The King's Raven (Immortal Ireland Book 1)

by Kristen Cobb

  “Where is your favorite place to sleep?” The sound of the lid closing then the soles of her leather boots brushing against the wooden floor caught his attention.

  “Can I turn around?” She’d been in the process of taking her shoes off. Why were they back on?

  “Yes”

  Surprised to find her sitting on the edge of the bed still fully dressed he felt his brow furrow in anger. “Why are you still dressed?” She was supposed to be wearing his tunic and nothing else. Even he could hear the annoyance in his voice at the realization she still wore her own clothing.

  “Answer me please. This is my question of the day after all. Actually I am making that one of the rules. You cannot give one-word answers to questions of the day. You must elaborate until the other person is satisfied with the amount of information you have provided.” Nessa peered down at him, quite serious about the matter, telling him how it would be rather than asking.

  Conri could not stop the smile that spread across his face. He thought about the day she challenged Rory, the king of Ireland, without a moment’s hesitation. Rory’s comment about Nessa being the perfect mate for him also came to mind. She was fearless. Very few people were willing to challenge him, let alone order him about. “The top of this tower. I like to sleep up on the roof.”

  “Then that is where we shall sleep.” Nessa stood up, pulling two blankets off the bed. Walking over to the door, which took all of three steps, she threw the blankets down on top of the chest to free her hands. Making quick work of removing the wooden bar from the iron loops on either side of the door she set it against the wall. After opening the door she returned the blankets to her arms, turning back to look at him. “Are you coming?”

  There were so many questions running through his mind right now. Why would she do this? Did she normally sleep outside with Dermot’s men when on campaign? Had Dermot provided her with all the luxuries his own children enjoyed? If so why would she choose to sleep outside rather than in a warm and, according to her, incredibly comfortable bed? His body refused to move. “Why?” It was all he could manage to say.

  “You will need to be a bit more specific.” She was still standing by the door, apparently determined to follow through with sleeping on the roof of the tower.

  “Why would you want to sleep outside in the cold when you could be in a warm bed?” Her answer mattered a great deal. His eyes watched her reaction to his question intently.

  Nessa did not look away. Instead the intensity of her gaze matched his own, the warmth he was quickly growing accustomed to in their green depths. “Because I want to.”

  “Do you normally sleep outside?” He stood up, walking over to her, never breaking eye contact.

  “No. Never. Well, except for the nights I slept outside with you. I usually have my own tent with a cot when I travel with Dermot.” He could see her breathing deepen now that he stood so close their bodies were nearly touching.

  “Then why would you want to do it now?” He needed to hear her say the words, for you. It felt as if he were on the verge of jumping into the flames of a roaring fire.

  He watched her trying to decide what to say, could almost see her mind sifting through the possibilities. Then she started to panic, like a deer caught between a boulder and a hunter. In that moment Conri realized he was not the only one frightened by what was happening between them. Taking the blankets from her he blew out the candle. Silently wrapping his hand around hers he led her into the stairwell, pulling the door closed behind them.

  She followed behind him up the steep, uneven stone steps without saying a word. Forced to release her hand because of the narrowness of the passageway he pushed open the wooden hatch that led to the tower roof. After climbing out onto the roof he reached a hand down to help her even though it was an unnecessary gesture. The last step of the staircase led directly to the roof with no need to climb up out of the stairwell.

  Nessa placed her hand in his. Their eyes met and held as she stepped outside. The overwhelming storm of emotions in her eyes matched what he was feeling. Closing the hatch with his free hand he led her over to one of the tall crenelated walls.

  Laying out one of the blankets he sat down on it, leaning back against the wall. Taking off his sword and sheath he laid it on the edge of the blanket. The wind had kicked up a bit, making the night much cooler than the day. When she tried to sit next to him he pulled her down in between his legs, settling her back against his chest. He threw out the other blanket, spreading it over their bodies. The cold night air was instantly banished by the heat of their shared warmth. Nessa turned onto her side, laying her head against his chest. Conri wrapped his arms around her. There was nothing sexual about the moment. It meant so much more and they both knew it. Deciding to simply enjoy the comfort and warmth of her presence he closed his eyes.

  Conri groaned as Conor landed a blow to his side with the wooden sword. He could not even remember the last time that happened.

  “I find it difficult to believe Nessa would fall in love with such a horrible swordsman.” Conor grinned as he swung wide again, trying to get away with the same move twice.

  Fortunately he was ready, easily blocking Conor’s blow this time. A large man, the power behind the sword in Conor’s hand could do some damage, even a wooden one. His side would be black and blue by tonight. Conri imagined Nessa touching his side and seeing him wince in pain. She would then demand to know what was wrong. His mind began conjuring an image of Nessa raising his tunic to check for damage, being concerned that he had been hurt. While he was daydreaming Conor almost landed a blow to his shoulder, forced to try and block the blow from below because he did not see it coming in time to step out the way.

  Conor stuck the point of his sword in the dirt, leaning on the hilt with one hand. “You cannot possibly be this bad.”

  In his defense Conor actually was an excellent swordsman and he had other things on his mind. Like what to do about the woman who spent last night in his arms. It was the best night’s sleep of his entire life. Although they slept outside he’d been warm and comfortable under the blanket with Nessa curled up against him. He could imagine being out on campaign with her. There were very few women willing to share that kind of life.

  He wanted her beside him, not temporarily, permanently. That particular realization should be causing any number of emotions other than what he was feeling, happiness. Asking Nessa to be his wife just felt right. There were some problems to work through, his immortality, her loyalty to Dermot, Nessa declaring she would eventually betray him. In the end none of it really mattered. She belonged with him.

  Conri raised his wooden sword, a smile on his face, confident he could be more focused now. A certain peace came with making a major life decision, all of the agonizing emotional turmoil settled in an instant.

  “You look exceedingly happy for a man who just got beat so soundly.” Conor grinned while swinging his sword backhanded.

  Conri blocked the blow then spun around swinging at Conor’s legs, ignoring the goading statement.

  Conor slammed his sword down hard, just barely managing to avoid the hit. “That smile would not have anything to do with Nessa by any chance?”

  Conri ignored the question, forcing thoughts of Nessa out of his mind. This time he would not be distracted. Conri pushed Conor’s sword up and away, trying to lock hilts in the process and knock his opponent’s weapon away.

  Conor tried to fit two hands on the hilt of his sword to hold on. The second hand ended up on the pommel at the end of the hilt, his grasp on the weapon less than secure.

  Conri twisted the hilt of his sword around Conor’s blade attempting to dislodge it. Before Conor could recover Conri swung at his side, landing a solid blow.

  Conor grunted, wincing in reaction. There was no witty distracting banter now, only a man intently focused on his opponent.

  Conri tried to take advantage of the fact that Conor would need a moment to catch his breath before going on the offensive. Conri
locked the hilt of his sword with Conor’s, twisting his blade around while pushing up at the same time. Conor’s weapon flew from his hand. Conri pointed the tip of his sword at Conor’s midsection, claiming victory.

  Conor tried to stretch out his side but wound up wincing in pain instead. Suddenly Conor’s eyes seemed to focus intently on something. “Now that is a distraction I would gladly take a bruise or two for.”

  Conri turned around, following the track of Conor’s gaze, Alana, headed right toward him. Oddly enough, after spending last night with Nessa in his arms the sight of Alana hunting him down seemed little more than a minor annoyance. “She is ever so slightly out of her mind. Not a dalliance I would suggest.”

  “As if I could under the circumstances.” Conor continued intently watching Alana sashay toward them across the training field. Rory specifically stated that Conor’s freedom, or lack thereof, would remain completely at his discretion. There was no reason Conor could not have something resembling a normal life. Being locked in a room alone all day must be a horrendous way to live. “Do I have your word that you will honor the treaty?”

  “Of course. Why?” Conor’s focus shifted away from Alana, clearly confused by the question.

  “Give me your word that you will not try to escape and I can give you enough freedom to have some semblance of a normal life. The only thing you cannot do is cross that drawbridge to the outside world without me.” After spending the morning with Conor he had a new perspective on the situation. His instincts were telling him Conor MacMurrough was worthy of his trust.

  “I am not my father. You have my word.” Conor held out his arm.

  Conri grasped Conor’s forearm. “I will remove the guards from your door and inform my men that you are free to do as you please within castle grounds.”

  “I can see why my sister loves you. At least that is one thing I can stop worrying about.” Conor devoted his full attention to Alana as she reached them.

  Conor thought Nessa loved him. Conri considered last night, the fact that it had been her idea to sleep outside where he would be more comfortable. Was she in love with him? Convincing Nessa to remain with him would be a much easier task if she were.

  “Who is your friend? I do not believe we have met.” Alana was actually looking at Conor.

  “Conor MacMurrough.” He hated talking to Alana. His words always sounded harsh and impatient when he spoke to her.

  “The hostage.” Alana’s voice sounded surprised but her eyes said something completely different. She found it exciting, maybe even arousing.

  Conri wondered how Nessa would feel about this sudden new development. Alana had not even looked his way since sauntering over. She only had eyes for Conor. Nessa told him to find someone to divert Alana’s attention. Who could have known it would be Conor.

  Unable to find any of the plants she needed to help Anu’s husband Fergal the morning had not been a complete waste. A batch of the plant she used to stop bleeding was now drying in Marta’s cottage. Allister and Sedric followed her about the countryside on Conri’s orders, their arms filled with anything she found that might be useful. To their credit the pair did not complain once.

  Standing in Anu’s home Nessa watched Fergal walk across the room at a pace that would be considered slow for a ninety year old woman. He was an extremely large man, both in weight and height. Every step made him grimace. Allister and Sedric stood beside her, Marta already seated at the table. A rickety looking bed, bowed low in the center, sat in a corner of the room. The last bit of a peat brick burned in the hearth. Whereas yesterday had been unseasonably warm, today was much cooler.

  Anu’s attempt to help her husband by taking his arm was rudely rebuffed. Fergal pushed her hand away. His embarrassment and Anu’s obvious hurt afforded Nessa a glimpse into what their daily life must be like.

  Fergal promptly ignored his wife, speaking directly to her. “While I appreciate you trying to help we cannot afford it. The king’s physician made me a potion that helped ease the pain but eventually the potion ran out and so did our ability to pay. We do not even have enough cloth left to make it through the winter.”

  “I would not expect payment. Unfortunately it is too late in the year. I cannot find what I need. Had I arrived earlier I would have a supply dried and ready. Conri and I will still help with the harvest though.” Actually there was a chance she could help Fergal, using her powers. On the battlefield she used the earth’s energy to mend broken flesh and bone. Without knowing the exact nature of Fergal’s injury there was no way to know for certain if the magic would actually heal him. Moments like this were frustrating. What good were these amazing talents if she could not use them? Healing with her powers on the battlefield was one thing. She never used magic to heal at any other time, fear would likely outweigh their gratitude.

  “We will help with the harvest as well.” Sedric nudged Allister.

  “Goes without saying. Do not push me.” Allister narrowed his eyes at Sedric in what they all knew was a meaningless threat.

  “I do not want you using any of the material you have left to make me a dress. I am certain Conri would agree, your survival is more important. We will help with the harvest. When your situation has improved you can give Marta the material to make me a dress.” Nessa knew it would be important for their pride to have a plan in place for eventual compensation. Too bad she did not meet Anu and Fergal while Will was still in her life. Will and his father traded goods all over the world. Anu’s material would have fetched an excellent price. They would never have to worry about trying to sell her fabric again.

  “I have a bit of Anu’s material stashed away for just such an occasion.” A wistful smile crossed Marta’s face as she looked off into empty space. “It is only fitting I use it for your wedding dress after all that Conri and his father have done for me.” Marta’s eyes finally came to rest on her. The old woman’s mind obviously reliving past memories.

  “Conri’s father?” Conri specifically said he never met his father. Why would he lie about something like that?

  The wistful smile returned to Marta’s face. “Conri is the image of his father. Named after him too. His father and my husband were good friends. They both fought for Rory’s father, Turlough. When my husband was killed in battle Conri’s father looked out for me. Conri has done even more than his father now that I have been unable to work.”

  “You have seen Conri with his father?” Why would he lie to her about something that important? It made no sense at all. He volunteered the information about his family without any direct questioning from her.

  “No. Conri’s father eventually left us. Had a bit of the wanderlust that one. Many years later Conri arrived. Oddly enough Conri was about the same age when he arrived as his father had been when he left.” Marta seemed to have just made the connection right this moment.

  Nessa pondered the information for a moment, not entirely certain what to make of it all. It was a complete contradiction to what Conri told her. Perhaps he tried to find his father and ended up here. That seemed a plausible explanation. She never attempted to track down her own parents, would have no idea where to start, but could certainly understand the desire for answers. Perhaps this is where his mother met his father. The more she thought about that scenario the more it made sense. Having no family once they turned him out he eventually went looking for his other parent. Everyone wanted to belong somewhere. From the sounds of it Conri’s father had been a decent man. Too bad he left before Conri arrived.

  There was no way Conri lied to her. She trusted him without question. The pain in his eyes had been real when he talked about never knowing his father and his family setting him out on his own at the age of ten. She decided not to even question him about it. He’d given her no reason to doubt him.

  “Marta offered to make the dress from material she has stored away. I told Anu and Fergal we would still help with the harvest. You did promise to help. I assumed that offer would still stand even though sh
e is not giving us anything in return right now.” They were walking through the archway into the great hall.

  Conri nodded. “Of course. I am just sorry you were not able to ease Fergal’s pain. Aeneas’s greed is only surpassed by his arrogance.”

  “Rory’s physician?” She had yet to meet the man.

  “Unfortunately, yes. Speaking of the self-important swine…” Conri pointed toward the dais.

  Rory was seated at the table on the dais. Two men stood next to him, one speaking animatedly, apparently quite upset. Rory motioned them over the instant they stepped into the hall. Nessa leaned over, speaking quietly to Conri. “I am guessing this has something to do with me?”

  Conri wrapped his hand around hers in a silent show of support. “Aeneas will not like you cutting into his profits. My guess would be word has already reached him concerning what you did for Marta.”

  They continued walking toward the dais together. The agitated man to Rory’s right, who must be Aeneas, was now glaring at her. “Who is the other man standing next to Rory?”

  “Eachan, Rory’s advisor for all matters pertaining to Irish law, and Alana’s father.” Conri maintained a firm grip on her hand as they neared the dais.

  Conor and Alana were seated next to each other at the table in front of the dais where Conri normally sat. Conor stood up and walked over to them. “What is going on?”

  “Nessa treated a woman in the village. I am guessing Rory’s physician has a problem with that.” Conri was staring straight ahead, showing no emotion at all. “No offense Conor but I do not think your presence will be helpful. Go back and wait at the table with Alana.”

  “Why is Alana sitting with you? Did Conri not tell you she makes him crazy?” Perhaps Conor was simply unaware of Alana’s obsession with Conri.

  “I invited her to sit with us.” Conor actually smiled as he said it.

  “Why would you do that? After everything Conri has done for you.” Alana’s presence at their table momentarily distracted her from the serious looking trio on the dais.