Bold (The Handfasting)(20)

"You want her blood?" He spread her cloak, lowered it so all could see as his touch roamed mounds and valleys, squeezed and soothed in turn. Her buttocks were cradled in his arms, her legs wrapped about his waist, her breasts a breath away from his lips as he strode the perimeters of the circle. A boastful male.

"She wants me to destroy the MacBede girl, daughter of a Chief." He shouted.

Brushing her chest against his mouth, she pleaded. "Promise me The MacKay will have no heir."

Ah, so that was it.

"I want to kill him." He grabbed her bottom, raised her up, to slide her down along his rigid need before placing her, once again, on the altar. "Torture him.”

"Her, kill her." She scrambled on the blood slick stone to kneel before him.

He shoved her down, onto her back, her hair tangled in blood, and leaned over her, master of what he beheld. She griped his arms, as though she knew he would soon leave this subject. "He must live to be humiliated, to see his own destruction. She is in the way. She can die. Must die."

"Devil’s harlot." His chuckle was lost as he teased her nipple. "Perfect.”

"You promise."

"Oh, my lusty earth bride. I promise, with pleasure. Here, on this altar, we will slice her slowly, little by little. Her screams will make my blood rise. I will want to take you for days afterward. But now, tonight, all bargaining is done. We will think of nothing else, but my plundering you."

Arching his neck he shouted, "Take your wenches men! Seed their bellies!"

He was too late. Two lines had become one thick writhing cord as bodies sank to the ground, chants turned to moans of pleasure mingled with screams and cries. Cloaks opened, flesh meshed, male to female, a time old chain of fertility.





CHAPTER 11 - A MEANS OF ESCAPE



Days filled with the land opening up to forever. They skirted the mountain, rode at the base of foothills, across open stretches that dipped and fell. Rugged terrain at a rugged pace, on horseback when Maggie had never ridden as much as a morning before.

Many of their group walked. Talorc refused to let Maggie join them. She wouldn’t forgive him for the pain of it, riding, when she was not accustomed to such things.

Strong boned and buxom, Diedre, rode up and reached over, giving Maggie’s arm a comforting pat. “Don’t fret now lass, the time will fly.”

Diedre, a MacKay companion for Maggie. A woman who convinced the Bold that Maggie would need one for the ride. Female companionship in the likes of the MacBede’s Muireall, the widow. Proof the women at Glen Toric would not be so different to back home. Thoughtful of the Bold. Generous of Diedre, for they were in a troop of men. She rather suspected that was Diedre’s reason for joining the adventure.

As for Maggie? She was more than used to the company of men, especially warriors. Probably more comfortable with them than women.

Still, she appreciated the gesture especially as the woman did not hover but left Maggie to herself often enough.

Open and friendly one minute, too close another before Deidre would go off, flirting with the men as widows were wont to do, sneaking off with one or another. Plenty of men on this ride and only two women. Muireall would have liked those odds herself.

“The Bold may be a great man, but he’s also a man. Can’t be around one without some ill feeling festering,” Diedre claimed, an old mother hen even thought they were of an age. “Best to get bad thoughts out of a body or they sour the soul.”

Off with someone the night before, Maggie didn’t have to wonder about the smile the woman wore.

“Sore?” Diedre asked.

Maggie mumbled not as comfortable with complaining aloud as Diedre. “Aye. Don’t know why he won’t let me walk.”

“He’s the Laird. He’s used to telling others what to do.”

“And they all listen.”

Diedre nodded. “Of course. Like lambs and a shepherd.”

“Lambs are slaughtered.” Maggie countered and they both laughed. Only it wasn’t funny. She was being led as though she had no will of her own.

What had happened to her dignity, to her self-respect? Who was he to tell her she couldn’t walk, when riding for days was not natural. She may not be able to walk, if she didn’t get down off this beast soon.

Still, she kept the litany to herself, decided to deal with the issue her own way. She halted her horse on the downward slope, lifted her leg gingerly over its neck and slowly eased off.

“Are you needen’ to freshen up?” Diedre frowned. They had only just remounted from a short break. “It would be better if we wait until we reach the bottom of the hill. There’s a wee stream down there. See?” And she pointed.

Maggie had seen it, a thin thread winding through the valley floor. “Aye.” It took a few moments to straighten her legs against aches in places she didn’t know a body could ache.

William rode up. “Is there a problem?”

“No.” Maggie handed him her reins before he could refuse them. “I’d rather walk, if you don’t mind.”

“The Bold says you’re to ride.”

“He can do as he pleases. I will do as I please.”

She didn’t want to argue, she didn’t want to be persuaded, or treated like a recalcitrant child. She just wanted to walk, so she turned away and strode down the hillside taking a path with large boulders, difficult for a horse to follow.

“Wait!” Diedre called, but Maggie kept moving as sounds of the other woman closed in on her.

“You needn’t run from me.” Diedre huffed, out of breath. “If you ask me, he’s too high handed by half with you.”

“He is that.” Maggie snapped.

“The man just up and took you from your home.”

“He did that.” Maggie lifted her chin. “Just pulled me from my home, my people, what I wanted and then makes me ride that bloody . . .”

Diedre put a hand on her arm. “He has his reasons, I’m sure. And he’s a handsome man, no?”

“I’m not blind.”

“And you feel something for him?”

Maggie pulled away, looked at the mountains, honest enough to keep silent rather than admit the truth. Aye, she felt something for him but it was such a muddled mess there was no explaining it.

“You’re set on leaving him, are you?”

Was that an insult to his people? She didn’t mean it as such. “I didn’t want to leave my own.”

“No.” Diedre sat on a boulder. Maggie turned to see her motioning someone away. Another glance confirmed it was the Bold.

Diedre continued. “You didna’ want to leave your home, but you can go back. Just keep that in mind. You can have yourself a fine adventure and then go back. We’re not so bad, you see. You’ll like the folks of Glen Toric.”

“My brothers say the keep is built on caves.”

Diedre smiled and nodded. “Aye, scary if you ask me. But they’re down there, underneath us, dark and full of the echoes of whatever creatures are hiding in there.”

Maggie shivered, pulled her plaid closer around her. “I’ve never been in a cave, but I don’t much care for the dark.”

“Hmn,” the other woman considered that. “The men are waiting for us.”

“Then let’s move on down, so they can move as well.”

“I think the Bold is going to join us.”

Maggie looked, and sure enough, the man was finding his way between the rocks. Agile for such a big man. She would give him that much. He was just too good at everything. He was a fool if he thought they were a match. Foolish and impetuous was what she was, a far cry from good at everything.

Her biggest fear was that she would be foolish and impetuous with him.

“He’s a fine warrior, Maggie. I know you’re afraid he will be killed, but he’s lived to now.”

“Aye, until now.”

“My husband, bless his soul, was a warrior.”

Talorc gained on them. Hoping for a few more moments on foot, Maggie grabbed Diedre’s arm and aimed them both further down the hillside.

They were of an age, yet Diedre had already been married, birthed a child and been abandoned as a widow. That was the problem with warriors, they did things like that. Maggie kept silent. The woman didn’t need reminding of what was.

“You may have the right of things. I don’t think I would marry another warrior. It’s too much of a worry. Waiting for days, weeks when they go out for the fight. It eats at a body.”

“Aye.” Maggie nodded, glad she had Diedre, that the Bold had thought to bring her.

Diedre stopped, pulled Maggie around so they spoke face to face, eye to eye. “Just don’t let him near. Stick with the women folk and don’t let him near. Then you can have a high time with us, and return home to anyone you want.”