The Hawk Laird (Celtic Hearts Book 1) by Susan King

Author:Susan King [King, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2024-02-24T00:00:00+00:00

At last the hawk sat quietly on her fist. Isobel shifted softly so as not to wake James, who dozed beside her after a long while spent convincing the hawk to calm down and accept the woman’s hand as another perch. Propping her left elbow on James’s arm, she watched Gawain. His eyes shone in the light of the brazier. He dipped his head to tuck it sleepily.

“Ho, bird,” she said into the quiet. Gawain lifted his head to look at her. “Ho, there. Jamie said to keep you awake. But then he fell asleep, which he needed to do,” she murmured. “Those were mighty bates you threw for us, Sir Gawain. I am impressed. How is your shoulder?”

She reached out with a fingertip and tickled his breast feathers as she had seen James do. The white and speckled gray feathers were divinely soft and warm underneath. Gawain chirred, and she felt the rapid vibration of his heart in his chest.

Not long ago, she had been surprised when, after a sequence of bates and another treatment of warm bread on his wing joint, Gawain had finally stepped onto Isobel’s offered fist. He behaved as if he had always done it, puffing his feathers and blinking at her calmly.

Recently, though, the bird had grown more restive, lifting his wings and flattening his feathers. The grip of his talons on her fist was stronger, and she sensed his increasing anxiety. Isobel plucked a bit of raw meat from the pouch James wore, laid it on her thumb, and watched the bird dip to eat it. All the while, she hoped he would not bate or try to foot her while she sat with him.

On impulse, she drew a breath and began to sing the kyrie. Although she lacked James’s gift for true notes, the sound was soft and serene as it echoed around the cave.

The bird cocked his head curiously. His eyelids came together like lightning flashes. He stilled.

Isobel smiled and looked over at James, who only shifted and tipped his head toward hers in his sleep. She rested her brow against his head, his hair a thick cushion, his breath gentle on her cheek.

“Oh, Jamie,” she whispered. “Look at our bonny gos. He has decided to trust both of us. And here you are asleep and did not even see it.”

Gawain roused his feathers, turning himself into a calm puffball, as if he was content. Isobel held the hawk, letting James sleep while she waited for dawn. As light began to stream through the cave entrance, she realized that she was a few steps away from freedom.

Beside her, James slept soundly, breaths long and full, body relaxed. He would not know if she rose, set the bird on a perch, and slipped out. She could be away to Wildshaw and Sir Ralph before he woke.

The morning light glowed like a pearl. If she was going to escape, she would have to do it now.

She eased her arm away from James. Gawain blinked and sat calmly despite the movement.

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