Chapter Twenty-nine The Falls of Culloch
Chapter Twenty-nine
The Falls of Culloch
Bridei watched Hea enter the broch. She did not look his way, did not even acknowledge his existence, but he watched her nonetheless. She knew he was looking in her direction; she was just pretending otherwise.
Life at Dundurn suited her, as he had known it would.
The long plaid skirt and fitted leather bodice clung to her curves, accentuating the ripeness of those breasts, the dip of her waist, and the flare of her hips.
Her auburn hair rippled in unruly waves over her shoulders, and her skin had tanned a little over the summer, bringing with it a smattering of freckles over her cheeks.
She was flushed, and Bridei wondered if she had caught the sun while working outdoors all morning.
He watched her greet one of the older women who resided in the broch. The speed with which Hea had learned their tongue did not surprise him; he had always known she was bright and too inquisitive to allow a language barrier to defeat her.
Hea now spent most of her days outside the broch, working alongside Modwen. He had heard that Hea had extended the healer’s garden, and now grew a variety of healing herbs. The weather had been warm, and it appeared she had a gift for cultivating plants.
Bridei watched Hea stop and exchange a few words with Una and Lora, who were mixing batter for honey oatcakes.
He was pleased to see how quickly the other women here had accepted her.
He had expected Una especially to shun her, but after the first few days in which Una watched Hea with suspicion, the woman had warmed toward her.
There was much industry inside the broch today, for the women were beginning preparations for Mid-Summer Fire.
The aroma of baking wafted through the space.
The longest day of the year was rapidly approaching.
Mid-Summer Fire was a celebration where his people gathered in a nearby forest glen and celebrated around a large bonfire, eating and drinking late into the night.
Bridei lifted his cup to his lips and took a sip of mead, his gaze tracking Hea as she finished talking to the servants and crossed to the raised platform where he sat.
“Good day, Lord Bridei,” she greeted him, moving toward the far end of the table where she usually sat.
“Greetings, Hea,” he replied before motioning to the empty space beside him. “Come sit near me.”
She frowned. “Doesn’t Heolstor usually sit there?”
He smiled. “He does, but since he’s late, you can take his place.”
She obeyed, although he caught the wariness on her face.
Disappointment swiftly followed by frustration flashed through him.
How much longer would she keep this up? Had he not treated her well since her arrival here?
True to his word, he had not laid a finger on her, even though some nights he had not been able to sleep for wanting her.
She was civil to him but kept her distance with a cool politeness that he was starting to find offensive.
Masking his reaction, he picked up a jug next to him. “Mead?”
“Aye, thank you.”
He poured her a cup and handed it to her. “I’ve seen little of you of late—how have things been going?”
“Well,” she said with a polite smile that infuriated him. “Yesterday, Modwen and I traveled out of the fort and visited some villages that needed a healer. I hadn’t realized this area was so populated.”
Bridei smiled. “It’s fertile land, folk live well here.”
She met his gaze. “They speak well of you and your father … you are much loved.”
This news pleased him and his smile widened. “They were suspicious of me at first when I returned from Bebbanburg—I think some folk worried I was merely Ecgfrith’s puppet. However, they soon learned differently.”
Hea nodded, taking this in. Silence stretched between them for a few moments before Bridei spoke once more. “You’ve worked hard of late. Tomorrow, you shall take a break—we’ll go on a ride.”
Hea put down her cup, tensing. “Really … where?”
“There’s a special place, around half a morning’s ride from here, I’d like you to see.”
“Modwen is busy at the moment … she needs me tomorrow.”
Bridei held her gaze. “She can spare you for one morning.”
Hea nodded, her lips thinning. Bridei sensed her reluctance but ignored it. He did not know what she was punishing him for, but he’d had enough. Perhaps if they spent some time together … alone … she would warm to him once more.
The day dawned bright and sunny, the perfect weather for a ride. However, Hea had been hoping for rain.
Anything to avoid spending time with Bridei.
She had done well over the past month, keeping relations between them polite but distant, but she sensed his frustration at the extent to which she managed to avoid him.
Her stomach fluttered as she mounted the shaggy chestnut pony he had chosen for her, while next to her Bridei swung up onto his bay stallion, Croí Cróga.
Braveheart—it was a good name for such a magnificent beast, she admitted.
Bridei gathered the reins and glanced over his shoulder at Hea, flashing her a smile that made the butterflies in her belly dance. “Ready?”
She nodded.
They rode out of the stable yard, through the great stone arch, and wound their way down the levels of Dundurn. It was the warmest day of the summer so far, and a sultry breeze feathered across Hea’s bare arms. The sky was an unblemished canvas of blue from one horizon to another.
Her pony’s furry ears flicked from side to side as it picked its way down the slope, for even at this early hour the fort bustled with activity.
Children were out feeding fowl and bringing in goats for milking.
Women worked outdoors, making the most of the balmy weather: bringing water up from the river below, hanging leather up to cure, and grinding grain for bread.
Unlike a month earlier, folk did not stare at her. Instead, some called out her name and waved. Despite the nerves churning on the inside, Hea forced a smile and waved back.
Bridei reined Croí Cróga back so that Hea drew level with him. “You’re popular,” he noted with a grin. “Even Heolstor took longer to settle in here.”
Hea’s mouth quirked. She imagined the folk of Dundurn would not have known what to make of the hulking, flame-haired man from the south. Many would have been frightened of him. “I’m less intimidating than Heolstor,” she pointed out. “Plus, I spend my days helping these people.”
Bridei shrugged. “Even so, few newcomers here have been welcomed so quickly.”
They rode out of the fort, past the company of men guarding the main entrance, and across the wooden bridge leading into the valley below. Once they reached the road that led east, Bridei urged his stallion into a brisk canter. Hea followed suit.
She had not wanted to come on this ride, yet now that she had Hea felt her mood brighten.
A smile spread across her face as she followed Bridei east, through an unfolding landscape of emerald hills interspersed with dark-green pine woods.
They rode along the northern bank of the River Earn.
The crystalline waters glittered in the morning sun, and Hea inhaled the scent of grass and sun-warmed earth.
It was too beautiful a morning not to smile.
They spoke little during the journey, mostly because Croí Cróga’s longer gait made it difficult for them to ride side-by-side.
Hea’s pony made a valiant effort to keep up, but the stallion kept drawing ahead.
After a while, the road veered south, crossed the burn, and entered woodland.
Dark pine grew next to thickets of lacy birch and the air was rich with the scent of pine resin.
A short distance in, the road—which had narrowed to a forest path—forked.
Bridei took the right fork, glancing back over his shoulder at Hea as he did so.
Their gazes met, and he flashed her a smile. “Not much longer.”
Hea did not mind; she was enjoying being outside with the morning sun bathing her skin, the wind in her hair. As much as she enjoyed helping Modwen with her patients, Hea relished this morning’s freedom. Not only that, but while they were riding, she and Bridei avoided conversation.
She followed him through the woods to the sound of bird song.
The land grew hillier, and the path wound its way down into a valley and then up the other side, weaving between granite boulders that thrust out of the damp, peaty earth.
As they climbed higher, the sound of rushing water greeted them—and a few moments later the pair rode out onto a wide ledge that commanded a view over the jade carpet of woodland below.
A waterfall welcomed the pair, a cascade thundering down the cliff-face and foaming into a deep blue pool at the base. The falls cast a veil of moisture around them, a light spindrift that settled over Hea’s heated skin in a cooling mist.
Enchanted, Hea gazed around her. “What is this place?”
Bridei swung down from his stallion. “The Falls of Culloch. It’s a sacred place for my people.”
Hea dismounted, leading her pony over to where Bridei was tying up Croí Cróga on the far edge of the falls. “Why is it sacred?”
He smiled. “It’s said the Fair Folk come here sometimes—that the pools are blessed.”
Hea glanced around, taking in the tranquility of the spot.
Since arriving in Dundurn, she had learned much about the Pict way of life.
It reminded her of the old ways of her own people—back when Woden, Thunor, Freya, and their kin were widely worshipped.
Before the Christian god pushed them out.
Hea had learned that the Picts had a god for each season of the year; summer belonged to The Warrior—god of battle, life, and growth.
She had also discovered that they believed in the Fair Folk, a fairy people who were said to be both wondrous and dangerous.
A collection of large, flat rocks surrounded the wide pool, and Bridei climbed up onto one. He crossed his legs with loose-limbed grace. “This is where I come when I need to be alone, to think.”
She climbed up next to him, upon the sun-warmed rock, and folded her legs up under her. “I can see why. It’s magical.”
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, and for the first time in months, Hea felt her limbs relax. The sun beat down upon the sheltered spot, and the roar of the falls had a lulling effect upon her. She could have lain down and fallen asleep.
However, as the silence stretched on, she became aware of Bridei’s gaze upon her, devouring her.
Pulse quickening, she turned her head and met his eye. “Why are you staring at me?” she asked, hating the slight tremor in her voice that betrayed her nervousness.
Bridei’s mouth curved. “Because you’re beautiful … and because I wish to understand you.”
Hea’s breathing caught. She wished he would not look at her with those melting eyes, that expression of barely contained hunger. It made it difficult to draw breath, to concentrate on anything but the sensual curves of his mouth.
“There’s nothing to understand,” she breathed.
“There’s a well of secrets within you, Hea … and I intend to discover them.”
Panic reared up within her. He did not know what he was saying—some secrets were best kept buried. He would not look at her that way if he knew the truth.
“I can’t give you what you seek,” she whispered. “I can’t—”
But then Bridei moved, reaching for her so fast that the words choked off midsentence. A heartbeat later she was crushed up against his chest, and his mouth was on hers.