In Love With A Warrior (Gunn Guardsman (Book 4)) (10 page)

BOOK: In Love With A Warrior (Gunn Guardsman (Book 4))
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Chapter Ten

 

 

 

 

 

James never felt so wretched in his entire life. When Emlyn walked away from him at the waterfall last eve, she’d taken his heart with her. He’d gone to apologize and even though the lass allowed him to explain, he still felt horrible about the circumstances. He couldn’t concede to her will. Throughout the entire night his guilt gnawed at him. He was torn between duty and honoring her wishes.

The day began with his ire when his laird awoke them early and sent them to their training session near dawn. On the field, he searched for Emlyn, and many of the Iorwerth men hadn’t yet joined in the practices. James continued to meet with Iorwerth’s soldiers, taking his time to ensure his sword methods were spot on.

A rest was called by the chieftain’s son and when James glanced at him, he noticed Emlyn standing next to her brother. She had been on the field. A grin came because he was gladdened to see her even if he was dismayed at the thought that she went against other men with arms.

Grey held a council and was discussing something to which James wasn’t really listening. He kept his gaze on Emlyn and lost sight of her as she moved within a group of soldiers. As soon as the sessions were called again, he tried to find her in the crowd.

Sean walked beside him. “Are you looking for an opponent? For I vow I’ve never seen such a dark look from you, James. How many have ye fought against this day?”

He shook his head and as he hastened his steps, he saw her. She had a sword in hand and combatted against one of her father’s men. The man had to be at least a foot taller than she. Llywelyn stood in the crowd watching her too, and James regarded her father. Who would let their daughter take to arms? His stomach wrenched at seeing her fighting so vigorously. Those within her clan cheered and the fight became intense.

His breath all but ceased when the attacker almost skewered her with his sword. James grew tense watching the fray. Every muscle in his body flinched at her adversary’s attack.

The Iorwerth chieftain shoved a man toward Emlyn and her opponent. She now fought against two warriors. James lost his breath completely as he watched her catch another sword thrown to her by her father. What was wrong with the man? Had he no sense or was he maddened?

Emlyn swung about and met her one opponent and then turned to meet the other. James stood rigid and Sean shoved him forward.

“Come, we need to find our own opponents.”

But James wouldn’t move. “Nay. Look at her, Sean. She’s going to be killed. Her father cares not.” He couldn’t take his eyes from the melee and each time her opponents’ swords met hers, his heart ceased beating.

“What’s wrong with you? Is that not the lad you fought with?” Sean stepped next to him and watched the fray with him.

“Nay, she’s no lad. ‘Tis my lass, the lass I was with the night of the celebration. She’s brave, I’ll give her that.” James winced when one of her combatants battled her sword and the other came at her back. She would be taken down, and he tried to avert his eyes. What he really wanted to do was run into the fray and protect his lady, but he resisted his desire.

“You mean that lad is the one we found in your bed?” Sean’s voice rose to astonishment and when James didn’t answer he shouted an explanative.

James finally nodded and found his breath again when she was able to defeat the man coming at her back. She backed and lowered her sword, and turned to her father.

“Enough. I cannot continue,” she said, her chest rising from her exertion. Her lovely face appeared dejected.

James wanted to thrash her father, for he nodded firmly and turned to walk away. He’d never seen a lass appear so crestfallen. Emlyn strode away with her gaze at the ground, and he lost her in the crowd.

The leader of the field called an end to the practice for the day, and James walked beside Sean silently furious for what he’d just witnessed. They reached the encampment, and he tossed his sword near his cot, and took out an arrow, to set about whittling it. He needed something to calm himself, and joined his friends for their evening fare. Around the fire, he sat with his comrades, content with his chore which kept his thoughts at bay.

“I’m to attend another meeting with Llywelyn this eve. He’s to give me his decision. James, I would that …” Grey gave him an inquisitive gaze, but turned and motioned to Duff. “Duff, I’ll need you to come with me.”

James sat by the fire, and had finished off his arrow. He used a stick to jab at the frail glowing logs. He was gladdened he didn’t have to go because he didn’t wish to be in Emlyn’s father’s company when he gave his approval. Especially after what he’d done and given what he’d witnessed this day. The man treatment of his daughter affected him, and James wished he could retaliate in her honor.

James tried not to think about the previous night and the kiss they’d shared. He was beset with tension, sexual, and otherwise. At that moment, he wished to shrivel away. For one thing, he couldn’t believe he’d taken the lass to his bed—actually she’d come to his bed. For another, he promised her something he verily couldn’t concede to. He would not be the cause of a war no matter what the lass asked of him.

And yet his gut sat like a boulder inside him, for he didn’t want to have to take her to Marshall. He was in a complete conundrum. With all that, his head still hurt from the drink and he couldn’t eat a thing. He was in a mood, one not likened by his comrades.

“Look at him. Such a sorrowful sight. He deserved that punch. Does your wee eye still hurt, laddie?” Colm asked, teasingly.

He growled under his breath, and had taken their jests all day. “Aye it hurts like hell and deservedly so.”

“Never seen an eye swell akin to that. You might want to put something on it.” Kenneth dunked a cloth in a bucket of water that Angus had delivered a short while ago. “Here, use this,” he said, and tossed it to him.

James tossed it back with as much force. “It doesn’t hurt that much. It’s starting to feel better.”

Sean lay on his side and tossed a rock at the fire pit. “James, you know you can’t have her? I mean, she’s the very lass we’re to take to Iorwerth’s enemy. When I realized who she was I could’ve punched you myself.”

“Och, I realize that,” he said with as much indignation as he felt.

Kenneth set a hand on his shoulder. “How could you? This is unlike you, James. Of all of us, you are the most gallant.”

He scoffed for that was not what he wished to be known as. “Not any longer. But she came to me and I didn’t know … I was drunk for God’s sake and … Still, it is my fault.” No matter what he said would not change the past, and James would eat crow before he’d blame her.

“Damned right it is,” Sean said.

“I shouldn’t have done what I did, but my head was spinning and I didn’t realize what I was doing. The lass wants me to take her away. I told her I wouldn’t.”

“Is that why she punched you?” Colm asked, laughing.

“Aye. She walloped me good when I rejected her. No matter what the lass wants, I cannot go against Grey and our king. We will do as we’re bid.” Why that bothered him to no end, James couldn’t reason. He didn’t like the sense of being unsettled, nor the fact that he’d hand over the sweet lass to her father’s hated enemy. How he wished he were anywhere else but where he was. He’d even suffer at being a farmer as his father willed. At this very moment, he could be trudging a field, scooping manure or digging peat from a bog.

“You’re astute in that, at least. If Iorwerth agrees to betroth her to Marshall, we’ll have no choice but to take her to him. You won’t interfere, will you, James?” Sean sat cross legged and pitched another rock at the fire.

“Of course not. I know my duty. But I want a promise from all of you …”

“What’s that?” Kenneth asked.

“If I die … I want ye to burn me and cast my ashes to the wind.”

“Why in hell would we do that? Why would you ask that?” Sean glared at him. “You speak nonsense.”

“I just have this feeling. When her father finds out about what I did … Aye, make sure you cast me to a hale northern wind so I can go home,” James said, and rose and entered the tent. Within seconds, he found his sword and hastened his steps. He didn’t wish to discuss the blunder he’d made or his conjecture. With an ireful stride, he went off to find solitude.

James walked in no particular direction, and yet he found himself at the waterfall. The sound of the cascading water soothed him. He took his boots off and put his feet in the water. He didn’t hear someone approach and unsheathed his sword when someone touched his shoulder. When he saw who it was, he relaxed, and retracted his sword.

Sean stood next to him and knelt down. “James, I understand why you’re disturbed.”

“More than you know.”

“If this lass …”

“Emlyn.” Saying her name brought a small smile to James’ lips.

Sean nodded. “If Emlyn means that much to you, then we’ll do what we can to assist. We’ll support whatever decision you make.”

“I don’t know what she means to me. But the thought of taking her to Marshall sits foul in my mouth. We can’t do that to her. She’s asked me to help her, but my hands are tied. Haven’t we always upheld our oath to assist lassies when in need?” James rubbed the back of his neck, as tightness stiffened him. Their discussion led him to be even more agitated.

His friend nodded. “Aye, we have. And I agree. If only the king didn’t command us to aid Iorwerth. Mayhap we should speak of this to Grey. He might know a way out of this.”

James shook his head. “Nay. I don’t want to involve him. This is my problem to figure out and I will not endanger his position with the king. They’ve only somewhat reconciled and I won’t be the cause of their discord.”

“I doubt their reconciliation will last long, for Grey still dislikes being involved in the issues the king bids us. If you really want the lass, James, we’ll help.”

“I’ll consider it.” James scooped water and used his hands to soak his face. The coolness of the water felt good and but his eye stung a little. “We should return. Grey will surely be back soon.”

“We could stall and give you and Emlyn time to hide away.”

“Where would I take her? I know of no place where she would be safe. I will not endanger our clan. It is too dangerous and risky.”

As he put on his boots, the key Emlyn left for him fell from his tunic. He picked it up and studied it. It was golden and embellished with a dragon at the top. The few jewels embedded in the gold gleamed.

Find the door with the dragon.

James wasn’t sure he wanted to see her again. Hell, who was he jesting with? He definitely wanted to be in her presence. Even if he might gaze upon her face, he’d be satisfied. Nay, at this point he wouldn’t be content with just a look. He wanted more, he wanted all of her, and wanted her freely without restriction. He wanted to remember being with her, knowing her touch and response.

Should he go and find the door the key unlocked? What would he do if he found the door? Would she be there? Those questions would likely go unanswered, because he had duties to see to and had to put the lass from his thoughts. That was easier said than done.

“What have you there?” Sean asked.

“Nothing,” he said, and tucked the key back inside his tunic.

James rose and followed Sean back to the encampment. For this night he might have to venture out and find this dragon door, even if only to appease his curiosity.

When they arrived back at the camp, Grey awaited them. The guardsmen sat near the fire with him, and he finished eating his supper. Sean bid Angus to remove their bowls, for the lad was happy to do so and prideful that he’d been asked along on the trek.

James went inside his tent and sat upon the bedding. He wasn’t wont to hear what Grey had to say, and knew that Llywelyn would agree to the betrothal. Then he remembered Emlyn saying her father gave his permission to thwart the betrothal. Why would he do that? As much as the lord liked their fracas, he had to keep his lands safe. Most lords would sacrifice a daughter to keep their lands, and he would be no different. Especially given the danger he’d put her in when he forced two combatants at her.

“James? What are you doing sitting in here alone? I wanted to tell everyone what Llywelyn said. Everyone is awaiting you.” He watched his laird duck and enter the tent.

“I just want to know when we are to leave.”

“I’ll tell you that, when you tell me how you got that black eye. Tell me you got it while training, for I won’t believe you. And I vow if you say you got it from a lass, I might have to beat your arse.” Grey kept his stance, holding on to the pole in the center of the tent.

James found a grin. “Very well. I won’t tell you then.”

“Cosh, you got it from a lass. I knew it!” Grey approached, and he almost put his hands up to defend himself, but instead, his laird sat next to him. “James, there’s something I want to discuss with you … privately.”

He sat back and waited for Grey to continue. “Aye, what is it?”

“When our king bid us to come here, and after I met with Marshall … I, ah, well I was disturbed by our task. It does not agree with me to send the lass to her demise, for that’s what we’d be doing.”

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