Just as well. If she was the one, she’d been a great disappointment, her and her mud-colored eyes. How Ulfr had ever thought she looked anything like Christiana was beyond his reckoning.
Low in his belly, the beast stirred, as if it feasted on his thoughts of sensual pleasures.
Surely there would be one among these crowds tonight who might meet his needs.
His hall was filled with scores of men and women, all eating his food, drinking his ale, sucking off the teat of his generosity. The tables were lined with them and more crowded around in clumps, laughing and talking with one another.
When the music began, the revelers cleared a space on the floor. One of the female minstrels twirled into that open space, her hair and her skirtsflowing out around her, drawing his attention to the musicians in the far corner of his hall.
This festivity wasn’t to his taste but his men seemed to be enjoying the performance and that, after all, was why he’d chosen to allow this. He needed the loyalty of these men in the coming days. There would be battles to be fought before his strength grew, and in that time he would be dependent upon them.
Soon, though, he would uncover all the secrets of the scrolls. And when he did, his mastery of their Magic would seal these men and any others he chose to his cause. They would dance to his tune without his needing to work for their petty loyalties. They would belong to him blindly, doing his bidding forever.
He emptied his cup and smiled, catching the eye of another passing server as he lifted the cup for a refill.
His back ached from the hours he’d stood this day, forcing his mind, bending his will to accomplish the next task, the one that would allow him to send not only his spirit but also his body traveling from one location to another through the Magical ether that surrounded everything.
He’d failed again, but he was close. He could feel it.
Deep inside, the beast stirred. The beast could feel how close he was to conquering the Magic, too.
To his left he caught sight of Halldor O’Donar.Though the big man watched the festivities in the hall, his eyes roamed, always on guard.
Torquil lifted his tankard once more, sparing a thought for how much he hoped that O’Donar was the brother who would become his new champion. He liked the look of that one.
He followed the direction of the big man’s gaze, straight to the woman who accompanied the minstrels. Her body moved with the beat of the drums, a slow, fluid extension of arm and leg as if time slowed down in some majestic battle.
Each time she looked up she looked directly at Torquil, with a brazen refusal to avert her gaze from his. No shy, coy maiden, that one.
What could she think to gain by such bold behavior? Surely one such as she didn’t imagine she might catch the laird’s eye. The thought required his amazing self-discipline to prevent his laughing out loud.
The very idea of a lowly woman such as she daring to hope to wed a man as powerful as he was beyond funny.
“No wedding in yer future,” he muttered into his cup, surprised to find it empty so soon.
He lifted his tankard once again, his humor fading as the dancer made her way across the floor in his direction.
No marriage, but a bedding, perhaps? She was a bit overly large for his tastes, but a coupling with one who moved as she did could be entertaining for a night.
She certainly seemed to have caught O’Donar’s eye. As she approached the head of the table where he sat, O’Donar rose to his feet and moved in their direction.
Yes, a bedding might be in order with this one. Even the beast within stirred in interest. If she pleased him, and if it came to pass that the big warrior down the table was his new champion, he could gift her to the man. Surely a move such as that would ensure O’Donar’s loyalty for a good, long time.
At least for as long as it took for Torquil to conquer the Magic.
Torquil chuckled aloud at the knowledge of his coming power. The woman moving closer obviously thought his mirth was directed at her, because her lips curved in a return smile.
Let her think what she wanted. A whole new set of thoughts would be running through that pretty head when he had her delivered to his chamber later tonight.
HALLDOR DIDN’T LIKEthe looks of this. Not one damn bit.
Though a seductive smile curved the lips of the woman who performed with the minstrels, it didn’t reach her eyes. The windows to her soul were filled with resolve and determination.
She moved with a grace that would give the warrior queen a run for her money, but this one still carried the blush of youth firm upon her cheeks.
As she danced her way closer to the head table, closer to the dangerous laird of the castle, Halldor continued moving his way through the throngs of men to track her movements. Whatever she planned to do, he would intercede. She was no match for the evil she confronted.
Especially not under these circumstances.
