Ria Cantrell - Celtic Storm 03 Read Online Free Page B

villager or child. Many times, she had left in the middle of the night to aid some poor sick baby. She never complained. Tristan would watch her return in the early morning hours after nursing a wee babe all night. She was selfless and beautiful. She dealt with those who needed her with unceasing kindness and compassion. Never had Tristan seen her react with such anger and malice. Then again, never had something threatened her world so completely as the king’s edict to marry. Tristan realized that perhaps, for the first time in her life, Lady Rhianna was truly afraid. No amount of courage could prepare her for the impending marriage to a man that may or may not be kind. More often than not, the arranged marriages were barters to the highest bidders, where the woman’s feelings were rarely taken into consideration. Tristan hoped, for the sake of his mistress, that was not the case and that the match would be a good one. Without speaking his dissention, Tristan knew he would have a hard time obeying Rhianna’s orders this time.
     
    ~Chapter Four~
     
    Erik’s head throbbed with each hoof beat beneath him. He silently cursed the drink that caused the constant pounding inside his skull. Erik cursed the king and his decree that had forced him to overindulge in the drink in the first place. He cursed the du Montefort crone, and most of all, he cursed himself. He should have sought private council with the king to plead for his cause, but because of his foolishness, Erik was in no condition to speak to anyone, let alone his king.  The sun seemed excessively bright this morn and it caused his eyes to water. The lurching of the beast beneath his saddle was wreaking havoc on his already roiling innards. Muttering an oath again, Erik reined in his warhorse. This caused the line of his men to stop abruptly. They waited for his instructions but for the moment, there were none forthcoming.
    Leaping down from the great horse’s back, Erik barely made it to the bushes before dishonoring himself in front of his men. They all tried to ignore the definite sounds of a man retching in the underbrush. Having been in the same predicament a time or two themselves, they turned deaf ears to their knight as he lost his breakfast at the side of the road. 
    When the onslaught had passed, Erik wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and mounted his horse. While he felt a mite better from purging the venomous alcohol from his system, the sharp pain cutting through his skull was worse after he had so ungraciously puked. With a sly smirk on his lips, Drew tried not to laugh outright at his friend’s sorry state. He rode up to the front flanks and trotted alongside of Erik’s horse. Clearing his throat, Drew said, “There, are you feeling better now?”
    Erik growled, “Nay, I do not, as if you didn’t know. My head feels like someone is bashing it with a mace.”
    “You were quite in your cups last night. Just what the hell were you drinking?”
    “Damned if I know. I remember the ale and the mead and then some vile tasting spirit thereafter, but the rest is a blur.”
    Laughing, Drew said, “Well that will teach you. You never mix the grape with the grain .”
    “Don’t remind me. It blotted out my misery at least for a time, but I dare say, marrying the hag almost seems brighter than this pain in my skull.”
    “You don’t know that she is a hag.”
    “I was told she is on in years; well past the age to marry. I overheard some of the king’s men talking. No one has asked for her hand thus far. She must be hideous.”
    Smiling still, Drew said, “Well, she is a rich hag, then. You will garner her lands and her holdings. That should at least sweeten the prospect of being saddled with an old woman to wife.”
    Erik knew that Drew was a landless knight, and therefore he probably thought Erik was foolish to seek avoiding the lot cast upon him. He knew that Drew’s brother stood to inherit the lands and manor of the Brandham estates. At