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“As you say, my lord,” Fia said, eager to stay close to her husband. While some believed the mighty legendary Highlander was immune to death, she knew better.
They walked in silence to the keep, the village almost deserted, except for the few sentinels who patrolled. Worry marred their faces and fear lingered in their eyes.
“This puts a strain on my warriors. Where there is bravery, there is also fear. They would not be good men if fear did not touch them now and again.”
He thought of all the years he had not let fear touch him and in so doing he had let nothing touch him. He had little to no feelings. He did what he needed to do and did not let the consequences stop him, and he had seen victory after victory. And each victory had meant little to him. Even his title and the castle had brought him little pleasure until Fia brought it to life, brought him to life.
“You will not leave my side tonight,” Varrick ordered, fearful of losing her.
She hugged his arm she had wrapped hers around and keeping her voice low asked, “Will you keep me entertained, husband?”
He had smiled often of late as he did now, thanks to his wife’s playfulness, that was much needed at the moment.
“All night and then some,” he assured her.
“Oh dear.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked anxiously, though kept them walking.
“Your words got me wet.”
“Bloody hell, Fia,” he said, the slight arousal that had sparked in him at her teasing words springing him to life. “You cannot say things like that to me.”
She apologized quickly, seeing how she had upset him. “I am so sorry. I will not do it again.”
“Nay! Aye!” Bloody hell,” he mumbled. “Aye, you will do it again, but where no one can see my response.”
“See it?” She scrunched her brow, then it dawned on her what he meant, and she grinned. “Oh! Perhaps we should retire to our bedchamber for a while before supper.”
“On that I agree,” he said and rushed her into the keep.
* * *
“You look quite content, wife,”Varrick said as they had supper later that evening in the Great Hall.
Fia sighed softly. “Thanks to my husband who pleasures me beyond measure.”
Varrick lowered his head to whisper to her. “And your husband will pleasure you more later, but right now we sit before a room full of my warriors so you will behave.”
Fia cast a glance over the room and saw Argus approach, his hand gripping a tankard of ale.
He stopped in front of the dais. “It is good you invited the warriors here to sup. They are pleased and feeling less worrisome, especially the ones from distant posts. They were glad you ordered their return here.”
“Only fools would be out in this wind and cold,” Varrick said.
“Or the God of Death,” Argus whispered.
“I believe even he would avoid such cold,” Varrick argued.
The door suddenly blew open and a cold wind followed in from the other entrance and was soon felt. Two warriors hurried to help whoever was attempting to enter to close the outer door.
It was Brother Luke who made his way into the room, his hair windblown and his brown cloak dusted with snow.
“The wind attacks, whipping snow at you until you can barely see where you walk,” Brother Luke said as he shook his cloak to rid himself of the snow.
Argus raised his tankard. “Warm yourself with a tankard or two of ale, Brother Luke.
“I have no time for drink. I am here to speak with Lord Varrick.”
