Betrayed?Now Darlei’s eyes narrowed in an unconscious parody of his.
“I? Betray you?” It was he who had done that, giving her away at the orders of a presumptive king. “You have sold me into this marriage.”
His fingers twitched as if they longed to give her a slap. “It was not of my choosing, which I have told you time after time, but that of a higher power.”
“And who are we, to obey a Gaelic king?” she could not help but retort.
“We are Caledonians and proud with it. The queen is one of our own. She speaks into her husband’s ear. If we want a stake in this land, we must obey.” His eyes flashed. “Is a marriage good enough for a queen not also good enough for you?”
She had nothing to say to that.
Father lowered his voice. “I should give you a good hiding, daughter. Perhaps that is what is required to tame you. But I would not put marks upon you when you go to your new husband. It appears you have already gathered bruises enough.”
He turned and called over his shoulder to his men. “One of you, come and take this pony. Examine him for harm. The rest of you, back to the camping place.”
The dawning sun came out, slanting through the trees. Just like Darlei’s hopes of escape, the storm had faded into the distance.
*
It soon becameapparent that Darlei had done nothing but make things worse for herself. Not only was she bruised and battered with damaged clothing, but her father’s man had determined Bradh was too sorely injured to go on.
Darlei would be forced to ride in the wagon with Orle, or go on foot.
Ah well, she was acquainted with consequences. From an early age, if her parents were to be believed, she had been strongheaded. Often wrongheaded, going about her own escapades and pursuing her desires with little thought for any harm that might ensue. In the past she’d been punished with lack of privileges, confinement, and, from time to time, even physical admonishments. None of it had proven particularly effective.
No punishment could match this. Being forced to walk to meet her ill fate.
“Mistress Darlei, why do you not ride with me?” Orle called from the ponderous wagon that also carried their baggage. “It pains me to watch you.”
Darlei eyed her friend. To her knowledge, Orle had received none of her father’s ire; he apparently accepted she’d had no part in what Darlei had done. A mere serving girl could not be expected to curb the will of a princess when Father could not.
Darlei felt grateful for that. Bad enough to go to her doom without her pony, who should have remained at their destination with her. Unthinkable to go without Orle.
“I am fine,” she called back. A lie. She had bruises all down one side where her body had met the stones of the stream, and she must have landed first on her left shoulder, for it ached abominably. She did not want to admit it, though.
“Do not be foolish,” Orle called back in the guise of friend rather than servant. “Morgal,” she said to the young man who drove the cart, “please to stop so Princess Darlei can come aboard.”
An amiable young man, Morgal did so. Darlei scrambled up, at a cost in pain.
“Are you bleeding anywhere?” Orle asked while Morgal tried to pretend he could not hear.
“Nay.”
Darlei tried to get comfortable amid their various belongings. In addition to her possessions, the wagon also contained a small chest that held her marriage price.
Why she should have to pay a price while the unknown dog of a Gael toward whom she journeyed did not, she still failed to understand. All she knew was, the king had instituted the rules.
Or perhaps it had been the new queen.
Misery loved company, so it was said. As the queen had to wed with a Gael, so might she countenance dooming Darlei also.
“What happened?” Orle whispered. There had been no time for explanations when Father hauled Darlei back and she hastily changed her clothing. The men had been taking the tent down around them, almost.
Darlei shook her head. “It was an ill-fated venture.”
“Please tell me you will not try again.”
Darlei turned her head and looked into her friend’s eyes, beheld great concern.
