Kagan was not going to like what was to come, but Kagan was not king and Crimm must obey a direct order from King James or have his head neatly packaged in a woven basket.
The four hundred and twenty four souls that camped below were nomads not soldiers, but they knew how to fight and they knew the land. They would use the knowledge to their advantage and defeat whatever defenses O'Donnell could put forth. Crimm eased back down the hillside and mounted his steed. An eerie feeling clutched at the back of his neck as he eased around the edge of the hill.
He would inform Kagan of the king’s orders and seek his council. Kagan could control the outcome and Crimm prayed the deaths would be small in numbers. The nomads would be viscous and relentless. If they stormed O'Donnell's home, no one would live to tell the tale and the O'Donnell clan would be erased from history's pages.
Crimm raced toward McKregan Keep, knowing it would take him at least two, maybe three, days ride to get there and that was if he did not stop to rest. He would stop at Shinonoble long enough to get a fresh horse and then on to Gildon to do the same. The blurred trees swam past as Crimm hoped the nomads would wait for the new moon and complete darkness giving him five days to return. Time could be a great enemy and now he needed a great ally.
Chapter 13
Kagan stirred as his head pounded ruthlessly and his knees ached. He pulled himself up from the floor and cursed at the dull pounding at his door. He stepped to the door and let the maids in with his bath water in tow. They dropped their eyes and hurriedly filled the tub as the laird dropped into the chair at his desk. He rubbed his temples and tried to steady his stomach with sheer will power.
He sat up as the maids noisily left with clanging buckets and loudly rustling skirts. Kagan groaned in pain as lightening flashed through his eyes. He would make Haggart wish he had never been born.
He settled into his great tub and a smile crept onto his lips. Andra would be a very pleasing wife not only in bed but in conversation as well. They would have many debates and make love every night and often during the day as well. She would come around and enjoy his rule, she would obey and act the lady while in the presence of anyone other than himself. He would take this one step at a time and she would fall hopelessly in love with him just as every other female had.
He chuckled, maybe he would only choke Haggart a little this time. Maybe.
Haggart sat before his orb in the dark recesses of his cottage and grinned at Kagan's reflection. Stubborn hopeless fool. His grin softened to a smile as Andra's sleeping form appeared in the white smoke of the orb.
She was so like her mother in all things, beauty, strength, intelligence, and demeanor. Such a lovely creature as she should have never been allowed to leave Vacrey until she was ready to bare her children. His deep ragged breath echoed in the dark room as he stood.
“Haggart, we have much to discuss. Come to Vacrey Isle and enlighten me with your presence.”
Haggart turned to the orb and teased, “Still think you can control the outcome? Your control does not extend beyond Vacrey's gates, or have you forgotten?”
Joaquinn smiled and blew a kiss to her favorite god who was chuckling as he snatched up his cane and covered the orb with a purple silk pouch. Haggart did have one stop to make before he left on his journey by air, McKregan Keep.
Sunlight poured into the room as he slid outside and whistled. From the great all seeing sky came a great white mare with a sparkling set of red eyes and a gold twisted horn. Her mane was long and black and fell in silken waves down her chest. Her giant wings fluttered as she stepped down to the earth. Her black tail swished in happiness as Haggart caressed her neck.
“It has been too long my friend,” he whispered as she snorted loudly and pushed him gently with her soft nose, “He is fine and doing very well.”
She pranced about nervously and jerked her head upwards.
“Of course, Delyia, how could I refuse?” Haggart groaned as he pulled himself upon to her bent knee and less than graciously clambered onto her back, “We will stop at McKregan Keep and while you visit your son, I will visit my great niece.”
“Me thinks the lovely lady is sad,” the old man stated as Andra looked up into his old green eyes, “Something troubles ye?”
Andra carefully watched the old man sit down across from her at the stone table she had claimed as hers. His bones cracked and popped as he melted onto the bench. She had not heard him approach and wondered where he had come from. His accent was strange and laced heavy with familiarity.
“I enjoy the peace and quiet of this garden and do'na like interruptions,” she explained as she stood. “Howe'er since ye are so old and helpless lookin', I will allow ye to visit the flowers as I take my lea'e.”
“Come now, please sit and talk ta me,” he urged as he laid a gold butterfly barrette onto the table, “We have much ta discuss, Ell'andra of Vacrey Isle, daughter of Queen JaQuay.”
Andra sat and stared at the familiar hair piece. Her hands scooped it up before she feared it would disappear.
She traced it's fine detailed lines and rubbed the emerald embedded wings with her fingertips. Green pastures, crystal clear lakes, and gigantic roaring waterfalls clouded her mind. Blackened memories and painful departures gave way to the smiling happy faces of people she had known as a small child. Visions of her mother clearly flowed in her mind and Andra cried. JaQuay hugged her six year old Ell'andra to her breast and whispered words of love and sweet dreams to her ears. Her mother’s strained voice told her to be strong and always remember her homeland. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she looked at the old man before her, whom she now knew was her great uncle Haggart.
“The spell on your memory has been broken,” he spoke in fae tongue and Andra understood, “It is now as it should have been years ago.”
Haggart bent his tired old head and whispered, “Hold it not against your father dear child, he did what he thought was best and what his heart made him believe was right. He is a father who wanted to raise his daughter in his world, by his side.”
Andra still could not find her tongue and stared mutely into Haggart's face. She wanted to hug him, kiss him, and thank him for his precious gift of memory. She closed her eyes and let the memories she had longed for fill every inch of her heart and soul.
Vacrey Isle was her home and it called to her from the farthest reaches of the sea. The soft white clouds pushed against her face and her cheeks and eyelids misted with the cool glitter of freedom, life, and happiness. Children waved at her and sang songs she suddenly knew by heart. The plateau, miles and miles of green grass and wild horses, swept beneath her feet as she soared over her home. The lakes and willowing trees called her by name and welcomed her back. Her cousins and aunt smiled as she glided through the castle she once called Mother's Palace. It's pearly white towers and gold banners shimmered in the sun and rainbows sprang from every water filled fish tank in the gardens.
She did not want to open her eyes, she wanted to stay where she knew she wanted to be all her life. She clung to the vision and cried out in heart pounding pain as she was jerked away and flung back to the stone table. Her eyes opened angrily and her cheeks flushed with innate yearning. Haggart smiled and patted her tightly clenched fist that still held the barrette.
Her head sagged to the table as she spoke in fae tongue, “Take me home. Please Haggart take me home.”
“You have two paths before you,” Haggart whispered, “One keeps you here with a man you will love and cherish no matter what he does or how he may hurt you. The other takes you home but..”
“But what?”
“Can you leave this world behind? You chose once, as a child, to go with your father. Are you sure that Vacrey has what you want?” Haggart's eyes softened and his dark orbs hazed with affection, “When you are ready to come home, you must harbor no thoughts of ever returning here. Take your time and choose wisely. If there is something here that keeps your heart the isle will know. She is part of you and knows your h
eart's desires.”
“There is nothing here,” Andra whispered, “There is only pain and heart break.”
“Take your time,” advised Haggart, “Men are not all evil and twisted. There are some of them who are worth their mettle.”
Andra's cold laugh sent a cold chill up Haggart's spine. Kagan would have his work cut out for him. Haggart hoped he was man enough to capture Ell'andra's heart and strong enough to let her leave him.
The best of both worlds.
Andra turned to the rustling noise from behind and knew Kagan was headed her way by the sound of the growl on his lips. She turned back to Haggart and stood up abruptly to his sudden absence. On the table sat a purple pouch and underneath it's silk glowed a faint white light. She swept it up and carefully deposited it into the folds of her gown.
A small piece of home.
“Andra!” Kagan bellowed as he stalked the gardens.
She had bewildered his guards and had snuck off. His temper was about to get the best of him when she popped into his sight at the stone table. She was standing, looking rather sad and lost. She reminded Kagan of a puppy he had once had as a lad.
“Stay closer to the keep and stop ye wondering about. If ye want to see more of the gardens make sure one of the guards are with ye at all times,” he gritted out between his teeth, “Ladies donna prance round like wanton barmaids in hopes of findin’ a payin’ lover!”
Andra turned from his holiness the lion and frowned, “I will do as I please milord and act as wantonly as I choose. If I find a specimen worthy of being my lover I will take into account whether or not he can afford such desires. Ye only control back rubs and nothin’ else for the time bein’.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he spat as he grabbed her elbow and spun her around to face him, “Ye will find ye place and hold ye forked tongue or I will punish ye as men are entitled to do to their wives.”
Andra glared at the beast and replied, “Ye punishment for those vile words will make ye suffer ye shaft in endless need the next time ye wish a back rub. I will rub every inch of my body all o'er ye less-than-adequate erection and when ye take ye lea'e, I will further ye punishment by roamin’ the halls of McKregan Keep in the nude! And ye will do well to commit to memory that I will ne'er be ye wife!”
The lion's roar echoed through the gardens and Andra jerked away from the beast. She stepped back and pointed her finger at him, “I am ye betrothed only by my father's words, not by mine or by my gods. I donna belong to ye Kagan McKregan and ye will'na command me!”
Kagan's nostrils flared as he growled in a foreboding voice, “Ye'r mine and mine alone. Na man has e'er raised his finger to me and lived. Ye walk dangerously close to unleashin’ my unforgivin’ wraith.”
“I am'na man, I am woman and I am'na afraid of ye or ye wraith,” she spit out the words with fire laced breath, “Take ye lea'e and forge the earth for weaklings that may cower at ye arrogant feet, for ye will'na find one here.”
Kagan's anger and bruised ego hit him hard in the chest as he grabbed her arms and threw her over his shoulder. She kicked and hit me as hard as she could as he sat down and twisted her over his knee. He gripped her thighs between his legs and jerked her skirt up onto her back as she screamed in rage, “Ye break ye oath and ye be mine to command in life or death!”
Kagan's hand was drawn back to wallop her across her backside. He paused in his fit of anger and stared at her lovely derriere.
Flawless!
She wore no undergarments and Kagan noticed tiny white slivers on her golden cheeks. They were scars, someone had flailed her. He softened his hold and turned her shoulders so that she faced him.
“Who lanced ye backside?” he asked in a deep low voice.
Andra twisted her face away and pulled from his grasp. He let her go and she fell to her knees before him. Her angry eyes slashed at the cobbles beneath her hands.
“Who?” he demanded.
Andra focused her stare on a broken stone and held back her lashing tongue. Men were beasts and deserved nothing! She remained silent and still as he stood. She begged the ground to open beneath her and take her in its grimy clutches.
“Tell me who lashed ye,” he softly demanded as he ran his hand through his hair and urged his head to stop aching.
“Pierre Guston,” she gritted, “He was my ...”
Kagan rubbed his neck as she slowly stood and faced him, “He was the man who taught me many things but most of all he showed me what men are capable of and willin' to do for their own sordid pleasures.”
She eased toward him as she continued, “Thanks to the sins of men, I know how to bring a man to his knees.” She stood before Kagan's towering frame and reached under his kilt, “Thanks to him, I know how to do this.”
Kagan frowned as she slid her fingers up his shaft and encircled his now enlarged desire. She gripped him hard and tugged gently. Kagan raised his hand to her cheek and held her face as she boldly played with his erection. He kept his eyes locked on her dark green vengeful ones as she continued.
He knew she neither enjoyed nor wanted him to enjoy her touch. Her fingers tightened as he leaned closer and she quickened her pace. His breathing became heavy and his body responded as she melted to his chest. He closed his eyes as her other hand edged up his thigh and around to his buttocks. She squeezed and tormented him as she pulled him closer.
“Hands down!” She ordered him to release her face and back. His hands dropped, “From this point on, ye will always keep ye oath in mind. Ne'er touch me less I say ye can.”
“Let me touch ye now!”
“Nay.” Her voice was cold and collected as she numbed herself to his scent.
“I want ye,” he whispered as he bent his head to her ear, “I want to lie between ye legs and...”
“And what?” She looked up and saw the passion stirring in his cool gray eyes, “Ye want to conquer me? Ye want to shove this...inside of me?”
Kagan groaned as she tugged again, “Aye.”
“And ye think I would allow ye to rip my insides apart with it? Think I would allow ye to pleasure yeself with my pain? Are ye na different than the rest of the men I ha'e known?” Her voice softened and her body sagged against his as she pelted her hand against his groin.
Kagan caught her hand and stilled her movements, “Are ye so full of spite and anger that ye would do this to a man and deny him the pleasures of ye bed? Are ye na woman enough to feel ye own lust buildin' 'tween ye legs?”
Andra stiffened, “Do ye na like my touch? Do ye na enjoy this? Has he taught me wrong? Did I ha'e to endure his bent gnarled shaft to ha'e learned nothin' at all? Did I sit on my knees 'fore him day after day, ha'ing to allow his greasy hands to roam my naked body, for the likes of ye to dare call me na enough.”
Kagan pulled back and gripped her shoulders and her hands fell to her sides, “What did he do to ye?” His heart feared the worse but his brain refused to believe the muscle that beat so hard in his chest...
Andra tried to pull away, “It donna matter, what is done is done. Did I na already tell ye I was'na the woman ye so deserve. Let go of me this instant.”
“Did he take ...” Kagan could not force the words from his tongue as he stared at her mouth.
“My virginity? Is that what ye are worried 'bout? No matter that he beat me or made me walk 'bout his quarters naked or let him touch me where na man should ha’e touched. Ye be na different than he.”
“Tell me what he did,” ordered Kagan, “Tell me ye are still intact.”
Andra's heart shattered and she knew that was all Kagan had wanted, her virginity. She bit her tongue and let it bleed so it would conceal the hurt she felt inside.
“Do ye really want to know? Would it make ye send me away? Would ye see me as a whore if ye knew the truth? What say ye Kagan? Do ye want to know?” She dropped her eyes, afraid he would see through her crumbling defenses.
“I will'na see ye as such e'en if he took from ye what should ha'e been mine
,” he whispered, “What did he do?”
“What did'na he do?” Andra jerked away and turned on her heel. She forced her head not to sag and crossed her arms at her breast. She could not bear to see his reaction. “He forced me to do things against my will, all for the sake of his pleasure and my pain. My father insisted that I learn the lessons. I e'en tried to understand from a man's point of view. If it is a virgin ye want…”
She turned to look at Kagan and tears stung at her eyes as she watched his back disappear into the garden. He was a man and cared not that she had been hurt. He only cared whether or not she was virgin. Why did it matter? Why was her heart breaking over what he thought?
Andra stalked through the garden like a mad woman for hours, fuming over Kagan's words and actions. He was pushing her beyond her control and she did not care for it. He was a brute and nothing else in her eyes. She kicked at the loose pebbles on the path and cursed at his god for making such an overbearing egotistical callous man.
She closed her eyes and envisioned him in his finest hour, atop Demon, sword in hand. His hair blew in the wind and his face was painted in crimson and silver. His war cry could be heard far and wide as he galloped across the battle field to meet his enemy. His enemy would fall like flies beneath his awesome power and survivors would flee to safety and beg his forgiveness and compassion. He was dark and proud in his victory and Andra groaned as his legs swung from Demon and he declared his victory to the land.
Even in her present state of agitation at him, she still wanted him. He was glorious and she wanted him to take her into his chiseled arms and leap onto Demon's back with her in his clutches. She wanted to ride into the sunset in his powerful arms.
A Warrior's Perception Page 13