Divine by Mistake (15 page)

We didn’t stay on the small path I’d been following. Instead, ClanFintan led us away from the river and through the trees until we came to a well-defined road (obviously the one I had been avoiding). Shortly we came to a fork in the road, and we took the northwest branch, decidedly away from the river. I searched through my memory of my floating trip and decided that this must be a quicker route than meandering along the river road. Incredibly enough, the centaurs picked up the pace. ClanFintan and his buds seemed tireless as their gallop ate up the distance to the castle. Tracking me had obviously slowed them down.

Traffic on the roadway was fairly brisk, but all were heading back the way we had come. The groups of travelers were mostly made up of large families, where the women rode in flatbed wagons and the men either walked or rode horses alongside, usually accompanied by a small selection of farm animals. I did notice that the people looked prosperous and well kept, not like I’d imagined peasants would look. They weren’t scraggly with rotten teeth and matted, parasite-infested hair. Honestly, they were uncommonly attractive people—almost as nice-looking as their horses. This land must really like fine horseflesh. All that day I didn’t see one nag.

I couldn’t help but feel a little smug at the fact that my Epi was outstanding even among these great-looking horses. Actually, so was ClanFintan, but he didn’t fall in the strictly horse category, so I guess it was unfair of me to be smug about that.

I wondered, before we had crossed paths with any of the locals, if I would be recognized. My answer was quick in coming. The first family we passed began politely greeting the centaurs, but stopped as soon as they noticed me. Their polite greeting changed abruptly into exuberance.

“It is Epona!” The mother, who was driving the wagon filled with several adorable children and bags of supplies, noticed me first. Her children took up her cry and began waving enthusiastically.

“Epona!”

“Blessings to you, Lady Rhiannon!”

“May your journey be safe!”

I smiled and waved and felt foolishly like Miss America on a runway. But I’ve never been accused of being shy or timid, so I realized quickly that it was a feeling I could get used to. They were just all so nice! Guess Rhiannon’s people weren’t aware of what a bitch she was. Good thing for me. And that was pretty much how it went all morning. The centaurs kept up an amazing pace, and travelers headed in the direction of the temple kept trickling by.

We didn’t talk much. I wasn’t convinced that this pace was quite as easily kept up as ClanFintan had boasted, and I didn’t want to bother him. I spent the time taking in the local scenery, waving to my adoring minions and trying my best to maintain a comfortable, well-balanced seat.

The land was beautiful, lush and obviously prosperous. The countryside was covered with rolling vineyards interspersed with crops and cottages. Wildflowers decorated the meadows with splashes of orange and violet and yellow. We had to cross several clear, tinkling little streams that irrigated the green land. From the air and through the cover of night it had reminded me of the Umbria region of Italy. From up close it was more like England’s Lake District, except the hills were more tamed. And it was warmer. And it hadn’t rained. And, well, there weren’t any Brits. But all in all it was a land anyone would be proud to call his or her own.

It was midmorning when I spied some lovely brush cover (and some soft-leafed plants) next to another stream that bisected our roadway.

“Could we please take a pit stop here?” I admitted to myself, almost unashamedly, that I sincerely enjoyed any excuse I could find to lean against his body.

“What type of stop is a pit stop?” ClanFintan’s arms were covered with a thin layer of sweat, but his breathing sounded normal. He was in seriously good shape. (Note to self: yum.)

“It’s a stop that we use to recharge our energy and, well, to take care of necessary things.” Subjects like going to the bathroom get easier the longer you’re married. The fact that we hadn’t been married very long, coupled with the absence of even a nasty state-run rest stop, was awkwardness waiting to happen. No wonder I felt myself blushing again. “And I’m thirsty.”

“Oh, of course. I should have thought of that earlier.” His pace slowed to a trot as we drew closer to the stream. He spoke over his shoulder to the centaurs. “We will take a short—” he smiled at me “—
pit
stop.”

To their credit the centaurs tried not to look too confused.

ClanFintan twisted at the waist and slid his arm around my waist, easily lifting me off the saddle. As my feet touched the ground, I was humiliated to feel them crumple under me and I grabbed for his strong arm. He was quick to understand the problem, and I found myself facing him, securely wrapped in his arms, my feet barely touching the ground.

“I’m sorry. I think my feet have gone to sleep.” I looked up, waiting to see if he would make fun of my weakness.

“You need not apologize. You did not complain, so I kept pushing the pace.” His handsome face reflected only concern. “I should have been more considerate of your needs. Here, sit on this felled tree and let me get the circulation moving in your feet again.”

He helped me over to the skeleton of a fallen tree and lifted me to a seat near the broken trunk. My legs dangled down without touching the ground, and I grabbed at the dry branches to keep my balance. Thus seated I was almost level with his waist, which allowed him to easily pull my boots off one at a time. Then, starting with my right foot, he began firmly kneading and rubbing everything from my numbed pad all the way up my calf and back to my toes.

I felt suddenly all Marilyn Monroe–like as my eyes went to half-mast and a moan escaped my lips.

“Too hard?” He looked up from his work.

“Shh, don’t talk. My leg is having a deep and meaningful experience with your hands. Let’s not interrupt them.”

He chuckled deep in his throat.

“Is the feeling coming back to your foot?”

“All sorts of feelings are coming back to me. Which in particular are you asking about?”

He just smiled and switched to my other foot.

“Mmm. You’re very good at that.” I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion that a man is much like a puppy—he needs to be praised and rewarded when he does well. “Thank you.”

Having filled the praise square, my mind was happily contemplating the reward category, when he gave my calf a firm slap—which snapped me out of my decidedly R-rated daydream.

“I think you will have better luck walking now.” He lifted me off my branch and stood me next to him. He was right; my feet did work better now. But for an instant I considered pretending otherwise.

“Right you are. But before I put those boots back on, do we have time for me to soak my feet in the stream?”

“Just a short time, Rhiannon. I want to be certain we are within sight of MacCallan Castle before the sun sets today.”

“Will we be there that soon?” Knowledge of what we would find at the castle settled heavily in the pit of my stomach.

“You could stay here and let me take care of what needs to be done at the castle.” His voice was gentle.

“Thank you, but no. He is my father. It’s my responsibility, and I have to see for myself what happened to him.”

“I understand and I will be there with you.” He reached out slowly, almost reluctantly, and took my hand.

I realized suddenly that he probably didn’t want to like me. For all he knew, any second I was going to turn back into a bitchy slut who didn’t have any intention of caring anything about him, and who never wanted this marriage—temporary or not. The kindness he continued to show me was a testament to the depth of integrity he must possess. His reaching out to me must have been an amazingly difficult thing for him to do.

So I gave him my best “good boy! good boy!” smile and squeezed his hand.

“I’m glad you’ll be with me. But now I need some privacy to, well, you know.”

He smiled and squeezed my hand in return before dropping it and heading to the stream to join the rest of the centaurs. “I will be close by if you need me.”

“I’m so sure I’d rather die first…” I muttered as I tramped delicately off to find a nearby bush, being careful not to step my bare feet in any stickers. At least the hunk of cheese seemed to have stopped me up—which was truly a blessing.

Joining the boys back at the stream, I crouched and drank deeply of the clear, icy water, washing my face and running wet fingers through my hair in an attempt to tame my wild curls. Plopping my butt on the dry bank, I let the water run over and around my feet while I tried to do something with my hair.

“Allow me, my Lady.” I looked over my shoulder to see ClanFintan kneeling behind me with a piece of leather in one hand and a wide-toothed comb in another. I recognized the leather as one like the thong that held his thick mane (well, what would you call it?) of hair back out of the way. Before I could respond, he had pulled free what remained of Alanna’s French braid and was working the comb through my wild red tangles. I sighed happily and closed my eyes. In far too short a time he had it tied neatly back. “That should stay out of your way.”

I managed to moan some semblance of thanks.

“You had better let your feet dry before trying to get those boots back on. We will need to get moving again soon.” His voice was apologetic and his hands rested briefly on my shoulders before he stood.

“Okay. I’ll be ready.” I moved away from the stream, drying my feet in the tall grass surrounding the road.

One of the centaurs, an attractive young strawberry roan, approached me, and with a shy smile offered me something that looked and smelled like beef jerky.

“Thank you.” I beamed my appreciation for his not being a herbivore.

“You are welcome, my Lady.” He blushed sweetly before joining his buddies, who were forming up and getting ready to head out again.

I stuck the end of the jerky in my mouth and pulled on my boots, then hobbled over to where ClanFintan stood waiting. He, too, was munching on a piece of jerky while he tightened the cinch and made sure the saddle was ready for my butt.

“Okay, I’m ready.” I reached out for him and we clasped arms. I was up and seated in less time than it takes to spell
equestrian.

“Make it so.” I pointed forward, giving my best Picard impression. I giggled at my own joke. ClanFintan snorted and shook his head at me before he accelerated into his smooth, distance-covering gallop. I guess my humor loses something in translation.

The rest of the day followed much of the same schedule. We would travel until I felt as if my feet were no longer attached to my body and/or I had to pee again. I would clue in ClanFintan to my desire to take a break. We would halt for what seemed like ten seconds, but was probably about ten minutes. I’d get a brief foot rub so that my legs would function, then we would take off again, chewing on a seemingly inexhaustible supply of jerky.

Other than a thin sheen of sweat, the centaurs didn’t show any signs of tiring. My own exhaustion made me feel like a sissy, and I struggled against the desire to whine. But I figured whining was something that Rhiannon probably would have done—which helped me keep my mouth shut.

By the time I realized we hadn’t seen any other travelers in quite a while, I also noticed the sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon. Taking a deep breath of the cooling air, I smelled the distinct scent of salt and water. To our right I could see that in the distance the vineyards had given way to forested land and realized that we must be approaching the castle from the eastern edge.

“We’re almost there.” My voice sounded a lot calmer than I felt.

“Yes.” His pace slowed to a gentle trot. “You said the creatures came through the northeastern part of the forest?”

“Yes.” My voice was a whisper as memory replayed the forest scene in my mind.

“Then we will circle around and enter from the southwest. If they are still in the castle, perhaps the glare of the setting sun will help to hide our approach.”

Sounded like bull to me, but since English teachers aren’t traditionally known for their great battle strategies, I decided to keep my comments to myself.

ClanFintan made a motion to the centaurs and they followed him off the trail as we began moving into the setting sun. I could feel his muscles bunching and working and I realized the gradual incline of the land had increased and was now rising noticeably as we climbed up toward the edge of the southern tree line. The smell of salt was heavy in the afternoon air and I could hear the sea rushing against the rocky shore. The centaurs’ hooves made crackling noises as they galloped over needle-covered ground. The silent oaks and maples gave way to whispering pines, and I was surprised to recognize the tart scent of Christmas trees mixed with the salty breeze, and something else. It was a smell I couldn’t place. An odd fragrance, indistinct and sticky. And then we slid to a halt as the trees changed to rocks, which led to an abrupt drop to the ocean. This was one thing I definitely hadn’t exaggerated from my dream vision—it still reminded me of Ireland’s imposing Cliffs of Moher. The coast stretched before us as far as we could see, and in the north the castle perched like a stone guardian, perilously close to the deep drop.

The sun lit up the western façade of the castle, turning the gray stone to bright, gleaming silver. My breath caught in my throat and I felt a sudden, unexpected rush of emotion. If I had been born into this world this amazing castle would have been where I had grown up. I blinked my eyes hard and told myself it was the briskness of the wind that caused them to fill with water.

“My Lord, look there on the grounds surrounding the wall.” The palomino’s voice was grim and he pointed to the area surrounding the western gate. I squinted and followed the line of his finger. There were clumps of debris scattered around the outside of the castle, as if field hands had piled sacks of grain or maybe bales of hay or—

“Oh, God. They’re bodies.” My voice shook and I understood what the nameless smell was.

“Dougal, check for any movement.” The palomino nodded and melted back into the trees.