Page 28 of Fletcher

With Jamaran he could forget, at least for a time, that hundreds of lives depended on his decisions.

Once they reached the channel that sent sea water overland to the salt spring, Jamaran surfaced with him, and they looked over the stone-strewn glen. In the center, an oasis of tall green grasses and curving willows surrounded a wide rock-lined pool, created long ago by Prince Mar’s magic. Nyall saw a pair of young females, both naked to the waist, kneeling on the ledge and dipping wash rags into the crystalline water.

“They’re dairy maids from the valley,” Nyall said, recognizing the women. “The spring washes away the scent of cow and dung from their skin.”

“My favorite sort of maid.” Jamaran glanced over at the horizon, where the sun was sinking behind the trees. “Shall we warn them, then?”

So as not to frighten the girls Nyall went ahead of his friend, and climbed out of the channel. Both maids jumped to their feet, but when they saw his face they giggled and crossed their arms over their naked breasts.

“Fair evening, Captain,” one of them hailed him. “What brings you round the glen?”

“I come with a friend.” He nodded to Jamaran, who hoisted himself into their sight before he joined him and walked toward the pair. “We need you spread word on the farm that all sea-fed springs mustnae be used by anyone for now. The laird shall send word when ’tis safe again.”

“Aye, Captain,” both maids chorused, but their gazes shifted to the commander and his skin-tight garments. The younger of the two then asked, “Should we go now, then?” while sounding as if she wanted to do anything but that.

In his mind Nyall had an image of Jamaran going and taking the maid in his arms. Since he rarely spoke to mortals he would likely kiss her breathless before undressing her. Then an image of himself with the older maid came into his head, but not from his own imagining.

You’re too proud to bed one of the clan’s vassals, his friend chided through his thoughts. But I wouldnae mind watching you with a wench.

The older maid came to Nyall, and slid her arms around his waist as she pressed her full, bare breasts against him. “Come, lad. I’d prove the other lasses wrong about you. You’re no’ as cold as they reckon, I’ll wager.”

“My thanks, but we’ve no time to dally.” He set her at arm’s length. “Get along with you, and remember warn the others who use the spring pools.”

Both maids pouted as they dressed and trudged off toward the verdant pasturelands between the two peaks. As he watched them go Nyall’s erection subsided, and when he glanced at Jamaran his friend gave him a rueful look in return.

“’Tis too much, what I thought,” the commander said. “Apologies.”

If any other man had said such a thing to him, Nyall would have knocked him on his arse. His friend, however, was like a brother to him, and he hoped he regarded him the same. “You dinnae wish fack me while I swive the wench, I hope.”

Jamaran laughed out loud. “I like you, Captain, but my tadger doesnae share my affection. Indeed, I’d rather part ways with the damned thing first.”

Although he considered the other man like a brother, any such intention to use Nyall as a lover would have put an abrupt end to their friendship. “Good.”

As they returned to the sea Jamaran signaled for him to wait, and shot forward to meet two of the Finfolk patrolling the island’s waters. Both men seemed agitated, but after a few moments nodded and continued on their way.

The commander swam back to him, his expression grim now. Freja’s gone missing. When she couldnae find me, she swam off alone. The king forbade all females and younglings from leaving the settlement until we put down the shark.

We’ll return along the same route we took, Nyall thought to him. She may be hiding somewhere and watching for your return.

As they went, Jamaran swam a side-to-side pattern to cover the most water, weaving his way through the currents to taste them for any sign of the widow. Nyall scanned the bottom shelf off the island, and stopped to glance inside every reef cave to assure Freja had not become trapped. Darkness had fallen by the time they reached the cove near the stronghold, but they found no trace of the widow.

“I must find her son, and learn what he may ken of her intent,” Jamaran said. “Doubtless the king shall wish perform a full sweep of the bay. Send word if you find more bones.”

Nyall touched his friend’s shoulder. “Go safely.”

Fletcher left Lark sleeping as he slipped out of the guest room a scant hour before dawn, and made his way to his own chamber to bathe and change. They’d barely slept the whole of the night, so he would have to warn the maids not to disturb his woman.

My woman. Mine alone. That notion seemed unreal to him yet, as if he’d just awoken from a long and luscious dream.

As he stripped out of his garments he noticed some fading marks on his skin that silently testified to the many hours of pleasure he’d shared with Lark. When she forgot herself she used her fingernails on him, and he’d relished that frantic scoring. There had been a moment, too, when he’d sworn they’d both floated up in the air as the pleasure took them. His tadger, which should have been shriveled after so much prolonged use, rose slightly as soon as he washed it.

“Dinnae,” Fletcher told it sternly. “’Twas her maiden night. As ’tis, she’ll likely run at the next sight of me.”

The unruly thing twitched as it remembered being suckled by those soft, gentle lips.

Once dressed he went down to the kitchens to see that Brochan had preparations for the morning meal well in hand. Meg met him with a cup of brew, and nodded when he told her to keep the maids from disturbing Lark until mid-morning.

“She’ll want a bathe soon after she rises, I reckon.” The chambermaid picked up the tray she’d prepared for the laird and his wife. “A nosegay of flowers gathered by a grateful hand shouldnae be amiss, either.”