Tanith stood up, preparing to defend Fiona. But before she could say anything, Kellach walked out of the crowd. Knowing Voadicia too well, and sensing trouble, Kellach had returned, overhearing her remark.
Casually, he moved to stand behind Fiona, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. “Do you wish to bless our joining, Voadicia? Or is there something else you want to say?” His voice was soft, belying the fire in his eyes.
Voadicia dropped her own eyes, willing to bide her time until the moment was ripe. Kellach was too powerful by far to risk a confrontation now, but her influence grew daily. Soon she would move against her opponents, Kellach among them.
“Enough has been said,” Briga stepped forward. “We are here to enjoy the celebration and wish you well. My apologies for Voadicia’s unkind remarks.”
Voadicia whirled on Briga. “Apologize for yourself, old woman,” she grated. “I do not grovel so easily.” She stormed away, pleased at having created the discord she wanted. This joining was a farce and Kellach would soon tire of wedded life and, when he did, she would make him beg before taking him back. Men always begged. He was no different.
A pall had fallen on the party and a great lump formed in Fiona’s chest. How silly she had been to believe that Kellach loved her. That he married her to give her clan status made perfect sense. She was intelligent enough to know her lot would be bettered by having status, and being Kellach’s wife elevated that status considerably. But Voadicia was right, she did want more than that.
Kellach watched Fiona’s face, too open by far. Angered by Voadicia’s unwelcome appearance and her spiteful attack on Fiona, he could only hope that the damage was minimal and could be repaired. He had been without Fiona’s comfort for long enough and he was not willing to forego it any further. Someday he silently vowed, Voadicia’s time would be at an end and he would be there to enjoy it.
Kellach stroked Fiona’s soft cheek, forcing her face to him. She would not look at him, eyes remained lowered. Whispering softly for her ears alone. “I joined with you for love—that is the only reason. I regret the bargain we made, but not the end result.”
Her eyes flashed to his, shimmering with hope. “Do you mean that?”
“Without doubt. I would not say it were it not true. She cannot abide the fact that you are more to me than she could ever be.”
The lump in her chest grew, not because of Voadicia’s words, but because of Kellach’s. Slowly her smile bloomed, her eyes dancing with delight. “You could have told me sooner, it would have made Voadicia’s attack easier to bear.”
“Mayhap I didn’t realize she would be so displeasing as to attend. I did not wish her here.”
“Me less than you,” Fiona grinned. “I didn’t hear her throwing nasty remarks at you.”
“She would find me a harder target. Her barbs would be wasted on me. I would not hear them.”
“Spoken like a true man,” Tanith laughed. The dark cloud left by Voadicia had lifted and the mood around the table grew merry again. The bards started up a lively tune and dancing, or what they called dancing, began. Kellach took Fiona’s hand and drew her out to the center. “I did not hear you return my love,” Kellach said somewhat uncertainly.
“Are you asking if I love you?”
Kellach brow creased. “I opened my heart to you. I would know your feelings as well.”
She threw herself at him, laughing at his consternation. “You have to know how I feel. I wouldn’t marry you just to gain status, unlike some women. Besides,” she whispered, “you have a great body!”
Uncomprehending her modern idiom, he agreed. “Yes, I am an uncommon tall man, but is this important to you?”
“Forget it,” she sighed. “I married you for love—not your height, you big dope!”
Kellach caught her in his arms, whirling her around and around, until her mind was spinning and she thought she would be sick. He set her down laughing and she staggered slightly, grabbing hold of his arm.
“That is for calling me a dope. I do not know what it is, but I suspect it is not good.”
“Depends on who says it,” she grinned. “In this instance, it is good.” She sobered, leaning close, whispering for his benefit only. “I fought my feelings because I thought I would be leaving, but I have loved you from the moment I first saw you.”
Kellach yawned and stretched mightily. “Is it not time for us to retire?” His brows waggled as he wickedly leered at her.
“It’s not even night yet—what would these people think if we left so early?”
“They would think you are very eager and I am a fortunate man.”
Fiona sputtered. “Me eager? It was your suggestion, not mine!”
“But I knew it was what you were thinking,” he commented, his expression smug.
“Well, I want to enjoy my wedding day a little while longer. You’ll just have to wait.”
“I have been waiting these past twelve days. I do not want to wait any longer.” His hands moved slowly down her back, seeking a response to his need.
Heat grew in Fiona’s belly, spreading like wildfire. A vision of Kellach’s naked form sprang into her mind, feeding the flame. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught, her hormones reacting.
“But if you would stay, that is what we will do,” he said, dropping his hands. “This day is for you.” Whirling and stomping, he boisterously joined in the dancing, dragging her along.
Wine flowed and huge quantities of food were consumed long into the evening. Fiona was impressed! These people really knew how to throw a party! Finally, everyone decided it was time to retire the happy couple.
The women escorted Fiona back to the dwelling, now back in post-wedding order by the toils of some unknown good souls. A warm fire crackled in the pit, and candles flickered on every wall, a perfect seduction scene. A large brass tub filled with scented water had been left for her use. The women helped her undress, bathed her, and then led her to the marriage bed to await Kellach. Good wishes and many blessings of a fertile and happy joining were bestowed and then the women left.
A riotous group of laughing, drunken men, led by Durlach and Siran, attempted to follow Kellach into the house, yelling ribald jokes and spewing lewd comments. Kellach shoved them out and forced the door closed amid howls of frustration and threats of retribution.
He turned from the door, his eyes meeting hers across the room, and then started slowly towards her. Fiona was reminded of a great cat stalking its intended prey. His eyes narrowed and his head lifted as though scenting the air. Clothes began flying in every direction and, by the time he reached the bed, none were left to shed. His manhood rose, hard and thrusting. Fiona was electrified by her reaction—every sense was awake and alert, every emotion triggered.
Kellach paused, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. She sat in the center of the bed, candlelight surrounding her in a burnished glow. Other than the silken bed linens, her long silver gilt hair was her only adornment, flowing loose and freely down her back. A few errant strands draped forward, modestly covering her and he was tempted to reach out and smooth them away, wanting nothing to come between them.
Her eyes glowed in the soft light, mysterious, and promising untold delights. Mesmerized, he watched as her tongue darted out, moistening her lips, leaving them glistening and slightly parted, waiting for his invasion. He felt no need to hurry, taking his time and savoring each moment. Pulling the bed clothes back, he eased down slowly, drawing her to him, her skin like fine silk beneath his fingers. He teased her with his lips while his hands explored and found remembered curves. Her breasts were full and wanting, the nipples peaking with desire.
The bed dipped slightly as he molded himself to her. Fiona gasped as she reached for him, a red haze of desire washing over her, wanting his dominance and yearning for his touch. Every nerve quivered as desire erupted, hot and melting. Her body ached, trembling with need. His mouth nibbled and tasted, lifting her further along the tide of sensual longing. His h
ands rubbed and stroked and his manhood, probing and demanding, pressed hard against her.
He rolled to his back, pulling her on top and watched with flaming eyes as she positioned herself. She gasped as he arched up, meeting her halfway, their bodies joining in a furious onslaught. He lunged against her, over and over, until with a gasping cry, she collapsed against him. But he was not done. His body was rock hard and he would make this moment last for hours.
Lifting up, he pushed her to the side, forcing her to her knees and plunged in again from behind, reaching around to massage her while he drove in, deeper. Her muscles contracted, milking him with every movement. Hardly had the first orgasm ended when the next began. Fiona’s face beguiled in the candlelight, evoking primitive cravings he did not know he possessed.
Kellach did not let her rest the entire night. He had denied himself her comfort for too long and a few short hours would not suffice. By the early hours of the morning, Fiona was sure she would die. No one had told her sex could kill, but if he continued, there would be no other result. Relaxed and totally replete, Kellach finally allowed her to sleep, molding her to his body, wrapped within his care.
Thirty-Two
Being married to Kellach was pure delight. A better companion and greater lover would be hard to find. The nights were bliss and she was learning that Kellach’s virility was an amazing thing. After pleasuring her most of the night, he was up and raring to go each morning. If anything, his vitality only increased. She on the other hand was finding it hard to work all day and then be up all night. But she wasn’t complaining, more like bragging.
Tanith’s pregnancy was very advanced and the babe would soon be born. Her health was not as good as Fiona would have liked, and only by constant threats was she able to convince Tanith to rest each afternoon for a short period. Siran worried about her and his unease transferred itself to Fiona. They took turns taking Tanith for daily walks around the settlement, forcing her to step away from daily activities and providing the kind of exercise she needed. Fiona kept Machar with her as much as she was able, and where Machar went, so did Conan. Ceara was also a frequent visitor and came each day to work with the herbs and to learn about healing. Xio Li’s gardening had ended but she had taken to helping with cleaning and cooking at Tanith’s. Life was busy but very good and Fiona was mostly content, only when she thought of her parents did she feel restless.
The weather had turned bitingly cold, the icy wind blew constantly. Except for short walks with Tanith, most of Fiona’s time was spent indoors, learning to card wool, weaving, making candles and doing other womanly chores. Her skill at carding and weaving left a lot to be desired, big lumps kept appearing in the thread and later on in the weave, but she kept at it, failure was not an option if she wanted her family to appear in public and not be ashamed.
On a cold and dismal day, Tanith’s labor began. Siran sent Machar for Fiona and, in turn, Fiona sent Kellach for Engai. She ran across the square, everything she needed was in her basket, collected earlier for the event. Tanith’s pains were coming steadily, but far apart and, on examination, her cervix was barely open. Hours later, the labor was still moving very slowly. Kellach had taken charge of Machar and Conan and promised to keep them occupied, fed and out of the way.
Siran remained, sitting by Tanith’s side, whispering words of encouragement and love, smoothing her hair and holding her hand, and aiding her in the only way he knew. By night, the pains were coming hard and fast and sweat dripped from Tanith’s brow as she labored. Fiona helped her with breathing exercises and worked to ease her pain by rubbing her back. Engai kept the fire burning, boiled water, and fixed quick meals for Siran. Nuala checked in from time to time, offering her help and lending her support.
In the early hours of the morning, the baby’s head had crowned and a few hard pushes later, a new baby boy came into the world. Reddish blonde hair capped his perfect little head, though his little face was pinched and his color was not good. His breathing was shallow and irregular, his movements weak. He was very small and appeared listless due to the stress of the birth. Worrying, Fiona contrived a makeshift incubator to keep him warm and Engai took over his care while Fiona finished up with Tanith. At Tanith’s insistence, the baby was wrapped in a warm cloth and placed in her arms, her face a study in total love. Siran turned away, fully aware that the baby’s hold on this life was tenuous and not wanting Tanith to know that he was worried.
Fiona finished cleaning up and took the baby from Tanith, sitting near the fire, keeping him warm. Having nothing else to do, Engai left to her own home.
“He is so small,” Tanith said, her voice sad. “So much smaller than Machar was.”
“Small babies can grow into very big men,” Fiona replied. “Look at Kellach.”
Tanith attempted to smile. “Kellach was not a small baby. My mother said he was a very large baby with a big head.”
“He still has a big head.”
Tanith hesitated, and then asked softly. “Do you think he will live?”
“He will if I have anything to do with it.”
For the next while, Fiona barely left Tanith’s and the baby’s side. The baby’s color improved and he seemed to grow stronger, his breathing improving daily. He fussed a lot and had trouble nursing and Tanith despaired that he wasn’t getting enough food. Fiona boiled goat’s milk and dripped it into his mouth, hoping to encourage him to nurse better. Finally, after about a week, Tanith was feeling better and the baby was improved enough that Fiona felt confident enough to leave Tanith to care for him. They named him Berach, the name of a strong warrior of old.
Fiona returned home. She sank into a chair exhausted, her back and feet aching. The strain of the last few days had put their mark on her. The lack of modern medical equipment and medicine frustrated her ability to care for the baby and she wondered whether her methods really had helped or the baby’s improvement was just nature taking its course. Aside from being physically and mentally worn out, she wasn’t feeling too well herself, thinking perhaps she had caught a flu bug or some other stomach disorder. The smell of food made her sick and she longed to lie down and hide, shutting the world out and sleeping for a week, but there was just too much to do and sleeping on the job just wasn’t going to cut it.
Kellach had proved himself a capable cook and although servants were readily available, he had taken control and a meal was prepared and waiting. Machar sat at the table, finishing his dinner and Kellach promised he could go home after he had eaten. Conan hid under the low table, gobbling the treats Machar managed to drop from time to time while Fiona sipped a cup of tea, enjoying being pampered. Machar finished up his food and raced to the door, Conan nipping at his heels.
“I am going to take Machar back, I will return shortly,” Kellach kissed her brow, noting her pallor and the dark circles under her eyes. “There is no need for you to do anything but rest. Xio Li has promised to come over later and clean up. Will you be well until I return?” His eyes expressed his concern, this had been a hard week on all of them, but she had shouldered most of the burden.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, catching his hand. “It is good to be in our home. I have missed you.”
“Not so much as me,” he replied. “I did not realize taking care of a four year old was so much work.”
She laughed softly. “It did you good to practice.”
The following days were a challenge just to get out of bed, her energy level was low and she was tired and irritable most of the time. On one cold morning, she jerked awake, barely making it to the chamber pot before she emptied her stomach. Definitely the flu, she thought.
“When will our babe arrive?” Kellach casually asked, his face betraying nothing. Shock held her motionless. Oh…my…God, she thought, I am pregnant! All the signs had been there but she was just too stupid to notice. How she had managed to ignore the obvious was amazing. What was that old saying? “Physician heal thyself,” or in this instance “physician diagnose thyself.” Down
she went again, over the chamber pot, heaving until she could heave no more. Kellach wiped her face with a cold rag and lifted her back into bed.
“How did you know?” she asked. “I didn’t even realize,” embarrassed that it took a man to point it out.
“You have not had your woman’s courses since we have been wed, and now with your tiredness and morning sickness, it was not hard to guess.” More embarrassment, he was keeping track of her periods even!
A lump formed in her throat. “So, how do you feel about it?”
“It was to be expected and I would want a son of my own.”
“What if it’s a girl? Girls do happen once in awhile, you know!”
He laughed. “That would be fine as well, as long as she looked like you.” His lips brushed hers.
She turned her head away, self-conscious. “I probably smell like vomit. I need to brush my teeth.”
He laughed, his face agreeing with her. “I have smelled worse, it will not kill me. Besides, if it is a girl, we can have a son next time.”
How like a man, she thought, the first one hadn’t even been born yet and he was already talking about the next one. It warmed her inside, though, and sounded like he was planning on keeping her around. Something else crossed her mind, something that had been bothering her for quite some time. “Can I ask you something?”
“If it is something I can answer.”
“I was thinking. You know, Alstrom has two wives. He took the second one when he was older. Are you going to take a second wife when I get older?” It was a reasonable inquiry she thought given the history hereabouts.
Kellach regarded her solemnly. “You wait until now to question me about this?”
“Well, I kept forgetting to actually ask you!”
“Multiple wives are not uncommon,” he said casually.
“I know they aren’t uncommon, but is that something you plan on doing?” Fiona’s temper flared. A second wife would not survive the day if it came to that. She would not share.
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