Celtic Stars (Celtic Steel Book 4) (15 page)

"Parkin, what is wrong?"

"Kyra, I am just happy. Just verra, verra happy. I feared with the trouble ye had birthing the twins, that ye may wish or may not even be able to have more children.  I wanted a child of my own - with ye Kyra, one that was ours.  Ye know I love the babes, they are mine just as if I'd sired them meself. But - a babe of my own.  I never dreamed we could have a babe of our own. I am so very happy, Kyra. So, verra, verra happy."

***

They flew over the village and along the shoreline for some time. Higher and higher they flew until the lights from the festival were all but specks of dust behind them.  Even the sound of the drums had lessened and was instead replaced by the whirling of clouds beside and behind them. Gemma mustered all the courage she had in order to shape-shift in front of Red, but she had done so. Daenal's life depended on her ability to translate the communications of Red to Daenal and Daenals' ability to trust Gemma in this very precarious situation.

Red was simply the most magnificent creature Gemma had ever encountered, in her life or in her dreams, either one. 
Magnificent
. Yes, that was the only word one could use to describe the delicate monstrosity parting the clouds before her.  Her wingspan alone had to be over twenty feet.  They were getting closer to the Falls and Red appeared to being slowing and dropping altitude, so Gemma followed suit.

It's not far now. I will go in before you, then please, come in behind me
, Red spoke to Gemma's mind.

Am I losing my mind?
Gemma thought to herself.

No, you aren't,
came Red's gentle reply.

As they grew closer to the Falls, they heard the anguished cry of Blue.  The screeching bellows subsided, then re-started again, and the cave's echo propelled the noise out through the falls, and into the atmosphere with force. Something was killing the young dragon and Gemma was scared to know the truth. Surely, Daenal couldn't be hurting the dragon?

She is not hurting him. She is finally doing what I brought her here for in the first place.

What do you mean?
Asked Gemma with her mind.

She is a healer, I brought her here to help my fireling. She has finally realized that and he has finally as well it appears,
said Red.

But why are ye....here
? asked Gemma.
Where did ye come from, how long will ye stay?

We were summoned, myself, my King, and our fireling.

Summoned, who summoned ye?

Covar
.

T
WENTY-
F
IVE

O'Malley Castle - Council's Chamber

It wasn't like Lord Patrick O'Malley to lose his temper, let alone display it for the entire room to see. His voice was deeper, stronger and louder than anyone could have anticipated and when he roared the entire room shook. It was like the sound of a thousand lions and the echo itself was painful to the ears. His face was a deep red, then a stony gray and it looked as if his eyes would burst from their sockets. Slamming his right hand roughly against the council table, he rose, paced the room, roared again and slammed his right shoulder into the wall. The sentries guarding the door entered the room, astonished at what they saw. They were quickly dismissed by Ruarc and returned to their posts.

"Has he gone mad?" asked Dervilla, clearly concerned.

Flynn rose as well and paced in synchronicity with Patrick, back and forth and back and forth. Patrick roared some more, slammed his hand down against the table again and grew as pale as his under cloak.

"Leave him be," muttered Odetta. "He is fine. Leave him be."

"What?" yelled Ruarc. "What on earth has gotten into him? He is not a mon of temper and he's had no spirits."

"Odetta is right," said Lucian.

"How would that
witch
know?" asked Galen. "Has she cast a spell on him?"

Patrick bellowed louder this time before doubling over as if in pain, and then finally laying down on the hard, cold floor of the chamber, flat on his back.  Dervilla made to attend to him, but Lucian stopped her before she could get within three feet.

"Leave him be for the time, he is fine," said Odetta again. "But, do go fetch Vynae, we will need her services. Tell her to bring turmeric and frankincense."

Patrick roared again and rolled around on the hard floor for what seemed a millennium. Unable to verbally communicate, his face went from ghastly white to blood red, over and over again. Finally, his movements softened and his roaring stopped.

"Ye think he's passed out?" asked Dervilla, clearly upset by the entire episode.

"I don't rightly know," replied Flynn, rubbing his chin and shaking his head.

They all turned around to seek counsel from Lucian, who was grinning from ear to ear. "Bring some ale, he'll want some of that I can tell ye. And stoke the fire, its a bit chilled in here."

"Lucian, what is going on, what is wrong with Patrick?" asked Dervilla.

"There is nothing in the world wrong with Patrick," interjected Odetta. "Can't ye see it?"

"See what?" asked Ruarc harshly. "He's behaving like a crazed animal. Rolling around and screaming and not telling us what he's so upset about. It's unseemly. He's throwing some kind of a tantrum and I'm not impressed, I'm not."

"See it?" asked Odetta, pointing to a now-sitting Lord O'Malley.

Leaning against the council chamber wall, Patrick sat rubbing his right arm and shoulder. He was also smiling.

"What on earth is going on here?" screamed Dervilla. "I've had enough of the theatrics, someone better blewdy tell me the truth, and right now, or so help me g...."

"Wait," interjected Flynn. "Patrick, your arm."

Patrick smiled and leaned awkwardly against the wall, propping himself against his arm.

"Patrick it's wonderful," said Lucian who hurried to help him up.

"What's wonderful?" asked Dervilla.

"Dervilla," said Patrick, "do ye see me right arm? 'Tis not whithered anamore. 'Tis strong and straight."

"Patrick, ye are healed," said Galen, in astonishment. "I canna' believe it. Your arm, 'tis whole. I canna' believe it."

"Why can't ye believe it?" asked Odetta. "Doesna' your God perform miracles?"

"Aye, I've just never seen one," replied the preist.

***

Darina purposefully ignored the pain in her right side, she didn't have time to think about what that might mean, she had to get home, back to the keep - and fast. Leaving Airard with Covar was harder than she anticipated. She knew she would never see him again, but was somehow comforted by the thought he was with Covar now. He needn't fear what was to come, and for some reason she understood that he would never really ever be truly gone.

She had grown fond of him and yearned for some company for her long ride home.  Pulling his steed alongside her own horse, she carefully made her way down the side of the mountain, careful to watch their path. The sun was hanging low over the port in the distance, and it would be dark soon. She would have much explaining to do to Patrick, and she wasn't quite yet ready to open her mind to him again. There was so much racing in the background, dreams, and visions she couldn't explain, he would think her daft and she had no way to defend herself.

She looked up just in time to watch a shooting star pass over the Island. A good omen she prayed as she felt the heavy kick of her son.
Rory
. She repeated it out loud to herself. "Rory, my red king," she smiled and patted her belly.  Patrick would be thrilled to hear they were having a boy.

Patrick, my beloved. I have to find a way to back to you somehow.

T
WENTY-
O
NE

O'Malley Council Chambers

Dervilla sat motionless on the side bench behind the council chamber. In one day, she had loved and lost and she was emotionally spent. Any promise of a future with Flynn Montgomery was gone. It was clear he still cared for Aisling McTavish, as evidence by the look on his face when he realized she was the captive in Burke Lands. No doubt they would go to war with the Burkes, just as Easal had wanted, a condition of her ransom. They were all prepared for war. More than prepared, really, as it had been many years coming. The realization that the urgency set in for Flynn when his betrothed was mentioned was what sealed her decision.

There would be no future for her here. She would seek dissolution of her military commission and perhaps leave O'Malley territory altogether. There would be no suitable men for her. She wouldn't put her life in the hands of the annual clan games, and she couldn't possibly stay with Flynn here and married to Aisling, or worse yet, pining for a deceased love, a victim of the trappings of war.

No, she couldn't compete with that and she wouldn't.

"Are we all clear then on the timing of the attack?" asked Flynn, who was hovering over the drawings strewn about on the table.

"Aye. Aye. Aye," came the many and varied responses from the commanders who stood stoically in the back of the chamber.

"And, Dervilla," said Flynn, "have we secured the nets? And have we them all?"

"We do," she replied, matter-of-factly."

"And what shall be done if or when they deliver this Aisling person prior to flag-down"? asked Ruarc.

"They won't," said Odetta softly.

"How do ye know?" asked Dervilla.

"Aye, how do ye know?" asked Flynn. "Have ye held something from us?"

"Nay, nay, nothing like that," replied Odetta. "I simply misunderstood. Ochnar said 'the lass" and I assumed he meant Orla this entire time. Ochnar used Aisling to persuade us to war. Easal has every intention of marrying her tomorrow eve at sunset, after his victory, on the Island of Women. If I understand correctly the missive I received from Marina."

"Of marrying her? Easal intends to take Aisling as his bride?" asked Flynn.

"Aye, Marina made the arrangement and Aisling accepted willingly. I suspect Ochnar will be in a heap load of trouble when Easal realizes he took her finger."

Tears pooled in Dervilla's eyes and threatened to spill. Her head spun and she feared she may faint. No, there was a worst case scenario, her love's former betrothed could marry her clan's worst enemy and cost them all. Flynn's conflict over this new development would test the fortitude of any clan chieftain. How would he get on? How would she? He would be unable to hide his wrath, jealousy or need for revenge. She couldn't stand it and she wouldn't. She must leave, and now.

"I have a request, please," she interrupted the meeting. "I have a request, please, may I be heard?"

"Aye," replied Lord O'Malley. "What's your request Dervilla?"

Flynn looked up in astonishment and glanced at her sideways in question.

She ignored his attempts to get her attention and continued on. "I wish to petition for dissolution of my military commission."

"Why on earth?" asked Flynn. Suddenly afraid she intended to report him for inappropriate conduct, Flynn went to sit next to her.

"Effective when Dervilla?" asked Patrick. "We are to meet the Burke's in battle tomorrow at high noon in the valley. Do ye wish to leave a'fore then? Are you frightened? Has something happened? Is something wrong?"

"Nay, I am not frightened. As soon as the final outcome of the battle tomorrow is determined, and if it pleases milord, I would like to dissolve my commission then."

"I would have your reason," repeated Patrick. "Can ye give me a good reason?" he pressed.

"I...I don't know....what to say," Dervilla whimpered between tears. All eyes in the chamber were now on her, all the commanders included and she suddenly felt completely out of sorts.

"I can give you a reason," spoke Flynn, who rose and stood behind Dervilla, placing both hands on her shoulders.

"Ye can?" asked Dervilla, perplexed.

"Aye. I'd every intention of asking ye Patrick for Dervilla's hand prior to this moment, but I'll do it now.

Dervilla looked up in astonishment. "Flynn?"

"I am making my intentions known, and asking ye, Dervilla," he said, kneeling down next to her. Placing a tender kiss atop her right hand, he said, "Dervilla, will ye do me the honor of becoming me bride?"

Dervilla wept and stood, kissing him in acceptance of his proposal. The chamber erupted in noise, congratulatory cheering, and clapping.

"I'll wish to wed her this eve, tonight, prior to battle tomorrow. If it pleases milord?" Flynn directed to Patrick, who sought approval from Dervilla.

"Tonight it is then!" clapped Lucian, "'Tis a beautiful night for a wedding."

"Would ye have room for one more couple?" echoed a soft female voice.

Jamie Burke rose to his feet. He heard the voice, but he didn't believe it. The room was overcrowded with soldiers and council members and servants scurrying about, but he felt her presence nonetheless. A reverent hush came over the crowd as Jamie made his way around the room, searching for the voice.

"I am here," it said, from somewhere on his left. He turned, and maneuvered his way toward the sound. "Just in front of ye now."

Her aura was unmistakable, and his heart leaped in his chest.

"Would ye be wanting to marry this eve, my Jamie?" Daenal O'Malley asked the giant of a man who had won her heart as well as her hand.

"Aye. Indeed, I will," he said. "Indeed I will."

A
BOUT
T
HE
A
UTHOR