The Black Lyon Read Free Page B

her chin into the air. "You must allow my father to show you the workings of a good crossbow."
    Ranulf raised one eyebrow at her. "Find you a target that is as far as your father's best archer can shoot."
    Lyonene pointed to a white-barked tree not far away. She watched as Ranulf pulled the six-foot longbow string to his ear, an arrow with black and green feathers held lightly between his fingers. The muscles on his arms stood out. The arrow was released with a sharp twang of silk. Lyonene gasped as she saw it land more than twice the distance of the tree she had chosen.
    Ranulf merely looked at her, one quick glance that made her remember her boast of crossbows. Then, before she could recover from her surprise, he began to insert arrows, drawn from the leather bag at his waist, and fire them with a dazzling rapidity. In less than a minute, he had fired ten arrows, never once missing the tree.
    She stared up at him. "I have never seen the like." She lifted her skirts and ran toward the distant tree. She struggled to pull an arrow from the tree and was startled when Ranulf appeared beside her and easily removed the arrow she could not. She had not heard him approach.
    She turned to him, laughing. "I think there is little that my father can teach you."
    Ranulf said not a word, but his expression showed that he agreed with her.
    "You must show this Welsh longbow to him. He will train his men to use it."
    "Nay, I do not think so. Even my own men refuse to use it. They think it an unchivalrous weapon and have a fear that it will somehow reduce them to foot soldiers."
    "I see that you do not have such a fear yourself." Her eyes twinkled and laughter threatened to escape as he raised one eyebrow at her. "Think I could leam to shoot this long stick?"
    "You may try." Ranulf demonstrated the proper handling of the new weapon.
    Lyonene took it in all confidence but found she could not bend the bow more than an inch or two. She looked in exasperation to Ranulf.
    Quickly, he stood behind her, his great arms about her, and pulled the strong bow back. As Ranulf bent to sight the arrow, he was aware of the fragrance of her—roses and smoke—and of her cool cheek so near his. He could feel every luscious curve of her against him, her buttocks pressed against his groin. He ached to turn her to him, longed to feel her softness near him, to kiss her moist lips, parted slightly now in concentration. He tried to give directions to her concerning the bow but found that his voice betrayed his desire since-her ear was so close to his lips; he could almost taste the flesh of her earlobe between his teeth. She released the arrow.
    "I hit it!"
    She turned in his arms, and he held her, lightly, not even daring to breathe for fear he'd crush her in his surging desire.
    Lyonene felt her heart would burst, it was beating so hard. His arms were about her, his hands on her back, and she could feel the warmth of him through her heavy woolen surcoat. She looked from his eyes to his lips, and she hoped he would kiss her, yes, she wanted him to kiss her, and her heart beat faster as unconsciously she swayed toward him, her soft breasts touching his chest. She felt his sharp intake of breath. His face was so close that she could feel his breath, so warm and soft. How would it feel to kiss a man?
    His arms dropped away.
    "Dinner will be served and my mother will expect me." She searched for something calming to say. She smiled up 13
    at him. "Thank you for the archer's lesson, and now, Lion, we needs must return to the castle, for my father's temper would make even a lion tremble when his viands are late."
    At his look of puzzlement at her name for him, she continued. "It is strange, is it not, that we are both named for lions? M y father vows that on the day of my birth I gave him such a look of contempt that he named me for a lioness, but my mother says he thought of the name Lyonene because of the color of my hair."
    Ranulf lightly touched a strand of her tawny