Her Warrior Captive by Michelle Willingham

Author:Michelle Willingham [Michelle Willingham]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Michelle Willingham
Published: 2022-11-03T00:00:00+00:00

He was beginning to realize that staying at Lismanagh was impossible. Though it had only been a month, he could not remain any longer. If he stayed, he would take Iseult to his bed. She got beneath his skin in a way no woman ever had, and his very presence endangered her.

She wanted him to defend her, to be her champion. Gods above, didn’t she know what she was asking?

He couldn’t save his own tribe. Why would it be any different with the Ó Falvey people? It was better if he left them alone.

A vision captured him, of the raiders taking Iseult. He pictured the men holding her down, and the thought made him want to sheathe his blade in their blood. A stinging sensation caught his attention. He’d been squeezing his knife so hard, the blade had cut into his thumb.

He didn’t need to get involved in this. He knew the way these men fought, and it would not be a fair battle. Those who were foolish enough to cling to tribal methods of fighting were going to die. And so would the innocents.

His gaze fell upon the wooden figure of his brother. Egan had been a victim, just as these folk would be. He closed his eyes.

Just leave. Don’t concern yourself with them.

The raid would provide the perfect opportunity to escape. No one would notice his absence, and by the time they discovered it, they would be unable to track him.

He threw together a bundle of provisions—a few packets of dried food, water, flint, and a knife. Just enough to survive.

We need you, Iseult had said. The pleading look upon her face took apart all of his reasons for leaving. Could he turn his back, letting harm befall her?

He already knew the answer. Damn her for bringing him into this. Cursing, he threw the provisions across the room. If he allowed the tribe to be slaughtered without raising a hand, it made him no better than a murderer himself.

He armed himself with the few knives he had, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. The ringfort was unguarded, unprepared for an attack. But Iseult had begged him to change that.

Outside, it was unnaturally quiet. The overcast sky had transformed, and a bright sun hung over the ringfort. Kieran crossed the distance to the gates. Orin and Muirne’s husband Hagen stood with spears gripped in their hands. The lad’s face was smeared with dirt, his eyes glassy as though he hadn’t slept. Frozen with fear, he was.

“Any word?” Kieran asked.

Orin shook his head. “Nothing. I don’t like it. Shouldn’t they be back by now?”

“It’s only been a few hours.” Kieran nodded to the small crowd staring outside the wall. “I’ve an idea to improve our defenses, Orin. If you wouldn’t mind, you could be a help to me.”

The lad brightened and then tried to mask his enthusiasm with maturity. “What can we do?”

“I’ll need oil. A barrel, if you can spare it.” Kieran met Hagen’s gaze. “And a few men to dig a trench.

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