Emlyn scoffed her affront, and muttered under her breath. “I’ve already been with a man, and I could do without such unwanted attentions for the rest of my life.”

Branwyn’s lips firmed and she shook her head. “What say you?”

Emlyn continued, “My father only betrothed me to Bevan to reward him for his honorable service, and he had his choice. I couldn’t reject him, now could I?” She watched her friend’s eyes sadden, and wanted to shove Delyth’s face beneath the water for bringing up the subject. “I’m sorry, Bran, we shouldn’t discuss him. I know how upset you get when we do.”

“Nay, I miss him is all. If you cease discussing Bevan that would make me sadder. He was tolerant of your … interest in weapons,” Branwyn said. “I deem he really loved you.”

She snorted. “Love, verily not? Hah, he wanted a bed partner and I …” Emlyn closed her mouth, for she never told her friends about what she’d done with Bevan. She couldn’t wed another, what with the loss of her precious virginity. No man would be as accepting of her now.

They probably would ask questions, which she wasn’t wont to answer. She didn’t believe there was another man who would be as tolerant as Bevan. The only hope she had to avoid marriage was to stay out of her father’s view, and that was an easy task since he was preoccupied with the recent fracas betwixt him and Marshall.

“I want a man who knows his way around the bed. Aye, I wouldn’t mind a handsome face either.” Delyth said.

Emlyn laughed. “You would.”

“Tell me that is not preferable to the unkempt men we have to contend with here. I vow they’ve no care of their looks and act as though we should kiss their feet.” Delyth scooped water with her hands and trickled it over her breasts.

“I wish they’d have a care about their appearance,” Branwyn said. “Cranog refuses to remove the whiskers on his face. I told him he must do so before our wedding or he’ll be sharing his own marriage bed. You should’ve seen the look upon his face.”

“Who cares? A man is a man, and they all come with the same equipment.” Emlyn screeched when Delyth splashed her with a good bit of vigor and blinded her with a hefty stream of water.

Branwyn snorted. “Nay they don’t. Haven’t ye seen them bathing? Aye, I’ve seen every shape and size. I vow their equipment is verily varying.”

“Honestly, you two addle me with this talk. I wish not to speak of men’s pricks or their hairy faces.” Emlyn glared, tiring of the subject. “But I agree. A man with a smooth cheek is more appealing. I could do without prosy speech though.” She laughed thinking of such a man. A man akin to that wouldn’t last long in her presence.

Delyth made a face and Branwyn giggled.

She thought she heard a noise nearby and turned to spy the surrounding trees.  “Shhh.”

Her friends ceased moving, but the sound of the waterfall was too loud for them to hear anyone or anything if it was close by.

“It must’ve been my imagination.” Emlyn hoped it wasn’t the army that was expected any day, for danger might be lurking in the surrounding forest. She regretted not keeping her sword within reach.

“We shouldn’t have come here this late. We should return.” Emlyn left the water and shook to dispel water droplets from her naked body. She found her sword in the pile of garments and set it upon the rock should she need it. Using her shift, she dried herself and donned her breeches and tunic.

“We’ll have to sneak back inside the walls,” Delyth said.

“The watch will give us away if we enter through the gate. Come, I know an easier way where we’ll not be noticed. No one will see us.”

Chapter Five

James stood in the adjacent woods, captivated by the sight before him.

He swore they were water nymphs, or faeries, or kelpies. Their discussion likewise held him and his comrades enthralled. If someone forced him to move he would have balked, for all he wished at that moment, was to view the naked faerie and bask in her glory.

The lass brazen enough to wear breeches drew his attention the most for even in the dim light of dusk, he could see how red her hair was. He had a fondness for red-haired lassies. They were definitely more willful and always set his blood to heat. Even now, he grew hot from watching her.

Her lovely body was exposed for all to see, and he almost insisted the men accompanying him turn their gazes. Were that he claimed her as his; he’d demand his friends’ chivalry. Alas, she was not his. But sure enough, his mouth hung open when he watched her naked body leave the water.

James wished he could’ve ventured from his hiding place so he could feel her against him, to cover her delectable body, and to ensure for himself that she was real. Never had he seen such breasts. Perfection couldn’t describe them and his body grew rigid.

“James, we’re leaving,” Colm called in a hushed tone.

But James was enraptured and watched the bonny faerie vanish within the shadows of the trees. He kept his eyes fastened on the tree she disappeared behind, hoping she would reappear.

When they’d come upon the lassies, he, Sean, Kenneth, Duff, and Colm, hung back lest they frighten them. James could’ve laughed at their discussion and never reasoned women spoke so openly about men.

He retreated to camp and set his bedroll, knowing this night he’d get little sleep. For his imagination was going to be busy. A frown came, because he realized how unchivalrous he’d been. He wasn’t one to stare so openly at an unclothed woman without her knowing. Such ill-manners unsettled him, and yet a grin came. For at least, he’d be able to dream about her.

Night came and the six-hundred men they’d brought would have to camp outside the walls. Grey left as soon as they’d arrived, and had gone to inform the Iorwerth laird of their arrival. He remarked Iorwerth would know they rallied outside his keep. It was difficult to keep six-hundred men quiet.

James became concerned when his laird insisted on only taking Duff with him to meet with the chieftain. That was well and good for Duff was the most formidable of Grey’s guardsmen. Still, James didn’t know if they’d be well received or if Llywelyn would take offense. They only had their king’s directive and didn’t trust the Wales chieftain would accept their aid. None of the guardsmen who swore to protect their laird were pleased by his orders to await him.

When they returned to camp, their laird still had not returned. James pulled a piece of wood he’d started whittling the day before and set to finish it. By the time the bark was smooth and the form had taken shape, Grey returned.

“We’re to await morning and then will be shown inside. Llywelyn is out of the keep and should be back by then. We might as well get rest.”

Several leaders went to relay the message to the troops awaiting Grey’s orders.

James thought the men would cheer, for Grey had ridden them hard on the journey. They’d taken infrequent rests along the way because he wanted to arrive and be done with their duty as quickly as possible.

James stared up at the night sky, content to lie outside the tent. The stars shown above and the moon was just coming over the tree line. Had they arrived a few days later, they wouldn’t have had the night brightness to afford travel. And he wouldn’t have seen the red-haired faerie.

His dreams throughout the night indeed were that of the faerie. She affected him, more than he imagined she would. He awoke with a stiffness between his legs and a sheen of sweat covering his body.

When morning came, James hastened back to the waterfall. He hoped to glimpse the water sprite again. But alas, he was disappointed. He shed his garments and jumped into the water, hoping to abate the longing that coursed through him. Before long, many of his comrades joined him.