by Heidi Hanley
“I can walk, Silas, if you help me. Just give me a minute.”
He carried her to a boulder outside of the circle and sat, holding her on his lap and stroking her hair as she recovered. She settled into the sanctuary of his arms, reassured by the familiar beating of his heart.
“What happens next, Silas?”
“We save the king and the kingdom.”
Chapter Fourteen
Whither Thou Goest
Daylight was far from breaking but seeing that everyone was up, Sigel had decided they may as well head for Moiria.
“Will I see you again, Cailleach?” Briana cinched the belt holding her sword Nua, her nickname for Nuada.
“Of course. I’ll meet you at the castle.”
“If I lived a million years I couldn’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us – for me. I’ll miss you.”
Cailleach held Briana away from her and searched her eyes. “You’re ready.”
“I am.”
“Go in peace and good health, Your Majesty.” She hugged Briana and patted Dara affectionately, urging him toward his mistress.
“Here’s your pack, milady,” Silas said, easing the load over her shoulders and waiting for her to adjust the fit.
Cailleach’s cabin disappeared within minutes of being on the trail. The trio kept a steady pace along a well-hidden trail, heading south for the small town of Moiria.
Silence was easy to maintain in the aftermath of destiny not only knocking at her door, but blowing it wide open. Time for her to put on her big girl boots and get serious about things.
You’re awfully quiet.
Thinking.
She was a queen – would be, anyway. Not a job she’d ever desired or even thought about. Even now, it sounded more like a prison sentence than an honor. Yet, she’d agreed to do whatever it took to save this kingdom, including letting go of the man she loved. What she really wanted was to run away with Silas to a nice little thatched-roof cottage somewhere and raise babies. He was a part of her, but a part she’d learn to live without. It had seemed so easy last night, in the mysterious green light of the Uisneach Tree, to agree to accept her role as queen and heroine of a cursed realm, to choose duty over the desire of her heart. In the light of day, with that desire in front of her and the threat of an evil army behind – not so much.
Following Silas along the trail, she enjoyed the sensual, feline grace of his movements as he hopped over rocks, forded small streams and reached for tree limbs to scramble up a ravine. She watched the play of muscle across his back, down to his hips and buttocks. Her mind drifted to forbidden places. The fantasies became more graphic, involving a fireplace and bearskin rug. Stop it already! In reality she had committed herself to play Guinevere to Uisneach’s King Arthur. The last thing she wanted for Silas was to play Lancelot. I will let him go. I will forget him.
Who’s Lancelot?
She sighed. You are.
He turned and smiled, decimating her good intentions. I will try to let go and forget.
The loud sound of rushing water led them to a wide brook. “We need to cross,” said Sigel, “but that last rain has made it higher than usual.”
“I’ll scout upstream and try to find a better place,” Silas said, dropping his pack and sprinting away. After only a couple of minutes he was back, looking anxious.
“What’s wrong?” Sigel asked.
“That won’t be the best way to cross unless you want to skirmish with Shamwa’s friends. There’s a dozen of them about a half mile northeast.”
“We need to move fast then,” Sigel said, heading south as he spoke. “Come on, then. We’ll find a crossing farther downstream.”
Minutes later, he found a manageable section, though Briana had her doubts. The boulders looked too far apart for her to make it across the racing water. She looked at her companions dubiously.
I can’t do this, she thought. I’ve lost Daddy, Mother and now Silas. How much more must I give up? How much more can I endure? She stared at the water, rushing along in front of her, threatening to take her soul and carry it far downstream to be released into a fearful, lonely ocean.
“For Maker’s sake, Briana, just jump!” Sigel said. “We don’t have time for this.”
Gripped by fear, uncertainty and loss, she stood rooted to the path until she saw Silas, on the other side, calmly extend his hand. No endless sea to drown her pitiable soul, but the safe harbor of a poetic druid, welcoming and shielding… home. He understood.
“Come with me, Briana.”
The faint echo of a Bible verse wafted through her mind: Whither thou goest, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people. If Silas led her through the bowels of hell, she’d follow him.
Not follow, my queen, lead. “You can do this. Sigel, can you give her a boost from your side?”
Sigel took hold of her waist, preparing to give her some lift over. She reached for Silas’s hand. “I suppose if I can cross a death-defying gorge over a rainbow bridge, I can manage this.” With one’s nudge and the other’s firm grasp, she made it across.
Silas squeezed her hand and gave her an encouraging smile.
A second behind her was Sigel, followed effortlessly by Dara.
“Should we check the map again?” She was already reaching into the bag for it.
Sigel moved out in front. “Be quick about it. We need to keep moving. I suspect they’d prefer to waylay us out here and not come into Moiria after us, so we need to get into town.”
Sigel set a fast pace that left no room for ruminations. The trees thinned and soon they were walking through a meadow painted with wildflowers. Exposure forced them to walk a little more warily, the men and Dara keeping Briana well protected between them.
When it was safe and her emotions were under control, she asked about Moiria, eager to visit her first real town since Baigsith.
“What are the people like?”
Sigel talked as he walked. “Mostly like us, though a few gnomes call it home, as well. They’re a friendly sort, so much so that in a village of about a hundred folks, you’ll find twenty pubs.”
“Must like their booze,” she joked.
“Nah,” he said, “not so much that as they love to socialize. They’d talk the wool off sheep.”
“Do they have a doctor?”
“Are you sick, Briana?” Silas asked, with concern.
“No, just curious.” She stubbed her toe on a root and swore.
Sigel listed off a few businesses, including a merchandise store, millinery and a bakery. “They have a bookshop, too. You’d enjoy it if we had more time.”
“I suppose we’ll stay at the Howlin’ Wolf Tavern,” Silas said, looking sideways at Sigel.
Sigel harrumphed. “They do have the best stew and bread in town.”
“I could go for a bowl of hot soup right about now,” Briana agreed amiably, wondering why Silas looked suddenly nervous.
“I smell wood smoke,” she said to Sigel, who was pulling her back into the tree line. Silas moved ghostlike amidst the pines and closer to the source. “Only a wee farm house,” he said, upon rejoining them. “Doesn’t appear to be anythin’ devious about it.”
Nevertheless, they approached the empty yard slowly. Silas hollered out a greeting with no response. He looked back at his companions with a raised eyebrow.
The hair on Briana’s neck rose. With a fire in the hearth, surely someone was home? Sigel moved in closer to her, keeping her between the two men as they neared the door.
Silas spoke again. Still no answer. He entered the darkened abode. Briana held her breath as she followed him into the eerie emptiness. The fire was nearly burned out, its scent overpowered by something scorched in the pot hanging near the fire. Broken glass littered the floor. As her eyes acclimated to the dim room, she found bedding crumpled and dragged across the floor, an overturned barrel and bloody footprints.
“Where do you suppose the people have gone?” Silas aske
d.
A whimper came from a dark corner.
Briana stepped in the direction of the sound, but Silas stepped in front of her and moved toward the heap of quilts. Dropping to one knee, he carefully pulled down the edge of the quilt to reveal the terrified face of a woman who shrank back as far as she could.
“It’s okay, Missus,” he said, softly. “We mean you no harm.”
Sigel passed Silas a lit candle. The woman’s face was badly bruised, with one eye swollen shut. A thin line of blood trickled from her mouth. When she clenched her arms tighter around her middle, a feeling of dread gripped Briana. That was the move of a woman holding a baby.
“Silas, you better let me,” she murmured. When he stepped out of the way, she moved and knelt beside the woman. “I’m Briana. Is your baby okay?” Fearful eyes gazed up at Briana. “We’re here to help. Can I see your wee one?”
The woman seemed to relax slightly at Briana’s reassuring tone and nodded, allowing Briana to slide the quilt down lower, revealing an infant tucked against her breast. The baby was an ominous blue color, smeared in blood. Lifeless.
“She’s not nursing,” the woman said, tonelessly.
Briana bit her lip.
Don’t cry, a mhuirnin, she needs your strength and comfort.
Briana took the limp baby from the woman. The girl had no obvious injuries. Where did the blood come from? “Are you injured anywhere besides your face, milady?”
The woman pulled the quilt down to her legs revealing a staggering amount of blood on her gown, from chest to thigh. The sight of it rocked Briana back on her heels. Nothing in her life had prepared her to triage the needs in this cottage, but she intuitively ordered Sigel to get the fire stoked, heat a pot of water and find clean linen to use as a towel. She transferred the baby to Silas with instructions to wash the baby once the water was warm. When the men set about their tasks, she turned back to the woman.
“What’s your name, Missus?”
“Mary Keary.”
“Mary, I need to examine you. Is that okay?”
Mary made eye contact and nodded, allowing Briana to raise her dress. Bruises painted a vicious picture across her body, as did the heavy blood stains between her thighs. She’d been brutally raped, possibly by more than one man.
“Who did this, Mary?” she asked, quietly.
“Don’t know their names, but they was with the Gray Military. I knew by their clothes.” A single tear rolled down the woman’s battered and probably broken cheek. “They took my man. When he went with them, two came back and… Can I have Evie back?”
“We’re going to bathe her.”
Ask her about Artanin.
“Did the druid hurt you?”
Mary shook her head. “He came back in and made them stop. But he was the one who wanted to know if the lord marshall had come by here.” Her eyes darted to Sigel. “That’s you, ain’t it, sir?”
Sigel only grunted a response and Briana affirmed it for her. “What did he say?”
Silas handed her a bowl of warm water. She began cleaning Mary’s face.
Wincing, Mary said, “We was having breakfast when they arrived – busted inside without a knock. Eight men and Druid Artanin. They asked if we’d seen the lord marshall and a woman. I heard one man say ‘the Mouse,’ but Artanin hit him and he shut up.” The woman’s eyes grew wide. “Is that you? Are you the Mouse?”
Briana nodded but kept washing Mary down her throat to her chest. Please look for a clean dress, she asked Silas.
“Oh, Maker. Kenneth said he heard you was here. When the druid asked about you, Kenneth told them you’d been here yesterday and headed toward the mountains.”
That’s why they were going that way, Silas said, handing her a gown.
“They said Kenneth must come with them and join the army or they would kill me and Evie. I begged him not to go, but he told me he loved me and went.
“A couple of minutes later two men came back in and grabbed me. Evie was crying and one of them did something that made her stop. I tried to help her but one pinned me down and… there was nothing I could do, milady. They only stopped when the druid came in and pulled them off me. But he didn’t do anything else to help, just left us.
“When they was gone, I went to Evie and been trying to get her to nurse; she be only a couple of months old, but she won’t suck and she’s awful cold. Will she be all right, milady?”
Briana eased the clean dress over Mary’s head. Other than the trauma from the sexual violation and the body bruising, there were no other injuries. Briana took a deep breath and took Mary’s hands. “We’re going to give Evie to you, Mary, but you must know she’s dead.” Saying the word was the hardest thing Briana had ever done, but necessary to help the woman begin to accept the reality of it.
“No,” Mary whispered, the word full of contradictory understanding. Silas handed Mary the infant, washed and wrapped in a small blanket. Silent tears fell, daring sound to flout the holiness of the moment. Briana sat by, giving the mother all the time and space she needed to begin the grieving that would go on long after she was away from this tragedy.
Sigel, on the other hand, was clearly growing anxious to go. “Missus, do you have family in the village?”
Mary nodded, but clutched the baby tighter. “I can’t go. I can’t leave my baby girl here alone.”
“You can’t stay here,” Sigel said. “It’s not safe.”
Shaking her head, the mother repeated, “I’ll stay with Evie.”
“What’s the name of your family in Moiria?” Silas asked.
“Heaney. My sister’s husband is Seamus Heaney.”
“We’re not far from Moiria, Sigel,” Silas said. “I could stay here with Missus Keary and you could send her sister to her. I’ll meet you later at the tavern.”
Sigel agreed. Though Briana was hesitant to leave the woman, she knew they had to move on. The best people to help Mary Keary bury her child and mourn her loss were her own family.
“Mary, I am so sorry for what’s happened. I promise you we will do our best to capture Lord Shamwa’s army and bring Kenneth back to you.”
“You’re going to be the queen, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Briana was shocked at how easily the response came. “And we will end the terrible pain Shamwa and his men are inflicting on Uisneach.”
Giving Silas one last, sad look, she followed Sigel and headed for Moiria, leaving the bard to put everything else in order in the cottage and offer comfort to the grieving mother.
Once they were a distance from the Keary cottage, Sigel asked, “Are you okay?”
“Fine. Can we rescue her husband?”
Sigel shook his head. “As soon as they find out he lied about us passing by in the opposite direction, they’ll kill him.”
Briana thought about that for a minute. “Do you think he knew that?”
“Aye, he did it purposely to throw them off track. You see, Briana, you have people all over this kingdom willing to do whatever it takes to protect you and save their king.”
The weight of that responsibility crashed down upon her. How could she even consider not seeing this through?
“Come on, we still have a lot to do today. We really don’t have time for missions of mercy.”
You’re wrong about that, Sigel, this entire journey is a mission of mercy.
Chapter Fifteen
Crossroads
Sounds of village life greeted them as they came over a slight knoll and saw Moiria, a delightful hamlet of homes and shops. The path turned to cobblestone as they came into the town proper. In the middle of town was a cheery fountain with a sculpture of three goddesses spouting water from their mouths. Storefronts lined up along both sides of the main street, each boasting a different, brightly colored door. Like Baigsith, a profusion of window boxes and gardens decorated the windows, stoops and terraces of nearly every cottage and shop. Children scampered around the town, playing their games, being spoken to and occasionally
cuffed by adults. A few people hailed Sigel.
All of this would have delighted Briana under normal circumstances, but the occurrence at the Keary home had flushed any enthusiasm from her.
“That’s the Heaney home,” Sigel said, pointing to a small cottage beyond the milliner’s.
After delivering the news as respectfully and kindly as possible, and being assured that Mr. and Mrs. Heaney were on their way to help Mary, Sigel and Briana continued to the tavern.
The Howling Wolf was a quaint establishment, built entirely of old lichen- and ivy-covered stone. The tavern’s name was painted in bold red letters across a full moon. Carved into the moon was a ferocious looking, gape-mouthed wolf. They walked through a low stone wall that enclosed a courtyard guarded over by a huge chestnut tree. Entering the dimly lit bar, they were welcomed by Hugh and Eleanor McPhee, proprietors. Lots of backslapping occurred between the men. Mrs. McPhee immediately set two tankards of ale on a table.
“Where’s Silas?” she asked.
“He’ll be along,” Sigel said, without divulging any details of what happened. The danger inherent in the close proximity of Gray Military should’ve been cause for alarm, so Briana was surprised he didn’t mention it. Mrs. McPhee was solicitous of Briana even before she knew who she was, but once she was introduced to “the Mouse of the Prophecy,” she couldn’t have done enough to make her comfortable.
“Oh, my goodness gracious, what an honor to have you here, milady.”
“Please call me Briana.”
“You will be the queen one day; such familiarity wouldn’t be proper.”
Briana smiled weakly. A lovely young woman with coppery hair brought a plate of cheese and bread.
“Where’s Silas?” she asked, and received a cursory response from Sigel.
Briana rolled her eyes when the third young lady with dark curly hair and a plentiful bosom sauntered over.
“I expected Silas to be with you, lord marshall. Has he lost his way, then?” She smiled provocatively.
“He’ll be along, Grania. Go on now, Lady Briana and I have business to discuss.”