Free Come the Morning by Heather Graham

free.”
    â€œAvoid him? Avoid?”
    â€œAll right … escape him.”
    â€œWhat?” Jillian rose, watching as Mellyora moved quickly about the room.
    â€œIf I escape him,” Mellyora called over her shoulder, for she had found a window crevice within which to crawl, “I am free.”
    â€œThe king said this?”
    â€œI have just left the king,” Mellyora hedged. “It is what will be.”
    â€œYou’re so certain?”
    Mellyora withdrew from her window nook to come back into the room again. “If I escape him, I can see to it that he and I actually negotiate, and bargain, and then, he must keep his part of a bargain. My uncle Daro, jarl of Skul Island, is here in Stirling. Called to a meeting with the king. I’ll appeal to his men, and he’ll see to it that I cleanly escape until our good King David is forced to see reason.”
    â€œMellyora, kings are seldom forced to see reason—”
    Mellyora shook her head firmly. “I disagree. Kings are often forced to see reason—most often, it is upon a battlefield when they discover that their many men cannot beat another king’s men! Look at our country, how so many very different sections are now ruled by one king of Scotland. This is partially through the will of the people who interbred and shared the space, and it is also partly because one king became more powerful than the others. He should listen to me—I could be a threat to him. God knows, enough of the outer isles are ruled by Vikings.”
    â€œMellyora, I know that you are well aware of the history of our country. Most of these people you speak about have been here for hundreds of years, but the Vikings often remain separate, and as you say, they rule many of the islands. King David is wary of your Viking relations as it is, Mellyora. Yes, you are a danger. Become too great a danger, and he will crush you before he lets you threaten him,” Jillian warned carefully. “Please, you simply must take a good long look at your situation and realize that the king has no choice but to step in and decide your fate.”
    Mellyora paused, watching Jillian. She was sorry to see her so distressed, yet at a loss as to why she couldn’t make her understand her position.
    She bit into her lower lip, dismayed by the sudden, almost overwhelming desire to burst into tears that seized her. She could not believe that her father had died. She had loved him dearly, the world was so empty without him. She’d never known anyone quite like him. Adin had possessed the strength of ten men; he had been born a Viking. Yet his greatest power had always been his intelligence, his greatest strength, his gentleness. He had talked to her endlessly about her mother, keeping her alive through the years for Mellyora. He had attracted warriors, priests, artists, and poets to their home, he had made their great hall one of the most hospitable residences in all of the country. He had taught her to ride, to defend herself with a sword, even how to wield a heavy crossbow. Through his eyes, she had seen their world, as it had been. He had taught her that all men and women were worthy of interest and respect, no matter what their beliefs or the land or circumstances of their birth. From him, she had learned that friends were priceless, and that power and riches were gifts and responsibilities, and that she must always take care of those who called her lady, rather than seek for them to take care of her. He had loved her, taught her strength, kindness, independence, just as her mother, who had been uniquely wonderful as well, had taught her to have spirit, to believe in herself. She had given her a taste of a different magic, telling her the ancient Gaelic tales, and showing her the beauty of Celtic crafts. She’d been blessed with a lilting laugh, and flashing eyes, and a smile that was as warm and brilliant as the sun. She’d been proud and assured, a