The Warrior and the Druidess Read Online Free PDF Page A

with a sharp scythe, heading toward him as she cut down wheat. He stood his ground, waiting for her approach.
    “Hail, Tanwen.” He gazed into her bright, beckoning eyes, waiting.
    “Brude, good morn.” She scowled.
    He glanced around to see if her guards were nearby, but then they didn’t need to be. Tanwen was more intimidating than any army as she stared daggers at him and grasped the sharp scythe.
    “Tanwen, put the scythe down.”
    She tightened her hold. “Why? I have come to cut the wheat with my betrothed. Is it not so? You said last night we would marry today. Did you not?”
    Deny it . The thought blared in his head. After all, he had drunk a great deal of heather mead, and so had she. No one would hold him to a betrothal made in such a state— drunk, naked and covered in blue woad paint. “I do not recall.”
    She raised the scythe a bit higher. Her eyes sparked with anger. “But last eve, you swore we would be wed this day.”
    “We were both drunk and naked.” Her glaring eyes were like sharp claws holding him down. And her lips thinned with anger. Would she really swing the scythe at him? His stomach knotted. He fought to keep his composure. “Why don’t you put down the scythe? You are a druidess, Boudica’s granddaughter. My father has offered you full hospitality. You do not need to cut wheat. There are many women in the tribe who can do that. Sit and rest.”
    Her gaze bore into him with a stabbing anger, but she did not say a word.
    “Do you not ken it to be best?” Brude asked, shaken by her piercing gaze.
    “No. I think it best you announce our betrothal.”
    “I decide when and whom I wed.” He felt the heat of everyone’s gazes on him. But it was too late to back down. “I have no plans to marry you. I recant any promise I did or did not make last eve when we coupled afore the fire.”
    “An oath sworn by a warrior of the Caledonii should be held to. I will take the matter up with Chief Calach. In the name of my grandmother, Queen Boudica, I demand justice.”
    In a blink of an eye, Huctia and Gethin appeared at Tanwen’s side with scythes in their hands.
    Where did they come from? Brude thought. It has all gone too far. I cannot dishonor my father by breaking an oath.
    “Huctia, Gethin, good news. Tanwen and I have chosen to wed.” He feigned a pleasing tone and forced a smile for the two guards. He jerked his head back to Tanwen. “If you wish to wed me, so be it. I hope you do not come to regret your choice of groom.”
    The venomous threat spilled from his mouth before he even knew he had said it. He spoke in anger, which was why he didn’t want to marry a druidess. Brude couldn’t think straight around them. They gave orders and worked magic. Let her go back to Britannia where she belonged.
    But he saw the pain in her eyes at his words, and his guilt hit him like a Roman whip in the face. “Tanwen, if you will have me, I will wed you.” He bit his tongue and thought, what did I say ?
    “So be it. I will wed you, as my grandmother wishes.” Tanwen spoke each with evenly-spaced words and in a calm tone, and then she loosened her grip on the scythe.
    Huctia walked up to Tanwen and hugged her. “Congratulations, Bright One.”
    “My thanks.”
    “Now that it is settled, let us get back to work,” Brude said. For a second time, I’ve promised to wed the druidess. How did that happen? Brude nodded at Tanwen then turned away and moved through the fields. He pushed conflicting thoughts aside and focused on the simple work of the harvest.
    The day went by fast. The entire tribe worked alongside Brude and Tanwen, cutting down crops of oats , barley, and rye.
    Tanwen wiped the sweat from her brow. Then, she took twelve sheaves, wound a long straw of hay around them and then knotted the end. She glanced up to see that Brude and the other villagers were doing the same.
    She stepped back and watched Brude and Gethin throw the stooks into a wagon.
    The driver gave Tanwen a