Hidden Jewel (Heartfire Series) (4 page)

Li'l Warriors

Not like that, lass. Head up, shoulders back.” The wide leather band tightened where it rested against the girl's sweat-damped forehead, the cool metal providing no relief as the long blade slid into place, flush against her spine. She groaned inwardly, a fleeting frown crossing her brow as she tried to stop the instant trembling in her legs with the unwieldiness of the heavy, overlong claymore, tried hard not to shift her feet in front of the others as the wide leather belt was cinched too tightly about her tiny waist.

“
Ye mun stand tall as ye are able, prideful in yer bearing, showing no emotion in yer face nor yer stance.
Don't
show the enemy any sign o' weakness... or he will be quick to take advantage.
Don't
bow down to any man, unless it is a means to an end. And don't ever,
ever
, give away yer true identity. Not even if ye are under threat of death. Now... What is the first law of a warrior?”

Unable to meet the giant man's speculative gaze, knowing that to do so would cause the sword blade to cut into her backside or the back of her head, Ailill stared straight ahead, ignoring the many eyes she knew had come to rest upon her these past few moments. “Do not commit bodily injury and/or death upon any known friend o' the Realm.”

“
And the second, third and fourth?”

“
Do not intentionally disrupt the harmony o' the homeland. Do not cause nor promote discord 'tween kith and kin. Consider all as yer equal until ye are proven otherwise.”

As she spoke, the man appeared to take a casual stroll back and forth before the rows of young would-be warriors, his hands clasped behind his broad back, head tilted to one side, listening to more than just the husky timbre of his tiny charge's voice. Despite the way it looked, his deep black gaze never left the lassie's face, the stubborn scowl that lent a fierceness to the diminutive child. Head and shoulders below even the youngest lad there, he'd nearly laughed aloud when she swayed under the massive height of his favorite sword, but that would not do. It was bad enough that she'd forced his hand, that he'd had to come up with a just punishment to teach the brawny wee thing a bit of humility. Sighing under his breath, muttering an oath, MacDuff stopped before the girl, bent down to peer into her eyes. He carefully ignored the dirt smudged on the tip of her small nose, the rivulets of muddy sweat burning her deeply hued eyes.

“
What is the tenth law, Ailill?” he asked quietly, unable to hide the light of amusement from his own eyes as hers lifted just enough to meet them. As he expected, the ever present spark of defiance was there, in that bright, ageless gaze.

“
Don't raid beasts from our own stables?” she said after a moments thought. The snickers that followed her answer brought a frown to her face, her gaze losing a bit of its heat as she realized she was now to be the butt of not a few jokes in the days to come.

“
Lads!
” he warned without batting an eye. “Ye do realize, Ailill, that you've broken every law you've spoken today, do ye not?”

“
Aye, m'laird.”

“
Do ye have aught to say for yer actions then?”

The stubborn refusal to give in was as plain as the wee nose on her face; those closest watched as a glazed look came into her eyes, her features set into barely concealed fury. “No, m'laird, I dinna have aught to say for my actions. But I do have plenty to say for
his
! In fact,” she added, her tone serious, not the least bit apologetic. “Just so we are clear, I would do it all again- give away my identity before beatin' the livin' hell out o' that abusive fiend! I would invoke the seventh law- Always accord an innocent the decency of retribution for crimes committed upon himself and his own, and the eighth- Never back down in battle- Fight to the death. I would do it all, m'laird, including this... mphm, this
ridiculous
form o' punishment! For I was right, no matter how ye look at it.”

A soft hiss slipped past the lips of a few lads standing at attention around the single girl, her bold comments causing more than one to stare openly at the giant of a man who'd been so patient thus far.

“
Ridiculous, is it?” At her sharp nod, he spun away, eyes raised skyward, as if seeking answers from the most ancient of the Gods as to how in hell he'd ever be able to teach such a lass as the wee Herself anything at all, for surely she had just proven how much more she possessed up-top than he ever would.

“
Lads, ye are dismissed. Go and find a bite to eat.
Now.
” MacDuff commanded softly before striding away.

Intentionally ignoring the sudden frantic whispers near her ear, Ailill forced her eyes closed, suddenly too aware of the sun beating down upon her head, the rumble of hunger speaking from her clockwork belly. She stood that way until the last reluctant steps faded away, until the sun took a downward turn and the air turned chill with the coming dark, refusing to apologize, to give into her own bodily needs and the exhaustion in her mind each time someone came to her throughout the long, punishing hours of reflection.

“
Och... stubborn lass, ye surely could have given way before now.”

The whispered reprimand fell on deaf ears, the sudden release as the leather bindings were cut away from around her waist and head barely noticed in limbs gone numb after so long. Strong arms caught her as gravity pulled her down, lifted her effortlessly. She uttered not a word, moaned softly only when cool water ran down her parched throat, taken away too soon, her ears buzzing with more than mere exhaustion, nearly missing a promise of more water soon; softspoken words of comfort. Within moments she was lying on cool sheets, her muscles screaming in relief, shaking as her arms and legs were moved hither and yon, stripped of the hindrance of sweat-soaked wool and leather.

A feminine voice moved in and out of range while strong fingers slid over her body, warm and sure, massaging the aching knots of tension out of each muscle with soothing strokes. Her eyes opened briefly as the promised water was at last dripped over her thirst-swollen tongue, her gaze settling on a pair of velvet-black eyes full of worry; the source of relief to her aching body, Tiernan was bent over her, intent on his task. Slipping easily into sleep, Ailill did not notice the door closing softly, nor the way the bed shifted and smooth arms wrapped about her beneath the sheet.

She noticed naught, until a hand roughly shook her from her dreams in the darkest hour of night, a familiar voice husking, soft urgency near her ear.

“
Wake up, Abby! 'Tis only a dream... a dream, lass-”

“
Nay, don't touch,” Ailill commanded roughly, shoving the comforting hands away, her eyes wide in the dark, still seeing those disturbing images. “Not a dream... the ravens, they are real... like you... not birds at all. Wounded, they are... close to the barrier, enough to draw me over.” Her pounding heart slowed a bit, her neck stinging where blood had been drawn  in the dream. Reaching, her hand found a glass of water on the night table, the cool liquid soothing as she swallowed in big gulps. When her thirst was slaked at last, she rolled toward the lad beside her, allowed him to take her hand in his own. With the other, her cool fingers lightly probed the now fading soreness near her jugular. Finding no wound, she forced her gaze to the boy beside her. Dark eyes scrutinized her piquant features, sharp with curiosity. One small tremor was the only clue that her words had spooked him, though by now he was surely used to her dreams.

“
Why are ye in my bed, Tiernan?” she quietly asked. “Usually it is I who slip in with you.”

“
I thought you'd have the nightmares again,” came the matter-of-fact reply. “Ye were verra...  out of sorts, when I brought ye up tonight.”

“
Aye? Well, Duffy willna be best pleased. He says ye are too old to be sharing a bed with me.” Her youth was evident in the almost plaintive tone. At ten, her body was already well formed, strong and sleek, slightly curved, the evidence of how she might look in just a few more years obvious to all, except the lad who'd been playmate and friend, partner in crime and confidant for the past six years.

“
I don't care Abby. I wouldn't leave ye to suffer nightmares caused by my father's unfair punishment, and he kens it. Besides,” he added, rolling to his side, leaning forward enough to plant a kiss atop her head, “Derval kens I'm here. She helped me to undress ye.”

Sniffing delicately, Ailill ran one small hand over her face, frowning over at the eyes glittering down at her through the shadows. “Ye should have wakened me long enough to bathe.” Her tone was a soft reprimand, though she was grateful for what he had done to help. Her best friend, her protector. She had a small inkling of what it had been like for him and her cousins to watch her endure the punishment she knew she'd earned. “I was filthy before I stood sweatin' in the hot sun all day. Now I fear I smell.”

“
Och, only like dirt and Abby,” he intoned in all seriousness after inhaling deeply through his nose. “You've never smelled like a normal person.” His comment was met with a soft giggle, a blatantly unladylike sniff near his chest.

“
Like you, ye mean?” Her teasing tone pleased him, and he tickled her neck just to hear her sweet laughter again. “Ye smell like you were the one strapped to MacDuff's giant sword all day,” she added, rolling away to dodge a light smack aimed at her bottom.

“
I stood nearby all day, waitin' for you to come to yer senses and at least apologize to Duffy, so aye, I probably do stink.”

“
Like a pig headed off to slaughter. Did you know that ye canna have a slaughter without laughter?”

She squealed when he grabbed her ankle, yanked her backwards and aimed two smacks where he'd missed earlier. “Wheesht lassie, you'll wake the castle!” he commanded, gently placing a hand over her smiling lips. His fingers smelled faintly of soap, sweet with the heather and honey used to make it.

“
I kent ye were there,” she admitted once he removed his hand. “Why do ye think I held out so  long?” On a sigh, she added, “I didn't want you to think me weak.”

“
Och... I don't think that, Abby. Far from it.” Slipping his arm about her waist, Tiernan drew her tiny body back against his chest like a wee soft spoon. “Why did ye do it?” At his whispered query, Ailill gave his fingers a gentle squeeze.

“
Because I had to, Tiernan. That new lad in the stables, Brody I think his name is, was abusing a yearling that I helped birth, and it wasn't the first time. I said something to him last week, because he was kicking a mare big with pregnancy. Ye know, the sorrel one carrying the twins. He's a cruel boy, and he didn't care a whit when I told him who I am and that those were my own horses; he threatened to take a switch to me if I didn't leave.”

Sucking air through his teeth, a soft hiss of displeasure, Tiernan's fingers clenched tighter around her own, protective. “Did he hurt you, Ailill?” he demanded in a whisper.

“
No. I didn't give him a chance. When he swung back with the switch, I hauled off and kicked him in the ballocks like you showed me. It wasn't my fault he got back up, and it wasn't my fault he's weak. I barely touched the stupid arse and he screamed like a lass that his arm was broken!”

“
Ye should have said something to MacDuff, or to one o' us.”

“
I tried, last week, and no one would listen to me. Not even you, Tiernan.” Knowing that she was right, he remained silent. “I was punished for protecting a beast from a beast and, like I told Duffy earlier, I would do it all again and still not be sorry.”