by N. K. Vir
“That honor was stripped from you long ago,” boomed an authoritative voice.
“Mannanan, show yourself you cowardly usurper!” screeched Bres.
The earth seemed to shake as the ocean waters rose from the beach into the shape of a man. The water man glided effortlessly over the blood stained sand. He stretched out his arms and the injured or incapacitated Fae slowly began to regain their senses as they stirred noisily on the ground. Finn and his warriors tried, prematurely, to get to their feet only to fall harshly back down. The lights of the Dryads began to flicker and brighten a sure sign that they too would recover. All of the Seelie fighters began to show signs of life, all except for Annie. Annie still lay motionless and pale on the sand feet away from Duncan.
“I have been called many things Bres but never a coward,” Mannanan said angrily. Bres seemed to shrink slightly as the water god slowly approached him.
Duncan, thankful for the distraction began crawling his way towards his sword. He had thought briefly about calling it to him, but his energy levels were to low and he needed all he had if he were to have enough power to swing a death blow.
“She is mine!” Bres spat as he pointed at Annie. “She was promised to me ages ago.”
“She was promised to the true High King, and you are not the true High King,” Mannanan responded calmly.
Duncan froze in shock. His eyes bounced back and forth between Mannanan and his sword. Answerer laid still and quiet. Duncan’s heart seized in his chest as the truth was finally revealed to him. Aine was never his. Suddenly the Battle Queen’s curse seemed more like a blessing. She had always and still was protecting him the only way she could.
“That is a lie,” hissed Duncan. The denial had escaped him before his mind had time to process the thought.
The watery visage slowly morphed into the form the High King usually preferred. His clear blue eyes filled with sadness looked down at Duncan with pity. “What does Answerer tell you?” he inquired. Duncan refused to look at either his High King or the sword he had been crawling to retrieve.
“None of this matters!” Bres interrupted. “She is mine and only I can free her. I claim her as mine and hence the Seelie throne!”
“No!” Screeched a small powerful voice. “She is not yers!”
Rian appeared gripping the athame Annie had given him and in a moment of rage had screamed the denial beating Duncan. In one breath he was screaming at Bres and in the next he was launching himself towards the offending man, arm drawn back ready to strike. He landed on Bres’ stunned back and sunk his blade up to the hilt between his shoulder blades. Bres let out a wail and flung the tiny Brownie to the ground. Rian bounced as he hit the ground and remained motionless.
“That blade is spelled and poisoned with Redcap blood,” Mannanan informed Bres. “Flee and heal while you still can.”
Without another word Bres vanished.
Duncan, exhausted and defeated collapsed onto the ground and willed death to claim him.
Chapter Seventeen
Many Locks Open
Magick, that mysterious energy which draws its power from the infinite universe put the wharf back to right. Within minutes of Bres’ departure no resident, tourist or curious cat would have known that the first, of possibly many battles between the Seelie and Unseelie had taken place. Mannanan or Manny as he instructed everyone to call him had effectively erased all signs of the battle. The wounded and recovering where transported to Annie’s house for treatment by Fiona and the nameless wise woman.
Griffin and Kat were declared well enough to return to their own house with strict instructions to eat and sleep. Robert, still high on adrenaline was put in charge of caring for the swords and armor of Finn and his men under a watchful, yet grumpy Knacker who was more than bent out of shape about having to leave Duncan’s side. Only when Finn assured him that should Duncan have need of anything that he would be called upon first.
Callum and Colin were put in the back spare bedroom and were snoring in peaceful harmony after the well fought battle. Fiona kept herself busy in the tiny kitchen preparing tea and poultices for every minor injury she could think of; her hands keeping busy so her mind and mouth could and would remain silent. Rian was laid out on the couch in the living room as the wise woman whispered healing prayers over him. Brownies, the most retiring species of Fae, were never known to act so bravely and boldly. After sustaining such a jolt of harsh and raw magick from Bres it was unknown what sort of ill effects would linger in his minute body. But Kat reminded them to have faith, power, she reminded them was often hidden in small packages.
Of the four who remained only two were still conscious at this late hour. Manny and Finn kept watch over their children as they slept. Both men hoping the sleep was dreamless as dreams and nightmares were the last thing either needed.
Both Annie and Duncan had suffered terrible blows. Annie’s mortal frame had channeled a Goddess’ full power and lived. A mortal body unblessed by the Otherworld had never survived the true force a Sidhe could wield; never mind that the Goddess Aine still resided somewhere inside her.
Duncan had suffered the worst injury of them all. Physically his body was whole his injuries lay buried deep inside his chest where his heart struggled to keep beating. The wise woman had done all she could for him declaring that it was his choice to live or die.
Finn paced nervously in Annie’s bedroom. It had been decided without words being spoken that Annie and Duncan would be put in her room laid next to each other. If and hopefully when they awoke they could be given time alone together. For the time being two fathers stood in silent sentry duty over their hurting children.
“What a mess,” observed Finn as he surveyed the ruins of Annie’s room.
“She never was very neat,” replied Manny.
“Tis not exactly what I meant,” Finn said with a shake of his head. “The window has been shattered from the inside,” he said pointing to the offending window.
A knock sounded and Fiona requested entry, she entered carrying a tray of tea and toast. She laid the tray carefully on the dresser and silently made her way back to the door.
“A moment mistress,” Manny called after her. “How did the window come to be broken?”
Fiona hesitated, curtseyed quickly in front of the High King and cleared her throat as she stalled for time searching for her proper speech.
“Speak plain mistress Fiona we are merely curious,” encouraged Manny.
“Twas Duncan’s doing when the Redcap was attacking my mistress.” Finn and Manny exchanged confused looks as Fiona, finding her tongue continued with her tale. “Oh it were right frightening. That nasty thing had his claws dug in deep. Knackers, Rian and I were banging down the door and right when we broke through, pop, crash! Duncan shatters the window and dives right through he does. Chased away that Giles right quick ‘e did”
Manny held up a silencing hand and Fiona quickly quieted her rambling tongue. “Let me ask of you mistress one question and I’d ask that your answer remain short as tonight has been difficult enough.”
Fiona nodded her head in understanding. Manny motioned to Finn who in turn deferred to the king silently encouraging him to proceed. “How did Duncan break the window shattering the glass outside if he himself was outside?”
Fiona shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t rightly know but he came in this room through the window. Knackers saw it all as well,” she said as she adopted a defensive stance.
Finn held up his hands,” We believe you mistress tis just a puzzle as to how he accomplished such a feat.”
“Magick,” she said in exasperation as she threw her hands in the air. She shook her head at both of them and turned to take her leave. “Silly questions these are. After all that’s happened they worry themselves over a window. An’ me havin’ to explain magick like I were talkin’ to the mundane,” she muttered to herself as she closed the door behind her.
Manny tried hard to contain his laughter until Fiona had lef
t and was out of earshot. “Good Gods that Bean Tighe has a way doesn’t she? I’m glad I chose her to look after Annie.” He said as he wiped a humorous tear from his eye and gazed down at his daughter.
“The Bean Tighe did nothing but add more mystery to our plight,” Finn pointed out.
“How is that old friend?”
“Duncan has no magick, never has,” Finn explained.
Many shot Finn a questioning look. “Surely some form, just because his is Faeriedae does not mean he is barren?”
Finn shook his head. “Duncan’s never had any magick save from astounding battle reflexes. Some would call that magick or foresight.”
“But he had a foretelling,” Manny said in disbelief.
“I’d wager that had more to do with her,” Finn replied pointing to Annie.
“What are we missing?” Manny asked not expecting a reply.
“Love and the hope it brings. It is the strongest magick because it can create and destroy.”
Both Finn and many turned quickly at the sound of the voice. Neither was easily caught off guard, there was only one being in both worlds who had such power.
“Badb,” Manny breathed. “The whole time you’ve been here in silence?” he accused.
The wise woman stood grinning at them from the doorway. She winked at them and limped wearily into the room. She pointed her gnarled wooden cane at the sleeping forms of Annie and Duncan as she continued to speak. “Their hope has been taken away and they need to be reminded of their love. The Morrighan needs to release the Dark Warrior from his curse for protect him it did not.”
“She listens to her own council on such things as you well know,” Manny reminded her.
“Aye and she will listen to mine on this. My granddaughter will not fade away because of Morrighan’s protection. There is much that remains hidden. We must not act until the course of things has run.”
“What do you suggest Battle Crow?” Finn asked. “That we sit idly by and leave them in fate’s hands?”
“Perhaps, yes,” she replied simply as she sat down on the bed. She extended her hands and let them hover above Duncan and Annie. She closed her eyes in concentration and began speaking softly to them, whispering healing words to their hearts. When she was done she folded her hands neatly in her lap and sat quietly for a few moments more. Neither Finn nor Manny dared to speak again until the Crow was ready. “The Morrighan has agreed to release her curse,” she declared.
“She changed her mind?” Manny asked incredulously.
“Queens do not change their minds they just hear better council,” the Crow snapped back. Finn wisely stayed quiet content to let the royal family squabble.
The Crow reached out and took up Duncan and Annie’s hand in hers. She whispered a few other quiet inaudible words then laid their hands one a top of the other palms together and touching. Immediately their breathing fell into a steady rhythm as their chest rose and fell together.
“There that’s better,” she declared. “Sometimes the old forget the strength and power of love; but the young have ways of reminding us,” she said as she gave their joined hands a gentle pat. “Come let them rest alone, in peace and together; for I fear this to be the last restful night for both.”
“So, they will heal?” Finn asked.
“Oh, aye,“ replied the Crow as she stiffly rose from her seated position and led the procession out of the room. “Their bodies will mend and for tonight their souls are at peace. But come dawn the torture will begin a new for they will have many questions and even more doubts and we will have no answers that will soothe them.”
Chapter Eighteen
Many Locks Remain Closed
Dawn broke brightly through the windowless room. The intense light pierced the shield of his eyelids as his conscious thought slowly swam to the surface. He was warm and comfortable and felt more at peace than he had in a while. He tried to stretch but found himself impeded by some sort of extra weight that made the movement difficult. Convinced Knackers had found his way up onto the bed again he was about to shove the furry devil off of him when and unusual sound, or rather lack of sound, alerted him that something was not right.
Knackers snored; horribly actually. The weight on his chest made no such noise. His battle senses immediately awoke and he was fully alert though his physical body gave away no signs. His breathing remained slow and even and to any outsider viewing his sleeping form it would seem as if he had stirred only slightly before falling back to sleep.
He quickly called on his other senses to tell him about his surroundings. Calling upon his ears first he heard muffled conversation. He guessed he was in a room with a door and that the door was closed. If he had been captured his guards had not thought to post one at his bedside. He could hear birds singing and a breeze drifted over him indicating an open window nearby. If there was an open window then he was not being held. He exhaled in relief and when he inhaled the smell was slightly salty and tinged with the faintest scent of …meadowsweet.
“Annie!” he shouted as he bolted upright dislodging and sending a sleeping Annie crashing to the floor.
He was horrified and confused. He ripped off his shirt searching for a burn or blister and was amazed that no such mark existed on his already battle marred skin. His body told him no pain existed but his brain continued to insist that there was. She had been laying against him, on him. He searched for logical reasons that he felt no pain. Maybe their skin needed to touch? Absurd the first time he felt the burn her touch caused cloth had been in the way. Maybe it had not been her after all? Nonsense, he was standing in her room. As if to clarify to him once and for all the clarity of the situation her golden red head popped up above the bed.
“What the hell am I doing on the floor?” She muttered through a sleep yawn. “Did I fall out of bed again?” As she pulled herself off the floor she met his eyes and stopped. Her crystal eyes froze him in place even his chest refused to move to allow a breath in. She continued to stare at him her eyes moving up and down the length of him a wicked smile flirting with the corners of her mouth. No one, not ever her, had ever looked at him with such open admiration.
“My god you really are beautiful,” she breathed.
He was stunned. He looked down at his own torso and saw only scars left by battle that crisscrossed his sun darkened skin. Words failed to form a reply as she slowly rose from the floor and began moving towards him. He felt his own feet move forward before his brain overrode their direction and revered course. His back hit a wall blocking his retreat as her hand extended out towards his abdomen their destination particularly thick and raised scar that started inches to the left of his navel and wound around to his lower back. A parting gift from a traitorous Rider moments before Duncan relieved him of his head.
Her finger tips brushed lightly against his skin causing his abdominal muscles to spasm. She drew her hand away startled. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” he replied without thought. And in truth he felt no pain. As his mind pondered this her fingers brushed against the scar again tracing its path around is side and to his lower back. He allowed his eyes to drift close relishing the intensely pleasurable feeling her cool fingers on his warm skin cased.
“I want you to promise me something,” she breathed against his mouth.
“Anything,” he replied again without thought.
“I want to know about, I want to feel every one of these beautiful battle marks.”
Words, speech fled his mind as he could focus only on her touch. He nodded his head in agreement and was rewarded with her lips gently pressing against the corner of his mouth. Thought, sound and sense fled as his lips reached out to return the gentle caress. Their lips moving shyly, timidly at first exploring and testing each other quickly intensified. His arms wound around her waist pulling her roughly up against him. Her soft moan encouraged his hands as they found the bare skin of her back. The feel of her silken skin against his hands pulled a groan from within his own throat.<
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Finally she was his, she was where she belonged. His hands drifted higher, entangled in her hair as he pulled her head back to allow his mouth access to her jaw. His lips trailed hungrily down on side of her throat before traveling up the other side to recapture her kiss swollen lips. She sighed; his name escaping her mouth and he greedily ate it up. Nothing could have stopped his hand sand his mouth from their current path, nothing except the next breathy words spoken into his ear.
“So right…”
Only it wasn’t, she wasn’t.
She was a dream from which he had to awaken. She was not his, not now, not ever. She belonged to another man. The thought pulled a growl deep from within his belly as the battle beast inside him threatened to take over. His arms gripped her tighter pulling her closer to him in attempt to fuse her to him.
Rational thought declared war on the beast poking and prodding until it returned to its cage surrendering to only one thing, honor. She belonged to another. She belonged to the true High King destined one day to be High Queen. She would soon ascend to a place that he could not follow.
His fingers released their grip on her hair and slowly slid down her neck to her shoulders. He gave her one last, deep lingering kiss. His lips committing to memory the feel of her, the taste of her before he pulled his head back and gently pushed her away. Her head fell back and she gazed deeply into him, almost through him. His hands forgot to let go and his thumb traced a lazy path around her mouth. He soaked up her satisfied smile as he continued to procrastinate. A knock on the door saved him from having to explain why he needed to move away from her.
The door opened and Knackers entered ignoring permission. His cat eyes quickly took in the scene and embarrassment settled heavily in the room. Knackers took a sudden interest in his sooty boots, Annie took a few steps back putting some space between them and allowing him room to put his shirt back on. Knackers cleared his throat breaking the tension in the room.