Bound to a Warrior (16 page)

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Authors: Donna Fletcher

BOOK: Bound to a Warrior
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She would need to leave, but how was she going to do that?

How was she going to walk away from the man she had come to love?

D
uncan sat on the bed beside Mercy taking her in his arms. He was relieved they had finally made it home and though he certainly wouldn't mind spending one more night fettered to her, he knew it was time for the chain to come off.

There was work to be done, work that she couldn't be part of. Not that he planned on letting her slip away. Not now, not when he had just found her, just realized how much he loved her. And that was what he wanted her to learn and see for herself…just how much he loved her and always would.

“Ready for the chain to come off?” he asked.

“As strange as it was at first being shackled to you, now it will seem even stranger not to be,” she said.

“It didn't take long for us to grow accustomed to it,” he reminded.

“No, it certainly didn't,” she admitted with a grin. “That was because you were so chivalrous.”

He leaned down and stole a quick kiss. “It wasn't easy.
There were times…” He stared at her a moment. “That I so badly wanted to do this.”

He kissed her strong and hard, as he had wanted to since arriving at the keep. He wanted to remind her how he felt about her, how he forever ached for her, how he simply couldn't resist kissing her, not now, not ever.

Her eager response thrilled and excited him, much too much. She was in no condition to make love. She needed rest and yet he couldn't stop kissing her, didn't want to stop kissing her. It would be so easy to slide into bed beside her and ease his hands under her garments to touch all those intimate places that drove not only her wild, but had him growing hard simply thinking about it.

“Stop that!”

Duncan jumped up at the sound of his mother's scolding voice and once again wrenched Mercy's arm.

She gave a holler and scrunched her face in pain.

“I'm sorry,” he said apologetically and hunched down beside the bed. He rubbed away the pain lines on her forehead. “I responded to my mother's voice as I always have.” He smiled. “Quickly and with a touch of fear.”

“I trained my sons well,” Mara said with a laugh that plumped her full cheeks.

“Now I know where you get your humor,” Mercy said. “You are much like your mother.”

Mara beamed. “I'm getting to like this woman more and more.”

“You just want me married and making babies,” Duncan teasingly accused.

“Of course I do,” Mara admitted. “Lots of babies, but she is in no condition to do that right now, besides the food will be here any moment.”

As if Mara was heard, a knock sounded at the door and she opened it to allow servant after servant to enter with laden-filled trays.

“Look at all that food, Duncan,” Mercy said and eagerly licked her lips.

He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “And here I thought you only had a taste for me.”

Her warm cheek stung his cool one as she pressed it against his. “I'm saving the tastiest, most delicious for last.”

“Now you're really tempting me,” he warned.

She placed her lips so close to his ear that he thought she would kiss it, but instead she whispered. “Since I must stay off my backside, where then do you suggest I settle?”

Visions of her on top of him had his heart beating madly and his manhood aching.

“Keep teasing me and I'll settle you right on top of me.”

“Enough whispering,” Mara ordered. “Time to eat, and then time to remove that chain.”

Neither of them said a word. Duncan helped her stand and he saw that this time her stance was firm and steady. They settled at the table and they both had barely taken a bite when Trey rushed in the room.

“Soldiers have been spotted at the border and Reeve is but a short distance away.”

Mara looked from one son to the other. “What are you waiting for? Go help your brother. And don't dare come back without him, and see that not a one of you gets hurt.”

Duncan jumped up and this time Mercy went with him.

He shook his head. “I forgot about the chain.”

“I can go with you,” Mercy offered.

“No,” Trey and his mother said in unison.

Duncan felt Mercy tense.

“I have fought beside him more than once,” Mercy said proudly.

“It's no longer necessary that you risk your life,” Trey said.

“It will take too long for the smithy to free us,” Mercy argued.

“She's right about that,” Mara said. “Harry told me it might take some time to get even one metal cuff off, since the king's cuffs are forged together, making it impossible to break free without much hard work.”

“We're wasting time discussing this,” Mercy said.

“You need rest,” Mara reminded her firmly.

“I need to help save another, as I was saved,” Mercy said adamantly.

“I told you she was like you, Mother,” Duncan said with pride.

Mercy smiled at Mara. “I'll make certain to bring your three sons back without a scratch.”

Mara laughed. “Then be off with you and be safe.”

Duncan didn't like placing Mercy in danger again,
but he also didn't like not being there to help his brother. And he was proud of the way she immediately stood to join him, even though rest had been advised. She didn't even question why he needed to go when one would assume that surely he'd have warriors to look after the matter. Or perhaps she understood that you never leave your brother to fend for himself. Or could it be as simple as her standing by his side? After all they had grown accustomed to it.

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 war
riors 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 question 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.”

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