Stark nodded. He rode behind her, thinking that he liked the sound of his name on her lips.
The Lady Berild lay among her furs and cushions, and even then there was no indolence about her. She was relaxed as a cat is, perfectly at ease and yet vibrant with life. In the shadows of the litter her skin showed silver-white and her loosened hair was a sweet darkness.
"Are you stubborn, wild man?" she asked. "Or do you find me distasteful?"
He had not realized before how rich and soft her voice was. He looked down at the magnificent supple length of her, and said,
"I find you most damnably attractive—and that's why I'm stubborn."
"Afraid?"
"I'm taking Kynon's pay. Should I take his woman also?"
She laughed, half scornfully. "Kynon's ambitions leave no room for me. We have an agreement, because a king must have a queen—and he finds my counsel useful. You see, I am ambitious, too! Apart from that, there is nothing."
Stark looked at her, trying to read her smoke-grey eyes in the gloom. "And Delgaun?"