by Mia Pride
The threat of impending war did not settle Brennain’s nerves any. How long would it take Mal and the Rómánach army to gather more supplies and start their journey toward Ériu? Tuathal did not suspect it would take long, nor was Brennain inclined to question his king’s judgment. With their timeline for delivering the treasure and arriving home in time too close for comfort, neither man was inclined to stop to rest.
“Was Morna upset when you left this morning?” Reaghan finally asked. They had talked about war all morning and to be honest, Brennain was tired of the subject. Would they not see enough war when they arrived back home? Must they spend every moment of this journey thinking of, or discussing, Mal and his mission?
“She was not happy, but nay, she was not upset. She understands I need to do this. I do believe she was a bit rattled after watching the ritual to open the chest.”
Reaghan grunted and nodded. “Do you not think I was, as well? Normal people do not have the blood of the gods or faeries. Normal people do not stand around watching spells being cast. You are fortunate she did not run for the hills,” he said wryly.
Brennain knew Reaghan was right and he hoped his family would take it easy on Morna while he was away. He knew they would welcome her with open arms… that was his main concern. With so many loud relatives, and with Morna being so shy, he could easily see her becoming overwhelmed by them.
“What of you and Nola,” Brennain asked, turning the subject to something other than him or his family.
Reaghan raised a brow and looked at Brennain with a side-glance as he held the reins for his horse loosely with one hand. “What of me and Nola?”
“Oh, come now,” Brennain said, with a hint of annoyance. Reaghan had been through this entire journey with him from the very beginning. He dressed up as the enemy with him, helped blow up a ship, helped capture Caleb… even helped steal Morna away, yet the man would not so much as speak about his own feelings? “She is a beautiful woman. You protected her, and she took to you quite quickly. You slept under the stars together… tell me you do not like the woman and I shall call you a liar.”
“I like her well enough, Brennain. I have nay interest in more from her if that is where you are going with your line of questioning. She was a woman in need, and I… we helped her, together. My only concern is to see to her well-being and naught more. Unlike you, I do not feel the need to bed every bonny lass who crosses my path.”
Brennain scowled at his friend and tamped down the urge to pummel him. Reaghan was being an ornery arse, but the truth was, before Morna, Brennain did, in fact, try to bed almost every bonnie lass that crossed his path. It would not do well to take offense. Still… “You have nay interest in her at all?”
“Nay,” Reaghan said irritably. “Nor does she have any interest in me. She is frightened of men, Brennain. You saw how she was treated. There is nay part of me that wishes to become involved with a woman who has been mistreated by men. It would be too much for me to watch a woman suffer with fear of me daily. I saw the way Maggie was with your brother. She is better now, but she never went through what Nola has. I doubt Nola has it in her to be with any man, any time soon… which is just as well, for I have nay intention of settling on one woman anytime soon.”
“All right, all right,” Brennain placated. Obviously, Reaghan was wound up. Brennain could understand why. Nola had been treated foully and Reaghan was a man of honor. He was having a hard time dealing with the way she had been treated, and Brennain was also certain that Reaghan did, in fact, have feelings for Nola, no matter what he said. It was clear enough that the man was more than just protective of the lass, yet he seemed to struggle with misplaced guilt as if he did not deserve to have her because all other men had misused her. Or worse, Reaghan feared her rejection simply for being a man. Either way, it was no business of Brennain’s and he vowed to leave it alone.
“I am happy for you, mate. You and Morna truly belong together. You did the right thing getting her and Glennis away from that arse. He was a worthless piece of shite.” There was more vehemence in Reaghan’s voice than expected, and Brennain wondered if that also had to do with the man’s treatment of Nola.
“Aye, he was. Still is… wherever he is.” Brennain had nothing more to say about this subject, either. The thought of Caleb made him sick. The man was a fool. He had everything Brennain ever wanted and had just walked away from it all. Well, Brennain was more than willing to take his place and do a better job of it, too.
Silence descended once more between the men and it was just as well. They both had too much on their mind for idle chat. Brennain’s mind continued to switch between thoughts of the treasure, war, Morna, and hatred for Caleb. None of these thoughts, aside from his bride, settled him at all and he would not feel settled until this bloody treasure was off his hands, the war was over, and Morna was his wife.
How they would fend off the Rómánach, he did not know. It was the first battle where Brennain was not confident they could win, and it left him on edge and more anxious to be done with this mission and return home swiftly. It did not help that he had disappointed his king with his foolish, irrational behavior. He had vowed to keep Morna off his mind but had failed at that yet again. However, he found he needed to revise his vow. He would not, for he could not, keep Morna out of his mind. He would, however, vow that he would stay focused and not allow emotions to affect his work. He could manage his love for a woman and his duties at the same time, could he not? He prayed to all the gods above that he could, for the chest of gold and ancient relics lying beneath a pile of straw just behind him weighed on his mind more than it weighed down the bloody cart carrying it.
* * * *
After three full and exhaustive days of traveling, Brennain started to worry they were traveling in the wrong direction. He had been using the sun to guide them west, but he had yet to find anything that looked like “caves in the sky,” and to make it worse, the cursed spring rains had opened up on them more than once, drenching them and their cargo. Brennain was used to the elements and was not over-bothered by being wet, but without truly knowing where they were headed, the sky darkening with thick clouds, and rain falling in sheets around them turning the earth to thick mud that slowed their cart and tired the horses, he admittedly was more irritated than usual on a journey.
Normally, he had nobody to come home to, no impending war to worry about, no treasure to bury… now this awful weather was only an added burden on his shoulders. Sleeping on the wet forest floor was never pleasant, but last night they could find no covered shelter and had to instead make camp out in the open. The rain had come and gone but mostly held off until an hour ago.
“Are we going the right way?” Reaghan hollered over the sound of rain pelting them from every direction.
“Bollocks if I know,” Brennain responded. “Our directions were to follow the sun to the caves in the sky. Cursed druids and their cursed riddles!”
Lightning flashed across the sky and the horses whinnied, jerking their heads and kicking up their front hooves. Reaghan cursed as he tried to calm his horse down, pulling on the reins as the beast continued to thrash. “Whoa… whoa…” he said quietly, and within moments the horse calmed and began to trot once more.
“I saw something in the distance when the lightning flashed. Just over there…” Brennain pointed to the west and leaned in. “It was a mountain. First one I have seen since last night. Everything else has been flatlands.”
Reaghan squinted into the distance, shielding his eyes with his hand to try to focus through the rain and darkness. “I think I saw it, also.”
“Well, considering it is the only thing I can even blasted see through this storm, I suppose we better at least ride toward it,” Brennain said. “Mayhap we can even find a place to seek shelter. The horses cannot go on much further in this rain.”
Reaghan only nodded his agreement and the men steered the two horses toward the towering hill silhouetted in the distance. Another flash of lightning bro
ught it into relief once more and Brennain frowned. “Is it just me, or did the lightning strike in the exact same place as before?”
“It must be you. Everyone knows lightning cannot strike the same place twice.”
And yet, it had. Brennain could not see much, but he was fairly certain of what he saw… although it could be his mind playing tricks on him. It was dark, and he was exhausted. He needed some sleep and to wait out this storm so they could pursue the caves on the morrow. They had to be close. If they traveled much further they would end up on the coast, which was too far west. He knew the caves were more inland.
As they approached the sloping hillside, they found a small ledge that served well enough as a shelter for the cart, and the horses were more than happy to be relieved of their duty for the day, having fresh grass to graze on and a large hole that had filled with fresh clean water they were all enjoying.
“This rain is unnerving,” Reaghan said with a shiver before shaking his head, throwing water in every direction. “’Tis as if it came from nowhere and the more I think on it, the more I do believe that lighting may have struck in the same place. Did you notice anything else?”
“What exactly? I was so focused on finding shelter I do not think I paid attention to much else.”
“There was nay thunder, Brennain. Lightning struck above this mountain twice yet there was nay thunder. How can that be?”
Brennain frowned and looked up, but all he saw was the mossy underside of the ledge of rock they stood beneath. He could not recall hearing thunder, come to think of it, but mayhap it had been drowned out by the pounding rain? Or the hooves of the horses, even if they had sloshed more against the mud than anything else. Still, there had to be an explanation. They simply did not hear it.
“I think we both need some rest. We are losing our blasted minds out here. In the morn we will hopefully have clear skies and clear heads.”
Reaghan shook his head once more and this time water splattered across Brennain’s face, though he did not complain since he was already soaking wet. “Aye. I agree. There is something about this place that is not right, mate.”
Brennain stepped out from beneath the ledge to examine the land once more and attempt to survey the top of the mysterious mountain. A chill ran up his neck and he looked around. There was nothing but rolling grassy hills as far as he could see, which was not far at all in this rain, but before the sky had opened on them, he could see quite well… and it had been wide open land, aside from this strange mountain now being struck by lightning for the third time. Reaghan growled and Brennain jumped. The storm was straight above him and yet… he paused and strained his ears. “No cursed thunder,” Brennain remarked, stepping back beneath the ledge for shelter.
“Aye, ‘tis not natural. Mayhap we should go. I would rather be soaking wet than somehow slip into the Otherworld through a faery mound.”
“My family is part faery, Reaghan,” Brennain reminded his companion, and quirked a brow.
“Aye. You come from the good kind of faery. I am speaking of those wee nasty buggers who hate humans and will burn my arse for leaning against their favorite rock.”
“You listen to too many bard’s tales, Reaghan.”
“Aye… mayhap so, but after what I saw at your aunt’s house, I know magic exists and I will be damned if a faery will singe my bollocks off on this night.”
Shaking his head, Brennain scoffed. Humans had a strange understanding of faeries, but he had no energy to explain such things to his companion. The more he thought about it, the more the storm did seem strange and unnatural. It had come on swiftly and violently the moment this strange mountain came into view.
“Listen, why don’t we rest and then on the morrow—”
Lightning struck once more from straight above them, lighting up the sky… and again, no thunder. Suddenly, a shrill sound echoed from the top of the mountain. Brennain stepped out from the shelter and looked up into the sky, furrowing his brow when he saw ravens circling about the mountain, continuing to cry eerily. Why would they circle in one spot over the mountain during a lightning storm? Something wasn’t right. Then, it hit him as hard as the lightning that crashed against the same spot on the mountain for the fifth time.
“Reaghan! This is it! It must be!” A thrill ran through Brennain and he suddenly understood what was happening. “Lugh. Do you not remember?”
Reaghan looked at Brennain as if he had grown two heads. “What are you going on about? Tuathal mentioned Lugh, aye. What does he have to do with this storm?”
“Everything, I suspect. He is the god of storms after all, and associated with ravens. Why else would a storm suddenly appear? Lightning crashing repeatedly over one spot on this mountain? Ravens not fleeing, but staying to circle above, calling for our attention? This is it, Reaghan. It bloody well must be.”
“I think you are right, mate,” Reaghan whispered as he stepped closer. “So, what now? We must wait until dawn. We cannot possibly see anything until then.”
“Aye, agreed.” Though Brennain felt excitement course through him, and a feeling of rightness that the god Lugh was calling to them, he knew he must be patient and wait. There was no sense in coming all this way, only to become injured or make a grave error in their haste.
The men removed their soggy cloaks and laid down their semi-dry plaids that had been shielded from the rain within their leather satchels. As he looked up at the mossy ledge above his head, he thought of Morna and wondered how she had fared without him for the last three days but knew his family would take good care of her and Glennis.
With them on his mind and his goal close at hand, he closed his eyes and allowed peace to wash over him. All they had to do was get up this hill in the morning, bury the treasure, then he would be back to his bride… and face a war.
* * * *
“There are too many bloody caverns!” Brennain roared with aggravation, certain mud was splattered all over his face, just as it was all over his still-soaking wet clothing. They had awoken at dawn and once the clouds had moved on and left a crystal blue sky filled with the rays of a new day, it was clear to see that the mountain towering over them had a row of several dark holes at the top… like caves in the sky. More than ever, Brennain knew this was the place and knew that the storm had been created just to guide them to their destination. The gods were awaiting their treasure and Brennain would be more than happy to give it to them if there were not sixteen cursed caverns in a row at the top of the mountain.
“Mayhap it does not matter which cavern we bury it in…” Reaghan dropped his end of the heavy chest, forcing Brennain to put his down, as well. If he looked anything like Reaghan did at this moment, then he looked like utter shite. Reaghan took a deep breath as he bent over and rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “I care not where we bury this cursed chest, so long as I never see it again.” The shovels clutched tightly in their other hands were also becoming a burden, but Brennain held his relentlessly, determined to finish his task and be on his way home.
With a grunt, Brennain put his hands on his hips and looked around. The sun was beaming down on them, yet the wind was determined to thrash their hair and cloaks about. Looking down he felt slightly dizzy. They had spent a few hours slowly trudging up the muddy hillside, slipping with almost every step. His body hurt everywhere, and he had blisters on his hands from gripping the iron handle of the chest for so long. “Well, we should at least bury it in one of the inner caverns. We cannot very well place it in the first cavern we see. We have come all this way and must do this right.”
“And what exactly is right, Brennain? Did Tuathal or the druid say which cave?”
“Nobody mentioned more than one cave. I did not expect so many.” He itched his scalp where the mud had dried and ran his other hand through his disheveled beard, carefully searching the area all around. “Let us continue further and mayhap we can just choose one.”
With a nod and a groan, Reaghan picked up his side of the c
hest once more and Brennain did the same, following his companion. They passed a few more caverns, some appearing small and separate, some much larger and connecting inside to the one next to it.
“Look at the rocks over here,” Reaghan said, and kicked some of the gravel with his boot. “They look charred and have strange patterns scattered across their surface. As if they were—”
“Struck by lightning?”
“Repeatedly, aye,” Reaghan answered. Brennain looked up to the top of the cavern directly to his left and took a deep breath as his heart began to pound. A raven cawed at him and then several more chimed in, directing his gaze to the black feathers flapping and covering the entire top that he could see. His gaze moved from the ravens above to the blackened rocks below. None of the rocks in the rest of the area looked like these.
“This is the cavern the lighting struck last night,” Brennain whispered.
“Aye and the ravens are still here. I think Lugh wants his spear back.” Brennain could not even speak, so instead, he gulped loudly and nodded his head and slowly stepped into the cavern. He could feel the power of the gods vibrating off the cold stone walls as the sound of run-off water dripped in the corner.
This cavern was not only connected with another, but it seemed to go deeper into the shadows. “I can sense the magic in this cave, Reaghan.”
“I will have to take your word for it, mate. I don’t have the blood of gods or faeries in my veins. I can tell you that this place is frigid, and I prefer to be on our way. Can we bury this chest once and for all and move on with our lives? I would rather face Mal and the Rómánach on the battlefield than spend more time than necessary in this eerie cave.”