Susan King - [Celtic Nights 01] (16 page)

She stared up at him without flinching, her breaths rapid against his chest, her body supple and warm. His own body pulsed at that sweet pressure, and his blood surged, filled with sudden fire. But he gave no clue to what he felt, keeping gaze and grip constant.

He waited for her to react, waited for her to understand, finally and utterly, that he would not harm her or her clan.

The cadence of her breath calmed, but he could feel the deepening thud of her heart against his chest. She seemed to grow even warmer in his hands.

If she continued to burn like a candle flame before him, he thought suddenly, if her natural fire ignited his passion any further, he would find it immensely difficult to honor his intent to leave her be.

She angled her head toward his, looking up at him with a deep spark in her blue eyes. Her soft, rosy lips were but a breath from his. He lowered his face until her skin radiated warmth near his. She closed her eyes slowly. He fought his urges and struggled against something he had underestimated when he had drawn her toward him.

"You see," he finally murmured, "I can resist your lure, though I hold you as close as a lover. No matter that I feel a strong urge to satisfy my needs... and yours," he added, watching her lids lower and lift in an instant of truth. "So believe that I have enough honor to see that your kin, and your land, remain safe and unharmed."

"Let me go," she whispered.

He opened his hands slowly. She stepped back. As soon as their bodies parted, Sebastien felt something intangible within him tug and protest. He folded his arms over his chest.

Alainna stared at him, her chest heaving deep and slow. He reached out and supported her chin with his fingers. "I was sent here to be the champion you requested. But you must trust me."

She closed her eyes briefly. "I cannot," she whispered.

He stroked his thumb over the clean line of her jaw. "We both have temper and pride, and those are not easily forsaken for peace. But I must do what the king bids me to do. I will leave you in peace as soon as I can. You will find life more secure for your clan when all is said and done."

"You mean to leave?" she asked.

"I must return to Brittany," he said. "Though I am baron of Kinlochan, though I will soon be wed to you, I have matters to attend to there, other properties, other... other ties. It is not unusual for knights to travel a great deal and leave their homes and wives for long periods of time."

"I see." She closed her eyes, this time over a glistening of tears. Sebastien felt that odd tug in his chest and gut again. He slipped his fingers along her cheek, surprised as much as compelled by feelings far deeper than lust but somehow inexplicable.

A tear slid free from her closed lids. She tipped her head out of the cup of his hand and turned away. "If I see that you bring some benefit to my people," she said in a husky voice, "I will make some peace with you. Not until then. It is all I can offer you."

She walked toward the long, low bench that held a partially carved slab of gray limestone. She pushed her long braids behind her shoulders, then picked up an iron chisel and a wooden mallet, and bent to her task.

She angled the chisel blade against the roughened surface of the stone. With the rounded, battered mallet, she beat a rhythm of strokes against the tip of the chisel's wooden handle.

Sebastien knew that the resuming of her work was meant as a dismissal. He decided to be obtuse about the hint, for there was much he wanted to learn about this intriguing girl and her curious work. He came closer and looked over her shoulder.

"Which story is this one?" he asked. The surface was still flat and smooth in places, covered with light sketches. Alainna maneuvered a toothed chisel blade over areas where her tools had already bitten into stone. The cleared stone cast the flat, original level of the surface into raised relief that would be enhanced by detail and finishing touches as the work continued.

"This," she said after a few moments, "is the story of the Stone Maiden, who died beside the loch."

"I am eager to learn that particular story."

"I will tell you," she answered, "someday." Her mallet thumped and the chisel faintly clinked against the stone.

Sebastien watched her edge the blade around a sketched border of interlacing vines, similar to those he had seen on the other stones. The center scene showed two figures beside what must be the loch. The design was rough and unclear as yet.

She was silent while she focused on her work, After a few moments Sebastien straightened. "My lady, I thank you for showing me your work. 'Tis remarkable. I will leave you in peace for now. I want to seek out my men and some of your kinsmen to ride the boundaries of Kinlochan's lands."

"Please tell them I will come to the hall soon myself," she said without looking up from her work. "I want to speak to my kinfolk about the contents of the king's writ, and I must tell them about the... marriage we are ordered to make between us."

"Would you like me to be there?" he asked quietly.

She did not answer for a moment as she tapped the chisel over a small area of stone, and bent to blow the dust away.

"I would rather talk to them alone," she said finally.

He murmured assent and farewell. She did not reply and did not look up.

As he walked across the bailey, the steady pounding of her mallet sounded like a fast, passionate heartbeat.

Chapter 10

"We must talk to Father Padruig soon," Una said. Beside her, Morag and Beitris nodded earnestly.

"We will all go see the priest on the Sabbath in a few days," Lome announced, looking at his kinfolk from his seat beside Alainna. "No doubt the knights will want to see our parish church of Saint Brighid, where Alainna and Malcolm did so many fine stonecarvings."

Niall and several others nodded agreement. "We will ask Father Padruig to arrange the marriage," he said.

Alainna sighed. To her dismay, none of her kin had protested the king's decision. They had listened and had asked careful questions, but no one had shown the anger and fear she felt herself, and half expected from them. Even Niall and Lulach had nodded in somber agreement.

"But the knight is not the Highland warrior that you wanted me to wed," she protested. "He is Norman."

"Ach,"
Lulach said. "We need warriors to fight for us, and with us. These are strong young men with fine weapons, sent by the king on our behalf."

"This knight and his men are willing to defeat the MacNechtans. We are fools to refuse that," Donal added.

"No one said they were going to defeat the MacNechtans—" Alainna began, but Niall leaned forward eagerly.

"We will live in peace once the Normans slay the MacNechtans," he said. "With our help, of course. Normans cannot defeat Highlanders alone."

"Their weapons and armor, and their horses, will hinder them," Lulach said. "They will need us with them." He looked pleased. "We will have a strong warband once again with these Normans to march behind us. I wonder how many the Breton knight can summon from the king's forces."

"He brought twenty men," Donal said. "We should ask for two hundred more."

"Two hundred!" Alainna burst out. "And just how are we to feed two hundred knights and their horses?"

"You say he will build a castle here and establish a garrison in it," Lulach said. "Clan Laren will be strong again."

"I thought some of you would be angry at their coming here," she said. "But you want to support them."

"We knew what the coming of the Normans meant without hearing what the king's writ says," Lome said. "We all agreed it is a necessary thing."

"We cannot ignore a king's order," Niall said. "He has the right to take the land away entirely. But now Clan Laren can keep rights to the land through your marriage and your children."

"Are we so foolish as to try to hold Kinlochan ourselves, the few of us, with one stubborn girl to lead us?" Lulach asked. "We have no choice but this. It is clear to all of us."

"All of us but Alainna," Niall said. "Think, girl."

"Where is the pride of this clan when Normans come in and take over Kinlochan?" she demanded.

"We are proud, but we are practical," Donal said. "Hot pride is better suited to hot youth. We are old, we, and cooler in heart and mind than we used to be."

Lome leaned toward her. "Small kettles boil over, while larger kettles simmer and keep. We have seen tragedy, and we have watched our clan diminish until only a handful of us are left. We are old enough and wise enough now to know when a thing is to be resisted—and when it is not."

"MacNechtans are to be resisted," Donal said. "King's will is not, when it benefits us."

"Our name will be gone forever with this marriage!" Alainna said. "Kinlochan will belong to le Bret and not MacLaren! How will that benefit us?"

"Ach!"
Una wagged her hand in dismissal. "You can convince that one to take our name for his own. It will be simple to do."

"I cannot convince him! He is determined to keep his name."

"You will change his mind," Lome said firmly.

"Ask him to allow your children to carry our name," Morag said. "He can keep his own, if it matters so much to him. Scottish women do not take their husband's names for their own, so it is only the names of your children that must be MacLaren."

She frowned. "He will not agree to that."

Lome folded his arms over his chest and smiled at her. "There is time. Somehow there is a way. I feel this in my bones. Do not fret."

"His bones are accurate about many things," Una said. "When he feels a thing, it is so."

Alainna sighed, feeling as if an additional weight had been laid upon her shoulders. Her kinfolk were utterly convinced that the knight would give up his own name for theirs. But they had not spoken to him about the matter; they had not seen his rocklike stubbornness. The task of convincing him seemed like the greatest challenge she had ever faced.

"I do not think I should marry this man," she ventured. A gasp went around the room. "It is not the best thing for us."

"You will marry this one," Una said. "It is the wise thing to do for the clan. And for you," she added.

"He is a fierce warrior," Niall said. "He slayed a boar as great as the one that killed the hero Diarmuid in the old tales!"

"He tells a good tale," Aenghus said. "A m-man who tells a good tale has a g-good heart."

"He has men at his back willing to fight," Lulach said. "What more can we want than that?"

"And he is a golden man, like Aenghus mac Og in the old tales," Beitris said. "A man to make hearts flutter."

Niall and Donal grumbled, and Lulach frowned at his rotund wife, who had gone red-cheeked at her own boldness. Una and Morag smiled and cast glances at Alainna, who scowled at all of them.

"We must fetch the priest and get this done," Una said.

Alainna felt as if a strong wave swept her along against her will. "But the banns must be posted for three Sundays," she protested.

"Banns, bah," Lulach said disdainfully. "What do banns matter when none of us can read?"

"No banns!" Niall said. "We cannot let Cormac learn of this before the marriage!"

"Cormac cannot read either, you idiot," Lulach barked.

"We must get the marriage done before he gets word of it!" Niall insisted. "He will be furious. He cannot be made furious until we have all the king's men here."

"True," Lome said. "When Cormac finds out, he may attack."

"Sebastien le Bret plans to speak to Cormac," Alainna said.

"Hah!" Lulach burst out. "Speaking is a waste of time! Fighting, now, that will accomplish something."

"Giric will fetch Father Padruig," Una said, looking around. "Where is he?"

"He is in the stables with the knights, preparing to take them out to show them the boundaries of Kinlochan," Alainna said.

"We must have a feast," Beitris said to Una and Morag. The three women began to chatter about the plans.

"Padruig loves a feast," Niall said. "He will be glad to come here with the promise of meat and drink and stories."