The Warrior's Mission: A Celtic Historical Romance (The Warriors of Eriu Book 3)

by Mia Pride

  Swallowing hard, she urged her hands to stop shaking as she nodded, “I… I believe so.”

  “I am Mal Mac Rochride, leader of this camp. I hear my daughter is now married to your brother.” Maggie did not like the knowing glare in his black eyes or the slight curve of his chapped lips. His skin was ruddy from too much sun exposure and wind. A large nose with broken vessels adorned a rather round face, though his body seemed more muscle than fat. His leather vest covered the expanse of his chest and she shivered, remembering all the stories Elwynna had shared about her sire. He had not cared for her at all, aside from what use she was to his men. If he were so cruel to his own daughter, what might he do with Maggie?

  “Answer me, lass!” he boomed, causing her to shrink back a few more steps. Her back was against the tent’s wall now.

  Nodding, she answered, “Aye. ‘Tis true.”

  He cackled and rubbed his large hands together eagerly. “Your false king would not give me back my daughter. How fortunate I was to have Eoghann join my ranks and infiltrate your village. He knows your brother well and, while he was busy trying to find a way to bring my daughter back to me, he discovered it would be much easier to take you. Your brother is much too busy rutting with my daughter to pay any attention to you.”

  She knew he spoke to hurt her, but his words hit their mark. While Àdhamh loved her very much and protected her more than she cared for, he had been rather distracted with his new wife. It had been a lonely place to live, feeling like an outsider day in and day out… until she fell in love with Flynn. Now she understood why Elwynna always wanted to be in Àdhamh’s presence and why they were both so distracted. She was distracted right now just imagining Flynn’s embrace. She hoped she survived long enough to see Flynn again and tell him she would marry him, no matter what his circumstances were.

  “I am also most pleased to hear I caused your brother pain. He stole my daughter and if he will not give her up, then he will lose his beloved wee sister,” the man chuckled. “That you are the healer of Ráth Mór, well that only made this more interesting. I am most excited to see how far Tuathal will go to save you.”

  Looking her up and down, Mal grunted and stepped closer, running his knuckles down her cheek. She flinched and tried to turn away, but he gripped her chin tightly and forced her to face him. “You are a wee bonny lass. My men have not had the company of a woman in many moons, not since my daughter was taken from me.” He licked his lips and grinned, and his yellow teeth caused Maggie to grimace.

  “You are vile!” she shouted, shaking with rage. How dare he use his daughter so foully, and not care at all how he hurt her. “You used Elwynna!”

  Mal only shrugged, not releasing his grip. “Men are predatorial by nature, lass! They have needs, and they are much more loyal and hardworking when those needs are met! I never allowed a man to hurt her, simply sate themselves with her body. You think I am a terrible father? Mayhap, but I am a leader of men and know how to keep them happy. Since she left, the men have been restless. Och, they are loyal and will not abandon me, and for that, they deserve a… sweet reward.”

  “Nay!” Maggie slapped his arm as hard as she could, jerking out of his grip. Reaghan stood behind Mal with a look of warning on his face. Was he worried Mal would strike her, or worse? Well, keeping her mouth shut clearly was not helping her or preventing him from leering. “I know what men are capable of! I have grown up watching the women I love be used for the pleasure of men!”

  “Good. Then you understand why I must allow my men to seek their pleasure from you. Do not worry, lass, ‘tis not all my men, only a handful of my most trusted warriors. They will not hurt you… overmuch.”

  Reaghan cleared his throat from behind Mal and licked his lips before speaking. “My lord, Tuathal said if any harm came to Maggie, he would not give back your daughter. She must remain untouched or the deal is off.”

  Mal rocked back and forth on his heels, rubbing his beard with one hand. “He said if Maggie claims to have been harmed, he will not give us Elwynna, but I hear this lass is the best healer in Ériu. Tuathal will give me my daughter, for she is not worth what Maggie is worth. I believe Tuathal is bluffing. We can do whatever we wish with this bonny lass, and Tuathal will still give up Elwynna. After all, she is Àdhamh’s sister and from what I gather, one of his finest warriors is in love with her.”

  Maggie gasped at all Mal knew of her and it made her stomach clench painfully. Eoghann truly had reported well back to Mal, and now Maggie was a pawn in the games of men.

  “Och, I know all about you, lass. I know Flynn Mac Greine will do aught to have you back. Eoghann did well to bring you to me, mayhap he should have the first taste.” The man roared with laughter and Maggie felt panic rise in her throat. Her very worst fears were going to come true and she could not stop them.

  “With all due respect, my lord, Eoghann may have a turn, but I believe I deserve her first. I am the one who made the deal with Tuathal to get Elwynna back.” Maggie’s eyes grew wide at Reaghan’s declaration and she clutched her chest to try to stop her heart from beating out of her ribs.

  “Nay… nay…” she murmured, looking around for a way to escape, but she was cornered in the tent with two large warriors in front of her and two just outside.

  As if she had not spoken at all, Mal nodded at Reaghan’s request. “I care not which order you take her. Just make sure there is enough of her left for a few other men when you are finished.”

  “Aye, my chief,” Reaghan agreed; he stepped forward and gripped her arms tightly, pulling her to him.

  All of her will not to panic disappeared as her blood ran cold with fear. “Let go of me!” she wailed, struggling to get out of his grip. “Do not touch me!” She felt as if she may be sick.

  His lips crashed down on hers forcefully and she let out a terrified scream, clawing at his face. Mal only laughed with amusement before stepping out of the tent and telling the two guards to follow him to his tent. She was completely alone with Reaghan, fear gripping her.

  Suddenly, he released her. In outrage, she slapped him across the jaw so hard her hand stung. Rubbing his face, he did not seem angry or surprised by her outburst. “I just saved you, lass. We will not be bothered for some time. I am sorry I frightened you.”

  Crossing her arms tightly across her body, she moved away and shivered as all her pent-up fear finally started to come to a head. She truly thought he was about to violate her and it cause her stomach to churn as images of her own mother being forced and beaten filled her mind. “I just want to go home,” she sobbed into her hands, feeling relieved, frightened, and disappointed in her inability to stay calm or protect herself when it mattered most.

  “Tuathal will come for you,” Reaghan said with assurance. No words could say how terrified she was, so she only nodded and sat down on the ground, the earthen floor beneath her rear spreading coldness through her body.

  “Reaghan!” A loud voice bellowed from outside the tent. “We are under attack!” a man yelled.

  Turning to look at Maggie fiercely, he pointed a finger in her direction. “’Tis Tuathal. He came faster than I expected. Stay here.”

  Maggie only nodded. Where else could she go? She prayed he was correct and the men attacking were her people, not another clan fighting for power. The shouts of men filled the air outside, but she was determined to stay where she was. Being thrown into the middle of a battle was the last thing she wished for. She prayed Flynn was with the other men and that he would be safe.

  The flap of her tent opened and the overly large dark-haired guard from earlier crept toward her, a sneer on his face. His hand reached out for her, but she shifted quickly, avoiding his grip. He was a giant man and if he got his hands on her, she may not stand a chance, but she was slight and quick on her feet. Her heart beat wildly, but she remained vigilant.

  “Come here, lass. ‘Tis my turn to have ye.” He lunged for her again, and again she evaded him.

  “Should you not be helping
Mal fight?” Maggie questioned, trying not to sound as if her fear was choking her from within. In truth, she could hardly breathe through her panic as the warrior circled her like a vulture, waiting to devour its prey.

  “What? While you are in here unattended? Nay, lass. As I said, ‘tis my turn. We have more than enough fighting men to handle a small raid,” he scoffed.

  He stepped one way and she dodged, but he feinted and stepped back in the other direction, wrapping his huge arms around her small waist with a steel-like grip. She squealed just before all the air was squeezed from her lungs. His grip tightened around her middle with a crushing force, but she shot her leg out and connected with his shin.

  “Ow! Ye wee bitch!” The large warrior slapped her across the face with the back of his hand, causing her to reel back from the pain and scream in terror before he dropped her to the ground and bore his entire weight down on her. “Stop yer moving. Ye are only making this harder than it needs to be.”

  It all happened so fast, yet Maggie felt as if every heartbeat, every movement, was in slow motion as her mind switched from panic to survival. His rough fingers skimmed up her leg as he gripped the hem of her dress, forcing the fabric upward.

  Nay. She would not be this man’s victim. She would not allow a man to ever use her the way her mother, sister, and sister by marriage had been. Maggie had lived a life of torment, worrying about every glance from a man, preferring to stay close to her brother instead of facing her fears.

  Falling in love with Flynn had been the beginning of a new life for her. He had taught her that good men truly did exist, and he was the best man on earth. He had taken time out of his life, even while wounded and recovering, to teach her self-defense, dagger throwing, to face her fears… and to know true love for a man. The time to prove to herself that she was nobody’s victim was… now!

  Sliding her right hand down her leg, she leaned forward slightly, crinkling her nose at the foul smell of the man leaning over her. He must not have bathed in over a fortnight and his breath smelled of onions and garlic. But she needed to lean only slightly further to reach the dagger in her boot. Feeling the fine bone hilt with her fingers, Maggie carefully pulled the dagger out of her boot’s leather straps.

  With all her strength, she lifted her knees hard and fast, connecting with their target directly between the large man’s legs. With a howl of pain, the man loosened his grip on her, instead cupping his now-bruised bollocks and leaning over unsteadily. “You will pay for that!” he roared, but made no attempt to grab her again.

  Seeing her opportunity, she sat up quickly and pushed him backward with all her strength. She could feel the hard ridges of muscle beneath his tunic and knew she would never have been able to make him budge if he was not writhing in pain. Fortunately, he was so off balance by the unexpected blow to his nether region, he toppled over with a groan, still holding himself as he rolled into a fetal position.

  It was almost humorous to behold a full grown, overly-large man wail, and rock back and forth like a wee child on the ground, yet she had no time to further think on him. The sounds of shouting men and clanging metal had grown much closer since her attack and if she were to escape this man before he recovered, she needed to check her surroundings and run away without being detected.

  Just as she stepped up to the tent opening, the flap pulled open from the outside and she stepped back with a shriek, nearly plowing into a towering man. If one of Mal’s men found her in here and saw the man on the ground, surely they would punish her. Lifting her dagger high in a defensive stance, she was ready to strike if needed.

  The most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen stared back at her with intensity and she gasped with relief. “Flynn!” she cried and ran into his arms, clutching him around the neck and silently thanking the gods that he was safe and with her again. Brennain stood beside them and peeked into the tent. Seeing the man readying himself to stand once more, he nudged them out of the tent. “Good work lass, but we must keep moving!” he shouted over the sounds of reigning chaos.

  “I heard you scream. I fought my way from the entrance of this camp to get to you. Are you all right?” Flynn pulled back and placed his hands on either side of her face, narrowing his eyes as he inspected her for injuries. “Did he hurt you?” She knew he referred to more than just physical wounds.

  “Nay. He tried, but I… well, I kicked him in the bollocks.” She shrugged, much too distracted to think of a more proper way of saying it. Brennain grunted with amusement beside her and she could not help but smirk herself.

  “Good,” Flynn said, and he kissed her forehead before releasing her. “Come. Our men are taking this battle but with the darkness, ‘tis always hard to fight. I need you out of harm’s way before I can rejoin my men.”

  She had so many questions, so many things she longed to say. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him and thank him for always believing in her. If not for him, she would not have been brave enough to take on that man. But, most importantly, she wanted to tell him that she would marry him, no matter if he decided to travel for Tuathal in the future. Mayhap she could join him and they could seek a life of adventure?

  Before he could drag her further from the tent, her attacker came through the doorway and charged at Brennain. With the two men beside her engaged in a sudden brawl and with the darkness of the night, Maggie almost missed the gleam of a sword just behind Flynn as one of Mal’s men charged him from the back. Had it not been for the fire burning just to the left of the man, the metal of his sword would not have glittered in the light and caught her gaze.

  “Flynn!” she wailed, and pointed with her left hand. “Behind you!” It was too late. There was no way Flynn could turn and draw his sword quickly enough to defend himself against the fast-approaching enemy. Her stomach plummeted. Flynn would die trying to save her and she would be forced to watch it happen before her eyes.

  * * * *

  Maggie’s warning had him spinning on his heels and reaching for his sword, but as soon as he saw Mal’s man, he knew there was not time enough to save himself. He would never get to marry Maggie or have a family. He would never get the opportunity to tell her he chose her. He had already decided he would give up the life of an informant, traveling all over Ériu in search of Mal, if it meant he could be with her every day. If their king refused, they would leave and seek a life elsewhere, for no life was worth living without his wee bonny Maggie and her sweet smile. Nay, he would die here on this day. He only prayed Maggie would move on with her life, face her fears and find love. She deserved that.

  A dagger whizzed past his nose, the sound of its blade cutting through the air as it repeatedly arced seemed to consume him, despite the sounds of battle all around. All his senses were on high alert. The scent of pine wafted in the night breeze, the stars glittered brightly overhead, surrounded by the gray haze of clouds. The sound of the blade piercing the warrior’s flesh just before he roared with pain and toppled to the ground, only inches away from reaching Flynn. The man’s sword clattered to the ground and Flynn’s neck snapped back to seek the source of the dagger.

  Maggie. His Maggie. Her right hand still extended out in front of her as she watched the warrior fall. A swelling of pride for this woman hit him hard in the gut. She had saved him, and had she even hesitated for a split second, he would be dead. But he did not have time to thank her just yet. That would come later. For now, they needed to move.

  Grabbing her by the wrist, he pulled her through the chaos. “My dagger!” she hollered as he pulled her along behind him.

  “I grabbed it for you, lass,” Brennain said, trailing behind her, searching the area for a safe place to take her. “There, that cluster of trees. You can hide in there while we finish this.”

  Flynn pulled her into the edge of the forest where a thick cluster of pines formed a rather formidable wall. She would be safe here.

  “Nay. I do not wish to hide. I wish to fight,” Maggie argued, trying to remove his firm grip fro
m her wrist.

  “Absolutely not!” Flynn shouted before clearing his throat to soothe his voice. “You saved my life back there, Mags. You saved yourself from that man. I am beyond proud of you. But besides your one dagger, you have nay defense. That dagger cannot fight off a sword. I cannot allow it.”

  Brennain handed her the dagger and nodded. “I am sorry lass, but he is right. ‘Tis not safe. You must stay here.”

  “I will not! Why should I stay here, simply because I am a woman, while you risk your life? I think not!”

  Flynn opened his mouth to scold the stubborn lass for not understanding the ways of the world. She was a brave lass, but she was wee compared to these towering men. One dagger and a dose of bravery would not be enough to save her if a man was bent on attacking. Before he could think of a proper way to convince her to stay safely hidden, a loud whistle broke through the air, stilling all other sounds almost instantaneously. He knew that sound. ‘Twas the signal of their king, to stop fighting and put down their swords.

  “Mal has fled,” their king’s voice dominated the night. “Coward that he is, he left his men to fight in his stead, while he, Eoghann and a few other men seek out safety.” He spat into the earth and looked at Reaghan, who stood beside him. “This man is not the enemy. He is my warrior and is to be treated with respect. Anything he is guilty of, including holding the dagger to Maggie’s throat, he did to serve me in Mal’s camp. Aye?”

  A chorus of voices shouted, “aye,” in understanding. Maggie stepped forward and out of the shadow of the trees once she knew it was safe, but Flynn looked down at her and scowled.

  “Did Reaghan touch you?” Her eyes grew wide and even in the dark, he knew her suddenly diverted gaze meant he had. “What did he do to you? I will kill him!”

  Maggie grabbed his sleeve and pulled him toward her. “Nay! He saved me. He kissed me, but he had to—”

  “Had to?” Flynn roared, and stormed away from Maggie, ready to defend her honor, even if it meant disobeying their king.