by D. E. Morris
“A simple stomach bug,” Killian assured. “She will be back in your services before you know it.
“Good.” Ashlynn gave a sad smile. “I miss my ladies. All of them.”
Killian nodded his understanding. “I am certain the feeling is mutual. You will all be together again soon, surely.” He eyed her, more at ease with her without so many people watching his every move. “How are you feeling?”
“Physically, I have not felt this wonderful since before...well...” She trailed off, knowing he would understand what she didn't want to say, that she hadn't felt this good since before her first trip to the Isle of Contest. “Otherwise, I am doing my best to remain in one piece.”
“You are doing it all with grace, as always.”
The corners of her lips turned up in an easy manner, sharing his comfort with the lack of an audience, enjoying their friendship. “Thank you, Killian. I can always count on you for flattery when I am in need of a boost to my fragile ego.”
He chuckled, his ever-solemn features lightening in a rare moment of levity. “Of the rare qualities you possess that are fragile, Your Majesty, your ego is not among them.”
“Killian O'Cleary,” she laughed, “I could have you flogged for that comment.”
“You could.” He slid his eyes toward her, half a grin on his face. “But I do not think you will.” She fought returning his grin and lost.
“Mother, when we pass the gate, can we race?”
Ashlynn turned her smirk to her son, meeting the hopeful raise of his brows as he twisted in his saddle to look back at her. “That is up to our guard, love. As much as I would like nothing more than to speed across the plains with you, they know better than I whether it is safe or not.”
Eyes opening even wider and brows elevating more, Lochlainn turned his expectant gaze on Killian. The older man chuckled and nodded, holding his reins loosely. “Yes, Your Highness, you may race, so long as you keep your wits about you. Your mare is still unfamiliar to you and may want to test you. Remember your training – what to do if she starts to buck, if she scrambles or spooks. Always keep me or one of my men in your line of sight. If you see us motioning to you, fall behind us. Do not ask questions, just obey. Is that clear?”
Ashlynn looked to her son to make sure he understood, inwardly smiling when he bobbed his head. When Killian then regarded her to silently give her the same commands, she nodded, her own brows raised, unable to maintain eye contact for fear of bursting out in laughter. “Yes, of course,” she agreed, fighting to keep herself serious.
“I know how hard it is for you to follow someone else's orders.”
Lochlainn turned around in his saddle with a giggle, seeing the color rise in his mother's cheeks.
Almost as soon as they passed the gates, the young boy pulled on the reins to halt his horse, waiting for his mother to line up beside him. The two guards rode on ahead at Killian's order, one going right and the other going left, hugging a designated perimeter, while Killian waited a moment to ride out directly ahead of them. He frowned to himself, eyeing the gate, but Ashlynn gave him a smile of reassurance. “Stop second guessing your decisions, Killian. We needed no more than two other men. They are doing a fine job of scouting around us and you will go before us. There is no need to fear anyone coming from behind us and if someone happens to appear...” She glanced down at her waist, a smug smirk upon her lips as she touched one of two fans hanging from her belt. “I am not as unarmed as I would seem, thanks to Misuzu.”
His eyes narrowed just a fraction. “You have learned the fanblades? That is a uniquely difficult weapon to master. Even I have yet to achieve confidence with them.”
“She can barely move them without dropping them or cutting herself,” Lochlainn revealed, gaining him a scathing growl from his mother.
“Traitor.” Returning her attention to Killian, she smiled broadly. “We'll be fine. Go on, we'll be right behind you.”
Though he was reluctant, he turned his horse around and started forward at a canter. Before he picked up his pace, he watched one guard until he was given the signal that all was well – a simple raise of an arm – then looked to the other for the same sign before digging his heels into the ribs of his steed. The gelding gave a sharp whinny as though he'd been waiting for his moment and shot forward, speeding across the open plain in a blur, kicking up loose clumps of grass and soil in its wake.
“I'll give you a head start,” Ashlynn said smartly with a tilt of her chin, making Lochlainn set his jaw.
“Why?”
“Snow Steps is a racer. He's the fastest horse in the kingdom. It wouldn't be fair if we went at the same time.” She nodded toward Killian. “If we left now, he and I would even beat Killian to the tree line over there.”
Lochlainn made a face and dropped his head to the side. “You would not.”
Ashlynn's brows rose. “You don't think so?”
“Nope. I know Snow Steps is fast, but not that fast.”
She stroked her horse's dark neck and grinned. “All right, my boy. Try to keep up, will you?” Lochlainn's face split into a wide smile and he gripped his reins, leaning forward in his saddle. “Ready?” Ashlynn asked. He nodded. “Go!” The horses both took off at the same time, though it was only a matter of seconds before Snow Steps edged out the boy's mare. He hollered behind her but Ashlynn was unmerciful, her horse only too happy to get to fly across the landscape at top speed. It was rare that he was allowed such freedom and both animal and rider were going to take full advantage of the moment. Lochlainn's protests turned into raucous laughter when he saw Killian turn in surprise. A whistle from him brought his men back around, circling wide before coming in to cross before Lochlainn, then turn once more to flank their prince and run as his escort. As Ashlynn sped past Killian, the older man gave his own horse a commanding kick and zipped after her.
She could have won easily, at least a hundred yards ahead of Killian and a great deal more than that ahead of her son, but Ashlynn kept her head about her even in the euphoria of her small glimpse of independence. The forest looming before her provided many a place for dangers to lurk. Getting too close with no one to scout ahead was dangerous. She didn't need anyone to tell her that. Before Killian even had time to shout a reprimand at her back, she pulled on the reins and guided Snow Steps to the right, turning him south and slowing him in his gait as he circled around so that the others could catch up.
“That was borderline reckless,” she murmured, reading Killian's pinched expression as he drew up to where she came to a pause. “I stopped before I was too close to the woods.”
“Your Majesty...”
She exasperated him so often, it was a wonder he stuck around. “I know. I'm sorry.”
“I will be putting in for a raise.”
“And you will get one.” She broke into a grin as Lochlainn and the guards finally caught up, beaming. “Well? How does she run?”
“Brilliant! Though not as fast as Snow Steps, just like you said. You looked like you were flying! Can I ride him on the way back?”
“We'll see. Come, let's walk to the lake and have a picnic.”
They both behaved this time, walking side by side with Killian a fair distance ahead while the guards followed far enough behind to give them privacy. For a time they shared simple idle chatter, Ashlynn keeping the conversation light on purpose. Her son had a tendency to lean toward the serious side on a good day. Since the summit and the games, it felt as though everything had been far too heavy. He was so young, but in weeks it was as though he has aged a handful of years right before her eyes, and it made her heart ache.
A soft gasp beside her pulled Ashlynn from her thoughts, She glanced over at her son with concern to find his eyes transfixed on the sky in the distance. Following his gaze, she sucked in a breath as well. A living flame was coming their way in the shape of a dragon and she knew, without a doubt, that it was Badru. Beside him, smaller and mostly ruby red against the blue sky, was the familiar dracon
ic form of Mairead. “Killian!” He immediately pulled his horse around at Ashlynn's call and reached for his sword, but she pointed over his head. “Look!”
They were coming in quickly, flying in a fevered manner that suggested they were exhausted and had been pushing themselves too far. Lochlainn pulled his feet from the stirrups and gathered his legs under himself before standing shakily on top of the saddle to wave his arms over his head. Ashlynn was quick to reach over and grab the mare's bridle to keep her from bolting, sparking a half-hearted chide for her son, but her attention quickly returned to her friends in the hope that they saw him. The dragons were flying in the direction of Altaine, but with Lochlainn's flailing and yelling, one of them gave a small cry before both of them turned and came soaring in the direction of the small party in the valley.
“Okay,” Ashlynn said hurriedly, “they saw you. Get down so we can give them some room.” Lochlainn dropped down into his saddle and everyone moved out of the way, watching as the two dragons came in for a landing, a small black bird accompanying them. They barely had time to shift before Lochlainn's feet were on the ground. He raced across the open grass toward Mairead, stumbling once over his own feet. It gave her just enough time to crouch and steady herself, bracing for the impact of when he reached her and threw his arms around her neck. Though she appeared utterly drained, she gave a weary smile as she wrapped her arms around him.
“Are you all right?” he asked, squeezing her tighter when she would let him go.
His fervent affection touched her and she kissed the side of her head before ruffling his already unruly hair. “I will be.”
Ashlynn embraced Badru, looking him over for injury before doing the same to Ories. “We were so worried. Mairead, you're covered in blood.”
“It is not my own,” she said, her voice hollow. She held Lochlainn's hand in her own as she stood up. “Lilia and Connor?”
“They're here; they're safe. Your scars...”
Nodding, she let her gaze fall to the ground as though ashamed and said nothing. Instead of pressing the matter, Ashlynn returned to Badru once more and took his face in her hands. “What happened?”
“I felt like you were scared and in trouble,” Lochlainn said to Mairead before Badru could answer. It prompted the old man to turn, his brows lifting in quiet surprise.
“I experienced much the same myself. It was how I knew where to find you.”
Mairead's brow wrinkled in confusion and she glanced between Badru and Ories. “I thought that the two of you had come to the village together.”
The winged man shook his head before lifting his chin toward Ashlynn. “My queen sent a company of us down several days ago to watch over you at the behest of your own queen. I did not even know Badru's whereabouts.”
“And I was not aware the Volar had a presence in the village.” Badru turned and extended a hand, taking Ories by the forearm. “But I must say that I am glad of it.”
“Did you see what happened, then?” asked Mairead with urgency, “when Rhiamon put her spell on me?”
Ories shook his head once more, the edges of his lips curling downward. “When the poultice was put on your face, she muttered some words I had never heard before and you appeared to fall asleep. She seemed surprised that it happened, but she did not try to rouse you, only watched over you while you were under. Your scars faded within seconds of your awakening.”
Mairead chewed on her bottom lip. “I was terrified while I was under her spell and for a moment, I did feel like I was in trouble. That was only minutes before I saw Badru in the sky.”
“And minutes before I was there. I came as soon as I felt...whatever it was that I felt.”
Ashlynn peered at him with confusion. “How is that possible? How could you – how could Lochlainn have felt what Mairead felt?”
The weathered old man slid his eyes toward the young fire dragon. “I have some theories,” he revealed quietly, eyeing her with reservation, “but I would like to discuss them with Cavalon before I say much more.”
Ories nodded, taking the ominous words as his cue. “I need to return to Braemar to make sure the rest of my clan made it home safely as it is, and to see how the situation with the purge is going.”
“What purge?” asked Mairead.
“I will tell Cavalon to visit Altaine as soon as he finds a spare moment,” said Ories, ignoring the question at a glance from Ashlynn.
“Thank you for all your help,” she impressed. He gave her no verbal reply, only a curt nod of his head before shifting once more and returning to the skies. Taking a slow, deep breath, Ashlynn ran a comforting hand down Badru's arm. “Let's go back to the castle.”
A wordless command from Killian had the two guards giving up their mounts so that Badru and Mairead wouldn't have to walk back or ride with anyone else. It would be a much slower trip back than it had been racing out across the valley. Something told Ashlynn that both Mairead and Badru would need this time of peace to gather their thoughts before they were bombarded with well-meaning loved ones and a thousand different questions. She had many of her own that she wanted to ask, but it was easy to see just how drained both of her friends were by simply looking at them. The flight down to Cieria was long enough to merit a few lengthy breaks so as to avoid the ever-present pull to the feral side for a Gael; she wondered if their desperation to get away had been so great that they had pushed themselves to their limit to get to Altaine without so much as a single stop. Was it even possible for someone so young and ordinary as Mairead?
With the two men on foot walking ahead, Mairead rode behind them with Lochlainn and Badru flanking her just a few paces back. Killian and Ashlynn brought up the rear, their horses side by side. She took it all in, saying nothing for a time, but intentional as she made Snow Steps slow his gait just a little. Killian did the same with his horse without so much as looking to her in question, simply following her lead. “It's interesting, isn't it?” she asked softly when she felt they were a safe enough distance back.
“Their formation?” He nodded. “They ride with her at their head as though she is their queen and they are her protectors, all falling into place with no verbal communication as though it were the natural thing to do.”
“I have never heard of Gaels sharing feelings like that before. Thoughts, of course. Visions, yes, with the skilled, but feelings?” Ashlynn furrowed her brow. “The only time that happens is with an Elemental and it comes with injury or death to an opposite, sometimes elation if it is great enough, or a surge of power, but nothing like this.”
Killian frowned. “As much as I know about them, I have never heard of this sort of thing myself outside of the Elementals. I could accept Badru having some sort of connection to Lady Mairead given that she is of the fire element, but that does not explain the prince's reaction or why Badru has been acting...” He trailed off, searching for the right word, but Ashlynn nodded.
“Off. I know. It's like he's simultaneously drawn to Mairead and doesn't want to get too close at the same time. He's never been like that before.”
“Maybe we will get some answers once they have had time to rest.”
No one spoke another word the entire journey back up to the castle. Vigilance was always in the minds of those whose job it was to keep those of the royal household safe, but the others moved on in a slow steady pace, as if they had all the time in the world. No one noticed that their party had picked up two more members when they came back through the gate of the outer wall. It was only when Mairead dismounted and one of the courtiers took noticed of her oddly fashioned bloodstained dress that chatter began. She looked around the courtyard and up at the castle balconies and open walkways, wrapping her arms around herself as if cold, vulnerability on her face.
“Come, my lady,” said Killian. He pulled the blanket that had been packed for the picnic from one of the saddlebags to drape it around her shoulders in a protective manner. “Let us get you inside.” Servants hurried forward to take the horses and the g
uards fell into step behind the party as they made their way into the castle.
Ashlynn put her arms around Mairead as much to keep the blanket from falling away from her as to try to shield her from the watchful eyes that were multiplying with each step they took. There was nothing to be done about it, she knew all too well; anything out of the ordinary drew instant and immediate attention, and there wasn't anyone at Altaine that was not aware of the fact that Ashlynn was without her usual ladies. To have one of them turning up all of a sudden, covered in blood, would of course spread quickly.
“Lochlainn, go find your father,” Ashlynn told her son in a hushed voice. “Tell him that we have returned and that Badru and Mairead are with us.”
He frowned up at his mother, his eyes full of worry. “I don't want to leave Mairead.”
“She will be just fine with me,” she insisted firmly. “Off you pop.” The boy bit down on a grumble and scurried off, one of the guards following after him. “Killian, would you please escort Badru to his usual chambers?”
The dark-skinned man gave her a drawn smirk and shook his head. “I am fairly certain that I can find my way there by myself, Ashlynn. All I require is some rest and I will be well in a few hours.”
Her gaze up at him was reserved. “Given all that has happened lately, my friend, I would rather not take any chances. All the rest you require will be given to you freely, but so shall an escort and a guard at your door.”
“Mairead?”
They were not yet halfway to Ashlynn's chambers when their attention was pulled down toward the end of the intersecting hallways. Connor and Cailin were coming toward them with Niam walking several paces ahead. Knowing Mairead's fragile state of mind and her distaste of public shows of affection, Ashlynn's arms snaked a little tighter around her friend. Much to her surprise, the younger woman slipped from her grip and moved forward so quickly toward Niam that the blanket fluttered from her shoulders and fell to the ground in a heap behind her.
The pair met in the middle of the hall and embraced as though they were the only ones about. Niam encircled her waist, barely pausing at the sight of blood upon her, holding her as close to him as he possibly could. When she buried her face in the crook of his neck and began to cry, he cradled her head against him and whispered soothing words, oblivious to his audience. “It's okay,” he told her, his voice just loud enough to carry. “It's okay. I've got you.”