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

by Donna Fletcher

  Verity was pleased that she no longer saw anger in his eyes or that his body felt taut. She had always feared anyone finding out the truth, mostly because what it might mean for her. She wondered then what it would mean for her with Wrath now knowing the truth.

  “The King must be told of this before anyone else learns of it,” Wrath said.

  It would continue to remain a secret for now and that was fine with Verity. She preferred it that way. She wished the King did not have to know about it, for she worried what he might do.

  “You nibble at your lip, what worries you?” Wrath asked, running his finger along the side of her face gently to lift her chin slightly.

  “What will the King do when he learns of it?”

  “Knowing the King the way I do, he will probably want to see how helpful your ability can be to the Picts on a whole. He wants what is good for the Picts. He wants a powerful Pict nation that will battle and be victorious against foreign invaders. He wants Pict blood to run strong in this land long after we are all gone.”

  “Then I will serve the King if my visions prove helpful to him?”

  “We all serve the King, though you will not be held captive if that is what you think.”

  At least he had showed no signs of fearing her, but he had also made no mention of her remaining his wife, and she did not wish to ask, not now.

  Wrath watched her nibble lightly along her lip again. “Have you told me everything?”

  “Everything there is for me to tell,” she said too fearful to say more.

  “You will share your visions with me from now on... all of them.”

  She did not know if she was comfortable sharing all her visions with him.

  “By doing so, perhaps I can help you make sense of them.”

  He wished to help her. She was surprised and pleased that he would help her. No one but Hemera had ever helped her and her instincts had her giving him a quick kiss before saying, “That is kind of you.”

  “I am not kind,” he said gruffly.

  “To me you are,” she said softly and laid her head on his shoulder.

  To his surprise, her tender response aroused him. Or was it holding her close in his arms that was what stirred him? Or was it that he was depriving himself from mating with his wife and his body was protesting? He swore beneath his breath. Never had thoughts of a woman troubled him so much. He had no time for such nonsense. He was commander of the King’s personal guard and that came before all else.

  Then why was Verity more in his thoughts than the King?

  “We will continue to search for Hemera?” she asked.

  “She will be found.”

  The strength of his words renewed her hope.

  He asked her more about the Northmen, wanting to know as much as he could since a potential battle was brewing. She told him all she knew.

  “I have lived with the Northmen for so long that I fear I lost who I truly am... a Pict.”

  “Never would that happen. You were born of this land. You are and always will be a Pict. No one can take that from you.”

  “When I woke that day on the shore cold and trembling, all I could think of was that I was finally home.”

  “And here, home, is where you will stay,” he said, hugging her close and thinking it was where she belonged, home in his arms.

  ~~~

  They came upon another aged dwelling, though this one still provided some shelter and Wrath ordered camp to be set for the night.

  “The roof may have holes, but it will shelter us well enough,” Wrath said to Verity after helping her off the horse. “A fire will soon be started, sit and warm yourself while all is seen to.”

  Verity was not used to being idle or having others do for her. While Wrath went to see to the warriors, she went to the dwelling. An open door greeted her and she slipped around it to enter the small room. The fire pit was still intact and snow had found its way in through the holes in the roof. Part of a wall had crumbled, but there was enough left of the dwelling to provide good shelter from the cold for the night as would Wrath’s arms.

  She was growing much too accustomed to being with him, but she had felt that upon first meeting him. But it had not been the first time she had met him. She had first met him in her visions. More and more she was coming to believe that she had begun to care for him before she had met him outside her visions? Her feelings for him had not grown fast upon meeting. They had grown gradually with each vision she had had of him.

  That was why now, with her feelings so strong for him, that it pained her to think of ever being separated from him. Her hand went to her chest as a slight gasp escaped at the thought of not being with him.

  “Verity!”

  She turned to see him drop the broken branches in his arms and hurry to scoop her up.

  “A vision?” he asked, holding her tightly.

  She shook her head, the concern in his eyes, and the way he attempted to rescue her even from a vision brought a smile to her face and lightened her heart.

  “Something startled you?”

  She was about to say an animal, not wanting him to know her thought, but could not bring herself to lie to him this time. “You.”

  His brow narrowed for a moment, then he smiled. “How did I do that?”

  “You are forever in my thoughts.”

  “And what are those thoughts?”

  She rested her brow to his. “Thoughts I should not be having.”

  He brought his mouth to cover hers in a gentle kiss. “I have the same thoughts.”

  A soft laugh fell from her lips. “You have made that clear.”

  His smile vanished. “We will mate.” His smiled returned as suddenly as it had vanished. “I have seen it in a vision.”

  She laughed again. “Tell me of this vision.”

  “With pleasure,” he said his smile increasing. “You stood in front of me naked, your body so beautiful I could not resist touching you. And once I felt your soft, smooth skin, I could not keep my hands off you. I cupped your breasts and let them rest in my hand, as my fingers teased your nipples hard. I left your sensitive nipples hungry for more as my hands itched to explore you further, gliding down over the gentle curve of your hips and over your middle.” He paused and pressed a kiss high on her cheek, near her ear, then whispered. “My fingers eagerly sought the thatch of golden hair between your legs and searched for that little nub that enjoys being touched and teased and by then you were moaning with desire and begging me to satisfy you.” His warm breath tickled her ear. “And I did. First, my fingers brought you pleasure, then my tongue, the delicious taste of you grew me harder as did your loud cries. I made you wait no longer, I scooped you up and laid you on our sleeping pallet, spread your legs and—”

  “Stop!” Verity said, pressing her finger to his mouth. His words had been as clear as a vision in her head and she had not only seen but had felt every bit of what he had described to her. And now her body was aching for him.

  He moved his lips away from her finger and gently took one in his mouth to suck on until a soft moan escaped her lips. He drew his mouth slowly off her finger, his teeth lightly scraping along and sucking the tip before releasing it. “I cannot wait to take your nipple in my mouth and do the—”

  Once again her finger pressed firmly against his lips. “You must stop.” She moved her finger away quickly before he could slip it into his mouth again.

  “We will mate. Nothing will stop that.”

  “Not here,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Your choice. I am yours whenever you want me.” He lowered her to her feet and brought her hand up to kiss her palm. “Whenever or wherever you want, wife.”

  Verity stepped away from him and turned and left the dwelling, afraid she would surrender to him there and then. Once outside, she hurried around the dwelling where no one could see her and took great gulps of air. She scooped up a handful of snow and rubbed it across her heated brow.

  She feared she would
not have the strength to deny him or herself and she worried that once they mated, she would not want to leave him. She would want to remain his wife.

  But would he want the same?

  Chapter Fifteen

  The sun tried to break through the stubborn clouds the next morn as the small troop continued on their journey. Neither Wrath nor Verity had many words to share after last night.

  Sleeping had not come easy for Verity, though she had pretended to be asleep when Wrath had entered the dwelling. She had been grateful for the cold, since they had kept their garments on to sleep. Otherwise, she feared her own actions if they had lain together naked.

  He no soon as joined her on the sleeping pallet that had been made from brush and pine branches for them, then he wrapped himself around her, tucking her close against him. If he had known she pretended to sleep, he made no mention of it. He simply kept her tight against him, his arm around her, his leg over her two, and it had not been long before his warmth began to seep into her.

  She had wondered if sleep would elude him as it had her, but only moments later, she heard a light snore next to her ear. He had fallen asleep without a problem. Naturally, it gave her pause to think that he was certainly not burdened with thoughts of her. After more thoughts and several yawns warning her that she needed sleep, she realized that there had been nothing to keep him awake. He was certain they would join and would wait for her to realize the same.

  Sleep had finally won against her nagging thoughts and she slept until the cold woke her. She had turned to cuddle closer to Wrath.

  “Are you warm enough?”

  Her musings of the previous night drifted away and she returned to the present moment. “Your arms always keep me warm.”

  “And they always will.”

  She wished that was so, and though he did sound as if he decreed it, she had grown aware that it was simply his way of speaking.

  “Does any of the land look familiar to you?”

  Verity looked around, annoyed that she had been so lost in her thoughts that she had paid no heed to her surroundings, and she should have been more vigil. She was disappointed when she had to admit, “No, I see nothing here from my vision.”

  “It will not be long before we reach the Ancrum Tribe. We will take a different route on our return home so we may cover a different area.”

  Verity voiced a sudden thought, she hoped might prove true. “Perhaps Hemera took shelter among the Ancrum.”

  “She could have taken shelter with any number of tribes along the way. Do you think she would have remained with a tribe or would she more likely have searched for you as desperately as you do for her?”

  “Hemera would think on what to do before deciding. She is not one to rush into a decision, so she could very well have remained with a tribe until then.”

  “Does she share your features and your golden hair?”

  “No, we are different. Her hair blazes like the setting sun when heat warms the land and it cannot be tamed or contained in a braid like mine. And she seeks solitude more than she does people.”

  “Could she survive on her own as you did before I found you?”

  “I would not have survived if you had not found me in that snowdrift.”

  “The snowstorm caught me and my warriors unaware as well.”

  “That is my greatest fear that the snowstorm swallowed up Hemera.”

  “Perhaps someone found her, and took her to their tribe, as I did you,” Wrath said.

  Worry creased Verity’s brow. “I can only hope.”

  Wrath’s attention was caught by the return of the warrior who rode ahead, scouting the area. He signaled the troop to stop and waited.

  The warrior came to a halt in front of Wrath. “Ancrum warriors approach.”

  Wrath gave another signal and two warriors rode off to the side, disappearing into the woods. The warrior who brought the news also disappeared into the woods.

  He gave Verity a quick glance, then turned his attention to the distance as he spoke. “You will say nothing.”

  “You will ask about Hemera?”

  “When I feel the time is right.”

  “Something worries you about the Ancrum Tribe?” she asked.

  “Until I know for sure that rogue Ancrum warriors were responsible for the attack on the Raban and not the Ancrum themselves, I will remain suspicious.”

  Two of the King’s warriors moved up to take a stance on either side of Wrath and Verity. The remaining five fanned out behind them. That the warriors protected them went without question.

  Verity pulled her hood down until it almost covered her eyes and waited in silence.

  Ten warriors rode toward them at a brisk pace, but Wrath held his ground. He did not move, nor did a muscle in his body. If the Ancrum intended to intimidate, they had failed with Wrath—not so her, a trickle of fear ran through her. These warriors could somehow be involved with Ulric and that could prove dangerous for her and Hemera. Her worry mounted when the troop finally stopped in front of them.

  “Wrath, what brings you to the Ancrum Tribe?” the lead warrior asked.

  “I have word for Egot from the King, Vard,” Wrath said his eyes steady on the warrior. He was a good size, his middle thick, though not tight, but he had strength. He wore his dark hair cropped short and his face was pleasant enough, though his nose was crooked.

  “Egot will be pleased to greet you.” Vard smiled. “And who is the woman who rides with you?”

  “My wife, not that it is any of your concern.”

  Vard threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing through the forest. “The mighty Wrath has wed. She must be a very special woman.”

  Verity pushed her hood back and broke her silence. “I am special; I am Wrath’s woman.”

  Her words surprised Wrath. She had claimed before all, that she belonged to him. She had also failed to obey him, though he could not fault her words.

  “Egot will certainly wish to offer his blessings for a fruitful union and provide food and drink for you as well. Follow us,” Vard said.

  As they traveled along, Verity noticed that the three warriors who had parted from them had yet to join them. Curious, she whispered, “Where are the others?”

  Wrath kept his voice low. “They will remain at a distance. Should something happen they will ride and inform the King.”

  It did not take long for them to reach the village. It was larger than Verity expected and well-tended. A rather large feasting house sat in the middle and that was where Vard stopped.

  Wrath reached up and grabbed Verity by the waist to lift her off the horse after he had dismounted. “You will stay close unless I say otherwise.”

  She nodded and remained at his side as they followed Vard into the feasting house.

  Warmth and a delicious scent greeted them as did a man solid and large in body that Vard had gone and stood next to. His hair had been shorn from his head and was completely covered with drawings that also ran down the sides of his face and his neck. Unlike Vard’s and the other warriors, who had only a single band of thorns around their upper arms. He also had good features.

  “It is good to see you, old friend,” Egot said, his large hand closing completely around the vessel he raised. “I hear blessings are in order for you and your new wife.”

  “I am grateful for your good wishes, but I have an important matter to discuss with you,” Wrath said.

  “First food and drink, then we talk,” Egot said with a smile and waved them to the long table where he sat. “Your wife can join the women.” Egot nodded to a table in the corner.

  Verity tugged on Wrath’s hand before he could protest, knowing he would. He was not a man to follow dictate lightly or to let her from his side.

  Wrath wondered why she bowed her head to him, then he heard her whisper.

  “I may learn something from the women.”

  He almost objected, but stopped himself. She was right. Women talked easily among themselves and mos
t men did not realize they saw much more of what men did not want them to see or believed they saw.

  He gave her hand a squeeze before she turned to go and she smiled softly to let him know she would be fine. She walked to the table, wondering why the Ancrum Tribe followed the Northmen’s rule that women ate separately from men. It had not been that way at the Raban Tribe or at the King’s feasting house. She supposed all Pict tribes followed their own established traditions.

  Wrath was given a seat next to Egot.

  “Eat and drink your fill,” Egot said, “then tell me how you found such a beautiful wife.”

  “I plucked her out of a snowdrift,” Wrath said.

  Egot’s grin disappeared and he asked in a whisper, “You wed a snow creature?”

  “She got caught in a snowstorm on her way to Pictland. I was fortunate to find her.”

  “She is a fine looking woman, a bit thin, but fine looking. Feed her well and she will make a good wife.” He turned toward the women’s table. “Ethra, see that Wrath’s wife eats well.”

  “I know how to treat my guests, husband,” she yelled out. “See that you are no fool in front of yours.”

  Egot shook his head. “Why I care so much for that woman I do not know.”

  Wrath had to smile.

  They ate and drank until finally Egot said, “Why has the King sent you to me?”

  There were too many ears to hear to Wrath’s liking. “We need to speak privately.”

  “Come,” Egot said and led Wrath to a table in a corner embraced by such deep shadows that no one in the feasting hall could see them. Drink was placed on the table along with their vessels and the servants were ordered not to venture close. “Now tell me what has brought you here.”

  “The Raban Tribe has been attacked by five Ancrum warriors.”

  Egot glared at him. “That cannot be. You speak falsely.” His nostrils suddenly flared and his eyes narrowed. “You think I would betray King Talon?”

  “Five of your warriors did.”

  He shook his head. “I cannot believe it. My men are faithful to their tribe.”

  “Not the five I killed. There has been a rogue band of warriors from various tribes gathering together to unseat the King. We have caught and executed some, but not all. Have any of your warriors left your tribe or gone missing?”