Surrender

by Sophia Johnson

  "Will they not be riding into a trap?"

  Elyne began to wring her hands and pace about the room. Graemme followed behind her, quickly plucking at all the ties holding her kirtle together in back.

  "Nay. Magnus will not return over his usual route, but will go southeast and come up from below Blackbriar. The raider who waits to waylay Magnus' party will be empty-handed."

  Elyne had been so engrossed in this news she was barely aware Graemme had already removed her kirtle and was determined to swiftly make her as nude as the day she was born. She didn't mind. Magnus' suggestion of a down mattress had been tempting. To make it even better, Graemme's bed was huge. They could roll and thrash about to their hearts content and not end with bruised bodies on the floor.

  When the cold air hit her skin, her eyes widened with surprise.

  "I am nekid and ye are still clothed!"

  "I dinna have time to undress. Grunda is foreseeing where the spy has gone and will surely come to let me know."

  She crossed her arms, covering her breasts, and refused to back up to the bed.

  "See?" He grabbed the hem of his kilt and lifted it high. His rampant cock was ready and eager. "Clothing doesna hinder me!"

  He came close and thrust his hips at her. His cock felt enticingly warm and, er, very interesting on her bare stomach.

  A few short breaths ago, he had been the aggressor. She took over. He found himself backed up to the bed and sprawled across the mattress. Before he could blink his eyes twice, Elyne straddled him, took his hot weapon in her hand and promptly began to rub it over her already slippery entrance.

  His gasp of pleasure was all she needed for encouragement.

  Rising on her knees, she nestled down on him until the head of his tarse broke into her hot sheath. When he expected her to seat herself firmly, she grinned slyly and popped up, leaving him wanting.

  "Lucifer's crooked eyes, woman! Ye tease when ye should be rocking away afore Grunda appears."

  His breath came in gasps, but she resisted when he tried to push her down again. She leaned forward, pulled his plaid over his chest to the side and latched like a starving bairn onto his left nipple. She played with him the same as he had always played with her. Bringing him to a peak where he thought he would explode, and then retreating until he caught his breath.

  She started over, and each time, he became more aggressive. But Elyne's legs were strong and he feared if he used more force, he would bruise her lovely thighs. Finally, he surged upward. Now he had control. He rolled until she was on her back and began to plunge into her like he couldn't get deep enough or fast enough to suit him. Finally, her nails scratching on his back warned him he'd best bring her release or else he'd look like a wildcat had mated with him.

  He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth to keep her from crying out.

  When she finally could think again, she giggled.

  "Funny? I guess I did not do it right else ye wouldna be grinning like a simple lass."

  "Look where we are, husband."

  "Graemme raised his head and everything looked out of place.

  They had wrestled themselves across the center of the bed until they slid onto the floor. From there, the ceiling was higher than usual and the bed appeared huge.

  Panting for breath, they sprawled twisted amongst sheets and wool blankets atop the wolf skins on the floor.

  Chapter 29

  Graemme laughed so heartily Elyne squealed and slid to his side, afore she, too, saw the humor in it.

  "Hsst!"

  They both stilled.

  "Was that ye?" Elyne lifted on her elbow and looked down at Graemme's surprised face.

  "Nay! Of course it wasna him. He was far too busy thinking on his pleasures than heeding my scratching at the door," a gravelly voice whispered.

  "Grunda?"

  She answered with a snort.

  "Ye'd best straighten yer clothing and get below. If ye had been quieter in yer loving, ye would have heard Magnus and his guards gathering in the bailey."

  Elyne's head popped up above the bed when she rose on her knees. Seeing the old woman's look of satisfaction, she grabbed her kirtle off the floor and tugged it over her head by the time Graemme adjusted his kilt and stomped on his boots.

  Picking up his sword, he whispered loud to Grunda on his way to the door, "Lace her for me, old one. She'll want to wish Muriele God speed."

  He was gone in a flash, only taking time to ease the door shut without a sound.

  "Come girl," Grunda said as she twirled her fingers in the air, "I didna wake Ada to tend ye. She and the blacksmith's son had a long night of it."

  Elyne presented her back so the old woman could pull the ribbons tight.

  "'Twas kind. Thank ye." Elyne said over her shoulders as she held the bodice up around her breasts and wriggled until the kirtle fitted comfortably. A few more quick moves and she had her shoes on and ran out the door and down to the front bailey.

  When Elyne burst through the keeps doorway, Muriele smiled and waved.

  "Ye have a rosy glow of a well sated wife, Elyne," she teased.

  "Bleh! 'Tis no such thing. The glow ye speak of is naught but from running down the staircase!"

  "Oh? When I passed yer bedchamber, I must have imagined yer voice telling Graemme he was killing ye with pleasure." She grinned and enveloped Elyne with a loving hug.

  "We will be within days of each other, Muriele. 'Tis only a half-day longer than traveling to the convent! We should see each other often."

  "Well, now, my bonnie ladies. We must leave," Magnus said.

  As the portcullis squeaked up and the drawbridge lowered, Graemme put his hands on Elyne's shoulders and moved her back from the horses. With a solemn nod at Graemme, Magnus threw Muriel up into the saddle. Once she settled her feet in the stirrups, she arranged her slit skirts to cover the knives strapped to her calves and adjusted the short sword belted at her waist. She looked the ideal warrior woman, a fitting mate for Magnus the Ruthless.

  Elyne felt a sense of loss seeing her friend waving as she crossed through the barbican and rode out over the drawbridge. After the long line of warriors left, they were barely a shadow moving through the night.

  "Why are more warriors coming out of the stables leading their mounts? And their standard bearer carries Magnus' banner?" Elyne's stomach turned, knowing the answer afore she asked. She drug her feet as he led her back into the keep to the great hall.

  "We have laid a trap for anyone looking to capture Magnus. Father sent a patrol to hide in the woods a few furlongs away, the perfect spot for an ambush. Closer to the sun's rise, I'm taking more men up the hill. They'll think I am Magnus. When they attack, they'll be surprised."

  "Won't they know ye are not Magnus when Muriele isn't with ye?"

  Graemme shrugged and didn't say anything. By the way he didna meet her eyes, she knew what he'd planned!

  "Dinna tell me ye are using Ysabel as a lure!"

  "'Twas her own idea. She went to Father and asked we do this for her. She said it would soothe her conscience for having pretended to be Muriel afore."

  "I canna believe ye'd do this! What does Colyne say?"

  "Colyne? What right does he have in this decision?"

  "Fool! He loves her." Elyne snorted and put her hands on her hips.

  "Ah. So that is the reason he insisted on arming her and having our best men surrounding her."

  "'Twill work."

  Grunda had appeared so silently when they entered the great hall she seemed to be made of smoke.

  "Aye. After ye looked into the bowl of still water and told us what they planned."

  "Their surprise will be their undoing." She heaved a sigh. "Though, their master will get away. Again. He is near mad. His leman believes he is pure and ye and Magnus are evil. He keeps his body and face hidden."

  Elyne had no stomach for breaking her fast this morn. Though the sun was not yet up, the great room was crowded with hungry men. All too soon, Colyne came
into the room with Ysabel. The resemblance was unnerving, for Elyne had to look at her up close to tell it was not Muriele.

  Why was she so uneasy about Graemme's leaving with them? Grunda assured her all was going to work out for the best. But what if the best made her a widow? Why should she care? Hadn't she wished more than once Graemme would disappear from her life? Why, she'd even disliked him so much she'd bitten him!

  When had her feelings changed to worrying about his safety?

  Too soon, Chief Angus nodded his head at Graemme. 'Twas time. The darkest part of the night was gone and the bailey filled with warriors anxious for a fight.

  It seemed like a repeating dream to Elyne when she hugged Ysabel and saw Colyne help her onto her mount. Worse was when Graemme smothered Elyne in his arms and kissed her so heartily his father chuckled. She gave him an accusing glare. What if Graemme never came back? She was near to crying.

  And she never cried! Chief Angus immediately came close, and she went from her husband's arms to his father's. Grunda stood on her other side, murmuring softly.

  "Dinna be troubled. If he does as I told him, he will return unscathed."

  o0o

  'Twas three days of being in Hades before Grunda announced the men would return when the sun was high the next day. When she awoke the next sunrise, Ada helped her with her bath. Elyne was so tense she spewed before she even had a chance to break her fast.

  "'Tis normal," old Grunda pronounced from the chamber doorway.

  "How did ye know I was going to be sick? The pork last eve must have been old. Did it upset ye too?"

  "Nay. The pork was fine. Ye'll find out soon enough what troubles ye."

  Grunda bustled about preparing hot barley water to settle Elyne's stomach.

  Soon, she went below to have a small bowl of porridge. 'Twas all she felt like eating afore she went atop the castle's wall walks to watch the hill for any signs of movement. She wanted so badly for the warriors to return that several times she imagined she saw something when 'twas only wind in the trees.

  Afore the sun was directly overhead, she saw flashes of color, and the guard at his post on the hill flashed a light twice with his polished pewter square. She watched the castle guard return two flashes.

  "Two flashes means 'tis castle patrols returning with a victory," Chief Angus said with a huge grin. "Looks like we will have time for a celebration this eve!"

  Headed for the stairs leading down into the bailey, Elyne barely heard him. Squat, who had been unusually quiet since Graemme had left, set up an earsplitting series of barks and tried to squeeze through the teeth of the portcullis.

  "Come, ye silly dog. Ye'll get yer head stuck, and then what would I do?" She grabbed him up in her arms and held him close.

  The horsemen came thundering over the cleared land. She shaded her eyes with one hand and saw Graemme galloping toward her, slightly ahead of the rest of the men. Her heart finally calmed knowing he seemed not too much worse for the fighting. Blood splattered his clothing near from head to toe, but he rode upright and strong.

  All the men wore big grins and none led horses with men slung over the saddles. When Graemme leaned over and pulled her up in front of him, Squat and all, she was happy to feel his warm body against hers. Until she became aware of the stench of blood.

  Her stomach turned and saliva gathered in her mouth.

  "Graemme! Stop, quick!"

  With a puzzled look, he did and waved the men past them. His face drained of color when she leaned over his arm and spewed her porridge, soiling not only her own garments but from his knees down to his boots. Squat huffed low in his throat as if admonishing her for squeezing him too tight.

  "Ye are ill!"

  "Nay. I thought so, too, but Grunda says 'twill pass."

  "Aye, it will," Ysabel's voice said close by. She and Colyne had drawn up beside them when they saw Elyne was in trouble.

  "'Tis naught but worry," Elyne said, trying to wipe her mouth with the sleeve of the ruined kirtle.

  "Nay. She's ailing from lack of bed sport!"

  Ysabel giggled. Colyne grinned and Graemme flashed a big smile. How could they be so carefree when she felt so unsteady? She raised her bent left arm and hit back with her elbow into Graemme's ribs. Hard.

  "Ouch! See, ye are not so ill I couldna prick yer temper!"

  He laughed aloud when she gave him a look that would have warned another man to silence.

  When they rode through the barbican, everyone in the bailey was excitedly chattering on how they had outsmarted a band of outlaws awaiting them in the forest. All but their leader had died in the skirmish. He had stayed off in the distance then disappeared in the thickest part of the fight, galloping off when he knew all was lost.

  Grunda waited at the keep's wooden stairway. Without a word, she took Elyne's elbow and guided her up to her and Graemme's bedchambers. Graemme was unable to follow, for men grabbed his arm and insisted on hearing about the fight.

  "Ada, bring hot water so we may clean this smelly girl from head to toe.

  While Grunda helped Elyne strip without soiling her hair, Ada tended to having a bath brought up. When it arrived, Grunda was gentle as a mother cat tending her kittens. While she had Elyne lean her head on the end of the tub and close her eyes, she washed Elyne's face and insisted she relax and let the warm water soothe her. Within a short time, Elyne's stomach settled.

  "See, I told ye it was naught but a slight sickness from the pork."

  Grunda rocked back on her heels and laughed. "Lass, with all the bed sport ye've reveled in for the past month, didna it occur to ye a bairn could take seed?"

  Elyne sat up so quickly water sloshed over the sides of the tub. "A bairn? But only people who are happily married produce bairns! Look at Ranald and Catalin. She even had twins!"

  "Aye, but look at yer cousin Raik and Letia. She near hated him when he got her increasing."

  Before they could argue further, Graemme barged through the doorway smiling from ear to ear. He must have bathed elsewhere, for not a bloody splatter remained, and his clothing was fresh and clean.

  "Are ye through spewing?"

  "Of course. 'Twas the stench of blood and sweat. It turned my stomach," she bluffed.

  "Sure and it was! If ye had beheaded and chopped arms off bandits, ye would be covered in slimy blood and guts, too."

  She did what any increasing woman with a good imagination would do. Turned green and gulped to keep from spewing over the side of the tub.

  "Well, piss and shite! If ye are intent on upsetting an unsettled stomach, get yerself gone from the room!"

  Graemme's laughter rocked off the walls.

  "I see ye will not mellow whilst ye carry a bairn." He shook his head and gave her a disapproving look. "Ye must watch yer words, else when ye pop the bairn out he will yell, "Piss and shite, 'twas tight in there!"

  Elyne eyes widened. He ducked and made a quick retreat afore the soapy cloth could reach him.

  o0o

  Graemme was truly happy for the first time in many years. His brother was safe from the Gunns, his father was in robust health, but most of all he had a bride worthy of a Morgan.

  She would be a strong mother for their sons.

  He turned the last step descending the stairwell when he glimpsed his father going through his solar door with a knight. He didn't recognize him, but something about his profile caused his heart to trip. Frowning, he tried to recall the face, but thinking of Elyne breeding distracted his thoughts.

  No sense wasting time trying to draw forth a memory when he had to see to his men.

  "Now Elyne is settled for a short nap, take me to the wounded men," Grunda demanded behind him.

  "Do ye think my wife will mellow now she's to be a mother?"

  "Ye dafty man. If naught else, she will become even more fierce. She will have a young one to protect."

  "Protect? I will do the protecting. Her duties will be to feed and nourish my son until he's big enough to start training
with a wooden sword."

  "Eh? Where are yer brains? She is in more danger now than at any time in her life."

  "Ye have seen trouble with the birthing?" Graemme's stomach clenched in sudden fear.

  "Nay. The birthing will go well enough. If she makes it that far."

  "That far? Ye just said the birthing will go well."

  "'Tis not all. There is a long time afore she births, ye impatient disbeliever."

  Graemme halted and turned back to her.

  "There are other things far more dangerous than birthing the bairn. Dinna let Elyne out of yer sight. She may wander the walls during the night. Above all, dinna let her leave the castle grounds. In her condition, she is ripe for waking dreams."

  "How am I to stop something within her head?"

  "By keeping her calm at all times. Her dreams lead her astray when she is upset or angry."

  They had no more time to talk, for Grunda began making order of the chaos in the men's barracks. She soon had the warriors separated according to their wounds. The less serious she left to the men's squires to attend to. The others, she treated herself.

  He stayed to help, amazed at how fast the old woman could clean, attend to the wound and place the stitches before going to the next man.

  When all the men were treated and comfortable, 'twas time for their evening meal.

  The great hall was festive this night, for they celebrated knowing Magnus and his people would arrive at Blackbriar unscathed, and the diversion party led by Graemme had been successful.

  Chief Angus had barrels of wine brought from the storage rooms on the first floor of the keep. Elyne felt refreshed and better than she had in weeks. She refused to dwell on the reason—Graemme has returned safe from harm—and preferred to believe it was because of the bairn.

  Mid-way through the meal, Chief Angus stood and announced his son's wife would provide him with a son come next spring. She felt herself flush when everyone stood and yelled all manner of advice for making sure she birthed a son. Some were so ridiculous it made her laugh.

  "Put a fresh pulled carrot with the stalk beneath yer sheets each night. 'Twill assure the bairn has a hearty tarse and hair to nest it in when he reaches his father's shoulders!"