The Warrior's wager: A Celtic Romance Novel (Warriors of Eriu Book 2)

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The Warrior's wager: A Celtic Romance Novel (Warriors of Eriu Book 2) Page 28

by Mia Pride


  Tuathal stepped forward with a wide grin to address his people. “Today is a special occasion!” His voice, naturally commanding, carried easily over the crowd. “Today, two of my warriors are wedding two special lassies.”

  Two? Alastar crinkled his brow and looked at Àdhamh and the druid. Who else was getting married? Àdhamh smiled widely and the druid stood straight-faced as he listened to King Tuathal speak. The crowd, the druid, even Àdhamh… none of them seemed surprised by Tuathal’s announcement. Even Elwynna beamed at the words. Had he spent so much time in bed with Aislin the last few days that he had not been keeping up properly with the village gossip?

  He heard a hound bark from behind, and spun on his heels in confusion. He knew that bark. But why was Branwen out here with Aislin? Branwen never went anywhere without her master. Then he saw her.

  Like a goddess from the Otherworld, Aislin glided toward him with confidence and grace. Her waves of red hair were loose with small yellow roses pinned in a circle around her head, like drops of sunshine in her hair. A matching soft yellow dress fit over her body, highlighting every curve, especially the curve of their child nestled safely in her womb. She was the most beautiful woman in the entire world, and his heart stuttered in his chest as her piercing green eyes landed on him, and her plump pink lips formed a mischievous smirk.

  Everyone began to murmur as she approached but for Alastar, everything else faded away. All that existed was him and this woman. She approached him with a sly smile on her face and he shook his head, wondering if he was in some sort of dream.

  “Are you ready?”

  Crinkling his brow, he shook his head in confusion. “Ready for what?”

  “Our wedding, of course.” Aislin put her hands up and waved them around, directing his gaze to the smiling crowd, her own mother in the front dabbing her tears with a linen square.

  Their wedding? How could that be? He had just seen Elwynna walk up to Àdhamh and the druid. Turning to look at them over his shoulder, he saw Àdhamh wink as Elwynna nodded excitedly.

  “I do not understand. ‘Tis their wedding.”

  “Aye. ‘Tis their wedding as well. We are having a double wedding… and you are close to ruining it if you do not take my hand and walk me up to the druid,” she pouted playfully, putting a hand on his faded blue tunic. “I feared you would be wearing this tunic again,” she sighed. “Are you ready to get married in your rags?”

  “I told you. ‘Tis my favorite tunic.” Without a second thought, he pulled Aislin against him tightly, dipping her low and slashing his lips across hers, letting all his shock and excitement flow from him to her. How she had pulled this off, he had no idea, but gods he loved her for it. He loved her for her strength of conviction, for the ferocity with which she loved, and right now, he loved her for loving him enough to prove it right here, right now, in front of everyone they knew.

  Losing track of time as he continued to ply her with his kiss, the crowd began to hoot and holler behind them, clearly enjoying the show. Yet, none of this was for them. This kiss was all for Lin. His sweet Lin.

  Allowing her to come up for breath, he saw the blush on her cheeks and the red of her lips from his possessive kiss. He could not wait to get her alone that night. He would kiss her again, just like that, all over her body.

  Taking her by the hand, he tugged her excitedly to stand in front of the druid. Looking to his right, he saw Àdhamh and Elwynna. What a strange situation. He had almost lost Aislin because of his relationship with Elwynna and now, somehow, the two women had grown quite close and had conspired to plan his wedding. He was not sure how it all came together after all his struggles, but he was anxious to say his vows to Aislin, call her wife, and drag her home to his bed.

  Looking down at his beautiful woman, his heart was glowing with pride and he felt as if he may float away at any moment. Only, he hoped she was truly all right sharing their wedding day with others. As much as he did not wish to wait, he would do so if it meant Aislin had the wedding she wanted.

  “Are you certain about this?” he whispered carefully in her ear.

  Looking up at him, she smiled and grabbed his hand. “I am more than certain. I care not how we wed, so long as we do so immediately.”

  Alastar agreed whole-heartedly. With a nod to the druid, he smiled and stood in front of his entire tuath, ready to marry the only woman he would ever love for the rest of his life.

  ‘Twas a fine thing he had worn his favorite tunic on this day. And like his wife, he would cherish it forever.

  Epilogue

  Two Moons Later

  “I will not tell you again, Alastar.” Lying in bed, Aislin sighed and looked at her husband warily, then back down at their new son.

  “Tell me once more, mo chroí. I must hear it. Say you shall never leave me.”

  “One day, I may leave you. But that day is not today.” As Alastar’s face turned ashen and his mouth dropped open, Aislin laughed and pushed his lips back together with her thumb and forefinger. “Listen to me, love. I will say it once more. I am hale. I am not dying. I am a strong woman and I have birthed you a strong lad. The blood loss is normal… and I told you to leave when my waters broke. I knew you could not handle it.”

  “I would never have left you while you birthed our babe, Lin.”

  “Nay, you have proven that. Och! When you climbed behind me on the bed and molded your body to mine, I thought you had gone mad.”

  “I had gone mad. I was mad with worry for you. Are you certain you are well?”

  Their son made a soft cooing sound just as he awoke from sleep and instantly began to wail, searching for a breast to suckle. With a soft murmur of reassurance, Aislin cradled their wee son into the crook of her arm and watched in awe as he instinctively took hold of her nipple, making satisfied gulping sounds. “Aye, I am more than well, husband. I am a wife and a mother. Two roles I once thought I would never want. Now I cannot imagine the loss of either of them.”

  “You shall never lose us. I will protect wee Conor with my life, and I swear to never leave you.”

  Aislin looked up at Alastar’s face and saw the raw truth in his words. He was a large man and strong warrior, but his heart was soft and his devotion was unwavering.

  “My thanks for naming our son after my brother,” Alastar added, giving their lad a soft kiss on the crown of his red head.

  It had been several hours since her waters had broken while she and Alastar walked around the village with Branwen at their heels. The pains had come on hard and fast, causing her to clench and scream out at the unexpected onslaught. Branwen had gone into protective mode over her mistress, running circles around Aislin and snarling at anyone, except Alastar, who dared get close to her.

  Fortunately, Flynn had been close by and, having heard her roars of pain, followed by the water puddling on the earth beneath her feet, fled quickly to Maggie’s home to alert her of Aislin’s impending labor, followed by an announcement to their family.

  Within what must have only been moments, her entire family surrounded her as Alastar carefully carried her home. Labor had not been without its scares. After several hours of intense cramping pains causing her to scream and sweat profusely, Conor finally began to crown, only his head would not pass.

  Maggie and her mother informed her that her babe was upside down, but that meant nothing to Aislin, who was drowning in a pain so fierce, it had threatened to tear her in two. When Alastar launched himself onto the bed behind Aislin, grabbing her knees and shoved them almost painfully up into her rib cage, she had cursed him in the most creative ways for having planted his seed in her and thus causing her such pain. He had sworn to never plant his seed again, but even in the moment, she knew it was a lie. If the man had his way, he would plant his seed again within months and, gods help her, she would wish for nothing more, even knowing what pain she would surely face.

  After another few hours of endless pushing and a many tears, screams, and curses, Conor came into the world with a
wail loud enough to wake the dead. Then, all the blood came. Gushes of blood that she could not see, nor did she care to see as the most beautiful lad with her bright red hair and his papa’s big blue eyes was placed on her heaving chest, skin on skin. The bond was immediate, powerful, and life-altering. Never again would Aislin be the same.

  Though she heard Alastar’s worried voice and pleading words, her mother’s carefully steadied commands and Maggie’s whispers about the blood, Aislin knew she would survive. No force on earth was going to tear her away from the new life she had just brought into this world.

  Conor was quickly cleaned and swaddled, all while Alastar continued to lie behind her. Soon exhaustion took hold and she fell asleep, knowing her son was safe and she would be of no use without some rest.

  When she awoke, her mother and Maggie had gone, the blood had been cleaned up completely, and Alastar sat on the stool near their bed while cradling wee Conor in his arms, a concerned look on his face.

  When she asked him why he looked so worried, he began to cry and begged her not to die. She had been bewildered by his sudden outburst and assured him she would not die, but apparently his fear was much too deep to simply vanish with her constant reassurances, and he continued to ask her every several minutes if she was hale. For love of the man, she calmly told him repeatedly that she was well, and would not die on him. Only time would soothe his nerves, she supposed, but his concern for her, while unneccessary, was endearing and she loved him for it.

  “He is a dear lad,” she whispered as she ran her fingers through his soft tuft of red hair. “I cannot believe we created a wee human.”

  “’Tis an unbelievable feeling,” Alastar agreed and joined her in awe of their son as he stroked their child’s head. “He is perfect, just like his mother.” Conor sighed as he detached from Aislin’s breast, milk dripping down the side of his mouth.

  “I am far from perfect. Only, somehow you see past all my flaws and love me, regardless.”

  “To me, you are perfect, and I shall tell you so every day of your life… as long as you tell me one more time that you are hale.”

  “I am hale.”

  “You relent much easier these days, wife.”

  “’Tis because I have learned that being stubborn, where you are concerned, only causes more problems. Best to give in to your ridiculous whims and be done with it.”

  “In that case…” Alastar looked down at her engorged breasts and back up to her face. “May I taste your milk?”

  Aislin swatted him carefully without jostling Conor and smirked. “Mayhap one day soon, but not now. I am concerned I am not making enough and wish to save all I have for him.”

  Alastar feigned disappointment, but then his eyes grew wide and a huge grin spread across his face at her promise.

  “I shall keep that thought in the back of my mind. For now, I wish to lie here with my son and wife, and ponder how I became so fortunate.”

  She scooted over carefully, wincing at the pain below, but trying her best to hide it so Alastar would not worry. Her heart thrummed with so much love, it actually ached. How had she ever thought to live without so many blessings? Aye, she would still hunt with her bow, climb mountains with Branwen by her side, and roam freely, but she would do it with these two lads by her side. Life was so much better than she had ever hoped, and all because Alastar refused to give up on her. He refused to give up on most things, it seemed.

  “One more time, Lin,” he whispered as he climbed into bed next to her, draping his left arm over her shoulder.

  “Aye, Alastar. I am well,” she sighed. And she truly was.

  Author’s note

  Thank you so much for reading “The Warrior’s Wager”! I just love Aislin and Alastar! They are so stubborn, yet cannot seem to live without one another. I knew they were meant to be from the start and dreamed of this book for so long. Aislin happens to be one of my favorite characters. She is a true Celtic woman, full of pride, determination, and spirit. They were both in need of saving, even if they did not know it! Alastar has always been the aloof “rogue” of the group, so I was excited to finally tell his story and show the depth he truly owned. We all know that one person who has lived through so much pain, yet carries on with light and laughter, never allowing their scars to show. That is Alastar, and I hope he is as endearing to you as he is to me.

  I hope you picked up on some subtle hints about who my next couple will be in the new Warriors of Ériu book: Flynn and Maggie! It’s in the works now and writing about two very quiet characters is much different than writing about two very loud and stubborn characters! But it is fun in a different way, and I cannot wait to share that story with you.

  In “The Warrior’s Wager”, tensions between Tuathal and Mal are growing, as they truly did during these years in early Irish history. Little is known about Mal Mac Rochride, so I have taken the liberty of creating his daughter, Elwynna, and some background history for him. What we do know is that he and Tuathal waged a series of wars against one another during the late first century and early second century.

  Ráth Mór was a real Hillfort that Tuathal and his wife had built after he took the High Thone. It was their stronghold and held many people from all over Ireland, helping to create a stronger foundation. In these days, small tuatha (or tribes) were still scattered all over (Ériu) Ireland and each had their own king, or chieftain who ultimately answered to the High King. Unrest was common and in a land where cattle were more valuable than much else, lots of raids occurred, as did full battles over power.

  I have been asked why I call Ireland, Ériu, in my stories. I love this question! Ériu is actually the name of one of the original three goddesses of the Tuatha de Danann (the same goddesses who Ceara, Gwynneth, and Una are created after in my Sisters of Danu series). During a legendary battle that is said to take place over 3000 years ago, the land was named after the goddesses Ériu, Fodla, and Banba. However, Ériu is the name that became most commonly used, which eventually developed into “Eire”, the modern English version of Ériu. Eire then became Ireland, as we know it today. During the first century, Ireland was still very isolated and though they had trade with nearby places such as Alba (Scotland) and Albion (England) they spoke only Gaelic and had no written language, so it is likely the land was still simply called Ériu to its inhabitants.

  I really enjoy including as much Irish history into my stories as I can, even if it is obscure or mostly lost to time without any written documentation. Early Irish history was solely verbal, which gives it that mythical element that I love. Faeries and magic were just as commonplace to the early Irish Celts as science is to us, today.

  The story of Tuathal and Mal will intensify dramatically in Flynn and Maggie’s story, so stay tuned to keep up with the Warriors of Ériu. Their book will be out in early Spring 2018!

  About Mia

  Mia is a full-time wife and mother of two rowdy boys, residing in the SF Bay Area. As a child, she often wrote stories about fantastic places or magical things, always preferring to live in a world where the line between reality and fantasy didn’t exist.

  In High school she entered writing contests and had some stories published in small newspapers or school magazines. As life continued, so did her love of writing. So one day, she decided to end her cake decorating business, pull out her laptop and fulfill her dream of writing and publishing novels. And she did.

  When Mia isn’t writing books or chasing her sweaty children around a park, she loves to drink coffee by the gallon, get lost in a good book, hike with her family and drink really big margaritas with her friends! Her happy place is the Renaissance Faire, where you can find her at the joust, rooting for the shirtless highlander in a kilt.

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[email protected]

  Acknowledgements

  It takes so many people to help me write a book. My husband, who picks up the extra slack while I am meeting a deadline, my kids who are literally the reason I do everything I do, My editors Liz and Bethannee who always take such caution and care when reading my books, and all my readers who keep me at it! I appreciate you all very much!!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Author’s note

  About Mia

  Acknowledgements

 

 

 


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