Bound to a Warrior

by Donna Fletcher

  He sounded certain enough, and besides, he squeezed her hand and locked his fingers with hers. That was a sure sign he didn’t want to go anywhere and that they would fight this battle together.

  “You’ve done nothing,” Mara scolded as she rushed into the room.

  Mercy corrected her. “He’s done everything for me.”

  Mara looked to her son, smiled and then turned to Mercy. “Well, he’s about to do more.”

  Duncan worked alongside his mother and in no time they had Mercy out of her garments and into a white, soft wool nightdress and tucked beneath an even softer wool blanket. Mara then took a couple of platters of food from the table and placed them on the chest next to the bed where Duncan sat. She added pitchers of wine and mead. When she was finished she gathered Mercy’s discarded garments.

  “I’ll repair these garments so they’ll be ready to wear when you are,” she said. “Now it’s time to get some food into you and then time to rest.”

  “And Duncan too,” Mercy said.

  Mara nodded. “Sleep well and I’ll see you both in the morning.” Mara stopped at the door and turned and though she spoke to Mercy, she looked to her son. “One thing, Mercy, our parents don’t define us. We define ourselves.”

  Mercy looked to Duncan ready to talk, but he silenced her with a gentle finger to her lips.

  “No more tonight,” he said. “There’s time enough tomorrow or the next day or the next.”

  She smiled as his finger slipped away. He was letting her know that he didn’t intend for her to go anywhere. He wanted her right there with him. And so she gratefully let it be for another day.

  While the food was appetizing, she found she wasn’t hungry, which seemed to concern Duncan.

  “Just eat a little,” he cajoled offering her a small piece of hard cheese.

  She was about to tell him she just wasn’t hungry when she realized that if she did he would stop eating so that she could sleep.

  “Maybe a little,” she agreed.

  He smiled as she took the cheese from him. “A little will do you well, while a lot will do me even better.”

  She nibbled on the cheese as they sat in bed, his back braced against the thick, hand-carved headboard and her head rested on his shoulder. She thought about how irritable they had been tonight and then about their first bout of grouchy angriness and how it was settled.

  She laughed softly. “You and I were grouchy tonight.”

  “And you find this humorous?”

  “I recalled how we decided how to handle such a situation,” she said and cuddled in the crook of his arm.

  He lifted her chin and planted a soft kiss on her lips. “If only you were up to it, I would make love, oh slow and gentle to you, until sunrise.”

  She sighed knowing she didn’t have the stamina, already sleep was creeping over her. “I wish it could be so, but sleep will soon claim me, though I would prefer your touch to claim me.”

  He quickly disrobed using the knife on the table to cut away his shirt from the shackle. Then he slipped beneath the blanket easing her down on the mattress with him.

  “Close your eyes,” he whispered, “and my touch will take you into dreamland.”

  And it did.

  Mercy slipped into a gentle slumber as Duncan’s fingers worked their magic on her warm skin.

  Chapter 24

  Duncan hadn’t expected to sleep so soundly but he had, his eyes drifting open with the sunrise. Mercy didn’t stir, hadn’t all night, since they were in the same position they had fallen asleep in.

  He stared at her, the bastard-daughter of the king. He had never given such a possibility thought. That she was daughter to the king had stunned him, especially since he was fighting for the true king to claim the throne.

  What did trouble him was why the king had changed his mind about wanting his daughter dead. He couldn’t help but think that it might have something to do with him. Had the king discovered their mission? Did he think his daughter could provide him with information? And how did he confide the truth to Mercy when he’d been sworn to secrecy?

  Also while it had disturbed him that she hadn’t told him of her identity, he could understand why. It was just that he wanted to know that she trusted him enough to confide anything to him and yet…

  He couldn’t offer the same…he had taken an oath.

  Falling in love with her had come so naturally and he had assumed the rest would follow just as naturally, even though he had his mission to tend to. But now it was all different.

  Now he had fallen in love with the king’s daughter. A king he intended to dethrone.

  She stirred in the crook of his arm and then settled once again.

  He brushed a strand of her dark hair away from her face, a face so lovely that he never tired of looking upon it, and never would.

  Today they would be free of each other, though not truly. It wasn’t these metal cuffs and chain that bound them. No, love had somehow sneaked in and fettered them more than any shackle could.

  He only hoped that the chains of love were strong enough to overcome the obstacles they were about to face.

  A soft rap on the door drew his attention and he called out in a relatively low voice, “Enter.”

  He wasn’t surprised to see his mother, garments draped over her arm and her stitching basket on the other. She had never missed hearing a thing he and his brothers had said through the years, even if she had been across a room or field. For awhile they had believed that she had possessed magical hearing, but then her sight had also been magical, since she had caught them at just about every trick and tease.

  “She slept well?” his mother asked.

  “Aye, as did I,” he said knowing it would be her next question.

  “Good, I’m pleased that last night’s troubles didn’t keep the two of you from sleeping,” Mara said. “I thought it best if you both ate with the family this morning.”

  Duncan knew it was a summons rather than a request.

  “I’ll help Mercy get into fresh clothes when she’s ready and then we’ll eat and then it’s off to Harry to free you of these chains.”

  “You have it all planned do you?” Duncan grinned.

  Mara retained her smile, but her words warned, “There’s work that needs doing.”

  Duncan’s grin faded and he nodded. “I know.”

  “Can I help?” Mercy asked.

  They both turned to see her waking with a yawn and a stretch.

  “That’s if you don’t mind,” Mercy said. “There’s much I’ve been taught to do.”

  “You can help with the stitching,” Mara offered.

  “Oh, I can do much more than stitch,” Mercy informed her. “I can run every aspect of a keep and I am excellent with numbers.”

  “You read and write then?” Mara asked.

  “Aye, Latin, French and most of the Gaelics.”

  Mara looked to Duncan and nodded. He knew what she was thinking. Mercy would be a good one to have on their side, but then that would mean betraying her father. And though her father might have wanted her dead, would she want the same for her father?

  He also wondered why she hadn’t told him of her many talents before this, but with his mother present he wasn’t about to broach the subject. Then again, perhaps he should remember what she had told him last night.

  You know me better than anyone.

  “I’ll help anyway I can,” Mercy said.

  “Well, for now that would be getting up and dressed so that you can join my family for the morning meal,” Mara said.

  Duncan not only sensed, but he saw her hesitation as she struggled to sit up. He reached out, wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her up to sit. She leaned against his arm and he had easily come to realize that it was her way of seeking protection and comfort. He knew what troubled her and what she needed from him.

  She glanced up at him with pleading eyes.

  Damn if her glistening blue eyes didn’t do him in. They
mesmerized and he’d about do anything for her when caught in their beauty.

  He had to shake his head. “If you can battle soldiers and emerge victorious, then you will have no trouble sharing a meal with my family.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure,” Mara said and laughed. “Now let’s get you dressed. And you—” She pointed to Duncan. “Get your plaid on and be quick about it.”

  Duncan obliged and in no time the three were leaving the room, delicious scents growing stronger as they descended the stairs.

  They never reached the table. A young lad hurried into the room with a message from Harry. “He’s ready for you.”

  “We’ll take a bite with us,” Duncan suggested.

  “Suddenly I’m not hungry,” Mercy said clinging tightly to Duncan’s arm.

  He felt the same, though made no mention of it. Soon they would be able to walk away from each other. After spending every moment with her for the last several weeks, he wondered how it would be without her. He’d find out soon enough.

  “Freedom!” Trey and Reeve yelled, jumping up off the bench with broad smiles and tankards high.

  “They tease,” Duncan said to Mercy.

  “But who? You or me?” She smiled and walked away, forcing him to follow.

  He was surprised by her sudden, determined gait and that she remained a few steps ahead of him, not beside him or with her hand clasped in his. Once outside her steps took on a more rapid pace.

  “Anxious to be free?” he asked curious as to her sudden rush.

  She didn’t stop or turn around. “I have a promise to keep.”

  “A promise?” he asked rubbing his chin.

  “You don’t remember?”

  It struck him then. “I get my kiss.”

  He rushed forward, with no doubt what looked like an idiot’s grin on his face, and scooped her up into his arms. “I can get us there faster.”

  They laughed, and though Duncan was eager for her to kiss him, once the chains were removed, everything would change.

  Mercy turned her face away as the hammer came down on the edge of the metal cuff braced on the anvil. She thought her wrist would shatter from the vibration, but she kept her fear to herself. Duncan had withstood the ordeal without complaint or grimace and he was free, his metal cuff gone. She intended to do the same, though she was glad he remained by her side, not leaving her to face this on her own but to share his strength.

  Harry had insisted that he remove Duncan’s cuff first, explaining that it would be safer for Mercy.

  She braced herself for another blow and this time she couldn’t help but wince.

  Harry grumbled beneath his breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Duncan asked, stepping forward, though Harry had warned him to keep a distance.

  “This cuff is heavier than yours,” Harry explained. “I’ve seen it used before on prisoners the king wants to make certain can never escape, can never be free.”

  “You can get it off, can’t you?” Duncan asked.

  Harry rubbed his bald spot repeatedly.

  Trey suddenly appeared, a bit out of breath. “We need to talk now.”

  “I can’t leave her,” Duncan said and looked to Harry. “Can you?”

  Harry examined the cuff again and again rubbed his bald spot.

  Reeve arrived. “Father’s waiting.”

  “He won’t leave her,” Trey said.

  “You’re free, she’s brave, so say you. What’s the problem?” Reeve asked.

  Duncan ignored them both and focused on Harry. “Tell me you can get the damn cuff off her.”

  “I can get it off, but I can’t promise I won’t damage her wrist doing it.”

  Duncan turned to his brothers. “Tell Father whatever it is must wait. I will not leave Mercy to go through this alone.”

  “It sounds important,” Mercy said, not truly wanting him to go, but not wanting him to think that she couldn’t handle it on her own. She didn’t want to think she couldn’t handle it alone. She might have Duncan right now, but there was no telling what the future would bring, especially with her father wanting her to return home. He was a man who always got his way and didn’t care what he had to do to get it.

  “It will wait,” Duncan said, sending his brothers a sharp look that had both of them taking a step back.

  “Is there anything we can do?” Reeve asked.

  Harry stared at Reeve a moment, then he looked down at the metal cuff on Mercy’s wrist, then back at Reeve again and nodded. “There just might be.”

  “What can he do?” Duncan asked, slipping his arm around Mercy’s shoulder.

  “I’ve seen no one with the strength of Reeve,” Harry said. “There’s not a one of us fool enough to go up against him, except you and Trey and Bryce of course.”

  Reeve laughed. “I always knew my brothers were fools, but it’s good to hear that someone agrees with me.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Harry grumbled.

  Duncan sent his brother another scolding look and Reeve quit laughing, though retained a grin. Mercy was beginning to see just how close these men were for in the short time she had been introduced to them, they had without question or hesitation been there for each other.

  “Explain, Harry,” Duncan said.

  “Reeve’s arm strength goes far beyond mine,” Harry said. “It’s possible that with one blow he could crack the cuff making it easier to remove. Of course if he used too much strength he could shatter the cuff and her wrist along with it.”

  Duncan turned to Reeve, though spoke not a word.

  Reeve stepped forward. “What say you, Mercy?”

  He was so lean one would never expect that he possessed such strength, but having witnessed how he had disposed of the soldiers, she knew otherwise.

  “I trust you,” she said and smiled.

  “Good lord, you’re a beauty,” Reeve said. “And lord knows I could never damage such beauty.”

  “Enough,” Duncan said irritably. “Get to work and you better not damage her.”

  “Or what?” Reeve teased.

  Duncan’s grin spread slow and confidently. “I’ll tell Mother.”

  “That’s cruel,” Reeve said and the brothers laughed.

  Mercy joined in the laughter. She had never known such close family ties. Family that you could depend on no matter what and who accepted you for who you were, not who you were expected to be.

  Harry demonstrated to Reeve what he needed him to do. And Mercy was relieved to see that Reeve displayed not a hint of doubt that he could manage it.

  Reeve approached Mercy, hammer and pin in hand. “Turn your head away in case any metal splinters go flying.”

  Duncan stepped to her side and positioned his body as a shield between her and Reeve. “Keep your face pressed against me.”

  Mercy didn’t argue. She much preferred burying her face against Duncan’s naked midriff, since he had yet to slip on the shirt he had brought with him, than watch Reeve battle the cuff.

  A fine sheen of perspiration covered Duncan’s skin, the familiar scent filling her nostrils. It brought back memories of their journey and the many times they faced the possibility of capture and death together. And the times they had lain naked in each other’s arms, not yet loving, but protecting. And she felt safe once again, protected and this time loved.

  She waited with much less worry, confident in Reeve.

  The blow came quickly, sending a vibration up her arm and throughout her body. Duncan’s arm had instantly wrapped around her and she knew he had felt the blow along with her.

  “Perfect shot,” Reeve cried out.

  Mercy had to see for herself, though she knew the metal cuff was gone. She felt the weight gone from around her wrist. She peeked past Duncan and sure enough her wrist was bare, free of the metal constraint that had joined Duncan and her for weeks.

  The skin was no longer raw, thanks to Bliss’s salve, though it continued to heal, and she wondered if it would leave a scar, tho
ugh she needed no reminder of the time she had spent with Duncan.

  She felt a swell in her chest. They were separated, free of each other. No longer would they spend every moment together. The thought made the swell grow until Mercy thought it would consume her.

  “Are you all right?” Duncan asked.

  She lifted her head with some difficulty, though she didn’t let him know that. “Aye, I’m fine.

  “And you’re finally free of my brother,” Reeve said, giving Duncan’s arm a slap.

  “Can we go now? Father’s waiting,” Trey reminded.

  Mercy didn’t want Duncan to go. She felt as if he was being ripped away from her and though it was foolish, she felt that once they separated they might never be together again.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Duncan asked, his hand resting on her cheek.

  She wanted to tell him that she was far from fine, that she was frightened now that they were apart, worried that her father would come claim her, concerned that they would never ever be joined so solidly again.

  “Go. I’m fine,” she assured him while trying to believe it herself.

  Chapter 25

  Duncan kept turning around glancing over his shoulder to look at Mercy. It felt odd being separated from her, leaving her behind and walking away with his brothers. He thought to take her along, but couldn’t. When Trey had announced their father wanted to speak with them, it was a signal that a messenger had arrived with news and they were to meet him in the woods behind the keep.

  He didn’t like leaving her right after having the shackles removed. He felt as if something needed to be said between them, and yet he wasn’t sure what it was. Did he tell her he loved her, or was it fair when he wasn’t sure of his own future? Or did he brave the unknown and to hell with what lay ahead?

  He wasn’t sure of anything at the moment except that he missed having her by his side. Instead of feeling lighter, freer with the chain gone, he felt as if he were missing a part of himself.

  He didn’t share any of this with his brothers. He didn’t need to. He was sure they knew how he felt about Mercy, or they wouldn’t have remained at the smithy to help him.