by Mac Flynn
Aili stepped to the front of the servants and bowed her head. "A great blessing this is, my laird, to have all the men return," she commented.
"Aye, and a very tiring affair," Tristan added. "I will quit to bed and wish to be alone for a while."
My eyes widened. "Even from me, my laird?" I asked him.
He turned and clasped my hands in his. His face looked aged as though he was tired after a great struggle. I wondered what had taken place inside the fog that had aged him so.
"Only for a short while, my love. I hate for you to see me in anything but my finest," he told me.
I pursed my lips, but bowed my head. "Aye, my laird."
"But in the meantime, I'm sure you hunger. Our meal was cut short, and we should not let Aili's delicious food go to waste," Tristan commented. He looked to Aili. "Take my lady and ready some warm meat and other foods for her."
Aili bowed her head. "Aye, my laird." She gently took me in her grasp and led me towards the open entrance doors.
I paused on the threshold and turned to my laird with a small smile. "You are never anything but fine to me, my laird."
He smiled and bowed to me. "Thank you, my lady, for the compliment. Eat well."
I bowed my head and allowed Aili to lead me to the dining hall. A place was set and Aili set me in the chair.
"You must be tired from seeing such carnage," she commented.
I set my hands in my lap and shook my head. "I witnessed no carnage."
Aili looked down at me and furrowed her brow. "No carnage? Were you far from the battle?"
"Less than a mile, but a fog covered the battle," I explained.
Her eyes widened. "A fog? From where did that come?"
I shook my head. "From nowhere, and yet everywhere. It appeared in front of us and covered everything."
She slid into a chair close at hand. "And then what happened?"
"Then my laird rushed into the fog to show God his faith, and there was heard some sort of battle in the camp of the enemy," I told her. "Then all was quiet, and my laird returned and the fog disappeared. Then the battle was finished."
Aili leaned back in her chair with her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open. "By my soul, that is the strangest tale I have ever heard told. And they're truly gone?"
I nodded. "Aye. I saw some of them lying there on the ground myself after the fog lifted.
Aili rubbed her chin with one hand. "A fog is a strange thing for God to bring us. Such hiding would seem the work of the Other One," she commented. She shook her head and stood. "But if the laird believes it is a sign and Father Clarke has no objections, then I will believe God sent the fog to assist us, and I believe you are in need of food. Let me see what makes them so long."
Aili left, but her words remained with me. Doubt crept into my mind that again this was not a sign of God, but of something far less benevolent. That perhaps my laird had some dealings with other things that were not meant to be called upon by man nor beast.
I shuddered and wrapped my arms around myself. A small voice inside me told me there was danger, but a louder voice told me I needed to steady myself. Fear would not help me in what I knew I needed to do.
I needed to ask my laird where lay the truth, and prepare for the worst.
CHAPTER 23
I finished my lonely dinner and retired for the evening. My footsteps were loud as I walked up the stairs and down the north wing hall to the glistening light that lay at the end of the passage. My heart beat furiously in my chest and I clasped my hands in front of me. I came to the doorway and stepped inside the bright light.
The room was lit only by the great fire within the hearth. My laird sat in his chair by the fire with his seat partially turned towards the door. His attire was fresh and clean, and the careworn look in his eyes was gone. He smiled at the doorway as though he expected my entrance.
"Good evening, my love," he welcomed me. He leaned towards me and opened his arms. "Won't you come inside?"
I fought against the urge to rush into the caresses his open arms promised me. My every muscle wished to join with him atop the bed for a night of delights, but the worry inside me shunned such touches. Not until I knew the truth could I dare trust myself in close quarters to him.
I curtsied to him, but dared not enter. "Good evening, my laird. I. . .I wish to speak with you about several most serious matters."
One of his eyebrows raised. "Truly? It must be serious if you do not willingly come at my offer. Still, we cannot have our talk be across my chambers. Come stand before me." I reluctantly stepped across the threshold and over to his chair. His dark eyes studied my face, but a smile danced across his lips. "Now what can my mouse want of me?"
I took a deep breath and spoke the words none dared speak. "I wish to know the truth about what happened in the fog, and. . .and about Laird Campbell's death."
My laird's eyes narrowed and he dropped back against the rear of his high-backed chair. "I see, but I wonder what could be your purpose in learning more of the matter. Does some foreign agent influence you?"
My eyes widened and I shook my head. "No, my laird. I wish only to know for myself."
"Then your curiosity is all that influences you?" he mused. He smiled and shook his head. "No, my little mouse wouldn't take such a bold action for mere curiosity. Something else bothers you. Is it something about me?"
"My laird, I wish only to know the truth," I insisted.
He chuckled. "The truth is always sought for some end other than itself. Fame and fortune will not be yours if you learned the truth and spoke it to others. On the contrary, you would find yourself in as much trouble as I. No, it must be something deeper than that." His searching eyes stopped on mine and his widened. "Is it fear, my love? Has someone tainted you so much that you now fear me?"
I bowed my head to avert my eyes. "I must know, my laird," I pleaded.
"You must know because you fear for yourself," he guessed. I cringed, and he chuckled. "I see I have solved this perplexing puzzle. Still, I am not pleased. Leod and you are the few who do not fear me, and I would not have that change now."
I watched him stand and step up to me. My body shook with both fear and the promise of his touch. He grasped my chin between his fingers and lifted my eyes so we looked at each other. His voice was soft, and his eyes glowed with the passion of the lover I had come to love.
"You needn't ever be afraid of me, my love," he whispered. "No matter what others whisper to you, nor what you see and hear, I will never let harm come to you from any quarter, even my own." He tilted his head to one side and pursed his lips. "Do you believe me?"
Such close quarters to my laird created a vibrant fire within me. My chest heaved with each breath and my body craved his touch, but I fought against the impulse to leap into his arms and ask for forgiveness.
"Yes, my laird," I answered.
He smiled, and I felt the weight of my fear and worries fall off me. "Good. Then we shall talk of other things this night."
My laird stepped back and fell into his seat. I in his hold was taken onto his lap so I straddled his legs. His face lay even with my breasts, and a hungry look slipped into the dark depths of his eyes. I tried to gather my wits about me for one final plea for truth.
"My laird, what truly happened to your father? And our enemies?" I persisted.
He chuckled and his hands wrapped around my waist to bring me closer to him. "You are very bold to come to me asking such questions. It shows a certain lack of faith, but a courage I can admire."
I pressed my hands against his chest and felt his muscles ripple beneath the thin cloth of his shirt. A shudder escaped my lips, but I swallowed the burning fire within me. "Did you. . .did you kill him?" I asked him.
My laird smiled, and the blazing fire was reflected off his sharp fangs. "Need you ask?"
I could ask no more questions. His feral scent wafted over me and all common sense left me. Any thought of patricide and fear was swept away and replaced by the
feel of him beneath me. His hands pulled the hem of my dress up to my waist and they slipped beneath the thin fabric to touch my quivering skin. I grasped his shirt and shuddered as his hands touched the naked flesh of my thighs.
"My laird," I whispered.
He leaned towards me and nipped at my neck. "Ssh. No more talk. Only feel me."
I leaned my neck back and allowed him full use of my body. My breasts swelled and pressed painfully against the front of my dress. One of his hands slipped out and untied the string on my bodice. The front of my dress opened and my bulging breasts pushed out. His hand swept aside the cloth and revealed my bare, heaving breasts to his full view.
"Beautiful," he whispered. He leaned forward and captured one of my buds in his hot, soft lips.
I shuddered and bit my lip to keep back my groan. He suckled me as his hands explored my thighs and hips. His fingers danced across my flesh and bid my body burn with desire for more of his touches. I grasped his shoulders and let myself fall into the sinful pleasure he stoked within me.
My soft sighs filled the air as his hands pulled me close to his waist. His thick manhood bulged from his pants and promised me more sensual delights than I could have ever dreamed. I rubbed my hot, wet folds against him and groaned at the feel of him against me.
My laird tore himself from my breasts and looked into my eyes with such feral lust that the fire within me burst into full flame. His look of passion elicited a whimper from me. I desperately needed him as I needed nothing else. His touches, his strokes, his thrusts. I craved all of him. He could do what he would with me and I would enjoy every moment. I was his servant, his lover, his possession, and he was my master.
A sly smile slipped onto his lips and his hands stopped their exploration of my body. "You have been very naughty to doubt me," he teased.
I whimpered and squirmed. The fire inside me demanded satiation, and only he could satisfy that lust.
"My laird," I whimpered.
"Beg for my touch," he growled. "Beg for me to take you and make you mine."
"Please," I whispered. My tongue flicked out and licked my dry lips. My sweat-soaked body ached for him to take me and make me his in another night of passion. I lusted for him like I was a wild animal in heat, and he was my mate. "Please touch me. Please take me."
He leaned towards me and his hot lips brushed against my ear. "To whom do you belong?"
"You," I groaned.
"And who will fill your womb with child?" he whispered.
"Only you," I answered.
There could be no one else. No other creature could bring alive the sensual pleasure my body desired like this man, this demon. It was sinful to be coerced by such a creature, but damnation felt so wonderful. I wanted nothing but for this sinful desire to envelope me in its warm embrace and take me for all eternity.
"Then I will fill you to my pleasure," he whispered.
He opened his pants and brushed aside my dress. I moaned as he penetrated me with his swollen, throbbing manhood. He filled and stretched me, and we were as one as he started our sensual dance. My laird grabbed my hips and held me so he was able to thrust in and out of me. I tilted my head back and opened my eyes to the wondrous feelings he created inside me.
"Oh my laird. My master," I groaned.
"Yes. Reveal to me your thoughts. I wish to hear your cries," he growled.
The hunger in his words and his thick manhood inside me inflamed my passions. I was his to control, to love, to mold into whatever he wished. All my will bent to his word, his desire, and at that moment he desired my chants of pleasure.
"More," I pleaded. "Fill more of me. Make me yours."
"Yes," he hissed.
The heat of our pleasure washed over me in thick waves that penetrated my very soul. I closed my eyes and relished the feel of him under me, inside me. Each stroke, each thrust built upon the previous until I knew nothing but him. He was my lover, my mate, my master, my everything.
Each of his thrusts seemed to transform me into a creature of lust. I felt my hips widen and my fingers lengthen. My flowing muscles ached for his touch and my breasts swelled with my need. My hair grew and spilled down my back. The feral parts of my mind brushed aside my human senses and took control. I was a wild animal, a wolf, and I would pleasure and please my mate.
My hands tore open the collar of his shirt and my fingers glided over his sweat-soaked skin. He growled, and the rumble reverberated through my very soul. I shuddered and leaned back to bare my breasts to him. He dove down and suckled me again, soft and slow and hot.
"Oh god. Oh my god," I moaned. My god of lust granted me his blessing and thrust harder. I felt the waves of orgasm cover me with its passionate waters. I gasped for breath. "My god. Yes! More!"
"Louder!" he commanded me.
I clawed at his shoulders as I felt myself come. His penetrations quickened, and he lengthened my bliss until the only sensation I knew was pleasure.
"Yes! Yours! Only yours!" I screamed.
"Yes!" he called out. He penetrated me one last time and lingered inside of me to spill his seed.
Then my lover collapsed backwards into the chair and held me tight for a long, long time.
CHAPTER 24
I awoke the next morning to a stream of bright light that shot into my eyes. I cringed and rolled over. My arm stretched across the bed and met with only sheets. I forced opened my eyes and saw that I was alone in the bed. A quick cursory of the room told me my laird had even left the chambers.
I sat up and stretched. My body was sore, but a fresh warmth lay in my muscles that chased away the worst of the stiffness. A simple dress lay at the end of the bed, clean and fitted perfectly to my body. I donned my clothes and went down to breakfast in the hopes I would find my laird's smiling face at the table.
My steps took me only as far as the opening to the entrance hall before I paused and leaned over the balcony. Chamberlain stood near the open doors with a boy of fourteen on hand to assist him. Together the two of them handled a large mess of dried meats, alcohol in various containers, and dozens of flowers. The flowers were especially surprising as the first frost had killed many of them, but there they lay in tall, elegant piles against the base of the balcony like a painting.
I walked down the stairs and over to Chamberlain.
"Are these for our laird's coronation?" I asked him.
He shook his head. "No. These are the end of the year taxes come early as thanks to our new laird."
"Thanks? For last night's deed?" I inquired.
Chamberlain bowed his head. "Aye. The news has reached the whole of the valley and-" He was interrupted when an old woman shuffled through the doors with a nervous young boy of eleven summers by her side.
They were not familiar to me, and so did not live in the village. The old woman's shawl was embroidered with sheep's wool of the kind raised at the far end of the valley. In her quivering hands was a wreath of flowers for the head, and the boy held a leather bag that jingled with coins. The old woman stopped before Chamberlain and me, and bowed her head. The boy followed her example.
"My laird Chamberlain," she greeted the steward.
"Bean Lloyd," he returned in kind. The young boy beside Chamberlain scribbled down the name on a sheet of paper in his hand. "It is a pleasure to see you again."
She smiled. "Aye. I always come with but one purpose. The taxes." She gestured to the young man. "This is my grandson, Michael. I am too old to manage the cart, but he is a fine young man now to help me on the long journey."
"You are early this year," Chamberlain commented.
Bean Lloyd bowed her head. "Aye, we are. The warriors of the Menzies clan were hard put to burn us out of our homes and sheep, but they fled when word came of the defeat of their army at the High Road." She turned to me and her ancient eyes studied my face. "You must be our Lady Campbell. Long life to you." She bowed her head to me.
I smiled and returned the compliment. "And to you as well, Bean Lloyd."
I blinked at her. "My courage?"
She gave a nod. "Aye. We heard of your courage to accompany our laird, and how your innocence brought forth God's will upon our enemies. The wreath is a small token of our appreciation."
"I do not-" One pointed look from Chamberlain stopped my protests. I smiled and knelt on one knee before Bean Lloyd. "I would be honored to wear your wreath."
Bean Lloyd leaned forward and placed the wreath of sweet-smelling flowers atop my head. Her young grandson handed the taxes to Chamberlain. The old woman stepped back, and I raised my head to find a small, bright smile on her lips.
"You truly are most kind, Lady Campbell," Bean Lloyd complimented me.
I blushed. "Thank you."
Bean Lloyd turned to her grandson and leaned on his arm. "Now let us go, Michael. We have a long road ahead of us."
The pair disappeared through the front doors and out into the courtyard. I stood and touched the garlands atop my head.
"I do not know if I have earned such praise," I murmured.
"They believe you have, and it is wise policy to allow the people to view you in a favorable light," Chamberlain advised me.
"But what do they believe? What stories are being told?" I asked him.
Chamberlain's eyes flickered to his young assistant. "Steven. Take account of who enters and how they pay the taxes."
The young boy bowed his head. "Yes, steward."
Chamberlain wrapped his arm around me and led me into the coronation hall. The hall was no longer its gloomy self, but a place of open windows and streaming sunlight. The bare floor was swept clean and banners were draped around the ceiling in preparation for the coronation.
Chamberlain closed the doors behind us and turned to me. His lips were tightly pursed and he took a deep breath. I clasped my hands together and my heart thumped loudly in my chest.
