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

by Donna Fletcher

  He had to do something or it would burst lose and she would be renouncing their marriage here and now. That thought only fueled his fury.

  “Look at me, wife,” he ordered.

  Verity turned her head, not because of his abrupt order, but because of the fierceness that rumbled in his voice.

  He lowered his face closer to hers. “I forbid you to renounce our marriage.”

  A warning signaled in her not to argue, but she paid it no heed. “You cannot—”

  “I can and I did.”

  “I will speak—”

  “Of it no more,” he finished.

  But she was not finished. All the years she had not been able to speak up for herself had her fighting back. “I will do—”

  “What I command.”

  “No!” she cried out, not giving him anymore words to steal from her, but having her say.

  He glared at her.

  “I will not stay where I am not wanted.”

  “I want you.”

  The heated intensity of his short response sent tingles rushing over her flesh and raising bumps along it while sending endless flutters to her insides.

  “I can see the aching want in your eyes for me and feel the shiver of desire in your body. Until we settle this unrelenting need between us, you will stay my wife.”

  Verity chose not to respond, it would do no good. There was only one way to make him understand how she felt and that was to couple with him.

  ~~~

  Whispers circled the camp that night, Verity catching a word here or there. By the time she pieced them together, she realized the men were in awe of Wrath and how he had fearlessly followed after her and returned from a place few if any ever did. To them there was no doubt as to why Wrath was the leader of the King’s personal guard. They would repeat the tale often to anyone who would listen and Wrath would one day find himself a legend.

  How was it that she found herself caring for such a man? She looked over to where he stood talking with Tilden. There was no denying he was a powerful warrior, his strength showing in his every movement. And he not only served the King faithfully, but he was also a friend to Talon long before he took the throne.

  She turned her eyes away when Wrath approached her in slow strides. She kept her attention on the campfire that roared in front of her and the bread she nibbled on, not feeling at all hungry, but knowing it was wise to feed her body when possible.

  She did not look at Wrath when he sat beside her, though her body enjoyed his warmth when he leaned against her.

  “You are angry with me,” he said.

  “I am displeased,” she admitted.

  “The truth is not meant to hurt, though it often does hurt to hear.”

  She turned to look at him. “The truth also hurts when one must admit it.”

  “I will not argue with you,” Wrath said sharply.

  “There is no point; the truth will make itself known no matter what either one of us want.”

  Why that should disturb him, he did not know and he refused to respond to it. He wanted nothing more than to wrap himself around his wife and sleep. He almost laughed at his own lies. He wanted to wrap himself around his wife, but he did not want to sleep. But here and now was not the time and place for them to join.

  “What are the Imray like?” Verity asked.

  Wrath was glad to speak of something else and settled comfortably next to her as he answered, “The Imray Tribe was formed after the battles to unify the tribes. The tribe is composed of people whose tribes no longer existed after the battles finally ended. Having survived the hardships and losses of the war and with no tribe to return home to, King Talon brought all those people together. They became one tribe and to show their unity, they wear an intricate body drawing down their right arms. It signifies their loyalty to one another while their other body drawings tell of their original origin so their tribes will never be forgotten. They have always been loyal to the King since he saw those punished who decimated their tribes.”

  “The King has truly united the people of this land,” Verity said.

  “It was the only way to defeat foreign invaders. If Talon had not stepped forward and convinced the tribes to fight together, this land would no longer be ours. We would live under foreign rule and eventually our people would be no more.”

  “So you worry for the Imray with what has recently gone on?”

  Wrath smiled. “I worry more for the people who would foolishly attack them. Having lost their tribes, they are extremely protective of what they have built together. Anyone who would dare attack them would find out too late that it had been an unwise decision. They also keep close watch on all that goes on around them, never again wanting to be vulnerable to an enemy.”

  “So they may tell you something you do not know and they would know if Hemera passed their way.”

  Wrath nodded. “They are a watchful people who can tell us much.”

  Verity yawned and as if it was the most natural thing for her to do, she laid her head on Wrath’s shoulder. He in turn slipped his arm around her, but then it had been the way of things between them of late.

  They retired soon after with little more said between them. Verity did not object when Wrath wrapped himself around her, she was glad for it. He not only kept her warm, but she felt safe in his arms. She had not felt safe since the Northmen had taken her and Hemera from their home.

  Sleep claimed her quickly and dawn came just as quickly, and they were soon on their way again. It was a dismal day, gray clouds continuing to hover overhead and it remained cold, though not as cold as it had been, allowing for some of the snow to melt.

  Imray warriors greeted them along the trail, pleased to see it was Wrath.

  “It is good to see you again, Alard,” Wrath said, “I hope all is well with you and your people.”

  “All is good, Wrath,” the young warrior, short and burly with a thatch of red hair, said and nodded at Verity. “Someone you found along the way.”

  “My wife, Verity,” Wrath said with such strength that it was almost as if he decreed it an edict, never allowing it to be changed.

  Alard smiled, shaking his head. “Minn is not going to like that.”

  “It is done and cannot be undone,” Wrath said.

  Verity was surprised to hear him say that since it was not the truth.

  “Minn is going to like that even less.” Alard laughed. “I will ride ahead and see that things are made ready for your arrival.” He laughed again. “And keep Minn calm.”

  When he rode away, Verity asked, “Who is Minn?”

  “A friend of Alard’s.”

  Verity tugged at Wrath’s chin to force him to look at her and she ignored the flare of annoyance in his eyes when they met hers. She intended on getting an answer. “And?”

  “Minn does not matter.”

  “Then why not answer me?”

  He gave a quick turn of his head, her fingers falling off his chin.

  If he thought his silence would discourage her from saying anymore, he was wrong. “If you refuse to discuss it, I will ask Minn.”

  That had his head turning quickly her way. “Minn has a temper and can be territorial.”

  “I appreciate the warning, though what reason could she have for turning her temper on me?” Verity asked, smiling.

  “Minn and I have much in common and that brought us together on several occasions.”

  “You mated,” Verity clarified and wondered why it should annoy her.

  “I have mated with many women.”

  That annoyed her even more. “And I am sure you pleased each and every one of them so much they would be only too glad to mate with you again or as with Minn be territorial and lay claim to you.”

  “That bothers you,” he said with a slight smile.

  “Mate with whoever you like, it matters not to me,” she said annoyed that she had allowed her feelings to show.

  He grabbed her chin, lifting it to plant a strong kis
s on her lips. “We are wed and I will not disrespect that and couple with another woman. You and I will mate.” He kissed her again. “Be careful around Minn. She is a formidable woman and a fierce warrior.”

  A fierce warrior.

  Verity had no chance against a fierce warrior. She had no fighting or weapon skills. She had not been allowed to defend herself. The Northmen would have beaten her if she raised a hand against them. She should know; she had tried. She had learned what she could from watching others, but she had wished she could have learned more.

  The village came into view and it was larger than she had thought. There were many dwellings and a large feasting hall. It appeared as if the whole village had come out to greet the King’s warriors and from the way the warriors were bear-hugged and slapped on the back, it was obvious they all knew one another.

  Verity smiled at the joyous scene, standing beside Wrath as his horse was led away by a young lad.

  “You finally stopped coddling our King and have come to visit,” a deep voice shouted out.

  Verity stumbled as she hurried to step away from the large hulk of a man barreling down on Wrath. His long, dark hair was braided in thick braids at the sides of his head and he had fine features even though he bore some scars on his face. He was not as tall as Wrath but he was much wider than him. She thought for sure he would plow Wrath to the ground, rushing at him with such fierceness.

  She smiled, relieved, when Wrath did not budge as he locked with the large man nor did he flinch when pounded on the back.

  “Dalmeny,” Wrath said, taking a step back. “It is good to see you, my friend.”

  “It has been too long,” Dalmeny said. “There is much we have to catch up on and I want to hear how the King fares.”

  Wrath heard what Dalmeny did not say but implied. I have things to tell you, later in private. He let it be, though was eager to hear what news the man had.

  Dalmeny glanced past Wrath to Verity. “Is this your wife that Alard is telling everyone about?”

  Wrath held his hand out to Verity and she took it, stepping forward to stand beside him.

  “A strong wind would blow her away and her hair blinds the eyes,” screeched a woman.

  Verity turned to see a tall woman, thick, though solid and shapely in body with a sword hanging at her side. Her long dark hair was braided on one side of her head and her one arm that was left exposed was covered with an intricate drawing from shoulder to wrist. She had sharp features that caught the eye as did her powerful strides that brought her to Verity and Wrath.

  Wrath stepped partially in front of his wife.

  “This weak woman will never serve the mighty Wrath well.”

  Verity watched her stop in front of Wrath. She was nearly as tall as Wrath and her muscles as plentiful and defined as his. Wrath had been right. Minn was a formidable woman and no match for Verity.

  What Minn did next stunned and angered Verity. She kissed Wrath.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Wrath did not stop Minn from kissing him, but he did not return her kiss and when she finished she stepped away from him, scowling. He leaned toward her and her scowl quickly turned to a smile since it appeared as if Wrath intended to kiss her. But he stopped a distance from her lips and spoke in a tone that allowed only those close to them to hear.

  “Speak ill against my wife again and I will see you suffer for it. Verity is a good wife. I could ask for none better. She pleases me more than any woman I have known and I will not see her disrespected.”

  Minn glared at him and kept firm rein on her anger as she said, “Forgive me, I meant no ill will toward your wife.”

  “That is good to hear, Minn, for it would please me if you would befriend her.”

  Minn’s glare deepened. “As you wish, Wrath.”

  Dalmeny stepped forward. “Come and let us celebrate your visit with food and drink.”

  Wrath turned and held his hand out to Verity and she took it, sliming, and walked alongside her husband to the feasting hall. She heard Minn follow behind them, her footfalls heavy along with her anger.

  Food and drink were plentiful as was talk and laughter, though Verity felt no part of it. These were people who knew one another well. They had fought beside one another in battle and they would again if necessary. And though she was a Pict like them, she had been gone too long from her homeland to join in the fellowship they shared. She sometimes wondered if she would ever feel at home here again.

  She looked to Wrath laughing along with Dalmeny. They shared tale after tale as did the others at the surrounding tables. They all were more than friends. They were family. They were one—they were Picts.

  “What markings do you wear?” Minn asked as she slipped onto the bench beside Verity.

  “I have earned none yet,” Verity said and wondered if she ever would.

  “Why have you yet to earn them?”

  Verity could not help but admire Minn and she could see why the woman would make Wrath a good wife. Beautiful. Strong. A fearless warrior. Familiar with Wrath in ways she had yet to be. She was all that Verity was not.

  “You are of age where you should have many,” Minn continued before Verity could answer, her smile much too smug.

  “Her markings will be my choice.”

  Verity turned to her husband, surprised and annoyed at his response. She thought him too busy with his own conversation to pay heed to hers. As for her markings? She had had enough of decisions being made for her. What markings she got would be of her own choosing.

  Minn persisted. “What of her tribe? Do her people not want her to carry their drawings proudly.”

  “Enough, Minn!” Dalmeny ordered sharply. “Wrath owes you no explanations.”

  “Maybe,” Minn said with a shrug, “but what about her tribe—”

  Dalmeny brought his meaty fist down on the table. “Enough, I said!”

  The room turned silent and Minn stood abruptly and sent the leader a harsh look that Verity thought would surely sting the man before she marched out of the feasting hall.

  “She is one of my best warriors and most vexing one,” he said to Wrath. “I had hoped you would wed her and relieve me of the burden.”

  Verity knew his words were not meant for her ears, but she heard them anyway, and she listened for Wrath’s response.

  “Minn was aware I never planned to wed, but Verity changed all that.”

  If only that was true, but she had not changed it. The king had decreed it and Verity felt the weight of his lie.

  “A woman stole you away, stole your heart, and had you doing something you swore you never would... wed. I would say that gives Minn plenty to be angry about.” He gave a hardy chuckle. “I would be careful if I were you.”

  “She can direct her anger at me all she wants, but I will not tolerate her doing anything to my wife,” Wrath warned.

  Dalmeny ceased his chuckle. “I will speak to her again.”

  “More firmly this time,” Wrath ordered.

  Dalmeny nodded. “I will see to it, and now we should talk. A dwelling has been provided for you. I can have one of the women take Verity there.”

  “One of my warriors will go with them,” Wrath said.

  Dalmeny summoned one of the women, sitting at a nearby table and when he slipped his arm around her wide hips and smiled up at her, Wrath knew it was the woman he was presently mating with. He had yet to commit to one woman, much like Wrath had, and Wrath wondered if he ever would.

  With a flick of his hand, Wrath summoned Tilden, then turned to his wife as the warrior approached the table. “You will go to the dwelling and wait there for me to join you.”

  Verity was only too glad to comply. She had had enough of the celebration that had turned out to be anything but one. She nodded and went to stand, but Wrath gripped her arm, forcing her to remain seated. He leaned in close and she thought he meant to whisper to her. Instead, he kissed her lips lightly.

  “Are you all right?” he asked for her ears
alone.

  His concerned and comforting kiss softened her annoyance. “I am fine.”

  Wrath kept his voice low. “I want you more than fine.”

  Verity was not sure how to interpret that, but her body seemed to and a slight blush turned her cheeks pink.

  He kissed her again and whispered, “Later,” before turning to Tilden and ordering him to see Verity safely to their dwelling.

  Verity went with Tilden, looking back at her husband as they neared the door and seeing that he and Dalmeny were moving to a more secluded spot in the feasting hall. A catch to her insides had her hand rushing to press against her middle. For some reason, parting from him disturbed her and as if he felt her unease he turned and looked at her, sending her a nod that she was certain was meant to reassure her.

  She bundled her cloak around her against the cold, not sure if it had turned colder or if her shiver had come from something else.

  “Warmth and blankets await you at the dwelling that has been prepared,” the woman who walked beside her said. “I can also bring a hot brew for you, if you would like.”

  Verity had not realized the woman was there, she had been so absorbed in how she was feeling. “I am grateful for your generosity. The food and drink have been so plentiful I have need of no more.”

  The woman smiled. “I am pleased to hear that. I am Amada. If there is anything you should need, please let me know.”

  Amada and Tilden left her on her own after Tilden looked inside and around the outside of the dwelling and Amada stoked the fire and spread one of the two blankets over the raised sleeping pallet.

  The dwelling was similar to all the other ones she had been in, a sleeping pallet, a small table and two benches, and a fire pit in the middle of the room. She sat on the bed, thoughts of Hemera coming to her. She had heard Wrath ask Dalmeny if a young woman had passed through the village. She had been disappointed to hear him say that if a woman had entered their village, he would not have allowed her to continue on her own with snow so fresh and abundant on the ground.

  Upon hearing that, it seemed to add to the belief that Hemera had found her way into a Wyse village. Verity still was not sure if she should be relieved or worried about that. Wrath kept telling her to trust her visions, for they showed Hemera and her together again.