Forged in Dreams and Magick (Highland Legends #1)(76)
The word prisoner soaked my smoldering brain like an icy rain shower and put things in the proper life-or-death perspective. Hotheadedness would not only get me nothing, it would likely get me a whole lot of nothing I wanted.
On a deep sigh, I lowered my eyes, showing him the respect he demanded. “Yes, Drust, forgive me. My emotions got the better of me.”
Drust backed off a step, snorting. He glared down from his imposing height, waiting.
Velloc scowled. His deep, constrained breaths gave me no indication of the target of his anger, but my mind, wide-awake as an espresso junkie’s, knew he fumed beneath the surface.
The smart girl in me turned and lowered myself back down next to Velloc. My impetuous, insolent ass intended to stay there, roots shooting down into the log, mouth sealed shut. Velloc loved me, had my interest at heart when circumstance allowed, and would negotiate on my behalf when and where he could.
Drust remained standing and paced back and forth between Scota and the end of the fire pit. “I need to know more than how many Romans. We need to know when they plan to strike. To anticipate their position at different times gives us an advantage—our cleverness to their size.”
He stopped before me. Silver eyes bored into mine. “You will tell me these things.”
The paradox of an unbelievably difficult position settled into my very lucid thoughts. I hadn’t expected a pop quiz, but a photographic memory only helped if I could provide them with pertinent facts. Unfortunately, the Roman’s accounting of the engagement was, at the very least, completely biased. Plus, providing what little known facts I had—as history purported them—could skew events in favor of the Picts to disastrous, history-changing proportions. Even if the Romans claimed victory only on paper, they survived and returned in numbers large enough to have Rome believe their accounting.
On the other hand, how did I know historical record hadn’t already included my influence? My situation left me no way to confirm whether disclosure would change the layout of time, or if my mere existence in the worlds I’d visited already had. Serious brain cramp and a dose of anxiety stopped my fruitless suppositions.
I looked up at Drust. “I’ll tell you all I can, which is more than you know. My accounting of Roman records will give you the edge you seek. However, I’ll do so only after you share the information we want.”
Equal parts humor and respect lit up Drust’s features as his gaze danced from me to Velloc. The unexpected response made me tighten my lips down to prevent laughter from bursting out. Drust returned to his seat and shook his head, laughing.
“Velloc, you’ve a feisty woman there.”
Velloc smiled and placed his hand on my thigh, squeezing gently. “Yes, I do. Now you see why I want to please her. Trust me . . . she more than satisfies me.”
I clenched my teeth to stop my jaw from falling. Locker-room talk belonged elsewhere . . . like in a locker room.
Drust chortled. Then his face grew serious again. He appraised us with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw as if weighing his options.
I’d shown up to the chess game fully prepared to win. Not only had I shown bravery in standing up to the fearsome leader, I’d also used tactical leverage to get what I wanted.
In my carefully worded statement, I’d changed Drust from demanding my obedience into showing me the respect of a worthy adversary. I smiled. The battle he wanted to win on the field first mandated my win of our negotiations.
Drust smirked, arching a brow as he looked pointedly at me. “You’ll hear the story tonight.” Then he glanced at Velloc, “Whenever you find the box, I have no doubt you will return it to me.”
The man’s confidence in our actions irritated me . . . but also piqued my interest.
CHAPTER Twenty-six
Over a thousand gathered in a natural amphitheater skirting their community. The grass-covered ground sloped upward, providing ample seating for those in attendance, which happened to be only a fraction of the entire tribe. From our patch of earth, fires still burning in the village allowed me to watch people moving between dwellings while we waited for their oral recitation of myth and legend to begin.
Velloc leaned in close to me, speaking low. “You were very brave today.”
I put my head on his shoulder, laughing softly. “Brave had nothing to do with my outburst. My anger got the better of me; I got stupid.”
He put his hand on the side of my head, smoothing my hair. Gentle lips kissed my forehead. “Sometimes our emotions rule us. How we handle the consequences . . . defines us.”
How profound. The man had the wisdom of several lifetimes. No wonder Velloc’s people had elevated him to their leader without hesitation. Great men are revered by those who seek their inspiration.
At the focal point of the earthen funnel where we sat, Drust stepped forward. A fire burned between where the chieftain stood and the audience awaiting his narrative.
I zeroed in on him, my breath catching. He stood commandingly tall, wearing a black cloak with a hood drawn over his head that hid his face. Before I got over my déjà vu, Drust began regaling the crowd. The acoustical topography projected his booming voice to everyone on the hillside as clearly as if he’d spoken through a megaphone.
“We are born of a people who have been graced by a god. On black wing he descended from the sky.” Drust flared the side of his cloak out, spinning hard to one side. “The creature spoke our language, understood our plight, and loved our tribe. His ancient form shifted to a human body bearing a great gift.” He turned hard, fanning out the other side of his cloak. “Our great leader took the metallic box from him and, with it, received infinite knowledge, fertility of the land and animals, and a love like he’d never known.”