Surrender to an Irish Warrior Read Online Free PDF

Barra, the destrier that he’d paid a damned fortune for. The black horse was nervous from the smoke, prancing his feet. If the Lochlannach thief didn’t control Barra, he’d find himself on his backside.
    Though Trahern wanted to attack the two men and regain his horse, logic forced him to hold back. He needed answers, and these men would lead him to them.
    Within a few more minutes, the Vikings left the settlement and rode west. Trahern was torn between following them or entering the cashel to search for Jilleen Ó Reilly. Though he believed they’d taken her, he couldn’t be certain.
    He cast a backward glance at the men before racing inside the cashel . Heavy smoke choked the air in his lungs, and heat blazed from the burning hut. He had only a few moments to spare before he had to follow the men.
    Fate blessed him, for near the outer gate lay one of the shoes he’d given to Jilleen. Whether the girl had dropped it on purpose or whether she’d lost it didn’t matter. It confirmed that she was here. And he knew who’d taken her.
    His fist curled around his sword hilt. The Lochlannach would answer for this.
    Trahern picked up the shoe and ran back to the trail, running behind the men. He found a second shoe only a mile further, on the same path travelled by the riders.
    When he reached the top of the next hill, he dropped low to study the men. They were travelling towards the Viking settlement along the coast. He’d seen it before, but knew he couldn’t make it there by nightfall, not without a horse.
    He cursed, for he had no alternative except to turn back. He needed to borrow a mount from the monks.
    Frustration shredded his patience, and he began the walk back to the abbey. Donning his own shoes once more, he imagined exactly how he would break through the Viking forces.
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    The abbot granted Morren the hospitality of St Michael’s, and an older monk, Brother Chrysoganus, led her to the guest house adjoining the monastery. He offered her a kindly smile and began filling a basin with water. When Morren realised he meant to bathe her feet as a gesture of welcome, she interrupted.
    â€˜Forgive me, Brother Chrysoganus, but I would prefer to wash my own feet.’ She couldn’t bear the idea of anyone touching her just now, even if it was a tradition.
    The older man appeared surprised by her declaration, but he deferred. ‘If that is your wish.’ Offering her the basin, he added, ‘I must join the others for none . If you have need of anything afterwards, you’ve only to ask.’
    Morren nodded, unwrapping the leather shoes Trahern had made for her. She rested her bare feet in the warm water. ‘Thank you, Brother.’ After he’d gone, she bathed her feet and let them sit in the warm water for a few minutes.
    The bells sounded for none , and she heard the monks’ voices rising and falling in plain chant. The simple tones were soothing, but when her hands moved over her skin, she started to tremble.
    Dark memories pulled her down, the men’s faces taunting her. Morren tried to block it out, but the nightmare of theattack returned. She lowered her head, nausea forming in her stomach. God help her, she couldn’t bear this. Her hands moved to her empty stomach, and the coldness seemed to envelop her, drowning her.
    Don’t think of it , she warned herself. Forget .
    Closing her eyes, she removed her feet from the basin and sank to her knees. The haunting voices of the monks echoed within the stone chapel, their prayers rising into the air. The coldness swallowed her up, taking her back into the numbness that she needed to survive. There had been no one to save her, no mercy. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve such a fate.
    Worse, there had come a time when she’d stopped fighting. She’d lain there, staring at the dark sky, waiting for it to be over. Shame swelled up inside her, for she should have