Protected By The Highlander (Medieval Romance)

by Veronica Wilson

  “And who stays behind to watch the women and children?”

  “It’s our first time really ruling together, if you’ll be smart enough to accept it.”

  ***

  Aila couldn’t argue that the men had some decent points. She didn’t like the idea of being left with no men for security; however, she could look into Dagmar’s sparkling blue eyes and already see his continuing plans. “You’re thinking about ransacking them, aren’t you?”

  “It would send the strongest message,” Dagmar replied.

  “You have to keep them alive, Dagmar, every single one of them. I can’t bear it if we lose anyone, not this close to the Solstice.”

  “I will, Aila. You know that.”

  She did, and that was the main reason she finally agreed that they should go. It stung more than she thought it would that she’d be sending her best friend and the man she loved to the front line to attack a village much like her own.

  “Don’t let the women and children get hurt.”

  “We won’t,” Dagmar assured her. “But we will defend ourselves, even against the smallest ones in Dunkerie.”

  Aila couldn’t refute the argument Dagmar gave, and eventually she relented and agreed that giving the Dunkeriens a taste of what they’d given was a wiser strategy than sitting around for them to do it again. Still, it was an uneasy move for her. Ruling over Hail had a nasty side she wasn’t so sure she liked. Perhaps having Dagmar with her wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  “When do you plan to leave?”

  “Dusk,” Dagmar said. “That way we’ll be in position come sunrise. While they attacked us at nightfall, we’ll get them before they’ve risen from their beds.” It was a good strategy, even for their small forces.

  “Bring them all home and include yourself.” Aila smiled. She kissed him soundly her power spreading over him like a blanket, and then said she’d meet him later that night. “Wait for me if I’m late. I’ll be there to see you off.”

  “I will,” Dagmar grinned. Aila spent the rest of the afternoon with Dragna, dividing up the smaller portions of meat and curing them. The jerky would be handed out to the families for snacks to hold over little ones between meals, or feed men who went hunting or fishing. As the sun began to set she remembered her promise to Dagmar and searched her tent for the talisman she was making. Grabbing it, she took the knife from her boot and hacked off a lock of her hair. Placing it inside, she sighed, cinched the talisman closed, and headed out to find Dagmar.

  She ran through the village and wound her way through the crowd that was eagerly bidding farewell to the men who were piling onto the ship. She called out for Dagmar, but didn’t find him immediately. Clutching the talisman in her hand, she walked over to the boat as it started to pull away from the shore.

  “Hurry up, Dagmar, damn you’re slow!” Bregnan teased.

  “I’m coming!” Aila heard Dagmar shout back.

  When she turned, though, her blood ran cold in her veins. Dagmar, her best friend, the man she loved, had been consorting with Asgurda, the daughter of Dufguss Bellanger. “Aila, I thought maybe you—“

  She didn’t speak. She couldn’t even hear him past the rushing blood in her ears. Her fist landed against his nose, radiating pain straight up to her shoulder. Cursing low and spitting at him, Aila turned to go before humiliation overrode the anger that swam through her system, hot and heavy. Hate didn’t begin to describe how she felt.

  “Aila! Dammit!”

  Even as he shouted her name, Aila kept walking. How had she been so stupid as to not see through him? The bloody bastard. Did he really think he’d get away with it, that she wouldn’t catch him? It just went to show that Dagmar wasn’t nearly as smart as he thought he was. Aila walked until her thighs ached and, finding herself deep in the outer woods of her people’s village, finally sat down. Thunder, rain and wind crashed over her village as the hurt oozed from her heart. Hot, angry tears coursed down her face as she took in the state of her hand. It was swollen profusely along her knuckles and making a fist was now impossible and brought enormous pain with it. An hour later the swelling was the same and her fingertips had gone numb. Sighing, she wiped her eyes and headed back to find Ragnic.

  “What brings you to see me, darling?”

  “I punched Dagmar in the face and think I injured my hand,” Aila said, ignoring the way Ragnic looked at her.

  “It’s none of my business, of course, but I for one had thought you and Dagmar were sort of dancing around each other.”

  “You ease my heart, Ragnic. Now I know I’m not the only foolish one in our village. Whatever it was Dagmar and I were doing, it’s over. I have no choice now but to split the village. Considering Dagmar isn’t here to argue the point, I’ll be moving my people with me across the land bridge. We’ll settle to the south of Hail.”

  When Ragnic remained silent, Aila went on. “I don’t doubt he’ll be ticked off when he gets back, as I’m pretty sure I broke his nose, but no matter what he says, you do what you think is best, even if that means treating both of our peoples.

  “Your hand is absolutely broken,” Ragnic laughed as he pressed down on her middle finger. Through the intense pain she heard a popping sound and felt some immediate relief.

  “This tea should help some with the pain. The longer you let it steep, the stronger the medicine gets. I’d steep this first pot for a good while. After that, rest. With all you’ve got going on, you’re going to need it.”

  Aila nodded her thanks, noting that Ragnic hadn’t said whether he’d follow her, or stay behind with Dagmar.

  Chapter Three: Degrees of Learning

  Dagmar pressed yet another strip of cloth to his nose and cursed under his breath. Inhaling deep, he pressed the broken bridge of his nose back in place. The curses ripped from his lips as blood poured through his fingers. Through his black eye he glared at Breslin Bulcher, who couldn’t for his own life stop laughing. “If we ever have to do hand-to-hand fighting after this, I want Aila on my team.”

  “Nah, brother,” Bregnan grinned. “We can’t afford her. She took down the mighty Dagmar in one swing.”

  “Shut up, Bulcher,” Dagmar growled.

  “Someone’s a sore loser. I tried telling you that Asgurda was a little loose.”

  “I wasn’t trying to do anything with her. She wanted to say good-bye. What was I supposed to do?”

  “And yet he still knows nothing about women. Aila, you twit, wants to be the only woman in your life. Jealousy is a powerful motivator. Aila, I would say, knows exactly how it feels as she’s green in the gills with jealousy over Asgurda. Not that anyone can blame her.”

  “So I should have been rude to her just to save face with Aila?”

  “No, but you could have answered Aila when she called for you instead of letting her walk up on you and Loosy Goosey.”

  Dagmar muttered something about women and their presumptions. Still, when the ship docked on the stretch of land that held their enemy, Dagmar was once again ready to pick a fight. Breslin and Bregnan, along with Svenbreck and Dufguss, would work their way around the other side while Dagmar took his group of ten men straight up the front. Two more groups would fan out and surround the village.

  “Just like we discussed, men. Keep the women and children out of it.”

  Dagmar stood at the locked gate to the Dunkerie clan and waited. An hour later, he heard the loud ram’s horn call and suddenly thirty torches were lit up around him and his men. Dagmar pivoted and drew his sword, clashing it against the strong iron of a man from Dunkerie. Even as he fought he could hear other swords locked in the same sort of battle.

  “Did ye think we’d be sleeping on our arses so you could just walk in and take our women and children, our homes?”

  “It’d be fair revenge for what ya did to our village you dirty bastard!” Dagmar said, anger pulsing through his pained nose. Fueled by fresh frustration, Dagmar bent down at the knee and swinging his sword out hacked into the man’s leg.
Blood sprayed across his chest, face and hair as the man fell down. Still, Dagmar had to defend himself against the wounded mans’ sword arm until he pressed a booted foot to his arm. “I’ll see you in the afterlife you lifeless asshole.” With that Dagmar drove the point of his sword into the man’s chest and twisted it until the man’s hand went limp.

  Hearing roars and shouts of pain all around him, Dagmar pushed toward the heaviest of the fighting to Breslin and Bregnan working to push back a swarm of men. “Use some help?” he asked, his blue eyes full of vengeance.

  “Some,” Breslin said as his sword swung up and hacked off a chunk of a man’s hand. The offender fell back, screaming. The threesome hacked and stabbed their way through the horde until they found Svenbreck and Duffguss. The two men were surrounded and easily outnumbered, but Dagmar had to give them points for not giving up. Even as his sword sliced through an enemy, he heard Dufguss yell. “Kiss my ass you bloody bastards!”

  Smiling, Dagmar helped his men even the odds against them until the men of Dunkerie finally decided to retreat. The call to fall back was music to Dagmar’s ears. Still, he knew if they didn’t make their statement, the men of Dunkerie would regroup and attack Hail the first chance they got.

  “We need to put these heads on pikes.”

  “Good idea,” Bregnan said. “Make them think twice about trying to attack our village again.”

  “Has anyone seen Svenbreck, or Dufguss?”

  “We’re here,” called Svenbreck, with a small wave.

  “Thanks for your help with that bit back there. We’d probably be less ourselves without you.”

  “We’re men of Hail and we stick together. Not to mention I promised Aila I’d bring you all home.”

  “Smart woman, that one,” Dufguss said.

  “Smart, beautiful, and a tremendous pain in my ass,” Dagmar smirked.

  “It’s your own fault she broke your nose boy-o, Duffguss laughed.

  “I’m thinking,” Svenbreck chuckled. “That Aila may be more woman than I was prepared to deal with. I wish you luck with her brother.”

  Battered and bloody, the men of Hail gathered up the extra weapons and any armor that was worth taking. They took the heads of the dead and made a long line of pikes to hold them. And just as the sun was reaching high into the sky for midday, the men of Hail set sail for home.

  ***

  Aila heard the calls and shouts of excitement as villagers went running toward the gates. She could only assume the men had returned from battle. Fresh anger had her up and moving as far away as she could within the confines of their village, even as she fought to keep the weather from going crazy. Her powers were wonderful, except for when she couldn’t control them. Her mother would have shown her how, if she’d lived. Aila was left to learn on her own and when she was angry, the weather showed it. She wouldn’t go outside the walls again today, but as the rain began to fall, she wouldn’t stay and watch Dagmar use his battle scars to woo Asgurda or any other female that showed the slightest interest.

  Walking quickly, Aila headed for the hot spring. Maybe a long bath would soothe away her bruised heart and kick the headache that throbbed in her temples. Stripping just as quickly, she dove into the spring, submerging her entire body in the warm, welcoming water. When she came up, however, she knew instinctively that she wasn’t alone.

  “I have nothing to say to you, Dagmar Stalson.”

  “Then you can listen,” Dagmar said, obviously ready to talk. “Whether you believe me or not, whatever you’ve cooked up in that brain of yours is a lie.”

  “I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand here and let you call me a liar!” Aila shouted, probably loud enough for the whole village to hear her. “You may have made a fool of me and allowed me to humiliate myself in front of our people, but you will not make me out to be crazy or at a loss of my mental faculties.”

  “You’re not crazy, and I wouldn’t try to make you sound so. I will tell you, though, that what you think you saw between Asgurda and myself never happened. We were talking, only talking. I was asking her if she could help me with a gift I needed to have ready for the Solstice.”

  “You asked Asgurda to help you with a gift for the Solstice?”

  “Yes. She’s craftier than she looks, and I needed her particular help with a present I had in mind for someone.”

  “Oh,” Aila said, feeling even more foolish. She could feel the anger seep out of her like the water rolled off her skin. Her once white eyes turned a stormy gray as the thunder overhead quieted to a lovely rumbling sound that posed no threat to Hail.

  “Aila, I know that in the past I’ve liked to collect quite a string of women. I can understand how seeing me with Asgurda would make you assume something that wasn’t true. I hope you’ll trust what you know to be true about me,” Dagmar said, stepping closer to her. “That I’d never intentionally hurt you.”

  Aila finally looked up into his clear blue eyes and saw the truth in his look. She reached up and cupped his face, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry I judged you; that my first inclination was to accuse you without even letting you defend yourself.”

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Dagmar smiled. “You know me better than anyone else. If anyone has the right to jump to conclusions, it’d be you.”

  “Does that mean you forgive me?”

  “Does this answer your question?” Dagmar grinned, and then she felt that wonderful mouth on hers. Passion ignited like a bomb inside her, exploding out along her nerves so that her whole body turned on. The rush of electricity along her skin was so strong that Dagmar jumped away from her. “There’s no chance of me being cooked to death in here with you is there?”

  “No,” Aila laughed. Pressing closer to him, Aila felt the hardness that had always attracted her. Dagmar’s muscles bunched when she laid her hands against him, trapping them between their chests. She could feel the tight tips of her breasts as Dagmar continued to kiss her senseless. “I’ve wanted you here, like this, for a while now.”

  “Hm,” Aila moaned. Her mind reeled, unable to focus on anything but how amazing her body felt. Dagmar pushed her back as he continued to spread warm kisses over her body.

  ***

  Dagmar knew this stunning woman. He knew her needs, her wants, and the things that got under her skin. Her wants were easy as well, considering they’d known each other since they were children. “Turn around for me.” She did as he asked, trusting him in a way no other woman truly had. With Aila he could be himself without the need to impress anyone. “Will you give yourself to me, Aila?”

  “What?” she asked, her mind already noticeably blurred by desire and arousal.

  “Give yourself to me, won’t you?”

  “Yes,” Aila chuckled. She turned in his arms again so that her beautiful gray eyes were visible in the high moonlight. “Why would you ask?”

  “Because I need to know that what we have is something I’ve never shared with anyone else, ever.”

  “Okay,” she continued to snicker. “Why are you being so off?”

  “You know I’m always sort of a goof,” Dagmar laughed. Then his arm slipped around her wet, naked waist and he groaned. “Right now, though, I’m very serious.” He took her mouth again, before she could comment. Seeing her steeped in blurry passion was a vision he liked very much. His tongue found her lips eager to let him pass. Her flavor punched him like a warriors touch and Dagmar growled as his blood began to heat. Most women he bedded got the always-on-fire Dagmar, but with Aila he could be himself. He could relax and enjoy the process instead of worrying so much about the finished product.

  Giving in to the need, Dagmar cupped Aila’s warm face, tilting her so he could press his warm tongue deeper. Her flavor rushed through him, igniting both a selfless want and a hungry need. When she met him with the same need, Dagmar let his fingers sink into her thick, dark curls. He tangled them there, tugging enough to pull Aila’s head back. He roamed over her jaw and n
eck as he worked other areas of her body. His hand wandered over her milky white breasts, teasing their tips until she moaned.

  Fueled by fresh arousal, Dagmar took her nipple into his mouth, suckling like a piglet. Gods, did she move against him though. Her trembling only served to heighten Dagmar’s resolve to please her. While he trailed a hand over her lithe torso, Aila’s body opened to him. Her legs moved anxiously the closer he got to her, as if her pussy couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Turn around again,” Dagmar whispered against her ear. “I want to open your eyes to new and beautiful experiences.” When Aila did as he asked, Dagmar ran a hand over her ass, enjoying the plump feeling of her backside. Bringing his palm down on her skin, he gave her a nice whack across her bottom. Her moan and consequent jump only served to fuel his need to fill her. Grabbing her hips, Dagmar pressed himself into the space between her thighs.

  “Do you feel my need, Aila, the way I hunger for you?”

  Her breathless response made Dagmar growl. One swift, hard thrust and he filled her fully, pressing his rock hard cock deep into her ripe pussy. Her swollen folds caressed him with each withdrawal and eagerly welcomed him again each time he took her higher. Using his fingers, Dagmar stroked Aila’s wet clit so that her moans grew louder with each thrust. He couldn’t wait to make her explode.

  Pressing her, Dagmar pulled Aila’s hips tighter against him, using short, stimulating thrusts to build her slowly. He could tell by the way she moaned, breathless and choppy, that she was so close. Leaning forward over her, he pressed kisses to the sensitive skin across her shoulders and neck. Dagmar held himself back, fighting to control his own need. He teased her breasts and clit in tandem, creating a rhythm that she matched with her body. Joining him in a way she previously hadn’t, Dagmar found a new side to Aila he liked very much.

  Feeling his own need come calling, Dagmar quickly gripped her hips and picked up the pace of his strokes, pulling her tight against him with each one, his cock filling her fully. Her breathing grew raspy as her orgasm swept over her, nearly knocking her off her feet. Dagmar reached around her waist to hold her up and tight against him as his own release spilled into her. In he aftermath of their lovemaking, Dagmar kissed her everywhere, relishing the feel of her wet, naked skin.