For his wife to ask that of him meant she knew how he’d respond and was concerned what could happen. Anger began to rumble deep inside him. “Tell me now.”
There was no keeping it from him. “He’s the one who gave me the scar.” Her eyes went to Firth.
“Is something wrong?” Trevor asked, approaching them.
“I have a score to settle with that man,” Royden said, pointing to Firth, a brawny man with dark hair and eyes.
“What score is that?” Trevor asked.
Firth stepped forward. “I gave his wife that lovely scar she carries during the attack on Clan MacKinnon and she was well deserving of it.”
Oria was surprised when her husband didn’t lurch for the man, but she did feel his body tense.
“So you admit you’re a coward,” Royden said loud enough for all to hear.
“I’m no coward,” Firth spat.
“Only a coward uses his weapon on a helpless woman,” Royden argued.
“She was far from helpless,” Firth said with a huff.
“She had a weapon?” Royden asked.
“No, but she fought like a wild banshee. Three of us couldn’t control her.”
Royden fisted his hand. “Three men and one woman who possessed no weapon and you don’t think yourself a coward?”
“She bit me,” Firth yelled. “Left me with a scar she did. He pulled back his shirt sleeve to prove it.
“So she uses her teeth to fight you and you slash her with a knife.” Royden glared at him. “Sounds like you’re a coward to me.”
Oria realized what her husband was doing. He was goading Firth into attacking him, giving him reason to fight the man.
Firth went to step forward, but Trevor’s sharp command stopped him.
“Enough! I will see to this matter.”
“And what will you do?” Royden demanded.
“That is my decision and one I will not explain,” Trevor cautioned. “Be satisfied with your small victory today, Royden, and take your leave.”
Oria feared her husband would ignore Trevor’s warning and then what? Her stomach roiled at the thought of what could happen to him here among their enemy. She was surprised and relieved when Royden responded calmly.
“Another time then.”
“Another time,” Trevor said, though the look in his eyes was enough to know that time would never come.
“Let’s go, wife,” Royden said and eased her away from him.
Oria should have known her husband would not be put off from retaliating, but it still came as a shock to how fast he moved. His dagger was out of its sheath and he slashed Firth across his face before anyone knew what was happening.
Firth roared out and stumbled, blood pouring from the cut that ran below the corner of his right eye down to his chin just missing the corner of his mouth. His hand flew to his cheek cupping it, the blood flowing around his hand and along his neck.
“If I ever see your face again, I’ll kill you,” Royden threatened and turned to Trevor as he slipped the dagger back into the sheath. “You would have done the same or worse if it had been your wife. But then your wife didn’t suffer through a battle. Now we’ll take our leave.”
Wren looked ready to step forward and help the man when Royden turned around.
“Don’t!” Royden commanded, taking hold of Oria’s arm and sending a scowl at Wren that had Parlan taking her arm and directing her to the horses.
Oria was glad her husband had hold of her arm, her limbs having gone weak, so shaken was she from what happened. She thought to protest when he lifted her in his arms and placed her on his horse, ordering one of the warriors who had accompanied them to take charge of her horse, but thought better of it. In his arms was exactly where she needed to be.
Royden held her close as they rode off and wondered if she even realized her whole body trembled. “He won’t hurt you ever again.”
Oria understood all too clearly. Her husband intended to see Firth dead. She thought to argue with him but realized it would do little good. She’d wait and talk with him when the time was right.
She did, however, voice another worry. “Won’t Trevor retaliate?”
“Firth isn’t worth a battle. Besides, from what I could tell of our visit, Trevor is here to establish a home for himself, or he never would have brought his wife along. He’s also here to try to build a modicum of peace with the locals and not cause any unrest.”
“In preparation of his arrival,” Oria said.
Royden nodded. “The man responsible for all that has happened.”
“Demelza told Wren she expects him and she worries what will happen when he comes. She says he wins at all costs. He’s already taken so much. What more is there for him to take?”
“That’s what we need to find out,” Royden said.
Royden left his bedchamber before Oria woke the next morning and went to the practice field. Anger had stirred him awake and the more he had laid there, the fouler his mood had turned. He didn’t want his wife waking to that nor did he want it to follow him throughout the day.
He practiced against an imaginary opponent. It was easy. All he had to do was recall in his mind the many battles he’d been in and the many opponents he had fought. He could hear the clang of the swords, the screams of the fallen, smell the blood, the sweat, the fear.
He stopped as if emerging from a nightmare, glad he had taken his shirt off, his chest damp with sweat and heaving from the strenuous practice. He’d been a fool to think raising a sword would calm him. It only angered him more like it had done after every battle he had fought. He was a Highlander and battle was part of survival, but not a constant as it had been the five years he’d been away.
A quick movement caught his eye and he looked to the section of woods that bordered the practice area on one side. The movement came again and with his sword clamped firmly in his hand, Royden went to see who was spying on him.
“Don’t come any closer.”
Royden stopped, recognizing the leper’s raspy voice and catching sight of his outline that almost blended in with the tree he looked as if he clutched.
“What are you doing back here?” Royden asked.
“I have messages that need to be delivered.”
“For who?” Royden asked.
“Other monasteries.”
“Then you best be on your way,” Royden said and turned.
“You fight well with only one hand.”
Royden turned around. “You watched?”
“It is not every day one sees a warrior with one hand swing a sword with such skill. It was good to see that the loss of a hand doesn’t condemn a warrior.”
Unlike the leper who was condemned no matter what he did. Royden couldn’t imagine how lonely life was for the man. No one would go near him. He would never feel a comforting touch or a hardy hug, or even share a meal with friends. He’d always be removed from others—alone.
“I did what I had to do to survive, just as you do,” Royden said.
“Aye, and both lives were forced upon us by evil hands,” the leper said.
His accusation had Royden thinking. “Fate would be the evil hand that touched you, and I have yet to discover the evil hand who touched me. In your travels, perhaps you heard of the man responsible for the attack on my home.”
“I’ve heard some about him,” the leper said and offered freely what he knew. “He’s a Northman, a Viking, a brutal beast. I suppose that’s why many refer to him as the Beast. I heard someone say his name was Wolf, but I don’t know if that was in jest.”
Royden thought out loud. “What would a Viking want in these parts? They’ve settled farther north. They no longer come to this region.”
“King David would disagree with you on that. His appointment of a Scot to be first Bishop of Caithness did not sit well with King Eystein of Norway. King David is foolish to think that King Eystein will sit idly by and do nothing while King David tries to regain the area for Scotland.”
“More land more power,” the leper said.
“True enough,” Royden agreed. “And the reason so many battle. What else do you know about this Northman?”
“Heard he’s a fierce warrior and demands that his warriors be the same. He also hates defeat.”
“He wins at all cost,” Royden said, recalling what his wife had told him.
“Defeat comes to everyone, one time or another,” the leper said, his throat growing raspier.
“Do you need a drink?” Royden asked, concerned for the condemned man. While he would spend the day with family and friends, the leper would go off alone… always alone.
“A gentle brew if you please. Ale hurts my throat or what’s left of it.”
Royden almost shuddered. He may have lost a hand but the leper’s body was being eaten away at each day.
“Wait here. I’ll get you a brew to take with you.” Royden went to the kitchen and in no time Bethany had one of the hide skeins filled with an herbal brew Wren had asked her to keep ready when someone was in need of soothing. She also wrapped food in a cloth and Royden returned with both to the leper.
“Place it on the ground just inside the edge of the woods,” the leper said.
Royden saw his hooded head peeking out from behind a tree and did as asked, then stepped a good distance away.
“Again I thank you for your generosity,” the leper said.
“As my wife offered and I agree, food and drink will be provided for you whenever you pass this way and if you should hear any more about this Northman—”
“I will tell you all I learn about him,” the leper said.
“Take care, my friend,” Royden said.
“You are a good man, Royden, and you have a good wife. May the Lord always bless you both.”
Did he hear the leper sniffle back tears? Royden’s heart went out to the poor man and recalling his name said, “Safe journey to you, Brother Noble.”
Royden walked away. It wasn’t until he got to the far side of the practice field that he glanced back. The food and drink were gone and so was Brother Noble.
He went to the rain barrel and washed the sweat from his chest and face before slipping his shirt back on. The village was just beginning to stir to life when he entered the keep. He hoped to find his wife still abed. He had a need for her that couldn’t wait. It was a deep need born of a love that had stirred, grown, and strengthened through the years, and would continue to grow ever stronger. He wanted to wrap himself around her, plant himself deep inside her, and join with her in that love.
His quick pace had him up the stairs in no time and he lifted the latch on the door as quietly as he could so as not to wake her—yet.
“Where did you go off to?” Oria demanded when he stepped in the room.
Royden had to smile. His wife stood by the fireplace, stark naked, her shift dangling from her hand, her blonde hair in wild disarray around her head and shoulders, and her green eyes sparked with a touch of anger.
Oria dropped her shift and reprimanded him as she approached. “Never do we leave our bed in the morning without waking the other. Never. Ever. Never!” she emphasized, shaking her finger at him. “What are you smiling at? This is not humorous.”
“You. You’re beautiful and I love you with all my heart,” he said and his hand hurried to the back of her neck to take hold as his lips came down on hers.
His kiss not only stirred her passion, but his words touched her heart, and she was swept up by the kiss that easily sent her desire soaring. Though, when the kiss ended she jabbed him in the chest.
“Don’t ever do that again—leave our bed without waking me—not the kiss. I love when you kiss me,” she said and rubbed his hard chest where she’d jabbed him.
He laughed. “You didn’t hurt me.”
“You hurt me by not waking me the usual way you do,” she said. “I sprang out of bed when I realized you weren’t here, fearful something terrible had happened that took you away.”
“I didn’t mean to worry you,” Royden said, his arm going around her and his hand, stroking delicately down along her cheek.
Oria shivered at his faint touch. “Well you did and I’ll have your promise now that you’ll never do it again.”
“You have my word, wife,” he said.
“Good,” she said and stepped out of his embrace and took his hand in hers, tugging at him as she walked toward the bed. “Now you will see to your husbandly duties that you failed to see to this morning.”
“Will I now?” he teased with a laugh.
“Aye, you will,” she commanded and when he laughed again, she gave him a shove that sent him tumbling down on the bed, which made him laugh even more. She crossed her arms over her chest. “We’ll see how much you laugh when I refuse to couple with you.”
Royden sprung up just enough to grab her arm and yank her down on top of him.
Oria tried to squirm free, but he held her too tight and besides, all her squirming was growing him hard against her.
“Still you grin at me,” she said, annoyed.
“Because we both know that you’ll never refuse to couple with me. I’m too irresistible to deny.”
Oria laughed, she couldn’t help it.
“And you’re too kind to make your poor husband suffer like that,” Royden said.
“He wouldn’t be the only one suffering,” Oria admitted. “I love the feel of you inside me.”
“I love being inside you.” His hand drifted down to cup her bottom and give it a squeeze.
“Then what are you waiting for?” she asked.
Royden rolled to his side, slipping Oria onto her back. His hand went to her breast to tease her nipple with his fingers as his lips touched hers playfully at first, but not for long since her response was more demanding.
His hand slipped down along her slowly, enjoying the feel of her soft skin before his fingers disappeared between her legs.
He pulled away from their kiss. “You’re more than ready for me.”
“I’ve been ready for you since I woke this morning, so do not keep me waiting or this will be done before you enter me,” she warned. “Now get those garments off. I want to feel you naked against me.”
He was all too willing to oblige her, moving off her to shed his garments when a knock sounded at the door.
“No. No. No,” Oria cried.
“An important message,” a servant called out.
“Go away,” Oria commanded.
“It’s from Arran,” the servant said and footfalls could be heard rushing away.
“Go!” she ordered frustrated, his brother’s message more important than coupling.
“No, wife, I’ll not leave you like this.” He spread her legs and dropped down over her, his shaft falling perfectly at her entrance. He plunged into her, knowing it wouldn’t take long for either of them to climax, though he was determined to see to a lengthier and uninterrupted coupling later.
Oria grabbed onto her husband’s arms, his quick thrusts bringing her rapidly to the edge of an explosive climax. She wished she didn’t have to let go. She wished she could linger a bit longer.
Later, she promised herself. Later they would linger.
Oria let go, digging her fingers into her husband’s muscled arms and releasing a shout she was certain the whole keep heard.
Royden joined her, though he let loose a quieter groan as he emptied himself into her.
Normally, they would have lingered, but any news from Arran was important, so they both were up not long afterwards. Oria rushed to dress and raked her fingers through her hair as they hurried out the door.
“Your da should hear this,” Oria said as they entered the Great Hall.
“I sent for him,” Bethany said, standing beside a table where a man, slim and of good height, though dirt covered and weary-worn, sat shoveling f
ood into his mouth.
“You have a message from my brother Arran?’ Royden asked.
The man nodded, his mouth stuffed with food.
His da and Wren rushed into the Great Hall, both appearing a bit disheveled and he wondered if their coupling had been interrupted as well. He shook the thought away, not wanting to think about it.
“What’s the message? Has Arran found Raven?” his da asked anxiously.
Royden wondered the same. All the inquires he had sent out about his sister came back with no news of her. They at least knew she was alive, but where had she gone? Where was she hiding?
“What word do you have from my brother?” Royden demanded.
The man took a swig of ale and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then slowly looked to each one.
“If the news is painful, then deliver it and be done with it,” Royden ordered.
The man was quick to oblige. “Arran can’t be sure, that’s why he’ll be later returning home than he had planned. He’s making more inquires.”
Royden shot him a scowl.
The man hurried to say, “Arran heard that Raven is dead.”
Chapter 23
Royden asked the man endless questions, most of which he couldn’t answer.
“I wish I could tell you more, but that’s all I was told,” the man said. “Your brother is cautious when discussing your sister and I don’t blame him. If the Beast is after her, he’ll find her, unless he already has.”
The pain on his da’s face tore at Royden’s gut. He, his da, and Arran had sworn to keep Raven safe and they had failed and continued to fail. And what had he done to find his sister? Sent out inquires? He should be searching for her just as Arran was doing.
“Arran says I’m to wait here for him,” the man said.
“Of course you will. You must be a friend of Arran’s or he wouldn’t have entrusted the message to you. You are most welcome here,” Oria said.
“I am grateful and the name is Halvor. I fought alongside Arran for the last two years.”
“Bethany,” Royden said and the woman stepped forward sniffling back tears, the news of Raven upsetting her. “Take Halvor to Angus and tell him to see Halvor settled.”
Pledged to a Highlander Page 22
