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

by Donna Fletcher

  “Put her on the table while we talk,” the King said.

  Wrath was reluctant to let her go, but he had little choice. He did as the King ordered and gently placed her on a table and remained by it, worried she would wake frightened as she had done before when an attack struck her.

  “For the Northmen to have arrived on our shores so soon after Verity, I would say that they left not long after her and her sister. And if they gave chase that soon after, when the sea is most dangerous, I suspect that the two women harbor something valuable. I cannot see the Northmen coming after two slaves who have returned to their homeland unless they have done something so grievous that honor bounds the Northmen to seek immediate revenge.” The King looked at Verity, appearing as though she lay in dead repose. “That does not seem possible, since she is such a weak woman.”

  Wrath spoke up. “I believe Verity stronger than most women or she would not have been able to handle this infliction that has been forced upon her.”

  Verity drifted out of the darkness at the sound of Wrath’s voice, his words surprising her, though she did not move. She laid there and listened, letting the two men think she had yet to awake.

  “You sound as though you care for her,” the King said, “yet I heard that you have spent the last two nights with Simca. Do you turn to her to ease the ache you have for Verity?”

  “I do not ache for Verity,” Wrath snarled.

  “Then why does your temper spark at the mention of it?”

  “Need I remind you that you told me she is my responsibility and what I thought a simple problem, which could have been seen to quickly and easily, has now turned into something beyond what I ever thought possible?”

  “You can lead the group that will go in search for her sister. I will have someone else see to Verity.”

  “No, Verity stays with me,” Wrath said, trying not to let his anger show. He would not trust Verity’s safety to anyone.

  “Are you sure of that, my friend?” the King questioned. “The Northmen could not keep hold of her even when they tethered her, which means she may turn out to be far more than you can handle.”

  Wrath laughed. “There is not a woman alive that I cannot handle and I can assure you there will be no reason to tether Verity as Paine had to do with Anin.”

  “But would you tether her if necessary?”

  “I would do whatever was necessary to keep Pictland safe, my friend... my King.”

  King Talon’s hand came down on Wrath’s shoulder and gave it a strong squeeze. “Of that I have no doubt, my friend. Now take Verity to your dwelling, leave her to rest, and return here with Broc so that we can begin making plans for the Northmen’s arrival.”

  Verity moaned softly to make Wrath think she was just coming to. She let her eyes flutter, but did not open them and she whispered his name, “Wrath.”

  “I am here, Verity. You are safe.” He slipped his arms beneath her, lifting her to rest against his chest and cradled her firmly in his arms.

  She kept her eyes closed as he walked through the village, afraid if she opened them the tears that were building would spill forth. Hearing Wrath tell King Talon that he would do whatever was necessary to keep Pictland safe, even tether her as the Northmen had done, made her realize that she was not safe here. The Northmen would come and if necessary she would be returned to them. She could not chance that and her vision had warned her of it.

  Verity opened her eyes slowly when Wrath placed her on the sleeping pallet.

  He looked down at her. “You will rest and worry not. All will be well.”

  She nodded and pretended to yawn, then turned on her side to hide the tear that had fallen from the corner of her eye onto her cheek. She heard the door close and waited, fighting back the tears that wanted desperately to burst free.

  She refused to let them fall. She had no time for tears. She thought on her vision, knowing it would give her strength. She had heard Hemera calling out to her to hurry and she had been shown a path to take and just as she reached for the back of Hemera’s hood, a thick mist had begun to swirl around her and she woke up.

  With a rough swipe of her hand across her cheek, she rid herself of the single tear that had escaped. She sat up and hurried off the sleeping pallet. She fashioned one of the blankets to wear as a shawl beneath her cloak. She had had little to protect her against the relentless cold the last time. She would not let that happen again. Finding food had been another problem and she had yet to eat today, but she could not linger. She had to leave while it was light and get as far away from the stronghold before they found her gone.

  The one thought that worried her was that Wrath may be having her watched. If so, she would have to rid herself of the warrior. She made her way through the village, stopping now and again, pretending to look at something that caught her eye. After the third stop, she knew she was being followed. She made her way to the healer’s dwelling, wondering how she would be able to lose the shadow that trailed her.

  Bethia smiled, delighted to see her and Verity was grateful when she offered her food and drink. She accepted, not knowing when next she would eat.

  A young lad burst into the dwelling and interrupted their chatter, letting Bethia know that his mum had said to come quick that the bairn was on the way.

  “Stay and finish your brew,” Bethia said, gathering what she needed. After slipping on her cloak, she walked over to Verity and laid a hand on her shoulder. “You should go rest. You look tired. Leave your worries to Wrath. He will see to them.”

  And he would see to her if it meant placing Pictland in danger and she could not blame him. It was his home. She wished she had a home she could feel so strongly about.

  Verity tore a piece from the bread on the table and stuffed it in the folds of the blanket beneath her cloak. She did not like taking what was not hers, especially from someone who had been so kind to her, and she certainly would not take all of it. That would not be right. She would make the piece she took last for as long as she could.

  It was not long before she realized it would be impossible to rid herself of the warrior that followed her and she was annoyed her departure would be delayed. She made her way back to Wrath’s dwelling. As she reached the door, raised voices were heard and she turned to see that Atas had broken free from the warriors who were to escort her on her journey and was running wildly through the village. She passed nearby Verity and a warrior screamed to the warrior who had been following her to get the woman.

  Instinct had the warrior giving Verity a quick look, and seeing her at the open door to the dwelling, he ran after Atas.

  Verity blessed the spirits watching over her for this chance. With everyone’s attention on Atas, Verity was ignored as she hurried to the stronghold gate and slipped out without a problem. She worried that the snow-covered ground would make it easy for them to track her and she almost smiled when snow began to fall once again. Enough snow to cover her tracks would be perfect, though a raging snowstorm was another matter.

  She knew where to go. She had seen the path in her vision. It would take her to Hemera. Then this nightmare would be done... she hoped.

  ~~~

  The sky had darkened and snow was falling once again. It would delay the troop that was to leave earlier and begin their search for Verity’s sister. Atas’ antics had also caused her departure to be delayed. It would also delay the King’s response to the Northmen, which worked to the King’s advantage.

  All of that had been discussed at the meeting with King Talon. A message would go out to the Northmen when the snow calmed, granting permission for them to travel to Pictland and meet with the King. Messages would also be sent to various tribes to alert them to the Northmen’s presence on Pict soil and for other tribes to prepare for a show of strength. The King intended to let the Northmen know the might of the Picts.

  Wrath nodded to the warrior guarding his dwelling as he approached. Though slim and shorter than many of the other warriors, Tilden had proven stronge
r than most, taking down men twice his size. His strength was one of the reasons he had appointed Tilden to guard Verity.

  “Go. You are done here,” Wrath ordered, thinking Tilden might make a good replacement for Broc as one of the King’s personal guard.

  Tilden nodded and turned and walked away as Wrath shook the snow from his cloak and opened the door. He was eager to see how Verity was feeling. He stilled, taking in the room in one hasty glance to find Verity was nowhere to be seen. He turned and roared out Tilden’s name.

  The roar rippled through the village and some people hurried in their dwellings, knowing that the mighty Wrath’s temper had been unleashed.

  Tilden approached Wrath with caution.

  “Where is Verity?”

  Tilden appeared confused. “She is not inside?”

  “No! She is not.”

  The strength of Wrath’s angry voice forced Tilden to take a step back.

  Wrath felt his fury ready to erupt and he fought to control it. “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “Standing at your door as Atas ran wildly by us and...” Tilden shook his head. “She was about to enter the dwelling, and someone shouted at me to grab Atas.”

  “You left your post unsecure?” Wrath asked accusingly.

  Tilden raised his chin. “I did. I failed in my duty to watch over her.”

  “Come with me,” Wrath ordered sharply.

  Moments later they stood before the King, Broc present as well, having been given the temporary post of Master Commander over the Pict warriors.

  Wrath respected Tilden for admitting his failure, though it did not calm his temper.

  After listening to Tilden explain to the King what had happened, the King turned to Broc. “You are Master Commander, this is for you to handle. What will you do?”

  Broc did not hesitate. “I will have a troop ready to leave shortly to go find Verity and as for Tilden. He will spend three days in a prison chamber and then have two days of double duty. If he cannot survive it, he will no longer be one of the King’s elite warriors.”

  “I will survive it and prove I am not as foolish as I appear,” Tilden said.

  The King nodded approvingly. “See to it, though wait on readying a troop.”

  Wrath spoke as soon as he and the King were alone. “I will see to finding Verity.”

  “I thought as much since this is your failure as well.”

  Wrath’s eyes glowed with anger and his jaw tightened. He fisted his hands so tightly that you could hear the crack of bones. He never failed the King and that the King should accuse him of such, fired his fury.

  “Verity ran for a reason and if I was to guess at that reason, I would say she did not want to face the Northmen when they arrived here.” The King took a sharp step toward Wrath and while it would intimidate most men, it had no effect on Wrath. “Find her and the truth. I will not be made to look a fool in front of the Northmen.”

  “You have my word, my King. I will find her and get the truth from her no matter what it takes.”

  The King dismissed him with a firm nod.

  Wrath rushed off, gathered what he needed and was out the stronghold gates as the snow began to fall more heavily. It would not take long to find Verity. She was on foot and he rode a horse. He would find her and when he did... she would regret the day she ever set eyes on him.

  Chapter Seven

  “Two days,” Wrath snarled to himself. Two days and he still had not found Verity. He had been lucky to pick up her tracks shortly after he had left the stronghold, so at least he had some idea of what direction she was headed. The snow had slowed during the night and had stopped completely by first light. That had slowed him down considerably since he had to hunt to uncover any tracks she had left. Still, he thought he would have found her by now. Two days from the stronghold was a good bit of expanse for her to travel.

  The longer it took to find her, the more annoyed he had grown at himself. He had thought Verity a helpless woman, treated poorly by those who had taken her captive. Now, however, he wondered over her story that she was a slave and was she truly a Pict? Had everything she had told him been a lie? And if so, what had caused the mark around her neck? And the most disturbing question of all... what did the Northmen want with her?

  Wrath pushed the persistent questions aside. He would get no answers until he found Verity and even then he wondered what it would take to get the truth from her. He had to be careful, very careful, when he found her. King Talon had been right when he had suspected that Wrath cared for Verity. It had disturbed him to realize it himself. He had never worried over a woman like he did Verity. And he had never found himself drawn to a woman like he had been to Verity. It was why he had spent the nights with Simca. He had not trusted himself to sleep beside Verity, since he had found himself growing aroused around her far too often.

  He shook his head as though he could shake the disturbing thoughts away. He had to concentrate on tracking her and nothing else. He had allowed her to invade his thoughts far too often since meeting her and in ways he had never expected. He had a mission to accomplish and constant thoughts of Verity would not help him find her, and find her he would.

  His horse stopped and gave a snort and he cursed himself for having been so deep in thought that he had not paid heed to his surroundings and may have missed something. He thought to backtrack when something ahead caught his eye. It was too far away to be sure of what he was seeing, but it looked like a shelter of sorts. One built hastily of branches and brush.

  When he got closer, he dismounted and approached the structure cautiously, not wanting to alert anyone inside to his presence, though the crunch of snow from his heavy footfalls did not allow for that. With no movement from the shelter when he was finally upon it, he knew it must be empty.

  As soon as he pulled back a large branch, he saw that he was right. No one was there, but someone had been. He bent down and looked over the pine branches. The branches and pines themselves were not flattened, meaning a heavy person had not occupied this space and there was still some warmth to it.

  Wrath was quick to stand and cast a glance around. It had to be Verity who was here and she left recently, which meant she was not far off and there had to be tracks he could easily follow.

  He grinned. After stepping outside and searching around the dwelling, he came upon her footfalls. He would find her soon and finally get the truth from her.

  ~~~

  With clear skies and snow no longer falling, Verity worried that her tracks would eventually be discovered. She only hoped she would reach Hemera before then. She had had another vision last night. It was why she had slept much longer than she had planned. It had robbed her of what little strength she had left after plodding through the snow all day.

  The vision had pleased her and left her with some hope. Wherever Hemera was, she was safe and appeared content. While Verity hoped to reach Hemera and find safety with her, she was relieved to know that Hemera would be safe no matter what happened to her.

  She trudged through the snow, her legs burning from fighting the deep drifts, but she was determined to keep going.

  Verity turned her glance up at the clear sky, her brow scrunching. She thought she had heard distant thunder, but there was not a cloud to be seen. Her insides suddenly tightened and she turned and gasped.

  There in the distance headed her way rapidly was Wrath and though a good length separated them, she could see his anger in the intent way he rode his horse and, for a moment, Verity thought she saw his eyes glow red with fury.

  Instinct to survive took hold and Verity turned and ran, trying to avoid the deepest snow. Her chest pounded wildly, her legs screamed with pain, but she kept going and did not dare look back.

  She turned deeper into the woods, hoping the dense forest would slow him down and dared to take a quick glance back. He followed her, a bit slower, but he followed her. She turned and continued running, hoping that somehow she would escape him.

&
nbsp; “Stop, Verity!”

  She cringed as his strong voice echoed through the forest, wrapping around her as though catching her in his grasp.

  “Stop!”

  Verity ran faster, the snow not as deep in the dense part of the woods when suddenly up ahead she saw a drop off. She quickly slowed her pace and looked to see that the ledge ran as far as she could see to either side of her. There was no place for her to go. She could run off in a different direction into the woods, but he would easily follow her and wait until she grew too tired to run anymore. She was trapped... unless.

  She peered over the edge. It was more a slope than a steep drop and a stream ran along the bottom. He would not be able to follow her with his horse and she could find a place to climb back up further away from him.

  “Do not even think about it,” Wrath warned.

  Verity turned with a startled jump, hearing him so close. His eyes did not glare red, but they sparked with such anger that any moment she expected them to flame with fire.

  “I cannot go back with you.”

  “Because of the Northmen?” he snapped.

  “Because of many things. Please let me go—”

  “I cannot do that,” he said, not allowing her to continue. “You will return with me and you will tell me the truth.”

  “I am truly sorry, Wrath, but I can do neither.”

  He never heard his name spoken with such tenderness or heard such a heartfelt apology. She actually sounded as though she regretted her choice. Or was it a choice? She was doing what she must just as he was doing what had to be done. For a moment, he wished it did not have to be that way, but no matter what, he had to return her to the stronghold. The King commanded it and he would not fail his King.

  Wrath’s insides tightened when he watched Verity take a step back. Even if he dismounted quickly, he was still at a distance where he would not be able to stop her from going over the edge.

  His voice rolled with anger as he ordered, “Do not dare step off that edge, woman.”