The Mercenary's Marriage Read Online Free PDF Page A

old one of mine.”
    Finding herself swamped by gray fabric, Brice
felt a bit overwhelmed. Long fingers firmly fastened the clasp and
raised the hood to almost hide her face from sight. “There,” the
warrior before her declared, “You can hide from everything in
there.” Lifting the edge of the hood and peeking from beneath it,
Brice was surprised at the laughter in the man's eyes. It promptly
disappeared though. Another loud blast vibrated though the camp.
“Come,” he instructed and strode to the entrance of the tent.
Gathering the excess material like a highborn lady gathers her
skirt, Brice hurried to obey.
     
    The morning passed smoothly once Brice grew
accustomed to the horse's lolling gait. The company traveled at the
speed of the foot soldiers and Darius stayed near the king. Before
mounting, he had donned many pieces of gear including a large
sword. Brice initially found sharing the saddle with a fully armed
mercenary awkward, but eventually she became comfortable with his
constant arm around her waist and strong presence at her back.
    In the late morning, the company stopped for
a quick meal. Before they ate, Darius decided to bring her to see
the supply master. Weaving back through the large wagons that had
lumbered along behind them, Darius brought her directly up to the
largest one. “Master Kline, I have a challenge for you,” he said to
the elderly man sitting in the shade of the wagon.
    “So you say, my boy,” the man answered before
looking up from his harness mending. “I have been outfitting
soldiers, archers, and all manner of warriors for many years. What
kind of challenge could you offer me?”
    “A rare one I am sure.” Darius waved Brice
forward. “This woman needs clothing and foot gear.”
    The man's eyes widened and carefully looked
her up and down. “Take off the cloak, child,” he instructed, “And
help me up, boy.” Flapping a hand at Darius, he readied himself to
rise. Dutifully, Darius took the older man's flailing limb and
pulled him to his feet. The man immediately began to circle Brice
and mutter to himself. Darius took her cloak and stepped back.
Folding his arms across his chest, he stood there, watchfully
waiting.
    “So where did he find you?” Master Kline
asked before tugging at Brice’s dirt-covered skirt. Only the
morning before it had been one of her best, but after the tumble in
the dirt, a night's sleep, and so much time on the horse, the
material was never going to be the same.
    “Well, child,” the older man prompted her as
he frowned on her dirty bare feet. “Don't tell me he found you in a
palace.” He winked at her and then went back to frowning.
“Obviously he does not know how to treat a lady.” Clicking his
tongue and wagging his head, he turned to Darius. “You have much to
learn, boy.”
    “Just dress her, Kline, and stop lecturing
me.” Darius did not sound pleased with the Master Kline. The older
man, however, did not seem bothered by the prospect of a large
foreign mercenary being angry with him.
    “The cloak just needs hemming, which you can
do yourself, right child?” He raised a questioning eyebrow.
    Brice nodded.
    “Good.” Standing back, the man began to
stroke his scruffy chin. “All the boots I have will be too big, but
how do some leather shoes sound?” Master Kline looked over at the
soldier.
    Darius nodded. “She will be spending most of
her time on my horse, not her feet. That should suit.”
    “I have a rather worn tunic and surcoat
somewhere that will hold up better than this flimsy stuff.” The man
lifted some of Brice's skirt. The dress had never been fancy, but
it was not made for travel either.
    “How soon?” Darius asked.
    “This evening,” Kline answered. “I will also
provide a needle, thread and scissors for her cloak. Now move on,
you two, I have work to do.” Turning, he headed back toward his
wagon.
    “Come.” Darius took her cloak and wrapped it
around her shoulders. “I am sure you are