Free Carolyne Cathey by The Wager

man.
    Brigham glanced
at her, then at Lord Kyle's near nudity.  His eyes narrowed and she sensed his
hatred.  Had he perceived her intention?  He moved toward the hearth, slapping
the parchment against his palm as if in conniving thought.
    Lord Kyle dropped
the towel from his waist and slipped the robe over his glorious nakedness. 
"What, Brigham?  What cannot wait until the morrow?"
    The steward held
out the missive.  "A messenger delivered this, last eve.  Since 'tis from
the king I knew the contents must be of great import."
    Lord Kyle sighed
and reached for the scroll.
    The instant his
fingers touched the missive, a sudden darkness swirled in Eleanor's mind. 
    An arrow
pierced a white cross.  Blood spattered like stars against the midnight sky
until all dripped red.  A dragon rose from the flames of hell.  The stench of
burnt flesh.  Screams.  Death.  
    Hers?  Lord
Kyle's?
    The blackness
faded to the sight of Brigham and Lord Kyle, the scrolled parchment in both of
their hands as the missive passed from one to the other.  Willing her raging
pulse to slow before her heart burst, she wiped her shaky fingers across her
eyes to clear her gaze and to still her dizziness. 
    A dragon rose
from the flames of hell .
    Earlier, Sir
Jerrod had mentioned that a dragon haunted Lord Kyle's nightmares.  Might the
dragon be Brigham?  Or the king?  An icy sliver of fear sliced up her spine.
    Lord Kyle stood,
a silhouette against the flames, his head tilted downward while he concentrated
on the scroll, his face stiff, stone-like, as if he, too, sensed the evil. 
Then he tossed the missive atop a chest beside the hearth.
    "Later,
Brigham."
    "Kyle, what
is the matter with you?  'Tis from the king.  Do you have so little control
that you can't part from this wench for even a moment?"
    "We'll
discuss this on the morrow."
    "She blinds
you to your duty.  This witch has cast a spell on you."
    The accusation
shook her from her silence.  "I am not a witch, Sirrah!"
    Brigham spun to
face her.  "I see your eyes.  Witch's eyes."  He took Lord Kyle by
his arm.  "Come with me to the solar."
    "Leave,
Brigham.  My food grows cold."
    "Then
dispense with this Satan's tool.  I'll sit with you while you eat."
    Despite the risk
to her life, she burned with an urgency to warn Lord Kyle of certain danger,
but she must wait until Brigham departed.  He already believed her touched by
the devil.  If he knew of her revelations---and worse, if he knew she would do
her utmost to see him ousted---he would not rest until he had her tied to a
stake, with a torch to the brush.
    "And yet,
the dragon . . ."
     Eleanor caught a
breath.  Had she spoken her thought?  Fear that she had, paralyzed her body.
    Lord Kyle jerked
his gaze to hers.  His face became as pale as chalk.  In one long stride he
stood before her, then gripped her arms and pulled her to her feet. 
    "What know
you of this dragon?"
    Brigham appeared
startled.  "I warned you she's a witch, Kyle.  You should have let me tend
to her at the green."
    Lord Kyle's fingers
dug into her arms, his eyes filled with confusion and fear.  "What of the
dragon?"
    Whenever had she
been so dull-witted?  How to correct the damage and yet tell the truth? 
Fearful she had doomed herself to the fiery death that had just flared in her
mind, she only stared at Lord Kyle as he shook her like doomed prey within
falcon's claws.
    "Speak,
woman!"
    Eleanor swallowed
to ease the dryness.  "When . . . when Brigham handed you the message, a
dragon rose from the flames of hell---"
    Brigham shoved
between her and Lord Kyle.  "You are the dragon with your green eyes and
witch's tongue."
    "Nay,
Sirrah!  You're but angered that Lord Kyle took me before you could cut off my
hand."
    "The
insolence!" 
    Her cheek stung
from a slap, then she stumbled against her chair.
    Lord Kyle yanked
Brigham and slung him against the stone wall.  "You touch her again and
I'll kill you."
    "She's
naught but a whoring