What a brilliant time for the Crooked Cat Christmas ebook Sale!
There are loads of fantastic Crooked Cat books at 77p available from across the Amazon network!
You'll be able to get THE BELTANE CHOICE for 77p /99c if you've not read it yet...
and that's fantastic because Book 2 of the series, AFTER WHORL: BRAN REBORN, launches in only 9 days....
Still time to read Book 1 before you carry on with the stories of my Celtic Garrigill warriors.
Here's a little bit from THE BELTANE CHOICE:
(At this point in the story Nara of the Selgovae has been a prisoner at the Brigante hillfort of Garrigill for a short time. She has felt safe enough when Lorcan has been there to protect her, but if he leaves...)
Tully’s words faded at the end, his vigour gone. Nara felt him all but
collapse against her as she bore the brunt of his weight, although it may have
seemed to the crowd Tully forced her in place beside him for his grip was
tight, his bony arm cradling her shoulder blades. Her eyes glanced to Lorcan,
to impart to him how weakened Tully was. Lorcan looked ready to jump to her
assistance, and that was all she needed. Stiffening her stance, she continued
to bear Tully’s load.
The old chief turned to Lorcan, looking at him across
her body, his eyes rheumy with pain and with something she discerned was akin
to regret. His clutch at her shoulders crunched her very bones. Something was
amiss. A dread coursed through her. She did not know why, but it seemed as
though Tully sent that same regret to her through his gnarled old fingers. His
weary voice was as loud as he could muster, but it mattered little for the
whole room listened intently for his countenance was so solemn.
“At dawn, word will go to all eligible Brigante
princes of the North about this marriage bargain. I will bid as many interested
as possible to be with us by Beltane–by proxy, if not the princes themselves.”
The blood drained from Nara’s head at Tully’s words, her body trembling
as much as his feeble one. She could not be sure but she thought Lorcan had
stiffened at her other side. Tully’s fingers dug tight into her as he sidled
even closer to her body, yet she sensed the old chief was not attempting to
control her, or harm her: rather the opposite. Knowing how much his words had
caused her tremor of fear, his bony fingers appeared to be pouring the last
dregs of his physical and emotional strength into her, aware of the
implications to her future. The gesture strangely appealed, for Tully’s touch
gave her succour her own father had never, ever given her.
From that point on, Nara could not be certain if she gave the
weakened Tully support, or if he supported her. What was clear to the assembled
company was their chief publicly acknowledging his agreement to the marriage
bargain as his arm encircled her.
“The elders of Garrigill will congregate on the morrow
to consider the wider scheme for alliances.” His voice was faint, exhausted to
the point of collapse.
A nod from Tully indicated she should sit. She slipped
her trembling body down to the stool as ordered but maintained the arm she had
curved behind Tully’s painfully thin waist. She should hate Tully. She should
let him fall to the ground, or allow him to waver there on his own spindly legs
till he stumbled.
Nara found she could do neither of those things. Hate his
suggestions? She certainly did that, but she could not bring herself to hate
the short-tempered old man next to her who had just declared yet a different
fate for her. Slumping against him, her shoulder supported him even more than
before to enable him to complete his speech as, yet again, she contemplated the
floor rushes.
“If we ally first with the Selgovae, then I see the
Parisi, Novante and even the Votadini joining, too. It takes only one stone to
start a cairn. Think on it well, people of Garrigill.”
As well as her own tremors, and Tully’s shaking, Nara could feel the
tension, even rage, emanating from Lorcan sitting alongside her. His fists
clenched tight at his knees, his neck muscles straining as he stared into the
blazing fire, his eyes agog with fury. Already attuned in some way to him, she
sensed he repressed the urge to punch someone–almost certainly his own father,
for wily old Tully had just widened the marriage alliance to include many other
contenders.
Nara was appalled. Marriage with a Brigante was going to
be forced on her, but not necessarily with Lorcan. Escape seemed even more
necessary than before, but it was even more impossible. She, too, stared into
the flames. The merest hint of protest in this company and she would be dead.
A shout rose from a young warrior at the back of the
second row, his angry finger pointing to her.
“Will retribution from her tribe befall us before we can discuss this again? Will we of the
outposts of Garrigill be attacked in our very beds this night, because she has
been brought into our midst?”
Alarm swelled around the company at his dire words,
increasingly volatile and hostile.
Tully looked to Lorcan to respond. Nara bent her head and studied the fire
again, unwilling to meet the antagonistic eyes of those around. They hated her.
She had been correct, but had Lorcan heeded her? Her position was even more
perilous now.
Happy reading,
Slainthe!
