Rescued by the Celtic Warrior (Roman Love ~ Pict Desire Series Book 1) (16 page)

“Good. Remember, the horse will always take the path of least resistance. Now show me the left.” Valeria watched the boy repeat her instructions. “Very good. You are a fast learner, Manas.”

He smiled for the first time that day.

“Do you think you might be up for a trot?”

Manas didn’t go so far as to nod his head, but his smile remained fixed, and Valeria took his grin for a yes. “When you want him to trot, you tsk with your tongue and lightly tap both heels into his barrel. Do you think you can make a tsking sound?”

Valeria nearly jumped out of her skin when he did it. Her eyes widened with a huge smile. “Excellent. My, I think you have the makings of a superb horseman.”

She stepped into the center of the ring again and had him trot in both directions. Bobby kept his head down without a fuss and Manas’s smile lit up his face as he bobbed in the saddle with the bumpy trotting motion.

When the ram’s horn sounded for the midday meal, Valeria coiled up the lead line. “Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to post. You’ll not flop around so much in the saddle if you use your legs to rise up and down with the motion of the horse.”

Manas smiled with his understanding.

“Do you think you can dismount all by yourself?”

The lad hopped down from the horse and wrapped his arms around Valeria’s waist. As she stared down upon his brown head of hair, her breath caught. She patted the boy’s back. “I’m so happy you had fun. I enjoyed it as well.” She held him at arm’s length. “I’ll see you on the morrow.”

Watching Manas run back to the hall, Valeria blinked back a tear and then returned the horse to Tomas.

The stable hand took the reins. “I think that’s the happiest I’ve ever seen the laddie.”

“Hmm. Perhaps ʼtwas a good thing only he showed up for my lesson this morning. It seems the boy can use some focused attention.”

She headed back to the hall and Greum marched up alongside her. “Well, here ye are. Taran asked me to keep an eye out for ye and I haven’t seen you all day. Where have ye been?”

“I wonder if there’s anyone in all of Dunpelder whom Taran did not ask to watch me.”

Greum gave her a lopsided grin.

“I’ve been teaching Master Manas to ride.”

“Manas? The dumb mute?”

“You would be surprised. The boy’s not dumb. He understood every command I gave him.”

Greum scratched his head. “Well, I’ll be.”

“He learned to walk and trot and manage the reins. He dismounted by himself. I think he did quite well for his first lesson.”

****

Over the next week, Valeria managed to avoid attracting attention by spending her days with Manas and following Pia to the kitchen for her meals. The leery looks from the citizens of Dunpelder dwindled as they became accustomed to her daily lessons with the boy. Soon their attention reverted to their own business.

However, Morag continued to scrutinize her. It seemed every time Valeria looked up, the woman stood with her hands on her hips and glared.

The king, growing increasingly ill and busy with the workings of court, had all but forgotten her presence. Pia continued to mix his pain tonic, though Morag served it to him. Aside from Morag, the wary overtone in the castle had relaxed and Valeria hoped the Picts had realized she was no threat.

But her heart ached. She missed Taran. She’d not feel like such an outsider if he were there. Yes, Greum stopped by on occasion and watched her work with Manas, but Taran’s friend was also busy with his own affairs—and he didn’t look at her with starved eyes, as if she were the only woman in the world.

The first of May, Valeria awoke to a day warmed by the sun. She peeked out the narrow window to her chamber and the joy of spring gently blew through her hair. The meadow beyond the castle walls had become alive with color. Had it happened overnight or had she not paid attention? She felt giddy for no other reason but for the sunshine ending several consecutive gloomy days of drizzle.

In the distance, the meadow yielded to the tree line, reminding Valeria of a different time—not so long ago. Warmed by Taran’s closeness, she’d ridden in front of him, cradled by his powerful legs. A longing stirred deep inside her body.

She closed her eyes and pictured Taran’s naked body beside the pool. The image seemed so real, she itched to reach out and touch him. The scene played out in her mind, his glorious form diving into the pond. And when she pictured him climbing out of the water, shimmering skin, dark wet hair, she could scarcely breathe. His blue markings entwined over his heart, but her eyes had trailed lower to his manhood. Her tongue flicked out and licked her lips—her blood ran hot. Valeria pressed her hands against her middle to quash the longing.

Her heart sank. Though each day she yearned for his return, he was untouchable. He might as well have been in Egypt or Macedonia. She glanced to the trees again, searching for a rider to appear, but the forest remained still.

Pia pushed through the door. “I brought you some porridge.”

Valeria turned around and blinked. “Thank you.”

“What is it, child? You seem a thousand miles away.”

“ʼTis nothing, just pining for home.”

“I’ll say. ʼTis worth spending another three months in the confines of a carriage to see Rome again.”

“I suppose. The world seems so frightening, so uncertain.”

Pia sighed. “That it is. Now eat. What have you planned for young Manas today?”

Valeria smiled and reached for the bowl. “He is doing well. I’m going to ask Tomas to saddle a horse for me so I can ride alongside him.”

“Good.”

Valeria took a bite. “And what of Master Fionn, and the king?”

“The boy’s ankle is coming good. He’s walking with only a hint of a limp.” Pia shook her head. “I’m not as confident about the king. Morag bemoans he wastes away a bit more every day. I’m glad Prince Taran will be back soon. He needs to be here when….”

Valeria swallowed and stared into her porridge. “Yes. I fear grim days are ahead.”

Pia sighed. “It could delay our return, unless he appoints an escort.”

Valeria’s head snapped up. “No. Taran must take us.”

“Why? He’ll have his hands full with court.”

Valeria prayed Pia wouldn’t notice the longing on her face. Longing for a man she had no right to desire—a betrothed man for heaven’s sakes. Yet, returning with anyone besides Taran was unthinkable. Valeria yearned to travel with him one more time. To hear his breathing as he slept beside her by the fire—she needed to experience that again before she lost him forever. “H-his is the strongest sword. You saw him fight Runan yourself. I would not feel safe with any other.”

Pia gently patted her cheek, as if expressing unspoken understanding. “Well, at least we do not have to concern ourselves with that today.”

Valeria pushed her bowl aside and stood. “Manas awaits, I must away.”

She and the boy found Tomas mucking out a stall with a four-pronged pitchfork.

“Good morning, sir. I should like to ride with Master Manas today. Would you be so kind as to saddle a mount for me?”

Tomas had become friendlier. He grinned, stretching the freckles across his nose. “Would ye like a nag like Bobby, or do ye prefer a bit more power under yer legs?”

“My mare, Mia, has spirit, though she’s not quite a rogue like Taran’s Blackie.”

“I reckon there’s only a Pict or two in Gododdin who can handle that stallion.”

In no time, Tomas brought out Bobby along with a high-stepping mare, both fitted with Pictish saddles with stirrups on either side. Valeria frowned. “Do you have a lady’s saddle?”

“Huh?”

“A sidesaddle,” Valeria explained. “It allows a woman to ride more comfortably in a gown.”

“Afraid not, m’lady.”

Valeria pursed her lips and then shrugged. Fortunately, her beige Pict dress—the only one she had—was equipped with slits up the side-seams. She had straddled Blackie with Taran and thought nothing of it. She’d been so relieved to be rescued, propriety seemed out of place in the wild. “When in Gododdin, do as the Picts,” Pia had said when they first arrived. She’d done a lot of unusual things since her arrival—eating with Pia, sleeping on the floor, drinking mead. Her mother would turn in her grave to learn of it. But none of her new
habits
seemed to bother anyone in Dunpelder.

She hiked up her skirts and nodded to Manas. “Let us ride. The day is far too beautiful to waste inside the stable.”

Though Valeria was skilled in a sidesaddle, she found maneuvering her mount with legs astride far easier as she led Manas through the cobbled lanes of the castle. They rode around the hall and past the market with food and wares out on display. Most of the Picts acknowledged her with nods. They passed the blacksmith with its noisy clang. Then Valeria stopped at the stronghold’s open gate, yielding to the lush green beyond.

If only she could pick the lovely flowers she’d seen from her window that morning. If they stayed near the castle, surely it would be safe. “Would you like to canter Bobby in the open meadow?”

Manas’ eyes grew wide with his smile and he nodded. For the first time, his head bobbed in acknowledgement to her question. Butterflies tickled her insides. Valeria had made baby-steps of progress with the boy since their meeting, but his nod seemed a giant leap.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She spurred the mare to a canter with Manas on her heels. The wind blew her hair back. He giggled behind her. Then the boy laughed…out loud. Oh, this day had to be the most glorious day of the year.

Manas laughed half way to the edge of the forest when Valeria pulled up her mare. Exhilarated by the rush of adrenalin, she took a deep breath. “My, ʼtwas just what I needed to clear my head. Are you ready to go back?”

Still grinning from ear-to-ear, his teeth as white as snow, Manas shook his head—another readable gesture.

“Let us trot through the wildflowers. They looked beautiful from my window this morning.”

Valeria led him to the meadow, alive with daisies, bluebells and buttercups. “Look at all these blooms.” She dismounted. Holding onto her reins, she collected a bouquet. “Pia will love a posy of fresh flowers in our room.”

Initially, Manas trotted in circles but when she looked up, he cantered away. Clasping the flowers in her fist, Valeria quickly remounted. “Manas! You mustn’t wander off.”

The boy took full advantage of his newfound freedom and headed straight for the forest edge. Valeria galloped after him, her heart racing while she thanked her stars she’d asked Tomas for a more spirited mount. She dashed alongside him and tugged on his rein. “We need to turn back. ʼTis not safe to be outside the castle walls, let alone out of view. Heavens, you are nearly to the forest.”

No sooner had she turned Manas around, Greum galloped up to them like a frenzied watchdog. “What are ye doing outside the stronghold?”

Valeria cringed. “The day is so beautiful, we thought we would simply canter along the path and back.”

“Ye’re a far cry from the trail. ʼTis a lucky thing I saw you when I did. Do ye ken how dangerous it is out here?”

“Oh, stop. We were just turning back.”

“Stop it, ye say? What would have happened if ye were nabbed by thieves or worse? Ye’d have Taran charging after ye again. Blast-it-all, I should take the strap to ye.”

“No!”

Valeria whipped around to see where the fierce command had come from.

Manas stood in his stirrups, eyes glaring with fire. “Ye. Will. No. Touch her.”

Wide eyed, Greum opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His eyes shot to Valeria.

Clutching the reins, she beheld Manas, tears welling in her eyes. She dismounted and tossed her reins to Greum. Slipping beside the boy, she grasped his hand. “ʼTis a miracle.”

Manas shook his head defiantly. “I cannot l-let him hurt ye, m-m’lady,” he uttered slowly, but he spoke, mounted upon Bobby like a fine young man.

She took his hand and brushed his palm against her cheek. “I thank you for defending my honor. You are quite a brave lad to stand up to the likes of Greum.”

News of Manas’ recovery spread through Dunpelder like water through an aqueduct. Carrying the boy on his shoulders, Greum had led them to Morag. Valeria expected the woman’s cool response, but unmistakable surprise flashed across her face instead.

Valeria hoped her success with Manas might soften Morag’s ill will, but before supper, she opened the door of her chamber to find the woman’s distrusting frown. Morag pursed her lips and stood with her hands on her hips. “Oisean requested your presence at the evening meal.”

“Very well.” She withheld her urge to issue a curt reproach. “Thank you.”

When the door closed, Pia came up behind Valeria and ran her fingers through her hair. “If you’re going to dine with the king, we’ll ensure you do so in style.”

Valeria let out a nervous chuckle. “I’ve been wary of him since the first day when he threatened to burn me.” She lowered her voice to a growl and affected his accent. “
One traitorous move and I’ll burn ye at the stake.
”