Kingdom Come by Kathryn Le Veque Page A

time?”
            She was about to nod forcefully but stopped short when she saw the look on his face.  Then she tried to pull away from him, shaking her head.
    “I don’t want to stay here anymore,” she said, fighting off tears once again. “I can’t. I want to go back to where I came from, where I belong.”
    “If you go back to where you came from, I must stay here. I cannot go with you.”
    Her gaze snapped to him as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her. The hazel eyes widened for a moment as she realized what she had been asking, and what his response was.  She was moderately irrational and coming to realize it. Fear was doing strange things to her though processes. She suddenly didn’t feel like pulling away from him any longer.
    “I’ll never leave you,” she murmured. “If that’s my choice, I’ll choose staying with you hands-down.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “I’m sure.”
    He smiled faintly at her and turned back to the carnage of the room.  It was then that Rory realized there were two dead men on the floor of the room and, having never seen a dead body in her life, she suddenly gasped and turned away. Too much blood and gore made her physically ill.  The nausea she had been experiencing since awakening on the beach suddenly returned full-force.
    Kieran heard her gasp and turned to her just in time to see her shove her face into the wall.
    “What is wrong?” he asked, concerned.
    She couldn’t speak.  All she could do was point to the bloodied mess on the floor.  As Kieran realized her delicate senses were not dealing well with something he hardly raised an eyebrow at, a swarthy old woman with a caved-in mouth appeared at the door.  She was little and dirty.  Hut was right behind her and together, they stared wide-eyed at the destroyed room.
    “We heard the commotion, my lord,” Hut said. “Are ye well?”
    Kieran glanced at Rory with her face still pressed into the wall. “Well enough,” he motioned at the old woman. “What is this?”
    The old woman held the wad of material aloft as Hut spoke. “The garments ye requested for yer lady,” he said. “It is all I could find.”
    “Where did you get it?”
    “From one of the serving wenches; she is about the size of yer lady.”
    Kieran nodded. “Do you have another room where she can dress?” he glanced back at the carnage in the room. “This chamber is… unacceptable.”
    Hut nodded, motioning eagerly to Kieran. “Across the hall, m’lord. ‘Tis a small room where the serving wenches sleep but it should serve well enough.”
    Kieran reached out and gently pulled Rory away from the wall. She came away stiffly, almost tripping over her feet because she was afraid to open her eyes and see all of the blood and guts again.  He put his big arm around her shoulders, putting his lips against her ear as he guided her from the room.
    “They have located you some suitable clothing,” he said softly. “You will go with this woman and allow her to assist you.”
    Rory had opened her eyes by now and held an odd wide-eyed look. “Oh, God,” she hissed. “What if it’s crawling with bugs?”
    “You will have to endure.”
    She shook her head and began to drag her feet but he pulled her along insistently.
    “I won’t wear it if it’s crawling with bugs,” she insisted as he pulled her through the door.  “I told you that, Kieran. No bugs.”
    “You will wear it,” he said, more firmly. “Tomorrow I will buy new clothing for you that will be to your liking. But for tonight, you have no choice.”
    “But, Kieran….”
    “Go.” It was a command in a tone she’d never heard from him before. “Enough complaining. I know you are upset and I know you are fearful, but the time has come for you to put this foolishness aside and accept the situation for what it is. Are you truly a weak-souled complainer or are you the strong woman I believe you are?”
    Her back stiffened indignantly. “Don’t you dare