Read Online The Mercenary's Marriage by Rachel Rossano - Free Book Online

greeting.
Darius lowered himself to her level and offered the mug. She
swallowed the contents of the vial and immediately reached to
accept the mug. While she was still drinking deeply, Darius
spoke.
    “The king wants me in his tent for a
meeting.” Her green eyes questioned him over the rim of the cup. “I
sent word I was moving you to our tent before I head over. Ewian is
going to tell Kurt. He should be along soon to bind your ribs
before you sleep.”
    She lowered the cup and asked, “How long are
you going to be?”
    He shrugged. “The king takes whatever time he
needs and no one complains.”
    She nodded and offered the half-full mug back
to him. “Thank you.”
    Quickly swallowing the rest, Darius tossed it
onto the top on their supply pile. “Ready?” he asked.
    Nodding, she reached up for his hand to
steady herself, but Darius did not wait for her to rise to her
feet. Wrapping an arm around her and one around her legs, he
scooped her up and started toward the tents. Brice’s only response
was a startled gasp. Although Darius knew it probably would have
pained her more to walk, he still felt a twinge of guilt at hurting
her.
     
    Darius set her gently, but hurriedly, on the
cot in their tent. “I will send one of the men to fetch our things
and deliver them here later. He will leave them outside the tent,
so you will not be disturbed. The king waits,” he explained and
then was gone.
    The sounds of camp life came through the
canvas walls and filled Brice’s ears, but her mind was preoccupied
with Darius’ earlier reaction. She was not sure how he had
interpreted the emotions he had seen in her eyes, but she was
certain he had not liked them.
    The moment he asked her what she feared
Brice’s heart had jumped. She had answered honestly. She feared
him. No matter how kind he was and gentle, she knew that he would
turn on her someday. They all did. And when he did, she feared that
the most. All that honed muscle and skill in one man, any man, was
dangerous, regardless of the character of the man. Just like Lord
Micrey and her father, they draw you in so you care about them and
then they strike.
    “Brice?”
    Brice started and her body screamed,
especially her ribs.
    “Yes,” she managed between clenched teeth.
Her eyes were welling up with tears, but she refused to cry.
    “May I come in?” Kurt’s voice asked from
outside the opening.
    “Yes,” she answered again, this time with
less pain.
    A lantern and a graying head pushed through
the canvas. “He did not even leave you with a light?” Clicking his
tongue at Darius’ forgetfulness, the healer set his own light on
the ground. Brice had been so caught up in her thoughts she had not
noticed the deepening shadows.
    “He was in a hurry,” Brice managed through
the fog she just realized was settling over her senses.
    The healer examined her face closely for a
moment. “Good.” He smiled. “The medicine is taking effect. You will
be asleep as soon as I finish.” He immediately started instructing
her in what he wanted her to do. Numbly Brice obeyed.
    When the healer was finishing the last few
circles of binding, Brice asked him suddenly, “Is Darius
trustworthy?”
    Tugging gently, the healer asked, “In what
way do you mean?”
    Swallowing back the pain that rose with the
pressure, Brice clarified. “Does he ever lose his temper?”
    “Yes,” the man answered. “He has a violent
temper when it gets the better of him, but it rarely does.”
    “What happens?”
    The man smiled. “Everyone avoids him like the
plague until it cools.”
    “Does he strike people, or throw things?”
    Suddenly, Brice found her face being studied
with great scrutiny. “Brice.” Brice turned away. There was too much
honesty in the healer’s face. It frightened her. “No, Brice, look
at me.” Reluctantly Brice obeyed.
    The man’s eyes were dark blue and framed with
wrinkles. “Darius is an unusual man. He keeps to himself for the
most part, but is the