THIRTY-EIGHT.

Tempest picked another sweet-smelling branch of apple blossoms and laid it gently in her basket. As she carried them back to the cottage, she thought about the coming day, or rather what was left of it.

Adrian had risen early and gone off on some mysterious errand. He had been gone most of the day, and she missed him. Why pick this day of all days to disappear? There was so much left to do before they were wed. Just like a man, she thought. He may be a dragon-or so he claims. I have never seen him change-but his actions are all too human.

Nay, what he told me was true. She recalled bits of conversation, flashes of golden dragon scales, when she had lain so ill from Sardon's poisoned wine. Had Lysira been there to help? She recalled a name, mandragora, dragon's bane. The poison had been meant for Adrian.

"Tempest," Lysira called from the cottage doorway. "Come here, I have something for you."

She followed Lysira into the cottage and put her basket of apple blossoms on the long trestle table. Lysira stood by the bed, holding something in her hands.

"This," she said as Tempest walked toward her, "is your wedding dress. I began making it when you were born."

"You made it for me? But how could you have known?

Adrian and I met only a few months ago. I mean... What if I had died, or what if Adrian did not love me? What if I had been ugly or deformed, or...What if we had never met?"

Lysira laid her finger gently over Tempest's lips. "You question too much, child," she chided. "There are things I have seen of the future. I knew you would be beautiful, and I knew

my son would love you. Miriam and I pledged the betrothal at your birth. Remember, I read the cards, and they never lie to me.

"Come now, 'tis time to dress for your wedding. I must ready your circlet while you dress."

"Where is Marisa?" Tempest started toward the door. "She needs to prepare herself for her wedding, too."

"Tempest." Lysira's voice stopped her. "Marisa will be back soon. She is with Tristan. Now, we have much to do to get you both ready. Do not worry so."

Tempest obediently took the gown from Lysira and laid it carefully on the bed. She removed her clothing while Lysira busied herself twining the apple blossoms through the woven circlet made from the pliable young branches. She was glad she had taken time to bathe earlier.

On the bed lay a white chemise, white stockings and a pair of golden slippers.

Tempest picked up the chemise. It was made of cotton so light and gauzy it seemed to float in her hands. Tiny pink apple blossoms were embroidered around the bodice and hem. She pulled it on and let it float sensuously down her slim body, almost like the silk chemise Miriam had made for her. Miriam, her friend and teacher. She missed her sorely. If only Miriam could have been here to see her wed. But she was gone forever, to live only in memory.

"Bless you, Miriam," she whispered. "You will always be in my heart."

The white cotton stockings were next, then the golden slippers. She hesitated, almost afraid to touch the beautiful gown.

"Tempest," Lysira urged as she came to help her, "the gown will not bite you." She picked it up and lowered it gently over Tempest's head and b.u.t.toned the long row of gold b.u.t.tons at the back. "Now we must do something with your hair."

'Twas almost twilight, almost time to light the Beltane fire.

Where was Tempest? Adrian fidgeted as he stood by the stone altar, waiting for his bride. It seemed like he had waited for

hours. His new cobalt blue tunic itched from the gold thread his mother had so painstakingly embroidered on it. He ran his finger under the edge of the velvet tunic and scratched his neck.

The oak leaves looked nice, but the heavy gold thread irritated his skin. His matching hose felt way too tight and restrictive.

Where was she? Had she changed her mind? Had telling her the truth of his heritage been a mistake after all? Had she fled Ravensnest? He could not lose her now. Tempest was his life, his salvation. She could help him find his dragon wings again, help him regain that which he missed so much.

Nay, there was Tristan, dressed in Damien's clothing- black of course, his father never wore anything but black. It looked good on Tristan, though, with his blond hair. Worry raced through his mind as he watched Tristan walk to the altar to stand beside him. Where was Tempest? G.o.ds, he could not wait much longer. Mayhap he should go look for her. Mayhap she had been kidnapped. Mayhap...

"Adrian." Damien's pleasant baritone voice interrupted his panicked thoughts. "Your bride approaches."

Adrian's mind stopped its frantic scurrying, and he felt an almost physical blow to the pit of his belly as he watched Tempest walk slowly toward him. The late afternoon sun surrounded her with a nimbus of golden light. Her flame-red mane hung loose and flowing; it covered her shoulders like a living cape of fire. Her hair curled in riotous abandon around the circlet of apple blossoms which proudly wreathed her head.

In her hands she carried a bouquet of apple blossoms and shiny new oak leaves.

Her golden gown glittered in the sunlight as she walked, swaying with each step, flashing golden light and sending shock waves throughout his body. She was a golden G.o.ddess and soon she would be his-a golden G.o.ddess to wed a golden dragon.

Marisa, in a gown of pale blue velvet, followed behind Tempest. Her light blue eyes met Tristan's green ones. A soft smile of pure joy crossed her lovely face as she went to stand beside him.

Tempest stood beside Adrian, and Lysira approached the

front of the altar, which was covered with freshly picked spring flowers spread over a cloth of gold. Three tall tapered candles stood proudly in the center.

"May the G.o.ds bless these unions," Lysira began as she lit the candles. She turned to the two young couples. "May the Earth Mother bring you fruitfulness and may the Sun G.o.d bring you strength."

Reverently, she raised her hands to the heavens and continued. "As the Sun G.o.d and the Moon Maiden meet in the heavens, may they bless the union of these souls in marriage."

She lowered her hands, and they all watched silently as the sun set and the moon rose, a silver glowing circle in the twilight skies.

"Who gives these maidens?" asked Lysira.

"I do," Damien responded, stepping forward. He took Tempest's hand and laid it in Adrian's, then laid Marisa's hand in Tristan's and stepped back.

"Adrian, Tristan what is your pledge?" Lysira asked solemnly.

Adrian and Tristan turned and looked deeply into the eyes of their brides as they vowed their love.

"By Oak and Ash and Thorne, I take you as my bride.

To love, protect and cherish, forever at my side.

The G.o.ds above bear witness to my eternal vow.

Bless our love this gentle day, with love our hearts endow.

This vow I make to you my love, Forever shall I be Your lover and protector, through all eternity."

"Tempest, Marisa," Lysira continued, "what is your pledge?"

Tempest's and Marisa's eyes glowed with happiness as they

spoke their vows.

"By Oak and Ash and Thorne, I pledge my love to you.

My heart, my life, my lover I always shall be true.

The G.o.ds above bear witness and look into my heart.

See the love within its depths and tear us not apart.

This vow I give to you my love, always shall I be Close by your side to be your mate For all eternity."

"Your vows spoken," Lysira concluded, "your pledges made, I declare, with the approval of the G.o.ds, these to be true and blessed marriages. May you live always in peace and harmony."

She kissed the cheek of each newlywed. "Kiss your brides my sons."

'Twas a wonderful celebration. Tempest closed her eyes and leaned back into Adrian's strong arms as they stood by the bonfire. She was contented and thoroughly happy.

Damien, being the elder male, had lit the fire. They all ceremoniously threw their small bundles on the blazing bonfire, then each took one of the long streamers connected to the maypole and danced around it. As they danced, the long satin ribbons wound tighter and tighter down the middle of the pole, and the crown of flowers slipped slowly to its final destination.

It settled finally upon the earth, and the ritual was complete.

They all stood in silent reverence, knowing they had done their part to ensure a fertile season for another year.

Tristan broke the silence. "I am hungry," he announced as he took Marissa's hand and started back toward the cottage.

"Besides," he added with a leer, "I am sure Adrian wishes to

hurry things up so he can show Tempest his surprise."

"Tris," Adrian growled in warning.

"Surprise?" asked Tempest. "What surprise?"

"You will know soon enough, my love."

And, no matter how much she wheedled and cajoled, he would say no more on the subject.

Supper was wonderful fare. The three women had been cooking for days and the table was piled high with food.

Succulent pheasant-stuffed with wheaten bread, seasoned with spicy herbs and last Autumn's acorns-parched corn made into a steamy pudding, new peas in freshly churned b.u.t.ter sauce, walnut bread still warm from the skillet, smoked fish on a silver platter and roasted venison surrounded by breaded mushrooms made it a feast fit for a royal family.

Lysira went to the hearth and brought the crowning glory of the Beltane feast to the table. She uncovered a steaming pot of freshly picked asparagus, grown in a special covered mound especially for the celebration. The thick white stalks floated in a creamy sauce. The aroma made Tempest's mouth water and her knees go weak with hunger and antic.i.p.ation.

Soon they were seated around the table, their plates piled high, their goblets filled with May wine.

Adrian raised his precious gla.s.s goblet in a toast. "To Beltane," he said, "and to my beautiful new bride. May she give me many sons."

Tempest blushed and raised her goblet. "To Beltane," she agreed, "and to my new Dragon Lord. May he give me many daughters!"

Everyone laughed and raised their goblets as Adrian smiled enthusiastically at her comment. He whispered in her ear. "I cannot wait to start making those daughters you requested, little witch. You have me under your spell, now and always."

She choked on her wine and he pounded her on the back.

"Do not hurt her, Adrian," Tristan said with a sly smile.

"'Tis your wedding night. Remember? I am sure you would not want to spend it alone."

"Aye." Adrian stood up and took Tempest's small hand in his. "I would give you your wedding gift now, my sweet."

Tristan and Damien sn.i.g.g.e.red, and Lysira, who was seated between them, poked them hard in the ribs. They both gave her pained looks, and Damien returned silently to his meal.

Marisa blushed and slipped her small hand into Tristan's.

They looked at each other and quietly slipped from the table and out into the night.

Adrian and Tempest walked hand-in-hand out to where her horse was tethered near the cottage. He helped her mount, leaped into the saddle behind her, and they rode into the dark forest.

The man reached out and gently touched the softly glowing crystal ball. As his finger caressed it, the crystal glowed brighter, the images inside becoming more distinct with each gentle, tapping caress.

They watched Tempest and Adrian mount a horse and head into the ancient forest.

"You would watch them on the night of their wedding?" Disgust was evident in the woman's voice. "For shame."

"Not shame, my dear," he smiled, a twinkle in his sparkling blue eyes. "Just interest. This was my doing after all, you know."

"Do I?" she questioned, her enormous brown eyes staring steadily into his. "Would not their love have grown without our meddling?"

"It probably would have," he answered begrudgingly. "But if Adrian is my grandson, then I have no regrets. I would see him happy. I only wish I knew for certain.

I wish I could remember."

"Cover the crystal, dear," she chided gently, handing him a green silk scarf taken from around her neck. "This night must belong to them alone."