“So long?” The last few days had seemed forever without his company and she had looked forward to a return to some semblance of normalcy.
Conan, sensing he was leaving, raced to the door, ready to accompany Kellach. He leaned down and scratched the little cur behind the ears. “Not this time, my little friend, and you would not like being without your mistress.” Softly, “I do not like it either.”
A lump formed in Fiona’s throat and she turned away, tears threatening. Why couldn’t he be like every other man she had ever known? It would make things so much easier. Returning home was always uppermost in her mind and she didn’t like these niggling moments of doubt that seemed to regularly spring up. She wanted to go home, didn’t she? Her mind said “yes,” but her heart ached for what could not be.
“Take care,” she whispered. “I’ll be here. If Cyrnon’s condition changes for the worse, I’ll let you know.”
He nodded and went out the door. Loneliness swept over her. If it weren’t for Cyrnon, she would have sought Tanith’s company, but she couldn’t leave Cyrnon alone. She went about cleaning up and, after checking on Cyrnon again, she took Conan out for a short run.
Tanith stepped out into the evening and, noticing Fiona, she waved and then went back inside. Siran was home and they would be catching up, Fiona supposed. That brought vivid images to mind.
Oh well, better to keep things as they are. Her insistence that it would be Kellach who would be hurt when she left was just a cover story. The mere thought of leaving Kellach caused her pain. Time to think of something else! She forced herself to focus on her parents and home. What were they doing, how were they, were they taking care of Sykes? Of course they were, they were her parents, after all. Mom would be working in her shop, preparing her ointments, salves and whatever else she came up with and Dad would be puttering around his office, excited over some new archeological find. Normal, every day things—for that life anyway.
She picked Conan up and hugged him. He was growing fast and she guessed, full grown, he would weigh in at around thirty-five pounds. No particular breed dominated his makeup, but no matter, he loved her totally and was a perfect companion. Those attributes went a long way in her book.
“Guess it’s you and me again, buddy.” He cocked his head quizzically. “Oops, sorry,” she said. “I forgot you don’t speak English.”
Twenty-Two
Kellach trudged toward the holding pens, revived somewhat by a few moments of rest and a well prepared meal. Those close moments with Fiona lingered and, but for the work ahead, he was strangely content. There was still a great deal to do, but he hadn’t wanted to worry her needlessly. The real danger had passed, but long hours lay ahead. If all went well, one of the other herders might be agreeable to keeping watch until Siran arrived and he would be home sooner than he stated. His thoughts returned to Fiona. She was truly an amazing woman, far more interesting than any he had ever known. Her skill as a healer was unsurpassed and her uncomplaining care of Cyrnon, along with any others who sought her attention, only enhanced her appeal.
He crossed the market square and so engrossed was he in his thoughts, he did not see Voadicia until he was almost upon her. She moved to stand in his way and, contrary to what he supposed was her intent, he was irritated by her maneuver. He was not in the mood nor did he have the time to deal with her. He moved to step around her but she kept pace with him.
“You look exhausted, lover. Has your little bed slave kept you so busy?”
“I know not of whom you speak,” he countered, not allowing her to goad him.
“Do not play games with me. You would not win.” The dark eyes glittered with contempt.
“If you speak of my new housekeeper—that is all she is.” He turned aside and started another direction. “I cannot spend time conversing with you this evening, I have work to do.”
“Why do you not put her in her place? She should not have the rights of even a mere housekeeper. She is not one of us. She is a captured enemy and captured enemies are slaves. That is the law.”
Kellach froze. To have Fiona named as slave left her too open to Voadicia’s particular brand of cruelty and he would be hard pressed to protect her if the witch decided she was a liability. “Fiona is no slave and you have no control over her. She is my servant and you would do well to remember that. I protect what is mine.” He stepped menacingly towards her, his meaning clear.
A small flicker of fear crept into Voadicia’s eyes. “It is not I who would decide her fate. That is the decision of the Council and the priests,” she spat the words out.
“Not all the Council members are capable of thinking clearly,” he growled. “Their thoughts are confused by your vileness, and the priests follow those in power. Think you I have not heard of your manipulations?”
Swaggering now, she sneered. “My manipulations, as you call them, are for the good of the people, and I would never allow anyone to take what is mine.”
Growing angrier by the second, Kellach voiced thoughts that were better left unsaid. “That is the crux—’what is yours’. You have nothing and you are no one—and you hate that. Your own father did not claim you, nor did your mother! You were just an inconvenience. You can’t forget that. Your only true claim is to your beauty, and that dims when taken with the whole. Your hatefulness and malevolence touch everyone near you. How Alstrom can bear your presence is not within my understanding!”
Voadicia’s face blazed with fury. “You dare speak to me in such a way? I could destroy you—as well as your little servant!” With that, she spun around and careened into a passing child. The child received a slap for her clumsiness and Voadicia stormed away.
Kellach consoled the crying child, too late realizing his mistake in confronting Voadicia. She would not soon forget this moment and it was very likely Fiona would suffer the result. She could easily press the Council to determine Fiona was a threat, and as Fiona had no protection within the laws of the people, she was an easy target. There were few options open to Fiona—marriage, or, if she chose to do so, she could bind herself to him or one of the other nobles and secure their protection and, in time, at least obtain the status of one of the lower classes. That option could take years and she didn’t have that kind of time if Voadicia made good her threats. It galled him that he had allowed the witch to provoke him
Durlach hailed him as he continued on his way. “I see you are getting along well with Voadicia,” he said dryly. “You are in good company.”
Durlach had also helped in the round up, but seemed none the worse for wear. Maybe I am getting old, Kellach thought with some disquiet. Most of the men had worked in shifts, while Kellach had labored the entire time. He could still more than hold his own with even one such as Durlach.
“Voadicia grows more fanatical with each passing day, and I hear whispers that she is sacrificing men as well as animals to the Gods. In truth, she scares me.” Durlach’s open face was fraught with concern. “I am happy to be away in the spring.”
“She has her limitations and wouldn’t dare move against any of the nobles or their families.”
“I think she may at least try. She has the backing of more than one noble.”
“Who would back her?” Even though Kellach had similar intimations, to have his concerns voiced by another was more than troubling.
“A few of the younger members. Cromanus and his brother bear watching. Mellonus leans but is yet undecided.”
It did not surprise him that Durlach was so informed. He had long been known to find hidden truths. His web of information stretched from highborn families to loose women living near the river’s edge. He was not loose-tongued or untruthful in what he learned.
“What did Voadicia seek from you?”
“She threatened me and the woman, Fiona. It is my error that she now knows Fiona is more than just a servant. I did not want Fiona to attract her attention, but it seems that is the case and she won’t stop until she learns the entire truth. Something w
ill have to change or Fiona is lost.”
“You will just have to wed her,” Durlach stated calmly. “There is no other option, or I could marry her in your stead. I would make her a good husband.”
Kellach stopped abruptly, and glared at the younger man. “If anyone weds her, it will be me!” His voice left no question as to his sincerity.
Durlach grinned, “I thought that might be your answer, I but had to know for sure. When can we plan on this happy occasion?”
Kellach growled. “I will have to convince her first. She wants to leave and I don’t always please her.”
“What? The great Kellach is having trouble with a woman! Methinks the world might be ending.” Durlach burst into laughter. To imagine Kellach as having woman trouble was too funny by far.
Kellach did not seem to appreciate his good humor, “Perhaps you should wander away and annoy someone else.”
“No, I am enjoying where I’m at,” he continued, “and you will need help with the herds.”
Kellach couldn’t dispute that. How many had stayed to help was yet to be seen. Besides, Durlach’s mood had lifted the black cloud that hung over him from his encounter with the vicious Voadicia.
“Then stop your nonsense and let’s get to work.” The herds awaited and the sooner they finished, the sooner he could go home.
Twenty-Three
Fiona made one last check on Cyrnon before retiring. She forced a little more water down his throat and made sure he was settled for the night. His color was better but he still hadn’t returned to consciousness. He did seem more aware, though, moving around somewhat and making small noises. Perhaps he was trying to wake up. Hopefully, that was the case. She moved the curtain back so as to have a clear view of him through the night. Vowing to keep one ear open, she settled down in Kellach’s bed. Even though he had not slept here for the last two nights, his essence lingered everywhere. Funny how you could identify a person by his own particular smell! His was a spicy musky scent, intoxicating and intriguing, and comforting in a strange way. Clutching his pillow, she drifted off to sleep.
In the early hours of the morning, Kellach made his way home, first stopping at the bathhouse for a quick scrubbing. Exhaustion numbed his mind and the only coherent thought was home, Fiona and bed, in that order. Too tired by far to think any farther than that, he trudged on. Quietly, he let himself into the dwelling. Only one small candle lit the room, casting a mellow glow on the interior. His tail wagging wildly, Conan raised up on the bed, but Kellach managed to quiet him before he woke everyone. He made a quick check on Cyrnon, who appeared somewhat better and turned to his bed.
Fiona lay on her side, sleeping deeply. Long eyelashes brushed her cheeks and her mouth was parted softly. He stood for a few moments drinking in the sight of her. Even in sleep, she was uncommonly beautiful. One willowy arm was flung out and the other curved near her face. He studied her noting the clear skin, a slight blush to her high cheekbones, graceful curve of her neck and rounded breasts. Only parts of her appeal. Taking care not to waken her, he undressed and eased into the bed. Conan rewarded him with a thorough face washing and, satisfied all was well, he lay back down and went back to sleep. Kellach lay there for a few moments listening to Fiona’s soft breathing and, soothed by the sound, fell into sleep.
Something roused Fiona slightly. From her vantage point, she could see that Cyrnon was resting quietly and, without checking further, she settled back to sleep. Morning came and unwilling to face the day quite yet, she snuggled down for a few more minutes of sleep. Her mind registered the fact that her pillow was hard and unyielding, and her heartbeat was so loud, she could swear she heard it. The bed was too warm by far and she kicked what covers there were off the bed. Her pillow moved and arms wrapped around her. She stiffened, and opened her eyes. Kellach’s face was mere inches away from her, his sleepy eyes warm and inviting.
His body was pressed against her side, and unless she was mistaken, he was completely interested. One hand slowly massaged her body, making small circles along the way. His hand brushed her nipple and she jumped in surprise. All the while, his lips were finding small erotic spots along her neck and around her ear. Her heart pounded and warmth spiraled down. She was not prudish by nature but the things he was making her body feel were too erotic by far for her limited experience. His mouth teased the corner of her lips and slowly worked across her mouth, tantalizing her with the promise of more. When she didn’t deny him, the kiss deepened. His tongue parted her mouth and plunged in, dueling with her own. Reason deserted her. The only thing that existed at this moment was her need for him and the feelings he invoked.
Deeper and deeper she fell into the maelstrom of desire, swirling around and around, conscious only of Kellach and the blazing flame of desire coursing through her veins. Somewhere along the way, her robe disappeared and Kellach pressed against her bare skin, his desire hard and probing, melding hot skin against hot skin. She moaned and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. A knee parted her legs and she opened willingly to him. Craving everything that he could give, she threw off her inhibitions and let sensuality take over.
Kellach was a master of seduction and she a novice. She recognized his expertise even while she reveled in it. No clumsy fumbling here. He slowly worked his way down, stopping to savor each part of her, licking and tasting and arousing along his downward path. Arching her back to savor the sensations, she buried her hands in his hair, willing him to explore every part of her. He was everywhere, and when he found the core of her desire, emotion exploded in a warm liquid rush.
“Please,” she begged, “please, please.”
Kellach groaned his desire. “Tell me what you want! Tell me now and I will make it so.”
“I want…I need…I don’t know,” she tossed her head. “I want to feel you in me. I need you in me.”
Kellach laughed, a soft seductive sound. “And you shall, my beautiful love—and you shall.”
Fiona felt his manhood probing at the center of her desire. Her fever pitched even higher as her body prepared for the invasion. She was ready as she had never been ready or willing before. Kellach was the epitome of all her secret yearnings and her entire being existed for this moment.
A thud broke up their reverie. “Are you two ever going to be finished? I’m really hungry,” Cyrnon’s petulant voice sounded in the open room.
Fiona gasped and made a dive for the covers. How could she have forgotten Cyrnon?
“Conan has been over here licking my face forever and I think he wants to go outside,” he complained.
Kellach rolled to his side, cursing softly. “Mayhap I should finish him off,” he whispered.
Mortified, she began laughing—and laughed and laughed to the point her sides hurt. This was one for the medical logs. How to wake up a coma victim in three easy steps! Her laughter spilled over to Kellach and soon he was laughing as well.
“I don’t see what’s so funny. I think Conan just wet on the floor and my head really hurts,” Cyrnan grumbled. “Will you two just stop whatever you’re doing and help me out over here!”
Hiccupping with mirth, Fiona slid off the bed and hastened to Cyrnon’s side. His eyes were stormy and Conan was nipping at his ears, totally delighted that Cyrnon was awake and wanted to play. She pushed the dog off the bed and gave Cyrnon a great big lip-smacking kiss.
Twenty-Four
Fiona watched as Kellach opened a deep coffer and pulled out various items of clothing and equipment. He was totally nude and seemingly unconscious of the fact. Goodness, people here just didn’t have much in the way of modesty!
His naked body was a lesson in masculine beauty and she was struck again by the power of his form. He turned unexpectedly and caught her staring. Heat flushed her face. She turned away, busying herself with dirty dishes, but unconsciously her glance slid back. Hard to ignore perfection!
When he had everything laid out, Kellach began to dress, first putting on a short under-tunic and then garments w
hich she could only describe as soldierly. He strapped on leather arm and lower leg protectors as well as a hardened leather vest studded with metal. He retrieved a scabbard out of the large chest and various other weapons soon joined. A brass helmet completed the costume.
Having not had the opportunity to see him outfitted this way before, she was impressed by the transformation. He certainly looked formidable. The change concerned her, though, and questions sprang to mind.
“Why are you dressed like that?”
“I’ve been elected by the Council to lead the army and to prepare them for battle. I begin training the troops today.”
“Prepare them for battle! Are you going out to fight? Are we in danger?”
“We’re in no danger for the time being, but I’m to prepare the soldiers in the event we’re attacked, which will happen eventually.”
The idea of a battle caused her some major anxiety. Wars in her time were fought someplace else and you read about them in the newspaper, they didn’t happen in front of you. She’d heard enough lately to know skirmishes with the northern marauders occurred quite frequently and were accepted as a part of life. Just the other day, one of the women in the marketplace commented that a small band of raiders had attacked the fringes of the yellow settlement, but were driven off. That was too close for comfort.
“Why must it be you?”
“My family has commanded the army for generations and it is my duty to continue in that capacity and offer my leadership.” Noting her concerned expression, he tried to allay her fears. “It is just preparation in the event something does happen. Do your people not do the same?”
She had to admit they did, “Yes, but I’ve never been so close before.”
“You will have to tell me about your people some day when we have the time. I am curious about your homeland,” he said, trying to lessen her worry by changing the subject.
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