The King's Warrior (Pict King Series Book 2)

by Donna Fletcher

  “We are a large tribe. I do not know what everyone does at every moment.”

  “You should, any leader should for their own safety,” Wrath said.

  “After all the bloody battles we fought, after all the Picts who died, I wanted to believe peace ruled. King Talon promised that.”

  “King Talon promised that he would do all he could to see that peace existed. You know as well as I do that there were those who opposed Talon taking the throne and still do. There will always be those who believe they can rule better and wiser, and we both know there is not a wiser and braver man than Talon to be King.”

  “I would argue with you if I did not know Talon well and if I had not seen his wisdom and bravery myself. Or the loyalty he instills in the men who come to know him.” He shook his head. “There are always those who crave power at any cost or foreign invaders who think to take our land.”

  Wrath thought of the Northmen, but said nothing. He would wait and see what he could find out.

  “Vard keeps watch over the warriors. He would know if any men have gone missing,” Egot offered. “I will speak with him.”

  “I want to be there when you do,” Wrath said, making sure Egot understood it was not a request.

  Egot nodded. “Tell me more of the attack.”

  ~~~

  Verity liked Ethra. She was honest in her word, smiled often, and was not fearful to speak as she wished to her husband. She was as round and short as her husband was thick and big. Her hair was streaked heavily with gray and her many wrinkles did no harm to her pleasing features.

  “You must be mighty special to have joined with Wrath,” Ethra said, pushing a full trencher of meat in front of her. “Many believed he would never wed, that he would spend his life serving the King.”

  “Fate had different plans,” Verity said and wondered if it was true or perhaps hoped it was.

  “I am glad he has wed. He deserves a good woman.” Ethra jabbed Verity in the side with her elbow. “Are you a good woman?”

  Verity hesitated. Was she a good woman? She had lied to Wrath, run away from him, and it was because of her the King had joined them.

  Ethra laughed and jabbed her in the side again. “Since you have to think about it you are not a good woman and Wrath does not need a good woman. He needs a woman who will keep him thinking, wondering, and challenging him or he would grow tired of her and seek another’s sleeping pallet.”

  Verity thought how Wrath had gone to the woman Simca instead of returning to her and his own sleeping pallet. But they had barely known each other, but what did it matter? Yet it had upset her, proving that she had cared for him before meeting him.

  Inwardly, she shook the revelation away and turned her attention to see if these women possibly knew anything about Hemera. “You have a large tribe,” she said.

  Ethra beamed with pride. “We do and we are generous to those who stop only briefly and continue on their way.”

  “How gracious of you,” Verity said. “You must have had people stopping to seek shelter from the snowstorm. It was a powerful one.”

  “If we did, they left as soon as the skies had cleared, for I saw no one new,” Ethra said and the other women around the table nodded in agreement. “Vard would know more about that, since he is the one who would provide them with shelter or turn them away if he thought it best to do so.”

  “You are well-protected,” Verity praised, and Ethra and the other women beamed with pride. “What of women who find their way here? Does Vard see to them as well?”

  Ethra laughed. “No women travel alone, except maybe the Lammok women, since they are fierce warriors themselves.”

  Verity should have known better than to think Hemera was here. She had seen no such village in her vision and she needed to trust her visions. Or so Hemera had warned her repeatedly. It was difficult, since some of what she saw frightened her. She had to trust that Hemera was safe and that they would be reunited, though that did not mean she would give up searching for her. Not knowing how exactly she would find her meant that she had to keep searching until fate finally intervened.

  “Only foolish people travel when the land is at rest and the snow falls,” Ethra said. “When the land is ready for planting that is when travelers arrive seeking a night or more of shelter.”

  Could that be why the Northmen were here? No one would expect them now?

  Talk shifted to the King, a slim woman asking, “Has the new, future queen arrived at the stronghold yet?”

  “I believe arrangements are being seen to,” Verity said.

  “I hope this one turns out more fruitful than the other two,” another woman said.

  “Perhaps it is not the women who are barren,” one woman whispered.

  Ethra laughed. “One look at the King and that would be hard to believe.”

  “There is talk that one of his previous wives is now with child,” the slim woman said.

  “Do not go spreading lies, Wilda,” Ethra warned.

  “Tell Vard and some of the warriors that, since they were the ones I heard talking about it.”

  “Vard should know better than to spread lies,” Ethra said.

  “Unless they are not lies,” Wilda said.

  “Bah,” Ethra said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “King Talon is a potent man and will make many fine bairns.” She turned to Verity and grinned. “No doubt you will have a large brood with the likes of your husband.”

  “He is a mighty fine man,” Wilda said, her cheeks spotting red.

  “He is a mighty fine husband,” Verity confirmed and wondered if jealousy had her reminding them that Wrath belonged to her, when that had yet to be decided.

  Talk continued to shift and Verity enjoyed speaking and laughing with the women, never having known such satisfying companionship. She had also eaten more than she had in some time.

  Ethra gave Verity a nod. “Your husband approaches.”

  Verity turned and watched as Wrath walked toward her. There was power and sureness in his every step and others saw it as well since their eyes followed him in awe.

  Egot’s voice boomed across the room just as Wrath stopped in front of Verity, “Ethra, show Wrath’s wife to the dwelling that has been prepared for them while he goes to see to his men.”

  “You could not come tell me that, you must scream it at me, you old fool?” Ethra yelled back as she stood.

  “Watch your tongue, woman!” Egot warned.

  “Be gone with your useless threats,” she called out and sent him a dismissive wave.

  Verity saw that everyone ignored the squabbling pair as if they had heard and seen such an exchange so often that it was of little importance to them.

  Wrath reached out and took her hand, tugging her to her feet and leaned down to whisper, “It is amazing they have not killed each other by now.”

  “I have thought about it.”

  Wrath looked to Ethra surprised that she had heard him.

  “But I care too deeply for the old fool and I would miss him terribly. Now go see to your men and I will see that your wife is made ready for you.”

  Wrath leaned down again to whisper in Verity’s ear, though much lower this time, “Make ready for me, wife.”

  He grinned as he walked away and Verity shivered not only from the tingle that raced through her, but from the passion she had seen ignite in his eyes. And she could not help but wonder what he was planning to do.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Wrath sat by one of three campfires the King’s warriors had made, and spoke with Tilden. After having Verity slip away on his watch and having served and survived his punishment, the young warrior seemed eager to make amends and prove himself trustworthy once again. And the King had seen fit to have him prove it since he had brought him to the Raban Tribe and had ordered him to serve Wrath.

  “The camp is secure as are the men who wait in the woods,” Tilden said.

  “They have seen nothing unusual?”

  “Only that
the village is not as protected as it should be.”

  “Egot has gotten lazy with age. There was a time he would have punished his warriors and harshly for not seeing to their duties. Now the only things that seem to interest him are food and drink... and arguing with his wife.”

  “His disinterest shows. Our men in the woods have not been spotted by the Ancrum warriors. I fear the village could easily be raided and conquered,” Tilden said. “How long will we remain here?”

  “A sunrise or two, depending on what we find out, “Wrath said, poking at the fire with a long stick, “and make sure the men mingle with the Ancrum to see what they can learn.”

  Tilden nodded. “Do we return home once we leave here?”

  “We will take a different path back to the stronghold and see if we can find Verity’s sister along the way.” Wrath tossed the stick into the flames and stood. “You have done well, Tilden.”

  He jumped to his feet. “I have done my duty as a King’s warrior, no more or less.”

  “You do more than your share and I saw how you kept a watchful eye on the King while at the Raban Tribe. You have the makings to become one of the King’s personal guard, if you make no more foolish mistakes.”

  Tilden’s eyes turned wide. “I would be honored to serve the King in that capacity. And worry not, I will make no such error again.”

  “I am glad to know that,” Wrath said and walked away eager to join Verity in the dwelling provided for them. Thoughts of her had him envisioning her ready and waiting naked in the sleeping pallet, and his hands could almost feel her soft skin. He quickened his step. He had left the decision to her when they would finally couple, but he could always help her decision along.

  He smiled and followed the path Egot had told him would take him to the dwelling. Sound and movement had him slowing his pace as he rounded a slight curve in the path. He came upon Vard draped around a woman who was trying to support him as he stumbled with each step he took. That he was deep into his cups was not hard to see.

  “Wrath,” he cried out, waving his arm and almost falling backward if it was not for the woman steadying him with a firm hand. “Did you and Egot have a good talk?”

  “We did.”

  “All is well then?”

  “We will talk tomorrow,” Wrath said and walked past him.

  A hand gripped his shoulder, forcing him to stop and Wrath reached up, grabbed, and twisted it in one quick movement.

  Vard cried out and grabbed his wrist when Wrath released it.

  “Lay a hand on me and suffer for it.”

  Vard wisely took a step back. “I meant no disrespect.”

  “Then do not show it.” Wrath walked off, his scowl deepening. For a man who needed a woman to keep him on his feet while in a drunken stupor, he had gripped Wrath’s shoulder with strength and without stumbling into him. There was more for him to learn about Vard.

  The incident had annoyed him, but it had not dampened his desire for his wife and his hurried steps showed just how eager he was to be with her. He hid his disappointment when he opened the door and found her pacing in front of the fire pit. It was quickly replaced with concern when she hurried to him and threw her arms around him, her head going to rest on his chest.

  Instinctively his arms closed around her and his anger sparked. He was ready to hunt down the culprit who had caused her such distress. “Who has upset you?”

  You. Your absence. How did she voice her thought? How did she let him know that she had come to care for him through her visions? And the worse part was now that she had realized it, she wondered if she could ever walk away from him. What then would happen to Hemera?

  Try as she might to trust her visions and know from what she had seen so far that all would turn out well, she could not help but worry.

  “Tell me, Verity,” Wrath demanded once again, his concern mounting and his arms tightening around her as though his strength could protect her even from her troubling thoughts.

  Instead of saying what her heart felt for him, she said, “I cannot help but worry over Hemera.”

  “No one has seen her?” he asked relieved it was no more than thoughts of her sister that had her upset.

  Verity raised her head to look at him. “No strangers have passed this way from what Ethra knows. She did mention that Vard was the one who dealt with any strangers that arrived here.”

  The more Wrath heard Vard’s name, the more curious he became about the warrior. From what he had learned and seen so far, it seemed that Vard was more the leader of the tribe than Egot.

  He slipped his hand to rest at her lower back and eased her toward the sleeping pallet. Once she sat, he removed his cloak and tossed it on a bench before sitting beside her.

  “Did you learn anything else from the women?” he asked.

  “They were curious of the King’s future wife and also the gossip they heard about one of his previous wives being with child. The warriors must have brought the news home with them, since the woman who spoke of it told Ethra she had heard it from Vard and his warriors.”

  Wrath definitely would speak with Vard tomorrow.

  “Did you learn anything?” Verity asked.

  “Nothing significant.”

  “How long do we stay here?”

  “Not more than two sunrises. The different route we take home will pass through the Faelchu Tribe. I can make certain they have suffered no attacks while we search for Hemera.”

  Verity stood and went to the fire pit, holding her hands out to warm them. “Once again I am grateful for your generous help.”

  Wrath stood and approached her slowly. “You are cold. Let me warm you.”

  Verity moved away from him, following the curve of the fire pit so that it remained between them. “I am fine.”

  He returned to the sleeping pallet and sat, leaning down to unfasten his leg coverings. “You will be fine once in bed where we can keep each other warm.”

  “The fire warms me,” she said, keeping her eyes on her hands and warning herself not to look at him.

  Wrath stood again and pulled off his tunic to stand naked.

  Do not look. Do not look. Do not look.

  Verity moved so that the fire pit was directly between them, the flames preventing her from seeing all of him.

  “You cannot stand there all night. Shed your garments and come here to me.”

  Foolishly she looked through the flames at him and the words on her lips turned to a slight gasp. She could not take her eyes off him. His potent body glistened from the flickering flames that appeared as if they paid homage to him, and his image reminded her of the powerful gods the Northmen worshiped. Her tingle grew and she knew she was in trouble.

  “Shed your garments, Verity, or I will.”

  He was a man of his word and would do as he said, and once he touched her, she feared she would be lost. She already craved his lips on hers and to have him touch her intimately would be her undoing.

  “I am not a patient man.”

  His sharp tone had her slipping out of her garments, though she took her time folding them. Anything to delay—she was suddenly scooped up in his arms.

  “You take far too long to join me.”

  The words rushed from her mouth. “We cannot join.”

  “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” He carried her to the sleeping pallet and rested there beside her once he laid her upon it.

  There was barely room to move away from him, but she tried.

  His hand went to the curve of her waist, preventing her from going anywhere.

  “Do not touch me,” she warned.

  “I enjoy the feel of you,” he said, his hand gently following the slight curve of her hip with a soft caress and doing the same to her middle.

  Her hand shot out to grab his when he went to cup her breast. “Do you care for me?”

  “If I did not care for you, I would not protect you,” he said and broke free of her hand to squeeze her breast before teasing her nip
ple with his fingers.

  She grabbed his hand again, fighting the urge to surrender to his touch. “You protect me, as you would others, out of duty. I want to know if you care for me because your heart tells you to.”

  He got annoyed and spoke more gruffly than he intended. “What difference does it make?”

  Verity eased his hand off her and turned on her side to face him. She caressed his chest with a gentle hand. “It makes a difference to me. When I touch you,” —her hand drifted down past his middle— “I do so because,” —she slipped down further and took hold of his manhood and stroked him— “I care for you more than I have ever cared for anyone.”

  He did not think it was possible to feel ready to spill his seed so quickly right there and then in her hand. She ignited an overpowering desire in him that he had never experienced before.

  “I do not want to be touched out of convenience of being your wife, out of duty to protect me, out of your need for a woman, any woman.” She released him and took hold of his hand to press against her breast. “I want to be touched from the depths of someone’s heart or not at all.” She moved her hand off his and waited.

  He stared at her.

  “I will give all of myself to you if you care for me that way, but if you do not, then please do not touch me for you will only break my heart.”

  He stared at her a moment more, then turned away from her, got out of bed, slipped into his garments, grabbed his cloak from the bench, and left the dwelling.

  Verity felt tears gather in her eyes. She forced them away. She had cried far too many tears for far too long. She hurt, but she was also relieved to know that he did not care for her in the way she cared for him. She now could take her leave of him when necessary, though it would pain her terribly to do so. She would rather that pain, then the pain of remaining his wife and knowing that he cared for her out of duty alone.

  She slipped off the sleeping pallet and back into her garments and returned to the sleeping pallet. She would not lie there naked, vulnerable to his touch, for now he knew how she felt about him. She did not know if she had been wise in speaking the truth to him, but she had had no other choice. His touch fired a need in her that she would not be able to deny and she would only surrender to it if he surrendered as well.