Chapter 16 #4
To her surprise, she took a step toward him. “Daro did not do this. Daro would not do this!” she said angrily.
“I did not accuse Daro.”
“You accused me.”
His brow shot up. “You think that I should trust you?” he demanded.
She hesitated, and he could see her effort to control her temper.
“When I thought I could escape you, no. But I do find this prize worth the effort. It is my home. These are my people. I love them. I depend on them, and they depend on me. To me, it is everything. I find this prize well worth every effort, even if you don’t. ”
“I didn’t say I didn’t find it worth the effort.”
“You said—”
“I’ve yet to really explore the whole of the prize,” he told her pointedly, and he bowed to her and started to exit the room.
“Waryk,” she said, rushing forward to stop him.
She touched his arm, coming before him, then quickly withdrew her hand.
He paused, staring down at her. She waved a hand around, indicating the room.
“I’ve never slept here. These were my father’s rooms. They are quite well decorated with his weaponry.
Since you don’t trust me, perhaps you’d be happier if I kept my own chambers, they are just opposite from here, facing the courtyard rather than the sea—”
“Your father is dead, Mellyora,” he said. “And you may honor his memory, but this is the king’s fortress and not a shrine.”
“I didn’t intend to make it a shrine—”
“You’re the lady of the castle. You’ll sleep here.”
“And where will you sleep, Laird Lion?”
“Milady, I will sleep here.”
“Will you? But do you dare? Have you decided that you can trust my past?”
She was taunting him, he thought. Her eyes were bright, challenging, touched with a humorous fire. Pity he was so damned determined. He was tempted to sweep her up and see how quickly her good humor faded if he chose to act like her sainted father then and there.
But he smiled at her, shrugging as if the nights were of no difference to him. “Fine, my lady, I will sleep wherever I choose.”
He pushed her aside and exited the room, slamming the door.
In the great hall, he found Phagin, Angus, and Ewan seated at a huge carved table.
A fire burned in the hearth, and wine had been served.
He helped himself to a chalice of the wine and took a seat at the head of the table.
He looked from Phagin to Ewan. “No one knows from where this attack came?” he demanded.
“Nay, Laird Waryk. They came from out of the clouds. I told you, we’ve not seen a Viking attack in years and years. What Viking would come against Adin?”
“But they were Vikings,” Phagin said, and sounded distressed.
“Aye, that they were,” Waryk agreed.
“Mercenaries, perhaps …” Ewan suggested, looking puzzled.
“Maybe it isn’t so strange,” Phagin said. “While Adin lived, Vikings would not attack.”
“Ah, but the longboat attacks have been infrequent for a long time,” Waryk reminded him. “What would the Vikings hope to gain?”
“They couldn’t have hoped to scale the walls,” Ewan said.
“And in the village …” Phagin said. He stroked his long beard, then looked at Waryk with dark eyes. “Nothing. No great riches. Just hardworking farmers and craftsmen and their women. Women … Vikings have often stolen women, but …”
“Not enough reason for an attack.”
“Perhaps they just hoped to weaken our defenses, tear us up before …” Ewan began.
“Before what?”
Ewan looked at him curiously, then shrugged. “Before you arrived. I’m not certain what I mean.” He hesitated, then added, “There are men who enjoy destruction, rape, and death for the sake of no more than cruelty.”
Waryk sat back. He didn’t believe that Daro would come against him. But someone had used Daro’s camp. First, to take Mellyora. And now …
He had an enemy. Not strong enough to reach him yet. But with enough power and money to buy men—many men. And to frighten them. Frighten them into dying before telling him the truth about what was going on.
He rose. “Double the guard. MacKinny, Angus has been my right hand for many years. You’ll share that with him, just as you served Adin. For now. Tomorrow, you’ll show me every nook and cranny of this castle. And when we’re done, we begin.”
“Begin?” Ewan asked.
“Training. I’ve brought ten men, but I’m to have twenty ready when the king asks me to ride again, which will happen.
And under such circumstances, we’ll need more men here to be even more aptly trained—these attacks, I believe, will come again.
And we will lose no more lives, no more livestock. We will not allow attack.”
“Aye, sir!” Ewan said, rising.
Phagin rose as well. “I’ll see to our injured again, now that night is falling, m’laird. And we’ll bury our dead come the dawn.”
“I’ll see to the men,” Angus said.
“Aye,” Waryk agreed. The men started from the hall. “MacKinny!” he called sharply.
Ewan came back. He looked sheepish, and even nervous now.
“Aye?” he queried.
“I never condemn a man for the past, Ewan. I know that Mellyora once had hopes for a union—”
“I told her it would never be,” Ewan interrupted softly.
“You seem a fine man, and a good warrior,” Waryk said evenly. “Serve me, as you served Adin, and you’ll do well.”
“Thank you.”
“I give you fair warning, though. Touch her, and you’ll probably die.”
Ewan hesitated, his head down, then he looked at Waryk. “Sir, I’d not cause her trouble now. I love her very much, you see, and, therefore, would not hurt her in any way.”