Chapter 26 #2
Somehow the enemy’s cheeks turned a shade brighter than embers in the hearth.
It must have been the intimate gesture on Keirah’s part toward kissing him.
“Lord Kollungr’s mind raced wild in an odd sort of way when she escaped; he will crush anything in his way to recapture her fate back into his grasp.
” Sturan’s final warning about the Northman’s fixation on her echoed.
Sturan was right. The raw emotion from this was directly before him.
His arm came about her waist to hold her closer, with his fist tightening on the hilt.
Just try it, Northman, and see the outcome.
“No detail has escaped me, Scotsman.” He ground out the words between clenched teeth. “The list is long, beginning with you taking her to your bed thus crushing her element as a fate-seer after stealing her from my grasp.”
No, it was more than a fate-seer. The Northman meant to have her for his own as a Scotswoman.
It was obvious why; Keirah had a way in her manner.
Could he describe it? There were certain things in life this way, like trying to understand why the dawn appeared each day or how the winter gave way to warm spring.
Certain elements held a quality to them, and this was her.
This was shown to those around her, from challenging Sir Brayden to conquer his fears thus winning Lady Maise’s hand, to Callum bearing the first smiles he had seen in years at the archery lessons, to even the newly met Edina with whom, without hesitation, Keirah had cast aside formalities, taking a knee, engaging with the wee lassie when most ladies in the king’s court would laugh at getting such a tiny token as a lone flower.
It drew others toward her, just as he had been, and the portrait in possessive rage before him showed the Northman was no exception.
However, Kollungr had forced it in the darkest of ways to see it so, but not for long.
“He did not steal me, Lord Kollungr,” she declared, lifting her chin defiantly. “’Twas I who fled!”
“You?” His laugh sounded more like a snake’s hiss than a man’s.
“Your graceful prowess is beyond compare!” He mocked her clumsiness, but the expression turned toward demonic in a blink.
“Yes, you fled, my Keirah, but the journey would have been a mere trifle in length. A failure was the only outcome till this Scotsman appeared to steal you away into the night.”
Aonghus’s palm tightened about her when her delicate chin lowered, appearing shameful.
“A lord of your station one would consider should be sharp in mind. Yet, a witless fool appears before me at the daft declaration. You believe my lady holds nae her abilities in her will for survival? Northman, mere moments upon Scottish soil she broke free from your sweated fist after all the years in Norway,” he retorted, pissed.
Her chin raised again. Good. He added, “Forthwith, ’tis Lady Keirah, not your Keirah.
” Lord Kollungr’s lips pursed at the bushy beard’s center.
Kollungr is growing agitated – even better.
Press more. “My lady harnessed elements in tactical deception when you and your ‘pack’ of Northern hunters foolishly charged blindly into an empty cavern. Tell me, Lord Kollungr, do you believe this offers a glimmer of her ‘graceful prowess’ or is it an example of your witless demeanor?”
Aonghus met Lord Kollungr’s eyes to find them burning with rage. Right back at you, swine shite.
Interesting – perhaps his lady was onto something; death right at the get-go with him snapping the Northman’s neck was too simple. Making Lord Kollungr enraged, with no means for a violent release given they were all obviously here for the discussions on each king’s behalf, was the path to choose.
Lord Kollungr replied darkly. “Sir Aonghus, Torsten has declared you yearn to hunt me the way you slayed my warrior, Rune.” At the steel’s glint flashing from under the Northman’s bearskin Aonghus’s grip tightened protectively on Keirah.
“Scotsman, you left this on Sv?rn’s shield the night you took her from me.
You will need it in your endeavor to keep her. ”
Crack! Kollungr tossed down the double-sided axe onto the floor between them.
Lord Kollungr raised his arms. “I am directly before you, Scotsman, weapon offered; ’tis the time to see the deed done – or has that defiant Highland spirit taken a cowardly leave?” He was baiting him to attack.
There on the floorboards was his father’s axe, Vengeance.
Determined not to take the challenge and smear the promise made to Keirah, he heard Lord Kollungr taunt further: “You make certain the axe remains in your hand for the time when I am not so” – he paused to finish in a rasp of threat – “agreeable.” Kollungr placed his attention back on Keirah to say in cloaked meaning, “You remember, do you not, my lady, when this was not the case?” What was the arsehole referring to?
A tiny voice replied, “Aye.”
“However” – Lord Kollungr gave the words with a large sigh – “this is rarely the circumstance.” The tormentor cocked his head to one side and said with a nasty grin, “I must say, marriage shines on you, my lady. A bloom in your features I have not seen since the time of your bare moonlit swim in the fjord at my command when I was in a less ‘agreeable’ time. Tell me, Scotsman, does she still blush upon her breasts when flustered?”
No! Death will not wait! In two steps, he swept Vengeance by the handle with a full rip by his shoulder.
The sadist’s skull will journey back to hell!
Snarling a curse in Gaelic, his foot surged forward the same second Keirah grasped his arm like an iron cuff and Sir Brayden pounded on the door; being unsecured, the oak timber popped open and the friend declared, “Sir Aonghus, our lord king summons you both to the throne room! The High Steward of Scotland has declared the delegation has already arrived and…” The words died in Sir Brayden’s throat when he spotted Lord Kollungr alongside the volatile scene before him.
“Ahhh, your lord king.” Lord Kollungr strung out the words, poison lining each letter toward Keirah, who continued her fierce grip on Aonghus’s arm. “Forever seeking the grand Alexander. Your wish is granted, my lady, you are finally at his side.”
“You know I never swore an oath to King H?konsson, nor shall I – ever,” she retorted, anger raising her tone. “You have and would be well served to hold your tongue and your place, or shall I summon a bishop who has traveled by your side here?”
Aonghus saw a veiled glimmer of shock take the opponent’s eyes before they turned into ice again.
He held steady as Keirah gained strength by challenging him further in a cloaked meaning: “The bishops – you recall them, do you not, Lord Kollungr? Pray tell, who has traveled with you at King H?konsson’s order?
Henry of Orkney or Gilbert of Hamar? You truly must think me a fool if you would have me believe that your lord king would send you all alone on such a mission of supreme delicacy.
” Silence, with the exception of a snap from the peat brick, sounded the room.
She took a step forward, her shoulders square and chin high.
“You have an issue with your reply, Lord Kollungr? Or has your tongue been clipped alongside your wings, my Fálki?”
The Falcon plastered a false smile upon his face to nod, then twisted the topic while he headed for the door.
“You are too eager as always, my lady, the same as my lord king. I am simply returning the weapon your pretty lad left behind.” He strode past them then paused by the door Sir Brayden grasped open.
With one last look at Aonghus, he tossed a final threat like brimstone upon hell at Keirah: “Enjoy the time with your Scotsman.”