The Warrior's wager

by Mia Pride

  ***

  “Something is not right.” Alastar looked over at Eoin and quirked a brow at his companion’s abrupt statement.

  “Aye?” Alastar replied, wiping his face with a linen square and putting down the axe in his hand. The wood he had chopped sat beside him in a neat pile. He had been so focused on the task, losing himself in the simple physical work of chopping wood, he had allowed his mind to wander and did not notice the approach of Eoin or Jeoffrey.

  “Aislin just walked past your house and went into the forest,” Jeoffrey explained as if that was not a daily occurrence. “And you did not speak to her or even pay her attention. You did not even notice.”

  His heart beat erratically in his chest. Aye, he had noticed. He had noticed her every day since she had found him with Janice. Four days had passed, and it had taken a disciplined restraint to honor her wishes and leave her alone. She had made it clear she was disgusted with him. He knew when a lass was a lost cause. Though it pained him to let go of the dream of a life with Aislin…the only dream about a lass he had ever dared to consider, he was a wise man and knew when to cut his losses. After their confrontation in the middle of the village four nights past, he had gone home alone and drank ale until he fell into a deep, numb sleep. He knew he had done naught wrong. How could the lass turn him down repeatedly, then act as if he had personally scorned her when he sought physical relief from another woman? Why did he feel like he had lost something he never even had?

  Still, he cursed himself for his lack of will power. If Aislin was his, he knew his eyes and his heart would never stray. But she was not his, and a man had needs. And now, he had no chance with Aislin and felt like a bastard every time he thought of finding a lass to comfort him. The worst part was that his need for comfort, for the first time in his life, went beyond simple pleasure. He was lonely. He sought companionship. But he knew instinctively that only one lass could give him what he truly sought, so seeking it with any other lass was futile. He had not so much as stepped foot in the gathering hall since that night. It was like the lass had walked away from him and, in doing so, had taken all that mattered to him with her.

  Realizing his mates still hovered over him, clearly expecting a response, he shrugged and grabbed a jug of water he had placed next to the logs, taking a long pull of the cool liquid. “She told me she was not interested in me. I’m not a fool. I know when to back away.”

  Jeoffrey balked at that and Alastar scowled. “Bollocks. Something happened between the two of you.” Jeoffrey crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Aye. She came home in a temper the night we told her to apologize to you. She said you were occupied and then she left the house,” Eoin added. “What happened?”

  Alastar groaned and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He really would prefer to keep his humiliation to himself. And why was humiliation the dominant emotion he was feeling? He was not prone to that emotion. He should be irritated that his plans to plow Janice had been ruined. He should be annoyed that Aislin always pushed him away and made him feel like a bastard for doing as she wished by seeking his pleasures elsewhere. Where was this cursed humiliation coming from? Mayhap because the person who meant most to him in this world had seen him in a precarious position and judged him lacking.

  “Well?” Jeoffrey prodded, poking him in the shoulder.

  “Did you just poke me, mate?” Alastar grunted and felt a small smile form in the corner of his mouth.

  “Aye, I poked you. You are being evasive and… unlike yourself. We know something happened.”

  “Aislin has been in a foul mood, more than usual, and refuses to say aught to any of us. Something happened and my sister, who pretends to not be affected by you, is overly-affected.”

  That caught his attention. His heart skipped erratically in his chest. She was affected? “Truly?” Alastar asked, perking up for the first time in four days. He sat up straight and looked between Jeoffrey and Eoin expectantly.

  “Och. You are a blathering besotted fool, Al,” Jeoffrey said wryly. “Never thought I would see the day.”

  A snort escaped Alastar’s nose. Those words coming from either of these men in front of him were ironic. “Says the man who cannot be away from his wee wife for more than an hour without checking in on her. And you, Eoin, who does the same.”

  “My wife is with child!” Jeoffrey said incredulously.

  “And I have a wee babe!” Eoin added defensively. “What’s your excuse?”

  Alastar smirked at his mates. Eoin wanted to know what his excuse was? Why he was so besotted with Aislin? Alastar wanted this conversation to end and knew just what to say to make that happen. “Well, your sister has a shapely arse, firm thighs, high perky br–”

  “By the gods, Al! I did not need to know that.”

  “You asked why I am so besotted,” he smirked triumphantly. In truth, it was so much more. Her smile, though rare, was enough to light up the sky and shine like the stars above. What everyone else saw as a temper, he saw as a passion to live her life the way she saw fit. Her determination humbled him. Her fierce love for her family made him long to be a part of it. She made him want to be a better man. That thought made his heart skitter. He had not thought on that until this moment. That explained his humiliation over being caught with Janice. It was because he wanted to be a better man… for Aislin. He wanted her to look at him and see a man worthy of her love, not a fickle man, as she had called him, who would accept any lass into his bed if he was in the mood. That was who he used to be… not anymore.

  “Al. What happened? I do not understand why my sister is so distant. Did she find out about the wager? Which, by the way, I have refrained from killing you over only because I can see you truly care for her.” Alastar flinched just thinking about that foolish wager. He still had not even broken it off with Àdhamh. It had nothing to do with his ego and everything to do with his foolish hope that he could still make her care for him.

  With a sigh, Alastar wiped his sweaty chest down one more time before bending over to retrieve his tunic. “When she found me in the gathering hall, I had Janice on my lap.”

  Jeoffrey’s eyes narrowed. “Is that all?”

  He shook his head. “Nay. Janice had spilled ale all down her breasts and—”

  “And you did what you always do. Buried your face into her bosom.”

  Alastar threw his hands up in exasperation. “I had a large set of breasts in my face… dripping with ale! I used my tongue to clean them up,” he shrugged. “Any man would do the same. Tell me I am wrong,” he said with a quirked brow.

  “So, you were caught being a typical man in front of my innocent sister,” Eoin laughed. His laughter grew in intensity until he was bent over wiping tears from his eyes. “Now I understand why she is so cross!”

  “She made it clear she has nay interest in me earlier that day! I have not been with a lass since arriving home to Ériu. Was I wrong to finally accept the attentions of a lass who actually wanted me?” Alastar asked incredulously.

  Eoin snorted one last time and wiped his eyes again. “Nay. You just have bad fortune.”

  “Terrible timing,” Jeoffrey added with a nod and a chuckle.

  “Aye. And now she finds me disgusting. Told me I am a fickle man, like all the others. And we have not spoken in four days.”

  “I will speak with her,” Eoin nodded.

  “Nay, do not! Do you not understand your sister at all? She wants to be treated as a woman, Eoin. She does not like you and your family always telling her what to do, where to go, how to feel. You cannot force her to see reason. I will handle this situation. On my own,” he emphasized.

  “Whatever you say, mate. It is not as though she will listen to anything I have to say, anyway. I’m off.”

  “To check on your wife and daughter?” Alastar said with a laugh as Eoin scowled and blushed slightly.

  “Aye, and mayhap if the babe is sleeping, I can make love to my wife,” Eoin waggled his brows.

&nb
sp; Watching his friend closely, Alastar looked at Jeoffrey and winked before deciding to goad Eoin into a deeper blush. “Och, I still remember when I stood witness to the wedding of Jeoffrey and your wife.”

  “You are an arse, Al,” Eoin said with a scowl, then shot a stern look at Jeoffrey as he strode off toward his house.

  Alastar laughed but Jeoffrey whapped him upside the head. “Why did you go and say that, Alastar? The man was just starting to like me!”

  “Mayhap I needed you both to stop focusing on me and focus on your own issues,” he said with a grunt. “That is what you get for stealing the man’s bride last year, and that’s what he gets for trying to intervene on my business with his sister.”

  Jeoffrey smirked and shook his head. “Fair enough. Now I am off, and aye… it is to check on Clarice,” he winked and strode off, leaving Alastar all alone, once again. He would show Aislin he was a man worthy of her trust. He was not certain how, but he knew ignoring her was not the way to achieve his goal.

  Chapter Three

  A sennight had passed since she last spoke with Alastar. She had asked him to leave her alone and he, surprisingly, had complied. It was exactly what she had wanted. Well, not exactly. Mayhap a part of her had hoped he would continue his pursuit, to prove he was not truly the fickle creature she had accused him of being. Perhaps she had wanted, for the first time ever, to be proven wrong by a lad. But nay. She had been correct all along. She was a lass who caught his eye for a brief time and then he moved on to more willing lassies, as he should. There was no sense in him pursuing her, after all. She had no desire to further a relationship with any lad and he clearly did not see her as worth the pursuit.

  The truth, as she had begun to see a bit more clearly this past sennight, was that it was not lads that bothered her. It was not even marriage that turned her off so. It was the thought of marrying a man who did not understand her core nature, who could not accept her as she was. If she found a man who allowed her to be herself, she may be open to a courtship. Only recently had she become aware of this change in her heart. And if she was honest with herself, she would admit it had been the excitement Alastar had created every time he was near, every time he looked at her with those beaming blue eyes, every time he flashed his perfect smile or ran a hand through his dark blond hair.

  As much as she considered herself different from the other lassies in the tuath, the reaction her body had toward Alastar was much the same as all the others… and that was the problem. Mayhap if she knew how to behave around a lad, she would have shown her emotions more freely, bat her lashes at him, purposely swayed her hips or pushed her breasts out a bit higher, but that was simply not in her nature.

  With all the other women falling to their knees for him, coupled with Aislin’s recluse and evasive manners, it was no wonder Alastar had given up on her and moved on to a lass who openly responded to his advances. And yet, if that was the sort of man he was, a man who threw his favors into the wind and allowed any willing lass to straddle and grind into him while he licked her breasts publicly, then he was not the sort of man she could ever be with.

  It would be foolhardy to deny that she had intentionally pushed him away time and time again. She had gotten what she wished for. So, why did her heart hammer in her chest every time she had to walk past his home to go through her favorite part of the woods? And why did her heart sink to the pit of her stomach every time he was not outside his home chopping wood or, worse, when he was home, refusing to make eye contact as he stayed focused on his work? A sennight ago, Alastar would have stopped whatever task he was doing to try and catch her attention, start a conversation, or wrest a smile from her lips—even if she turned her back every time to hide the evidence of her amusement from him. Aye, despite her attempts, she had found his ready smile, open laughter, and quick wit intriguing. Now that it was gone, she rather missed it.

  With her trusty bow in hand, Aislin strolled purposefully through her village, eager to distract herself with her day’s work. The sun shone brightly above with a few clouds floating overhead. Birds chirped their morning songs in the trees and a small smile stretched her lips. Daniel had been bothering her less and less, making the hunt much more successful for Aislin. She had taken down an elk two days past and even though her heart always grew sad after the kill, she knew it was a necessary part of life, having to kill animals to feed her people. If anyone had to do it, Aislin trusted herself to do it carefully and with respect. Knowing she fed the men, women, and children of her tuath made her work feel valuable, but when she was not on the hunt, simply being surrounded by the creatures of the forest made her heart feel at ease.

  Just as she passed Alastar’s round shaped house on her right, a small twinge of disappointment hit her as she realized he was not outside his home again. Watching him during warrior practice was always an option, but she refused to be one of those drooling, fawning lassies watching her preferred warrior spar with the others. It also seemed to leave her vulnerable to the open stares and admiration of the many warriors she had no interest in. Spying Alastar in the wee early mornings outside his home had been her only genuine opportunity to discreetly watch the man, and only for a moment before she disappeared into the curtain of the woods.

  His door swung open with a bang and Alastar strode out of his home with naught on but a pair of trousers hanging loosely about his tapered hips. They hung so low, she swore she could see a small patch of golden hair just peeking out the top of them, glittering in the rays of the sun. His hair was still messed up from sleep and the thought of Alastar in bed sent a chill down her spine. Aislin stopped in her tracks. Her breaths grew heavier with every beat of her frantic heart. A knot of need intensified in her core.

  Bending over to collect a pile of chopped firewood in his arms, the muscles of his chest jumped at the strain and when he turned his back, she could see the very top of his firm backside where his trousers hung low. She had to swallow hard and struggle not to open her mouth wide and drool. She feared he would hear the pounding of her heart, but she could not bring herself to look away. The man was built like a true warrior. Aye, she had grown up in a family of warriors and shirtless men, so why did this particular man affect her in a way she had never known before?

  A log tumbled from the pile in his arms and landed on the wet grass. With a curse, Alastar turned and shifted all the logs under one arm, bending to retrieve the stray piece of firewood at his feet. That’s when he saw her. Like a ray of light from the sun, his eyes shone on her, causing her entire body to heat up from head to toe. Even from this distance, she could see the blue twinkle in his gaze and it reminded her of the river she often sought out, a place where she could find peace.

  And yet, it was not peace she felt as his gaze raked over her slowly, starting from her head, over her heaving breasts, down her long legs, stopping to observe the leather ties wrapped up her calves to keep her boots on tight, and then slowly back up her body until he settled his eyes on hers. To her dismay, his usual playful crooked grin and dimples did not flash in her direction. He looked apprehensive, obviously unsure why she was standing in front of his house, gawking at him while he simply gathered more wood for his hearth.

  She willed her feet to move in any direction. She did not care if she moved toward the forest, back to her house or even toward his. Instead, she stood frozen to the spot, incapable of stopping her own gaze from raking over his shapely arms, bare chest, and low-hanging trousers once more before his eyes grew wide. He had seen her open admiration and yet, she was not ashamed. She was a woman of eight and ten summers. Most women her age were already married with children. She was a young, healthy, available lass and before her stood a beautiful specimen of a man. She would not be ashamed of looking over-long. After all, it was just a look. She knew better than to ever take things to a more physical level, especially with a man as obviously virile as Alastar.

  Just when she thought he would open his mouth and say something to her, or finally bestow his winning s
mile upon her, he nodded in acknowledgment, turned his bare feet away from her in the grass, and slowly strode back into his home, using his hip to shut the door behind him.

  Her face flamed with what felt like rejection. That’s what that had been, right? She had openly shown her interest in him, though she had no intention of taking things further, but he did not respond in the slightest. Mayhap he had really given up on her? Mayhap she was not worth his time? Then another thought struck her. What if he had not been alone in his home? What if a lass was in his bed and he had come out here to get more wood so she would not be cold without her clothes on? Humiliation flooded Aislin. The very first time she allowed a man to see her staring at him like a piece of meat, he was occupied with another lass in his bed.

  You do not know that to be the truth, Aislin. She reminded herself. She only assumed that because he was such an attractive man and it seemed unlikely that a man of his prowess would spend his nights alone. Yet, she remembered with the acrid taste of envy, that it was not her business. He had wanted to share his nights with her, and she had pushed him away. And rightfully so. If she wished to avoid marriage and children, avoiding handsome men and their beds were of utmost importance.

  Realizing that she still stood in front of his home staring like a fool, she shook her head, took a deep breath, and did her best to push all thoughts of Alastar Mac Murray out of her mind. She had a job to do and if she wished the tuath to take her seriously, she had better focus her attentions and stay on task. Gripping her bow tighter in her left hand and shifting her quiver strap on her shoulder, Aislin forced her feet into motion.

  After only several moments of walking along the familiar path she had single-handedly created leading through the forest and directly to the river, she stopped and took a deep breath of fresh air. The sound of the river never failed to calm her nerves, and she needed calm now more than ever. Sitting on her favorite rock, she inhaled again and stared at the rushing water. A small fish jumped out of the water, its silver scales glistening in the sun, then it was swallowed up by the river once more.