Pledged to a Highlander

by Donna Fletcher

  He rode fast and hard. They couldn’t be that far ahead. Firth might think he tricked them, but he doubted the man would take a chance. He had probably ordered some of his warriors to lag behind and that had him slowing his horse. The Beast was soon beside him, exactly what he had wanted.

  “Firth probably left warriors along the way to deal with us and I can’t spare the time to fight them when my wife lets her wound bleed so I can track her.”

  “Keep riding, my warriors will see to it, but know that I ride directly behind you,” the Beast said. “I will not lose my sister.”

  “Something we both agree on,” Royden said and once again took off. This time not intending to stop until he caught up with Oria.

  Several of the Beast’s warriors rode past him and it was only a short time later that he passed three dead bodies tossed aside to leave the path clear. He kept going, thinking only of getting to his wife, glancing down to make sure he followed the blood trail and with every sizeable drop of blood he saw he worried that his wife wouldn’t survive.

  Royden pushed the horse harder and when they broke out of the forest into a field, he spotted them. His wife was flanked by two warriors and Firth rode in the front. The Beast’s warriors were busy taking down more of Firth’s men. He had to get to Oria. He had to reach her before Firth realized he couldn’t escape them and he made Oria suffer for it.

  The Beast was suddenly beside him, two of his warriors passing them. They would dispose of the two warriors flanking his wife.

  “Your choice,” the Beast shouted to him.

  Royden understood. Firth or his wife. There was no choice to make. “My wife.”

  The Beast gave a nod and rode past him.

  Royden went straight for his wife and when he saw her body slump to the side, then pop back up again, he knew she was fighting to stay alert, stay on the horse.

  Royden was grateful when the Beast’s warriors got rid of the two warriors to either side of his wife with ease. The warriors followed along behind the Beast as he went for Firth, who had taken off when he had seen his plan collapse. It left the area open for Royden to reach his wife. He saw that she was trying to slow the horse down, but he doubted she had any strength left to do so.

  The horse did begin to slow some and that made it easier for him to do what he needed to do as soon as he got close enough.

  Jump!

  He landed behind her, his arm going around her waist to rest her back against him. “I’m here, Oria. I’ve got you.”

  “Royden,” she barely whispered and her body went limp against him as if knowing she was finally safe and could rest.

  He slowed the horse and brought the animal to a stop. He yanked her tunic up to grab at the hem and ripped off a piece, then wrapped it snugly around her wound, and couldn’t help but wince when she did.

  Oria fought the darkness that was slowly devouring her. She had to tell him before it was too late. She couldn’t die without telling him one last time. “I love you… always.”

  Her head lolled to the side and her body felt as if it drained of life. Fear slammed into him. “You’re going to be all right. You must be all right. I can’t lose you, Oria. I won’t lose you.”

  He turned the horse around as a horrific scream pierced the air.

  Firth was kneeling on the ground, staring at his arm that had been severed from the elbow down, the Beast standing over him the blade of his sword stained with blood.

  Firth pleaded desperately with the Beast. “Please. Please. I’m sorry. Mercy! Please have mercy on me, I beg you.”

  Royden gave the Beast a nod as he rode past him. He was indebted to the man. Without his help, he feared Oria might have been lost to him. Realizing that, he knew he’d have no choice… he’d have to make peace with the Beast.

  Another horrific scream filled the air and Royden thought how right Trevor had been. Firth would suffer far worse at the hands of the Beast than he would have with him, and he was glad for it.

  Royden yelled for help as soon as he entered the Clan MacGlennen village. People came running when they caught a glimpse of Oria lifeless in his arms. They helped him get her off the horse and he held his wife snug against him as he took the keep stairs two at a time, someone holding the door open for him so he could rush inside.

  “Wren!” he shouted, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

  He hurried up the stairs, recalling that Demelza had gone into labor. Oria needed Wren, Demelza would have to wait. Not knowing where exactly Wren would be, he shouted out her name as he climbed the stairs.

  “Wren! Wren!”

  Parlan’s worried face greeted him on the second floor and his eyes shot wide seeing his son clutching Oria. “Good, Lord, what happened?”

  “Wren, Oria needs Wren,” Royden said and she suddenly appeared. “You have to help her, Wren.” He heard the plea in his words and he would continue to plea. He would do anything to save his wife.

  A gasp came from the open doorway and Demelza hurried over to Royden, her hand on her rounded stomach. Her pleas were even stronger. “Help her, Wren, please help her. Don’t let my sister die.”

  Wren remained calm in the chaos that ensued. She had Royden follow her to a bedchamber and ordered Demelza back to her room. The woman refused, following them.

  Royden didn’t want to let go of his wife. He feared if he did, he might never get to hold her again, but he did as Wren ordered him to do and placed her on the bed. His da’s firm hand on his shoulder eased him away, leaving Wren to tend his wife.

  “You need to return to your room,” Wren said to Demelza.

  “No. You said I had time yet. I will stay and help you with my sister while I can.”

  Wren turned to Royden.

  “I won’t leave her,” he said, knowing Wren would tell him to leave.

  Wren didn’t argue. She went to work on Oria while keeping an eye on Demelza.

  “Royden.”

  It was a soft plea, but Royden heard it and hurried to his wife. When he saw how bad the wound was to her arm his gut wrenched. He took her hand, Wren giving him room to get close.

  “I’m here, Oria,” he said, squeezing her hand.

  “Don’t leave me,” she pleaded. “I want your face to be the last one I look upon before I die.”

  “You’re not going to die,” Royden ordered as if he commanded it so.

  “Your husband is right,” Demelza said. “You won’t die. We won’t let you.”

  Oria wanted to believe that, but she had known the risk she took with leaving a trail of her blood for her husband to follow. And feeling as she did, as if life was slipping away from her, she found it difficult to believe death wasn’t hovering nearby.

  Royden’s eyes went wide, a sudden thought striking him. “You’re not going to die. Wren saw us having many bairns. You are going to live and we’re going to have lots of bairns. Right, Wren?” He turned pleading eyes on the woman.

  Wren ran a tender hand over Oria’s brow as she spoke to her. “I think that’s already started.”

  Royden was stunned and Oria smiled weakly.

  “I wasn’t quite sure, so I didn’t want to say anything yet,” Oria said and looked to her husband. “I wanted to be sure when I told you that I carry your bairn.”

  He pressed his brow to hers. “The first of many precious bairns to come.” He looked to Wren for her to confirm it.

  “Your healing will take time and it won’t be easy, but you have a loving husband who will do anything to help you and that makes all the difference,” Wren said.

  “Anything. I’ll do anything,” Royden hurried to say. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

  “You may need to hold your wife while I stitch her wound.”

  Royden nodded, though his stomach clenched even tighter knowing the pain she would suffer. He brought his wife’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “I’m here with you and here is where I will stay until you’re so sick of me, you will chase me away.”

  “Never w
ould I chase you. You’re where I want you, beside me,” Oria said, her smile appearing a bit stronger.

  “I will help too,” Demelza said. “And how wonderful that our children will grow, be close, like brothers and sisters.”

  Oria turned, surprised that her sister was there. “You need to be in bed. You’re about to have a bairn.”

  “I will know when it’s time to seek my bed. For now, I help you,” Demelza said.

  “It’s time to get to work on Oria, then we’ll see about delivering that bairn,” Wren said.

  They all got busy following Wren’s every word. Parlan directed the servants in getting whatever she requested, even running off at times to fetch things himself.

  Demelza worked with Wren, doing whatever the woman instructed her to do and that included taking time to breathe through her labor pains.

  When it came time for his wife’s wound to be stitched, Royden pressed their clutched hands to his chest to hold her firm and rested his brow to hers. He talked softly to her about their future together, hoping it helped to distract her from the pain. It pained him to see tears roll down her cheeks and feel her hand squeeze his with what strength she had. He wished a faint would take her so that she didn’t have to suffer so. But she was a strong woman and fought gallantly.

  Never was he so relieved when the ordeal came to an end for her and he felt her body ease with relief.

  Demelza was helping Wren wrap the wound when a strong pain struck her and while she attempted to muffle her cry, it was still heard.

  “Time for you to return to bed,” Wren ordered.

  “What are you even doing out of bed?” Trevor demanded from the open doorway, looking with alarm at his wife.

  “Helping my sister,” Demelza said. “And don’t think to order me to bed.”

  “If you won’t listen to me,” Trevor said with a glare, “then one word to your brother, who waits downstairs, should do it.”

  “He’s here?” Demelza asked, a touch of fear in her voice.

  “He waits to hear about both of his sisters, and the birth of his first niece or nephew,” Trevor said.

  Oria clutched her husband’s hand tightly. “I don’t want to meet him yet.”

  “You don’t have to,” Trevor said, hearing her. “Whenever you’re ready will be soon enough.”

  Another pain struck Demelza and she grabbed her stomach as she let out a cry.

  Trevor didn’t wait, he rushed over to her and scooped her up in his arms.

  “I’ll be right with her,” Wren said, and with a nod Trevor hurried out of the room. She turned to Parlan. “Can you get that brew I asked the kitchen to keep ready?”

  Parlan nodded and went to do as she asked.

  Wren hurried around picking up bloody towels and cloths and dropping them outside the room along with the buckets of dirty water.

  “A servant can do that,” Royden said.

  Wren shook her head and came to stand by Royden and looked down at Oria her eyes so heavy with exhaustion she lost the battle to keep them open. “Oria needs rest, and I don’t want a lot of people in and out of her healing room. She cannot travel until I’m sure the wound does well and no fever shows itself. Four to five days at least. Now I must go and see to Demelza. Call out if you should need me for any reason. Give her some of the brew that Parlan returns with, but rest is what Oria needs now.”

  Royden remained by his wife’s side and when she woke hours later it was to the news that Demelza had delivered a son and that the Beast had taken his leave, assured that both his sisters did well.

  It was later that night when all were asleep, the keep silent, Royden still at her side that Oria woke.

  “Do you need, Wren?” he asked anxiously.

  “We never sleep apart,” she said softly and winced when she attempted to move and make room for him.

  “Don’t,” he ordered quietly and gently eased his hands under her to move her enough so that he could join her, and he did. Once in bed, he settled her gently in the crook of his arm and she slept once again.

  He didn’t. He still feared losing her and now their bairn. He had placed her so that his one hand would be free to help her if needed and he placed that hand on her flat stomach. He worried that he still may lose the both of them and that he couldn’t bear. He fell asleep begging God to keep them both safe.

  Chapter 31

  Three months later

  * * *

  “You’re not doing this alone. I’m here with you and this day had to come eventually. You couldn’t delay it forever,” Royden said, keeping hold of his wife’s hand and feeling her anxiousness.

  “I know, but how do I accept them as my parents when all I’ve known are the parents who raised me?” Oria asked, looking in the distance at the approach of several riders.

  “You don’t.”

  Her brow wrinkled in question.

  “You don’t need to accept these people unless you want to. What matters is that you give them a chance. Give yourself a chance,” Royden said.

  Oria smiled at him. “I do believe I will keep you now.”

  Royden laughed. “So you changed your mind about getting rid of me after I told you that your parents were arriving today?”

  “Actually, after I finished arguing with you and stomped out of the Great Hall like a petulant child, your da explained to me it was you who made certain my parents didn’t come to visit until today. That you argued endlessly with Trevor over it and the Beast himself. He told me it wasn’t until you were satisfied that I was completely healed, even though Wren had claimed me sufficiently healed to receive visitors weeks ago, that you would allow this meeting to take place. So forgive me for arguing with you when it was you who allowed me time before having to face this moment.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive, Oria. I only did what I knew you would want, even if you’re too stubborn to admit it at times,” he said with a grin.

  “Stubborn, you say?” she said with a playful jab to his chest, reminded of how good his hard chest had felt waking up on this morning.

  “Aye, you insisted on making love when you still hadn’t fully healed.”

  She laughed softly. “You expected me to wait until I was fully healed?”

  He laughed as well. “Actually, I was counting on it that you wouldn’t.”

  Oria gave her husband a quick kiss. “I do so love you.”

  “And I you,” he was quick to say.

  They stood side by side as the horses approached. Oria was glad the Beast wouldn’t be among them, having been called away on an important matter. She wasn’t ready to meet him and didn’t know if she ever would be, no matter how many times her husband reminded her that he had helped save her life.

  Oria gripped her husband’s hand tighter as he guided her down the stairs to greet the group that came to a stop there. She was shocked to see just how much she resembled her mother, their blonde hair and green eyes the same color, their faces almost identical if it wasn’t for the scar she carried. Her father was a tall and broad man with shocking white hair that fell past his shoulders and a white beard and moustache. His eyes were dark, far too dark to Oria’s liking. Her da had dark eyes, but there was a pleasantness in them that she didn’t see in this man.

  Demelza was all smiles and hurried to Oria as soon as Trevor helped her off the horse and took their sleeping son, Aric, from her. She waited until her parents dismounted, then quickly introduced them.

  “Oria, our mother and father,” Demelza said, nodding to each.

  “Your proper name is Astra,” the large Norseman said.

  “Thorald,” the woman admonished. “There is time for her to learn her true name.”

  “We’ve wasted enough time, Freya. She is our daughter and needs to know that,” Thorald chided.

  “My name is Oria, and I am pleased to meet you, Freya, and, Thorald,” Oria said, letting them both know she wasn’t ready to call them mother or father.

  Anger rose on Thorald’s face an
d he went to step forward.

  Royden quickly stepped in front of his wife. “I gave you the courtesy of inviting you to our home to meet your daughter. If you intend to make demands of her in any way, then take your leave and don’t return here.”

  “Astra was taken from us,” Thorald said, his voice bold and loud. “We were robbed of her all these years.”

  “And you will be robbed of her forever if you think to command her like a daughter you have raised all these years,” Royden said, his voice just as bold and more strong than loud. “And while she is your daughter, take care to remember that she is my wife.”

  Freya placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “We are pleased that our daughter has such a strong husband to protect her.”

  “We’ll still see about that with him having only one hand,” Thorald argued.

  Oria almost rushed around her husband to remind Thorald that it was his son who had done that to her husband, but stopped when Demelza spoke.

  “We should go inside and talk,” Demelza suggested with a cautious smile.

  “You will hold your tongue, daughter,” Thorald ordered with a shake of his finger at her.

  Trevor went to step forward, but Oria had had enough and she sped around her husband to come to a stand in front of Thorald.

  “You do not command Demelza or me and do not dare ever remark about my husband having only one hand since it was your son’s fault he lost it. And if you think I will ever call the likes of you Father, then you are a fool.” She turned to Demelza. “Bring your son and while he sleeps, we’ll share a brew and talk.” Oria waited until Trevor handed their son to his wife, then she turned to Freya. “You’re welcome to join us, Freya.”

  Freya stepped forward to follow.

  “Don’t you dare go with them,” her husband ordered.

  Freya turned an angry glare on her husband. “I lost my daughter once. I won’t lose her again.” She followed her daughters into the keep.

  “Do something about your wife,” Thorald ordered Royden.

  Royden laughed. “I’d say my wife is much like her father. So you go try and defy her.”