Risk Everything (8 page)

“Dinna dare!” Rolf ’s command stopped Alpin’s hand inches from Meghan’s cheek. “Move away,” he ordered as the crowd surged closer to see the spectacle. Rolf halted. “Listen and listen well,” he shouted so everyone could hear. “Meghan of Blackthorn is mine.
Mine alone
.” He paused and glared around him. “No man, no woman, no youth may discipline her but me.”

They had reached the entrance to the castle walls and had passed through into the front bailey where more curious people swarmed around them.

Simple chirped, distressed, and Meghan cuddled her close so she could smooth the dainty little head.

“Be she a slave then, brother?” called a voice that cracked between a youth’s and a man’s. Garith shoved through the crowd and stood in front of Meghan. His right arm hung listless by his side. Upon seeing the chafed skin of Meghan’s neck, he frowned.

“Nay, she is to be our guest,” Rolf answered.

Laughter rang out from the people crowding around them.

“If she be our guest, Rolf, ’tis a mean way of showing our hospitality, draggin’ her about by a noose,” a woman’s angry

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voice said. She looked fit to lay a pan about his head. She reached to lift the rope away, but Rolf stopped her.

“Leave it be, Ede. The lass is lacking in proper respect for men. I will say when to remove it.”

Putting her hands on her hips, Ede flipped her red tresses with a jerk of her head. Blue fire spit from her eyes. “I canna believe you are my cousin. No MacDhaidh has e’er treated a lass so.”

“No MacDhaidh has e’er had Meghan of Blackthorn to deal with,” Rolf answered. “All of ye, go about your business.

’Tis no spectacle for your amusement. Begone.”

The crowd murmured, some hostile now that they knew

’twas a woman of Blackthorn who stood there. Others darted furtive looks of sympathy toward Meghan, but soon they all moved away. Not to go about their business, though. They fiddled around, trying to look busy while watching Rolf ’s every move.

Only Alpin, Garith, and Ede refused to heed his command.

“We go to the stables, Meghan.”

She glanced about and spied the structure at the right side of the bailey. Without a word, she headed toward it.

He well understood why they called her the “Warrior Woman of Blackthorn.” Not once did her shoulders slump, nor did she show distress in any way. He knew her mortifica-tion was deep. The blow to her pride must cost her every bit of control she possessed.

Would her humiliation soften her, or would it make this proud woman even more defiant?

Knowing the answer, he sighed.

So be it.

Chapter 7

Rolf waited beside the stable door until the stable master and his helpers appeared.

“Garith, see the grooms take special care with the gelding.

His name is Storm.” He pointed at one young stable hand and ordered, “Bring me a soft leather strap fit for a woman’s neck and a lead no more than three paces long.” The boy took off on a run. Rolf frowned at the other grooms. “Ne’er leave the horse and this woman alone. She has trained him well.”

Meghan sucked her teeth and glared at him.

Rolf handed his own reins to the stable master. “See Horse has the same treatm—”

Meghan’s loud scoff interrupted him.

“His name be
Luath
,” she informed the stable master;

“Speed is his finest feature. As your master has neglected to give him a proper name, I have.”

The stable master looked quickly at his master. When Rolf made no protest, the man nodded to Meghan.

The newly named Luath nudged her back, then nickered and tossed his head, making his silky mane fly. Looking proud of himself, he gave a few excited stomps before settling down.

“Ye dinna have to thank me. Ye deserve a noble name,” she said gravely.

The woman was daft! She talked to the horse as if she believed it knew her words. Barely within his castle’s walls a heartbeat in time, and she ordered his people. Yet the name suited. Why had he not thought of it? He wouldna counter-mand her.

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The head falconer stood in the background, his head tilted to the side and a smile on his face as he waited. His kind eyes peered at Simple, then searched Meghan’s face.

“The little feathers will be fine with Malcolm,” Rolf said.

Meghan watched the falconer for a few moments, then seemed to decide. “Come, love.” She ran her hand over Simple’s head, soothing her, then offered Malcolm her wrist.

The falconer placed her fingertips atop his hand and laid his gauntlet-covered arm alongside her own. Rolf winced at the falconer’s glare on seeing raw skin and burns there. As the man murmured to the bird, Simple looked at him, back at Meghan, and took one tentative step.

“ ’Tis fine ye will be. Malcolm will see ye have a proper feedin’.” She whistled softly. “Go now.”

Simple hopped onto Malcolm’s wrist and waited while he placed a hood over her head and tied it.

“Dinna ye worry, I will take fine care of the wee birdie.” He left, whispering encouragement to the nervous sparrowhawk.

Rolf turned to Alpin and Ede, who stood side by side, Alpin’s silvery blond hair near mingling with Ede’s own fiery red. “I will meet you in the great hall after I finish with Meghan of Blackthorn.”

Alpin smirked, his icy blue eyes flashing satisfaction at the rope around Meghan’s neck before he left. Ede refused to budge. Flames spit from her deep blue eyes, making them even more striking.

“Go! Dinna question how I handle this woman.”

With a huff, she turned, muttering to herself as she went out into the bailey.

Rolf took in an irritated breath, then regarded his captive.

“You will stay here,” he informed her as he led her inside the stable and looked around. He still seethed that she had dared draw a weapon on him. Should she show him such foolish defiance afore his warriors, he couldna do else but have her whipped. His stomach churned at the thought of a lash striking her soft skin. How should he secure her? He couldna leave her arms free. She would slip from her binds

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and be out the door in a trice. Her wrists were too sore to bind them. Not her upper arms, though.

The young boy returned with a small strap that would chaff Meghan’s neck less than the harsh rope. Rolf led her to the side wall where they had embedded an iron ring to tether the horses. She stiffened, sensing his intention.

“I am as an animal to ye?” The air between them crackled with sparks, and her face grew red with anger. Before he removed the noose, he placed the leather strap around her neck and tightened it only enough that she could not slip it over her head. He attached the leather lead to an iron ring on the strap.

He noted her hands clench and didna doubt she wished to claw his eyes. His jaw set, determination was in each movement as he pulled the lead through the ring and knotted it.

“Turn around.” She stood, unmoving. He spun her to face the wall and freed the noose from around her neck, then looped a long piece of leather around her right arm at elbow height and secured it there. Grasping the other elbow, he did the same, leaving the width of four hands between her arms.

She could neither lower the leather to her wrists nor raise her arms to release the strap around her neck. He didna doubt her resolve to escape, though. A guard at the door would be added assurance.

He left her and returned with a small crate and placed it against the wall for her to sit on.

“Why do ye not put me in a stall, throw some straw about the floor, and oats in a pail?”

Her chin quivered before she clamped her teeth together and turned her back to him. By the cross, she was right. The horses the men curried and pampered were in better shape than she was. How had he become so hardened to a woman that he would treat her thusly? Hearing his brother talking to Storm gave him his answer.

Treachery had hardened him to
this
woman.

Because of Connor, his young brother had little use of his right arm.

Because of Connor, his wife and son had died.

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Outside the stable door, Alpin and Dougald awaited him.

His mind quickly filled with the happenings of Rimsdale during his short absence. After he reached the great hall, he re-buffed all questions about Meghan. His hard face and steel-hard eyes spoke more than words. He wouldna speak of her. As evening fell, tension grew. Cook’s helpers carried in bowls of steaming food, but not even their mouth-watering aroma lightened his mood.

He noted that the deer Meghan had brought down graced the savory stew. Halfway through his meal, he felt Ede’s aggrieved glare.

“After you are done with your meal, Ede, see the Blackthorn woman is fed.” Ede shoved her trencher aside, more troubled with his captive’s hunger than with her own.

“Dinna untie her. Feed her with your own hand.” His mouth tightened into a hard line.

Ede grabbed a tray from a serving girl, a trencher filled with stew from another, and a cup of ale from a third. The whole time she filled the tray, a frown marred her sweet face. “What have we become that we would treat a woman of gentle birth in such a way? No good will come of it. Just you wait and see.”

She shook her head, her worry evident in the frown lining her brow. “When all is said and done, Rimsdale will suffer.”

“Rimsdale suffers now because of Connor of Blackthorn.

Had he not tried to capture my sweet Ingirid, she and my son would yet live. Had Garith not sought to defend my wife, his arm would yet be whole. Ne’er speak to me of my care of Connor’s sister.”

Ede turned her back and headed out the door. She had the last word as she shouted at him, “Meghan of Blackthorn isna Connor. She wasna on that raid. ’Tis wrong to make the lass pay for her brother’s deeds.”

He winced. Before he could reply, she was gone.

Tethered like a wild animal within the stable, her hair snarled, Meghan’s resolve hardened with every breath she took. Never had she been so tired, so full of aches from her bruised head to her blistered feet.

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Aye, she had been this tired, she corrected her thoughts.

The first time her cousin Mereck took over her training with the quintain. Before the day dimmed, her mistakes had left her with bruises over most of her back. She had been un-horsed so many times she couldna sit for the evening meal.

But she had not minded the aches and pains, for she had learned much that day. That eve, Mereck’s praise in front of all in the great hall made up for every twinge.

Not so this day. To be honest, ’twas not her sore wrists or the bruises over much of her body that caused such distress.

Nor was it hunger and weariness as she fought to keep her back straight and her shoulders level.

’Twas her pride that suffered the most.

Had she been daft to take refuge in the cave? That
particular
cave? Had she any idea who pursued her, she wouldna have gone there. Rolf was the one who showed it to her those years ago. Back when she believed he would ask Grandda for her hand. Afore things had gone so very wrong.

Now he treated her as he would a raving beast.

Someone spoke to the guard outside the door. As it squeaked open, she stiffened her posture. She blinked and her mouth watered as the smell of well-cooked stew floated on the air. The woman who carried the heavy tray was the same red-haired lass who had scolded Rolf earlier. He had called her Ede. She was short and softly formed, round in all the right places. The guard waited several paces away, his arms folded across his chest. So, Rolf didna even trust her alone with his cousin.

“Meghan, I have come to help you eat.” She turned to the guard. “Bring a pail of water and a cloth so I may cleanse her face.”

“Nay. The MacDhaidh said she was not to receive any comfort but ale and victuals.” He frowned and his shoulders twitched.

“If you be afeared of Rolf, I am not. I will get them myself.” She went over and thrust the tray at him.

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“Nay, lady. Do ye do so, I must needs tell him of it.” He backed up and refused to accept the tray.

“Ede, please dinna fash yerself.” Meghan forced a smile to her lips, acting like she was in the great hall at Blackthorn.

Ignoring her state of disarray, she lifted her head with pride.

“Well now, the least you can do is bring somethin’ I may place the tray on,” Ede said as she scowled at the man.

He nodded and brought forth a short barrel from the first stall. Plunking it down in front of Meghan’s crate, he returned to stand beside the door.

Meghan sat and stifled her unease at being fed like a bairn. Though ’twas degrading, she needed the meal to keep up her strength. After several mouthfuls, she couldna force down another.

“Nay, ’tis kind of ye to tend me, but I be more thirsty than hungry. If ye please, I am content to finish the ale.” When Ede held the cup to her lips, she forced herself to swallow it all, then smiled at the woman. “Thank ye for yer kindness.”

Ede flashed her a smile before she turned and stalked to the sleeping quarters in the rear. “Prepare a fresh pallet and bring it to me,” she ordered two young stable boys. After they carried one out to her, she plumped it up and placed it near the wall. “ ’Tis not the best, but it will give you some ease.” Having done all she could for Meghan’s comfort, she flashed her an apologetic smile and left with the guard.

Meghan sighed and relaxed her shoulders. Her efforts to appear unfazed had taken a toll on her strength. She sat on the crate and waited until she heard naught but night sounds, then she knelt on the floor and eased her tired body onto the pallet.

Sometime during the darkest hours, she heard whispers on the other side of the door and the sound of coins changing hands. Though usually agile, when she tried to rise to her feet, she stumbled. With catlike movements, a man entered and waited for his eyes to adjust, giving her time to steady herself.

He crept closer.

A hand reached out and grasped her arms. After he forced her close against him, he jerked her head back. The stench of