The Warrior's Salvation (Warriors of Eriu Book 1)

by Mia Pride

  “You cannot find Clarice?” she questioned and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the crowd of revelers.

  He was thankful to be away from the crush, no longer needing to shout so loud to be heard. “Nay. Nobody can find her and everyone says she was with Ealasaid last. I cannot find either lass.”

  “Tis strange.” Lili chewed her lower lip in deep thought. “I have not seen either of them since we left your home, either. Perhaps you should check Ealasaid’s home?”

  Jeoffrey stiffened. “I cannot go barging into her home without sending the wrong message. I have been trying to shake that lass for several moons.” He shuttered and Lili laughed.

  “Aye, aye. She is indeed attached to you. Come, I will go with you.”

  Silently, they walked across the village, passing numerous round shaped houses with lime-washed walls and pointy thatched roofs. The round stilted granaries they strode past were nearly empty now, but had been filled with the grains harvested from last autumn and had fed the village throughout the winter. Soon, more grain would grow and again be harvested. As one of the farmers of the village, it was partially his job to fill them. But now, he could not think past finding his wife.

  Fear began to brew deep in his belly. With every passing moment, with every passing step, the old fear of abandonment echoed in his mind. It felt like he was reliving a nightmare of long ago, but he had to push the fear down. Clarice would not leave him again and she certainly would never leave her son.

  Arriving at the small roundhouse that Ealasaid shared with her parents, two brothers, and a grandmother, they stopped in front while he pounded on the door with more force than necessary. When nobody answered, he pounded again.

  “That is not helping, Jeoffrey,” Lili scolded. Trying the door, Lili sighed in relief as it creaked open. The room was mostly dark, aside from the remains of the fire that glowed dimly in the hearth.

  “Nobody is here,” Jeoffrey whispered, feeling uncomfortable intruding into someone’s home.

  Lili put a hand up to silence him and crept in further. He listened carefully but was met with only silence. Taking another step forward, he thought he heard a muffled sob. Looking at Lili with confusion, she nodded to signal that she heard it as well.

  The sound was coming from a bed on the opposite side of the room. The curtains were drawn and it was hard to see in the dim room, but he could hear well enough. Someone was within that curtained bed, sobbing into something to muffle the cries.

  “Ealasaid?” Lili whispered calmly, stepping closer to the bed. They heard a clear squeal of surprise come from the bed and Jeoffrey lost his patience with this foolishness.

  Drawing the curtains back swiftly, he did not feel sorry for causing her to flinch or shriek with fear. Ealasaid was huddled on top of her bed furs, crying into a wool blanket and shaking violently.

  “Where is my wife?” Jeoffrey growled. He had no time for this shite. “She was last seen with you. Everyone has said as much.” Why was she crying? Had something happened to Clarice?

  His frustration grew instantly into a powerful fear. “Where is she?” he hollered, causing her to flinch again and cry harder.

  Her sobs became loud, wracking jolts that caused her to hiccup before she spoke again. “I…I think I made a terrible mistake…” she murmured and covered her face with her hands.

  Jeoffrey could feel his anger boiling over. He had no patience for Ealasaid or her ridiculous blabbering. Reaching over the bed, he grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a hard shake. He would never have thought to treat a woman in that manner, but the lass’s words sent a cold dread running through his veins and he knew something terrible had happened to Clarice. “Curse you, Woman! What have you done?”

  She wailed in anguish and wrapped her arms tightly around her body as she began to rock back and forth on her bed. “A few days ago, I was approached by a man.” She swallowed hard and shivered again, taking a deep breath. “He…he knew Clarice. He told me he had been searching for her. She killed his brother and his wife! When he tried to have her put to trial by a Brehon, she fled her justice!”

  Ealasaid appeared to be on the verge of a breakdown. She was gasping for breath and turning white. Jeoffrey could not have the lass losing consciousness on him now, not before he heard all the details. Even with just the little he had heard, dread turned in his gut. Gregory. He must have found Clarice and tricked Ealasaid into delivering her to him. The urge to flee this house, mount a horse, and chase them down almost took control. But he needed all the details, so he knew what he was up against.

  “Continue, lass…” he growled. He did not want to frighten her further, but she was taking much too long to tell the tale and every minute mattered.

  “He asked me to bring Clarice to him. He promised not to hurt her!” she sputtered and wailed again.

  “He hurt her?” Jeoffrey roared and ran his hand through his short dark hair, pacing the room like a caged animal hungry for the hunt. Ealasaid only nodded and began to cry again.

  “What have you done?” he shouted so loud that the walls of the house seemed to rumble from the vibrations of his fear for Clarice’s life. “That man is dangerous. I must get to her,” he said more to himself than anyone else.

  A soft hand touched his arm and he jumped. Looking down, he saw Lili next to him with tears in her eyes and a quivering lip. “Do you know where to find her?” she whispered softly.

  He nodded and clenched his jaw. “Aye, as long as he truly does mean to take her back to her old village, I will find them.”

  Heart pounding in his chest and breath refusing to slow, he turned on his heels and headed for the door.

  “I am sorry, Jeoffrey,” he heard Ealasaid whisper behind his retreating back. “I thought…he told me…I didn’t want her to hurt you too!” she groaned in misery. A slight pang of pity touched Jeoffrey for the lass. Aye, she was like a pesky wee fly that always seemed to be buzzing around his ear, but he did not truly believe that she was intentionally cruel. Gregory may be very convincing. Still, the lass should have come to him, not betrayed his bride and sent her back into the clutches of her abuser!

  Memories of the wounds Clarice had sustained before reuniting with him flashed through his mind and he had to swallow down the porridge that threatened to come back up again. There was no time for sitting around and worrying. “I will deal with you later, Ealasaid,” he growled just before slamming the door, leaving Lili wringing her hands beside the bed.

  Heading back outside, a wall of wispy smoke hit him in the face, making it nearly impossible to see who or what stood in front of him. Instead of wasting time trying to carefully maneuver through the crowd, Jeoffrey shouldered his way through anyone in his path until he was in the middle of the village. His mind spun with worry, but a lifetime of warrior training had taught him to keep a cool head and think logically before making decisions. It would be easy to simply charge off into the night and hope for the best, but he needed his weapon and some backup. There was no telling what he would run into once he arrived at Caledonii or just how dangerous Gregory would be.

  It had been many years since Jeoffrey had seen his cousin, but they had trained together as lads in Ériu and Jeoffrey remembered just how fierce a fighter Gregory had been. Brute strength was on Gregory’s side. But the man was overly prideful and had always sought to gain his way using fear. Jeoffrey would not allow Gregory to frighten Clarice into marriage.

  “Alastar!” Jeoffrey roared over the chaos of the chattering crowd and musical instruments in the background. He took large strides toward his house to retrieve his weapons, all the while continuing to bellow his mate’s name. “Alastar!”

  “Aye?” Alastar’s face was pinched with worry and he stood rigidly before Jeoffrey. He may tend to be ridiculously aggravating with his constant humor at times, but Jeoffrey had to give it to Alastar. The man was a warrior, through and through. He could sense danger lingering in the breeze and had the reflexes of a feral animal. Apparently, Jeoff
rey must sound as panicked as he felt, for his companion was ready to fight with his hand on the hilt of his sword on his hip.

  “Clarice has been taken by that arse Gregory!” Saying the words out loud made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Her very life depended on him and Alastar getting to her with all due haste. He remembered Clarice had told him Gregory meant to marry her. He did not truly wish to have her tried for murder, only to force her into a union with him.

  Cold flooded him like a barrel of ice water poured over his head. This situation was all too familiar. Had he not also abducted a woman, already handfast at that, and filled her with false threats to force her hand into marriage? Aye, he was a right bastard for what he had done to Treasa. Only, he had not ever truly meant to follow through with his threats of hurting her family, and he had been working under the firm hand of his father. Gregory was working only for his own benefit, and something warned Jeoffrey that the man meant to follow through if she refused to wed Gregory.

  The thought of his Clarice being bound to any other man, especially one as vile as his cousin Gregory, made Jeoffrey clench his fists and grind his teeth. But the thought of true harm scared him to his very core. He hoped Clarice could keep Gregory at bay until he could catch up with them. He would not be too far behind.

  “I need my sword! Meet me at the stables!” Jeoffrey began to walk away, but Alastar grabbed him by the sleeve.

  “Mayhap we should bring more warriors?”

  “Nay,” Jeoffrey responded swiftly. “I cannot have us bringing more attention to ourselves. I suspect Gregory will not go to the chief of his tribe just yet with his accusation. He wishes to have Clarice as his wife.” He spit on the ground, the words making him feel disgusted to even say. “I hope we can catch them before they even reach their village. It’s a day’s ride south and they are most likely on one horse.”

  That thought had Jeoffrey seeing red. Clarice sharing a horse with that madman, Gregory’s hands around her waist, made Jeoffrey want to find the man all the quicker and sever his head from his body. Self-loathing flooded him as he, again, remembered doing the same thing to Treasa before. How her husband, Eoin, must truly wish to kill Jeoffrey for the way he had treated his wife…even if he had protected her and saved Eoin’s life in the end. No man could forgive such treatment of his wife. Jeoffrey knew no forgiveness could be found in his own heart for the deed Gregory had done. Gregory would die by his hand for daring to place his hands on Clarice.

  Then he stopped in his tracks. Wee Jeoff. He could not leave the lad unattended while he took off on a journey that could last over two days if they do not catch up to Clarice and Gregory and must ride all the way to Caledonii and back. Turning swiftly, he shouted to Alastar, “Bring my son to Morna. She will keep him safe until I return with Clarice. Do not frighten the lad. Tell him whatever you must to keep him unaware of the situation.”

  “Aye,” Alastar shouted and took off into the crowd to find Wee Jeoff where they had left him only moments before talking to the other warriors.

  Jeoffrey was not certain how much further ahead Gregory had ridden with Clarice, mayhap about an hour or so. No matter. Jeoffrey and Alastar would ride like the wind, all through the night if need be. He would find his wife. And he would rid this world of the vile man who captured her.

  ***

  With Gregory’s heavy breathing against her neck and the sting of the wind against her face, Clarice shuddered upon the horses back, keeping her body as stiff as possible so she could avoid touching his. But her body was unaccustomed to riding. Being a serf her entire life, a horse was never a luxury she had been allowed. Many people learn to ride a horse over a lifetime as their muscles became used to the jarring movements. Not Clarice. Her body ached and throbbed in places she had never even imaged she could ache, and it had only been a few hours of riding. Gregory pushed his horse hard in the beginning, seemingly desperate to put as much space between her new village and himself as he could.

  Did Gregory know she had just been about to marry Jeoffrey? How long had he known her whereabouts and watched her from a distance? The thought of his lecherous gaze following her every movement while she went about her life blindly made her insides threaten to spill. He was a foul man. She knew the only way to save herself was to marry him, but death would be a better fate than life as his wife.

  Nay, Jeoffrey would come…would he not? Unless…what if he only finds that she is missing and assumes the worst? He will believe that she abandoned him again and mayhap he will turn his back on her. The thought made a sob escape her clenched throat. She could not blame him if he did believe she had betrayed him. Her heart told her he would know that she was true, that he would come for her. But her head spun with all the worse thoughts she could muster, of Jeoffrey calling her a whore, of him believing her capable of leaving for other men. But if Jeoffrey was capable of seeing beyond their turbulent past, he would use logic and reason. She would never leave him. And she would never leave Wee Jeoffrey, not purposefully.

  Her son. Another sob broke through her barrier of restraint. She missed him terribly already. She would escape even if Jeoffrey never came for her because she could not bear the thought of never seeing her wee son again. Aye, she would appease Gregory just long enough to make her escape, and when she did, she would find her son and Jeoffrey. Then, she would make Ealasaid pay for her betrayal. The lass may have truly believed Gregory’s story of murder, but what she had done was inexcusable. She could have come to Jeoffrey, or even Clarice first. It was a mistake beyond measure to set her up in such a way, to pretend to share a gift…a horrible gift at that. Clarice had tried to be kind and indulge the lass only to keep the peace, but there would be no peace between them if Clarice got out of this alive.

  The horse finally came to a slow trot after hours of being pushed beyond its limits. The poor animal’s gray and white speckled neck was foaming with sweat and he panted from exhaustion. “We must rest, but only for a while before we continue.” Gregory’s voice abruptly pulled her out of the deep, churning thoughts that had circled her mind for several hours. Neither of them had spoken since he sprang upon her and slung her over his shoulder. She had nothing to say to the man. No amount of cursing, pleading or reasoning would sway his mind, she knew well. His silence was curious, however. Gregory was usually never short on threats, but mayhap it was too hard to speak when the horse was running so fast.

  Swinging down from the horse, Gregory reached up to grab her waist and she instinctively slapped his hand away from her. He let out a harsh laugh and sneered. “Come now, Clarice. You must get used to my touch if you are to be my wife.”

  “You make me sick,” she shot back. So much for being compliant, she chided herself.

  “I am sorry to hear that lass,” he growled lowly as he reached up and grabbed her waist again tightly, dragging her off the horse. “Though I cannot know how you loved my brother so well…I look just like him and you claim to despise me.”

  How dare he speak of Harrold! She seethed with red hot anger. It flowed through her veins like a living, breathing creature threatening to burst through her skin. “You…” she said through clenched teeth as she fisted her hands in her skirts, “are nothing like Harrold. Nothing!” She shouted the last word and immediately regretted her outburst when she felt the back of his hand come across her face, snapping her head back painfully.

  “Nay, I am not. He was spineless and weak-hearted! He could never take what he wanted. Watching him with you day after day, sharing your bed, yet never sharing your body, while I was stuck taking care of my worthless wife!”

  Clarice gasped at his cruel words against not only his brother but his wee, ill wife who was one of the kindest people Clarice had ever known. The need to defend them overrode all good sense. Let him smack her around, but he would not have the last word. “Harrold was a far better man than you! And what we did or did not do in our own bed was never your business!” She felt her cheeks blazing red at having said those words ou
t loud. Aye, Harrold never touched her, never even showed a will to want to, and that is why she felt so safe with him. His love for her was pure, untainted with lust. He loved her for her. He had been a good man.

  “And your wife was not worthless! She did her best to care for you while she could! How could you speak so ill of them after their death? What sort of a beast speaks that way of his brother and wife?”

  Gregory’s face transformed into a wide, proud grin, one that was so unnatural it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. The man was evil, plain and simple. Heartless and soulless…and she was at his mercy in the vast woods with no option but to succumb to him one way or another. If not for the hope of seeing her son and Jeoffrey again, she would rather die.

  “Tis nay coincidence my wife died so soon after Harrold.”

  His words hung between them in the thick spring night air, chilling her more than the cold stinging her face. “Nay…” she croaked, understanding what he implied so callously.

  “Aye. They were both worthless! She could not give me children. What else is a woman for if not for breeding? Admit it, Clarice. You were lonely with him! A woman like you,” he pulled her closer and ran a thick stubby finger over the curve of her breast and licked his lips, “needs a real man to take care of her.”

  Bile rose in her throat at his touch and implication. When he grabbed her wrist and put her palm over the bulge in his trousers, she had to hold back from retching as she tried to escape his grip. “You see, Clarice? You make my blood boil with need. I have wanted you for years, even when you were with Jeoffrey back in Ériu. Then you showed up in Alba with Harrold. Soon after, your belly began to swell. Night after night he took you to his bed and never laid a finger on you, the fool. I knew then, that your child was Jeoffrey’s. You deserved more. You deserve a man…like me.”

  Pulling her against him hard, he leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head swiftly, causing him to kiss her cheek. “Have you been so long without the touch of a man that you are so shy?” he murmured, petting her cheek with his fingers and smelling her hair. She wanted to lash out at him, rake her nails down his face, kick him in the bollocks, and run as fast as she could. But to where? The darkness of night consumed the world, nothing but the twinkle of stars overhead and the hazy blue light from the half-moon to guide her way. The forest all around them felt so at peace, yet fear brewed inside her making panic bury its roots deep within her mind.