Broken Highlander's Blood Oath (13 page)

“Rise!” Donan shouted. “Rise!”

Analise tried to bite Armand’s hand, while he dragged her through the back door of the Abbey. Armand yelped as her bite drew blood, but when she thought he might release her, he instead lifted his free hand and cuffed her across the cheek.

The pain was shocking because it was so quick and her teeth released Armand’s hand, even while she continued to wrestle within his grasp. He'd already used every foul threat he could name, yelling them at her, trying to get her to stop hindering his escape. But nothing he could do or say would keep her from trying to return to Donan’s embrace. Nothing!

“You bitch! Quit fighting me!” Armand yelled. “You are mine!”

“No! Never!” Analise cried, while Armand manhandled her up onto a raised dais, and then he pushed her in front of a large wooden cross.

“He will never have you first!” Armand shouted, slapping her again and the force flung her backward with her spine hitting the wooden cross.

Analise slumped from the blow, dazed and clutching her cheek. Then, she felt Armand grasping her wrists. Before she could gather her senses, Armand tugged her wrists over her head. He tied her wrists to the cross above her head.

Then he stood back. He was sweating and heaving from the effort he'd used and his dark eyes were wild and angry. Analise knew that Armand had been pushed over the edge of whatever had held him back all those years. He was angry and afraid. He was cornered.

“I’ll not take the demise or land!” she cried. “I swear it. I don’t want it!”

“You are
not
married!” Armand shouted, with his spittle hitting her face.

Analise struggled against the ropes holding her wrists above her head.
He was mad—
so insane.

“It is unlawful! And here and now—” Armand flung himself around, wildly looking out into the empty church. “In
God's
House, I will fuck you, and I will wed you! It can be done!” he bellowed, turning back to her.

Analise knew that in Armand’s mind, as much as he had lusted after her and Cheval, his true terror came from losing the station he'd gained as a nobleman. Gaul had been a knight with no lands, and Armand lusted for more.

“I am
your
stepsister,” Analise cried, knowing it was futile, yet any amount of time gained keeping Armand’s hands from her was a blessing.

“Wedding a stepsister
is
legal. Kings do it!”

Analise wanted to scream at him that she was married, but she didn’t want to further incite him.

“We will simply twist the ceremony,” Armand said, reaching his hand forward. “Fuck first! Wed after.” His words gave rise to his evil cackle.

Analise screamed when Armand grabbed the collar of her gown and he ripped it to her waistline. There was nothing she could do, but toss her body helplessly, as he tore the gown from her body, leaving only the thin under-shift. Hot tears scalded her cheeks and she forgot in her terror and revulsion, not to incite Armand further, when she screamed.

“Donan!”

“That cripple will
never
save you!” Armand shouted.

Armand’s hands grabbed the bottom hem of her shift and he began tugging it upward.

“Donan!” Analise screamed, sobbing and thrashing her legs.

Crash!
 ...  The sudden crashing sound reverberated through the church, shaking the floorboards.
Clomp  ... Clomp  ...  Clomp!

Analise raised her terror-stricken gaze to see that Xavier had crashed through the Abbey’s church doors and was now trotting down the middle aisle with Donan atop him.

“Donan!” she cried, while her heart leaped.

Donan saw that Analise was hung from the cross like a barely clothed pagan sacrifice. The realization that Armand had his hands on her curving and helpless body stroked his rage, as he lifted the crossbow toward Armand with an arrow notched.

“The marriage is unlawful, Eagle! The king will listen to me! Analise is too young, and I am
her
legal guardian!”

Donan saw Armand raising a knife to Analise’s throat as the crossbow settled on his shoulder ready to shoot. He was deadly accurate with any bow, but Xavier was shuddering beneath him, trying to stay standing, while Armand’s knife was so close to Analise’s tender throat.

“It is not true!” A woman’s voice suddenly screamed from behind Donan, startling him to be sure, but especially shocking Armand. “We are twins! The
same
age, Armand. Mary was
not
our mother.”

“Cheval!” Analise cried.

“Lair!” Armand bellowed, at the same moment his knife lowered and he pointed it toward Cheval. “Lair!”

Twang!

No mercy,
flashed through Donan’s mind as he loosed the arrow that pierced Armand’s heart. Then, Xavier careened and buckled, a harsh sound escaping his nostrils as he fell heavily, this time on his side between the aisles of the church.

“Donan!” Shancy yelled, and Donan felt Shancy beside him, dragging him free from having his leg crushed by Xavier’s fall.

Jesu
, Donan realized, he’d never taken the time to tie himself in or Shancy wouldn’t have been able to pull him free. It was a miracle that he was able to use just his arms to stay aloft Xavier as the great war horse crashed through the doors of the Abbey church.

“You bloody well know how to nearly give me a stroke!” Shancy yelled at him, breathing as if he’d run a race.

Donan looked up at Shancy as they lay on the ground just beyond Xavier. Shancy still held him in his lap with his arms under his armpits. It was a wee bit like a mother holding her babe, Donan thought, and he gruffly pushed away from Shancy, until they were sitting side by side.

It was then Donan saw Analise cradling Xavier’s big head in her lap, crooning over him, while tears fell down her cheeks. A woman who looked nearly exactly like Analise knelt beside her and Donan could only assume that it was Cheval, and she had cut her sister loose. It was uncanny how closely they resembled each other.

“Will he live, Donan?” Analise asked, with her small chin trembling.

Donan leaned forward and pet Xavier’s velvet nose near where Analise was gently stroking the stallion.

“Aye, well now that he knows you’re not afraid of him, of course he will.” Analise’s lips trembled, and his hand clasped her hand, guiding her petting. “The arrow wound isn’t fatal, but it took a lot of Xavier’s heart to do what I asked of him.”

“For him to help you save me,” Analise murmured.

“Aye, lass, but with tender care and rest there is hope.”

Analise nodded with new hope shining through her liquid blue eyes.

Beside them, Shancy muttered, “The red knight got away. If Cheval had stayed where I’d told her—”

“Your order was silly. I couldn’t leave my sister!” Cheval countered, thoroughly interrupting Shancy.

Donan looked at the stubborn tilt of Cheval’s chin and the mutinous glance Shancy gave her, then he looked to Analise.

“They like each other,” Analise whispered.

“We do not!” both Cheval and Shancy exclaimed at once.

“Aye,” Donan said, and it resounded after their denials.

“Are we truly twin sisters?” Analise asked Cheval.

“Yes,” Cheval answered quickly, while she twisted a length of blond hair exactly like Analise’s around her finger. Her other hand lay over her belly, rounded in the middle stages of being large with a child. She wore Shancy’s kilt over what appeared to be a nightshift.

That was telling,
Donan thought, as he began to undo his own kilt, while listening to Cheval’s answer. He was very curious to hear the answer.

“I met a very old priest at the Abbey, Analise,” Cheval said. “So old, he remembered the old Brenin kings.”

“The old people,” Analise whispered.

“And he remembered us ... and our father.”

“Oh, Cheval!” Analise exclaimed.

Donan saw Cheval pausing as she peeked uncomfortably toward him, then toward Shancy, and then she said, “It could be dangerous to tell anyone. Lives were lost to keep the secret. To keep Analise and I alive.”

“Och, and I only just saved your life and now you don't trust me,” Shancy said, but Donan held up his hand silencing him.

“It is not that!” Cheval exclaimed, then bowing her head. “I trust you with my babe's life.”

“She’s worried for your safety, Shancy,” Donan interrupted. “But, lass, those old ties and kings no longer hold sway anymore. All your people are scattered into new people, new lands. I still agree it should be kept between us, but the fact that you and Analise are daughters of a Brenin king, is no longer so dangerous a thing to be.”

“Daughters of a king?” Analise asked, as she intertwined her fingers with his.

“Aye, lass. A princess you are. But I already knew that.”

“How?” Cheval asked.

“It was the song Analise sings. I would venture to say your father was losing his kingdom and to keep you both safe from his enemies he sent you off with someone he trusted. He also muddled the truths about your ages, and about being twins, and who your mother was.”

“Mary,” Analise whispered. “Mary must be who our father trusted.”

“Aye, but to protect you more he gave you each the song to one day sing to your husbands, giving them chance to better protect you.”

“We never had to stay beneath Armand’s charge,” Cheval spoke sharply, and with sadness.

Suddenly there was a clamor behind them and they all looked up. Donan saw his knight Dunn who appeared breathless.

He was speaking quickly as he approached, “My lords, only the red knight escaped. The rest are felled.”

“How many of ours, Dunn?” Donan asked solemnly.

“None killed, my lord, and only two wounded.”

“Good fortune,” Donan said, and then he ordered, “Have the monks bury them, and get a written account from the monks of what happened here for their king.” Donan turned to Analise and handed her his kilt, “You’ll wear the Glenncannon colors now, wife, and if any ask, you are a good Scottish lass.”

Analise grasped the kilt. “Aye, my lord,” she replied, with a fair imitation of a Scottish lilt.

“And that goes for you as well, Cheval,” Shancy added. “And you'll keep my kilt,” he muttered.

Donan looked at Analise’s smile, and he commanded, “We ride to the heather!”

Chapter Thirteen

Analise swayed toward Donan wearing an ethereal nightgown, so sheer, the curving outline of her body beneath could be seen in teasing glimpses. The airy collar had fallen down off one of her creamy shoulders, enthralling him, as the shadowy peeks of her feminine tuft aroused him.

“Are we truly husband and wife then, Donan?” Analise’s voice was husky and low; a whisper of feminine charms.

“Aye we are, wife.”

Analise’s returning smile was filled with love and the ever-present mischief that was her nature. “I think Cheval and Shancy, might be—or are a match.”

“Aye, I do too, lass,” Donan said, with a bass lilt of pleasure in his voice.

“It could be as the song then?” Analise stopped by his feet where he lay on the bedding furs, propped up on his elbows, taking in everything she offered for him to see.

“Aye, our song ... their song.” Donan lifted his gaze from Analise’s loins to her rich blue eyes. “And you cried for me, lass.”

“I did, Donan.” She nodded, swaying her honey-gold hair about her hips. “And I vowed never to walk away from you, and I promised to do anything you desire.”

Donan reached his hand up to Analise and she lowered her hand to his. She bent to do so, giving him a sensuous view of her full cleavage, while he intertwined their fingers. “And I, Analise, vow to do all that you ask of me.”

“You do?” Analise’s blue eyes twinkled as her breath caught on a smile.

Donan used a bit of effort not to add "within reason" beneath Analise’s impish and inventive nature. But aye, he trusted her with his soul. And he loved her. He would ride the merry ride she would bring to him wherever her nimble mind wished to go. And he would be pleased about it all, thanking God every day for such a miracle in his life.

“It is truly sealed, Donan, our vows as husband and wife without—” Then, Analise’s voice became a whispered purr “—without fucking?”

“Och.” Donan tugged on Analise’s hand making her to fall over his chest, while she squealed in surprise mixed with happiness. “So tis’ fucking you want, sugar lass?” His voice rumbled in a chuckle, while he turned Analise onto her back beside him, and then he leaned the top part of his body over her. “Aye, but, sweet Analise, I have fucked you pretty in my dreams.”

“You have?” She smiled, bringing her finger to his bottom lip, rubbing it softly as she gazed up at him.

“Aye, it was sweaty and rambunctious. What type of pretty fucking did you have in mind, sweet wife?”