Ravenmarked (The Taurin Chronicles) (29 page)
Her eyes widened. “What d’ye want in return?”
“Just a little water to wash up,” Mairead replied.
She hesitated before she lowered her pitchfork. “All right. Water’s inside.” She nodded toward the house.
They entered the broken down cabin to find three children huddled in a corner. Mairead knelt in front of them. “It’s all right. We’re not here to harm you.”
The children relaxed. The oldest, a girl, stood. “What’re ye doing here?”
“We brought you some meat. We killed a bear, and it’s too much for us. Could you eat the rest?”
The girl’s eyes grew wide. “A bear?”
“They’ve not had much meat since their father passed,” said their mother as she entered the house behind Connor and Mairead. A flicker of pain crossed her face. “He’s been gone two years. Was a good hunter. Brought home deer and elk and whatever else he could find.”
Mairead touched her arm. “I’m sorry.”
“We’ve done all right. We have goats and chickens. The animals provide us with much.”
“Why don’t I finish butchering the bear for you?” Connor asked.
“Oh, lad, ye needn’t—”
“I insist.”
She crossed her arms. “A wet rag won’t do ye any good, lass. I’ll draw ye a bath. The two o’ ye can sleep in the barn, if ye wish.”
Mairead smiled. “We’re grateful, lady.”
She nodded once and started to bustle around her house, giving instructions to her oldest daughter to help draw the bath. Connor went outside.
After Mairead had bathed and Connor had cleaned himself of the animal, the woman, Tarah, spitted the bear steaks and cooked them over her hearth. Mairead ate and watched the children feast on second and third helpings of meat.
When they had finished eating, Tarah showed them to the barn and returned to her house. Connor spread their blankets on fresh straw and retrieved the skin of oiska from his horse. He sat next to Mairead on one blanket and gave her the skin. “To congratulate you on your first kill,” he said.
She grimaced. “I’m not sure it went down very well last time.”
He removed the stopper of the skin and took a long drink. He nudged her arm. “Try again.”
She lifted the skin to her lips. The burn of the liquid felt oddly soothing, and she shuddered as it spread warmth through her body.
He grinned. “Was that so bad?”
She shook her head and took another drink. “It does feel good, doesn’t it?”
He took the skin back and drank. He set it down long enough to drape her cloak around her shoulders. “Warm enough?”
She nodded. She leaned back against the straw, warm and sleepy, and stared at Connor as dim light from an oil lamp flickered over his features. “It’s nice to be out of the elements for a night.”
“It is.” He reached into the pocket of his jerkin and held out three bear claws. “Here. I saved these for you.”
“For what?”
“You should wear them. It’s not easy to kill a bear. You fired true and performed under pressure. These will help you remember.”
She took the three claws. “I couldn’t do this without you. I didn’t know anything when I started this journey. You’ve been so patient and kind.” Her voice sounded far away, and her vision had grown fuzzy.
He took the skin, drank, and handed it back to her. She drank again. He put one arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She felt his lips on her head. “It’s been easy to teach you. I’ve enjoyed it.”
She sat up to look at him.
He’s so handsome—those dark eyes. What was Muriel thinking sending me with this man?
She traced the tattoos on his arm, let her fingers drift up to his shoulder, then down to his chest, just inside the opening of his jerkin.
What if I offered? Would he turn me down?
“I’m glad you’re the one the Sidh queen asked to come with me. I like being with you.”
His breath quickened. He put a hand in her hair. “I like being with you, too.”
Mairead leaned forward. “Connor . . .”
He took her hand away from his chest and squeezed it. He picked up the oiska. “I think it’s time to put this away.” He helped her lie back on her blanket and took the bear claws. “I’ll put these somewhere safe until tomorrow.” He covered her with her cloak.
She closed her eyes and sighed. “Will you lie here with me?”
He patted her shoulder. “That’s the oiska talking. Go to sleep.”
“You’re right. Thank you, Connor.”
“Good night, Mairead.”
He blew out the lamp and moved to the other side of the stall. Sleep drifted in and overtook her, and she dreamed that night of bear pelts and fires and oiska and Connor’s arms tight around her.
When she woke in the morning, Connor’s things were already packed. She started to sit up and groaned. Her head pounded and her stomach lurched. “Gods.” She fell back into the straw.
Connor’s laughter pierced her head, dagger-sharp against the pain. “Good morning, Mairead,” he said, his brown eyes sparkling with satisfaction. He wore only breeches, and his skin had a faint sheen of sweat. “Need some help?”
“How much did I drink?”
“Not that much. You just aren’t used to it.”
“You are a little too happy about this.” She pulled her cloak over her face. “Bachi’s teeth, it’s bright.”
He crouched next to her and slapped her shoulder. The vibrations sent waves of pain through her head and body. “Get up. We need to ride.”
She threw the cloak off and blinked, trying to open her eyes all the way. “Help me up?”
He held his hand out and helped her to standing.
She let out a long breath. “Everything hurts.”
He handed her a waterskin. “Drink.”
Her stomach reeled, but she sipped some water. It helped, so she sipped a little more. She blinked again.
His face came into sharper focus. “Better?”
“Yes.” She gestured to his bare chest. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
“It’s sunny out, and Tarah needed a few repairs to her house. I fixed a few things up for her.” He gestured toward the house. “She rinsed out our dirty clothes for us last night. Everything’s clean and ready to go.”
“Last night? Did you go back to the house after I fell asleep?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
She opened her mouth to ask him what he’d talked about with Tarah, but they were interrupted by Tarah’s son entering the barn. “Is the lady up? I need to milk the goat.”
Connor grinned. “I think she lives. You can milk your goat, Dylan.”
“You’ve learned the children’s names?” Mairead asked.
“It’s hard not to when you’re conscious and paying attention.” He laughed at the dark look she gave him. “It’s all right. You were a little shaken last night at supper. Come on. Tarah will feed you. We’ll say goodbye and be on our way.” He walked out of the barn.
Mairead folded her blankets. She found Connor in the house, pulling on his tunic while he talked with Tarah.
What was wrong with me yesterday that I didn’t see how pretty she is?
Her brown hair was swept back off her neck and face, revealing fine-boned features and soft blue eyes. Her figure was trim, and if her face had some wrinkles, they only served to reveal her hardships and joys.
Tarah offered Mairead a chair. “Sit, lady. I’ll bring ye porridge. Your things are washed and dried.” She pointed to a pile of folded clothes.
“You didn’t need to do that,” Mairead said.
“’Twas nothing. I’m grateful for the meat and the pelt. My boys will share it next winter.”
Though her head and stomach resisted the idea of eating, Mairead forced herself to have some eggs and porridge at Connor’s insistence. He moved about the cabin with familiarity, talking with Tarah and teasing the children.
When they prepared to leave, Connor lifted Tarah’s hand and kissed it. “Thank you for your hospitality, my lady. It was a true honor to meet you.”
Her face colored and she brushed his hand away. “Such formality. I was glad to help ye.”
Mairead gave Tarah a brief embrace, despite her hunch about why Connor had returned to the house the night before. “I thank you as well. You were a great blessing to us.”
Connor and Mairead both mounted their horses and started to ride away. Connor stopped at the barn. He pulled a heavy kerchief from his saddle and dismounted. Mairead heard the clink of coins as he tucked the kerchief inside the barn door.
“What was that for?” Mairead asked when he mounted.
“They need it. I don’t.”
She was quiet as they started to ride. “You could have given it to Tarah directly.”
“I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.”
“What do you mean?”
Connor sighed. “I thought she needed some money, and I didn’t want her to think I expected something in return. She’s a struggling farmwife with no husband and only a few friends. I didn’t want her to think I expected bedding in return for coin.”
Mairead’s stomach plummeted with shame. “You didn’t bed her?”
“No, of course not.” He turned to her. “If I’d wanted bedding last night, I could have had you.”
A warm flush crept up her cheeks. “Connor, don’t—”
“You were in no state to stop me. You even asked me to lie down with you. But I didn’t, because a woman who consents only because she needs money or because she’s drunk isn’t a bedpartner I want.”
She met his eyes. “I’m sorry.” She bit her lip. “That was a noble thing—leaving that money.”
“Not noble. Necessary.” He spurred his horse into a trot.
Mairead’s face burned with shame, and she regretted her assumptions.
I waver between wanting him closer and pushing him away, between trusting him to believing the worst of him. Will I ever figure out how to feel?
She shook her head.
A few more weeks—just a few more weeks, and he’ll leave, and then I can settle into an appropriate life without all of these questions.
But as she spurred her horse ahead to catch up, she thought of his arms around her, and she couldn’t help thinking that if he’d only settle down, he’d be a completely appropriate man for the Taurin heir to wed.
The village was a waste. The estate, the shops, the homes all gone.
The people—Mac Rian’s men brutalized the women and tortured the men.
I couldn’t serve a man who could turn a blind eye to that.
— Letter of Logan Mac Kendrick, Year of Creation 5987
As evening started to verge, Connor stopped and held up a hand. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
He motioned for silence and sat very still. “Someone’s in trouble.”
Her heart raced. “Connor—”
“Shh.” He set his horse at a slow, quiet walk along the road. He held up his hand again and dismounted. “Through those trees—hear it?”
Muffled grunts and cries came from not far away. “What is it?”
“Don’t know. Keep an arrow nocked. I’ll go see.”
She dismounted. “I’m coming with you.”
“All right, but be sure you can fire that thing if you need to.” He walked into the trees.
She followed with the quiet, creeping steps he’d taught her. He crouched at the edge of a clearing and motioned. She peeked through the trees. Three men in brown kirok robes were tied together near a wagon with a team of two horses. Five men were taking belongings from the wagon and sorting what they wanted. She started to move forward, but Connor held her back. He shook his head and frowned. She waited.
He straightened, drew his sword, and stepped out of the trees. “You can keep the books. I’ll take the holy wine.”
All five turned and dropped the items in their hands. A big man with a sword stepped forward and swung a few times, and Connor parried easily and stabbed him through the belly. Mairead gasped as the other four rushed forward. She took aim and fired, hitting one thief in the shoulder. He cursed and fell as Connor stabbed another. Connor swung back to finish the man she’d wounded. Her hands shaking, Mairead nocked another arrow and took aim, but by the time she was ready, the final two were dead at Connor’s hand.
He turned to her. “Nice shooting.”
She stepped out of the trees. “Not so nice. I hit his shoulder, and I should have had another. I froze.”
“But you fired when you needed to, and you disabled him. It’s a start.” He knelt.
Her knees threatened to crumble. “Are they all dead?”
“Yes.” He sliced one man’s throat. “I like to be sure.”
She couldn’t look at the bodies. Instead, she approached the bound men and sliced their ropes off. “Thank you, my lady,” the oldest kiron said, bowing. He had wispy gray hair and a stern, lined face, but his voice was deep and soothing. “They were preparing to haul us away to slavers. I feared I’d never see my country again until you and your champion came along.”
The kiron’s two companions stretched and rubbed their wrists. One was tall, lank, and plain with a dark, pock-marked face, and the other had a muscular build and a charming smile. His eyes skimmed Mairead quickly, and she crossed her arms and cleared her throat. “I’m glad we could help. Are you all well?”
“Yes, thank Alshada. They hadn’t done more than surprise us and tie us up.”
Connor joined them then. “What did you have that they could want?”
“I don’t know. I’m a member of the Order of Sai Johan. I can’t imagine they would want my books. Perhaps they thought I was a merchant.”
“Perhaps.” Connor sounded doubtful. “If you’re all right, we’ll be on our way.”
“Connor.” Mairead drew him to one side with a hand on his arm. “We could camp with them one night, couldn’t we? I haven’t spoken to a kiron in so long. It would be nice to pray for those men who died.”
He frowned and leaned down to her ear. “I don’t trust this, Mairead. There’s something not right. I have a bad feeling.”
“What kind of feeling?”
“I don’t know.” He hesitated. “How do you know the man who’s been following us didn’t send these to kill or capture us?”
“They’re just kirons. I’m sure one as vile as the one who’s been tracking us wouldn’t want anything to do with kirons.”
He didn’t look convinced.
“Please?”
His mouth tightened. “All right. But I want you close tonight—no sleeping across the fire or the clearing. I don’t trust these men.”
Her heart raced. “They’ll think we’re—” She couldn’t finish the thought.
“Pretend to be my wife if you must.”
The men had started to pack up their wagon.
If I want to spend time with a kiron, I need to decide now
. “All right. I’ll pretend to be your wife, but only until we part with them.”
“Tomorrow,” he said.
“If it makes sense.”
He nodded, grudging. He turned back to them. “Where are you going?”
“Where Alshada takes me.” The kiron smiled at them. “I don’t have a permanent kirok. Men of my order travel and minister to the needy and the faithful wherever we are led.”
“It’s nearly night. Why don’t we camp together?” Connor asked.
The kiron bowed. “We would be grateful for the protection. I’m Gavin.”
Mairead felt heat rise in her face. “I’m Mairead and my husband is Connor. We’ll be happy for the company.”
Lying to a kiron. Alshada, forgive me.
Connor and Mairead fetched their horses, and Mairead started to pull food out of their packs. Connor put a hand on her arm. “Nothing we have to cook,” he said, low.
“Why?”
“I want our supplies to stay packed in case we have to run. Just take out fruit and jerky. And the bread Tarah gave us, if you’d like.” His eyes narrowed. “Keep your daggers on you, too.”
She scoffed. “You’re being overcautious. They’re just kirons.”
He frowned. “No, they’re not.”
The kirons cooked their own supper and offered some to Connor and Mairead, but Connor turned them down. He did offer his oiska, however. All three men turned it down. “Alshada demands our abstinence,” Gavin said.
Connor shrugged. “As you will. It’s some of the best.”
Mairead frowned. “You know servants of the kirok don’t drink,” she whispered.
“I know.”
She grimaced.
He wanted to see if they’d drink it because he doesn’t trust them.
When supper was finished and prayers spoken, Connor spread his blanket on the ground and took off his jerkin, tunic, and boots. “We should get an early start tomorrow,” he said, laying his sword next to him. “This weather is too good to waste.”
Mairead sat next to him on the blanket and took off her boots and weapons. She stared at his bare chest.
I don’t know if I trust myself. I think I trust him more.
She worked at unbraiding her hair. “You don’t think you can leave your tunic on tonight?”
He laughed. “You should be happy I’ve kept my breeches on at night since we started this journey. People were meant to sleep naked.”
“Don’t you ever get cold?”
“Not really. I get warm and I sweat, but I don’t get cold like other people do.”
“Does it have something to do with your blood?”
“Some Sidh have the same resistance to cold, but they’re all stone talents.”
“Is it the ravenmark?”
“Perhaps.” He grinned. “You’re stalling.”
Yes, I am.
She swallowed, ran her fingers through her hair, and lay on her side facing him. “I think these kirons are honest enough. Don’t you?”
“No. Something isn’t right with them. I can’t place it.”
She sighed. “You just don’t want to be around kirok people.”
“Have I made a secret of that?”
“No. I just thought—”
“That you could change me? Save me?”
She couldn’t answer. She rolled to her back and pulled another blanket over her. “Good night, Connor.”
He inched closer and propped his head on his hand. “This will never do.”
“What?”
“You just lying over here, ready for sleep, without so much as a good night kiss for your husband.”
“You’re such a rogue.”
He laughed. “I’m serious. Do you want them to think we aren’t really wed?”
She rolled away from him. “Let them think we’re fighting.”
Silence, and then his breath next to her ear and his hand on her hip. She closed her eyes and shivered. “Do I make you nervous, Mairead?”
“Yes.” She rolled to her back again to look up into his eyes. His hand slid across her belly, and he hooked his thumb into the top of her breeches. “Connor . . .”
“Just one good night kiss. Just to make it look real.” His face hovered over hers with a teasing smile. “You still owe me a kiss for that bruise.”
She sighed. She raised her head and kissed his cheek. “Will that do?”
“It was a much bigger bruise than that.” He lowered his head, and she drew a sharp breath in as his mouth met hers.
His lips were soft and practiced; she tasted the oiska on his mouth. He kissed her first with a lingering flutter, drew back to look at her, and leaned in to kiss her a second time. His hand slid down to her thigh and tightened. She lifted her hand to his head and ran her fingers through his coarse hair as he pulled her closer. Without her permission, her body pressed itself against his. His tongue teased the inside of her mouth, and his teeth pressed with gentle, insistent pressure on her bottom lip before he drew away.
His voice was rough and low when he spoke. “That’s how I would say good night to my wife. If you were my wife.”
She pursed her lips. “Is that all?”
He kissed her once more, quickly, his lips fluttering away just when she wanted more of them. “No.”
“What—”
He leaned down. The scent of him—leather and sweat and steel and oiska and magic all together—made her head reel. He bit her earlobe as if he were savoring a very sweet, ripe plum. “Do you want me to tell you? Or would you rather I show you?” His leg slid up her thigh and between her legs.
Yes, show me.
She hated that her voice shook when she spoke. “C-Connor, you sh-shouldn’t—”
He put his lips on hers again. She whimpered. Her arms felt weak, but she forced them around his neck.
Keep doing this!
He pulled her close, one hand holding her firmly against him. She felt a warm ache between her legs.
This is what Sayana Muriel warned me about. He makes me want to sin. How can he—?
He finally drew away, a wicked grin planted firmly on his mouth. “Good night, Mairead.” He rolled to his back next to her.
There are no words . . .
She lay staring at the stars for some time, unable to sleep, her heart racing. She prayed he couldn’t hear it. She finally rolled to her side and propped her head up. In the dim light of the fire the tattoos on his arm wove together in a sensuous dance. “Do you . . . How do you . . . I mean, what makes you pursue a woman?”
He rolled to his side and propped his head on his hand. “Why do you ask?”
Because I want you to pursue me. How can I say that?
“I’m curious.”
“I’m not a book for you to study, Mairead. It’s not something I can put into an equation or a map or formula.” He grinned. “I think you want to know if I’d take you to bed.”
“What if I did?”
Where did that come from? When did I become so bold?
She clenched her hands together to stop them from shaking as heat rose in her face.
He laughed. “I don’t know. Ask me and we’ll find out.”
She closed her eyes. “If I were some other woman, would you?”
“A woman like you? Beautiful, educated, kind? It would be a great privilege to have you in my bed.” He leaned closer and his mouth hovered near hers again. “If you were some other woman, of course.”
Some other woman . . .
“How can you go from woman to woman—”
“It’s only with their understanding and consent.” He chuckled. “Don’t feel sorry for the women I’ve been with, Mairead. I assure you they have no regrets.”
Even Aine?
He wouldn’t say what happened with Donal and Aileen’s daughter. She didn’t want to think him capable of siring a child and leaving, but he said he didn’t want a wife or children. Still, Donal and Aileen were grateful to him.
If I knew what he did, if he’d tell me, maybe I could . . . Gods, how can I think of that? But he feels so good. Did he feel good to Aine, too? Why won’t he tell me what happened?
He put a hand on her cheek. “What are you afraid of?”
“You. This. I can’t—shouldn’t—”
“There’s no sin in a kiss.” His lips found hers again.
Mairead’s stomach lurched, and Muriel’s cautions tumbled through her thoughts.
Men think only of bedding a pretty girl. Men think of satisfying their basest desires. Alshada has given women the greater strength for the greater duty—to remain chaste until marriage. You, Mairead—you are the last of your line. You must remain chaste until you wed.
She bolted upright and put her hand over her mouth. “This isn’t right. This isn’t—”
He sat up next to her. “Mairead—”