Warriors in Winter

by Michelle Willingham

  Kaall reached up the edge of the wall and his hand brushed against the pine needles. It reminded him of Rhiannon’s decorations and the night they’d spent together. He hated feeling so damned helpless—waiting for her, instead of taking action.

  A group of men passed by, talking of competitions, and Kaall joined their crowd, following their voices and footsteps outside. Though he doubted he could find Rhiannon, he wanted an escape from the closed-in walls.

  It took the greatest concentration to gain a sense of where he was. The large castle was immense, with open training grounds and he scented peat fires burning from homes nearby. He found a space against one wall of the inner bailey and edged his way along the perimeter, stopping every so often to gauge where he was.

  But as he neared the competitions, the noise grew so loud, it was impossible to move. He would undoubtedly stumble into people, or worse, the wall itself. Better to stay in one place, pretending to be a bystander, than to get even more disoriented than he already was.

  For a time, he was able to feign indifference, in order to calm the disorder rising inside of him. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself, walking around in an unfamiliar setting, but neither could he stay here for the rest of the afternoon.

  Strangely, the voices around him quieted. He sensed a shifting in the crowd, and footsteps drew closer to him. Who it was, he couldn’t say. But he sensed danger.

  ‘What do you want?’ he demanded. He kept his voice steady, revealing no fear. A dagger hung at his waist, but he didn’t grasp the weapon yet.

  ‘You killed my husband a year ago,’ a woman’s voice accused.

  He knew immediately who she was, and made no denial. Though he’d never intended to kill anyone, he wouldn’t apologise for defending himself. ‘I’ve killed many men. Especially those who attack me first.’

  ‘You were among those who raided Laochre. When my husband attacked you, he was trying to protect me.’

  Kaall didn’t argue with her, nor admit the truth about what had happened. This woman was hurting, wanting answers he couldn’t give. Nothing he said or did would bring back her husband.

  ‘And you’ve come here to kill me now. Is that it?’ He took a step closer and unsheathed his blade, offering it to her hilt-first. He chose his words as weapons, hoping his instincts were correct—that it was pain guiding her actions, not blood lust. ‘Take your vengeance, if that is your will. But know this—’

  Instead of a warning, words of truth came out. Words he hadn’t known were at the tip of his tongue, revealing thoughts he’d believed were buried inside.

  ‘I am already cursed and have been, since I was a child. If you kill me, it will end my suffering, granting me what I deserve.’

  * * *

  ‘Where were you last night?’ Connor MacEgan demanded.

  Rhiannon walked alongside her father, feeling the familiar resentment rise up. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘Because you keep disappearing from Laochre. A few nights ago during the storm, and last night as well. No one saw you at the solstice celebration.’

  Her face warmed, but she recognised the concern in his voice. He reached for her hand, and his twisted, misshapen fingers laced with hers. Years ago, an enemy had crushed his hands, and her mother had saved Connor’s life. Rhiannon had been there when the others had brought his broken body to Aileen, not knowing that the man they’d saved was her father.

  Aside from his overprotective nature, she’d grown to love the fierce man with only one good hand. Never had he been less of a person, despite his loss.

  It struck her that she saw Kaall with the same eyes. Aye, he lacked the ability to see. But there was so much more to him.

  ‘I spent the night with the man I healed,’ she admitted to her father. ‘The one who saved me from the storm.’

  His hand tightened upon hers, his expression darkening. ‘Rhiannon...’

  ‘I care about him very deeply,’ she continued. ‘He’s one of the Hardrata Lochlannach.’

  ‘Is he here now?’

  She gave a nod, and her father quickened his stride, guiding her toward the centre of the castle grounds. Though he said nothing at all, he wasn’t pleased by her confession. Murder brewed in his grey eyes.

  Ahead, a large crowd had gathered near the competitions. Connor continued bringing her closer, and at first, she couldn’t make sense of the noise.

  Then she spied Arturo de Manzano running toward her cousin Brianna.

  Her heart nearly stopped, when she saw the blade in the young woman’s hands.

  A cry tore from her mouth when Arturo unsheathed his sword and ran. Rhiannon broke free of her father, praying to God the Spaniard wouldn’t strike Kaall down.

  In a swift motion, Kaall seized Brianna, shielding himself with her, just as Arturo reached for them. He couldn’t stop his momentum, and Rhiannon stared in horror as he stumbled into her cousin, the blade sliding within his ribs. ‘Brianna, no!’

  Her gaze flew to Kaall, seeing the shock and guilt upon his face. As a blind man, he’d only tried to guard himself against the attack, but the others wouldn’t understand that. He would bear the blame, if Arturo died. There was nothing she could do to save him.

  Her cousin stared down at Arturo, her face pale at the sight of blood. The bloody knife fell from her fingertips to the ground. To Rhiannon, she ordered, ‘Find your mother. We need a healer quickly!’

  Rhiannon didn’t remind Brianna that she was a healer, too, understanding that it was her cousin’s fear speaking. She reached out to try and stop the bleeding, insisting, ‘It wasn’t his fault. Kaall didn’t do this.’

  The stricken expression upon her cousin’s face transformed into fury—as if she’d suddenly guessed why Rhiannon had defended him. ‘How could you?’

  She didn’t have to say anything else for Rhiannon to understand her unspoken words. How could you love a man who took my husband from me? And now, Arturo had been hurt.

  Whether or not anyone else knew it, Rhiannon hadn’t missed the helpless pain upon Kaall’s face. He hadn’t meant for anyone to be harmed. And once again, by defending himself, the worst had happened.

  Rhiannon straightened and revealed the truth as she helped stop the blood flow. ‘He’s blind, Brianna. I promise you, he had no intention of killing Murtagh. It was an accident. A terrible one, but I can’t hold him to blame for it. Kaall defended himself from a man he couldn’t see.’

  Rhiannon held pressure upon Arturo’s wound, praying her cousin would somehow understand. ‘Forgive him, I beg of you. And me.’

  Brianna didn’t answer her for a long time. It seemed that a year’s worth of pain and resentment stretched between them as she reached out to touch Arturo’s cheek. The man’s dark eyes centred upon her as she whispered, ‘I never meant for this to happen.’

  While the woman tended to him, Rhiannon sent a runner to find her mother. Though she was a skilled healer, Aileen was better. And though this wound appeared shallow, it was perilously close to his lungs.

  Whether or not he lived was out of her hands. She could only pray that Kaall would not suffer for it.

  * * *

  The chaos of sound blurred around him, until Kaall couldn’t tell if the man had died. A coldness seized within him, knowing that he’d inadvertently harmed someone else. Rhiannon’s voice had grown more distant, and the widow Brianna was pleading with the warrior to stay with her.

  Around him, he heard the sound of men gathering closer. If the Spaniard died, he had no doubt that the MacEgans would hold him responsible. There was no hope of ever getting Emla back now, not if he’d caused two deaths.

  And then there was Rhiannon. He’d heard her defending him, something he’d never expected. No one had ever stood up on his behalf—not even his family. They’d never seen anything beyond what their eyes revealed. Only Rhiannon had glimpsed the man beneath the surface.

  He’d expected her to turn away from him. Instead, she’d dared to fight for him. And although another man had bee
n hurt, he needed to somehow mend the breach. To give them a chance to be together.

  It was a risk, but he took a step toward the women, asking, ‘Will he live?’

  There came no reply at first, and he feared the worst had already happened. But then the widow spoke. ‘I hope so.’

  Fear lined her voice, but there was still anger toward him. There was no way of knowing if he could gain forgiveness, but he dropped to one knee, in the hopes that Brianna MacEgan might come to understand.

  ‘Rhiannon didn’t mean to betray anyone. I know what I am and what I’ve done over the years. I deserved to lose my sight.’

  ‘Kaall, no.’ Rhiannon reached out to him, but he continued on.

  ‘She needs to know.’ If the MacEgans believed he was nothing but a murderer, there was nothing left for him. Not his daughter. Not Rhiannon.

  ‘There was a time when I could see blurred shapes,’ he admitted. ‘But when I raised my spear to defend myself that day, I never saw your husband.’ He bared the truth to her, even knowing that the words might not be enough. ‘I can see nothing. Not even her face.’

  All around him, the silence spread through the crowd. He remained on one knee, unable to know what was happening. But when Rhiannon reached out to him, he gripped her hand hard. Her quiet support meant everything.

  ‘I believe your words,’ Brianna said at last. ‘Perhaps we might...talk later. I need to tend Arturo now.’

  It wasn’t forgiveness, but neither did she condemn him. Rhiannon guided him to stand up, and she whispered, ‘Come with me. My mother will help to heal his wounds.’

  ‘I thought you would want to go with them.’

  Her hand tightened upon his. ‘My father is standing there, watching. And the soldiers of Laochre are all around us. I can’t leave your side.’

  ‘I’m not afraid to face him, Rhiannon.’

  ‘I don’t want you blamed for any of this. It wasn’t your fault. He needs to know that—’

  Kaall cut off her words, taking her mouth in a kiss. She was afraid for him, but this was one battle he needed to fight on his own. He claimed her lips, silencing her arguments. Against them, he murmured, ‘If you want me to leave you and never return, say the word, Rhiannon.’

  He tasted the salt of her tears against his mouth, taking her face between his hands. It might be that this was the last moment he’d ever hold her in his arms. Her bravery was unlike anything he’d ever known. And if there was any hope at all that he might spend his life with her, he’d give up everything.

  ‘I don’t want anything to happen to you,’ she whispered. ‘I couldn’t bear it.’

  He broke away from her, and took her hand in his. ‘You’re worth fighting for, Rhiannon.’

  When the men closed in, she was pulled away from him. The soldiers took his wrists and forced them behind his back, while he heard her cry out, ‘Kaall!’

  A motion in the air caught his attention, but the soldiers prevented him from dodging the blow that caught him upon the jaw.

  ‘Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now for touching my daughter,’ came a deep voice.

  He had no doubt it was Connor MacEgan speaking. Kaall turned toward the sound, meeting the man squarely. ‘Because I intend to marry her, if she’ll have me.’

  ‘If you think I’ll let a murderer anywhere near Rhiannon, you’re mistaken.’

  ‘I murdered no one. I defended myself, just as I would defend her if she were mine to protect.’ With all of his strength, he broke free of the soldiers and faced down the MacEgan. ‘I would fight for her until the last breath left my body.’

  ‘And you think you’re able to guard her? A man who cannot see?’

  Every sense went on alert, and the air shifted as another blow came. He threw himself to the ground and the man’s fist caught him on the shoulder instead of the face.

  Rhiannon cried out, ‘Da, no, please!’

  But Kaall rolled away, dodging another blow. He understood that this was a test, that Connor MacEgan would never let him near his daughter if he couldn’t defend himself. A hand caught his wrist, but he twisted, bending the man’s arm with all his strength. Perspiration beaded upon his forehead as he held the man at bay, until MacEgan was forced to release him.

  ‘I don’t need eyes to know that you want a better man for her than me,’ Kaall said, raising up his hands as he judged where the MacEgan warrior stood. ‘But I’m not like the others who will cower before you.’

  ‘She deserves better than you.’

  ‘I won’t argue that. But it’s her choice to make.’

  ‘Cease the fighting,’ came another man’s voice. Kaall recognised it as another of the MacEgans, their brother Trahern, who had often visited among the Lochlannach of Gall Tír. ‘Connor, the Hardrata chief has something to say that may be of interest to you.’

  Kaall halted at the mention of his father. He had no doubt that Vigus had come to intervene once more. His father had never believed him capable and could not see past his blindness. Bitterness rose up within him, but he held his silence.

  ‘I came to speak with the king,’ Vigus said, moving forward until he stood at his side. Whatever his father’s intentions were, Kaall held no faith in the man. Not after all he’d done.

  ‘For what purpose?’ Connor interjected.

  ‘Several months ago, I brought a young girl here to be fostered. I believed it was best that Emla be raised by others who could take care of her. And I had her taken away from Kaall.’ His father rested his hand upon his shoulder. ‘It was wrong of me, and I ask that she be given back to him.’

  He’d never expected this from Vigus. Not after all the years of distrust. Though he couldn’t see his father’s face, the man’s grip tightened upon his shoulder.

  ‘I know the girl you speak of,’ Connor said. ‘And she is expected to arrive soon with Sir Ademar and Lady Katherine. All of the MacEgans and their families will be here for the Christmas celebration and for Liam’s wedding afterward.’

  The tightness of hope seized up within Kaall at the possibility of seeing Emla again. He wanted so badly to be with her again, to know that she was happy.

  But Connor’s next words stopped him cold.

  ‘I offer you this, Lochlannach. If I arrange for the child to be returned to you, you will leave Rhiannon and never see her again. Your daughter...in exchange for mine.’

  Chapter Six

  Fury tore through Rhiannon at the thought of her father manipulating her like this. She couldn’t speak, she was so angry with Connor for forcing Kaall to make such a choice. It was wrong, and she intended to stand up to him.

  But then she saw Kaall’s face. His emotions were cool, shielded as if he’d expected such a bargain. Rhiannon felt her own breath catch in her lungs.

  Her heart was breaking apart, for she knew that no matter the hours they’d spent in each other’s arms, her father had offered Kaall a bargain he couldn’t refuse. How could she imagine that he would choose her over the daughter that could have been his own flesh and blood? It would never happen.

  Even so, she crossed through the people until she stood before him. ‘Is this what you want, Kaall?’ Her voice came out in the barest whisper, even though she saw the resolve in his eyes.

  ‘What would you have me answer, Rhiannon?’

  And she knew. God help her, she knew what he would choose. But she admitted the truth.

  ‘I want to stay with you. I would have married you,’ she confessed. ‘But I know the choice you have to make.’ Standing on tiptoe, she pressed her mouth to his in a last kiss. Against his ear, she finished, ‘I hope she brings you happiness.’

  But his hand caught her wrist. ‘Do you think so little of yourself?’

  Startled, she gazed at him, not knowing what to say.

  His hand moved to her waist, and he pulled her so close, she was in his arms. Rhiannon held him tightly, burying her face against his chest. ‘If you want me, there’s no man who will take you from my side. Not even him.’<
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  She was openly weeping, unable to believe what she was hearing. Her father was staring at them, a hardened expression on his face.

  Kaall bent low to her face. ‘You gave me light. And taught me how to see beyond my eyes.’

  Rhiannon kissed him lightly, her heart filling up with love. ‘I will stay with you. No matter what anyone else says.’

  She turned back to Connor and saw the resignation in his eyes. Pulling free of Kaall, she went to his side and reached for his hands. ‘You were hurt, years ago.’ She held his gnarled hand that had once been crushed by an enemy. ‘And my mother loved you, despite what happened. She saw the warrior of strength beneath these scars.’ Lifting his hand to her cheek, she held it there a moment before he embraced her.

  ‘Could you ask any less of me?’

  * * *

  On the morning of their wedding, snow fell from the sky. It was just past dawn, and Rhiannon slipped from the castle, to one of the smaller dwellings where Kaall was staying with his father and the other Lochlannach men.

  She didn’t have to knock on the door, for he was already walking outside. When she approached and greeted him, his face brightened.

  ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ he admitted. ‘I was thinking of you and wondering if you would change your mind.’

  ‘No. But I did come to bring you a gift.’ Taking his hand, she guided it low, until he felt the grasp of a small child. Shock and joy spread over his face as he pulled Emla into a hug. The girl’s small arms locked around his neck, and she chattered at him in the Lochlannach language, beaming with delight.

  Kaall’s large palm smoothed back Emla’s hair, and he smiled. ‘I am glad you’re here, minn skatt.’ When his fingers caught upon the crown of holly she wore, he pretended to prick his fingers and groan at the pain. Emla laughed, kissing at his fingers until he swept her up in his arms.