Odin reached the culprit before Bryce and pinned him to the ground with his large paws and a snarling growl that had the soldier trembling with fear. Bryce ordered the dog away and, with one hand, hoisted the soldier up.
Charlotte was shocked to see that it was a young skinny lad in soldier dress. He looked no more than four-and-ten years if that. His face was pale; his right eye bruised around the edge, and his lower lip was split and swollen.
He tried to fight Bryce, but it was a senseless struggle. The Highlander obviously had him well in hand. It didn’t take long before his useless efforts ceased, and when they did, Bryce dragged him to a chair at the table and forced him to sit.
“What goes on here?” Bryce demanded of either Glenna or the soldier, his imposing glance darting from one to the other.
Glenna sighed. “He tells me he’s escaped the king’s soldiers, doesn’t want to be one of them.” She shook her head. “But how do I trust he tells me the truth? The king could be planting his soldiers to spy on us poor folk.”
Bryce planted his hands flat on the table beside the soldier, who had yet to look at anyone. When he finally raised his head, tears shone in his eyes.
“I never wanted to be a soldier. The king’s men came one day to my family’s croft and dragged me off, telling me it was my duty to serve the king.” He shook his head, and a tear fell. “I’m a farmer like my father. I want nothing to do with soldiering.”
“It’s a good story, but is it the truth?” Glenna said with a snort.
“What say you?” Bryce asked, looking to Charlotte. “You see more than most. Do you think he favors us with truth or tale?”
Charlotte had first sympathized with the young soldier, being so bruised and battered, but the more she watched him as he spoke, the more she questioned. His hands showed no signs of farmer’s toil. He did, however, bear the hardened mark on his finger of one who often used a bow. And it troubled her that he hadn’t referred to his father as “da,” a more endearing term than “father.” Once being forced to sit at the table, he had kept his eyes averted from the three of them, and she wondered if he had taken time to conjure tears.
“Some things don’t fit,” she found herself saying.
Bryce’s hand clamped hard on the soldier’s shoulder.
“I thought the same myself,” Glenna said, “him showing up here suddenly, weeping, yet forcing his way into my home.”
“I was frightened, afraid you’d turn me away and not help,” the soldier said, more tears filling his eyes, ready to spill over. “I don’t want to be a soldier for King Kenneth; I want to be a soldier for the true king.”
Charlotte realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth, and, surprisingly, Odin did as well. He moved closer, snarling at the soldier.
“You just sealed your fate,” Bryce said.
The soldier’s tears suddenly dried, and he paled, as if he knew that his ruse had been discovered; still, he didn’t surrender. “How? I did nothing wrong. I want to fight for the true king.”
Charlotte went to stand next to Bryce, her small shoulder brushing his thick-muscled arm. Odin moved to Bryce’s other side, his snarling never ceasing.
“I am at the true king’s service,” the young soldier claimed much too anxiously.
Bryce laughed and looked to Charlotte. “He’s like you, speaking before he thinks.”
Charlotte punched Bryce in the arm though her small fist suffered for it, not that she let him see it, though he did grin; damn him.
“You want to tell him why his own words sealed his fate?” Bryce asked Charlotte, but it was Glenna who answered.
“The true king has no soldiers fight for him. Only those who wish to be free fight with him,” Glenna said, her shoulders squaring and her chin high. “He is one of us, and we fight together.”
Charlotte wanted to hug the woman, for her words echoed her father’s sentiments and for a moment it was almost as if he were there with her. And in that moment she missed her da terribly. Without realizing it, she leaned against Bryce, and, without hesitation, he slipped his arm around her and held her tight.
How his arms could feel so familiar or so comfortable she didn’t know and didn’t care. She only knew that he made her feel safe and protected, and there was where she wanted to be.
“The truth,” Bryce demanded of the soldier.
“I speak the truth,” the soldier insisted.
“Then why did you grab the wee one here and nearly choke her?” Bryce asked.
Charlotte saw the soldier turn pale, and she quickly glanced up at Bryce. If he hadn’t been holding her tight, she would have stepped away from him; his look was murderous.
“I-I-” the soldier fumbled, trying to explain.
“The truth comes easily when you’re an honorable man,” Bryce said, and the soldier paled to a ghostly white.
“They made me do it; I didn’t want to,” the soldier cried, tears streaming down his reddening cheeks. “I told them I wasn’t good at lying, but they wouldn’t listen. It was either obey or die.”
“I don’t trust him,” Glenna said. “He lies and keeps lying. I tell you, King Kenneth is planting spies. He’s desperate to find the true king. He knows the people are against him and that the true king will soon claim the throne.”
Charlotte caught the sudden flare of the soldier’s nostrils. He was angry with Glenna’s words. He dropped his head to the table, and she assumed it was to hide his reaction, but then she noticed his hand inch down along his leg.
She shoved Bryce away from her just as the soldier flew up from the chair, dirk in hand, and lunged toward them. The tip caught her arm and would have sliced down the length of it, if it wasn’t for Odin, who launched himself at the soldier. The force of his big body knocked the soldier to the ground.
Charlotte’s eyes turned wide when she saw the soldier raise his dirk against Odin. She didn’t think; she reacted. She was suddenly lifted in the air, tucked under Bryce’s arm while he, with little effort, relieved the soldier of the weapon.
Odin stood guard over him as Bryce planted Charlotte in a chair, stuck his face in hers, and said, “Stay here; don’t dare move.” He looked over at Glenna, who had moved a safe distance away from the melee. “See to her arm.”
The woman nodded and walked over to Charlotte.
Charlotte paid her no heed, her attention remaining on Bryce.
With a sharp command, he ordered Odin off the soldier. The dog obeyed immediately, and as soon as he did, Bryce grabbed the soldier by his tunic and tossed him toward the door. The soldier scurried to his feet, but Bryce grabbed him again before he could right himself.
Blood dripped from the various bite marks to his arms and near his throat. No doubt Odin could easily have killed him, but it seemed that the large dog had simply taunted him.
Bryce dragged him to the door.
The soldier’s dark eyes glared with anger. “You will suffer for your foolishness.”
Bryce yanked the soldier right up to his face. “You want to face me in battle like an honorable man, I’m ready, unlike your king, who kills without thought or reason.”
He yanked open the door and tossed the soldier outside. He followed, Odin at his side and the soldier hurrying to get to his feet and lunging at Bryce.
Bryce deflected the young soldier with a simple shove.
He scrambled to his feet and rushed at Bryce again, and again Bryce shoved him aside. The third time he launched himself at Bryce with a fury and with a hard shove, the soldier stumbled and, unable to right himself, he fell . . . on the blade of the axe sticking out of a log.
“The fool was in a hurry to rush to his death,” Glenna spat from the open door.
Bryce turned around. “A pity he gives his life for one who cares naught for him. King Kenneth would have seen him dead for failing his mission.”
“The king is that quick to kill one of his own?” Charlotte asked with a wince, as Glenna returned to tending her wound.
&nb
sp; Bryce walked over to her and hunkered down on his haunches beside her. “The king will not be so quick to kill your da, not when he wants something from him. There is time to save him.”
He knew her worry well; she had voiced it enough times. And yet he patiently reminded her each time. She almost reached out to rest her hand on his face, so grateful was she to have him with her. And amazed at how only moments before his eyes looked ready to kill while now they were tender and filled with concern.
“Is the wound deep?” Bryce asked of Glenna.
“A scratch, nothing more,” she said. “It’s a brave one she is, defending you and the dog.”
“More foolish than brave,” Bryce said, and glared at Charlotte, their faces so close that she spotted the tiniest of scars along the top of his cheek, not at all visible otherwise.
“Aren’t we all when we protect those we care for?” Glenna said.
Bryce and Charlotte quickly turned away from each other, Odin taking the opportunity to squeeze between them and rest his head on Charlotte’s leg.
“That animal sure does love you,” Glenna said, winding a cloth around Charlotte’s injured arm.
Charlotte caught the hasty glance Bryce shot their way though he quickly avoided her eyes before they could catch his. She wondered what he thought, the look in his eyes foreign to her, though she had thought she was familiar with all his expressions.
“I better see to burying the soldier and getting those chores done,” he said. “We’ll need to be leaving soon.”
“And I have her tunic to finish stitching,” Glenna said, cleaning up around Charlotte.
“You,” Bryce said, pointing at Charlotte. “Rest!” He shook his head, mumbling as he walked out. “Ribs, cheek, arm, what’s next?”
“He favors you,” Glenna said with a firm nod.
“We just met.”
“As if that makes a difference.”
“We don’t know each other,” Charlotte persisted in protesting.
“Give it time.” Glenna smiled, her full cheeks flushing. “My William did more grumbling and mumbling around me when we first met, until he finally admitted he loved me.”
“How long before he told you?” Charlotte asked, curious.
Glenna’s grin grew. “Two weeks.”
“My da knew he loved my mum as soon as he saw her.”
Glenna nodded. “Love grabs hold hard and fast and won’t let go. “Look at that dog of yours. He knew he loved you when he first saw you, and now he’s yours forever.”
Charlotte smiled and rubbed behind Odin’s ears. “That’s true.”
“What of the Highlander? When did you know you loved him?”
“I don’t love him.” she said indignantly.
“Fighting it are you.”
“I told you we barely know each other.”
“And you told me that your da knew he loved your mum when first he saw her,” Glenna reminded. “Are you like your father?”
In some ways she was; though when it came to love, she had no idea. She certainly found the Highlander appealing though she couldn’t say she loved him. She did favor his company. And she certainly didn’t care to think of parting ways with him; the thought actually upset her.
“Love will have its way, don’t worry over it,” Glenna advised.
But how could she not worry over it?
Chapter 12
Bryce was relieved Charlotte’s tunic was mended. He didn’t need any more distractions, and damned if her breasts hadn’t distracted. It annoyed him that he couldn’t get them off his mind. And it annoyed him even more that he found them appealing. He was usually attracted to more busty women, with wider hips, and tall, women more fitting with his own largeness.
Charlotte was nothing more than a wee bit of a thing. He had lifted her and tucked her under his arm without an ounce of difficulty, and carrying her as far as he had certainly had proven no chore. She just wasn’t the type of woman he favored, yet she forever haunted his thoughts.
He kept walking, not looking back at her following, having left Glenna’s croft over an hour ago. He had yet to warn her, and most strongly, that she was never to jeopardize her life for his again. It had been the second time she had done so, pushing him out of the way in the cottage as she had done when the soldiers had attacked. And while she had prevented him from harm and even possible death, she had also taken the risk of bringing both on herself.
The thought sent an icy shiver racing through him. He didn’t want her suffering because of him. But more importantly, he didn’t want anything happening to her. Or that dumb dog that had attached himself to her as well. They made a fine pair, they did, he being nearly as big as she was little. He did like that Odin protected her though she did the same for him. Now he would most certainly worry about her putting herself in danger for not only him but the dog too.
“Something troubling you?” Charlotte asked.
Bryce stopped and turned. “You take too many risks.” He shook his head again. That wasn’t what he wanted to say. He rubbed his chin. Damn, but he didn’t know what he wanted to say, how to say it, or why he even should bother saying it since no doubt she would pay him no heed.
She stared at him but said nothing. Odin did the same.
“Did you hear me?” He nearly shouted though he caught himself before he did and, instead, kept his tone stern. “You’ll not be taking any more risks with your life to save mine.”
“Why?”
The one word shot from her mouth with the speed and force of the arrows she let loose from her bow, and when it hit, Bryce was almost compelled to take a step back. Instead, he took a firm step toward her.
Charlotte raised her hand, stopping him. “Say no more. I understand. It embarrasses you that a woman saves you from harm.”
He raised his hands, then stopped himself from reaching out and grabbing her. He noticed then that Odin was snarling at him.
“Quiet!” he commanded, snapping a pointed finger at the animal. The dog instantly obeyed. Bryce glared at Charlotte. “Why can’t you obey like he does?”
“Odin’s afraid of you; I’m not.”
“One of these days—”
“You will better understand the way of things,” she said, and stepped around him to continue walking.
He walked up alongside her. “I understand well enough. It is you who do not understand.”
“I understood the situation in the cottage most clearly,” she said, stopping and turning to face him. “You”—she poked him hard in the chest—“would have suffered a dirk to your back if I had not pushed you out of the way. If your pride was hurt, I’m sorry, but I reacted as I did to save you from harm though now I’m wondering if it was worth it.”
This time Bryce grabbed her and yanked her up, feet dangling, to plant her face in front of his. “You will not put yourself in harm’s way because of me.”
“Would you do the same for me?” she asked softly.
Her breath was warm and sweet against his face and her words tender. His glance settled on her lips, slim, pink, and moist—perfect for kissing.
The thought startled him, and it took a moment for him to regain his senses, and when he did, he grew annoyed. “You need to ask me that? Of course I would do the same. I would never let any harm befall you.”
“Then why would I not do the same for you?”
“You’re a woman.”
“And why does that matter?” she asked.
He set her down on her feet. “You are a strange one.”
“I am unlike most,” she agreed. “Is that bad? To be different? To be who I am?”
He felt a twinge of envy. He had been raised for one purpose, to help the true king. His life had consisted of constant lessons so that he could grow into the mighty warrior that he was. There had been little time for anything else; though he and his brothers had made time for folly, more time was spent on being who they were—warriors.
“I am a warrior,” he answered, as if it expl
ained it all.
“You are so much more than that.”
“How do you know?” he demanded, as if he needed her to define it for him.
“I see it in your expressions and in your actions. You can’t hide who you are.”
Her acute observations startled him though they shouldn’t have. She had the remarkable skill of seeing people for who they truly were, though, with him and his brothers, that could prove dangerous.
And though he shouldn’t have, he asked. “Who am I?”
“I will tell you what my father told me when I asked him that very same question,” she said. “That is not for me to say but for you to know, for if you need to ask it, then you have yet to discover who you are.”
“I know who I am,” Bryce protested.
“Then why did you ask me?”
He couldn’t admit that he wanted to know what she thought of him, so how, then, did he answer in a way that wasn’t as revealing? “Your observations are keen.”
“And you are curious as to what I think,” she said with a chuckle.
“Your wit is too sharp at times,” he said, annoyed. He should have known better than to think she wouldn’t catch on to what he was up to.
“You knew this of me, but you asked anyway.”
“More the fool me.”
“Curious fools discover,” she said.
“More of your father’s wisdom?”
“Wisdom helps find answers.” She continued walking, catching up with Odin, who had gotten bored and gone sniffing on ahead.
Bryce shook his head, trying to make sense of what she meant. He had been foolish for asking and foolish for being curious as to what she thought of him. It struck him then. Had he been looking at her to help him define himself more than looking for what she thought of him?
He was a warrior. What other defining did he need? He did what he had to do. What he had been raised to do. He had no doubt about who he was, yet he had asked her.
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