by Mia Pride
Though Brennain found the cavern rather majestic and soothing, he had to respect his companion’s wishes, and he did agree that the sooner this was done, the sooner they could be on their way.
As Brennain’s shovel connected with the hard-packed earth and reverberated from the impact, jolting his body, he focused on the one thought that allowed him to keep going: When he returned to Ráth Mór, Morna would be waiting for him in a beautiful dress and he meant what he had said. The moment he arrived, he would make her his bride.
* * * *
Morna tried to take deep breaths and stay focused on her work as a healer at Ráth Mór, but every day her nerves became a little more brittle as she awaited Brennain’s return. Was he all right? Had he succeeded? Would they make it back before Mal’s army arrived?
Word had come from some of Tuathal’s other scouts that Mal and the Rómánach had loaded more supplies and had already landed on Ériu soil, marching toward them. Any day now the enemy would be upon them. Selfishly, she hoped Brennain would be delayed so he did not need to risk his life in a battle, yet she knew he was one of their best warriors and Tuathal needed him. She also knew Brennain had been upset by his failures before and would be most angry if he missed a chance to redeem himself.
Hundreds of men, if not more had shown up and made camp outside of Ráth Mór’s towering gates in the last few days, pledging fealty to their High King and honoring their alliances. This war was the end. This was not a small cattle raid or tribal feud. This war meant survival for all Ériu and that meant it was time for every tuatha and tribe to come together, put old feuds aside, and fight for their High King.
Even men from Miathi had crossed the sea, as had several other tribes from Alba that wished to fight for freedom. After all, the Rómánach threatened their land, as well. When she saw King Ailbert arrive, she worried that Caleb would be with him, but had been informed that Caleb went missing once more, which should not have been a shock to her, yet it did prove that he only came back because he had been forced to. Brennain had been correct. The moment Brennain left Miathi, Caleb would have abandoned her and Glennis once more. More than ever, she was thankful for Brennain’s unwavering love and confidence. His bold move to steal her away had been the best thing to happen to her. Now, as promised, she had worn her soft blue linen wedding dress for the past two days, awaiting his arrival and hoping he would be pleased to see her ready to say her vows to him.
“You seem much distracted.” Elwynna winked at her knowingly and grinned. Elwynna had quickly become a wonderful companion to Morna, being another woman from outside Ráth Mór and also a healer. She had married Àdhamh, who Morna remembered from Clarice’s trial two years ago. She also happened to be Mal Mac Rochride’s daughter and under constant threat.
It was no secret that Mal wanted his daughter back and had now promised her to Eoghann, despite her marriage to Àdhamh and their unborn child. It was also not a secret that to Mal, Elwynna was nothing more than a pawn in his plan for power. She could marry Eoghann and beget an heir.
“You know why,” Morna sighed, as she muddled more herbs, preparing a jar of poultice for an injured warrior’s leg. “’Tis been a full sennight. Brennain should return any day and the news of the marching army has me on edge. How are you so calm, knowing your father wishes to take you from Àdhamh and give you to Eoghann? He is a foul man.”
Elwynna just shrugged as she folded clean linens and placed them neatly in her basket. “I am not at all pleased, but I know I am safe here. As long as Àdhamh and Tuathal and every other man in Ráth Mór have a say, we will all be safe. If my father crosses the lines and pillages Ráth Mór, we have more issues than him taking me away. I am much more concerned for the other people. I can handle myself where my father is concerned. He won’t allow harm to come to me. Do not misinterpret my outer calm as a lack of fear. I fear very much for my husband and our people, I just cannot worry for myself right now.”
Morna put down her mortar and pestle to wipe her damp hands on a linen towel. “Do you think we might truly lose?”
Elwynna frowned and shook her head. “I cannot know. My father is determined to be High King and it sounds as if he has aligned himself with an enemy even Tuathal may not defeat. Àdhamh says they have come up with a plan to frighten off the Rómánach… something about using their fears and judgments against them. If they think we are savages, we shall act like savages?” Elwynna shrugged and picked up her basket. “He did not seem to want to say more.”
“Flynn said the same thing!” Maggie finally added, as she boiled more linens near the cauldron. Morna had made it part of her daily routine to gather with Maggie and Elwynna to work on their healing chores. Clarice came by often to chat but was much too busy with her two wee lads and a small farm she worked with Jeoffrey. “Flynn says they plan to scare the Rómánach away by acting wild! I do not know what he means, but it is said they think us crazed people, and the Picts in Alba have done a fine job scaring them away… why can’t we? I think it is our best chance.”
“’Tis hard to be a warrior’s wife, is it not?” Morna asked, wondering how these women were so strong, knowing their husbands may die in battle. Brennain was not even back from his mission, nor was he her husband or the father of her child, yet the bile threatened to consume her. She bent over and took a deep breath, trying to control her rising panic.
“Morna…” Elwynna said gently as she placed a hand on her shoulder. “’Tis very hard. But we must trust in their skill and that they willingly fight for their people. There is great honor in it. All we can do is pray to the gods that we will be the victors and our men remain safe.”
Maggie nodded, her blonde curls bouncing around her round face as steam from the boiling water surrounded her, blurring her features.
“I suppose I will have to become stronger,” Morna murmured. “And pray this is the last battle we face for a long while.”
“Aye,” her companions said in unison.
Just then, the door burst open and Aislin flew in, her wild red waves trailing behind her and a bow clutched in her fist. “Morna!” she panted and held her side. “Your husband has arrived.”
Morna’s heart leaped in her throat and she clutched her chest. “Brennain is back?” She smoothed her skirts and shakily ran a hand through her blonde waves to tame them as much as possible. Loud voices rose outside and she frowned. The voices sounded angry.
Aislin shook her head sadly. “Nay. Not Brennain. The other one?”
With a loud gasp, Morna stepped back and bumped into the table behind her. “Nay… nay ‘tis not possible.”
“He says he wants his daughter and—”
“Nay! He cannot have her!” Morna shouted, panic rising with every heartbeat. “He does not even care for her! He just wants revenge on Brennain!”
Tuathal stepped through the door with a grave look on his face, Caleb beside him looking weatherworn and smug.
“You cannot have her!” Morna charged at him, but Elwynna and Aislin held her back as she thrashed and clawed at the air just before his face. “You piece of shite… bastard… lout… bloody arse! You cannot have her!”
“She is my daughter by blood. Not yours. You and your lover had nay right to take her. Even your king cannot prevent me from taking her.”
Morna looked at Tuathal whose features were dark and brooding, but she couldn’t read his thoughts. “You… you cannot allow him to take Glennis! He does not love her! He is the enemy! Why is he here… he fights for Mal!”
“What? I most certainly do not,” Caleb scoffed, and had the nerve to look offended. “You know very well I am an informant for King Ailbert. He has already told you as much and has already said as much to King Tuathal here.”
A strangled sob escaped from Morna’s throat as she thrashed some more. “Liar! You did not arrive with the Miathi army! Why?”
“Because I was off seeking you. I went on my own, before the army and became lost. It took me a few days to find my way back. Now th
at I am here, I will be taking my daughter. You may accompany me or not, but I am not leaving without her.”
“Nay!” Tears rolled down Morna’s face and her vision blurred. “King Tuathal! Please! Do something!”
Tuathal shoved Caleb inside and glared at the other women in the room. “Leave now,” he commanded in a tone that nobody in their right mind would defy, even though Aislin did have the courage to balk at him and roll her eyes.
“We will be just outside, Morna,” Aislin reassured. “Men and their games of power,” she spat, following the others out and slamming the door.
“Morna.” The way King Tuathal said her name with such calm was unnerving and did not bode well.
“Nay… nay… do not listen to him. He is a liar and a manipulator!”
“But I am not a thief or a vagrant, like your precious Brennain. He can have you, but he cannot have my child. He had nay right to take her,” Caleb said calmly, with no emotion. This truly was a game for him. He did this because he could.
“This is a trap! He knows I will not allow him to take her without me! He knows I will go! He is with Mal and as soon as he has us, he will use us against you! I vow it! I know it!”
Tuathal scowled at Caleb. “I do not trust him either, Morna, but we have nay true evidence that he is with Mal. King Ailbert insists he is with his army, is under his command, is nay more than an informant much like Brennain is to me, and that the child is well known to be his. I knew this was a possibility. I told Brennain this could happen,” Tuathal spat, and Morna covered her eyes with her hands and sobbed, knowing already that she was going to have to leave.
“He doesn’t love her…” she mumbled into her hands.
“Brennain stole my daughter and a Rómánach slave. I know Marcella is here somewhere.”
“Nola! You dirty piece of shite! Her name is Nola! You do not even know her true name! She is not a slave!”
“Aye! She is,” Caleb countered. “And having her here only adds to Ráth Mór’s danger. The Rómánach do not take kindly to the stealing of their property, nor do I.”
“They are humans, Caleb. Not property,” Tuathal barked, causing Caleb to flinch for the first time.
Putting up his hands in placation, Caleb smirked. “I know this well enough but the Rómánach do not see it that way. To them, she is the spoils of their war and your men took her. They do not know she is here and I vow I will leave it alone… but I demand my daughter.”
“Nay!” Morna screamed at the top of her lungs and charged at Caleb, this time with nobody to hold her back in time. She scratched his face with her nails and kicked him in the shin before Tuathal grabbed her and pulled her back.
“Morna, listen to me, lass.” Tuathal’s voice was low and comforting, but it still held an edge she did not like. “Look at me.”
Slowly, she wiped the tears from her eyes but couldn’t stop the churning in her stomach or the pain in her heart. Was she never to have her own happiness? “I have nay choice, do I?” Her voice cracked, and she sniffled.
“You do have a choice, but I know what you will choose. You must know I would fight for you and Glennis to the death if it would not cause yet another war, but the truth remains that Glennis is his daughter and Brennain was foolish to steal her away. She is a citizen of Miathi as long as Caleb claims her, and King Ailbert cannot allow this any more than I could allow a man from another village to steal away another man’s child. I have nay recourse but to allow Glennis’s natural father to take her back. I am sorry, Morna. I prayed Caleb wouldn’t come, for I knew if he did, I would have nay power. Not even the High King of Ériu can keep a man’s child without causing a war. Even now, we have Mal fighting to get his grown married daughter back… even if for the wrong reasons. While he is in the wrong, I am afraid Caleb has the right of this…”
Caleb sniggered beside him and Tuathal sent him a look that would scare the skin off a snake. “Even if Caleb is a horse’s arse,” Tuathal growled, wiping the smirk off Caleb’s face.
“So, then, Morna. You heard your High King. I am taking Glennis. Are you coming or staying?” he glowered.
Morna never in her entire life felt more desperate or backed into a corner. Caleb and Tuathal both knew she would not allow him to take Glennis. Looking up at Tuathal, she said softly, “I will pack my things. Please, allow my mother to stay here? She is too old and frail to make that journey once more. I know she will protest, but nothing but misery awaits her if she leaves. I have never seen her so happy and free.”
Tuathal nodded his head. “She is most welcome if she chooses to stay.”
“She will stay because I do not plan on giving her a choice,” Morna forced. “I will not drag her into this misery and I know as well as anyone that once we are back in Miathi, Caleb will leave us once more with nothing. At least here, my mother has people to care for her. Trust me in this. She is better here.” Tuathal frowned and she knew he felt uncomfortable not allowing Elsbeth a choice, but he seemed to understand the truth in her words and nodded solemnly.
Looking over her shoulder, Morna looked at the bed in the corner where her daughter rested peacefully in sleep, not having any idea that she was going to be taken away once more. She would never remember Brennain and that she once had a real chance at a better life with a father who would truly love her. Mayhap that was for the best. As much as Morna loved Brennain and would relive his gentle touch and smoldering eyes for the rest of her life, she knew she could never, would never, leave Glennis’s side. The few memories they had made would have to last a lifetime.
She wished Brennain had arrived so she could see his face one last time, but this was the way it should be if she had to go. Brennain would try to kill Caleb and mayhap be killed in the process or start a war. “Tuathal, please tell Brennain that I love him, but he should not come looking for me. He should find a woman who is free to love him.”
With those final words, she begged the men to step outside so she could change into her older dress, pack up her satchel, and scoop her sleeping daughter into her arms, while silent tears streamed down her face. “Please forgive me, Brennain,” she whispered into the wind as she stepped out of his house for the last time and tucked her head low, too heartbroken to make eye contact with any of the people she had come to love as family.
“Morna! Do not go…” Una urged, and ran up to her, yanking on her arm. It broke Morna’s heart and she dared to look up into Una’s watery green eyes.
Brocc stepped up and cut Caleb off mid-stride, along with Brennain’s large uncles on either side. Soon, every man in Brennain’s family had formed a wall in front of them, denying their leave.
“I must…” Morna urged quietly. “I cannot lose my daughter.” Looking behind Una, she saw a mixture of pain and anger on the faces of Brennain’s female kin and she hoped that anger was for Caleb and not herself, for she already loved them all too much to face their scorn. But she was never meant to have a family. Her future would be a bleak one, but as long as she had Glennis, she would survive, even if her heart ached every day for a man across the sea.
“Give them leave,” Tuathal shouted from behind her, and she jumped at his sudden commanding voice. “The man is Glennis’s father and has been vouched for by his king.” Tuathal’s voice lowered. “We have nay choice but to let him take his daughter back. And where Glennis goes, so shall Morna.”
Defeat flickered in Brennain’s family’s eyes, but they slowly stepped away, having no other option. As long as Caleb was Glennis’s papa, neither did Morna.
Chapter Fifteen
Glennis clung to Morna tightly as she wailed for the man who she had come to think of as her papa. The moment her eyes had opened and connected with Caleb’s familiar visage, she had begun to scream and dig her nails into Morna. More than ever, Morna knew she was making the right choice. Caleb was not fit to be Glennis’s father and the lass needed her there to shield her from a lifetime of pain.
“Make her shut her mouth,” Caleb shouted as he k
ept a tight grip on Morna’s arm, dragging her through the woods just outside the gates of Ráth Mór.
“If you cannot stand her wails then mayhap you should leave us alone, Caleb. You have made your point. I know you do not want either of us.”
Caleb jerked her to a stop and she stumbled on a protruding root but quickly righted herself. “I do not, but he does. If he thinks he can take what belongs to me, he will soon realize that not even the son of a Sister of Danu can just take what he wants, when he wants. He saw fit to drag me back to my family, then take my family away?” Caleb laughed, and shook his head. “If he wanted me to be with you, then I shall be, just to spite him. Mayhap next time he will mind his own business.”
Morna jerked out of his grip and shifted Glennis in her arms. “You are not going back to the Miathi camp, are you?”
“Of course not,” Caleb said matter-of-factly.
“So, then we are going to meet up with Mal?”
Caleb stopped again and looked at her. “Nay. Not to him either. I want nothing to do with this war one way or another. I played both sides equally. I am trusted in both camps yet have nay loyalty to any of them.”
Morna scowled at him. “You seem to have nay loyalties to anyone, then.”
“Aye. ‘Tis better that way.”
“Well, then… where are you bringing me and Glennis?” Apprehension flooded her. She knew Caleb was not a murderer or prone to violence. She did not believe he would harm her or Glennis, still, she knew he would not simply take them somewhere else and stay with them as a family. Nay, his need to take them away had been for nothing more than control.
“Somewhere your lover will never find you.”
“Oh? And you are going to stay with us?” She already knew the answer to that.
Caleb looked at her as if there was something disgusting hanging out of her nose and scoffed. “Of course not. I have a tuath in mind… far from the coast, where you and Glennis can start over. As for me, I prefer to be on my own. I will find somewhere else.”