He managed a smile. "I have never before heard of a witch saving a wizard."

"I haven't either." Her fingers closed around his wrist. "How do you feel, truly?"

"I am strong again. I am myself. Why?"

She sighed, dropped her fingers from his wrist. "I have always believed that a man or a wizard should die when he harms another, but not when he is arrogant, because he believes all the way to his big feet that he can overcome all odds. No, that is not such a bad thing. And your arrogance, prince, it is such a deep part of you. It pleases me."

He liked hearing that. "What did you do to those a.s.sa.s.sins?"

"I tangled them all together, arms around legs and legs around necks, all crisscrossed and wound through and about. As for that man, Branneck, I left him in the air, unable to fall to the ground, and he was howling. I don't know how long the spell will last. Perhaps if they free themselves, they'll be able to pull him down."

"They were from Mawdoor."

"Oh, yes," she said. "I believe he was testing for weakness. He didn't care about any of them. He probably believed you would simply kill them, but the way in which you did it, aye, he would have learned more about you, and perhaps he would have seen a weakness."

He started to say that he didn't have any weaknesses, and instead he sighed. "He found it."

"Aye, this time he did."

"If Mawdoor was watching what happened, then he saw that I was also a fool to challenge them as a mortal. Mayhap he believes me dead. It is very possible, you know. A wizard cannot follow you in here, can he? With his mind?"

Slowly she shook her head. "You came into my forest at great risk. I believe the sacred oaks flatten a wizard's powers, I suppose you could say, since they are my oaks, since they are filled with my own power. I am very well protected."

"Then I was smart to have Callas lead me to you."

"Aye, you were." She smiled at him, lightly touched her fingertips to his chest. "We both survived."

"Aye, through no skill of mine. I wanted to make you laugh, Brecia, to make you admire me. I wanted you to see how I could reduce those miserable sots to wallowing pigs, but I failed. d.a.m.n you, you saved my life."

"Touch me again," she said. "My breast."

If there was a wizard's heaven, he knew he was there. He couldn't believe what she'd just said. He looked down. Her breast was white, all the blood gone. He kissed her, took her nipple into his mouth. Ah, so warm, her warmth filled him. He raised his face, breathed in her flesh. She brought him back down to her. He said against her warm flesh, "No one has kissed you, Brecia?"

He'd said something, she knew that, but what it was couldn't matter as the wild feelings crashed through her. She felt as though she could flya"she could even carry him whilst she flew. She wanted to shout, wanted him to kiss her until she was unconscious.

What was happening to her?

She'd never felt anything like this in her life.

Whatever they were, these feelings were pounding and digging at her, bringing near pain in her belly and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, aching, making her want to gasp and laugh, and yell, all at the same time. And here he was, at his ease, stroking her so gently it could have been the wings of a hummingbird, not a wizard's fingers. What was wrong with him? Didn't he feel anything that she was feeling? Was he a block of oak?

She reared up and pushed him over onto his back. "Prince," she said, and began ripping off his clothes. He lay there, unblinking, wondering what was happening to her. Whatever it was, he wasn't about to do anything that would stop her from this incredible madness. l.u.s.t was turning his innards molten. Did a witch feel such l.u.s.t? Evidently so.

In an instant she was naked, straddling him, and he felt her belly pressing against his s.e.x. She was rubbing her hands down his chest to his belly, and then she was moving down on him, sliding between his legs, and he knew this was going to be a close thing all around.

"Brecia, slow down. You must slow down. I am not like you, Ia""

"No," she said, and closed her mouth around him. He rose six inches off her bed, her on top of him, and stayed there. He sucked the blue smoke close and breathed it in. It tasted like an aphrodisiac. He laid his hands on her.

He hadn't imagined anything like this. Then he didn't have any more time to imagine anything. She was clutching him between her hands now, and he was so hard he could have thrust through time itself. And then she was straddling him again and she was bringing him into her, slowly, and then she cried out and shoved down on him, taking him all the way to her womb.

The pain was something she hadn't known about. It was sharp, deep, and she screamed, but it wasn't just pain that sent her scream through the oak forest, it was mad joy and possessiona"her act of possession, of him, a wizard of her choice, a wizard whose blood she now shared. She was apart from him, driven by powers that had overwhelmed her.

He'd never before seen such l.u.s.t, such incredible strength and intensity in either a woman or a witch. She wanted him and she was taking him.

The witch was taking him. The instant he thought it, he moaned deep in his throat. He grabbed her, brought her down to kiss her. She was frantic, kisses not enough, she was moving on him, and moaning, her witch's eyes wild and vague. She was pressing down on him, but he felt the power of his own l.u.s.t lifting him even more until he could feel the sweep of sweet air on his naked back and b.u.t.tocks. And he said, "Brecia, I will give you all that I can." He eased his fingers between their bodies, and found her. He stroked her, felt the softness of her, the frenzied desire, the explosion of her power, all mixed together and he wanted to weep that she was his and would remain his forever.

His fingers pressed, stroked, and pushed her closer to something she knew was there but didn't yet understand. The heel of his hand was pressing against her, his fingers dancing on her flesh, and his s.e.x, probing deep inside her. She saw it all in her mind, felt every breath he took all the way to her soul. She stiffened over him, threw her head back and yelled to the heavens themselves. He watched her in that instant before he took his own release. By all the G.o.ds, it was fine. He held her close, knowing they were together in the madness, and then they both flew upward into the blue smoke, out of the fortress, and took wing into the skies above them.

When Brecia came to herself, she didn't know where they werea"she just knew they weren't lying above her bed. She was on top of him, he was still inside her, and she was content.

He was kissing her ear, licking, nibbling at her earlobe. He said, his voice deep, almost an echo, "What you and I do, Brecia, it is only tricks and games. But this"a"he squeezed her harda""this is the magic, the madness."

"Where are we?"

He said after a moment, surprise in his voice, "I don't know." But then he did know, and he was pleased with himself, with his instincts.

"It doesn't matter. We can breathe and talk and it's warm. I can feel the warmth on my flesh."

She was still on top of him, lying flat now just as she had when she'd pressed her heart against his, taking the wound, the pain, the blood, into her. She leaned down and kissed his mouth.

"You could have died, you stupid witch."

Since she was kissing him, his words slurred into her mouth, and she bit his tongue. She said to him as she nipped his nose, his chin, "I see. So you would have let me die if I'd been the one hurt? You'd have done nothing?"

"I know spells, I know potions. I would have done something that would have saved you."

"That is a good thing to know."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her very tight against him. They were naked and he felt his seed on her belly and her legs. "You conceived my son," he said, and squeezed her again. A wizard's squeeze this time, and she yelped.

"Don't break my ribs, you fool."

"I, a fool? I was not the one who attacked you, Brecia. Actually, I would have gotten around to it, but I was still lying there, wondering if I would live or die and wanting to beat you for what you'd done. Hmmm. I have never known a woman to attack a man before."

"I don't know what came over me," she said, but there was pride in her voice and wickedness, and he smiled as he kissed her throat.

"Whatever came over you can come again and again." He lifted her so he could kiss her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He breathed in deeply, licked her soft flesh, and pulled her tightly to him again. "Attack me, Brecia, whenever it pleases you to do so."

"All right," she said, and he felt her smile against his cheek. "There is only one thing that concerns me, prince. It would appear that you don't know much about dealing with mortal men. Just look what happeneda"one of them managed to stick a knife in your black heart. It just doesn't seem possible."

He said slowly, "It didn't seem possible to me either, until I realized that they weren't men, though they were mortals, vicious ones."

"What do you mean they weren't men?"

"I realized that Mawdoor gave them a bit of power by enhancing their skills beyond the ordinary, adding to their strength. He hoped it would be enough to kill me."

"Thank the ghosts that the power he gave them wasn't enough. Do you really believe you impregnated me, prince?"

She was on her elbows above him, and she was looking at his mouth. He smiled at her, touched his fingertips to her chin, the tip of her nose. "Aye, my child is in your womb. I will not be such a fool again. If there is to be a next time, I will be the one protecting you, Brecia."

She felt a sudden chill, or maybe it was a ruffle of wind through her hair, drying her sweat and his as well. "I don't like this," she said, sniffing the air. "I want to know where we are."

He didn't answer her. She stared down at him, realized he was still inside her, hard again. She could feel herself stretching around him. His breath was warm in her face, and he wanted her.

"We're in a cave," he said finally, yawned, and was even harder than just the moment before. "We're in my cave."

"Your cave? You have a cave? How could that be possible? Which cave is your cave? There are no caves in my oak forest."

"No, there are no caves in your forest. I suppose this is where I always felt safe when I was young. The cave isn't very deep, so there was never any fear of monsters or enemies hiding to come upon me and slay me. Aye," he said, "I somehow brought you here to my cave."

"It's warm, the air is warm. It smells sweet, like newly grown gra.s.s."

"Aye, all of that. I just brought you a breath of breeze. Did you feel it?"

"It dried our sweat. And you even brought blankets for us to lie on."

"Aye, I did. In your bed, if you will remember, once you began having your way with me, I never touched it. You brought me off your bed, Brecia, with your l.u.s.t."

"Now that I think of it, I did think it was very easy to put my arms around your back," she said, and nipped his chin.

He was a wizard. He found no surprise in what he'd done without even focusing his mind on it. Truth be told, she hadn't thought of anything either. She'd known something was happening when her body had flown upward into the heavens, but she hadn't thought, hadn't begun to realize that even in his own l.u.s.t his will had preempted hers. His will was the stronger.

She was suddenly afraid. He was the more powerful. To admit that to herself would be to admit to a lesser position. She hated that, and it frightened her. And now this. Had she really conceived, after just one joining? No, it wasn't possible, was it? When she returned to her oak forest, she would consult the old ghost who was blind but could see into the heart of an oak tree, into a streak of flame, into a witch's womb.

He was moving again inside her, hard, smooth, deep. "Brecia," he said into her mouth as he drew her down, "come with me again. We may end up this time back in your fortress. I will set my mind to it if you wish."

And it was his will that would take them back, not hers. She kissed him and forgot to worry, forgot to be afraid. l.u.s.t roared through her, making her ears ring. "Oh, yes," she whispered against his temple. "Oh, yes."

Present Bishop awoke and wanted her again, so powerfully that his brain couldn't even focus on the specific words that possibly could convince her to let him have her, again.

He merely rolled on top of her, spread her legs, and came into her.

Her eyes snapped open. He was big and he was inside her body. She wasn't afraid; she wasn't even overly concerned. She knew to the soles of her bare feet that it would be different now. It was already beginning. He was part of hera"such an incredible thinga"a man inside your body. He was deep inside her, then pulling back, only to come in again.

She kissed his shoulder. He came up on his elbows.

"Merryn? I swear you will like this."

"I know," she said. "I think I'm already beginning to."

He kissed her, and each time he lifted his mouth off hers, he told her in great detail what he wanted to do to her. And as he spoke, his fingers slid over her belly to find her. She stared up at him. The wildness came over her so quickly, she didn't think, just screamed and screamed again.

She heard him over her, his breathing hard, fast, and then he wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back, bringing her over him, and he was still deep inside her, and she didn't want to scream now, just wanted to mayhap whisper how she felt, let it flow through her, and know that if she had to move she would die on the spot.

She lay on top of him, felt his hands moving down her back, onto her hips, and he was kneading her flesh, squeezing, pressing her down on him, and he said, "What do you think, Merryn? Did you enjoy me?"

"Oh, yes," she said. "Oh, yes." She sounded absurdly pleased with herself.

"Now, we must solve that d.a.m.ned curse so we can marry, because you have conceived my son."

That gave her back a modic.u.m of strength, and she sat up on him. "Surely that isn't possible. How would you know such a thing? Surely men don't even think about that when they begin roaring and pounding."

"I just know. If you wish to speak about roaring and pounding, then think about the yells that came out of your mouth. You nearly deafened me with your pleasure."

He had a point there. She said, "You think you are that potent, my lord?"

He pulled her back down, kissed her mouth until she was mewling, little sounds that drove him to madness, and she was moving on him, and he knew she wanted him, again, and he was hard inside her, and once more it began.

"Surely all this can't be what is done." She was panting the words and he was drowning in l.u.s.t, drowning in this seeming endless need for her.

"Oh, yes, this is just right. Trust me. Scream for me again, Merryn."

And she did. On the other hand, he yelled like a drunk warrior attacked by bandits. Merryn imagined just before she felt into an exhausted sleep, that after all this, she should be pregnant with at least three strapping sons.

She heard a laugh as she sank into sleep. Not a man's laugh, a woman's. Was it her? Her mouth wasn't moving, was it? But then the laugh was gone, and the air was still. She breathed in his scent, tasted the sweat of his shoulder, and smiled. She fell asleep with his heart pounding solid and steady against hers.

26.

BISHOP LEANED OVER THE black hole, waiting to be slapped again, waiting to hear that laugh again.

Nothing. There was no movement in the air, no sense that something else was near, something that he should understand, should be able to see, or sense, or at least feel.

He had a torch with him. He raised it high over the hole. He saw only blackness. He held it down in the hole. Nothing but darknessa"no ladder, nothing.

He was ready to believe he was mad, when suddenly the torch went out with a bang, as if someone had slammed it between two hands. Bishop was standing in the pitch black. He took a step back and stumbled over something. He landed on the sand floor of the cave.

Then, just as suddenly, the torch flamed up again, even though it was lying there in the sand. It was burning as brightly as it had been before those invisible hands had slammed together. Invisible hands? He'd surely been tossed into a witch's pot of madness. Aye, he'd been gaining in madness since he first saw Penwyth. Slowly he eased himself up, picked up the torch, and looked at what he'd tripped over.

He saw a stick half buried in the sand. A stick? Why hadn't he seen it before? Had he knocked it free of the sand when he'd tripped on it? It made sense, yet it didn't, not at all. Fear nibbling around the edges of his consciousness, Bishop studied the stick before he planted the torch in the sand, feeling it sink down a good six inchesa"and surely that was strange, for there was nothing beneath the sand save rock, was there? But it didn't matter. He reached for the stick, gently shoved away the rest of the sand, and lifted it.

His hand burned, suddenly, fiercely, as if he'd stuck it into a flame. He dropped the stick, rubbed his fingers, and just as suddenly the pain was gone. Without thinking, without pause, he reached out his right hand for it and lifted it. It was warm, that d.a.m.ned stick was warm against the skin of his hand. There was no burning, nothing but steady, pulsing warmth. It seemed that the stick was settling in, that it was made for his hand and no other's, and it fit his hand perfectly. It was perhaps a foot long, no longer. It felt like nothing he'd ever touched in his life. By all the saints' muttered prayers, he thought, he could tell it was old by the very feel of it. No, it wasn't just olda""old" was a word that didn't apply to it. No, it was beyond old, it was something from before anything a man could understand. He knew it, deep inside.

Nor was it just a simple stick, torn from a tree limb. He held it close to the torch. No, it was finely carved, indentations all around it where there had been stones, perhaps. Precious stones? He didn't know. He wasn't at all certain that it was wood. But it wasn't metal, he knew that. But then, what was it?

"Bishop?"

He looked up to see her standing not three feet away, watching him.

"Look, Merryn, I found it."

"What did you find?"