Her Warrior Slave. Michelle Willingham
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bride felt that way.
‘Much can happen before Bealtaine,’ his mother argued. ‘There is no need to be married so soon.’
Iseult drained her cup, her hand tightening over the stem. If Neasa had her way, they’d not be married at all. It hurt to think that nothing she did was good enough. Never did the woman cease reminding Iseult that she was the daughter of a blacksmith and therefore unworthy to wed Davin.
‘It has been longer than I’d like,’ Davin replied. ‘Perhaps I’ll wed her at sundown tomorrow.’ He wrapped his hand around Iseult’s braid in a teasing gesture. Iseult answered his smile, but inwardly, she was wary. The last time she’d considered a marriage, it had ended in humiliation. It was hard to let herself trust a man again.
Her skin chilled at the memory of waiting alone with the priest, for a lover who never arrived. She’d been pregnant with his child, and he’d known it. So had everyone else.
Shame filled her, remembering the way her friends and family had stared at her. Murtagh had joined a monastery, rather than wed her. And didn’t that offer plenty of gossip for long winter nights, along with his babe swelling at her waist?
Neasa hadn’t forgotten about it; that much was clear. She believed Iseult was unworthy of wedding a nobleman. Yet Davin had offered for her, treating her as though she were a princess, instead of a commoner. The man loved her, though she did not understand why.
‘Davin, you will be chieftain one day soon,’ Neasa reminded him. ‘There are many responsibilities. Iseult has much to learn before she can be a proper wife.’
‘I will be leader only if I am chosen by the people,’ he corrected. Though he kept his tone even, Iseult saw the longing upon his face. He wanted to lead the tribe, and all knew there was no other choice but him.
Davin’s father Alastar interrupted at that moment. ‘Neasa, there’s no need to speak of me as if I’m dead. I am chieftain and will be for some time.’Alastar rose and stretched. ‘Come, Davin. I would hear your plans for Bealtaine.’
Iseult eyed the doorway with longing, but she hadn’t been invited to go with the men. Silently, she helped Neasa clear the plates away.
‘Is there anything else I can help you with?’ she asked, when she’d finished.
‘Yes.’ Neasa set down the clay jug of mead and regarded her. ‘You could refuse to wed my son, but I know you won’t do it.You’re too eager to wed a man of his rank.’
Iseult’s temper flared. The woman made her sound greedy, as though she were wedding Davin for his gold. ‘Davin is a good man. I intend to give him my respect and care.’ She bit her lip to keep from saying more.
‘He deserves a woman who understands how to be chaste. You’ve borne a child.’
‘A child who was stolen from me,’ Iseult argued. ‘You, at least, have your son standing before you. I know not whether mine lives or is dead.’
The wrenching pain strangled her heart, and tears swam in her eyes. Davin’s quiet presence had been a balm to her bleeding soul when she’d lost her son Aidan. He had comforted her in her grief, treating her with such tenderness, such love.
‘You understand a mother’s love for her child,’Neasa said, though her voice was a sharp blade. ‘And you know that I want what is best for him.’ She wiped her hands upon a drying cloth and added, ‘You could not possibly understand what it means to lead our people.’
Neasa was wrong. Though she might not be one of them, never did she fear the responsibilities that would become hers. Her only thoughts were to take care of Davin and to build a home with him.
‘I may not be a chieftain’s daughter,’ she acknowledged, ‘but I will do what is necessary to make Davin happy.’
Neasa shook her head. ‘It’s not enough.’
Iseult had endured her fill of the woman’s criticism. She walked quietly to the door and opened it. ‘It will have to be.’
She stepped outside into the cool darkness. Neither Davin nor Alastar was nearby, and she suspected they’d gone for a walk. Though courtesy dictated that she say goodnight to her betrothed, she continued walking towards Muirne’s hut.
What was she going to do when she was expected to live with Davin’s family? They would have to build a hut of their own, else she’d go mad. His mother would do everything in her power to undermine their marriage.
Iseult walked faster, releasing her anger with each step. Sometimes she wished Davin were not the chieftain’s son. She wanted a simple life, one where they could live in peace. Perhaps with children surrounding them. And Aidan, safely home again.
Above her, the moon hid behind clouds, and Iseult walked past Muirne’s hut, needing a quiet moment alone. She passed the gates of the ringfort, until she could no longer see the flicker of torches.
Sinking down into the damp spring grass, she calmed herself. The fertile scent of the land granted her peace.
‘You shouldn’t be out here alone,’ a voice said. She turned towards the sound and saw Kieran. He drew nearer, his profile shadowed by the light behind him. His black hair fell against his face, and he crossed his arms. Rough and wild, the locks cut against his cheeks, badly in need of taming. Though he said nothing, he kept watching her.
Iseult pulled her knees against her chest, suddenly uneasy. Not a guard was in sight, and outside the ringfort, no one would see them.
‘I wanted to be alone. And I’m fine, as you can see.’
Again, he remained silent. His arrogance reminded her that this man knew not the meaning of humility or servitude. Unlike Davin’s other slaves, he did not hide back in the shadows, nor keep his face averted.
Uncomfortable, she rose to her feet. ‘You aren’t going to leave, are you?’
‘No.’
‘Are you planning to try another escape?’It wouldn’t surprise her if he did. She wanted to see him go, to be rid of this anxious feeling that happened each time she was near him.
‘Not yet.’ He was biding his time, feigning obedience. Couldn’t Davin see this man for who he truly was?
Kieran continued walking towards her, moving as though he owned this land. As if he owned her.
It made her anger rise higher. If she wanted to take a walk, then she’d do it. She needed no escort.
Rising to her feet, she walked further until she was near the forest. It was as far as she dared travel.
Kieran shadowed her, keeping a slight distance back. But she knew that no matter how far she went, he would follow. His head turned as if watching the surrounding areas for danger.
But the only danger she felt was from him.
‘I don’t need a guard.’
‘Yes, you do.’ His voice resonated in the stillness, deep and commanding.
‘It’s not your responsibility to watch over me.’
Against the backlight of the torches, his silhouette merged with the darkness. Though his skin still held the sharp lines of hunger, she could not deny the strength in him. And beyond his unreadable expression lay such emptiness, it almost mirrored her own.
‘Perhaps not.’ His gaze lingered upon her face, as though he were trying to forge it into his memory.
The need to move away from him was so strong, she circled around, walking back to the ringfort. The hair on the back of her neck rose up in full awareness of Kieran. Though she didn’t turn to see him, she sensed his presence.
Once they were back inside the safety of the palisade, she glanced around. Before him, she felt exposed, as though he could look into her soul and see the vulnerability there.
‘Goodnight.’ Kieran