each succeeding generation. It was Lord Vellan’s grandfather who finally had a scribe record it. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
She was lying and he knew it. He felt frustration boil in his belly. What was going on here? He said, “It is said that the Druids put their prisoners in wooden cages so they could burn them at night for warmth and sacrifice. Can you begin to imagine the smell of that?”