In the Arms of a King (My Warrior Lover) (4 page)

Blaine raised a goblet of wine. ‘I ask you all to raise your glasses, and drink a toast with me – a toast to Scotland, and to our inevitable victory.’

All around the room, goblets and glasses were raised, and there was a roar as everyone in the assembled crowd drank the toast. Everyone, that is, except for one. Eithne sat silently and watched…her arms folded over her chest. And when the toast was done, she stood up and called out defiantly across the room. The crowd fell silent as her words echoed around the hall.

‘Blaine, we are all with you, do not doubt that. Every Scot in this room will fight with you to the death. Yet not everyone in this room is a Scot. You have our undoubted loyalty…but how can we be sure of your commitment when you have brought the enemy into our midst?’

There was a rumbling of assent around the hall, and Blaine sensed that Eithne had raised an issue that was troubling many of them. Damn that woman. But it was better to raise the issue now and clear the air, rather than have it fester and come back to haunt him later. He glanced at Sabina, who was unaware that the conversation had now been steered in her direction. Blaine drew himself up to his full height.

‘My fellow countrymen, many of you will be wondering why I have brought a Roman woman into Camlan. But this woman is no ordinary Roman girl. She has already proved herself to be as loyal to me as any Scot in this hall. Just a few days ago, on my way here, I was waylaid by slave traders and traded to the Romans. Luckily, they had no idea who I really was, or the story would have been very different. But I would still be in Roman captivity now if this woman here – Sabina Maximus – had not bargained for my freedom. So remember, your King is here today because of her only. If anyone wishes to question her loyalty to me, or my decision to bring her here, then they must answer to me.’

Blaine crossed his arms and scanned the room. When he spoke, his voice was measured but firm. ‘So is there anyone here who wishes to defy me?’

All eyes in the room turned to Eithne. She stood uncertainly for a moment, then sat down frostily, with fury written across her face. Blaine raised his goblet again.

‘Let us drink one more toast, then…to Sabina Maximus – the woman who gave you the gift of your King!’

There was just the merest moment of hesitation before his people responded. But when they did so, it was to noisily endorse their king. Glasses and goblets were raised, the toast was drunk, and then thunderous applause broke out around the hall. Blaine looked at Sabina, who seemed bewildered by the events unfolding around her.

Then at Blaine’s signal, the feast began.

***

To say that Eithne was furious would be a serious understatement of the way she felt. She sat in the hall, watching her compatriots tucking into the feast with enthusiasm that made her sick. For her, everything was going wrong.

Ever since she was a child, her destiny had been entwined with that of Blaine. Both of their fathers – indeed all four of their parents – had agreed that a marriage between them would be good for Camlan. It would unite two of the most powerful families and cement a strong and powerful heritage for the future. Even when the Romans came, that dreamed persevered. The peace treaty with the Empire promised stability and prosperity for everyone. She had grown up believing that one day she would become Queen, and bear Blaine’s children. Her son would be the heir to the throne, and one day he would be the King himself.

But that wasn’t all. Her dreams were not solely founded on ambition. There was a physical attraction, too. Even when they were children, Eithne had felt herself drawn towards the handsome and confident young man. And now that he was a fully-grown man, Blaine was a fine specimen of Pictish manhood. Tall, broad-shouldered and handsome, he was everything Eithne had dreamed he would become. Many times she had fantasized about the adult Blaine returning to take her in his arms, to seduce her…to make love to her.

Now all of her dreams were shattered…shot to pieces. And all because of that god-dammed Roman bitch. Just when Eithne thought her dreams were about to come true, Blaine had brought back some foreign tart with pert bosoms and a ‘please-fuck-me’ smile. Not just any foreign tart, either.

A Roman. 

A fucking Roman.

What kind of an insult was that?

Eithne sat and glared at Sabina. Who the hell was this woman? If she had the power to get Blaine released, she must have some influence at the fort. She was no servant, that was for sure.

The feast was turning into a noisy and boisterous affair, with lots of laughter and chattering. No-one would notice her if she slipped out. Eithne stood up and made her way quietly to the exit. A few minutes later, she was in the roundhouse where Sabina had changed, and was checking the clothing she had left there. It was the stola – the over-tunic – that gave her away. It was made from high-quality linen that had come from the Mediterranean, and was edged with the expensive purple dye that indicated status in the world of the Romans. So who the hell was she exactly?

Eithne thought for a moment. What was her name again? Blaine had announced it twice. Sabina Maximus. And then a smile crept around Eithne’s mouth. The new Roman commander was named Lucius Maximus – everyone in these parts knew that. Sabina Maximus was too young to be his wife…but just the right age to be his daughter.

Eithne replaced the clothes exactly as she had found them, with plans and ideas rattling through her brain at lightning speed. Then she hurried back to the feast. She couldn’t afford to be missing for too long. But at dawn tomorrow, she would be leaving the village on a mission that had some very interesting possibilities.

4: The Pleasure of His Touch

As the feast progressed, Sabina became more and more aware of the enormous step she had taken. Here she was in a strange and baffling world that was so different to the one she had known all her life. She couldn’t even understand a word of the language, and that made her feel more alienated than anything else. She sensed that people were talking about her, but she had no idea what they were saying, or whether it was bad or good.

However, she was reassured by Blaine, who stayed close by her side and talked to her as if she belonged there. Talorc, too, was warm and welcoming – careful to avoid probing questions, but willing to make her feel she was amongst friends. But she knew not everyone was her friend here. Least of all Eithne, whom she had seen sneaking out of the hall in a hurry, giving Sabina a filthy glare as she left. What was all that about?

Eventually, the feast ended, and the Scots drifted away into the night. Blaine was one of the last to leave, stopping to chat politely with many people, presumably his old friends and associates. Eventually, he took Sabina by the hand and led her out of the hall. They crossed the compound and arrived at a large roundhouse that stood a little apart from the rest.

‘This is home for the time being,’ he said, leading Sabina inside. ‘Not what you are used to, I know…but we will be comfortable here.’

True enough, this was nothing like any home she had ever stepped in before. On the inside, the roundhouse was a single large room, with one section separated off by a cloth curtain. A fire burned on a stone hearth in the center of the room, and the ground was thickly covered with straw. The heat from the fire was enough to keep the room warm and cosy, despite the dipping temperatures outside. Blaine led Sabina through the cloth curtain, and she realized this was the sleeping section. There was a wooden bed in the center of the area, covered with pretty and expensive looking embroidered blankets. It seemed this simple roundhouse had been hastily upgraded to a royal quarters on Blaine’s arrival.

The room was lit with candles, maybe a dozen of them spread around the room. The effect was to make the room look quaint and charming.

Blaine led her over to the bed. ‘Not what you might call a royal castle, but this is good enough for now. Just having you here with me makes the place seem more wonderful than any other room I have slept in.’

‘It’s fun,’ Sabina said. ‘It’s been a long day. I’m just happy to be ending the day next to you. It’s all been so stressful and challenging. I just need you to hold me, to know that you want me here with you.’

Blaine pulled her towards him. ‘You wouldn’t be here unless that was what I really, really wanted. It was a difficult decision to make – I knew there would be those who saw you as an enemy and not as a friend.’

‘Then why bring me? You could have just walked away from the fort without speaking to me. It would have been the easier thing to do.’

Blaine lowered himself onto the bed, sat her on his lap and stroked her hair. ‘On the contrary, that would have been the harder thing to do. Ever since I met you on the beach, you had been in my thoughts all day every day. I just couldn’t get you out of my head, no matter how hard I tried. And then when you stood up for me and won my freedom…well, that was it. So when I saw you outside the fort, I knew the last thing I wanted to do was walk away and never see you again.’

‘I’m just another girl. But you…you’re the head of your clan. Heck, you’re a king. Why would you want to get mixed up with someone like me?’

‘Well, that’s the thing that really blew me away. You see, all my life I have been the heir to the throne. That’s a wonderful thing, but it also brings many challenges. You never know who you can trust. Are your friends real friends, or are they just after your power and influence? Is that woman really attracted to you, or is she just another gold digger? But when I met you, everything was different. I wasn’t a King. I was just some ragged Scot who was on the beach at the right time. You put yourself out on a limb for me when you had no idea who I was. What the hell would it have mattered to you if some Pict prisoner was taken away into slavery? But the fact is, it did matter…and you did care. That was enough to make me fall for you.’

‘I felt the same way about you,’ Sabina replied. ‘You didn’t have to risk your life to save me. In fact, another dead Roman would be a good thing as far as many of your people are concerned. But you put everything on the line to help someone who should have been your enemy.’

Blaine slipped his arms around her waist. ‘It would have been a tragedy to have seen such a beautiful face as yours washed up on the shore as dead meat. You were worth saving, I’m absolutely sure of that.’

Sabina didn’t get a chance to reply. She felt Blaine’s lips seeking hers. The touch of his flesh against her skin immediately flipped some unknown switch inside her body and she let out an involuntary gasp. His hand snaked around behind her and stroked her back, making her almost shudder with anticipation. His body felt so strong against hers, so calm and in control. She could understand why other women of the clan had desired to seduce him. Even without his power and status, he was a man who could make women melt with desire. Sabina had heard that Celtic women had more status than their Roman counterparts. They could marry for love, own property and even fight in battle alongside men. A few became Queens and ruled their clans with as much vitality and strength as any King. Yet Sabina could understand how these women would easily submit to the alpha male strength that Blaine radiated in spades. Why fight for power, when you could simply lie back and enjoy the domination of a warrior king?

It was a cheeky thought, and it made her giggle, even while Blaine was kissing her. He pulled away momentarily, a puzzled look on his face.

‘What’s so funny?’

Sabina couldn’t find the words to explain. ‘Me, you…this whole situation. I can’t believe I’m here.’

‘Don’t think about it…don’t analyse it. Just enjoy the moment. This may be the last night we have to be together. We must make the most of it.’

Sabina was not giggling now. ‘What do you mean…the last night? Why should it be our last night?’

‘I am a warrior, remember,’ Blaine said softly. ‘Warriors fight battles, and people get killed in battles. I could die tomorrow, or the next day. Our kings do not fight from the rear like your cowardly Roman generals. We ride alongside our warriors into battle. We lead the charge and meet our enemies head on. We face death in the face, and if destiny decides our fate is to die in the heat of the battle, then so be it. So we must live every day as if it is our last…and the same for every night.’

Sabina nodded her understanding. ‘Then if this is perhaps our last night, we must make love like man and woman have never made love before.’

‘I was counting on it.’

Blaine rolled backwards, pulling Sabina with him, so that she tumbled over him and ended up lying on the bed beside him. In the half light of the candles, his face looked more rugged than ever. His long, red hair framed his face, and his growing stubble gave him the savage look that turned her on so much. She felt that their pairing was so exactly right – his male toughness against her feminine softness, the one complementing the other in the way nature intended.

Blaine stroked his hand across her chin, and then let his fingers descend playfully down her neck, then lower still to walk across her breasts. He slipped his hand under the material of her blouse and felt her nipple. Her reaction was involuntary and instant – another quick gasp of excitement, the feeling of her nipple hardening under his touch, and the sudden sensation of wetness between her legs. How could he affect her so much and so quickly? Why did her body yearn to yield to him, to luxuriate in the pleasure of his touch? She couldn’t answer the questions; she only knew that she wanted more of what she was feeling.

Luckily, there was plenty more where that came from. Blaine unclasped the silver brooch that fastened her clothing and let the cloth slip sideways to reveal the bare flesh underneath. Her breasts burst free, too young and proud to be fettered. Blaine fell upon them hungrily, taking first one in his mouth and then the other. She felt the stubble on his chin rub against her skin as he licked her nipples and kissed the soft, sweet flesh of her bosoms. For the first time in her life, she felt like a fully-grown woman, not just a teenage girl with rampaging hormones. This wasn’t some adolescent pash, this was making love – two adult humans embracing the emotions of love, lust and desire.