Forever Her Champion Read Online Free PDF

little girl, Rianna knew very little about politics or kings. But she knew enough to find his jest humorous and to let loose with her first belly laugh in an age. There was no great love for their current king, James III.
    Thus began a friendship between two lonely children.
    Less than a year later, Rianna would run through the rainy streets of Ardanaiseig , sobbing uncontrollably. They were moving yet again.
    “Aiden!” she had cried when she reached the door to his hut. Pounding as hard as she could, she cried out for him. “Aiden!”
    When he finally opened the door, his eye was swollen shut behind a hideous dark purple bruise. Momentarily forgetting her own pain, she asked him what had happened, even though she already knew the answer. His father had been angry and drunk again and, as the mean old man was oft want to do, he took his anger out on his only son.
    “Are ye well?” she asked him, knowing in advance that he would not admit to being in any pain.
    “Aye,” he answered quietly before stepping outside. “Why are ye cryin?”
    Sniffling, she wiped away her tears. “We be movin’ again,” she told him.
    Rianna was forced back to the here and now when an exceedingly intoxicated man stepped out of the tavern. Apparently unable to see her through his whisky-induced stupor, he stumbled into her.
    With slurred words, he asked if she might like to take a tumble in the stables. Rolling her eyes, she ignored his ribald remark and began to pursue Aiden Macgullane

    * * *
    A s far as plans went , it was not necessarily a bad one. With a mother such as Ronna Coultier, Rianna had learned early on how to save her own hide, as well as her mother’s, on multiple occasions.
    In a narrow and dank alley away from the center of town, she prepared her speech, affected an accent that belied her upbringing, and carefully placed a rolled blanket under her dress to give the appearance she was with child. Next, she donned a white kerchief to use as a kerch to give more credence to the roll she would play: Aiden Macgullane’s poor and bereft wife.
    Believing she was as ready as she would ever be, she set out for the goal. Her stomach continued to growl with hunger and, for once, she was glad for the feeling. It would help lend credence to her role.
    The goal sat near the center of town, an ancient building made of dark gray stone that seemed to scream of depression, fear, and heartache. Taking a deep breath, Rianna lifted the latch and stepped inside.
    ’Twas just as dark and dreary as she had imagined. A cold brazier sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by squat little stools. Ahead of the brazier, behind a narrow, dilapidated table sat a middle-aged man with long dark hair. Assuming he was the sheriff, Rianna painted a pitiful look upon her face before approaching him.
    “Are ye the sheriff? I be Rianna Macgullane, wife of Aiden Macgullane. I’ve been told ye have him here, that ye just brought him from the Boar’s Head Tavern for public drunkenness and lord only kens what else.” She spoke quickly, giving him no time to respond or ask a question of his own. The more she spoke, the more perplexed he appeared, just as she had hoped he would. “He be a blonde man, with blue eyes and a wont for drinkin’ and fightin’.”
    “Lass,” he said when she finally paused to take a breath, “what on earth are ye ramblin’ on about?” A crease had formed on his brow, his lips drawn into a hard, thin line.
    “I be talkin’ about me husband,” she said, affecting the image of a poor and submissive woman.
    The sheriff was growing impatient with her. “And who might yer husband be?”
    “Aiden. Aiden Macgullane,” she replied demurely. “I was told ye brought him here this morn, fer fightin’ at the Boar’s Head.”
    Sudden awareness set in; she could see it in his expression. “Aye, we did. As drunk as the day is long and just as angry,” the sheriff replied as a deep scowl began to form. “He’s been arrested