The Warrior Read Online Free PDF

neck. It was a gift from his mother, and he always carried it with him.
    “Good,” Teàrlag said. “Ye will need it before your trip is done.”
    His whistle?
    “And in our clan’s time of need, your music will provide the answer.”
     
    * * *
    Moira hated having to do this. Her heart pounded in her ears as she glanced at Sean
     again to be sure he was immersed in the fabricated tale he was telling the men on
     the other side of him. Then she met Colla’s eyes across the table and slowly ran her
     tongue across her upper lip. Colla leaned forward with his mouth hanging open like
     a fish.
    Ach, she should have chosen a man capable of subtlety. Once she scratched the men
     with wives and children off her list, there were few to choose from who owned their
     own boats. Besides, Colla had wanted her for years. It should not take long to convince
     him to take her away, and she was in a hurry.
    Moira stood up from the table and put her hand on her husband’s shoulder. When Sean
     turned his face toward her, she remembered how handsome and charming she had thought
     he was when she first met him. The charm had evaporated a long time ago, but his drinking
     had not yet softened his warrior’s body or made the skin over his broad cheekbones
     blotchy.
    He had the eyes of a snake.
    “The wine is getting low,” she said. “I’ll see that the new barrel is opened.”
    “Be quick about it,” Sean said.
    She clenched her teeth as he slapped her bottom. Ach, he had the manners of a pig.
    She could not risk a quick glance at Colla on her way out of the hall. Even blind
     drunk, Sean might notice. She hurried down the stone steps into the damp coolness
     of the undercroft. To her left, the kitchen was noisy and lit with torches and cooking
     fires. She turned to her right, into the dark corridor that led to the storerooms.
    Using the key tied to her belt, she unlocked the door to the room in which they kept
     the whiskey, wine, and ale. The smell of spirits and dank earth filled her nose as
     she slipped inside. Her heart hammered as she waited and watched through the crack
     in the door.
    Would Colla come? She did not know which she feared more—if he did or if he did not.
     Playing on a man’s desire without letting him have what he wanted was a difficult
     game to play, and the stakes could not be higher.
    Footsteps echoed against the stone walls. Her chest tightened while she watched the
     boots and then the legs of a man appear as he descended the stairs. A moment later,
     she saw that it was Colla. After pausing to glance furtively toward the kitchens,
     he strode toward the storerooms.
    “Quickly!” She opened the door for him and then shut it behind him.
    Colla pulled her against him at once, before she was prepared for it. She turned her
     face when he tried to kiss her.
    “Did I misread ye?” Colla’s breath in her face smelled of onions and ale. “Or are
     ye playing coy with me?”
    She tried to ease him away. “Ye didn’t misread me, but—”
    “God, how I’ve wanted ye,” he said as he began planting sloppy, wet kisses down the
     side of her throat. When she shivered, he mistook her revulsion for excitement and
     increased his efforts. Ach, men saw what they wanted to see. They were all vain as
     peacocks.
    “We don’t have time for this now.” Moira gripped his shoulders and gave him a hard
     push. “And ’tis not safe here.”
    “Can ye get away and meet me in the field behind the castle tonight?” Colla asked,
     breathing in her face again.
    “In the field behind the castle? Is that all ye think of me?” She did not have to
     pretend to be affronted.
    “I think the world of ye,” Colla said, leaning too close again.
    “’Tis too dangerous for us here,” she said. “If Sean caught us, he’d murder us both.”
    “If ye could slip away for an afternoon,” Colla said, “there’s a quiet bay a couple
     of miles to the west.”
    “Do ye think I’d leave my husband for a man who