She relaxed just a little and sniffed. “You’ll find my uncle?”
“Aye, of course we will. Namet will have sent out a search party already. My men are excellent trackers. They will find him. How far could one old man have gotten?” His eyes narrowed just a little. “Unless, of course, he had help…”
“I. Am. Not. A. Spy!”
He ignored her. “You will be free to attend the celebrations tonight. Your every move will be watched, of course, and anyone you speak to is beholden to tell me every word. There will be no chance of escape. Understand that. If you try, you will be killed.”
“Sounds like a great time”, she muttered under her breath.
In the end, it actually wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be.
It was the evening of Beltane, and Bridei was determined to forget his problems for a few hours and enjoy himself, though it wasn’t an easy thing. The most important battle of his life was looming in the near future. Failure would mean nothing less than the loss of most of his ancestral lands to the South, and the continued exploitation of the Pictish people who called them home. He could not—would not—let that happen. Then there was the troublesome woman that had appeared in their midst with no worthy explanation. Namet and a team of his most trusted men had finished questioning every man, woman and child in Tallorc and its surrounding villages. No one had ever seen her before or even heard her name.
There was also the matter of her strange speech and dress. He had no idea what to make of it, and that bothered him deeply. The man she had travelled with was still missing, even though his best trackers had been combing every inch of the area for hours. This left Bridei no choice but to send men riding to the south to try to intercept him in case he was returning to Ecgfrith. And to top it all off, his closest friend and companion was so smitten with a woman that his company, usually a welcome distraction, now bordered on aggravation.
Domech had his new wife by the waist, and he leaned over to whisper something to her before slapping her behind as she went off to join a group of women who were preparing for the ceremonial dance. Then,finally, he turned his attention to his life-long friend. Bridei knew that his gaze had been hovering in one place for some time, and he also knew Domech would notice and tease him.Let him; he had too much on his mind to be overly troubled by it.
“You certainly show a lot of interest in her, for suspecting her of treachery and spying.”
Bridei scoffed. “Of course I show interest in her, she is a stranger here, and needs to be watched. I’ve freed her for tonight to see what she will do. Questioning her was going nowhere, but if she makes a move against me, however small, I will know. There are no less than twenty men and women keeping a close eye on her even now.”
Domech snorted in return. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You look at her withhunger. The kind of hunger a man has for a woman he wants in his bed.”
Bridei shrugged, not willing to admit that having Nessa in his bed was nearly theonlything he had been able to think about all day. “Perhaps”, he conceded. “Sheisbeautiful, what man wouldn’t have such thoughts?”
Domech smirked conspiratorially, poking Bride in the arm. “Bed her then, if she’s willing. What harm could it do?”
“You know I can’t, and I won’t. Besides, she says she is promised.”
“Promised to who? Certainly no one that’s here to notice.”
“A man from the North, I suppose. What does it matter?” Bridei knew his temper was running short, and he didn’t want to talk about Nessa and whatever man she may or may not belong to. He found he didn’t really like to think of her with a man at all. She was too beautiful, too strong, too fiery, to belong to someone that didn’t deserve her. If she wasn’t a spy, of course. If she was, then all that was null and she deserved naught more than a slow death at his hands. His stomach clenched painfully at the thought. Gods. Was he growing weak? Was the thought of killing an enemy suddenly so distasteful to him? He steeled himself. He couldn’t let that happen. The moment he allowed mercy for an enemy into his heart was the moment he was no longer fit to lead his people.
His gaze returned to where Nessa now sat with Meara on a grassy rise near one of the smaller fires. She was staring wide eyed at a couple twining together in passion on the ground not ten feet from her. She looked as if she had never seen such a thing before. Maybe it was only a trick of the firelight and the final glow of the setting sun, but she looked flushed and a little breathless, and everything in him wanted to go over there and kiss her until she was even more flushed, and could barely breathe at all.
Domech laughed and slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “You’re in a bad way, my friend. I’m going to find my woman, I’ve already been apart from her too long. Unless you want me to stay and keep you company in your misery?”
“Go!” Bridei growled, shoving him in the chest to make sure he got his point across. As usual, as soon as Domech left, the women moved in on the now solitary king. It was just the way of things. He sighed. He usually enjoyed the attention, but not tonight. Not these women. They were too coy and too eager to please. They obeyed his every command without question. Something had changed in him and he didn’t know exactly what it was, just that what they offered was no longerenough. Maybe it was only that the anticipation of the coming battle had engaged his mind elsewhere. After all, what woman’s charms could compare to the thrill of taking Ecgfrith’s head from his shoulders?
Asshe tried not to stare and tried not to blush, Nessa realized that although she knew their language and much of their history, her knowledge of these people lacked the richness and fullness of everyday life. Sometimes, when she had read the ancient texts that were part of her schooling, she had wondered about the little things, like whether people shook hands when meeting, or hugged when they hadn’t seen each other in a while. And kissing. There were several words in Pictish for “kiss”, but what did that really mean? Did people kiss romantically, and with tongues? Now she knew. They most definitely did. It was hard not to openly stare at the several couples who had obviously already progressed past kissing and whose joined bodies were quite visible in front of the brightly burning fire. These people were certainly not bashful about their sexuality. It was apparently not considered unnatural or taboo to give and receive physical pleasure.
“Does it make you shy? Seeing others sharing their bodies?” Meara asked her with a little smile.
“I’m just not used to it. I mean seeing it so close.” On television or in the movies, sure, but this wasnotthe same. The culture she had lived in all her life was much different in this regard. “My people are more…private with such things.”
And it did make her a little uncomfortable; not because she was in any way prudish, but because it was making her heart beat faster. The uninhibited show of lust and pleasure which seemed to be so natural here was something that had been long lost in the 21stcentury. She found it arousing, not just sexually, but spiritually as well. To be so free felt like such a natural thing. To make love without the inherent guilt and inhibition; it must be amazing. Her own eyes darted, without her permission, to Bridei.
The King was surrounded by at least six women, all apparently vying for his attention. Something that felt oddly like jealousy twisted in her stomach, but Nessa ignored it as best she could. He was beautiful to look at, she’d give him that, and certainly intimidating, but she certainly didn’twanthim.At least not when she was thinking straight. She only wanted Nathan, and to go home.
Meara followed her glance and sighed wistfully. “Look at them, they are all so hopeful, but so foolish. Someday soon the King will have to produce a son or daughter. Though it is more likely he’ll eventually chose a bride from a neighboring kingdom in order to secure a strong ally, they still try to catch his eye. But they are nothing to a king whose ambition to unite the Picts runs so hot and strong. He will never see them as any more than a body to warm his bed, though even then he is terribly choosey.”
She shook her head as if his choosiness was a travesty, but her bold words made Nessa squirm; it seemed like an awfully personal thing to say about anyone, especially a respected leader. She had to keep reminding herself that she was in a very different time and place, and her own cultural sensibilities were in effect null and void. In fact, her culture didn’t even exist yet.
“Why are you telling me this?”
Meara shrugged. “It’s no secret.”
Apparently, Nessa also needed to get over her own bias of what constituted polite conversation.
