Time After Time (108 page)

“I agree, as leader,” Bearach stepped forward, “with Kaireen. I see my father’s eyes in Elva, speaks the truth. Enough blood has been shed today. We all paid dearly, I—my son.” His voice cracked, but he continued. “What shall be done with this traitor?”

Shouts rang through the crowd. “Burn her. Kill her. Throw her in the pit.”

“To kill her will lessen her deeds.” Bearach nodded. “Tie her. We take her back home.”

Angry murmurs rose from the O’Neill clan. Bearach folded his arms. “I am laird now. We throw her in the pit for her memory to keep her company. I want her to suffer every day until she dies for what she has done.” He shook his head as she cursed, passing him. “Perhaps God will give her mercy, for I cannot.”

Chapter Thirty-two

Kaireen trembled with memories from the battle. It had taken all of her strength to lift Bram’s sword. She had hoped to deflect the blow.

Thoughts of Feoras harming Bram made the sword feel light in her hands. Somehow she knew she must keep the sword up, blocking his. Then she saw her dagger glint in the sun beside Bram. Not thinking, she let one hand off the sword, snatched her dagger and thrust it into his stomach. Relieved, and the sword heavy once more, she dropped it. Feoras stood in shock for a moment, his sword arm still raised as he gazed down at the dagger sticking out of him.

After the O’Neill’s had taken Rhiannon, she bent over Bram. He was alive. And she cared not how.

He held her to his chest and she heard his heartbeat. Such a wondrous sound, and she wished to lay there, listening to the rhythm forever.

Tears flooded through her, soaking through his chain mail to his saffron tunic.

“Weep not.” His hand stroked her back. “Our wedding is tomorrow.”

Laughter blurted with her sobs. “No, I will not marry you still.”

His frown tore into her laughter and she ceased. “I am sorry you feel that way, I will leave at dawn.”

“No.” The corners of her mouth twitched into a smile. “We will not marry until you are healed. You promised me a glorious wedding night. And I will not have my husband lazy, and slumbering all the time from his wounds.”

“Truly?” he asked and her heart soared. “You will be my wife?” She heard the hope in his voice.

She looked into his blue eyes. Clear like the autumn sky above them. His face darkened in the sun and splattered with blood.

“Aye,” she answered. “I love you forever and even that will not be long enough.”

His hug knocked the air from her, but she wrapped her arms carefully around his chest, and then planted kisses on his face and lips.

“Wait.” He held her hands. “I have, as your faith says, a confession.”

Fear tried to choke her, but she swallowed it back down. Whatever he said, it would not change her love for him, not after all they had been through.

“I made your mother a promise.” He touched her lips when she opened her mouth to protest. “Let me finish. I came to the keep weeks before you saw me. I was to be arranged in marriage to Rebecca, daughter of one of your father’s noblemen for my alliance. I had tasted a glimmer of love before and prayed to the gods to find it again. So I dressed as a peasant and observed her and others. However, it was you that crept under my skin. I saw not only your feisty temper, but your compassion. I knew there was no other for me. I bargained with your father for you, and had to promise more men to come with me to protect your family and lands.” He caressed her cheek. “And I would have paid anything.”

She leaned into his hand. “But what of my mother? What promise do you speak of?”

He ran a hand through his golden hair. “After our agreement, I told your mother I loved you. She made me vow not to tell you unless you spoke the words first. It tore me up every time I saw you. It would have been easier to have promised to bring back a tooth from Jörmungandr, the Midgard Serpent instead.”

“I would not have believed you if you told me sooner. My mother was right.” She kissed him until she heard a shuffling behind her.

“Good to see you again.” The red giant shifted his feet. “Found this one in the stables underneath the hay.”

Bram translated what the giant said so Kaireen would understand his words as well.

Megan sucked her thumb, her other hand around his neck as she stared at him.

“How did you get here so soon?” Bram squinted at him. “You must have arrived yestereve at the holding?”

His cheeks colored. “We arrived this morn’ ready to work until your lass came calling.”

“They helped sway the battle.”

“Aye,” the giant said. “Get well, brother. Your men will not be happy with cleaning for long.” He winked.

“Brother?” Kaireen glanced back at Bram.

“Younger brother,” Bram grunted. “And late as always for the surprise.”

“Surprise?” She frowned. What mysteries did Bram hold?

His finger stroked her cheek and she longed to lean into his gesture. He loved her. And she, God help her, loved him.

“I arranged for them to sail along the coast and ready our keep for the wedding night. Lochlanns,” he said the name with a peculiar lilt as though tasting the word and finding it foul, “would be too noticeable racing across the countryside. So I asked them to stay at the holding until the wedding.”

“What will you pay me to keep our mouths shut from our brothers?” The giant loomed above them.

“How many brothers do you have?”

Bram smiled tapping his chin with a finger. “Well, our oldest brother lives in Norway, he inherited all the land from our father. Erick still raids…”

“How many?” She poked his shoulder.

He chuckled, pulling her into his embrace. “I hope us to have as many sons.”

She struggled against him. Until he answered her, she would not cease. Did the man think her daft to forget the question while he held her?

Well, she was in love, but she was not daft yet.

“Nine.”

She gasped and he kissed her. Nine sons? She doubted she would live long enough to birth so many children.

Especially if they grew as large as Bram’s brother.

As if hearing her thoughts, the giant laughed and sauntered away. Megan giggled with him.

Chapter Thirty-three

Winter fell upon the east coast of Ireland. Four months Kaireen waited for Bram to mend so they would both be able to dance at their wedding, and more. When Kaireen admitted her love, she did not think it would increase, yet her love blossomed more each day. It was as if once the small seed took root, it grew like a forest of ancient yew trees.

After the battle, Elva set his broken bones with oak planks and ropes. Kaireen helped hold the boards in place.

Her handmaid had him bite on leather straps. She yanked his leg back, pulling the bones straight, she said.

Sweat beaded across Bram’s brow and his glare bore into Elva, but she minded not. Guards held his arms. Afterwards, when they took the leather from his mouth, his teeth clenched.

“I would like to show you the blood eagle sometime.”

Elva tsked. “Do you want to hobble for the rest of life, or suffer a little pain now?”

“A little pain?” He cringed. “I hate to see what you deem more.”

Kaireen lay on her bed remembering. Bram’s wounds and bones had taken months to heal. In Elva’s care, he healed quicker than she expected. Last week Elva took the splints off, and Bram walked with the aid of his oak staff.

Snow covered the land. Winter trees were stripped bare. Kaireen snuggled deeper under the covers. Closed her eyes, and thought of Bram’s kiss goodnight and his sweet promises of their wedding night.

Bram. She bolted upright.

Today was the day-her wedding day! She jumped out of bed, gasping when her feet met the cold stone floor. She hobbled sideways as she put on her slippers.

Fire burned in the hearth, bringing forth the aroma of cinnamon. She crept to the fire, gazing at the flames.

“For your wedding day,” Elva said. “The cinnamon is for prosperity, protection and passion. I thought it would go well with your earlier wedding gift of the bath. Come now. Your groom has waited too long for you.”

She nodded, following Elva to the bathing chambers. Her handmaid carried a basket filled with ribbons, combs, hazel twigs, and soap. In her other hand, a new linen shift and her wedding dress. The crimson gown with the square neckline would make her skin appear smooth as cream.

• • •

She sank into the steamy water. Months ago she hated thinking that she would wed. Now, she had waited so long it could not happen fast enough. Her heart felt as if a dozen horses were running wild and faster with each passing moment.

After bathing and cleaning her teeth, she allowed Elva to dry, and then dress her.

The damask gown fit her curves and she loved the folds that swept to the floor.

Elva wove red ribbons lined with pearls into her hair.

Then Kaireen dabbed her neck and wrists with rose oil. She donned her pile-weave cloak.

Elva beamed with pride.

“No flowers blooming for you, for it be a harsh winter. But herbs will do fine as well.” She handed Kaireen a basket of cinnamon sticks and cloves.

Kaireen thanked her, and followed her handmaid through the corridors.

In the hallway, she smelled the roasting boar mingled with onions, sage, and rosemary. She licked her lips. In her rush she had skipped her breakfast to get ready. But food would have to wait until after the ceremony.

In the courtyard, the guests gathered. Each brought a hand cake. Now each cake was piled on a blanket on the ground, creating an awkward tower.

Snow and ice hung from the trees and the cloaked guests shivered. Friar Connell nodded as they approached.

Bram was dressed in sapphire tunic stitched with gold threads.

Her breath caught in her throat. He held a hand out for her and she took it. No longer was she scared of loving this man, this Viking. Originally she had thought it was because of his heritage that she was so adamant to not marry him, but only now could she admit it was also that she feared his love would consume her. Now she could not accept a future without him.

She noticed he wore a silver necklace, the emblem shaped as Thor’s hammer and cross. Her mother’s eyes blinked back tears.

Kaireen shifted her feet and then looked to the Friar who nodded his approval for them to speak their vows.

Do not let me forget my words,
she prayed. “Bram, I pledge my life and love to only you. I promise to always love and cherish only you. Birth you strong sons, and stronger daughters.” Women in the crowd chuckled. “Honor and respect do I also give you and demand the same from you to me. I will go where you go with the grace of God.”

Bram cleared his throat, his skin faded pale. “I promise you to love and cherish only you always. Raise our children with you. And not to lift my hand toward you in anger, but to protect you with my life.” Then he drew her in close, brushing his lips across hers. He whispered against her mouth of wanting to fulfill all his passionate promises to her.

“By the power of God, I hereby bless this union.” Friar Connell sprinkled holy water from an implement made of gold.

With the crowds’ cheers, Bram and Kaireen rushed to the stack of cakes. They circled their arms around the stack, grasping their fingers, careful not to touch the cakes.

Stretching forward, she leaned on her tiptoes. They kissed over the cakes for prosperity. The throng shouted when one of the cakes wavered, but did not fall. Everyone rushed forward, congratulating the couple. Then they followed the bride and groom into the great hall. She was glad to be inside by the warmth of the hearths.

At the high table, Kaireen’s father and mother sat to her right, Bram on her left.

Four servants brought silver trays with roasted boar covered in onions. Trays followed of cooked goose coated with pepper, bail, and rosemary. Gilded and slivered calves heads with roasted peacock came next with its feathers hung over the tray.

Then platters of cheeses, tarts and custards arrived. Each guest’s goblet was filled with honey mead or the mulled wine the Lochlanns called spicey.

Sallat from boiled carrots, lettuce, nuts, vinegar, and oil stuffed in a wooden trencher was offered as well.

Bram’s men joined in with the Liannon’s laughter at the lower tables.

Kaireen ate until she thought she would burst her gown. Then the servants cleared the hall. She swirled to the round dance as long as the musicians played.

Hours flew by. Rebecca danced with one of the Lochlanns and Kaireen hoped she would find love.

Bram’s brother, the giant, held Shay with his eyes and arms. He strained not to cringe at her as thrice she stepped on his foot.

Perhaps love would come to Shay again.

Already, she glowed with Bram’s brother. What wonder that so much life, love and death could come through the Lochlanns. Kaireen had learned to trust her handmaid’s words. How confoundedly stubborn she had been. Kaireen hoped her children might not inherit too much of her stubborn heart while Bram hoped they did fire and all.

Beside her, Bram nuzzled her ear, causing her to forget the dancing couple. He whispered her to follow him and she did.

They maneuvered through the crowd. In the corridor, he clutched her hand. He drew her with him as they ran through the hallway.

Outside her room, he winked. “Not so loud.” He pushed open the door. “I think you did not want your wedding gown torn off by the crowd.”

She blushed to her toes. Custom said the clothing of the bride was lucky. She remembered the horror of her eldest sister’s wedding.

The guests had followed the bride and groom to their bedchambers. But they tossed and locked her groom out. Then everyone pressed around tearing away pieces of her gown. By the end, she had been left shivering and naked.

Kaireen felt a lump in her throat. The bedroom door clicked closed. No one save her maidservants had seen her without clothes.

Already, Bram stood before her, his clothes in a pile on the stone floor. His muscles were chiseled and despite his scars, she found no flaw.

Golden hair flowed to his shoulders. His full lips formed a smile as he gazed at her.