The King's Warrior (Pict King Series Book 2)

by Donna Fletcher

  Normally Wrath would enjoy watching the little man squirm, since he could be annoying at times, but the meeting had gone on long enough and there were still things that needed to be discussed between him and the King.

  “I have someone to propose for the position,” Wrath said and he never saw Gelhard look so relieved.

  “Who is that?” King Talon asked and turned to Gelhard. “Do not think we are done.”

  Gelhard wisely gave the King a respectful nod and remained silent.

  “One of your personal guard, Broc. He is not only a fine warrior, but he has proven to have excellent leadership skills. I believe he would do well as Warrior Commander.”

  All seemed to agree and King Talon said he would think on it. He dismissed all but Gelhard and Wrath.

  Gelhard went to speak and the King stopped him. “Not a word, Gelhard, until I am ready to speak with you. And if you continue to speak foolishly and continue to fail in finding me a wife, your seat on the High Council will be in jeopardy.”

  Again Gelhard wisely held his tongue.

  “What of this woman?” King Talon demanded of Wrath. “Has she brought a plague among us?”

  “Verity brings no sickness to us. She has had attacks like the one she suffered today for some time. They cause no harm to others.”

  “That is good to hear. Have you learned anything else about her?”

  “She fears the Northmen may come for her and her sister.”

  “The Northmen would not dare do something so foolish,” Gelhard said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  “Unless there is more to this woman’s story than she tells us—in which case—we need to be prepared,” the King said.

  Wrath saw how Gelhard turned his full attention on the King, prepared to attend to whatever was necessary. The man could annoy, but there was no denying that he was an excellent High Counselor to the King.

  “Bring Broc to me, Gelhard. I will appoint him temporarily to the position of Warrior Commander and if he does well, he will be made a permanent member of the High Council.”

  “As you say, my King,” Gelhard said with a quick bow of his head and hastily left the room.

  “What do you think this woman keeps from us?” the King asked, stretching himself out of his chair.

  It was easy to see why Talon was King. He was not only brave and wise beyond reason. There was a strong, fluidness to his movements that set him apart from others and commanded attention and respect. And the slight lift of his chin gave the appearance of superiority, leaving no doubt he was a man to be obeyed.

  Wrath went to stand, for no one sat when the King stood.

  “Sit, Wrath, it is only you and me.”

  Wrath favored when they talked as friends. He remained as he was and watched Talon pace as he always did when his thoughts turned busy. After a few moments, he said, “To stir the ire of the Northmen enough to come after her, I would think it would be something dire.”

  King Talon stopped pacing. “What if she is not a Pict? What if she is a woman of the Northmen Tribe who grew tired of her husband?”

  Wrath had never given such an idea thought and it annoyed him to think it now, though why he did not know. Verity was no different from other women he had protected when necessary, except he had never found the others as appealing as he did Verity.

  “Or what if she took something of importance from the Northmen?” the King said, voicing his thoughts aloud.

  “Then it was lost to the raging sea, since I stripped her bare and found nothing.” That was not quite true. He had found pale, unmarred beauty that surprisingly had aroused him and damn if the memory did not stir him now.

  “You need to find her sister and see what you learn from her.”

  “Verity says that her sister lives mostly in her thoughts and is slow to respond.”

  “A slow-minded one. No wonder Verity is protective of her and if the Northmen treated her sister badly, it would be a good reason for her to take her elsewhere. If they are Pict, they will have a home here, if not?” The King shrugged, then shook his head. “There is something we fail to see, something this woman does not want us to see. The question is why?” He glared at Wrath. “I will not be left vulnerable in the face of the Northmen or find myself at war with them for no good reason. Find out the truth.”

  “I will see to it, Talon.”

  King Talon walked over to Wrath and sat on the bench beside him. “I can trust you to be honest with me and tell what is being said about me outside these walls.”

  Wrath expected the question and never had he spoken falsely to his friend. “There is talk that you are not potent enough to be King and it is encouraged by your enemies. Two wives that produced no bairns and now one carrying her new husband’s child, leaves doubt to your ability to produce sons that can carry on Pict rule. Many believe you a powerful warrior and can win endless battles, but they are beginning to doubt that you can make sure that Pict blood will run in those who forever claim this land.”

  King Talon brought his fist down on the table, his deep blue eyes wild with anger. “I will have sons, many sons, and they will spread across this land and leave not only their mark upon it but their blood will run through it as well. Pict blood will always run in those who rule this land.”

  Another reason that Talon was King was that he spoke with such intense power that you believed every word he said. There was no reason to doubt him, his words made it so.

  “Has Gelhard found you a suitable wife yet?”

  “There is a woman he believes would make a good queen. He is seeing to the arrangement.”

  “Her mother has bred many sons?” Wrath asked.

  “From what I am told six.”

  “That is impressive. I am sure all will go well.” Wrath hoped it would. Talon had fought hard for his people and sacrificed even more. He was a powerful ruler and most never got to see what a truly good and honest man he was.

  Gelhard tried to hurry around Broc as the large warrior rushed into the room before him. “You will wait until you are—”

  “Forgive me, my King, I mean no disrespect, but there is a matter that requires Wrath’s immediate attention.”

  “You may speak,” the King said.

  Broc turned to Wrath. “The woman has left your dwelling and made her way through the village to the gate. She has just left the stronghold.”

  Wrath was glad the King sprang to his feet, allowing him to do the same.

  “Who follows her?” Wrath demanded.

  “I did until Gelhard told me the King had summoned me. After that, I had Tarnis follow her.”

  “Both of you go,” the King ordered. “Broc, you will see me when this is settled.”

  Wrath and Broc sent respectful nods to the King before hurrying out of the High Council Chambers.

  Wrath was glad he had ordered Broc to watch his dwelling. He had not wanted to take a chance that worry for her sister would have Verity slipping off to search for her. And his concern had proven valid.

  “It was not long after you left that she did,” Broc explained. “With the stronghold unfamiliar to her and not calling attention to herself by asking someone the way to the gate, she took a few wrong turns. She was at the gate when Gelhard approached me.”

  “How did Gelhard respond to you telling him you would not go with him until he brought Tarnis to you?” Wrath knew his men well. Broc would never have left his post without someone to replace him even if summoned by the King.

  “He did not have much choice, since I hurried through the gate after the woman.”

  “You left a trail for Tarnis.”

  “As he will do for us,” Broc said as they stepped outside the gate and saw a deep, long rut in the snow.

  ~~~

  Verity stopped and looked around the snow-covered woods and shivered. She wished it was planting time and the sun was bright and the breeze cool. Their escape would have been far less treacherous, but she and Hemera had had no choice. Her present effort
s to find Hemera had proven useless and after searching for what seemed like forever and the sky growing grayer, she knew she should return to the stronghold, but she was not ready to do that yet.

  In her worry for Hemera, she had made a foolish decision. She should have trusted her vision. It had been clear enough. She and Hemera had been safe with Wrath. She had had no vision of finding Hemera on her own, so why had she taken such a foolish chance?

  The Northmen.

  The vision of the Northmen coming for them had frightened her. Had she feared them arriving at the stronghold before she and Wrath could search for Hemera? Had she feared the possibility of the King surrendering her to the Northmen?

  She rubbed her head. It ached with far too many troublesome thoughts. From her visions, she had thought she could trust Wrath, but was she deciphering her visions wrong? She wished she never had visions.

  “Are you finally finished going around in circles?”

  Verity sighed before raising her head. She had hoped to return before Wrath found her gone. “Is that what I have been doing?”

  She saw that Wrath was not alone. Two good-sized warriors stood to either side of him. He spoke to each of them, though she could not hear what he said, and they left. He approached Verity and she fought the tickle of apprehension that ran through her as he drew closer. His powerful form and dark garments and hair made him appear more potent against the stark white snow.

  “Do you need reminding that I am no fool?” he asked, stopping close in front of her. “I watched how you purposely went round and round, covering every inch of the same ground and snowdrifts. You thought your sister may have met the same fate as you and worried she was out here freezing to death.”

  He was more observant than she thought. She would have to be careful. “I could not help but see for myself.”

  “If you had come to me you would have saved yourself worry. I had already sent men out to cover the surrounding area in hopes that your sister would be found nearby.”

  She sighed with relief, though she would have preferred to smile since his actions had confirmed what her visions had shown her. He would help and protect her and Hemera. “I thought you would think me foolish?”

  “Why would I think you foolish? I understand that you worry for your sister’s safety and your thought was a wise one.”

  “Truly?”

  “I never speak falsely.”

  His strong tone alone spoke the truth of his words and she felt guilt nudge her in the side. She should speak as honestly with him as he did with her. But she feared what it might bring.

  He took sudden hold of her chin. “You were to rest. You will not disregard my word. You will not leave the stronghold without my permission. You will do as I say.”

  It was easy for her to say, “As you wish.” She had said it often enough through the years, until the words meant nothing to her. They were said to appease those in authority and she would continue to say them until she finally got what she had wished for all these years... her complete freedom.

  Chapter Six

  “Get up!”

  Verity bolted up, her eyes going wide, all sleep gone as she stared at Wrath, anger filling his dark eyes. It had been two days since her arrival here, the snow having prevented them from starting their search for Hemera and though she continued to remain at Wrath’s dwelling, they no longer shared his sleeping pallet. She assumed he had found a more welcoming pallet to share.

  “Word has come that a Northmen’s ship has reached our shore and its leader has requested to meet with King Talon.”

  Verity found herself unable to respond. She feared this would happen. Her vision had warned her of it, but she had not expected it so soon. She startled when Wrath was suddenly in front of her and she eased back away from him. It did little good. He leaned in closer until she found herself with her back pressed against the wall.

  She struggled for words and as she did, she saw that there was not only anger in his dark eyes but concern. It also gathered in the deep wrinkles of his brow, the fine lines that fanned out at the corner of his eyes, and the grimace set at his mouth. Was his deep concern meant for her?

  “What is it you fear telling me?”

  Fear. He was right about that. She feared him—anyone—learning the truth. She had no words for him, so she kept her lips closed tight.

  “How do I protect you, if I do not know what it is I protect you from?” He moved away from her, turning his back on her.

  Verity spoke softly, saying what came to her. “I am unimportant.”

  Wrath turned abruptly. “The Northmen think otherwise.” He motioned her off the pallet with a quick snap of his hand. “Come, the King commands your presence.”

  “I can tell him no more than what I have told you,” she said, her insides roiling with the thought of facing the mighty Pict King.

  “We will see,” Wrath said and motioned again for her to hurry.

  “The snow has stopped,” Verity said when they left the dwelling. “We can leave and begin the search for Hemera.”

  “That was the plan until news came of the Northmen.” He did not like that he heard concern in his voice, but the news had brought much worry. The Northmen would not come to retrieve slaves they had taken from this land. They would come to claim what was rightfully theirs and that had Wrath concerned and angry. If Verity would just be honest with him, he could help her. Or was that why she was not being honest with him? Did she believe he could not help her?

  “We cannot delay our search any longer. We must leave today,” Verity insisted.

  “We will not be leaving until this matter with the Northmen is settled to the King’s liking.”

  Verity stopped abruptly. “Are you telling me that we must wait until the King meets with the Northmen before we take our leave?”

  “If the King so commands it. Now hurry, the King is not a patient man.”

  She resumed her steps. She had come to understand that few men were patient, most cared little for anything beyond themselves, some were dangerous and were to be avoided and a very small handful respected and cherished women. She believed the King was the dangerous kind that should be avoided. She had yet to decide which best suited Wrath.

  The closer they got to the feasting house, the more her insides twisted into knot after knot after knot. It was not only speaking with the King that caused such alarm, it was worry that she would be forced to stay here until the Northmen’s arrival. That was not possible. She would have to take her leave on her own if necessary.

  They entered the feasting house and Verity saw that the King was speaking with some of his warriors. She caught a word or two and realized final plans were being discussed for Atas’ departure today. She was relieved to know Atas was being sent away rather than lose her head.

  Verity watched King Talon with apprehension. He frightened her, though it was more his endless power that frightened her. One command and he could end a person’s life or make him suffer unbelievable pain. She had seen such power before and the greed that went along with it.

  The warriors turned and left after a respectful nod to their King. It was her turn to face the King and she worried her legs were too weak to take another step. She felt Wrath’s hand low at her back, urging her to step forward, and she did, though without his subtle urging, she would have remained rooted to where she had stood.

  She stopped abruptly a distance away from King Talon, her feet refusing to take her any closer and no amount of urging from Wrath would change that.

  “Come closer,” the King ordered annoyed.

  Wrath waited for her to obey the King and when she did not move and did not respond to his gentle nudges, he took her arm and forced her forward.

  “Why do you fear me? And I will have no lies from your tongue,” King Talon warned when Wrath brought her to a stop in front of him.

  Verity knew well enough to answer the King without hesitation. “I have seen men of your worth do horrible things to people.”
>
  “I only do horrible things to people if they deserve it. Do you deserve it?”

  The strength in his voice alone had her leaning back and she almost sighed aloud when her back met Wrath’s chest. “I do not believe so.”

  “Then you have nothing to fear. Now tell me why the Northmen wish to meet with me.”

  A chill lingered in the room, though the large fire pit burned brightly and yet the King wore a sleeveless garment, long that it was and slit from throat to ankles and cinched at the waist with a belt. His arms were not thick with fat, but lean and hard and his fingers long. He could easily snap a man’s neck.

  She shook her head, realizing she was taking too long to answer. “I do not know.” She hoped her lie could not be seen on her face. Sometimes she was good at hiding the truth and her feelings. Other times she failed completely as she had with Wrath. She hoped she would not fail with the King.

  “That does not seem likely,” the King said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Perhaps you should think on your answer.”

  “My sister and I were slaves to Haggard, Chieftain of the Southern Region. He does not like losing what belongs to him.” It was a partial truth and she hoped it showed.

  “You are Pict.”

  Verity understood the King wanted her to confirm it, and she nodded. “Aye, my King, I was born a Pict.”

  “I do not take lies lightly. If I find out you lied to me, you will suffer for it.”

  She had suffered so much already what difference would more suffering make? “I speak the truth.” And she did, just not all of it.

  “It will take time for the Northmen to arrive here. Until they do, you will remain here. I will send a troop of warriors to search for your sister. You will...”

  His words drifted away as she felt darkness begin to take hold of her. Not now. Not in front of the King again. But nothing would stop the vision once it took hold and she had no choice but to surrender to it.

  The King stepped forward just as Wrath caught Verity in his arms. He had felt her body wilt beside him and was relieved he had been there to catch her. He lifted her in his arms. Her face was pale, her eyes closed, and her body so limp one would think that death had claimed her. The thought twisted his insides.