Trial of a Warrior

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Trial of a Warrior Page 27

by Mary Morgan


  “Do not say that word,” ordered Abela, tossing the covers off her head and clutching them to her chest.

  Rory’s mouth opened and closed, resembling a gaping fish. He pointed a finger at her. “Im…impossible.”

  Abela pinched her arm in a mock display of being alive. “Yes, it is possible. I felt the pain.”

  Rory stumbled back, blinking several times. “Does Conn know? The king and queen?”

  Plucking a rare piece of lint from the velvet covering, she replied, “Yes. Conn was made aware of my awakening early this morning by the king.”

  Rory charged out of the room.

  “What is he doing now?” complained Abela.

  Liam shrugged and went to a trunk by the side of the bed, retrieving a pair of trews. Hastily putting them on, he asked, “Would you like me to do the honors?”

  Rolling her eyes, Abela snapped her fingers and a pale blue silken gown graced her body. Giving a light touch to her mussed hair, she magically transformed the mass into perfection. “I am fully in control of all my powers,” she replied dryly.

  “Good to hear.”

  After slipping out of the bed, she went and wrapped her arms around him. “I think we’d better go see what he’s doing.”

  Liam groaned. “By all the noise, I believe he’s searching for one of my rare bottles of single malt.”

  “What? No ambrosia from the Pleasure Gardens?” She winked and darted away from him.

  “I find no humor in your question.”

  “Then I shall think of something else.”

  Abela strolled into the main chamber with Liam following closely behind her. True to what Liam had stated, his brother had flung open the doors to a massive cabinet. Three glasses were displayed next to a decanter, but Rory continued to explore and pull out other bottles.

  “Is there something I can help you find,” asked Liam, opening the doors that led out to the garden.

  “I know you have a bottle from Alastair MacKay.”

  “I do, but it’s mead, not whisky. You know he favors the sweet wine.”

  Rory arched a brow in question. “Are you sure? I can always resort to using magic to find it.”

  “You are forbidden to use any type of magic in my chambers, or have you forgotten our vows when we entered the Brotherhood?”

  “Never. You made me swear in blood,” acknowledged Rory, waving his hand about. “Why do you think I’m pulling out everything in this ancient cabinet? Your collection of glassware, iron and bronze vessels, and rare bottles of drink are more extensive than Conn’s.”

  Abela continued to observe Rory in his quest to hunt for the elusive bottle. Liam’s mouth twitched in humor while he stood to the side, offering no assistance.

  Fresh, floral air streamed inside distracting her from the comical scene. “And here I thought Conn had a stunning vista. You’ve outdone yourself, Liam.” She moved to the entrance and gazed outward. “Sweet Goddess, you have the golden swans in your lake. They’ve been missing from the royal gardens for years.”

  “Found it!” shouted Rory, triumphantly.

  Liam approached from behind and swept back a lock of hair from her neck. Leaning near, he whispered. “It will be our secret.”

  She shivered from his touch, aching to strip free and frolic out in his lush garden.

  “This is a cause to celebrate,” interrupted Rory carrying three glasses of whisky. Handing one to her and Liam, he lifted his high. “To life, love, renewal. A triad of happiness to you both always.” He quickly tossed back the dram.

  Taking a sip, Abela sputtered. “This is what you were searching for?” She held the glass outward. “It burns.”

  “It’s an acquired taste, mo ghrá.”

  Handing Liam the rest of her drink, she countered, “I believe I’d like some of Alastair’s mead, if there is any.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  After setting his glass down, Rory stepped near her. Taking her hand, he placed a kiss along the knuckles. “I am greatly relieved to see you are once again in my brother’s life. I feared he was descending to a place where no one would be able to reach him.”

  If only Rory knew how close his brother came to ending his life. “Thank you. It has been an adventure. Never could I have fathomed the path I took.”

  Dropping her hand, he smiled. “You are the first, besides the Fenian Warriors, to venture into the mortal world since we were escorted underground. I admire your strength. Many would have succumbed to death within hours.” In a more somber tone, he added, “And I will be forever grateful to you in freeing my brother from his prison. Regardless of the circumstances, your adventurous journey led us to a plot which could have led to the downfall of the kingdom.”

  “I almost forgot!” She stole a glance at Liam. “I know who the traitor is!”

  Liam crossed to her side and handed her a glass of mead. “Council member, Tulare.”

  Abela felt the blood leaving her face. Taking a sip of the honeyed mead, she tried to steady her racing heart. It was a memory she had tucked away. Tulare never glimpsed her that day, but she would always remember his vile nature standing next to several Milesians and Peter O’Malley.

  “Let us move outside,” suggested Liam. “There we can give you an account of everything.”

  When she stepped into the warmth of the sunlight, Abela exhaled slowly. Some of her memories remained clouded of her time in the mortal world when she became ill. Yet, this one image soared within her mind. She walked with intent toward the grassy area, needing to feel the touch of the ground on her skin. Finding a place near the water, she settled down on the ground and patted for the men to join her.

  “How much do you remember?” asked Liam, softly.

  Abela took another sip of the mead. “Fragments. Though with each new hour, I am finding my memories are binding, enabling me to recall more vividly my time above. I saw Tulare with the Milesians and Peter. I was stunned to witness him there and more so to see the Milesians.”

  “Thankfully, a war has been averted. Your father has met with the King of the Milesians. Another treaty has been drawn up. Both kings have witnessed, signed, and rescinded the previous one.”

  After finishing her drink, she placed it on the ground. “Do tell how they did this without including the others,” she encouraged.

  “Two treaties,” interrupted Rory, leaning back on his forearms. “One between the kings, stating that if conflict arose between the realms, both races, Tuatha de Danann and the Milesians would combine forces to unite. This will keep the worlds safe. The other treaty is for all races, specifically in regards to the Fenian Warriors. If required, the Veil of Ages could be used by the warriors for use in special circumstances. And only with approval from the king himself.” He paused. Wariness reflected within Rory’s eyes.

  She nudged his leg with her foot. “What do the others—Dragon Knights and Irish Travelers—say to this new treaty?”

  Silence hovered around them, except for the hum of bees. Abela directed her gaze to Liam, who kept his attention on the swans. Her shoulders slumped. “They don’t know.”

  “No, they do not,” affirmed Liam, quietly.

  “Have we truly become a divided realm? Did I do this?” She abruptly stood and hugged her arms around herself.

  “It was inevitable,” stated Liam, standing and placing his arms around her waist. “The path had begun when your brother, Conn fell in love with a human—Ivy. In truth, this new direction may have started years ago.”

  She sighed and leaned back against him. “This news is unsettling. I happen to like the Dragon Knights. At least the MacKays of Urquhart.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I concur.”

  “So now what? The original treaties will be returned without their knowledge of the new ones?”

  “Yes,” offered Rory, coming to stand alongside them.

  “But it will be a lie,” she argued. “The shift of power has begun.”

  Both men remained
silent, and Abela’s heart grew heavy. Was this the path of the worlds? What was her part in all of this? Her lessons learned from the temple were for all people, regardless if they were human or Fae. Perhaps she could bring the teachings outside the sacred place for those to witness their healing purposes and knowledge. A thought to dwell on for another day.

  Turning around in Liam’s arms, she gave him a beaming smile. “For now let us celebrate peace in all the realms. There will always be conflict and strife, but good does triumph in the end.”

  “How right you are, beloved.”

  Rory leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “With both your permissions, I will go forth and spread the good news that you are alive.”

  Abela laughed with content. “I anoint you with the task.”

  “Tell mother I shall visit her later,” stated Liam, bringing Abela closer to him.

  Rory gave him a mock salute. “She was second on my list. Erina will be overjoyed with the news.”

  “Unless Ivy has spoken with her already,” admitted Abela. “Truth be told, I am puzzled why you did not hear the news directly from Conn.”

  Rory gave her a wink as he strolled away. “Erina and I were spending some alone time in the waters of Delfina.”

  “Isn’t there a nickname for that place?” she shouted.

  Rory’s laughter resonated long after he vanished from their sight.

  “Would you like to visit the Lover’s waters, Abela?”

  Abela’s face heated as she turned slowly to meet Liam’s sensual gaze. “Is it as pleasurable as many have whispered?”

  He lowered his head and nipped on her lower lip. “I have never been, but the tales have been alluring.”

  His voice sent tremors of delight across her skin. “Why did you not go?”

  Kissing her lips softly, he whispered, “I made a vow long ago that if I ever claimed you, the waters of Delfina would be a special place for us. I had no desire to share the unique experience with anyone else.”

  “Oh,” she breathed out, falling in love with Liam all over again.

  Chapter Thirty

  “I heard the call of the songbird, and Abela emerged forth from the water. My soul sought hers, but our minds were wary.”

  ~Chronicles of Liam MacGregor

  Pacing the grand foyer of the king and queen’s chambers, Liam pondered what he would say to Abela’s parents. He had claimed Abela as his wife, without permission from his king and queen. Their daughter was royalty. Worse, she was a priestess from the temple, and he considered if he should have gone there first to speak with the High Priestess.

  But none of it mattered now. Abela was his wife. Nevertheless, there was the subject of a ceremony, which his mother had pointed out after he made his apologies last evening. He never thought to ask Abela. Their reunion was a passionate one, exploring each other, and renewing what they both believed lost.

  He raked a hand through his hair and straightened his tunic. Brushing his fingers over his armband, he then exhaled slowly. What he had endured was far more painful than this moment. His love for their daughter consumed his every waking moment. Her name was on his lips upon waking, filling him with a peace and contentment he had always yearned for in his life.

  Smiling at his reflection in the gilded mirror suspended on either side of the entrance, he let go of the fear and embraced what he knew. I love you, Abela.

  As I love you, too, Liam.

  Her voice floated within his thoughts as he advanced toward the doors. Clasping his hands behind his back, he waited. Time could never diminish what was in his heart, and he was prepared to wait all day in the foyer, if necessary.

  However, his stay outside the chambers was short, and the amber doors opened.

  Queen Nuala crossed the expanse of the room, holding out her hands toward him. “It is good to see you again, Liam.”

  Unprepared for the welcoming gesture, Liam knelt on one knee in reverence. “My queen.”

  She tapped him on the shoulder. “There is no need, Liam. Please rise.”

  After he complied, the queen placed a kiss on each of his cheeks. “Welcome.”

  Her informality left him without words to offer, so he gave her a weak smile. Lifting his gaze to the king, Liam understood there were going to be repercussions from Abela’s father. The queen might have forgiven him, but his king reflected hesitancy in his stance and features. Recovering his voice, he inclined his head. “Thank you, my queen.”

  Her eyes held mirth. “Nuala.”

  “As you wish.”

  The king snorted but made no motion to move forward.

  Queen Nuala took Liam’s arm, and proceeded to lead him toward her husband. “Do not be rude, Ansgar.”

  The king placed a hand over his heart. “Me? If it was not for this warrior, our daughter would not have been placed in danger.”

  “Might I remind you that I set Liam free,” argued Abela, striding forth from the inner chamber. She went directly to her father, and placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “I find your brusque behavior unappealing and not like the king I understand so well. I have given my full account to you and mother.”

  His features softened somewhat. He patted her hand. “You risked a great deal, Abela. The priestesses were within their power to cast you out of the kingdom.”

  She lowered her head on a sigh. “As you have stated repeatedly, Father.”

  “The warrior should have returned you to the realm at once.”

  “And I gave you my reasons,” she argued, darting the king a furious glance.

  Liam grew weary of the sparring of words. Had they not been down this road of discussion already? He had no desire to watch a debate with his beloved as the target, as well as himself. He understood her father’s devotion, but Abela was now his to guard and protect.

  Removing the queen’s arm from his, he walked over to Abela and her father. “If I may speak with you in private, King Ansgar, there is a matter which needs to be discussed.”

  The king regarded him for several moments and then gave a curt nod. “Follow me.”

  Liam grabbed Abela and kissed her soundly, trying to reassure her. “All will be well.”

  “Be careful,” she whispered against his cheek.

  He winked. “Always.”

  “Do not keep me waiting, warrior!” shouted the king.

  Striding quickly down the corridor, Liam’s steps slowed as the king took him into another area. Short circular steps led to a vast chamber, lit with candles. Books and scrolls lined the shelves all around him. He paused to take in the immeasurable collection of the king’s library. His appreciation for the Fae King grew.

  “I am impressed,” Liam blurted out, unable to contain his exuberance.

  “I have heard mentioned you are a scholar,” remarked King Ansgar.

  “Yes. I was appointed a scribe on my first assignment to the mortal world as a Fenian Warrior.”

  “Do tell,” encouraged the king, removing a scroll from his desk.

  Liam relaxed his stance. “It was during the early reign of King Brian Boru. He required someone who could give precise details during meetings with other chieftains. I remained in the background and committed to memory all words spoken, including observing reactions during the conversations. Afterward, I sat and wrote everything down on parchment for him.”

  The king tapped a finger on the parchment he held. “He was a great king, so I’ve been told. A wise man, indeed.”

  “Agreed. And I believe he would have found favor with you.”

  “Sprinkling me with compliments, warrior? It will not grant you any from me.”

  Liam arched a brow in amusement. “Never, my king. If I may speak freely?”

  “Can I stop you?” The king wandered over to a massive golden globe of the Fae realm, supported by three uniquely carved oak dragons.

  Liam straightened. “I have loved Abela for decades. I will guard, protect, shield, and cherish her forever. What has happened is in the past and c
annot be undone.”

  The king eyed him skeptically. “Unless I undo the past.”

  “Not even you would dare to tamper with our threads on the loom of life.” He hesitated and then continued, “And I would not allow you to take her from my heart.”

  “You would fight me on this, warrior?” His tone held a note of warning.

  “With my life.”

  King Ansgar smiled and gestured Liam forward. “I have waited for the right warrior to claim my daughter. Only the strongest can stand by her side. She is destined for a future, one even she is unsure of at the moment. Regardless, she requires the strength, guidance, wisdom, and love of someone who will understand her. In addition, she requires a warrior who can profess to his king and her father his willingness to fight for her.” Unfurling the parchment on his desk, he tapped the four corners to keep the document open.

  Liam strode forth, overcome by elation within. He gazed upon the document, scanning the names. “A new order of Fenian Warriors?”

  “Yes. You will be among the elite warriors. There is also another whose name I shall add. Yet, she will only be able to travel with her husband.”

  “Abela?” Liam wiped a hand over his brow, tentative with this news. “She is unable to survive in the human world, so how is this possible?”

  King Ansgar leaned against his desk. “After much deliberation with Conn, the elders, and Abela, we have concluded that it is time she enters the world to aid those in our teachings. She will continue to possess the Stone of Ages with you as her guardian.”

  Stunned by the news, Liam could not help but be concerned. The king had formally acknowledged and accepted him as Abela’s husband. He’d hope to enter into another position within the kingdom after leaving the Brotherhood. The possibility of traveling into unknown dangerous situations, especially with his beloved, left him unsteady. Though it was a great honor, he pondered why Abela would have accepted. How could she think of returning to the human world when she almost died there?

  The king shoved away from the desk. “I sense you have questions. Conn is waiting in the other room to speak with you. May I call him forth?”

 

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