N. Walters - Threads of Destiny

Anything that needed doing, there was someone skilled who could do it.

The blacksmith, who was actually Mara’s brother, had wanted to talk to her about her tweezers. He was trying to make something similar but slightly larger so that Mara would have a pair to use in her healing duties. She’d found herself sketching designs in the dirt for several medical instruments. A gruff man by the name of Dumphries, he had been intrigued and excited by the challenge of creating them, especially when she promised him that he could have her tweezers.

She’d met quite a few people today, including Mara’s family, which consisted of her husband, their four children and her husband’s brother. At first, everyone they’d come across had been reticent but they’d quickly warmed up to her, chatting and inviting her to view whatever they were working on or asking her into their homes. Christina and Mara were a great source of information. What those two women didn’t know about the people and workings of the castle wasn’t worth knowing.

And Mara. Kathryn was in awe of the other woman’s knowledge of plants and their medicinal properties. She’d studied botany but Mara knew things that you couldn’t find in books. She had a feeling she could talk to the older woman for years and still not learn a fraction of what the she could teach her.

Christina was skilled at spinning and weaving and had learned to cook since she’d come to Castle Garen as a bride. It was obvious that everyone there adored her. That was another reason that Kathryn couldn’t stay. It would be awkward with the two of them here, wouldn’t it?

Yet, Christina had hinted more than once that it would be nice to be able to talk with another woman who understood what she’d gone through and where she’d come from. Jane visited but it wasn’t as often as either of them would like.

Kathryn had told her what had become of Earth. Christina had been shocked but not overly surprised by many of the changes. It had been easy to talk to both Mara and Christina and she’d enjoyed herself in spite of the fact that she knew she was leaving.

As beautiful as the castle was, as much as she liked the people she’d met and as much as Marc held her heart, her place wasn’t here. This was a place of magic. She was a woman of science. Plus, there was the fact that someone had to stop her father and General Caruthers in their mad bid to control the world and destroy those outside the Gate. Earth needed changes if all its people were to survive.

She’d left her companions in the kitchen and gone in search of Marc. Jarek had met her just inside the main entrance. He seemed older than he had yesterday, the lines on his face deeper. Concerned, she’d asked him if he was okay.

He’d stared at her as if trying to see inside her, to read her very thoughts and examine her soul. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience. Then he’d shaken his head and offered her a smile, telling her all was well. She didn’t believe him but she hadn’t called him on it either. He’d told her that Marc was still down at the stables and then left her standing there.

His mood had left her unsettled but she shook it off as she slipped past the stable door. It was darker in here and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. The smells were more pungent here, more earthy. The scent of horses, leather and hay permeated the very walls of the place. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, merely different from anything she’d ever experienced. She’d only seen horses in books until she’d come here and she longed to actually touch one.

She crept down the long aisle and found Marc in a large stall, brushing a gigantic black horse. His large sword was leaning against the wall of the stall, allowing him more freedom of movement around the animal.

Leaning against the door, she watched him, once again taken by the broad strength of his shoulders and arms and the gentleness of his touch as he groomed the animal.

The rhythmic motion of the brush was hypnotic. She could almost feel the touch as if it were her body he stroked.

Her breasts grew heavy and her nipples puckered. This was crazy. After last night, she figured she’d be sated for weeks to come. But the simple sight of Marc brushing the silky hide of his horse had all her hormones on alert. Her skin felt sensitized and the slight breeze coming in through the door ruffled her hair and made her tingle all over.

Between her thighs, she could feel the folds of her sex growing thick and damp.

A soft sigh escaped her lips and Marc whirled around to face her, sword in hand.

He’d moved so quickly, she hadn’t even seen him draw his weapon. He held the heavy blade in front of her, both of them frozen in time. Then Marc cursed and sheathed his weapon, propping it back against the wall within easy reach. “I was lost in thought and did not hear you. I feared that maybe one of our guests had returned to challenge for you.”

“Is that likely?” Christina had told her that the challenge was over, that all the single men had accepted the fact that the tapestry had brought her to Castle Garen.

“No.” He turned back to the large beast and resumed grooming him. Marc seemed to be in an unusual mood. Or maybe it was a normal one. She didn’t really know him well enough to say. In spite of that fact, she could sense that he was tense and out of sorts and she felt certain that wasn’t usual for him. Not quite sure what to say or how to handle things, she decided to ignore it for now. If he wanted to tell her what was on his mind, he would.

The horse whinnied and stamped its large hooves. The long tail swished to one side and it turned its head and pinned her with dark, liquid eyes. She’d never seen anything quite like it in her life.

Kathryn sidled over closer, wanting to get a better look at the horse. Up close, it was huge. Much larger than she’d expected. She reached out her hand and then pulled it back. What if it didn’t like her? What if it decided to bite her? She eyed the animal’s rather large face and jaw. There had to be a lot of teeth in there.

“Do you want to touch him?”

Muscles worked in Marc’s jaw but she didn’t sense that he was angry or upset with her. She shifted closer and watched as the muscles in his shoulders rippled. “Yes. I’ve never seen a real horse before.”

“Never?”

She sensed his surprise and smiled. “No. I’ve seen pictures in books but this is the first opportunity I’ve ever had to actually see a real one.” Marc smiled at her then and all her concerns fell away. The sun streaming in through an open window surrounded him, making him appear like some guardian angel or a hero from an epic poem. His brown hair flowed to his waist, caressing his bare shoulders and biceps. The vest he wore was open, revealing the hard planes of his chest. She’d touched that chest, slept with her face snuggled against it, yet like the horse, he seemed almost too good to be real.

He captured her easily with his golden-brown gaze and she leaned closer to him.

She simply wanted to be near him, wanted to touch him. God, how she would miss him when she was gone.

Resentment filled her at the thought of having to return to her home. Why had the tapestry shown her this glimpse of heaven when she had to go back and right the wrongs of her father? It wasn’t fair. But then, she’d learned early in life that fair had nothing to do with anything. Fair only happened in stories and fairytales.

“Give me your hand.” He didn’t wait for her to comply but reached down and captured her fingers in his. Slowly, he raised her hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle in turn before lifting it and placing it against the horse’s neck.

She could feel the heat and the silky coat of the horse beneath her fingers. “What’s his name?”