Trial of a Warrior

by Mary Morgan

  The grave look Conn gave Liam only confirmed the worst scenario.

  “Abela is dying. Any member of the royal family, except me, cannot travel above. It was part of the pact with the Milesians when we were sent underground after the great battle in Ireland. Though if the king knew of her situation, I believe he would enter this world and risk ending the life of everyone involved to rescue his daughter. I cannot fathom how the other Fae are maintaining their position above ground, unless they remain for brief periods of time here.” Conn lifted his hand, and the crystal cuffs vanished from around Liam’s wrists.

  Liam rubbed his wrists in an effort to bring back the blood flow into his hands. He tried to ignore the agonizing fear swelling inside his heart of possibly losing Abela and refused to let panic cloud his warrior instincts. They would find her. “Then we waste time talking.”

  Conn pinched the bridge of his nose. “For now you have your freedom. Though once we have found Abela, you will be sent back to your prison.” He glanced at Liam. “Those are not my orders, but our king's.”

  Liam chose to remain silent, though he noted a questioning look on his brother’s face. “Is there something you wish to ask?”

  “Why did they separate you two?” inquired Rory.

  “Apparently their Fae contact did not show up at the appointed time. They grew worried and decided to proceed with their alternate plan.”

  “Which is what?” inquired Taran, handing Liam a dirk.

  Taking the blade and securing it within his belt at his waist, Liam responded, “To barter the princess for wealth.”

  “You do realize they have ignited a war by abducting Abela,” acknowledged Conn.

  Liam scanned the area, searching for his sword that one of the men discarded when they arrived. Quickly retrieving it, he returned to Conn’s side. “Her rescue is imperative. If we can squelch this insanity and capture the Fae involved, then we can thwart a threat of war between our worlds.”

  Sheathing his sword, Conn adjusted his tunic. “My father’s wrath will be far greater when he finds out there were traitorous Fae involved.”

  Liam said no more as he went to the last known place Abela had rested her body. He knelt on the ground and brushed his hand over the soft grass. Closing his eyes, he waited. When the first flutter of her heartbeat swept across his mind, Liam smiled and stood. “We shall proceed south.”

  “Can you be more specific?” asked Conn.

  “Unless you are prepared to grant me my full powers, I cannot tell you exactly where she is located.”

  “Do you take me for a fool?”

  “Regardless of no powers, I am still a Fenian Warrior,” Liam argued. He grew tired of this sparring of words. “On my honor, once we have found Abela, I vow to return to my prison and await my trial.”

  Conn narrowed his eyes. Making a sign within the air, a blue crystal dagger appeared in his hand. “Bow your head and kneel.”

  Liam quickly complied. As Conn’s first words entered his mind, the brush of power filled his body and mind. Inhaling deeply, the energy of his additional Fenian powers flowed to the depth of his soul. As he flexed his fingers, Liam placed his palms upon the ground. Walk with us, Mother Danu. Help us to find your daughter.

  Rising, Liam inclined his head toward Conn. “Thank you.”

  After Conn enclosed them in a sphere of white light, he motioned to Liam. “Lead us to her.”

  Liam lifted his head to the sky and uttered the ancient words to transport them. In a soft whisper they vanished.

  ****

  Abela blinked in an attempt to focus on her surroundings. Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy of trees and swept across the narrow path they traveled. Several rabbits dashed out of their way, and she tried to reach out mentally. However the pain and weakness in her limbs made the effort futile, and she finally relented.

  Her only hope of survival depended on Liam finding her. She almost burst into tears when she felt the brush of his thoughts enter her mind. But the euphoria was quickly doused when one of the men prodded her forward with his sword, and she was unable to respond.

  With shaking hands, she wiped her fingers across her slick brow. The fever continued to burn with a vengeance, and her vision became blurred.

  “I will not die,” she mumbled, and then burst out laughing. Who among her kidnappers cared?

  “Be quiet,” ordered the man behind her.

  She gave him a scathing look over her shoulder. “Why?”

  He lifted his hand as if to strike her and then clenched his fist. “Ye tempt fate, princess.”

  Shrugging, she returned her attention to the path in front of her. “I have done so all my life. If this is my ending, I shall not be silenced.”

  He grumbled a curse, but did not strike her.

  The path finally opened up, and Abela shielded her eyes from the sun’s intensity. More trees dotted the landscape around them as she staggered into the small clearing. Her mouth was parched, and the sun beat down upon her body. Fighting a wave of dizziness, she spouted, “Would any care to give me some water?”

  Unable to continue with this relentless march through the land, Abela collapsed onto the ground. She’d rather die within the arms of Mother Danu than at the hands of these barbarians. “I cannot go any farther without liquid.”

  Peter dismounted from his horse and signaled to several other men. He dashed to her side. “What is wrong with her?” he snapped.

  Her captor on her journey replied, “She is requesting more water.”

  “Then give her some! She is of no use to us if she dies!” Peter bellowed. “When she finishes, remove her out of sight. I will bargain with the Fae first.”

  The man grunted and removed his flask. Shoving it into her hands, he ordered, “Drink.”

  Abela removed the stopper and guzzled deeply. After wiping her mouth on her arm, she handed the flask back to the man. “Thank you.”

  Without a word, the man gripped her arm and yanked her to standing. “Move toward the trees.”

  Holding back the barb she wanted to fling out at him, Abela complied. The water did little to squelch the scorching fire within her, but at least her blurred vision had retreated. Crossing the clearing, she sighed as she retreated deep within the shade of the trees.

  “Ye can halt here,” he stated and pointed to one of the thick oak trees.

  After she slumped down against the rough bark, Abela placed her palms upon the ground. She tried to draw forth some healing energy, but the weakness in her body was too overwhelming. Abela cast her sight outward. What traitorous Fae was involved? Would she be able to detect the person?

  Voices drifted back to her, and she strained to pick up a note of familiarity.

  Pressing her back fully against the ancient oak, she reached out within its spirit and closed her eyes. Help me to part the limbs from the other trees, so that I may witness another. The energy swirled around her, and Abela concentrated with all her last remaining strength. When a gentle breeze kissed her cheeks, she opened her eyes.

  Through the thick tree limbs, a linear view appeared before her vision. Traveling along the path within her second sight, she sought the center of the clearing. Her breath hitched as the traitor Fae stepped into view. Never had she fathom one so highly regarded in their realm would plot against her father the king.

  She’d determined it was another lower Fae seeking recourse for some past deed done against him. Yet, this Fae was regarded and held a position of authority. When did her beautiful kingdom become divided? Had the prophecy truly begun? She recalled the stories from her mother and the seer. It would start with one high Fae—a division between above and below. Her mother had reassured her it would not take place in their life threads, but what if she was wrong? It could be what was happening now.

  Abela dug her hands into the soft dirt as deep sorrow mixed with anger filled her. Hurry, Liam. Time is fading for me and you must prevent a war.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  �
�It was foretold by a seer that if I ever witnessed the birth of a star, I would travel an unknown path. I did glimpse one on the celebration of my thousandth year of life.”

  ~Diary of Princess Abela

  Each of the Fenian Warriors steadily made their way across the open terrain. Conn kept them shielded from the humans as Liam led them onward to their destination. Lifting his fist to warn the others, Liam halted and scanned the area. The warriors fell behind him. Smoke billowed above the trees from a campfire, and the scent of charred meat permeated the area.

  “Is Abela with them?” asked Conn quietly.

  Closing his eyes, Liam concentrated. He gritted his teeth in frustration. “Someone is blocking our connection.”

  “Another Fae?” Conn withdrew his sword, glancing in all directions.

  Dropping to the ground, Liam pressed both palms on the dirt. After extending his powers as far as he was able, he waited and tried to curb his growing impatience. Hear my call. Feel my heart. I am coming for you, mo ghrá.

  From across the pulse of the land a light flutter of a heartbeat echoed back to him, and Liam exhaled slowly. He stood and faced Conn. “She is with them, but extremely weak. It took a great deal of energy for her to reach out to me.”

  Ronan appeared in a sliver of light. “All the royal households are secure.”

  “Any problems?” asked Conn.

  “None.”

  Taran stepped forward. “How should we proceed?”

  Conn brushed a hand over his chin. “We need to know the Fae involved, so that will be your task. Ronan, Rory, and I will battle the others.” Conn glanced at Liam. “Your responsibility is securing Abela and transporting her to my chambers. Do not deviate to any other place in the kingdom. All the royal households are under the protection of the Fenian Warriors. Once there, you will find a woman. Her name is Ivy. Have her send for the healer and the Master Fae Apothecary. Present her with these coded words, Celtic Knot. She will understand my message.”

  “She should be transported to the temple. They have the most experienced healers,” protested Liam.

  “If you put her into the care of the priestesses, they may let her die since she has broken laws within the Order. I cannot risk the chance.” Conn placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Trust me.”

  “I agree,” confirmed Rory, coming alongside Liam. “I know the Master Fae Apothecary well.”

  Uncertainty filled Liam. He sensed more to Conn’s words, but this was not the time to dwell or argue for more information. “Then I will take her there.”

  Conn gave him a curt nod. “Let us move forward.” With a flick of his wrist, he transported them behind the enemy’s camp.

  Liam noted four men positioned at a directional compass of north, south, east, and west. A few others were crouched near a fire eating. A wagon and horses were set back within the trees, surrounded by more men. Liam was correct. More humans had gathered. Two of the men had their backs to him, but were dressed in odd clothing. An odd sense of familiarity tugged at his mind. He tried to recall the memory. When one of the men turned sideways, blue markings adorned one side of his face.

  Glancing at the other warriors, Liam asked, “When did the Milesians become embroiled in affairs of the Fae and humans?”

  Conn’s expression was a mask of stone. “None. I have not seen a Milesian since the final war that sent us underground. Their bloodline became mixed with the later people of Ireland, since they remained above.”

  “Nevertheless, several are present,” interjected Ronan with contempt. “Ye can tell by the markings on one of them that they are from a warrior lineage.”

  Terror settled like a lodestone in Liam’s gut. “We must quickly find Abela. They are within their rights to take her. She is a princess of the Fae and extremely valuable.”

  Conn glared at him. “I am well aware of the rights of the Milesians. However, they have already broken a law by conferring with another Fae outside of our kingdom without the knowledge of the king. Furthermore, I suspect their own king does not know of the betrayal within his realm.”

  “How can you be so sure?” demanded Liam, scanning the area.

  Shrugging, Conn responded, “Call it intuition, but this entire situation reeks of lesser individuals. Our realm has undergone some vast changes recently, and there have been a select few who have sought to thwart the new additions in our kingdom.”

  Liam tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, frustrated with the limited knowledge of what had been happening in his absence. “No matter what has transpired, my concern is retrieving Abela and seeing her safely back to the kingdom. You can deal with the others.”

  “My brother is correct,” acknowledged Rory and stepped forward. “We know what must be done. We will provide the distraction for Liam. It should not be difficult to locate the other Fae.”

  Conn pointed a warning finger at Rory. “No harm shall come to the Milesians. It would be a declaration of war, considering I am leading us on this mission. Our main focus is securing Abela and the other Fae.” He glanced at all of them. “Are we in agreement?”

  Rory, Taran, and Ronan gave curt nods in agreement.

  Liam started forward and then paused. “When this is finished, I expect a full account of what has happened in our realm—be it at Abela’s side or in my prison.” He leveled a hard stare at Conn. “Swear it.”

  “On my honor,” affirmed Conn. “As your prince and leader, all details will be given.”

  Snapping his fingers, Liam vanished.

  Traveling over the ground in a flash of light, he followed Abela's faint heartbeat. As he came to a cluster of pine and oak trees, he settled behind them and cast his gaze out in all directions. Determined to keep himself shielded until he found Abela, he waited patiently.

  Where are you, mo ghrá?

  A slight coughing sound echoed to the right and Liam crouched low to the ground to get a better view of the footpath. Small critters scampered about, until his sight came upon a portion of Abela’s body slumped next to a giant oak.

  “Be quiet,” hissed her captor.

  Liam’s lip curled in disgust as his gaze sought the man. He continued to survey the area, making sure no others were guarding Abela and then stood. When several other men stepped onto the path, Liam clenched his jaw and blended in with the tree. One of the Milesians had approached with a traveler.

  “What is wrong with the woman? She doesn’t look like a princess of anything,” protested the Milesian and kicked her leg with his boot. “Are you attempting to barter with a peasant woman, instead of royalty?”

  “Sweet Brigid! She appeared fine several hours ago, though was complaining of the heat, and walking,” professed the traveler in apparent agitation. “I can assure ye that this is the Fae princess.”

  “Her hair is streaked with gray, and she is naught but skin and bones. This is not royalty. Our agreement is terminated. I must speak with your leader about this outrage.” The Milesian shoved past the man and stormed to the clearing.

  “Wa…wait,” sputtered the man, running after him. “Speak with Peter before ye make your final decision.”

  Liam had no intention on waiting for Conn and the others to provide a distraction. A tremor of unease crept down his spine the moment they spoke of Abela’s appearance. Making steady strides toward her, he was unprepared for the vision who greeted him.

  He dropped to the ground in shock. “Abela,” he uttered in a hoarse whisper, touching the gray strands that streaked through her once stunning ebony locks.

  Her eyes fluttered open. Gone were the lavender hues he loved. In their depths were silver and gold specks. Her features were ashen and so withered, he barely recognized the woman that had stolen his heart. Her life force was evaporating.

  She raised a frail hand. Her fingers trembled over his mouth. “Home,” she mumbled and then collapsed into coughing spasms.

  Liam’s heart constricted. After swiftly sheathing his sword, he cradled her head against his chest until t
he seizures subsided. You will not die, mo ghrá. Do you hear my words? I am taking you home. All will be well once you return.

  “Back away from the woman,” ordered a male voice behind him.

  Liam stood and turned around. He gazed into the sinister eyes of another Milesian. “I have no intention of releasing her or fighting you.”

  The man leveled his blade at Liam. “Then I will be forced to slay you.”

  “And start a war?” Liam shook his head. “I think not.”

  A flicker of wariness flashed briefly over the Milesian’s features. The man pressed his blade center to Liam’s heart. “She has already done so by entering this realm. And if you are the Fenian Warrior Peter O’Malley has told us about, you are without your powers and no threat to me.”

  He regarded the Milesian with contempt and slowly lifted his hand. “I do not know where you came upon your information, but I am in full use of my powers.” With a single thought, Liam dislodged the weapon from the man’s hand and flung it outward.

  Shock registered in the Milesian’s eyes, and he stumbled back. Liam reached for his neck and lifted the man off the ground. Pure rage exploded inside him. “You have trespassed against the Fae kingdom by endeavoring to kidnap me and this woman. I take it as a sign of war! Your life is forfeit and by rights, mine.”

  “No, Liam, stop,” uttered Abela in a cracked dry voice.

  Her feeble voice scarcely registered within Liam’s mind. His grip increased. “Give me the name of the Fae you are in league with?”

  “Can…cannot speak his name.”

  “If you don’t, I will pry it from your mind, leaving you incoherent for the rest of your life.”

  A turbulent war cry resounded in the distance alerting Liam that Conn and the others had come upon the enemy. “Your time is at an end. Answer me!”

  The Milesian struggled for air, clawing at his face, and in a flash of blinding light disintegrated into ashes before Liam’s eyes. Disbelief ripped through him as he shook his hand free of the last remnants of the man. “What just happened?” he muttered in shock. Even though he yearned to kill the man, Liam was not responsible for his death.