Page 20 of The Shipwreck
A strange shiver ran up Brandr’s spine.He glanced at the jeweled sword in the corner.Could the story be true?Pictish women were said to be able to handle a blade.But couldshepossibly be the intrepid swordswoman in the story?Surely not.Surely the tale was a work of imagination.After all, the heroine of her story had become a landed heiress.This woman lived in a humble hovel.
“Did she live happily ever after, Mama?”
There was a hesitation.“Oh, I’m sure she did.”
“Mama,” Kimbery announced, “I want a sword.”
“Youhavea sword.”
Brandr raised a brow.The little girl had a sword?
“Not a wooden sword.Arealsword,” Kimbery said.
“When you’re older.”
“And I want brothers to fight with,” she added.
“That I can’t promise you.”
“I want to be a warrior just like the lady in the story.”
Her mother chuckled.“You’ll be twice as good as the lady in the story.”
“Mama, can we practice sparring?”
“Tomorrow,” she promised, “but only if you get a good night’s rest.”
After she finished tucking in her daughter, the woman emerged again.Brandr quickly sized her up and decided the story couldn’t be true.She might be able to wield a blade, but no sweet-faced maid could possibly vanquish four seasoned warriors.
Chapter 6
The next morning, Brandr woke with a face full of sheep.He sputtered and reared back as far as he could, which wasn’t far, since he was on a short leash.
“Caimbeul likes you,” Kimbery informed him.
He grimaced as the smell of the ewe hit him full force.“Gah!”
“Don’t you like her?”she asked.
He blinked the sleep from his eyes.The little girl had obeyed her mother—she was staying out of his reach—but she was holding the sheep on a rope and letting it nuzzle him with its crooked mouth.
“Shouldn’t she be outside?”he whispered.
“Shh.Don’t tell Mama.She doesn’t like when I—”
“Kimmie,” came a sleepy voice from the bedchamber.“Who are you talking to?”
“Nobody.”
There was a sudden thrash of linens and the woman rushed into the room, a warning ring in her voice as she came.“You’d better not be going near that Vi-…” When she saw that Kimbery was safe, the anxiety deserted her eyes.Then she saw the ewe.“How did that sheep get in here?”
Kimbery shrugged.“Caimbeul wanted to see my da.I’m going to put her back.”
“I’ve told you a hundred times, Kimmie, sheep don’t belong in the house.And he’s not your da.Now if you don’t take that animal out of here this instant…”
Brandr grew deaf to her scolding as he took note of the woman’s attire.By Odin, she was clad in little more than a sheer linen shift, rumpled from sleep.One side had slipped down, exposing the smooth, round cap of her shoulder.There she had a blue tattoo like those engraved on Pict warriors.It was an intriguing three-looped knot that had no beginning or end.Her hair was mussed in a careless way that reminded him of long nights tussling in bed.Her feet were deliciously bare, and her frayed shift revealed the supple curve of her calf and her ankle, which also bore an inked design, this one in the shape of a broken sword.But it was her mouth that was the most alluring.He remembered that mouth now.He’d kissed her, and her lips had been as sweet and soft as wild blackberries.
His loins tightened, and guilt made him grind his teeth against desire.But willing it away didn’t make it disappear, and while the woman continued to herd the sheep and her daughter out of the cottage, Brandr fought to keep his thoughts on survival, escape, anything but the beautiful, feminine silhouette revealed by the dawning sun as she opened the door.
