Trial of a Warrior

by Mary Morgan

Abela darted a glance at him. “You and I discussed other items of interest. Conn was not on the agenda.”

  He halted in front of her, causing her to stumble and slam into his chest. “What exactly was on your agenda, Abela?”

  “You didn’t have to step in front of me,” she protested, embarrassed by his question. Not sure how to answer him, she stepped around him and proceeded toward the stones.

  However, the man was swifter and reached for her hand. “Was it a game for you in the beginning? Was that your agenda? If you couldn’t train with a warrior, why not toy with one?”

  Abela tried to pull free. “Game? I don’t know what you’re referring to. We teased, flirted, and enjoyed each other’s company, then simply moved on.”

  Liam’s expression stilled and grew serious. “So I meant nothing to you?”

  She squirmed under his gaze. The man asked too many questions she was unprepared to answer. “I’d like to reach the stones before nightfall.”

  He dropped her hand as if he had been burned. “By your refusal to answer my question, I can assume I speak the truth.”

  “Can we not discuss our past, please? It was so long ago. You left for the Brotherhood and I…well, I became a priestess.” She tried to soften her reasoning and reached for his hand. “Let us not quarrel, Liam. Not only is time fleeting, but precious. The past is gone—”

  “For us,” he interjected sternly. “And we had no chance to write a future. Let me be clear, Abela. I teased, flirted, and enjoyed only the sexual contentment of other Fae in the Pleasure Gardens. That is where I played my games. It meant nothing more. As for you, let me say that we shall never find where the road might have led.”

  Abela released his hand, the pain of his words opening a wound she thought scarred over and healed. She knew about his time in the Pleasure Gardens. She knew about his sexual tastes and prowess.

  And she knew Liam MacGregor was the only one who could fulfill her every fantasy. Had she meant more to him than she perceived?

  A pity their relationship had ended too soon.

  Chapter Seven

  “Training can harness and improve the body and mind, but the heart cannot be shielded or protected from the onslaught of love.”

  ~Chronicles of Liam MacGregor

  Why did he find Abela’s words disturbing? Because you believed there was more at the time and you were the fool. Liam bristled at his own thoughts. No matter how much he remained focused, she wove herself under his skin. He required absolute concentration. Their mission was risky and filled with danger. There was no time for lustful thoughts or conversations regarding their past. It was over. Dead.

  Though he did ponder why she risked everything to break him out of his prison. Abela had a talent for avoiding pertinent questions or situations she was unable to dictate. It was an irritating side to her character. Regardless, they had a mission to fulfill. There was no point in dredging up ancient memories. It only complicated their circumstances.

  As they approached the stones, Liam withdrew his blade. This time Abela understood and held out her hand for him to make the incision.

  Afterward, she let a few droplets of blood grace the bottom of the largest stone.

  Liam sheathed his sword. “Keep your focus on the Dragon Knights of Urquhart. Again, do not deviate from our path in the abyss.”

  “I am ready.” Abela blew across her palm, sealing the wound. Withdrawing her pendant, she nodded to him.

  He tensed in preparation. As he spoke the ancient words, the air stilled, and the ground remained silent. His voice grew louder with each chant, letting the power build. When the swirling vortex opened, Liam grasped her hand and moved forward.

  The mists shimmered before them. “Push the thought of the Dragon Knights forward beyond the haze.

  Abela stumbled. “Pain.”

  “Ignore and concentrate,” he ordered.

  The Stone of Ages glowed as she held it outward. Again, her steps faltered. Liam wrapped an arm around her waist as he fought the whispered sounds of the other realms around them. A tendril of song flitted nearby, and he ignored its luring melody. “We’re almost there,” he encouraged, dragging her forward.

  She let out a strangled cry as the mists parted and an internal blast of energy propelled them through the abyss. Liam tried to hold on to her, but the force separated them. He tumbled past the stones, smacking into a pine tree. He quickly brought himself to standing and scanned the area. Abela was on her knees, emptying what little she had in her stomach onto the muddy ground.

  He rushed to her side and collapsed next to her. Placing a soothing hand on the back of her neck, Liam spoke healing words.

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m so weak.”

  Liam rolled her onto his lap. Worry infused him. Her features were pale and drawn. “Was the pain worse this time?”

  “Yes.” She coughed and attempted to scoot away from him.

  “No. Stay and rest until you have gathered your strength.”

  She gave him a skeptical look. “Why are you not feeling the same?”

  He gave her a wink. “Fenian Warrior, remember?”

  “But you are without your powers,” she argued, rubbing the heel of her palms against her eyes.

  Liam continued to massage her neck. “I had training. I am able to block out the pain and harness the energy to stay strong.”

  Abela frowned. “It was worse this time. I thought my heart was going to stop beating. The air in my lungs pressed like a vise against my chest.”

  Guilt plagued Liam. What if traveling through the Veil brought harm to her. “Perhaps we should wait twenty-four hours before we journey to the next time-period.”

  “Absolutely not,” she protested and pushed away from him.

  Liam stood, bringing her with him. “I deem it a wise decision. A few days here or there will not hamper our plans.”

  “Regardless, was it not you that had no desire to be caught with me? I can only shield us for so long.” She brushed the dirt and leaves from her cloak.

  Stunned, he turned her around to face him. “You are shielding us? By the Gods, no wonder you are weak!”

  She shrugged. “I am feeling better, so we can continue.”

  “Is there anything else I need to know, Abela?”

  “I have now told you everything, so wipe that scowl off your face.” She glanced around the area. “Where is Urquhart?”

  Liam pointed in the direction over her shoulder. “North, by the loch.”

  “Perfect.” She reached for his hand. “Are you ready?”

  “Maybe we should walk part of the way,” Liam suggested, moving away from her.

  She looked affronted. “I am much better.”

  You’re as stubborn as your brother. Liam stepped over a fallen log and surveyed the area. The trees were different. He knew this land well. Abela continued to march down the hill. His mouth clenched as he digested the news of their surroundings. “Stop!”

  She shot him a haughty glare. “What now?”

  Liam made quick strides to her. “We are in the wrong century.”

  “Sweet Mother Danu,” she whispered. “Are you certain?”

  “Absolutely. And it’s spring, not winter.”

  Abela grimaced as she retraced her steps back to the stones.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To take us back,” she responded tersely.

  “No.”

  She halted, and her stance became rigid. Liam sensed the wave of anger from where he stood. “I am strong enough.”

  Liam seriously doubted she was powerful enough to make another journey so soon, but he was not about to argue. The constant sparring of words left him frustrated and wanting to do certain pleasurable things to her body. An idea blossomed, and he smiled. “Would you care to visit Aidan’s daughter, Aileen?”

  When she turned around, Abela fought to contain her surprise. “Is this her time in which we have landed?”

  Liam nodded. �
�Your thoughts must have been on our earlier conversation, and this is where your power directed us.”

  Abela dashed down the hill. “How fortuitous,” she blurted out, passing by him.

  Her enthusiasm was barely contained, and it wove a thread through Liam. Perchance this was a more suitable destination. They were traveling between centuries, thwarting any attempts of the Fae to find them. He made rapid strides toward her. “Let us walk part of the way and then I will have you take us to the entrance magically.”

  “Perfect.” She brushed her hand over a group of tall wildflowers. “Ahh…beauty and rebirth in spring. The air smells divine.” She cast him a sideways glance. “Isn’t this better than the harshness of winter?”

  Liam noted the rosy glow to her cheeks, relieved all traces of her earlier condition were now gone. “If I recall, spring is your favorite season.”

  Her mouth slacked open in awe. “You remember?”

  “Did I not just say so?” he countered and sprinted ahead. Coming to a cluster of violets, Liam bent and plucked one. As she drew near, he held the flower out to her. “And I believe these are your favorite, though their color is far more opulent in our realm.”

  Abela’s hand brushed against his as she took the violet. “Yes…yes they are.”

  He watched as she twirled the tiny flower between her fingers. “Their hue is no match for the color of your own eyes.”

  She squirmed under his gaze. “As you once stated,” she whispered.

  The air grew warm around Liam. Claim one kiss. He took a step forward. “My favorite season is summer, especially Midsummer. When the fields are ripe with flora and the air is heady with their scent.”

  “A time of planting more seeds and joining with the land,” Abela added.

  Liam walked in a circle around her, a dance of seduction as old as time. “It is one that calls out to us.” He tugged gently on her braid. “The seeds of life are planted within the womb.”

  She followed him with her eyes as he came to stand mere inches in front of her. Placing a hand on his chest, she said, “Spring and summer’s luring song is one that is hard to ignore.” Her tongue darted out, tempting him beyond reason.

  Desire shot through Liam’s veins. As he dipped his head to feast on what he dared not take, the screeching of a bird startled them both.

  Abela was the first to withdraw and shielded her eyes to gaze upward. “Angry bird.”

  Liam surveyed the hawk, trying to control his lustful inner beast. He was beginning to hate all the seasons. “Shall we proceed?”

  Did he detect hurt within her eyes when she glanced his way? Regardless, Liam had to regain his control. His behavior was one of a callow youth and not a hardened warrior. He gestured her forward. “When we get to the water, you can transport us the rest of the way.”

  Without a word, Abela stepped past him.

  Several hours later, they approached the loch. Sunlight glistened like gems over the water. The energy of the Great Dragon brushed over him. She grew curious, not angry, and Liam walked to the edge of the water.

  “Great Goddess,” Abela whispered. “This is where she dwells?”

  Liam knelt on one knee. “Yes.” He fisted his hand over his heart. “Greetings, Great One. I cannot pass by without paying my respects, for I do not know when I shall again.”

  The Great Dragon rose in an arc of glittering jeweled colors. “Welcome, Fenian Warrior.”

  Abela removed her cloak and pulled her boots off. Stepping inside the loch to her ankles, she opened her arms wide. “Greetings, Great Dragon—Finola Fyean mo ghrá. Do you remember me?”

  The Great Dragon bobbed gently with the rhythm of the water. “Yes, Priestess Abela. Welcome, daughter of King Ansgar and Queen Nuala.”

  Shaking her head, Abela whispered, “I am no longer called by that name.”

  “Until Mother Danu releases you, this is your name. Why do you journey with the Fenian Warrior?”

  “To resolve an issue with The Treaty of Feahan,” Liam interjected and stood.

  “A dangerous path you have chosen, Fenian Warrior. Nevertheless, the question has yet to be answered fully by the princess.”

  If he revealed more of their situation, whispers of their conversation might travel to those in the kingdom. Even though the dragon spoke within his mind, he did not want to tempt fate. Liam walked a path of indecision—one he did not understand himself.

  “I deemed it my duty, Great One,” Abela blurted out. “My destiny was shown to me in a vision. I beg you to keep this wisdom within your own heart. As I’m sure you have seen within mine and know the truth.” Abela dipped her fingers into the water. “Tell Mother Danu I have not forgotten.”

  Silence greeted them both as they waited patiently for her to speak.

  “You run in the shadows without permission. You dare to walk in the light, refusing to grasp the emotion. Sorrow reigns and only the truth shall set you both free. Your mind clouds the decisions of your heart and you refuse to accept the inevitable. The timekeepers have recorded the journey. Others shall follow.”

  Heavy mists gathered around the dragon as she descended back within the water.

  Her parting words sent a stinging arrow to Liam’s heart, and the air cooled considerably. He had no time to contemplate her wisdom.

  Lowering her head, Abela let out a choked sob. “I have failed her.”

  “Then let us right the wrong,” Liam offered, and reached for her hand.

  She lifted her head. “Even you railed against my idea in the beginning. Why are you fighting to resolve this?”

  “Fenian lesson number one. When you make a choice, follow through to completion. Do not waver. Do not question your reasoning. If you continue to plague yourself with doubts, the mission will fail.”

  Her luminous eyes widened in astonishment. “There shall be no more talk of failing,” she stated with conviction and retrieved her cloak and boots.

  Returning to his side, she grasped his hand and they vanished within the mists.

  When they emerged by the ancient oak outside the gates of Urquhart, Abela hastily changed into presentable clothing and fashioned her hair. Liam tried to hide the mirth from his features. He found this quality endearing as she was now fashioned in a pale green gown, trimmed in silver knotwork along all the edges of the material. Her hair cascaded in soft waves down her back to her bottom, and Liam had to settle his sight elsewhere.

  “Do you not wish to present yourself as a Fenian Warrior to the Dragon Knights?” she asked, her tone commanding.

  Liam searched for a plausible explanation. Rubbing a hand over his chin, he sighed. “These knights are my friends. The last time I came unannounced, it was to ask for their help in the last battle against the evil druid, Lachlan. Conn, Rory, and I stood here in our royal garments. I have no desire to do so again.” He turned toward her. “Do not worry, Abela. I do not intend to ask questions concerning my brother or yours. We tread on dangerous ground within the timelines.”

  Her face clouded with uneasiness. “Are you fearful of the year? Should I not enter first?”

  “No. I have searched the castle. The children are older, and a couple of the wives are heavy with bairns. We are safe, though I will introduce you as Abela and not as the princess. These Dragon Knights were never made aware of your brother’s heritage.”

  Abela surprised him by tucking her hand in the crook of his arm. “Then let us go greet these good people.”

  As they approached the gates, one of the guards stepped forth. “Do my eyes deceive me, Liam MacGregor? Are ye truly here?”

  “Your sight is correct, Matthew. It is good to see you are still here with the Dragon Knights.”

  Matthew swept his gaze toward Abela. His mouth gaped open, and then he snapped it shut. “Have ye married?”

  Abela’s body shook as she attempted to contain her laughter. “The warrior has agreed to a marriage pact.”

  Liam inwardly groaned. “We seek entry into Urquhart, so if you woul
d be so kind as to alert Angus.”

  The guard rubbed a hand over his nose. “Ye need no permission. After the last battle, all Fenian Warriors were granted access. Ye will find the laird in the Great Hall or his solar.”

  “Thank you.” Liam escorted Abela through the main gate and into the bailey.

  A heated debate greeted them, and they both halted at the commotion that ensued near several horses. Liam nudged Abela and placed a finger over his mouth for her to remain silent.

  “I cannot believe you’re keeping me from riding out along the loch. I can still manage to mount my horse, so quit acting medieval,” protested Aileen, before poking her husband, Stephan, in the arm.

  “Ye keep spouting the word medieval, which ye have explained its meaning, but I refuse to have ye bring harm to ye or our bairn—”

  “By riding a horse?” She tapped her foot in obvious irritation.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Might I remind ye that ye fell from said animal several months ago.”

  She gave an impatient shrug. “I had not broken my fast. I got dizzy.”

  Stephen reached for her, and she stiffened. “Can ye not take an easy walk?” His voice softened, and he trailed a finger over her cheek. “It would soothe my fears.”

  Aileen’s features softened. “Why must you worry? I am strong and if you recall, I carried two at once the last time I was with child.”

  Grasping her around the waist, he nuzzled her neck. “Husbands always fear for their wives. I have another suggestion.”

  “I can only guess.” Aileen chuckled low and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Liam determined it was time to announce their presence. Coughing into his fist, he waited for the couple to turn toward them.

  Shock registered on both their faces. Aileen was the first to withdraw from her husband’s embrace. With her arms outstretched, she ran to him. “By the Goddess! Liam MacGregor!”

  He captured the woman, embracing her in hug. “Happy to see you, too, Lady Aileen. Might I add my congratulations on the impending birth?”

  She drew back and studied him. Her eyes misted with unshed tears. “The trial? It’s over?”

  “We are working to resolve the issue,” Abela responded.