Draco A Medieval Scottish Roma - Jayne Castel Page 0,13

Gavina was. But the place inside his chest, where his heart thudded against his ribs, was cold and dead.

Digging deep, he realized he felt nothing at all.

We have to break the curse, he thought, bleakness flooding through him. I need an end to this. With the curse broken, death would eventually find him, and it was likely to be from misadventure rather than old age.

He’d sought oblivion for so long, but the curse was always there to bring him back to the living with the dawn. He was so weary of life. Every morning when his eyes flickered open, heaviness descended. He always shut his eyes once more then, and murmured a prayer to Mithras.

Surely, one day, the Bull-slayer would heed him?

Death would be such sweet relief after a life that had gone on for far too long.

Draco clenched his jaw then. He hated that dark thoughts dogged him wherever he was and whatever he was doing. He wanted to lose himself in the beauty of the sunshine and the lush landscape unfolding around him.

I’ll feel better once war comes to Dunnottar, he assured himself as the party thundered down a slope and the horses leaped the narrow burn at the bottom. Few men craved war like he did. He couldn’t die, but being surrounded by death made despair release its stranglehold. He didn’t relish the pain of being injured, but at least that brought a welcome distraction from the mire of his own dark thoughts.

As the noon sun crested the sky, the party stopped to rest their horses and eat some of the bannock and hard cheese they’d brought with them. They’d left the rolling hills and wide skies behind now, and entered a landscape of wooded valleys interspersed by meadows. Their resting place was next to a trickling burn, so that the horses could be watered.

Draco took his food and sat down with it upon a mossy boulder, apart from the others. He ate quickly, taking little pleasure in the meal. And all the while, his gaze surveyed his surroundings, taking note of every detail.

The English had yet to come this far north, but it still paid to be wary. Shaw Irvine might have planned an ambush, and could be waiting for his gullible sister to ride straight into his trap.

Draco’s jaw tightened at this last thought, his gaze narrowing when it rested upon the lady herself.

He didn’t know why, but his attention was constantly straying to Lady Gavina today.

It’s just because you’ve been charged to protect her, he told himself. Nonetheless, it was as if she were the shore and he the tide. Without thinking, his attention shifted to her again now, and as it did so, he found himself scrutinizing her.

As much as he hated to admit it, for the woman chafed him like a boil upon his arse, the Lady of Dunnottar truly was a beauty. She sat upon a rock, back ram-rod straight, daintily picking at some dried fruits she had brought with her. The braid wrapped around the crown of her head was an austere style that drew attention to the slender length of her neck—she had a neck like a swan.

Her cold manner must have been off-putting indeed, for David De Keith had appeared immune to his wife’s loveliness. Perhaps she was just as icy in bed, Draco reflected. Not all beautiful women were lusty between the sheets.

“Enjoying the sunshine?” Maximus approached Draco, shattering his reverie. His friend winked then, for he’d caught Draco staring. “Or gazing upon something else?”

Draco pulled a face and shoved the last bit of bannock into his mouth, washing it down with a gulp of wine from the bladder Maximus passed him. He’d sat down upon the boulder next to him, his keen gaze scanning their surroundings as Draco had been doing.

Before Gavina had caught his eye.

“It’s quiet out here today,” Maximus observed. “We haven’t seen any travelers on the road.”

Draco shrugged. “I’m not surprised. The threat of war makes folk a bit nervous of venturing out.” He cast Maximus a look then and saw he was frowning. “Don’t worry, Edward will come north.”

Maximus grunted, taking back the bladder of wine and raising it to his lips. “The Broom-star isn’t going to remain in the night-sky for much longer,” he replied. “We’re cutting things close.”

Draco heard the tension in his friend’s voice. A rare pang of sympathy lanced through him. Draco cared about few people these days, but Maximus Cato and Cassian Gaius were his brothers. The