Foretold Fate (Sisters of Danu Series Book 2)

by Mia Pride

  But she needed to focus on more immediate matters. In just a few days, she would meet Una. The thought had her squirming with anticipation in her saddle. However, after hours of travel, the squirming became less due to anticipation and more about her aching backside.

  Though they had been traveling since dawn with only a few stops to eat and relieve themselves, dusk was on the horizon and Gwynneth became concerned that her saddle was slipping on Dana’s back with every move. She had been shifting frequently in the saddle throughout their journey, feeling as if her saddle was looser than usual, but she had continued in silence. She was only being paranoid and did not want to slow down their travels.

  “Let us increase our speed for a while, until the sun descends completely. The more ground we cover, the shorter our travels on the morrow,” Liam demanded as he dug his heels into his horse. They all followed, urging their horses into a gallop.

  Gwynneth’s knuckles tightened on the reins as she leaned forward and braced herself for the advancing speed. She felt the saddle shift again and her heart began to beat wildly in her chest. Something was not right. “Liam?” She tried to gain his attention, but he had pulled behind her at some point, as he often did to guard her back, and there her words were lost to the whistling wind as they sped through the trees.

  A sudden jolt shook her in the saddle as Dana dodged a boulder and Gwynneth snapped to attention with a start. “Liam? I think something is not right with my saddle…” Gwynneth shouted as she adjusted her body, trying to stay upright on the horse, but the saddle slipped further with every stride of Dana’s powerful legs.

  Dana swerved unexpectedly to avoid a low hanging branch and she felt a strong shift in the saddle as it slid to the right. She could feel her body starting to fall as if in slow motion, grappling onto anything to try and regain her balance. She gripped on tightly to Dana’s mane for support as she shouted for help, but it was too late.

  “Liam!” Dana jerked her head, startled by the intense pulling of her mane and Gwynneth’s shouting in her ears, causing the saddle to slip further. With a hard thud, Gwynneth slipped off her horse and fell, grunting in pain as her body impacted with the earth. There was a sickening crack as her head met with a small sharp rock on the floor of the forest, and then her screams went completely silent, her body motionless.

  “Gwynn! Nay!” Liam yanked on the reins of his horse, bringing him to a sudden halt, dismounted swiftly and was at Gwynneth’s side within mere seconds of her impact with the earth. His heart pounded until he could barely breathe and a cry stuck in his throat as he forced himself to stay calm in the face of his overwhelming fear.

  “Gwynn!” he shouted again as he dropped down beside her nonresponsive body and gently scooped his hand under her neck. Ceara and Garreth were next to him the next moment, both watching her in horror. As he lifted her head, he saw her usually pure blonde hair was now the color of blood in the back. A painful choking sound escaped Liam’s throat as he placed a hand over her oozing wound.

  “Gwynneth!” Ceara gasped as she grabbed her sister’s still hand and squeezed, tears streaming down her face. “How could this happen?”

  Liam did not have time just yet to figure out the questions running through his mind. His only concern was for her welfare and that of their unborn child. “Get me some cloth to wrap around her wound!” he shouted as he pointed at the rolled up wool blanket on his saddle. Garreth was unrolling the blanket frantically as he ripped off a long section with his dagger. He squatted down next to Gwynneth and gently tied the fabric around her head.

  “What are we going to do? We are in the middle of nowhere!” Ceara shook uncontrollably as fear further penetrated her mind. Liam put his ear to Gwynneth’s chest and then to her mouth. “She has a pulse, though tis slow and she has a shallow breath. We have nay choice but to set up camp right here and take care of her. If she does not regain consciousness, we must travel for help.”

  “Should Ceara and I go seek help right now?” Garreth asked in a deep, low voice as he looked down at Gwynn’s still body cradled in Liam’s arms.

  “Not yet. She is alive and we do not know if there is a tuath between here and Darini. I think we should stay together until we know more about her condition. Travel may only harm her further. I should have insisted on taking the cart!”

  He placed his large hand over her swollen belly and sheer horror fell over Liam as he contemplated Gwynn losing another child. She had lost a babe only a few moons ago, and though it was the child of her former husband, Baine, Liam had suffered its loss just as much as she had. Her spirit could not survive another loss and he rubbed frantic circles over her belly, trying to stir the child within with his touch, as he had done the night before.

  He could not feel the babe move and he kept rubbing while mumbling under his breath. “Please, mo leanbh. Do not give up on papa,” Liam whispered in a low choked voice. Just then, Liam’s eyes grew wide and he pulled his hand back, looking at Garreth. A smile spread across his face and he nodded, “I felt him! Thank all the gods, he is alive.” He leaned down and kissed his child, then scooped up his wife and carried her over to a blanket Ceara had spread out on the floor of the woods, one large strip missing from its frayed edge.

  “Tis already dusk. We would not have gotten much further this day as it is. Let us get a fire started. Ceara, boil water to clean the wound.” Liam was looking down at Gwynneth’s still face, a tear running down his cheek as he thought how such a thing could happen. She had been through enough already and he suddenly got a sharp pain in his chest, wondering what they would do if she woke up again with no memory, as she had when she jumped for her life off the Cliffs of Moher less than one summer ago.

  The fire was roaring and water from his flask was boiling. They would need to find a water source soon. They usually chose their campsite based on its proximity to water, yet this time they were forced to stop in this random place.

  Gwynneth had once made a stream appear by accident when lost in the woods with Duncan. It was the first time she had ever displayed a control over water, the element that the legend predicted she could control. Since then, she could only control water at the most accidental of moments, having yet no idea how to control her new strange abilities. What irony that the woman who could create water was now lying unconscious, in need of that very element.

  Liam became restless as he stared at his unconscious wife for longer than he even knew, yet staring would not make her wake and he got up quickly, pacing back and forth with one hand on his hip, the other running worriedly through his dark brown hair from time to time, trying to think of a way to be useful.

  “Liam. Can you come here for a moment? I think you need to see this,” Garreth said as he scratched his blonde head in confusion. “This does not look right to me.” He held up a shredded leather strap from Gwynneth’s saddle. The leather was sliced cleanly, as if something had cut through it with a sharp knife, but only part way. The rest appeared to be frayed as if torn slowly apart.

  “What is this?” Liam growled as he took the two torn pieces of the leather strap and tried to fit them together. “How could a thick leather strap tear like this? I even inspected them when we unsaddled the horses after we arrived at Iverni. Everything looked fine. How could this…” suddenly his voice trailed off and his jaw clenched.

  “What is it?”

  “Last night, when Gwynneth and I went out to the stables to grab the tarts, I saw something that looked like metal reflecting in Dana’s stall. I searched briefly, but it was dark and I saw nothing.”

  “You do not think it could be…”

  “Aye. I do. Katriona told Gwynneth that Fiona meant her harm. What better way to inflict harm on Gwynneth without being caught than slicing a small tear in the leather strap of her saddle with a dagger, knowing that it would slowly rip as Gwynneth traveled? By the time it would give way, we would be hours away, having nay idea what happened and nowhere to seek help!” He clenched his fists until his knuckles were whi
te, his jaw clenching as his teeth ground together in fury. “I knew she had a vengeful mind, but I never thought she was capable of this!”

  It was getting darker and Liam needed to decide what plans to make for the dawn. He would stay up and care for Gwynneth throughout the night, but whether she woke or not, they needed to get to safety. Darini was still a day away, but diverting to find another tuath was out of the question. Not with the roaming Aithech-tuatha about.

  Liam wondered about them for a moment. He knew of their leader, Elim Mac Conrach of Ulster. He had slain the last High King, Fiachu Finnolach, just two summers ago and was now claiming himself as the new High King, while Fiachu’s infant son and heir was exiled to Alba. The Aithech-tuatha were the serfs of their land who formed an alliance with Elim. He promised them more power in exchange for their help, and together they successfully overthrew Fiachu.

  Elim’s reign thus far was proving disastrous, with famine trailing in his wake. The people were claiming it was a punishment from the gods for his usurping of the title. The nobles of every tuatha were getting worried as they lost power or were slaughtered while the serfs rose in power.

  However, Elim had given the Aithech-tuatha too much power, causing a rift in the higher working class, clergy, and nobility, who now felt displaced and forgotten. Liam thought about a man like Elim, who was willing to slaughter the High King for his own gain. Now Elim and his band of Aithech-tuatha were roaming the land and raiding villages as they went. This new High King was trying to gain support through force and violence. Such a man could only thrive so long before the people turned against him, Liam knew well. And he hoped to avoid him at all costs while they traveled to Darini.

  Walking back to Gwynneth, Liam looked down at his injured unconscious wife and choked back his fear. Her face was so pale. But she was a Sister of Danu, a descendant of Dana, and destined to mean so much more to this world than a mere mortal...she would survive this, he knew it in the depths of his soul. This was not how Gwynneth was to leave the earth, not by the deceptive hand of his former lover.

  He would deal with Fiona when he returned. He would lock her away until her child was born and then send her away. If the child was his, he and Gwynneth would raise it. It was cruel to separate a mother from her child, but Fiona was dangerous and his own family would never be safe if she stayed within the walls of Iverni. This was her own doing and she would face the severe consequences.

  Just as Liam began to settle down next to Gwynneth for the night, there was a loud rustling in the shrubs surrounding them and his instincts for survival went on high alert, the small hairs on his neck rising in response. His inner warrior took control as he silently pulled his iron dagger from his boot and stood quickly, covering his lips with a finger to signal for quiet.

  The rustling was coming from more than one location within the dense shrubs and Garreth was instantly next to Liam, dirk in hand and ready to strike. Their swords were resting by the horses, too far out of reach. Ceara crouched next to Gwynneth under a tree, watching in horror as the two men turned back to back with their daggers, crouched and poised to strike.

  Both men were taller than any average man, muscular and full of power and their eyes wore a calm confidence that could disarm almost any attacker. Liam’s mind cleared of all other worries. Every sense was heightened as he took in the increasing sounds of leaves shaking and the pop of the fire. The wind blew smoke in his eyes, but he stared through it, determined to keep his gaze on the incoming intruders.

  Through the smoke-filled haze, Liam saw someone emerging from behind a large mulberry shrug. It was a gangly man with dirty black hair and brown beady eyes. His pointy nose was streaked with dirt and his shoulders were covered in a large fur pelt. He had a dagger in his hand and a sideways smirk across his face.

  “Look what we have here,” the man murmured to himself with a slow glance around the dark camp space. His features were distorted by the shadows of the fire and he looked like a crazed man on the prowl. His eyes flicked in the direction of Ceara and Gwynneth, then back to Liam and Garreth. “Two men and two breeding women. It must be in the air.”

  Liam did not take his eyes off this strange man, but he looked at him with a slight air of confusion, wondering what the man was talking about.

  “And you are?” Garreth questioned with confident authority.

  “The question is, who are you, alone in the woods with your breeding wives? And why is one wearing a bandage?”

  “She is hurt. We were traveling to a nearby tuath when she fell from her horse. Leave her be,” Liam said as he put a hand out to the man, stopping him from stepping closer to inspect Gwynneth. “You never answered the question. Who are you?”

  “Oh, nay. I insist. You first,” the man said with a wry grin, still holding his dagger in his hand.

  “My name is Liam Mac Cuill, King of Iverni, and this is Garreth Mac Cecht, King of Coraindt. And these are our wives.” Liam nodded at the women.

  The man ran his free hand through his medium length black beard while he absorbed the proffered information. “Kings, aye? Well, then I must ask you to kneel to me,” he guffawed. He looked back and forth at their aghast faces. Who was this madman storming them in the woods demanding two kings to kneel to him? “After all, it would not do to insult your High King,” the man said with a smug grin.

  Suddenly, it all made sense. “Elim Mac Conrach?” Garreth asked, squinting his hazel eyes in disbelief.

  “Awe, so you have heard of me.”

  “We have heard of the murderer of Fiachu Finnolach, aye.” Liam held his dagger high, waiting to see what Elim was about. “Care to divulge why you and your Aithech-tuatha have been wreaking havoc on the small tuatha across the land? Is this your way of forcing the people to follow you? You cannot command your people otherwise?”

  Elim looked as if he had been slapped in the face. “It is this sort of thinking that has forced us to travel and ‘encourage’ the tuatha and their kings to follow my command. I fear there has been some resistance to my leadership.”

  “Huh,” Garreth said with a sarcastic grunt, “people do not wish to follow a king from a small village who sought power and joined forces with the serfs, promising them better lives if they help you murder the High King, while creating famine for the rest? I cannot imagine why…”

  “Your words offend me, King Garreth of Coraindt,” Elim said through gritted teeth.

  Liam let out a booming laugh. “Because they hit the mark!” he shouted. “How many other men are with you right now? I suppose you have us outnumbered?”

  Elim looked around the bushes. It was night now with a full moon overhead illuminating the trees and shrubs in a cool blue haze. He made a clicking sound with his tongue and three more people came out of the brush. Two were middle-aged, average height men. Their features were obscured in the shadows, but they wore bedraggled wool clothing, emphasizing their place in society as serfs. These must be two of the Aithech-tuatha who had helped overthrow Fiachu for Elim. Liam wondered where the rest were. He knew they must travel in a large group. Was he truly with only two other men? Or were more waiting in the brush, ready to pounce upon the command of their leader?

  The third person to emerge from the darkness was no man at all. Standing before Liam and Garreth was a petite woman with long straight red hair draped over her shoulders in a stringy mess, a leaf dangling loosely from the end. Her dress looked gray in the colorless night, but she was clearly with child, almost ready to give birth, it would appear, and she wore a pained look on her face. Was Liam imagining it, or did he see a glistening in her eyes? Suddenly, Liam understood what Elim had meant about something, “being in the air.” All three men were traveling with their breeding wives. Seeing the look on the woman’s face, Liam dropped his dagger and Garreth followed suit.

  “What is it that you want, Elim? We need to seek help for my wife. I see you understand her condition. If you choose to make this complicated, I must warn you that Garreth and I will do battle.
But I would prefer not to spill the blood of two serfs and the ‘High King’ on this night, especially in front of his wife.” Liam was looking at him with a dangerous glaze in his eyes and he was certain Elim knew that no benefit would come from attempting to slay two of the kings he hoped to coax under his command. He may not be outnumbered, but his serfs would be of little use against two seasoned warriors. Elim lowered his dagger and shrugged.

  “This is only history repeating itself,” Elim said with a casual shrug. “Did Fiachu not kill his High King to take the title? I am afraid tis the way of things. I am nay criminal, simply the victor of the battle. And I was on the side of right. The Aithech-tuatha had been oppressed too long. They required a member of the higher class to help free them, and I did. How is this wrong?” Just as he could see Liam’s brow furrow and his mouth open to rebuttal, Elim put up a hand to stop him. “If you must know, we are out here tonight because my wife is ready to give birth and we are seeking safe shelter. I have left the rest of my people elsewhere as we sought solitude in the night.”

  Liam looked upon his wife with sympathy. To be a woman in her condition, ready to give birth out here in the woods was surely not ideal. “There is nay tuath within a day’s ride from here. I do not trust you whatsoever, but I can see she needs help and we will not turn her away. If you wish to stay at this camp site with us, you may. However, come the dawn, I must ride off with haste to seek help for my own wife.”

  Elim looked at Liam with skepticism. “Why would you help us?”

  “Because, Elim, I am not an arse. I do not put women in peril because of the decisions of their husbands.”

  “Fair enough, King Liam. Let us all agree to a truce for the moment and put the matter of our wives’ best interests in the forefront, aye?”

  Ceara was in the background changing the damp bandage around her unconscious sister’s head as she obviously listened to the exchange of men. Her gaze connected with Elim’s wife just as a painful contraction rippled through her body and obvious sympathy shone on Ceara’s face. Ceara got up and slowly put a hand out to his wife with a smile. “My name is Ceara.”