Rescued by the Celtic Warrior by Amy Jarecki

Author:Amy Jarecki
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Medieval
Published: 2014-10-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

The sun had nearly vanished when they came upon a roundhouse that appeared to be abandoned. Taran and Greum rode around the structure, looking for clues of any recent inhabitants and found none. Regardless, Taran dismounted, drew his sword and pounded on the door.

Slowly opening it, he paused to let his eyes adjust to the dim light before he stepped inside. “Hello? We come in peace.” With no response, he took a turn around the creaking wooden floor and found nothing but a wooden chair. However, the hovel had a sound stone hearth and a thatched roof through that showed little daylight.

He beckoned the others. “The place is empty. It will provide good shelter for the night.”

Seumas helped Pia dismount.

“We’ll fetch some firewood,” she said.

Valeria’s fists flew to her hips as she watched them head into the forest. “Stay close to the house, you could run into a pack of wolves or worse.”

Taran noted the sarcasm in her voice. “Leave them be. How often have ye seen her happy?”

“She’s happy all the time.”

“But have ye ever seen a man look her way?”

“No, of course not. She’s my slave.”

Cringing, Taran pulled the saddle off his horse. “Ye believe in human bondage?”

She stomped a dainty foot. “ʼTis not like that with Pia.”

“No? Is that how she feels about it?”

Valeria said nothing, her mouth gaping while she watched him haul his saddle into the house. Taran ground his back molars. If Valeria were to commit to being a Pict, her acceptance of slave ownership must be resolved. She had a kind heart but had lived her entire life with a double standard. He wanted her to understand what life was like from Pia’s point of view. He recalled the night when Pia leaned forward and told him she was a slave. She hadn’t been too chipper about it at the time.

The floorboards barely made a sound when Valeria slipped into the house. Taran busied himself checking the food in his saddlebags while she watched from a few feet away. He could sense her eyes boring into his back. When he faced her, turmoil simmered in the intensity of her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” She sighed, those obsidian eyes making his insides twist in knots. “ʼTis not that Pia is a slave that has me incensed. ʼTis just she watches my every move, telling me what is proper and what is not. Seeing her wander off with Seumas strikes a nerve.”

At last, a breakthrough. He stepped toward her. “And how do ye feel when ye’re in the clover with the likes of me?”

“That is completely different.”

“Is it?” Taran cupped her lovely face in his hands. “Are they not flesh-and-blood souls like us?”

Before she had a chance to respond, he pressed his lips to hers.

Greum cleared his throat from across the room.

Valeria quickly pulled away. “Taran, I need to check your wound and Stag’s as well.”

He swallowed and sat on the lone chair. He liked it when she spoke his name; her Roman accent rolled the r slightly, like nothing he’d ever heard before.

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