The Dark Warden (Book 6) Read Online Free PDF Page B

“You looked so solemn. So serious. But you always do.”
    “And you find that amusing?” said Ridmark.
    She grinned. “Yes, I do. So you ought to thank me. Apparently you allow yourself one moment of levity a day, and I help you to find it.” She tapped his chest with her other hand. “But why were you laughing at me?” 
    “Perhaps I was startled,” said Ridmark. “Perhaps it is good to see you laugh, because Morigna the Witch of the Hills is just as grim as Ridmark the Gray Knight.” 
    “The Gray Knight and the Witch of the Hills,” said Morigna. “It sounds like a dismal poem.”
    “Is that what you want?” said Ridmark. “For me to recite poetry at you?”
    There was something stronger than amusement in her black eyes. “What do you think?”
    He drew her close and kissed her. It was a damned foolish thing to do, here in the Torn Hills, but at the moment he did not care. She shivered and melted into him, kissing him with vigor. 
    Hunting and scouting were not the only areas where she could keep up with him. 
    A short time later they took shelter in the hollow of the hill, Ridmark’s cloak spread beneath them. That, too, was a damned foolish idea, but again he did not care. Morigna had been right. It had been a long time he had touched a woman. When he was with her, when he felt her shivering beneath him, he did not care that they were unwed, did not care about the consequences, and he forgot his sorrows and guilt and regret beneath the fire of her kisses and the heat her body against his. 
    He had heard the tale of David and Bathsheba from the book of the Kings of Israel, had read the history of Caesar and Anthony and Cleopatra of the Empire of the Romans, and he had always wondered how such powerful and honorable warriors had been foolish enough to risk everything to slake a moment’s lust.
    Now, after meeting Morigna, he knew.
    Though it was not as if he had much left to lose. 
    When they finished Ridmark rolled onto his back, breathing hard.
    “Gray Knight,” whispered Morigna when she caught her breath, “few men would have the vigor to walk all day, fight a battle, and then please a woman at the end, but you excel them all.”
    He laughed a little, sat up, and pulled his clothing back into place.
    She raised an eyebrow. “You have had your way with the Witch of the Hills and then you take your leave? Is that it?” 
    “We,” said Ridmark, “should not linger here.” 
    She sighed and stretched, arching her back, which held the entirety of Ridmark’s attention for a moment. “True enough.” She sat up and retrieved her clothing. “I suppose there will not be opportunity for this as we draw closer to Urd Morlemoch.”
    “No,” said Ridmark.
    Morigna considered him. “You seem…grim again. At least more solemn than a man should be, considering what you have just done.” 
    “Should I?” said Ridmark. “I take this seriously. This is not a casual affair, at least not for me. I am not a man to take a lover lightly.”
    “Given how much effort it took to persuade you,” said Morigna, a hint of her usual acerbity in her voice, “that is hardly a surprising pronouncement.”
    Ridmark stared at her.
    Morigna sighed. “Nor am I the sort of woman to casually take a man into my bed. You are only the second one, you know.” The hard edge drained from her voice, and for a moment she looked sad. “I would have been content if Nathan had been the only one. He would have been the only one, if not for the Old Man and that damned urvaalg.” 
    “I would have spent the rest of my life with Aelia,” said Ridmark. To his annoyance, his voice caught a bit over her name, and he forced himself back to calm. “I was a knight of Andomhaim and a Swordbearer. I never thought there would be anyone else, or that my life might have any other purpose. And now…”
    Her thin fingers closed around his hand. “Now there is. Now we seek to stop the return of the Frostborn, and you have someone