“Aye, it must seem as if ye have been swallowed up by the earth itself. My brother should have at least sent your father word that ye were held here. I must assess your value however,” he added. He then watched her intently as he said, “There will be enough time before the ransoming is done for ye to turn your horse to my hand.”
“Nay, there will never be enough time for that.”
“Lass, I intend to have that horse.”
“Weel, ye just try but ye will gain no aid from me. Elfking is mine. He was born second in a twin birth and was weak and looked runty. He would have been left to die as such beasts are but I took him. I handfed him the mare’s milk his stronger sibling denied him and I raised him. He is mine and there is naught that will change that, not even the great Black Parlan himself,” she sneered.
“Ye have a knack for trying a man’s patience.”
“So it has been said.” She watched him as she ate some of her food.
Parlan leaned back in his chair. “So ye willnae help me to win the stallion’s favor.”
“Nay, I willnae help ye to steal my horse.” She thought the way he quirked his brow over one eye an impressive gesture then blushed and stared at her ale when barely-stifled laughter and Parlan’s grin told her she had spoken her thoughts aloud.
“Thank ye, mistress.”
“Ye are verra welcome,” she grumbled with a distinct lack of grace while wondering if she would ever learn to control her tongue.
“Ye do ken that I can keep the beast whether ye do as I ask or not.”
“Aye, but t’will gain ye naught. He will come to me as soon as he is able.”
“There are ways to secure even that brute.”
“But weel secured he will do ye little good as a mount.”
“Mayhaps, but he could still be put to stud. I would wager he has weel proven himself in that area.”
She thought about lying but knew the man would simply test the truth for himself. “Aye. He hasnae had a miss yet.” She could not restrain the impish twinkle that entered her eyes. “Another year or twa of letting Elfking do what comes naturally and I will be a rich woman.”
“Ye claim a fee?” Parlan asked in mild surprise.
“Do ye not if a man uses Raven for stud?”
“Aye, but”—he frowned—“payment went to Lachlan, did it not?”
“Nay. Elfking is mine. I take money or one of his offspring. The horse Leith was on is one of Elfking’s spawn.”
“Whose mare?”
“One of Alaistair MacVern’s.”
Parlan gave a soft whistle for the man was well known to have prime horseflesh. Then he chuckled to himself. It must have been a sore trial for the stiff-necked Alaistair to deal with a slip of a girl. That he did at all only verified Elfking’s worth.
“Then he could weel richen my purse,” Parlan observed, and met her glare with a smile.
“Aye, that he could but t’would be a waste to use such a fine horse for naught but that.”
“True but who is to say he will never turn to me? Given long enough away from ye and good care at my hands and the bond that ties him to ye could slowly weaken, even break.” He took careful note of the fear that briefly flashed in her eyes. “’Tis worth a chance.” He let her think on his words for a moment before drawling, “I may be willing to bargain.”
Her impulsive start of hope was quelled briefly by the strange glint in his eyes. “What sort of bargain?”
Leaning forward, he murmured, “Ye or your horse.”
Aimil frowned in confusion, wondering why the other men at the table were suddenly so quiet. “I dinnae understand.”
A slow smile touched his face as he traced the gentle curve of her face with one long finger. “Nay, ye truly dinnae. ’Tis astounding. I want your horse. I also want ye.” He smiled a little more when she blushed. “I willnae steal your horse if ye come to my bed.”
