A Warrior's Promise

by Donna Fletcher

  Bryce liked that the lad did not boast, he simply stated fact, but there was one more question. “And women?”

  Charles’s chin shot up. “What about them?”

  “Have you known many?”

  Charles stared at him, chewing at his lower lip.

  Bryce burst out laughing. “Your silence speaks loudly. You’re a virgin then.”

  Charles took offense. “What of it? What difference does it make?”

  Bryce went silent, his soft blue eyes turning icy cold. “It makes a difference. A lad who has never lain between a woman’s legs can do foolish things when the urge strikes. And if I choose to take you along on my mission, I need to know I can depend on you even if you have the urge for a woman.”

  “What about your urges?” Charles asked.

  “I’m a man with vast experience. I can control mine. You’re just a virgin lad who probably will spill his seed before you can even get inside a woman the first time you try.”

  “Are you sharing that from your past experience?”

  Bryce almost reached out and grabbed the lad by the neck. Then he could easily choke that stupid grin off his face.

  “You don’t have to worry,” the lad said. “I don’t want to just rut like most men do. I want to love the woman whose legs I settle between.”

  Bryce cringed. “That’s even worse.”

  “You have no use for love?”

  “Believe me when I tell you you’ll rut before you find love. And as far as love? There’s a time and a place for it; otherwise, it can rob your sanity and interfere with everything.”

  “You have loved?”

  “Good Lord, no.” Bryce almost choked, spitting the words out. “I have been spared, and I intend for it to remain that way until I complete the task that has been assigned to me.”

  “This task. You wish me to help you with it?”

  “The thought has crossed my mind.” And the more Bryce talked with the lad, the more he thought it could prove beneficial having him along. He was quick-witted, could run like the devil was after him, and if he was as good with a horse and bow as he claimed, then he definitely could prove an asset. Besides, if he was five-and-ten years, he was man enough to take on the challenge, gain the experience.

  One uncertainty haunted him, and so he asked, “Can you follow orders without question?”

  The lad’s hesitation gave Bryce his answer.

  “I do not know your nature well enough to answer,” Charles finally said. “You rescued me, but for a price, and now I owe you and must work for my freedom. I am obliged to obey you, but without hesitation?” Charles shook his head. “It would depend on what you ask of me.”

  Once again, Bryce admired the lad. He was brave enough to speak the truth, an honorable trait for sure. This lad was trustworthy. There was just one last thing to ask, and though he might be taking a risk doing so, he didn’t think the lad had any love for the present king, being he had been chased and threatened by the king’s soldiers.

  “Do you believe King Kenneth the true king of Scotland?”

  The lad studied him with cautious eyes and turned the question back on him. “Do you?”

  “I have my doubts.”

  The lad’s face broke out in a wide grin. “You fight for the true king, don’t you?”

  “Would you fight for him?”

  “Aye, I would,” Charles said, nodding vigorously.

  “Good; then you now know that anything I ask of you will be for the good of Scotland.”

  “What do you ask of me?”

  Bryce leaned forward and lowered his tone. “There is a spy in King Kenneth’s court, and news is that the king knows of his presence though not his identity. The information this person has learned is vital to the true king, and he must be found and rescued.

  The lad jumped up. “I will strike a bargain with you.”

  “A bargain?”

  “Aye, I will gladly help you with your mission; do whatever you ask of me, if you will help me with mine.”

  “You are on a mission?” Bryce asked surprised and curious.

  Charles nodded. “King Kenneth had his soldiers take my da prisoner, and I intend to rescue him.”

  “Sit,” Bryce said, “and tell me what happened.”

  Tears were close to choking Charlotte as she sat on the ground, but she swallowed hard and forced them to remain locked away. She had to show this Highlander warrior strength, or he would never agree to take her along in exchange for helping to free her father.

  “My father, Idris Semple, holds no allegiance to any particular clan. After mum died, we began to wander around Scotland. My da is a man of great curiosity, which has brought him great knowledge and with it a reputation that has caused problems. Many believe him a conjurer.”

  Charlotte paused, waiting to see if the mighty warrior would somehow display distaste or fear though she doubted he feared much. His strength was evident at a single glance.

  When he showed no reaction, she continued. “His only powers are his vast knowledge, but the king believes otherwise. One day, my da was on his usual early-morning stroll when he spied a troop of soldiers. He hurried back to the small abandoned cottage we had been occupying for a few months and insisted I hide in the woods. He feared they would do me harm.”

  “He knew they were there for him,” Bryce said.

  Charlotte wasn’t surprised at his perception. She had realized soon enough that the warrior was not only a man of strength but of intelligence as well, which was why she had to be careful, very careful. He was growing comfortable with Charles, the lad, even feeling him fit and worthy enough to help him with an important task. But if he discovered that she was Charlotte, the lass, she feared the consequences. Not that she worried he would harm her. He was an honorable man and would probably send her off somewhere safe, where she would be looked after and protected. And that would not do. She intended to rescue her da, and to do that, she had to keep her identity secret.

  She nodded slowly. “My father is not a big man. He is short, though spry, and has not the strength to fight off a pack of soldiers; nor would he. He would reason it a useless action and find another way to deal with them.”

  “He went without protest?”

  “Yes, he did, and all because of me,” she said angrily.

  “Yes, he did it because of you,” Bryce agreed, “but not to protect. Think, Charles. Your da is a man of reason. And therefore he knew that if you were not captured, you would make every effort to rescue him, as well you should. I would do the same for my da.”

  This was good. To him she was a lad honor-bound to family. Yes, her masquerade would serve her well though her heart broke recalling how her father had, in the most authoritative voice he could muster, ordered her to seek safety with a strong clan and not worry about him. How could he think she would desert him? They had argued briefly, for there was no time to debate the matter, and before they parted, she had sworn to him that she would not let him suffer at the king’s hands. She would follow and free him.

  “Then you will help me rescue him?”

  “I would be honored to help you and offer you and your da a home with my clan for as long as you like.”

  “Thank you,” Charlotte said, choking back tears that wanted desperately to break free. And those tears weren’t only because she was grateful for the help, but also the offer of a home. While she had enjoyed the many adventures she and her father had had, of late she had been longing for a more permanent dwelling.

  “Do you know where he was taken?” Bryce asked.

  She shook her head. “I followed but couldn’t keep up with the horses.”

  She couldn’t tell him the truth, that when the soldiers had disappeared from view, she had returned to the cottage. Quickly, she had shed her garments and slipped into her da’s. She had taken a knife to her long hair, chopping at it until she felt she resembled a lad, gathered a sack of food, and was soon following the horses’ trail. Her father had taught her
to track, and she had been glad she had learned well the task.

  “How far did you follow?”

  There was no reason to tell him that the troop had divided along the trail. And she, not having known which path her da was on, had chosen one to follow that had proven to be the wrong one. So she told him the point where the path divided.

  “It was near Loch Lochy, and I’ve had no luck in finding out anything about him since.”

  Bryce stood. “We have much to do. We must find out where your da is being kept and follow the leads I have discovered about the spy.”

  Charlotte scrambled to her feet. “Being small and thin, I can slip in and around places most cannot. I hear and see things while not being heard or noticed.”

  Bryce chuckled. “Good, for I cannot.”

  “You are a big one,” she said with a smile, recalling the glance she got of him while holding on for dear life to his leg.

  Bryce placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “Size does not matter.”

  Charlotte warned herself to hold her tongue, but she supposed she was too much like her father—curious. So she asked, “Then large bosoms don’t matter?”

  Bryce grinned. “Large bosoms matter, lad, they definitely matter.”

  It was good to know the warrior preferred large-breasted women. Her bosoms were barely a handful. It had taken only one strip of cloth to bind them. She had no worry that even if he discovered her secret, he would find her appealing.

  She was glad she had gotten a look at his privates. He was much too large, and she too small for them to fit. She didn’t know why she even gave it a thought. There were more important things to consider.

  Charlotte hurried along behind him, which didn’t help, the image of what lay beneath his plaid much too vivid in her mind.

  Chapter 3

  They had walked in relative silence for almost three hours. Charlotte could tell by Bryce’s drawn brow and few remarks that he was deep in thought. So she felt it wise not to disturb him even though she was anxious to inquire about their destination.

  There were more questions on her tongue, which she bit to keep silent, though for how long she didn’t know. She knew that the rescue of the spy was more important than that of her da, but she trusted the Highlander’s word that he would help her. She wondered if he had a plan or was just formulating one or perhaps adjusting it to include her father.

  Then there was her worry of keeping up with him. While his powerful strides were not fast, they were anxious. And he did not allow the rocky and hilly terrain to deter him. She, on the other hand, accustomed to traveling leisurely on foot, taking time to not only regard but learn from her surroundings, found the pace fretful.

  How would they ever take notice of anything if they did not slow down and observe? What if there were signs they were missing? The thought that a broken branch, a misplaced rock, a footprint could help direct them finally had her losing her patience and stopping abruptly.

  “Where do we go?”

  Bryce did not glance back; he kept walking. “A small village about a day’s walk.”

  Charlotte hurried up beside him, taking two steps to his one. “Why?”

  “I’ve learned that the king’s soldiers have been more active than usual in a particular area and that someone in the village might know the reason why. It’s also not far from Loch Lochy.”

  He needn’t say more; Charlotte was pleased that he was also considering her da.

  “We’ll find you a bow and arrows while there. What of a dirk? Can you handle one?”

  “Fair enough,” she said.

  “Your father taught you the use of weapons well.”

  She grinned. Her father had insisted she learn the rudiments of handling a dirk, for her protection. And as for her skill with a bow, it had come easily, and her father had encouraged her as he always did. Knowledge, he had told her, gave one self-worth. And he had been right. She had the confidence to take on this task, and, while her ruse could eventually pose a problem, she’d find a way to handle it.

  “We’ll find a spot to bed down for the night, preferably by water. It’s been a while since I had a dunk and could use one.” Bryce shot her a glance. “You could use one yourself.”

  Charlotte just grunted. There was no way she was shedding her garments, and as for the dirt and grime? They served a purpose. If she scrubbed herself clean, she’d have the fresh look of a pretty lassie, or so she’d been told by a few warriors in the various clans where she and her da had taken temporary shelter.

  She hadn’t encouraged them, not being at all interested. Her father had suggested she at least converse with them, see what it was she liked and disliked in a man. She hadn’t bothered to tell him that with one look she could see that not a one was for the likes of her. While she admired strength and bravery in a man, she also looked for intelligence. Not that all the men who had approached her were dim-witted, they were fairly intelligent from the little she could tell of them. They simply were not interesting, unlike Bryce who, from the very moment she had latched onto him, proved appealing.

  The thought gave her a start, and she almost tripped over her own feet. She glared at his broad back, her eyes traveling down the length of him, refusing to let her musing wander where it wanted to go, between his legs.

  Between his legs.

  Her cheeks flamed red, and she shook her head. Whatever was the matter with her? Where were these sinful thoughts coming from? She had barely laid eyes on this man—she almost groaned aloud. She had to stop thinking about what she had seen.

  He was no different from most warriors. Now there was a lie for sure.

  “Something wrong?” Bryce called out, not turning to look at the lad. “You’re grunting and groaning back there.”

  She bit at her bottom lip, silently chastising her foolish rumination and upset that she had unknowingly been voicing her annoyance.

  “Nothing is wrong,” she snapped.

  “Getting tired?”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted, though her legs were beginning to ache. She had covered a lot of land, at a far different pace, not only since early morning but since her father’s capture a week ago.

  “Good, for we have much land to cover before we stop.”

  She groaned inwardly.

  “I heard that.”

  “You couldn’t have, I kept it silent.”

  His laughter warned she had been duped.

  “I can match your pace,” she insisted.

  “You’d better”—he laughed again—“for I don’t want to be forced to carry you.”

  She hurried her steps, not doubting for a minute that the large Highlander would easily fling her over his shoulder and be done with it. What then? Would he discover her secret?

  She wouldn’t take the chance, and so, tired legs or not, she kept in stride behind him.

  Bryce gave a slow stretch to the sky. “A perfect spot.”

  Charlotte dropped immediately to the ground, wanting to moan aloud with relief. They hadn’t stopped once to rest, and she wondered where Bryce got his stamina. Not only did her body ache, but she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep. Even though the sun would not set for well over two hours, and her stomach protested in hunger.

  “Let’s have a dip before we eat.”

  Charlotte’s head shot up to see Bryce already stripping off his clothes. “The stream is not deep enough for a dip or a dunk.”

  They had walked along the bank for some time, Charlotte hoping with each step that Bryce would stop. She could tell at a glance that the water might reach above her waist though not his.

  “A splash then,” he said, his garments tossed to lie beside his sword.

  She couldn’t help but stare at the spread of muscles across his broad back and how it tapered down to form a nice round, taut backside. And then there were his long legs, thick with solid muscles. Lord, he was a fine specimen of a man.

  He turned around so fast that it startled her, and she jerked b
ack. Not a good reaction. She was, after all, a lad and should be accustomed to the sight of a naked man.

  Lord have mercy, he was one well-endowed warrior.

  Eyes up. Eyes up, she warned silently. She obeyed her frantic command with haste.

  “Disrobe and join me. You need a good washing.”

  The words shot out of her mouth. “I’m too tired; besides, the air has chilled.”

  Charlotte felt her heart pound wildly as he advanced on her, and she scrambled back.

  “A little chill won’t hurt you,” he said, stopping much too close.

  She fought to keep her eyes on his, a nearly impossible task since her face was even with his—

  Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it, she cautioned herself repeatedly.

  “I’m not dunking,” she said, cringing and thinking of an entirely different dunk.

  Bryce bounced down on his haunches, and she was grateful that their faces were now level.

  “Charles, you may be a wee bit of a thing and need to grow sturdier into manhood, but do not let that stop you from doing manly things.”

  Bryce bounced up so fast that the rest of him bounced a mere inch from her face. Thank the Lord he turned around as quickly.

  “Now come and join me.”

  Charlotte almost sighed aloud. For a moment, she had feared he would reach out and strip her. She was relieved for the distance he put between them. And she watched with even more relief when he entered the water and saw that it was deeper than she had thought.

  It swallowed him to his waist and brought another sigh to her lips that she released aloud.

  Bryce waved her in and for a fleeting moment she once again worried that he would force her to join him. But she was quick to realize he would not cause the lad embarrassment. If he had intended that, he would have done so already. He had given her due respect, leaving the decision to her though still encouraging.

  The more she learned about this warrior, the more she liked him. And that alarmed her. Never had she found herself drawn to any man, and here, within only a few hours, she found that she liked this one. This was neither the time nor place for such frivolous thoughts.