Rescued by the Celtic Warrior (Roman Love ~ Pict Desire Series Book 1) (21 page)

She glanced back at Pia who chatted with Seumas. The man appeared middle aged and conversed quite animatedly.

“Is Seumas married?”

“He was. His wife passed away near three year’ ago.”

“Hmm.”

Taran regarded them over his shoulder. “Seems they’re getting along nicely.”

“Yes,” Valeria agreed. She bit the inside of her cheek. What must life be like for her nursemaid? She’d never really thought about it before.
I’ve been so completely sheltered and spoiled
. Pia deserved love like any other human being. Alas, she’d realized another fault with her beloved Roman ways. Slaves had no rights. They were not even entitled to live with their families. If a slave woman bore a babe, she would care for the child until he or she was able to work, and then the youth would be sold. A slave woman considered herself lucky if her owner chose to keep the child in his employ.

Who are the true barbarians?

Deep in thought, Valeria nearly jumped out of her saddle when a herd of deer bounded into the path only twenty feet ahead of them. Her mare reared. Holding on, she thrust her heels down to maintain her seat. Her heart hammered while she yanked on her left rein and pulled the mare’s head around into a circle to regain control.

Fionn charged ahead. Shoving the reins in his teeth, he armed his slingshot. He stood in his stirrups and whipped it over his head. With a flick of his wrist, the deadly projectile shot through the air. The stone hit its mark right in the back of a young buck’s head. The deer careened across the ground, dirt and debris flying in his wake. With a growl, Stag bolted forward and stood over the kill, teeth bared.

Taran laughed. “Aye, Staggie, boy, ye’re a vicious killer ye are. No one in all of Gododdin would dare steal our quarry with ye guarding it.”

“I certainly wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of Stag’s ire,” Pia said. “I know he’s a pussycat, but his snarl would make anyone quake.”

Fionn jumped down and checked to ensure the deer was dead, then quickly worked to remove its innards. He grinned at Valeria with blood splattered across his face. “We’ll be eating like kings tonight, m’lady.”

She gave him an approving nod. “Well done, Fionn. You are quite skilled with your strap of leather.”

A red blush lit up his cheeks. “Ta, m’lady.”

Valeria tried not to smile at his reaction. She hadn’t expected him to be embarrassed. “Would you be willing to show Manas how to throw the slingshot? It appears to be an effective weapon.”

“Aye, but it takes a skilled hand,” Greum agreed.

Valeria looked over at the wide-eyed boy. “What do you say, Manas?”

“Looks like fun, m’lady.”

With the season, the sun stayed out later. They made camp well before sunset. Stretching from a day cramped in their saddles, the men removed their armor. Fionn and Pia prepared the meat while Greum fashioned a makeshift spit for roasting.

Valeria assigned Manas to the gathering of firewood and turned to Taran. “Would you like to help me search for mushrooms?”

The lopsided grin spreading across his face made her weak at the knees. “ʼTis a fine idea.”

Valeria tied the four ends of a kerchief together to use as a basket and they set out into the woods. She stooped and lifted a fern, finding a clump of delicacies. “Do you know the difference between the good ones and the bad?”

“Aye. There’s not a Pict in Gododdin who doesn’t know his mushrooms.”

“That is good. With such an ample supply I’d think they are an important part of your diet.”

“Ye saw it yerself at Dunpelder. Not many meals are served without them.”

Valeria hummed as she worked. She relished Taran’s proximity, out from under the scrutiny of Pia and the others. Too soon, her kerchief filled. She stood erect and turned toward Taran—at least she thought he was behind her, but he’d vanished. Valeria turned in a circle. Her skin prickled. Was she alone, possibly lost? “Taran?”

A rustling approached. Squeezing her mushrooms against her body, she faced the sound. “Stag. Where is your man?”

Another rustle came from her right. Stag wagged his tail. “I’m here, lass.” Taran held out a bouquet of yellow ragwort and violet foxglove. “Ye told me ye like flowers.”

With a sigh, Valeria’s angst melted. He’d been gathering flowers—for her? She smiled and accepted his gift. “They’re lovely. Thank you.”

He stood in place without saying a word. His gaze focused on her—it wasn’t a friendly guise, but one that expressed the same desire burning deep within her heart.

Taran stepped forward.

Before she could gasp, the mushrooms dropped to the ground. Taran gathered her in his arms.

She lifted her chin and opened her mouth to speak, but his mouth covered hers. Her deep-seated longing ignited and spread fire between her hips. He crushed her breasts against his chest and thrust his tongue deep inside her mouth. Trembling with passion, Valeria languished in his smoldering kiss. If only it would never end. Her heart raced as she melted into him. She rubbed the full length of his hardened body against her, and he strengthened his grasp. Valeria clung to him, desperate to return every ounce of passion he gave. So overwhelmed, she swooned and gasped for air.

Taran’s eyes flashed open, his arms eased. “I’m sorry. Me feelings are so strong. Did I crush ye?”

Valeria pulled him close, her breasts aching to feel his powerful body brush them again. “I’m all right now. I don’t want you to stop.”

His lashes shuttered his sparkling blue eyes. He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers. “I must remember to be gentle with ye. Ye’re as fragile as a newborn fawn, m’lady.”

“I wouldn’t say that. But you’re more powerful than Hercules himself.”

Taran sealed his mouth over hers and kissed her, this time, slowly, deliberately, seductively. Her body shivered and her hips moved by their own volition, rubbing his hardened manhood. “Is there not a flaccid spot on your entire body?”

A husky chuckle came from deep inside his chest. “I’m afraid no. But ye have nothing to fear, yer virtue’s safe with me.”

Valeria kissed him again, closing her eyes and savoring the feeling of being completely on fire. Everything about him made her breathe faster—the feel of his powerful back beneath her fingertips, the woodsy scent of a potent man. She never wanted to forget the thrill of being in Taran’s arms.

Pulling away, she heaved a sigh, her eyes downcast. “This is unbelievably difficult, but I would not trade this time with you for anything.”

“I too will treasure each moment.” He kissed her forehead and then stooped to retrieve the mushrooms strewn across the forest floor. “We’d best go back.”

Valeria couldn’t sleep with the spicy scent of Taran’s masculine body resting beside her. The scene in the woods played out in her mind over and over, every outcome more sinful than the last. She glanced at Pia, whose familiar light snores announced her slumber. Seumas slept on Pia’s other side. Valeria wondered if there might be a fondness growing between the two.

She rolled to her side and rose up on her elbow to study Taran’s face in the moonlight. The tattoo on his cheek now seemed a natural part of him as it swirled under his square jaw.

She memorized the outline of his profile, his broad forehead giving way to an angular nose. In every way he was a ruggedly fierce warrior. Valeria’s inner yearnings churned. She liked his nose and the full lips beneath it. His hands were lightly freckled, as were his arms, sporting the same coppery hair that flowed in waves to his shoulders.
If only this were another time and place, our love might flourish.

As if he could hear her thoughts, he reached across and grasped her hand. She leaned in to see if his eyes might have opened, but he clearly slept. She lay back and closed her eyes. With her hand in his, sleep’s peaceful blanket rested upon her.

Rest was short lived, however. Thunder clapped and the skies opened to an unwelcome downpour.

Taran sprang up, shouting orders while he rushed to pack and mount Blackie. The peaceful camp erupted in a flurry of activity as shivering bodies gathered up their weapons and food.

Valeria tightened the girth on her mare’s saddle and pulled her cloak tight around her neck. Little good it did, she was already soaked clear through.

“Manas,” she called over her shoulder. “Are you ready to ride?”

“Aye, m’lady.” Already saddled, he walked his mount beside her. Droplets of water streamed down his grinning face.

Valeria chuckled. “Well, I didn’t tell you the adventure was going to be a fairy tale. If God…or Atar decides ʼtis time to water the forest, then so be it.” She glanced over her horse’s back. Taran caught her gaze, his eyes dark and intense. Time paused for a moment. Smiling, he offered a quick nod and mounted Blackie. The moment fled, but she couldn’t help but realize her mention of Atar had pleased him.

The rain continued through the morning while Taran led them off the path to a cave high up in a rocky hill. “We’ll have to tether the horses here and climb the rest of the way.”

Valeria dismounted with the others and handed her reins to Seumas, who hobbled the beasts together. Stag ran ahead of Taran. First to climb, he was followed by Manas, Valeria and Pia. Greum and Fionn brought up the rear to assist the ladies.

Stag reached the top and growled, backing into Taran. Valeria couldn’t mistake the hissing sound of his sword being pulled from its scabbard. Stag barked and snarled with escalating angst. Taran jumped beside the dog and landed in a crouch.

Valeria strained to see beyond him, but couldn’t make out the entrance to the cave through his blue surcoat and the driving rain. She pulled the dirk from her belt—the same one she’d used to defend herself against Runan. Manas palmed the small knife she’d given him for this journey.

Greum climbed up to her. “Back down so Fionn and I can move closer.”

Valeria beckoned to Manas.

Low growls erupted from the cave—but they weren’t from Stag. Greum hopped up in front of her while she receded down the rock. Her hands latched onto Manas and she scooted her body to one side to allow Fionn to pass.

Howls echoed from the depths of the cave.
Wolves.
Stag’s snarling bark became more intense as the wolves launched their attack. The deerhound yelped.

“Stag!” Valeria shouted.

Inhuman squeals of pain resounded when the pack met with the blades of her guardians. Valeria backed up to glimpse the fight. Taran roared, recoiling from a vicious bite to his arm. Clenching her dirk, Valeria raced to the rock and started to climb. Seumas tugged on her waist. “No, lass. They’ll finish them. Wolves are no match for the iron of a Pictish sword.”

Pia hugged her on one side and Valeria clung to Manas on the other. Helpless, they watched, while the wind and rain showered their faces. Yelps of pain echoed in concert with the thunder. The noise blared, racking her ears. All at once, the tumult stopped. Raindrops splashing against the rocks and dripping from the trees was the only sound.

Valeria’s questioning gaze shot to Seumas. Pia and Manas loosened their grasps and everyone leaned forward.

“ʼTis clear,” Taran’s voice boomed

Cautiously, they ascended the stony crag. Peering over the ledge, Valeria clapped a hand over her mouth and forced back her urge to heave. A gruesome sight, a half-dozen bloody wolf carcasses were scattered across the cave entrance. But when she caught sight of Stag lying on his side, blood oozing from a shoulder wound, she ran to him. She dropped to her knees and shoved her hand over the wound, pressing hard to staunch the bleeding.

Taran crouched beside her. “I’ll carry him inside. Pia, bring the medicine bundle.”

“I’ve got it right here. Manas, go fetch the pot and a waterskin.” Pia looked from Seumas to Fionn. “Can you light a fire?”

“If I can find some dry wood, ye’ll have yer flame,” Seumas said.

The recesses of the cave stank of wet dog, but at least they were out of the unrelenting rain. Pia prepared the water, adding raspberry leaves while Valeria held a strip of woolen cloth against Stag’s wound. Taran hovered over her, his brow furrowed.

Valeria watched a drop of blood drip from his arm. “You’ve been bitten.”

He waved his hand. “ʼTis nothing.”

“A wolf’s bite can fester. You’d best have Pia look at it,” Valeria spoke loud enough for Pia to hear.

In two steps, the matron studied Taran’s arm. “She’s right, we’ll need to cleanse and wrap it.” Pia looked at the others. “Was anyone else bitten?” Fortunately no one had, and Pia went to work on both the wounded.

The group shivered from the cold, huddled by a paltry fire. Valeria cradled Stag’s head in her lap, petting him gently, careful to avoid his injury. The dog moaned, enjoying the attention, the pain forgotten.

Taran sat on her opposite side and leaned in. “I wish I were Staggie Boy with me head in yer lap.”

“Too right, the dog’s got it better than any of us poor sops,” Greum agreed.

Taran held his hands out to the fire. “We should bring in some more wood and start it drying.” He looked across the cold and miserable faces. “Manas?”