Page 98 of Bound to a Warrior
Duncan eased his hand out of hers and refilled his tankard. He didn’t trust himself to speak. How Mercy’s mother had discovered the secret symbol and words known only to the true king, and those few known to him since he was young, astounded him.
She could have only learned them from one in the inner circle. But who? Who would betray the true king? And why to this woman?
“I had forgotten that, but then everything had been done in such haste and confusion. I was sitting looking over a piece of hide with drawings on it I had found in mother’s sewing basket when I went looking for thread and needle in her sitting room. That’s where mother found me when she had rushed into the cottage and told me that we were leaving right there and then. We had not a moment to waste.”
“A piece of hide with drawings on it?” Duncan asked.
“Yes. It was strange and old. Mother grabbed it from me and threw it into the hearth. The flames consumed it with haste.”
“Do you remember the drawings?”
“No,” she said and reached for an apple.
Duncan turned silent. He was sure the old piece of hide was where it had always been, safely tucked away in a chest in the solar. But she had called the hide strange and old and that was always how he and his brothers referred to it.
“You have asked me many questions and I have answered them. Now it’s my turn,” Mercy said.
“Ask,” he said and fought the urge to go see if the piece of hide was where it had always been.
“Why do the soldiers not attack?”
“We outnumber them and they know it. Besides the king to the north holds no favor for your father and would send his sizable forces to help us.”
“But he had accepted my father as ruling king.”
“He had no choice. Your father claimed the ruling throne and there was nothing he could do unless he declared war and shed his clansmen’s blood. He did what many chose to do. Wait for the true king to appear and claim his rightful title.”
“You fight for the true king?”
“Aye, I do.”
“This land,” she said. “Who does it belong to?”
“I am told the true king of Scotland. It is here the warriors are trained and made ready for battle.”
Mercy stared at him, her eyes turning wide. “And you brought the daughter of the present king to the true king’s stronghold?”
“No. I brought the woman I love there.”
He hadn’t expected complete silence from her. She seemed to freeze, and he had to admit he hadn’t planned to blurt it out like that, or admit it just yet. But for some insane reason, it had simply spilled from his lips.
It seemed that the more they had talked, the more he felt her slipping away from him and he wouldn’t have it. He wouldn’t lose her, he couldn’t. He loved her, loved her beyond any reasonable breath of sanity.
“Say something,” he demanded.
“I know you love,” she said softly. “And I love you. I never doubted that we loved each other even though we never spoke the words. It took me a moment to realize that you actually spoke them aloud. I usually hear you say them in my thoughts and dreams, and so hearing you say it aloud shocked me.”
He smiled. “I shocked myself.”
“Why did you choose to tell me now?” she asked reaching her hand across the table to him.
He quickly took hold of it. It fitted so comfortably, so right as it always did, as if the heavens had crafted them that way.
“With all that has happened between us and all that is yet to come, I didn’t want to waste a moment. I wanted you to know how I felt. How I would always feel about you.” He grinned. “You stole my heart.”
She laughed softly. “No. You gave it to me as I gave you mine.”
He stood, though didn’t let go of her hand and walked around the table. He lifted her in his arms, kissing her, and then walked to the bed. He placed her down, covering her with his body.
