Eochaidh - Legend of the Horsemen (Book One) (7 page)

Jepson silently followed Meaghan back down the narrow track
by the creek, behind the lilac bushes and away from town. When they reached the
edge of town, Meaghan stopped her horse and waited for Jepson to ride alongside
her. “How badly have you been hurt?” she asked him, watching him silently wince
as his horse lurched forward.

Smiling ruefully, he shook his head. “It is nothing, Miss
Meaghan,” he replied. “Merely surface wounds, there is no cause to worry.”

She met his eyes. “Can you ride back to the estate?” she
asked. “Or should we find a place to hide?”

“I do not believe there is a safe place to hide,” he
answered honestly. “We do not know who our enemies are.”

“Daisy has probably reached home by now,” she said. “And
Father is probably on the way.
 
So, let’s
stay to the main road, so we can meet up with him.”

“That is a wise plan,” he agreed. “But perhaps, at first,
when we are so close to the village, we can stay just off the road and hidden?”

“In case the reinforcements arrive?” she asked.

He smiled at her. “Exactly so,” he said. “Exactly so.”

“Thank you, Jepson,” she said. “A very wise plan.”

Meaghan
turned,
ready to urge her
horse forward, when Jepson’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. She twisted in
the saddle, concerned that something was wrong.

“This is the second time a member of the Herdin family has
saved my life,” he said solemnly. “I once pledged to your father that I would
protect you with my life, should the need arise, because of what he did for
me.
 
Now he no longer needs to hold me to
that pledge because I now owe my life to you.”

“No, Jepson, you don’t owe me anything,” Meaghan insisted.
“You are my family. That is what family does; we protect each other.”

He smiled. “I am honored to be considered your family, Miss
Meaghan. But nonetheless, it is the Gypsy way.
 
When you saved my life, you gained not only a protector but a friend for
life.”

She put her hand on top of his and returned his smile. “I
will gladly accept a friend,” she said, widening her smile. “And if the
situation warrants, having a protector like you is not a bad thing either.”

He nodded. “You accept my pledge then?” he asked.

Meaghan could sense the importance of the words to him.
 
She met his eyes and nodded slowly. “Yes, I
do,” she agreed, noting the tightness of his lips and the pain in his eyes.
“And now, we need to get you home to set your ribs so you are up to the job of
protecting me.”

He laughed, then winced at the pain in his side and nodded.
“Now that is the wisest decision.”

Finding a narrow portion of the creek, they crossed over and
headed into the woods beyond the village.
 
These woods were well used for hunting and fishing, being a strip of
forest about a mile wide and extending from the village to the hill just before
the estate.
  
The trees were lush with
leaves, and errant vines had already begun working their way up their trunks,
helping to hide them from riders on the main road.

Meaghan looked around at the quiet beauty of the woods;
wildflowers grew on either side of the trail, their bright specks of color
interspersed in the high grass. The sun was lower in the sky, so it shone
through the tops of the trees, glowing on the leaves and warming the ground
below. It seemed so incongruent to what had just happened in the Magistrate’s
office.

They initially rode in silence, listening for any signs of
approaching riders, but hearing nothing but the skittering of woodland
creatures ahead of them on the path.
 
Finally, after a few minutes they felt safe enough to converse.

“I still cannot believe he swore an oath to protect an enchantment
that doesn’t exist,” Meaghan said, her voice still a whisper. “He’s a grown
man.”

Jepson studied her for a moment without saying
anything.
 
Finally, he spoke. “What do
you know about the Eochaidh?” he asked.

“Are you quizzing me, like my tutor?” she asked with a
smile. “Very well, I shall respond in like manner. Well, I know it’s where we
get the word jockey, except we actually pronounce the j-sound. And when we use
it, we mean a man riding a horse, not a man who is a horse.”

“So, an Eochaidh is a man who is a horse, like a centaur?”
Jepson questioned her.

“No, he’s a knight who’s a horse,” she replied. “If you
believe the fairy tales.”

“Tell me,” he encouraged. “Tell me the fairy tale.”

Meaghan leaned back in her saddle, thought for a moment and
then nodded. “I’ll tell you what I remember. Back during the time of King
Arthur, after things had gone terribly wrong and Arthur was broken and in
despair; a young knight came to him.
 
The
knight had discovered that Morganna had found a spell that would allow her to
travel in time. He begged Arthur to help stop her, for a spell like that was
too dangerous in the hands of one like Morganna.”

“What was Morganna like?” Jepson asked.

Meaghan turned to him and smiled. “Oh, I’d say Morganna was
like Lady Strathmore’s evil twin.”

Jepson smiled, despite his pain. “You paint a perfect
picture.”

Meaghan laughed. “Actually, ever since I was a child, I
pictured Lady Strathmore playing the part of Morganna. Not very charitable of
me.”

“Or perhaps it was intuitive of you,” he suggested, lifting
an eyebrow in her direction.

Nodding, she smiled. “That’s much better than uncharitable.”

She led her horse around a large rock in the middle of the
path and then met up with Jepson again. “As I said, the young knight went to
Arthur, but he was too despondent to help and sent him to ask Merlin for help.
Merlin tested the young knight and found him worthy, but because of Morganna’s
power, could not offer him much protection. All he could do was offer a spell
that protected him and the knights who rode with him from death.”

“So, Morganna could not kill this brave knight,” he said.
“Then the knight must have won the day?”

“So, it would seem,” Meaghan replied. “They slipped into the
castle and found the spell. But when they were ready to leave, they were caught
by Morganna.”

“But she could not kill them,” Jepson inserts.

“Exactly,” Meaghan said. “But Morganna was not stupid.
 
So, she cast a spell that aged them
prematurely. For every day as a man, they aged a year.”

“So in two months’ time—” Jepson began.

“They would be dead,” Meaghan concluded. “And that’s what
they thought when they went back to Merlin to tell him they had failed.
 
But he was just as clever as Morganna, if not
more so.”

“Did he break the spell?”

Meaghan shook her head. “No, he didn’t have the power to
break her spell,” she explained. “But, he was clever with words and their
meanings. Her spell stated that for every day they were men, they would age a
year.
 
So Merlin turned them into horses.
Immortal horses. They can live forever as horses, turning to men only when the
signs are aligned for them to be able to break the spell.”

“And who can help them break the spell?” he asked.

Sighing, Meaghan shook her head. “And therein lies the
problem,” she said. “According to legend, they seek those ‘pure of heart’ and
the name Herdin, our family name, means ‘pure of heart.’
 
So, the family legend is that the horses seek
a member of our family to break the spell and set everything to right.”

“Family legend?” Jepson asked.

“Of course it’s a legend,” she replied. “I mean, it’s been
over one thousand years since King Arthur ruled. Don’t you think in all that
time someone would have been able to break the spell?
 
Isn’t it ridiculous to assume that a herd of
large, black horses are running around the forests in Ireland without anyone
else seeing them?
 
Truly, Jepson, horses
are rather hard to hide.”

Jepson started to speak when they heard the pounding of
hooves from the road. Moving back into the heavier brush, they waited, silently
watching.
 
The coach and four thundered
up the road, careening to the side as it rounded a curve toward the town;
Meaghan gasped softly when she saw the insignia on the side. “Strathmore,” she
whispered.

Jepson nodded.

They waited a few more moments to be sure the carriage
continued down the road, and then Jepson turned to Meaghan. “I don’t think we
have the luxury to take our time,” he said. “I had heard that Lady Strathmore
was a sponsor of Murphy, and she will not be happy when she reaches his
office.”

Meaghan nodded. “Let’s keep to this path as long as we can,”
she suggested. “It will provide us more protection than the open road.”

“You lead,” Jepson said, “and if they come upon us and I
cannot keep up, you must go ahead and get your father.”

She shook her head. “No, I won’t leave you,” she argued.

“It will be better for both of us that they only capture
one,” he insisted. “The other must get help.”

Not quite meeting Jepson’s eyes, she nodded. “Yes, I agree
with you,” she said. “But perhaps that is not a decision we will have to make.”

“I pray it is not,” he agreed.

Meaghan slapped her stirrups and urged her horse to a gallop
down the narrow forest trail toward home with Jepson following behind.

“Murphy,” Lady Strathmore called as she strode through the
door of his building. “I came as soon as Monty arrived home and told me what
you were doing.
 
What were you thinking—
”

She froze as she stepped inside the prisoner’s area of the
building and found Murphy lying on the floor and tied to the cell bars. “You
imbecile
!” she screamed, walking over and kicking him.
“You let the Gypsy overpower you?”

Shaking his head and trying to shrink away from her
onslaught. “It wasn’t the Gypsy. It was the girl,” he cried. “She had a sword.”

“You let a mere slip of a girl disarm you?” she scoffed,
kicking him harder. “Well, at least they have no idea of why you captured the
Gypsy.”

Murphy groaned, and Lady Strathmore stared down at him, her
eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Tell me what you’ve done, Murphy.”

“Nothing.
 
I
ain’t
done nothing,” he pleaded.

She stepped closer and held her hand out over his face,
stretching her fingers and moving them slowly in a circle.
 
Then she met his eyes and snapped her fingers
into a tight fist. Immediately he gasped, and his face turned red as he
struggled to breathe.

“I’m sorry, Murphy, did you have something to say to me?”
she asked sweetly as the color in his face turned from red to purple. “Perhaps
you might have mentioned something to little Meaghan that I might want to know
about.”

Nearly unconscious, Murphy nodded his head, his eyes wide
and filled with terror. Lady Strathmore slowly unclenched her fist, and Murphy
gulped in air.

“You were saying?” she asked.

“I thought she was
gonna
die,” he
pleaded. “I had my knife. I was
gonna
cut her heart
out.”

“Yes, we all know how the little girl overpowered you,” she
replied. “Now tell me the rest before I lose patience.”

“I—I told her about the oath,” he stammered. “I told her we
mean to protect the enchantment, and we
ain’t
going
to let no one get in our way.”

Lady Strathmore closed her eyes in frustration. “And how did
she respond to you?” she asked.

“She laughed at me,” he replied angrily. “She said I was a
fool to believe in fairy tales. I should have killed her.”

Rolling her eyes, Lady Strathmore walked across the room and
picked up Murphy’s discarded knife. “You tried. Remember, you oaf?” she said.
“And you should actually be thanking her for saving your life.
 
Because had she believed you and ridden off
to warn her father, you would be dead.”

She walked back to Murphy, gently stroking his knife, and
then she hurled it at him.
 
He screamed,
closed his eyes and turned his face away as the knife sunk several inches into
the wooden floor between his two bound wrists. “Cut yourself loose and be quick
about it,” she sneered. “We need to stop her before she can get home and relay
the information to her father.
 
He will
not be so dismissive.”

She walked to the door and called out to her coachman.
“Assemble the men and horses,” she demanded. “We are going hunting.”

Galahad thundered forward, throwing up bits of sod as they
galloped across the meadow and toward the hill that overlooked the valley
below.
 
Lord John caught up with Fitz on
top of the hill where the butler seemed to be assessing the situation. “Where
in blazes did you learn to ride like that?” he asked his butler, pulling
Galahad to a stop.

“As a young man I was employed by the private army of the
East India Trading Company,” he said shortly. “I find I am still quite
proficient in both the saddle and the art of warfare.”

“Things that might come in handy in the near future,” Lord
John replied, gazing out in the same direction as Fitz. “What do you see?”

“If I might be so bold, my lord,” Fitz said, standing in the
saddle and looking out over the countryside. “I see a cloud in the distance
that could be caused by a group of riders.”

Lord John sat up in his saddle, staring out into the
distance and saw the same swirl of dust. “I see it too,” he said. “And it seems
to be moving closer to us. And I would venture to say that if Meaghan and
Jepson were still at their mercy, they would not be heading in this direction.”

“Exactly so, sir,” Fitz replied. “So the question is where
is the best point of defense? Do we continue on toward the village or set up a
line closer to the estate where we can present a more fortified front?”

Shaking his head, Lord John looked at the scene before
him.
 
On his right was a small wood,
often referred to as the
preserve, that
extended between
the village and the hills that bordered his estate.
 
Stretched before him was a verdant valley
that was about two miles wide close to the village and narrowed to about a mile
wide near the estate.
 
The valley held
the main road to the village and several small farms and looked like a
patchwork quilt of stone fences and crops.
 
To his left was the Old Woods, the dense forest that wrapped around the
borders of his estate and continued for miles beyond.
 
Turning his eyes back to the scene directly
in front of him he could see the approaching army was getting closer. “My
daughter is out there, Fitz,” he said. “I can’t sit here and wait for her to
find us.”

“Ah, but you know your daughter better than most,” he said.
“Where would she ride to escape the villagers?”

“The preserve,” Lord John quickly surmised. “She would be
taking back roads through the trees in order to escape detection.”

He looked out toward the riders and then twisted in his
saddle, looking back at the estate. “Fitz, ride back to the estate and bring
the men to this rise. It is the best spot for defense,” he said decisively.
“I’m going to head to the woods to help Meaghan and Jepson.”

“Very well, sir,” Fitz replied, handing him a small leather
packet. “And sir, bring this hunting horn in case you need to summon help.”

“Do you think of everything?”
 
Lord John asked, amazed.

Fitz nearly smiled. “I am only doing what is expected, sir.”

“Thank you, Fitz,” Lord John said as he whirled his horse
around toward the woods. “I owe you more than I can say.”

Riding behind the rise of the hill, Lord John was able to
keep his position hidden from the oncoming militia. Although the trail was
steep and narrow, and small rocks dislodged by the large horse’s hooves tumbled
down the incline, Galahad stormed ahead as if he were running on a flat grassy
pasture. Tucked low on his back, Lord John urged the horse to run even faster,
knowing the woods were only a half mile ahead.

As the ground swept past beneath the horse’s hooves, Lord
John prayed he would reach his daughter and his friend in time.
 
He should have told her, he swore
silently.
 
Instead of just preparing her,
he should have told her why he needed her to have the skills of a warrior.
 
She would have understood.
 
She would have worked harder, and she would
have been more aware of the evil around them.

He inhaled sharply.
 
He’d been warned. There had been rumors of secret meetings and secret
oaths, but he hadn’t paid heed. If he was not around to protect Lady Evaleen
and any other children they might have, he needed his daughter to be able to
not only defend herself, but the rest of his family.

Shaking his head in disgust, he knew why he hadn’t told
her.
 
It wasn’t her burden, it was his.
She was a young woman and, if they had lived in England, she would be preparing
for her coming out.
 
He couldn’t help the
wisp of a smile that spread over his face as he thought about his Meggie in a
ballroom with a pack of young, eager lads trying to impress her.
 
She’d take them down a notch or two and send
them running back to their mothers.
 
It
would be a rare man who would be good enough for his Meggie.

But would she even
have the chance?
he
wondered.
Would she even get to dance at a ball, flirt with young men, get
married and have a family of her own? Have I taken all that away from her
because I didn’t want to see what was happening around us?

He slowed Galahad down as they got to the end of the hill
and looked off to the distance.
 
There
were at least thirty riders charging through the valley, and as he watched a number
of them careened to the left and entered the preserve, their weapons clenched
in one hand and their reins in the other.
 
As he kicked Galahad to a run, he prayed Meaghan and Jepson were on this
side of the preserve and well out of the way of the mob.