The thrill that passed through him was nothing he could control; Magnus had to remind himself that there was no sin in feeling desire, only in giving in to it. "'Tis not seemly for a lady to entertain a gentleman other than her husband."

"Mine husband is off to the wars," she said instantly, "or to attend upon his suzerain at a conference of lords, regarding their rights in opposition to the Crown, which must surely be much the same as a battle-and will detain him for some weeks yet."

"What knight is this?" Magnus demanded. "Tell me thy husband's name." He could feel himself slipping, and hoped that personifying the man might make him lose interest in the wife.

She frowned, realizing the gambit; but protocol, and regard for her own status, prohibited a refusal to answer. "He is Sir Spenser Dole, and I grow lonely in his absence."

"Then thou art fortunate in having so many brave servitors to accompany thee." Knowing the man's name didn't lessen the tide of hot blood flowing through Magnus's veins, but it did explain the situation-Sir Spenser Dole was a knight advanced in middle age, fifty in a world to which sixty was ancient, and the young woman had no doubt been married to him against her will, in accordance with custom and her father's wishes, cementing an alliance between two knights, or perhaps even their lords.

Magnus bowed again and turned away, determined to have nothing to do with the lady, nor with her invitation. "Be easy, knight." Her touch was featherlight on his arm, but sent the current coursing through him again, and he stopped in spite of his good intentions. "I do not seek to turn thee from a course of honor, but only to give rest and comfort to a valiant warrior who, I doubt not, hath ridden long and is both a-hungered and weary." She moved around to his side, far enough that he couldn't help but see her, her eyes wide and imploring. "Nay, wilt thou leave me lorn?"

He knew he should have-but the lady was very beautiful, and Magnus's pulse was pounding in his ears, and what harm was there in sharing a breakfast with her? "The Mass," he protested, in a last feeble defense-but he had the door open, and could hear the priest chanting the Lavabo.

"The Book has been moved," the lady said with a lazy smile, lips full and moist. "The mass is half-spent, and thou must needs come again to the church at another time. Thou hast done as well as thou might, to honor holiness on the day of rest-but travellers have ever great difficulty in finding a priest, and thou art surely to suffer no blame if thou hast not had a Mass."

"Half a Mass is better than none......"

"Not to the Church, who would have thee come again if thou dost come too late."

Which was true; coming in after the Credo meant that his Sunday obligation was not fulfilled.

"Rest thee, then," she said softly, smiling almost proudly. "Come away to my castle, and find repose and refreshment." The church door slipped from nerveless fingers; he turned away from the chapel, following the sway of her hips, and telling himself there was no harm in light conversation.

Sir Spenser's castle was tall, but not large-scarcely more than a curtain wall surrounding a square keep, perhaps fifty feet on a side. This was no nobleman's wife, but a country knight's. Still, Magnus reminded himself, Dole was a good man, and deserved no slur on his honor.

The lady did not take them in over the drawbridge, however, but around to the narrow plank bridge that ended at the postern gate. Magnus knew, right there, that he should turn and go, but the lady's voluptuous figure swayed before him, and he told himself that he would stay just long enough for polite conversation, then leave. After all, she could scarcely invite him openly to her bed in front of her husband's servants.

But there were no gardeners in sight, nor grooms, as he passed through the postern. He told himself that they were only gone to church, and followed the lady through the door to the keep, resolving firmly to turn on his heel if he didn't see any servants inside.

But he didn't-see any servants, and didn't turn on his heel-because, as soon as they were through the door, the lady turned and pressed up against him even as he stepped forward, molding the curves of her body to his, parted lips seeking his mouth with an urgency that took him completely by surprise, and his body responded automatically. He yielded to temptation and the deepening of the kiss, putting his arms around her and pressing her hips against his own.

Then he realized what he was doing, remembered that this was another man's wife, and broke off in alarm.

She laughed with triumph, low in her throat. "So, then. Thou art not so godly as all that, art thou?"

Wrong choice of words; it reawakened Magnus's conscience. He stepped back, releasing her. "Nay, then, thou hast the right of it-I should be in church, even as thou sayest. I thank thee for thine hospitality. . . ." He was turning back toward the door, when she scoffed, "What, a Sunday man? Art thou then so afeard of Hell that thou wouldst turn from heavenly pleasures?"

She was, Magnus thought as he turned, highly overrating herself-but when he looked at her again, eyes bright, face flushed, bosom heaving, he wasn't so sure. Still, he tried his best to affect a frosty demeanor. "Thou hast a husband, lady, and I a duty to chivalry." This time, he did manage to turn around.

But her voice was all contrition, demure and shamed. "Nay, then, thou hast the right of it to scold me so. Have no fear-I'll be a seemly matron. Yet thou must needs permit that I make amends. Come to mine hall, and taste some wine to refresh thee."

Magnus hesitated, his hand near the latch.

"Wilt thou make me feel to be a thing of evil?" she pleaded. "Nay, turn, and have the grace to let me do my penance."

Magnus relented and turned back. "Why, I cry thy mercy, lady, and will gladly taste thy wine, for I am parched."

She gave him a tremulous smile of gratitude and turned away, leading him into the keep, and Magnus followed, relieved that the situation was no longer compromising, but wary still.

His wariness increased as she led him up the spiral staircase, but not so much-the great hall was, after all, for public occasions, and it wasn't terribly surprising that a single guest would be entertained in the solar.

They came out into a gallery, and the lady, no longer swaying, but still with a movement that Magnus found enchanting, led him to the door at the end. She opened it, and they came into a small chamber filled with sunlight from three tall windows in its outer wall. Magnus was surprised-he would have expected the solar to be larger, even in so small a castle as this-but it was well appointed, a carpet on the floor and tapestries on the walls, with an hourglass-shaped chair, a scroll-carved bench, and a small table.

The lady took a flask and glass from the silver tray on the table, gave the goblet to Magnus, and filled it with wine. "Recline thee, sir, and tell me-whence hast thou come, and whither goest?"

He found it unnerving that she did not ask his name, but perhaps it was wise, under the circumstances. He sat on the bench, the chair being behind the table. "I wander without purpose, lady, to see what may be found in Gramarye."

"Dost thou seek wrongs to right, and damsels in distress?"

"I have found the first, but not the last," Magnus admitted, "though, to tell truly, I know not what I seek."

"Wilt thou not taste of my wine?" she pleaded.

Magnus tipped the goblet against his lips, looked up, and nodded. "'Tis sweet, milady, and full. I thank thee."

"I would thou couldst thank me for more," she said ruefully. "What hath set thee to thy travels, then?"

Magnus took a long swallow of wine to give him time to mull over the answer. He couldn't exactly tell tales outside the family, after all, "A yearning to see more than I have known in my youth, I would have to say-and a yearning to be away from the folk of my childhood for a space." Which was true enough-but Magnus had travelled throughout the Isle of Gramarye as he grew, and knew most of it fairly well; the broader vistas he longed for were not to be found on his home planet.