Page 25 of The Irresistible Warrior
The cleric stopped abruptly. “A witch is not… nothing. A witch needs to be dealt with seriously before she spreads her evil.”
“There is no evil spreading here, Cleric,” Declan said. “It is a joyous occasion that brings you here… a wedding.”
“But since I am here, I can deal with the witch,” the cleric insisted, pushing his long, stringy hair behind his ears.
Declan stood, a stern look on his face. “Nay, you won’t. You will wed us and take your leave.”
The cleric’s eyes narrowed. “The witch?—”
“Is for me to deal with, not you. Do I make myself clear, Cleric?” Declan said threateningly.
“Aye, my son, very clear,” the cleric said with a nod.
Declan sensed the man would be a problem and the sooner he sent him on his way the better.
“You will perform the vows now so you may take your leave after enjoying a hardy meal,” Declan said with a strength that left no room for an argument.
“A night’s rest I beg of you before I must journey back to the monastery,” the cleric pleaded.
Declan didn’t trust him, but it would not be wise of him to deny his request. “One night, Cleric, no more.”
The cleric bobbed his head. “I am grateful, my son.”
“Now wed us,” Declan said without preamble.
The next thing Aura knew, she was standing beside Declan, the cleric in front of them, Hamish to his side, and Freyda to her side, and the servants gathered around, smiles on their faces as the cleric commenced with the ceremony that ended with him claiming them husband and wife.
Hamish led a cheer, and Declan ordered drinks for all, and talk turned to the festive celebration being planned to honor the chieftain’s wedding.
Aura mostly smiled, saying only a word or two, too lost in her thoughts to say much. She still could not quite grasp that she was Declan’s wife. They had no time since returning home from the ring of stones the day before to speak about the incident with the witch. And here she was suddenly his wife.
Clansmen began drifting in upon hearing the news and more drinks were served along with food. There was a merriment in the air that Aura didn’t feel since none of this was real. And then there was the one thing she had been trying to ignore since it happened… the kiss.
It had startled her, but she had enjoyed it. She liked the feel of his lips on hers, the way he held her neck firm in his hand, the light brush of his lips before he truly kissed her. She had dreamed of kisses, giggled about them with her sisters, but as time went on it became apparent that she would never know a kiss.
Now she did, though its joy had faded when he apologized and made an excuse as to why he kissed her. And now, knowing how a kiss felt, she would miss never being kissed again.
“Something troubles you?”
Aura turned to find her husband’s face close to hers.
“You look far away, wife, as if you do not want to be here,” he said, having watched her try to enjoy the merriment.
“There is much to be done, and we have barely talked since the incident yesterday?—”
“Chieftain Declan,” the cleric called out boldly from across the room a slur to his words from the many tankards of ale he had enjoyed. “I just heard of your curse. Surely it is the work of the witch. She must be found and burnt to free you.”
Hamish, into his cups as well, called out, “Aura, his wife,” —he raised his tankard— “is wise in the ways of plants and will rid the chieftain of the curse.”
The cleric’s eyes narrowed. “Wise when it comes to plants? Do you practice witchcraft, Aura?”
The room went dead still, and Declan shot to his feet, fury in his eyes.
“Watch what you accuse my wife of, Cleric,” he warned, fighting to contain his anger. “She is a good and kind woman.”
“Women can hide their evil until it’s too late,” the cleric unwisely continued.
Declan smashed his fist down on the table. “My wife is not evil, speak ill of her again and I will have your tongue cut out of your mouth.”
