The Eagle and the Raven Read Free Page B

said softly.
    “Then stop talking.”
    In his wine-befuddled eagerness he tugged at her sleeping tunic and heard it tear, and then her breasts were under his fumbling fingers, his greedy mouth. She drew in her breath sharply and hissed, and the rain continued to fall, monotonously and dreamily.
    He could not restrain himself and it was over very quickly, but tonight she did not complain. It was always like this, an uncontrollable surge, the desperate, compulsive hunt for her, then the sharp, painful satiation. He rolled onto his back, his head on one arm, and gazed at the dim roof above him, wondering how and why as the little needles of shame began to prick. I have done it again, he thought despairingly. It was one thing to tumble a slave in the fields, or even the willing daughter of a freeman commoner, but this was Aricia his friend, Aricia who had shared in every escapade he and Tog had devised, Aricia, daughter of a ricon whose lineage stretched back much farther than his own. He wanted the earth to swallow him. He wanted the demons of Samain to come and take him to their caves. He wanted to die.
    She turned on her side, propped herself on one elbow and, not bothering to cover herself, pushed her hair back impatiently. Incredulous, he felt desire stir in him again.
    “Caradoc?”
    “Yes?”
    “Marry me.”
    He thought for a moment that he had not heard her right, but then realizing, he sat bolt upright.
    She wrapped her arms about her knees. “Yes, you heard me. I want you to marry me. I beg you, I implore you, Caradoc. Marry me!”
    “What are you asking of me?” he said sharply, his mind temporarily freed from its drugged preoccupation with her.
    She put a hot hand on his arm. “Are we not old friends?” she whispered. “Would it not be so easy, so very easy, to take the next step and become pledged to one another?” Her grip tightened on his arm. “It’s not such a great thing that I ask. After all, you can take other wives.”
    He laughed then, clearheaded. “You mean Eurgain, I suppose. Oh, no, Aricia. We have had great pleasure together, but I do not think we should speak of marriage. Now I must go.” He hurriedly swung his feet onto the cold floor but she restrained him with a force he had not known she possessed.
    “Why not? Don’t you think that I have a claim on you, Caradoc?”
    “What claim? Do you mean this?” He bent to kiss her but she squirmed away from him and flung open the curtains. The dim lamp light showed him a face shadowed with emotion, lips barely controlled, eyes brimming with tears.
    “I will play no more games with you, Caradoc. Where are the words of love you whisper to me in the darkness?”
    “Love has nothing to do with you and me, Aricia, and you know it.” He left the bed and dressed quickly, stepping into breeches that were still damp, pulling his wet tunic over his head. “I have made no promises to you.”
    She reached out and clung to the curtain as if her muscles had melted with her hope. “Caradoc, I am desperate. Do you know how old I am?”
    He buckled on his sword belt. “Of course I know. You are fourteen.”
    “The age of betrothal.”
    His busy fingers paused and he glanced at her, sensing the truth.
    “Very soon an embassy will come from my father, to take me home.” The tears overflowed and splashed onto her hands and she shook them off angrily. “Home! I can scarcely remember the barren moorlands and poverty-stricken huts of my birthplace. Oh, Caradoc, I do not want to go. I do not want to leave you and Tog and Eurgain, and Cunobelin who is like a father to me. I do not want to go away to a place I fear, among fierce, uncouth men!” Her voice faltered, and, sobbing, she slipped to the floor. “I, too, hate Samain and the rains of winter, the loneliness that will come. Must this night go by with no demon come to claim me and no man to wed me?”
    He went to her then and knelt beside her, and took her awkwardly into his arms, feeling sympathy