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“There are incredible diamonds here,” he said. “Call off your powers, Brecia. No reason to take any more chances now that we’ve found the chest.” He stared down at it, then very slowly, he stretched out his fingers and lightly tapped them against the top of the c

hest.

It was as cold as an ice floe in the northern seas.

He jerked his hand back.

Brecia touched her fingers to it as well. She blinked as she jerked her hand away from the gleaming metal lid. No, not just metal—it was solid gold.

“The key is in the lock.”

“Aye,” he said, “just as it should be. Just as the ghosts told you. Once we have the key, once it opens, we will have him.”

Suddenly the key jerked out of the lock and vanished in the next heartbeat. “Oh, no,” Brecia said, whirling about. “Mawdoor built in a protection. We weren’t fast enough.”

They heard a mighty roar. They knew it was Mawdoor and that the key had gone to him, but the noise sounded like a thousand hungry lions, very angry, very hungry lions, and they were loose in the castle, headed for the jakes.

“He can’t realize it’s us,” Brecia said, grabbing the prince’s sleeve.

“He would be beyond stupid if he didn’t suspect.”

The cask began to glow, growing larger and larger until it burst out of the hidey-hole.

“By all the gods’ mortal sacrifices, it’s a wondrous spell Mawdoor has placed upon it.” He raised his wand and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Sostram Denesici avrat.”

The damned cask just kept growing larger and larger.

The prince looked shocked.

Brecia shook his sleeve. “Leave it be. Come, quickly.” In the next instant, they were pressed against the backs of two very old snoring men. They settled in and began snoring themselves. When the old men jerked up at the awful noise, they jerked up as well.

Mawdoor stood over them. He held his wand in his left hand, and he was raising it high.

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BISHOP CLOSED HIS EYES a moment, and felt again Merryn’s mouth on his mouth, her tongue licking his chest, his belly, until at last she brought him to her mouth and licked him. He’d nearly heaved off the ground. He shuddered, opened his eyes to see her looking at him. He said, “When you ran away from me, it was like a blow to my belly. I couldn’t bear it, Merryn. Then you jumped on my back and brought me down.”

She laughed. “I jumped on your back because I didn’t think you’d catch me, you fool.” She touched her fingertips to his mouth and let him nibble. “That was all very exciting, Bishop.”

He smiled at her, very pleased that he was Bishop and she was Merryn, not some long ago wizard and witch. They would wed and she would be his wife and bear his children; he would protect her and their children with his life. If they were lucky, life would stretch out an ample number of years and bring them more joy than otherwise.

It was a very nice thought. Bishop was content.

It wasn’t long until he became serious. He knew they had to act, and act in just the right way or—he didn’t know what would happen. He said, “We must find something to help us break that curse.”

She stood up and wiped her hands on her soiled gown. She looked very young, very dirty, and very well loved, given the quite satisfied look in her eyes.

He said, looking over at her, “You are carrying my babe.”

She was utterly still for a moment before she said finally, “You said that before. Why do you say it again?”

“It sounds very nice to my ears. Now I must go back to that black hole. There must be something there, something hidden from us.”

She walked beside him until they reached the hole. She said, after she’d stared down into the impenetrable darkness, “You want to go down inside the hole?”

“Aye, if I can figure out a way to do it. I don’t have a rope, and even if I did, there isn’t anything to tie it to here in the cave. Do you have an idea how I can get down there?”


Tags: Catherine Coulter Medieval Song Historical