In Love With A Warrior (Gunn Guardsman (Book 4)) (5 page)

“Nay, I miss him is all. If you cease discussing Bevan that would make me sadder. He was tolerant of your … interest in weapons,” Branwyn said. “I deem he really loved you.”

She snorted. “Love, verily not? Hah, he wanted a bed partner and I …” Emlyn closed her mouth, for she never told her friends about what she’d done with Bevan. She couldn’t wed another, what with the loss of her
precious
virginity. No man would be as accepting of her now.

They probably would ask questions, which she wasn’t wont to answer. She didn’t believe there was another man who would be as tolerant as Bevan. The only hope she had to avoid marriage was to stay out of her father’s view, and that was an easy task since he was preoccupied with the recent fracas betwixt him and Marshall.

“I want a man who knows his way around the bed. Aye, I wouldn’t mind a handsome face either.” Delyth said.

Emlyn laughed. “You would.”

“Tell me that is not preferable to the unkempt men we have to contend with here. I vow they’ve no care of their looks and act as though we should kiss their feet.” Delyth scooped water with her hands and trickled it over her breasts.

“I wish they’d have a care about their appearance,” Branwyn said. “Cranog refuses to remove the whiskers on his face. I told him he must do so before our wedding or he’ll be sharing his own marriage bed. You should’ve seen the look upon his face.”

“Who cares? A man is a man, and they all come with the same equipment.” Emlyn screeched when Delyth splashed her with a good bit of vigor and blinded her with a hefty stream of water.

Branwyn snorted. “Nay they don’t. Haven’t ye seen them bathing? Aye, I’ve seen every shape and size. I vow their equipment is verily varying.”

“Honestly, you two addle me with this talk. I wish not to speak of men’s pricks or their hairy faces.” Emlyn glared, tiring of the subject. “But I agree. A man with a smooth cheek is more appealing. I could do without prosy speech though.” She laughed thinking of such a man. A man akin to that wouldn’t last long in her presence.

Delyth made a face and Branwyn giggled.

She thought she heard a noise nearby and turned to spy the surrounding trees.  “Shhh.”

Her friends ceased moving, but the sound of the waterfall was too loud for them to hear anyone or anything if it was close by.

“It must’ve been my imagination.” Emlyn hoped it wasn’t the army that was expected any day, for danger might be lurking in the surrounding forest. She regretted not keeping her sword within reach.

“We shouldn’t have come here this late. We should return.” Emlyn left the water and shook to dispel water droplets from her naked body. She found her sword in the pile of garments and set it upon the rock should she need it. Using her shift, she dried herself and donned her breeches and tunic.

“We’ll have to sneak back inside the walls,” Delyth said.

“The watch will give us away if we enter through the gate. Come, I know an easier way where we’ll not be noticed. No one will see us.”

Chapter Five

James stood in the adjacent woods, captivated by the sight before him.

He swore they were water nymphs, or faeries, or kelpies. Their discussion likewise held him and his comrades enthralled. If someone forced him to move he would have balked, for all he wished at that moment, was to view the naked faerie and bask in her glory.

The lass brazen enough to wear breeches drew his attention the most for even in the dim light of dusk, he could see how red her hair was. He had a fondness for red-haired lassies. They were definitely more willful and always set his blood to heat. Even now, he grew hot from watching her.

Her lovely body was exposed for all to see, and he almost insisted the men accompanying him turn their gazes. Were that he claimed her as his; he’d demand his friends’ chivalry. Alas, she was not his. But sure enough, his mouth hung open when he watched her naked body leave the water.

James wished he could’ve ventured from his hiding place so he could feel her against him, to cover her delectable body, and to ensure for himself that she was real. Never had he seen such breasts. Perfection couldn’t describe them and his body grew rigid.

“James, we’re leaving,” Colm called in a hushed tone.

But James was enraptured and watched the bonny faerie vanish within the shadows of the trees. He kept his eyes fastened on the tree she disappeared behind, hoping she would reappear.

When they’d come upon the lassies, he, Sean, Kenneth, Duff, and Colm, hung back lest they frighten them. James could’ve laughed at their discussion and never reasoned women spoke so openly about men.

He retreated to camp and set his bedroll, knowing this night he’d get little sleep. For his imagination was going to be busy. A frown came, because he realized how unchivalrous he’d been. He wasn’t one to stare so openly at an unclothed woman without her knowing. Such ill-manners unsettled him, and yet a grin came. For at least, he’d be able to dream about her.

Night came and the six-hundred men they’d brought would have to camp outside the walls. Grey left as soon as they’d arrived, and had gone to inform the Iorwerth laird of their arrival. He remarked Iorwerth would know they rallied outside his keep. It was difficult to keep six-hundred men quiet.

James became concerned when his laird insisted on only taking Duff with him to meet with the chieftain. That was well and good for Duff was the most formidable of Grey’s guardsmen. Still, James didn’t know if they’d be well received or if Llywelyn would take offense. They only had their king’s directive and didn’t trust the Wales chieftain would accept their aid. None of the guardsmen who swore to protect their laird were pleased by his orders to await him.

When they returned to camp, their laird still had not returned. James pulled a piece of wood he’d started whittling the day before and set to finish it. By the time the bark was smooth and the form had taken shape, Grey returned.

“We’re to await morning and then will be shown inside. Llywelyn is out of the keep and should be back by then. We might as well get rest.”

Several leaders went to relay the message to the troops awaiting Grey’s orders.

James thought the men would cheer, for Grey had ridden them hard on the journey. They’d taken infrequent rests along the way because he wanted to arrive and be done with their duty as quickly as possible.

James stared up at the night sky, content to lie outside the tent. The stars shown above and the moon was just coming over the tree line. Had they arrived a few days later, they wouldn’t have had the night brightness to afford travel. And he wouldn’t have seen the red-haired faerie.

His dreams throughout the night indeed were that of the faerie. She affected him, more than he imagined she would. He awoke with a stiffness between his legs and a sheen of sweat covering his body.

When morning came, James hastened back to the waterfall. He hoped to glimpse the water sprite again. But alas, he was disappointed. He shed his garments and jumped into the water, hoping to abate the longing that coursed through him. Before long, many of his comrades joined him.

If the lassies could have seen their loch now, they’d know for what they spoke as truth. Many of the men ceased shaving and cared not that they were unkempt on a war mission for most would be covered with blood as soon as the battle began.

That got James to thinking. He jumped from the water, slipped on his braises, and trotted toward camp. There, he found Sean sitting on his tartan next to a small fire outside their tent. He was preparing the morning meal for their close group and grinned at him.

“Where’s your garments?”

James turned and looked back at the loch. “Oh, I left them behind. I need to borrow your blade, for I haven’t one small enough. And mine are still in my satchel.”

“Small enough for what?” Sean reached inside his tunic and pulled out two. One was about three or four inches in length, the other at least eight. James took the smaller one.

“I need to remove my whiskers.” He found a smooth stone with which to sharpen it. After the blade was sharp enough, he began to run it over the hair on his face.

Kenneth laughed his arse off when he saw what he was doing, and fell back upon his tartan. “If I weren’t wed, I’d probably be doing the same thing.”

Colm joined them and noticed their revelry. “What’s the jest?”

“James is shaving,” Kenneth said, continuing to chuckle.

“I deem the lassie’s words affected him.” Sean handed each of the men a bowl, and waited patiently for James to finish before handing one to him.

James took it and balked at the pottage. For it wasn’t as flavorful as their laird’s wife made or the Hume keep’s cook’s. But he ate it anyway, knowing it might be a while before they’d eat again.

“Where’s Grey?” he finally asked, after setting his bowl aside.

“Angus, take these and wash them. Put them back inside my tent.” The lad Sean had brought along did as he bode and set off with an armful of dirty bowls. To him he said, “He went to meet with Llywelyn and should return soon.”

No sooner had Sean spoken; Grey came traipsing through the encampment. He stopped to speak to a few of the men he passed. He didn’t appear displeased. When he reached them, he took the bowl Sean offered.

“I’m to bring my closest guardsmen into the keep. We’re to meet to discuss tactics. Later this day, our men will join with his in training. We’ll do so for the next week, mayhap a fortnight. I will discuss Marshall’s proposal when we sit down.” Grey watched him closely and raised a brow.

“You haven’t told him yet?” James felt Grey’s eyes on him and shook off the meaning of his gaze, for Grey wouldn’t be forthcoming. Either a plan formulated in Grey’s mind, or he was hesitant to tell Iorwerth of Marshall’s demand.

“There hasn’t been time yet. I will soon enough.”

James hastened to retrieve his clothes by the loch, and he quickly donned his tunic and belted his tartan. Once he’d secured the belt, he sheathed his sword, and rubbed a good amount of water over his face. For he’d slept little and when he had, the lass effectuated him to a state of arousal. He may as well have stayed awake for as much rest as he got.

He ran back to the awaiting guardsmen and when everyone was ready, Grey led them to the fortification. Many stayed behind, and only Grey’s personal guard and ten troop leaders went along for the meeting.

On approach of the fortification, James eyed the castle enshrouded by a heavy morning mist. Its location appeared strategic given that the garrison was able to block any movement into the heart of the fortification. The high round towers looked sturdy and were at least thirty feet in height. The surrounding wall at least eight feet thick and would verily take any attack and sustain its ability to protect.

Akin to Sean’s holding, this one had steps leading to the main tower keep. As he ducked under the portcullis, he noticed that if the bridge was pulled to upright position, it would cover the upper window casements. It was a protection tactic and one he hadn’t seen before.

James followed behind Duff, toward the enclosed entryway, and rounded the stairs which were opposite of what he’d expect. But he suspected it was a defense stratagem as well. There was only one level above, but the lower level appeared spacious.

Llywelyn rose upon their arrival in the great hall. His family stood behind him, his wife, Siwan, called Joan by the English, was a handsome woman. Their children stood beside her, and James looked at each one until his eyes reached and fastened on the water nymph.

She kept her gaze serene and on the back of her father as she stood there for inspection. Llywelyn cleared his throat and turned to address them.

“Welcome, one and all. My family,” he said, and motioned to those standing behind him. Without further introduction, he bid them to leave. They immediately followed his order and vacated the hall.

James kept his gaze on the red-haired lass until she disappeared. He wanted to go after her and introduce himself, and to ask her name, but alas, he could not do so.

The meeting was called to order by the fearless king. He took a seat and motioned for all else to do so.

Grey sat nearest to him, James next to him, and the others filed in along the row of chairs at the table stretched before them. There were enough chairs to fit their entire company and more.

“I’m gladdened you have arrived, Gunn. I received a missive from Alexander that you would be coming. How many men do ye bring?”

“Six-hundred, Lord Iorwerth.”

Llywelyn’s lips twitched. “Aye, a good number, it will add to ours and I vow will be enough to handle Marshall’s paltry attacks. I bid ye to call me Llywelyn.”

“Likewise, call me Grey. I wanted to bring Marshall’s pact. He bid me to set a proposal before you and awaits your response.”

The old lord laughed mockingly. “Ah, so he wants to parlay, does he? I am not in the mood to placate him, but I will hear his offer.”

“I met with him and he was quite serious in his proposal. He deems he will cease all nefarious activity against you and yours if you betroth your daughter to him.”

Llywelyn sat forward. A maniacal grin came to his lips. “Aye? So he covets what he cannot have. Did he name a particular daughter? For I’ve a handful of them, each of marriageable age.”

Grey kept his expression fixed on the lord and said, “The one named Emlyn.”

A flicker of resentment crossed the lord’s eyes. “Emlyn. Of course he would want her. Of all my daughters, she would be most challenging for him. I needs to consider this, Grey. For I know the reason he would name her and I am not sure I’m willing to sacrifice such a prize to that berserker.”

“If you agree, we’re to take her to him as soon as can be arranged. He awaits us at
Schrosberie, where we will hand over the lass.”

Llywelyn guffawed in disbelief. “So he offends me by having me send my daughter to a keep I possessed, which he has taken? If I do agree, I will send her when and where I deem to do so.” The man looked at each of them, as if assessing their skill as a warrior. A small grin came to his lips. “In the meantime, we will prepare for war. Lest you know, I trust him not. Even if I did send my daughter, he would continue to thwart me and try to take my lands. I am familiar with his kind.”

“I have his word, my lord,” Grey said.

“His word is shit. I will discuss this with you further, Grey, and would invite you and your men to a welcome celebration. We’ll have it on the morrow in the evening and I’ll have an answer for you. That will give my servants time to prepare. This day, your men will join mine and we’ll see how they fare against my Welsh soldiers.”

Grey smiled with bemusement. “Aye, my lord, I know they’ll fare well.”

“Such admiration in one’s own army is renowned, young Gunn. I like that, indeed I do.”