by Mary McCall
Duncan kept his jaw from dropping by clenching his teeth and frowned. “How did you get so many troops on my land without my knowledge?"
Big brown eyes twinkled up at him. “One Highlander to another, my mountains are bigger and my ancestors taught yours."
He arched an inquiring brow. The lass obviously had a sense of humor and she was making him the brunt of a jest. He just couldn't figure out how.
"Do not tease him, Chris.” Alera smiled at Duncan. “Arturia includes a large territory from the Alpine Highlands to the Roman Sea. Her main domicile is in the Alps."
"And to answer your first question,” Christina said. “We did meet many years ago on the day of my holy union when I was three. You still have my permission to call me Christina, though I prefer you not mention my visit to the imbecile."
"I won't mention it if you promise to let me be present when he first sees you,” Duncan replied with an easy grin. This was rich. Michael thought his wife was half-English and docile. In truth, she was a warrior queen. He couldn't wait for the pair to meet.
"Considering he has shown no interest in me for seventeen years, I no longer expect to see him. If he changes his mind and comes to Arturia, you will be welcome.” Christina turned and called, “Medea, come greet our sister."
Duncan looked toward the mounted troops and finally looked past their weapons to see the strength of the men and the beauty of the female faces and forms. The one who dismounted from a sable charger to approach his wife was an ethereal vision. Where her liege wore black, she sported dark brown and also carried an armory of weapons on her person. Tresses of pure spun gold adorned her head. Violet eyes danced above a graceful nose and lush cherry lips. Her skin was tinted a honey hue. Of a height with Alera, this lassie had a face and body that would make Aphrodite jealous.
"Medea!” Alera exclaimed hugging the lass. “I am so glad you are here, too. All we need is Faith for a reunion."
Medea pulled back and grinned. “We go to save Faith when we finish here. Heaven knows she won't last a day in a convent."
Alera turned back toward Christina and frowned. “You can't go to England. King Henry will have your head if you get caught."
"Do not insult me. I will not get caught.” Christina grinned. “Besides, I have decided if he offers fifteen thousand gold pieces for my head, I should place a bounty on his as well. ‘Twould be an insult not to inform him of my decision."
"What have you done?” Alera demanded.
Medea laughed—an enchanting melodic sound. “Chris decided to be biblical. She offers thirty pieces of silver for Henry's head."
"I'll drink to that,” Duncan muttered, liking the irony.
"You will remember he is my godfather,” Alera snapped. “Besides, I have taken care of Faith. You need not go to England."
Christina arched a skeptical brow. “Exactly how did you help Faith?"
"King Alexander ordered Brendan Sutherland to take an English bride, so I sent him after her."
"Sancta Cecilia!" Medea exclaimed. “I cannot believe it. Of all the Highlanders in Caledonia, you sent him."
"Are you insulting my brother?” Duncan demanded.
"Nay,” Christina replied, amusement dancing across her features. “Medea is just astonished that of all the men in this country your wife sent Faith her hero."
"You mean he's the one who—” Alera broke off and slammed a palm to her cheek. “I cannot believe it."
"What did he do?” Duncan asked.
"Bren killed one who caused her much pain.” Christina turned her grin back on Alera. “You couldn't talk me out of going to England now if you tried. I hope I make it in time to see his first look at that wart."
"I thought you said this Faith lass was bonny?” Duncan put the question to his wife.
Alera shrugged. “She is if you look close enough to see past..."
"Past what?” he demanded.
"Her disguise,” Alera admitted.
"We have little time if I am not to miss another holy union,” Christina said accusingly.
"Uncle Julien rushed the wedding,” Alera said.
Christina nodded. “Typical man. I will send masons and mortar in the spring for a wedding gift. Your keep is too easy to climb and penetrate.” Before Duncan could take exception to her insult against Laidirkin, she distracted him by saying, “Alera, I would see your left arm and shoulder."
"How did you know?” Alera asked.
"Let's just say Henry told me. You can show me only part if that is easier. ‘Tis not for my benefit. Medea must see."
Alera pulled up her sleeve to show her angry scars. “Is this what you wished to see?"
Christina nodded. “Aye, you bare the marks of battle. Pila Prior Medea, do you accept Alera this day?"
Medea grew serious and helped Alera pull her sleeve back down. “As both pila prior and centurion, for the greater glory of God, I do this day accept Alera."
"Rauri, I need the box,” Christina called.
"God Almighty, Rauri!” Duncan exclaimed as the enormous warrior dismounted and walked toward them, carrying a long ornate box inlaid with ivory, gold, sapphires, and emeralds.
Awed murmurs rushed among the warriors. Rauri MacArthur was a legend among Highlanders. When he was a lad of seventeen fresh out of training, most every chieftain in the Highlands tried to recruit him for their private guards. Michael MacArthur assigned the giant as his young bride's protector after they wed. No one had seen or heard from him in years.
Under carrot hair, pale blue eyes sparkled and ruddy cheeks grinned as Rauri joined them, standing a full head taller than Duncan. “I see you got tired of growing, Ranald."
"I wondered if I would ever see your ugly face again,” Duncan jested, slapping the giant's shoulder.
"It will likely happen often now,” Rauri replied. “You married Chris's sister."
"Are you the seven-foot Highlander this wee lass took down?” Duncan asked.
"I am and I'm not embarrassed to admit it, since I helped train her.” Rauri winked at the lass like a big brother then turned back to Duncan. “Be careful around her. Chris gets wicked when riled."
"Let's get on with it,” Christina said, raising the lid of the box Rauri held.
"What are we getting on with?” Duncan asked.
"Your wife has made the sacrifice and proven worthy. And this day, Medea accepted her for the greater glory of God.” Christina spoke as if he was a three-year-old and Duncan didn't appreciate it.
Alera gasped with barely contained excitement as if the full meaning just occurred to her. “Truly?"
Medea smiled. “Truly. You should kneel."
Alera immediately knelt. Christina made the Sign of the Cross and placed a hand on Alera's bowed head. The lyric tones of Laudate Dominum echoed over the hills as the Arturian queen chanted the praises of God. When she finished, she drew an arm cuff of silver from the chest and placed it on Alera's right upper arm. Next, Christina nestled a laurel wreath upon his wife's head. Then she procured a dagger with an ivory hilt that was inlaid with onyx, silver and gold designs of holy symbols. She handed the hilt to Alera. “Rise, Alera, my sister—now my daughter."
As his wife rose and embraced her friend, Duncan frowned. “What just happened?"
The three women looked at each other and laughed. Rauri shook his head and closed the box. “Your wife made the sacrifice and proved worthy."
"Worthy for what?"
Rauri's grin grew huge. “To be a virago. You, Ranald, are now wed to a female warrior of entry rank among the Sons and Daughters of Sophia. Medea is your wife's cohort and centurion."
Duncan shook his head in disbelief. “Is this a jest? I am not about to let my wife go into battle."
Rauri laughed—a booming sound. “'Tis no jest, but I will tell you a much needed bit of knowledge. Sacred law says a married virago cannot fight after relations with her husband until she can prove she is not with child."
Relief flooded Duncan and he looked at Aler
a's radiant smile. “I'll make sure she stays that way."
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About Mary
Mary has been telling stories all her life. Now she writes humorous and adventurous historical romance set mainly in the medieval Highlands and England. She is a member of Romance Writers of America; Hearts Through History Romance Writers; Celtic Hearts Romance Writers; The Golden Network; River City Romance Writer; ESPAN; Faith, Hope & Love, Inc. She has won or placed in over 43 historical romance contests and is a past Golden Hearts finalist. A member of Sisters in Crime and the Malice in Memphis chapter of SinC. , she loves history, has a particular fondness for the Greek through Medieval periods, and is glad research for her books has finally utilized her ability to speak Ecclesiastical Latin. Mary resides in Memphis, Tennessee with her Maltese, Regina Benita Catarina, who runs the apartment. Visit her blog Chats through Time marymccall.wordpress.com, website www.marymccall.net or e-mail her at [email protected].
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