Captured by a Laird (18 page)

Digging in his heel to spur on the beast, Stref saw the figure of Lena crossing the croft. Clyde’s eyebrows lifted as he faced his laird.

“Trouble?” he asked.

“Always.” Stref’s smile lit up his face and his eyes twinkled.

“Where are you going?” Lena demanded. “You canna go running off every time we disagree.”

“So, we are going to disagree often?” he teased.

“Not if you keep running away,” Lena retaliated.

“I will be back,” Stref said. “I am going to Haigh. Once and for all, we will have peace. My child will know a land where he can be free. With us united and Fogert also, I think that Haigh will see things my way. While I am away, send word to the holy man. I think we have a wedding to finish, don’t you?”

“I do,” Lena replied her cheeks dimpling.

With a roar of triumph, Stref rode off with Clyde in his wake, grinning from ear to ear.

Chapter Twenty-Five

It did not take Lena long to find out exactly what Stref Harris had been up to in her absence. In the days that followed his departure, it seemed to Lena that her entire croft had switched their loyalty and were singing the praises of the Laird Harris. He had personally visited each and every clan member, and had shared meals and tales with them. The elder members raved about how he had listened to their stories and praised their experience, whilst the younger group, both male and female, had become infatuated with the mighty warrior.

Grumbling to Val, Lena was disappointed that she found no solace with her oldest friend.

“But he has just breezed in and taken over,” she whinged. “Even old Martha thinks he is the greatest laird of them all. Have I not looked after them well for all these years?”

“Aye, you have, lass. We can all see that you need to live your life. It is your time. You have done yer duty to Rwenor. It is time to let someone help. Harris is a powerful force. He is what we need, and he does not help us for his own gain. Well, maybe a bit of his own gain,” Val added with a knowing wink.

Lena reddened. “The baby?” she asked.

“The baby, yes, and I think he has a soft spot for the baby’s mother too. You should’ve seen his fury when word reached him that you had been detained at Fogert’s.”

“I have sent for the holy man,” Lena admitted shyly. “It seems we will wed after all.”

“I am glad for you, lass. You and the child.” Val pulled Lena into a rough fatherly embrace, which ended abruptly as he mumbled about a place he had to be.

Lena wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she watched his retreating figure. She knew her life would soon change, and the thought of it sent an excited tingle down her spine.

The holy man arrived tailed by local children who formed a procession behind him. Every now and then, he would spin around and cause excited screams. Lena was drawn out by the festive noises.

“Thank you for coming,” she greeted the wizened old man with a low bow.

“I am glad to be joining two such noble leaders and peace is what we all crave here, lassie.”

Lena led the man to the side of the central fire and spooned him a large helping of the stew that had been simmering there throughout the day. Each family added a share of their food to it, and it filled the stomachs of the croft with much to spare. The holy man ate in silence for a while, seeming to savour the thick, hearty meal.

“That was good,” he finally said, wiping his mouth with the corner of his heavy robe. “The physical pleasures still tempt me, despite my calling to more spiritual planes.”

“I see no harm in enjoying the fruits of the land,” Lena comforted the old man.

“You are very kind to indulge such a tiresome relic as me,” he said. “Now to the matter in hand, I must confirm that you enter into this union of your own free will. Do you?” he asked peering curiously at Lena.

Lena smiled. “If you had asked me that a few days ago, I may have given a different response.” She chuckled. “But I have warmed to the man who claims my hand. He seems to have already won the hearts of my people, and I have always valued their opinions.”

“A wise leader is always willing to take into account the views of her kin.” The holy man nodded. “I have dealt with the Laird Harris many times and have always found him to be firm and fair. The love of a good woman is just what he needs to complete him,” he added.

Lena mused on the words of the holy man.
Complete him?
She rather liked the sound of that.

“But do you willingly desire to be that woman for him as well as for your people?” he rephrased.

“I do,” she responded with a large smile on her face.

Pleased with the response, the holy man nodded and stood, indicating his readiness for a good night’s sleep.

She showed the holy man to a comfortable place where he could rest; then decided to take herself for a walk. Thoughts were crowding into her head and she felt she needed space. The woods that surrounded Rwenor were as much a home to her as her own dwelling. Each tree was a familiar friend; each holding a memory from her childhood. The woods had provided seclusion to train and escape the demands of a father who sought to parade her like a prized beast. Out of habit, she slung her bow over her shoulder and fastened the arrow case to her back. The straps strained under her increased size.

Maybe I’ll shoot few arrows, nothing wrong with staying in practise.

As she entered the darkening forest, Lena heard a distant and familiar cry.

“Pride,” she called, knowing the bird did not need to be summoned by her, yet enjoying the way his name brought back the security of home to her lips. Life had changed so quickly in recent months and Lena yearned for just a brief moment to bid farewell to her youth, and embrace what was to come. In a small clearing, the mighty form of Pride alighted on a gnarled tree. His soft cry echoed through the space.

“Good to see you, old friend,” Lena cooed, walking forward with her arm extended.

Pride hopped onto Lena’s outstretched arm and settled himself onto her warm flesh. His claws dug in, but Lena enjoyed the closeness as she stroked the downy feathers of his breast.

“Maybe you should try seeking a mate,” she said. “It is not as bad as it seems. I think you may get used to it.”

The bird bobbed up and down at her words, squawking as if he replied. Lena walked on, deeper into the woods, chatting to the eagle as they went. The trees grew closer together and Lena stopped, her ripening body easily tired. She sank down onto a verdant mound covered with thick moss. Pride hopped to a low branch just beside her and watched, wide-eyed as she lay back.

Lena allowed her whole body to relax. She laid her head upon the cool softness of the mossy pillow and inhaled the scents of the forest around her. The fresh breeze lulled her into a semi-slumber as distant bird song serenaded her like a lullaby. All was well in Lena’s world as a peace descended upon her. Stref Harris would ensure the end of the conflicts, and her child would be born knowing love not warfare. Sleep gradually crept into every corner of Lena’s mind, a soft smile curling her full lips.

The shrill cry of Pride woke her from the luxury of slumber. Haigh’s scarred face leered over her as he held Pride firmly in gloved hands.

“I could have taken you right there while you slept,” he hissed as spittle dripped from his mouth onto Lena’s face, “if not for this bird’s attacks. I decided to wait for you to wake; then wring its scrawny neck. I see the rumours are true that you carry the seed of Harris.” Haigh extended a long finger that poked painfully into Lena’s stomach.

“I may not be able to have you, but neither will he,” he said as he stood up and drew out a long, curved blade. “Get up and stand against that tree.”

Lena stood, thinking fast. She made sure her back was to Haigh, so he would not notice the arrow pouch that she carried. In one swift movement, she pulled out her bow. Years of practise seemed to lead to this one moment.

Haigh smirked as he saw her stance.

“Going to try that,” he sneered. “A chit like you could never even draw the string. Now watch as I snap this bird; then you will die. This sword will go in the place that Harris went to give you that child,” he threatened.

“I don’t think we have been properly introduced,” Lena said slowly, watching Haigh as realisation dawned on his face. She drew back the string on the bow effortlessly and aimed it at his heart. “They call me Green Bow,” she said, letting the arrow fly true to its intended target.

The two bodies slumped, one in exhaustion and the other in death. Pride flew up into the sky and began to circle, emitting cries of indignation.

* * * *

Stref was frantic. He had returned to Rwenor, having been unsuccessful in locating Haigh. He feared for Lena and cursed his own foolishness for leaving her alone. He sought to return to Rwenor and claim the female that consumed his every waking thought. On entering the croft, he had searched for her to no avail. The holy man reported their conversation, but none had seen her since. Stref feared another kidnap, or worse still, an attempt to run away from their upcoming union.

Her trail through the forest was easy enough to follow. He was relieved that she had not tried to cover her tracks. He could see she had travelled alone. He was surprised at the distance she had covered and curious as to her motive. The deeper he went into the lush-green woodland, the more terrified he became.

What if she sought to end her own life? What of the child she carries?

Stref remembered her willingness to couple with him. She could not be afraid of him or their lives together. His loins swelled as he recalled her sweet caress and the way her body arched to him, and longed to be sated. Distracted by his thoughts, Stref was upon the small clearing before he spotted the giveaway presence of Pride. The eagle now sat regarding Stref with a dignified air. Below its perch, Lena sprawled on a mossy mound, and a short distance from her lay the bloodied body of Haigh, an arrow struck clean through his heart.

Stref’s heart gripped with fear and he froze in his tracks, trying in vain to see if her chest rose and fell with life. Stref checked her garments for blood before he finally uprooted his feet and closed the distance between them.

Within a heartbeat, Stref was bending over the prostrate form. His breath catching as he leaned in towards her delicate features. Her soft lips pouted as if she were preparing for his kiss. Straining forward, he heard the sound of her light breath and sighed inwardly with relief. Afraid of startling her yet unable to resist, Stref locked his lips to Lena’s with a passion that took him by surprise. He had feared for her life and he was heady with relief that she was breathing. Stref felt Lena awaken in his arms. He felt her body tense as if ready to do battle; then relax and cup his head as she realised who had taken such a liberty.

“He’s dead,” she said simply. “He had Pride and was going to kill me. He said he would push his sword where you had been to give me this.” Her hand rested protectively against her stomach.

Stref felt his vision go red. Anger boiled in him and he cursed viciously.

“I should have been here,” he spoke gently into her ear as her body convulsed with sobs. “I am sorry.”

“I am Green Bow,” she wept. “I do not need protecting.”

“This time I am sorry to disappoint you,” he cooed into her hair. “I am going to protect you from now until the breath leaves my body. You and any other Harris that may come along.”

He plucked her from her mossy bed and carried her away from the carnage.

Lena writhed sleepily against him as if she was still unsure if she were dreaming.

“Stref,” she murmured pulling away. “Are you really here?”

“Why did you leave?” he demanded, reluctantly feeling the air pass between them. “Where were you going?”

“I…I…was just walking,” she replied. “Then I felt so weary, I rested.”

Her vulnerability sent flames of heat through Stref. He longed to scoop her up and hold her close for ever, never letting her out of his sight. Longing to stake his claim on every inch of her, Stref rained kisses along her neck, nipping the soft flesh as he blazed a trail.

“I want you,” Lena panted. “Do not make me wait.”

Her words exploded in Stref’s ears. She needed him and he was not about to disappoint her. He set her down in the next clearing and ripped at her loose gown, exposing her rounded belly and her full breasts. His manhood hardened its length and girth, filling out so quickly he caught his breath. Lena arched her back as her breasts bounced before him, inviting him to taste their sweetness. He claimed the right nipple first, gasping in delight as a sweet sensation filled his mouth. The life-giving milk that would nourish his child seeped from the rosy peaks.

Stref could contain himself no longer. She had come so close to death, this day, he had to possess her, to somehow prove that she lived. Once again, his urge to make this woman his overpowered every other thought he possessed. Without pausing in his tantalising feast, he freed his straining length and positioned himself above Lena. Her legs parted invitingly, revealing the deep-red folds of her womanly core. Stref broke from the full breasts and raised himself over her. His hands stroked the nub that nestled between her legs as he entered her wet channel with the full force of his desire.

Intent on watching her response, Stref observed the play of emotions that crossed Lena’s face. Her eyes widened as he filled her; then hooded as he rubbed and withdrew. Again and again he repeated the rhythm until he saw her head tip back and felt her tighten around him. As she cried out, her body played his, clenching tighter and tighter around him as her need mounted.

Satisfied that she was on the cusp of satisfaction, Stref allowed himself release. It came swift and hard as he cried out the name of the woman beneath him. As her cries joined with his, the pair peaked together on a crescendo of pleasure.

Withdrawing from the warmth of her body, Stref felt the rush of air between them and longed to bury himself deep inside her again. He ached for her both as a lover and as a comrade.