Free Dragon Knight's Axe by Mary Morgan Page B

nodded her head in thanks.
    He stood for a few more moments. Did he have more to say? Finally, when he turned to leave, she burst out, “Do you think I could get some water when we reach land?”
    Fiona thought she saw humor spark his eyes when he turned back around. “Why did ye not say so earlier?”
    She blinked at his response, and then waved a hand about. “Well, it’s not like you have running water to take a sip from, is it?”
    He rubbed a hand over several days’ growth of beard, and Fiona noticed a slight smirk curving his mouth. “Nae, though I do have a small amount for drinking.”
    Her mouth opened in shock, and then she snapped it shut. “It’s just I assumed…well, um, I don’t like to use that word assume.” She looked away from green eyes, which were now dancing with mirth. “Yes, please, I would like the water.”
    “Gunnar,” bellowed Alastair. “Bring the lass some water.” He gave her a curt nod and then turned, walking back to one of the men.
    “What the hell is the matter with you, Fiona? Can you not even speak correctly around the man?” she asked half-aloud.
    She gave a weak smile when Gunnar brought her a huge cup filled with water. Cool and refreshing, she drank deeply. Handing it back to him, she sighed. “Thank you.” Noting the strange look on Gunnar’s face, she asked, “What’s wrong?”
    Gunnar looked at the cup and then back at her. “You prefer this over ale or wine? ’Tis much like your beast.” He chuckled softly as he walked away.
    Before she could comment on his remark, Alastair was directing them toward land. Casting her sight out to the approaching coast, she stood. There was only one other ship, smaller than the Viking one she traveled on. One of the men shouted something to Alastair, and he responded with a foul curse. Was this the way he greeted everyone?
    For the next few moments, they flung insults back and forth until the man on the dock started laughing.
    “Men,” snorted Fiona. “So now we’re going to see who has the bigger balls by cursing? Sheesh, it’s all the same no matter what century.”
    She noticed Alastair wasted no time in jumping off the ship, landing in the water. “By the bloody hounds, MacGuinnes, ye need to build a longer ramp.”
    “Get your arse up here and help me build it then.” Taking Alastair’s arm, he pulled him onto the dock.
    “Back so soon, MacKay?”
    “Not planned,” he replied, scraping off bits of seaweed from his boots.
    The MacGuinnes arched a brow in question.
    “I need several horses and a guide.”
    The man stepped closer. “For what purpose?”
    Alastair turned and pointed at her. “To take back this woman to the O’Quinlan, his kin.”
    She saw the man suddenly open his mouth in shock, and then snapped it shut. He moved past Alastair and extended his hand out to her as Gunnar helped her down. “And does this O’Quinlan have a first name?”
    “Fiona,” she responded.
    Placing a kiss on her hand, he released her. “I am Thomas MacGuinnes, and ye are most welcome here, Fiona. Especially one who is kin to Niall.”
    Flustered, she replied, “I don’t know any Niall O’Quinlan. All my relations are dead.”
    He rubbed a hand across his beard as if in thought. Then his face contorted into a frown. Perhaps she should not have said anything. “Why is she dressed like this, MacKay?”
    She snapped her gaze back to Alastair who had his arms crossed over his chest, showing no sign of anything . “’Tis clothing that was on her when I bought her.”
    “Bought her?” roared Thomas.
    “Aye.”
    “Since when did ye start buying slaves? For if this is a new business, ye can remove yourselves from my land.”
    Fiona could see movement in back of Alastair. One of Thomas’s men had slowly put his hand on his sword. Apparently, she was not the only one who took notice.
    “If I were ye, I would tell your man to sheath his sword, lest I put my dirk in him.”
    She could see the glint of steel hidden