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Bound to a Warrior Page 17


  Trey mumbled beneath his breath as they descended the circular stone stairwell.

  “Speak your mind,” Duncan said.

  “I don’t see what help you’ll be chained to her,” Trey said.

  “I’ll prove my worth,” Mercy said.

  “It isn’t that,” Trey said and hurried ahead of them.

  Duncan held back for a moment. “In time you’ll get to know Trey and understand.”

  “I have patience,” Mercy assured him.

  “I know and I appreciate it.” He would have kissed her then but time was of the essence and so he once again hurried his steps. “Follow my lead and do as I direct.”

  Mercy nodded.

  “Are you certain you feel well enough?”

  “I actually feel much better than I was feeling. My arm pains me more than my head.”

  Duncan winced. “My fault. I’m sorry.”

  “You prevented my fall and if you hadn’t, I could have suffered far worse injuries,” she assured him. “And do not let being fettered to me prevent you from doing for your brothers.”

  “I know you can hold your own.”

  “Good, then let’s get this done. I’m famished.”

  Duncan laughed and took her hand, the silent signal that once again they would work together as one.

  Mercy sat in front of Duncan on his stallion. It was a large black horse and she could feel his power in his muscled limbs and proud prance, and the strength it took to command him. But command him Duncan did and the horse obeyed.

  “Warriors have been sent along the border, ready and waiting for orders,” Trey said atop his mare that appeared more malleable than Duncan’s stallion.”

  “How far out is Reeve?” Duncan asked.

  “Not far from the king’s men,” Trey said.

  “We must be careful. It would be unwise to allow this to erupt into a battle,” Duncan said. “No doubt Reeve has seen signs and is aware of the soldiers’ presence.”

  Trey nodded. “No doubt, he has always been good in sensing enemy presence.”

  “And does he keep safe distance from it?” Mercy asked.

  “That’s the problem,” Duncan said. “Reeve never backs down from a battle.”

  “He’d take on a whole troop,” Trey said shaking his head.

  “But he must know the odds are not in his favor,” Mercy said.

  The two men laughed.

  “Reeve would continue fighting to the very end,” Trey said. “And even then I wonder if he would defy death and finish the fight.”

  “It doesn’t sound as if he needs your help,” Mercy said.

  “Regardless,” Trey said. “We never leave a brother to fight on his own if it can be helped.”

  “Which is why you came in search of Duncan?” Mercy asked.

  “We received word that he was headed home, soldiers close on his heels and—” Trey quieted suddenly.

  “That he had baggage with him?” Mercy asked.

  “Something like that,” Trey said and then said no more.

  “Was there something in particular that drove you to find him?” Mercy asked.

  “Last I heard he was journeying through Pict territory, which caused me no worry since we have done that before. It was when I learned that a contingent of men was being sent to patrol the area between Pict land and ours that I knew he would require help.”

  “Then according to your decision, we should go help Reeve,” Mercy said, “since soldiers surely wait his approach.”

  Trey looked to Duncan and Duncan glared back.

  Mercy sighed. “I understand. Duncan had an added burden…me, while Reeve is on his own.”

  “Much better odds of survival,” Trey said.

  Mercy sat tall and straight in front of Duncan. She would not allow his doubt in her to upset her. She had never faced a fight until Duncan happened in her life. Purposely or perhaps inadvertently he had taught her to embrace her strength and courage and now that she had, she had no intention of stopping.

  “I’m ready when you are,” she announced with confidence.

  “What say you, Duncan?” Trey asked.

  “It is quiet except for our chatter. I suggest we wait and listen. Reeve knows we would come for him. He will let us know if he needs us.”

  “True enough,” Trey said.

  They waited in silence. The night dark and the air chilled. There was the occasional rustle of trees from the light wind and the scurry of an animal across the land, or the hoot of an owl. But no human sounds and so they continued to wait.

  Then when Mercy finally slumped back against Duncan believing nothing would happen, a shout sounded.

  “We got him,” the man bellowed. “We got him.”

  “Don’t hurt the woman,” another man ordered.

  Mercy turned to Duncan and he nodded understanding that the soldiers thought they had captured him.

  “What wo—”

  A scream pierced the night, followed by painful moans, more screams and solid thuds that rocked the ground.

  Mercy grew worried that Duncan and Trey made no move to help their brother, but they were seasoned warriors and new much better than she did. So she remained quiet and waited to move when Duncan did.

  “Let’s go help him,” Duncan said to her relief.

  She sat up, ready for whatever was to come.

  “We fight as we have done,” he said to her as he guided his horse through the dark toward the sounds of anguish and suffering.

  Mercy wondered if they had waited too long. Would they find Reeve badly hurt? Could the soldiers have tortured him for information about her? She grew more and more concerned, worried that Duncan’s brother should suffer because of her.

  The disturbing thought actually made her realize that she definitely could not stay here long. She would place Duncan’s whole family in terrible danger. She could not live with that thought. She would have no choice. She would have to present herself to her father. At least he no longer wanted her dead, but no doubt he wanted something.

  They finally arrived on the scene, soldiers laid strewn about, many moaning in pain and some bleeding badly from their mouths and noses. Some eyes were blackened shut and a few bones protruded at foreign angles. And in the middle of the melee stood a man, tall and lean with long dark hair.

  He slowly raised his head, his fingers raking back his long ebony hair and exceptionally dark eyes peered at her intrusively. His face was all sharp angles and lines, as if his features were sculpted by a master craftsman, and he wore a feral smile.

  Mercy shivered.

  “His bark is worse than his bite,” Duncan whispered.

  “Now you can clean up the mess, since you waited so long to help,” Reeve yelled at them.

  “It doesn’t look it,” Mercy murmured.

  “And why the hell have you brought a wisp of a woman to a battle?” Reeve demanded.

  “You’re complaining that you needed help?” Duncan asked and turned to Trey. “This is a night to remember.”

  “The night our brother Reeve whined about needing help,” Trey said with a laugh.

  “Did I say I needed help?” Reeve yelled. “I swatted these soldiers, if you can call them that, as easily as flies.”

  “Then you can clean them up just as easily,” Duncan said.

  Mercy watched as Reeve grabbed one wounded soldier struggling to stand by the back of his neck and tossed him into a thicket of bushes as if he was a sack of feathers.

  “I’ve cleaned many of my own messes up,” Reeve said approaching them. “Now answer my question that you’ve so blatantly ignored. Why bring a frail woman to a battle?”

  “I may be small, but I’m not frail,” Mercy retorted with a sneer.

  “Damn, she’s got a bite to her,” Reeve said and grinned.

  Mercy was surprised by the way his broad grin changed his features. Suddenly he seemed approachable and not so sinister.

  Reeve stopped by Duncan’s horse. “The answer to my ques
tion is?”

  Trey laughed. “Why don’t you just show him, Duncan?”

  Duncan obliged, raising his arm slowly.

  Reeve shook his head and laughed aloud. “This wee bit of a woman’s got you locked good and sound.”

  “It’s the king who locked us together good and sound,” Duncan informed him.

  Reeve’s grin vanished and he spun around to face the wounded soldiers hurrying to gather their injured and be gone. “Tell your false king that his time has come. Soon he will rule no more.”

  One soldier grew bold. “Those who follow the mythical king will rue their choice.”

  “Be gone with you, you fools,” Reeve commanded.

  The brave soldier stood and bowed. “M’lady, your father the king wishes your safe return. Please come with us.”

  Mercy couldn’t see Duncan’s face, but she felt his body tense solid and if the glares Reeve and Trey sent her were any indication of Duncan’s reaction…she was in trouble.

  Chapter 23

  Mercy had hoped she could slip away before her identity had become known. Now that it had she had no choice but to bargain for Duncan and his family’s safety. She kept her courage strong as she told the young soldier, “Tell my father that unless he can guarantee the safety of this family and land that I will not be returning home.”

  Duncan’s voice suddenly boomed from behind her. “Tell the king his daughter will never be returning home. She belongs to me now…Duncan MacAlpin.”

  “You wish to ransom her?” the soldier asked.

  “Clean your ears out, you fool,” Reeve yelled. “Did you hear any mention of a ransom?”

  “I don’t understand,” the soldier said.

  Duncan wrapped his fingers around Mercy’s and raised their chained wrists high. “The king gave her to me and I plan on keeping her.”

  “The king did no—”

  Duncan didn’t let him finish. “The king wanted her dead. Now he changes his mind and wants her back.” He shook his head. “No. She stays here with me.”

  “I shall inform the king,” the soldier said.

  “Make sure you do,” Duncan warned.

  The soldier turned and helped one of his fallen comrades to his feet before disappearing into the woods. Warriors arrived then, following the ragtag bunch to make certain not one lingered.

  When Reeve and Trey lowered their heads and walked away, she knew it had been by Duncan’s silent command. She had expected he would want to speak with her about this right away and she couldn’t blame him. She only hoped he understood.

  She wanted to face him and discuss the matter and he must have had the same idea for his hands settled snug on her waist and with a lift and a twist she was suddenly sitting sideways in his lap, his arm snug around her.

  She spoke first. “I’m the king’s bastard daughter.”

  “And you didn’t think it was important to tell me that?”

  There was no anger or accusation in his tone. However, Mercy thought she heard disappointment.

  “You were a stranger—”

  “Not for long,” he said.

  “True,” she agreed, “but I believed it best for us both if my identity remained unknown.”

  “Perhaps at first I could see the reason in that, but not later,” he said. “You should have trusted me.”

  “I did—” She shook her head. “I do trust you.”

  “Not enough to tell me who you really are.”

  “You know who I am better than anyone.”

  “I thought I did,” he said.

  She tensed and raised her chin. “Being the king’s bastard daughter has little to do with who I really am. I revealed my true self to you. If you cannot see that, then you are a fool.” She had to stop a moment and swallow down the catch in her throat. And then with courage she wasn’t sure she had, she said, “It’s time for this chain to come off.”

  They exchanged not a word on the return ride and when they stopped at the smithy, a mix of emotions rose up to choke her. She wanted to be free of the chain, but she didn’t want to be free of Duncan and she feared that just might happen.

  Harry, the smithy, was short and round and strong as an ox. He examined the metal cuffs and the thick chain, scratched his partially bald head and looked them over again.

  “This is best left until tomorrow,” he announced.

  Mercy almost laughed at the sense of joy that assaulted her, though it was mixed with apprehension of what was to come.

  “Are you sure of that, Harry?” Duncan asked.

  He scratched his bald spot again, then nodded toward Mercy. “It’s her I worry about. She’s a wee wisp of a thing and if I don’t take my time and I’m not careful, I could break her wrist.”

  “Then tomorrow it is,” Duncan said and after a brief chat about how Harry’s family was doing, they left.

  They walked back to the keep alone. Trey and Reeve had gone ahead taking Duncan’s stallion with them. She wished he would say something and then again she was afraid of what she might hear. And then part of her was angry with him for not understanding and another part understood why this troubled him.

  Her emotions so overwhelmed her she felt as if she was about to burst.

  They entered the keep, his parents along with Trey and Reeve sitting at one of the long tables and benches. They all looked over at them and it was Mara who waved them over to join the family.

  While Mercy understood that his family was probably concerned about this matter, she felt that she and Duncan should first discuss it privately, and so she told him just that.

  “I wish to go upstairs and talk.”

  “And I wish to speak with my family first.”

  His decision disturbed her and she bristled.

  “This affects them as well,” he said.

  She shook her head annoyed and a slight dizziness assaulted her, though she ignored it. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I was concerned how my presence here would affect you and your family’s safety?”

  “Then you should have told me the truth,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “And what would you have done?” she asked slapping her free hand to rest on her hip.

  His eyes narrowed and he brought his nose to within an inch of hers. “I would have—” He stopped abruptly.

  She glared at him. “Go on, tell me what would you have done when you discovered the woman you were chained to was the bastard daughter of the king?”

  Mercy could have cringed when she realized she had raised her voice to a near scream. Everyone stared at them and she simply shook her head at her own foolishness. Not a smart reaction since it caused a wave of dizziness to wash over her. Her stomach turned queasy and her head grew foggy.

  She couldn’t faint now, she just couldn’t. It would make her appear weak or needy and she didn’t want either. She had survived much these last few weeks and she would survive more and she would fight. Yes, she would fight for Duncan.

  Her hand felt heavy but she managed to lift it and rest it on Duncan’s chest. She couldn’t remember what it was she wanted to say.

  “Mercy?”

  She heard his concern and she wanted to smile. That was her Duncan, the man who worried about her, the man who protected her, the man who fought to keep her safe.

  It came to her then. She wanted him to know that she loved him but for some reason her thoughts and mouth weren’t working as they should and only one word spilled out. “Help.”

  Duncan scooped her up into his arms and yelled, “I have you. Do you hear me, Mercy? I have you. You’re safe.”

  “Stop screaming at her,” his mother ordered as she reached his side. “She’s just fainted. She needs rest, not charging into battle.”

  “Then why didn’t you stop her?” Duncan asked accusingly.

  Reeve joined them, slipping an arm around his mother’s shoulders. “So are you going to take a stick to him now or later?”

  “Watch it or I’ll take a stick to
you,” Mara warned. “And as far as you—” She pointed to Duncan. “Not only does Mercy have a mind of her own, but you had it in your head that you wanted her to go with you. So you both got what you wanted.”

  Reeve grinned and went to say something, but his mother cut him off.

  “Not another word, Reeve. Mercy needs tending.” With that she was shoving Duncan toward the stairs. “Get her into bed. She needs food and rest to restore her strength.”

  Duncan had her up the stairs and in bed before her eyes began fluttering open.

  “You best wake up,” he encouraged. “We have much to discuss.”

  Mara swatted his arm. “Not tonight. She’s had enough.”

  “But—”

  Mara placed a gentle hand on her son’s shoulder. “Let it be. She needs your caring right now, not your anger.”

  Duncan nodded and gave his mother a hug.

  Mara smiled and patted his arm. “It will all work out in due time. Now let’s get her out of these cumbersome garments and into something that will help her rest. You start undressing her while I go get what we need.”

  Mercy opened her eyes just as Mara left the room.

  “I’ve orders from my mother to disrobe you,” Duncan said with a grin.

  Mercy nearly sighed. There was her old Duncan, the one she was familiar with, the one who she knew cared for her beyond reason.

  “Then what are you waiting for?” she asked, though when she tried to smile, her head pained her and she winced.

  “You’re not feeling well.”

  His concern comforted her, but she wished to reassure him. “Just a bit out of sorts.”

  “You’ll rest tonight,” he insisted.

  “You’ll stay with me?”

  He rattled the chain. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “But do you want to?” she asked, her eyes focused on his.

  “I’m right where I want to be.”