Riona (17 page)

With a growl and a glower, Kieran snatched up the cloak and started to wrap it about him when he realized his mistake. Tossing it to Fynn, he pulled his brat from the boys and shivered as he covered himself. His golden hair was damp and clinging to his head, as if he’d been in a shower, and his face was flushed.

Riona frowned. Here was more than normal body warmth.

Without a word, she stepped up to him and placed her hand against his forehead. When he made to jerk away, she grabbed the folds of his brat and held him. “Be still.” His skin was afire.

“We’d best be on our way,” he muttered.

“You’d
best go to the stream and bathe. Faith, you’re soaked and burning with fever.”

“I’m soaked from yon lapdog!”

“She wasn’t sleeping on your head, ox.”

“I’ll be fine,” Kieran insisted. “I took a chill during the rain. Now that I’m dry …” He cut his amber-shot gaze at Leila. “I’ll be fine.” He lowered his voice. “I thought they stopped such things at an earlier age than this.”

Riona took Leila’s leine off her and wrapped the little girl in her cloak. “Come, I’ll join you by the water,” she told him. “Why don’t you children see if you can gather some kindling? I saw some spring roots nearby that would make a tasty soup.”

“Shall I hunt?” Fynn asked, brightening. “I might bring back a squirrel or a rabbit … a bird at least.”

“That would be lovely.”

Riona waited, ready to do battle with Kieran if he did not change his plan to move out, but he offered no resistance to her taking charge. Instead, he ambled to the nearby stream, laid aside his brat, and dove in headlong, clothes and all.

Breaking into a run, Riona rushed to the water’s edge. She breathed easier as she saw the warrior’s blond head bob up, breaking the shimmering surface. As high as his temperature had been, she wondered the shock didn’t kill him.

“I warn you, sir, if you feel faint, get yourself out of the water for I’ll not be plunging in after you.”

“This water’s cold enough to wake a dead man. There’ll be no swooning in here.” A wicked curl tipped the corner of his mouth. “Although the company of a comely wench such as yourself would do wonders to warm me.”

Riona kneeled on a rock extending into the stream and proceeded to rinse out Leila’s shift. The sun was high in the sky, leaving plenty of time for it to dry before the night chill came upon them.

“She never did this until her parents died,” she said in a low voice.

“Who?”

Riona cast a sideways glance to where Leila, swathed in the oversized cloak, hobbled around collecting small dead branches that had been cast off by the winter.

“She talked as well until she lost them. I suppose the shock has yet to wear off. She was particularly close to her father.” Riona smiled at Kieran. “I think that’s why she’s taken to you.”

Kieran waded out of the water, oblivious to his clinging clothes outlining every detail of his fine figure. Riona looked away. Gleannmara’s king was entirely too attractive for his own good—or perhaps for
her
own good. She bent over the child’s clothing and rubbed it all the harder on the rocks, determined not to look, much less admire.

But it was too late. The image had embedded itself in her mind like a stubborn seed, ready to sprout at the least provocation. One would think she’d never seen a man the way she warmed from the bone out. Were it dark, she’d glow like a dragonfly’s tail.

“If you ever expect the child to wear that again, I’d ease my effort.”

Kieran’s wry observation struck Riona like a blast of north wind. Confound him, how could he possibly know what she was thinking—or rather, trying
not
to think? She swirled the garment in the water again, trying to destroy the perfect reflection of the man stripping off
his leine behind her. Thankfully, he moved away before it became obvious what she was doing.

As she wrung out her wash, Kieran appeared beside her again, this time wrapped modestly in the blue and gold of Gleannmara. The sapphire brooch of his ancestors held the cloak draped over one shoulder, leaving the other muscle bare. He twisted the fine linen leine dry and shook it out before laying it over a rock. Riona smiled as she stretched Leila’s smaller one out beside it.

Even if Riona were disposed to marry him, he was a strapping lord with a need for blood heirs. Few in his place would take on another man’s lot as well. Her
little brood
, as he called the children, had hardly endeared themselves to Kieran.

Faith, they annoyed him at every turn.

Father, this cannot possibly be Your will. I’m so lost and confused that I cannot think straight, much less discern what You’d have me do. For this I beg pardon. See us through, Lord, give us—

A loud crack drew Riona from her prayer. Kieran leaned against the oak, the small branch that broke his fall, dangling from one hand. He shakily slid to a sitting position, his face a mirror of anguish as he struck the earth. Alarm seizing her, Riona gathered up her long skirts and rushed to him. She caught his face between her hands as he closed his eyes and shook it.

“Kieran! Kieran, what’s wrong?”

His eyelids opened half way, as if leaden. “ ’Tis that wretched hag Mebh. She wounded me right enough with that stable fork. ’Twas just a scratch, but—”

“Where did she stick you?” He was still hot, despite his dip in the chilly spring water. “Like as not, it’s infected.”

Kieran winced as he dragged aside the folds of his cloak to reveal a sinewy thigh. Two gashes streaked with red and purple and oozing infection marred its swollen surface.

It served him right for taking excess risk, but Riona said nothing. He clearly suffered enough. Surely the night’s ride had antagonized the wound even more. It should have been washed last night in the seawater. Many men lost limbs or died from the stab of the ignoble
weapon as easily as from its nobler counterpart. For now, she’d have to hunt for herbs and pray she could stay the infection.

Or mayhap they should push for the crossroads. Could Kieran ride another half-day’s journey?

“Milady!”

Liex darted out of a hawthorn thicket like one of the Sidh’s own little people, his face as white as his eyes were wide. He half ran, half staggered into the small clearing, holding his stomach as if his haste pained it.

“Faith, what now?” Riona asked.

“It’s Senan and Maille, paradin’ big as ye please with company and flags flyin’ back there on the road.”

Panic jolted through her, striking a lump of fear in her throat. Forcing it down, she struggled to her feet, forcing herself to think. She glanced at Kieran, but he hadn’t moved, as if he’d not heard Liex’s pronouncement of approaching doom. Thank God they’d not lit a fire. Thank God Kieran insisted they rest away from the slige, out of its sight. She’d been so tired when they stopped, she’d have lain in her tracks.

“Where’s Fynn?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about him. He could snatch the fancy dillat right out from under Maille’s backside and neither ’im nor ’is horse’d be the wiser.”

With no time to correct the boy for his coarseness, Riona scanned the forested glen for Leila. The little girl stood near the water, watching her brother. At Riona’s urgent wave, Leila dropped her armload of kindling and ran toward her, cloak half on and half dragging.

“Liex, get the clothes drying by the water in case Maille’s men decide to water their horses upstream.”

“We’re hidden by the bend in the stream,” Kieran told her, breaking his silence with effort as he tried to rise and failed. “Just secure the horses and stay put and quiet.” If he felt alarm, it didn’t show. Or was he too sick to care?

Riona checked the horses and moved the wash as an extra precaution, despite Kieran’s assurance that it wasn’t necessary. Once the garments
were hung on the blind side of the hawthorn, there was nothing left to do but wait and hope the travelers would pass by without event. Leaving for the hostelry was out of the question now. Undoubtedly that’s where Senan and Maille were headed. All lords, secular and ecclesiastical, would be on their way to the Drumceatt council at the high king’s invitation.

By all rights, it should be Father Fintan making his way there. Riona’s heart wrenched at the thought. Fintan dead, his murderer at large, Kieran falsely accused, the lot of them running for a fair hearing and the sanctuary of Drumceatt …

And now Kieran’s fever. It was enough to make a grown woman cry. Except Riona had no time for such indulgence.

“Liex, you stay here with Leila and Kieran,” she said, once she felt certain the party from Kilmare had passed them. “I want you and your sister to keep a cold cloth on his forehead and neck. He’s quite ill, I think,” she whispered, feeling as if she’d stumbled into a new nightmare.

Riona dug through the sack the brothers had packed for them, producing the linen napkin their bread had been wrapped in. She handed it to the twins.

“When Fynn comes back, tell him to build a small fire and pack its bed with stones.” She thought a moment.

“Where are you going?” Liex inquired, a frown creasing his sun-pinkened brow.

“I need to gather some herbs for Kieran’s wound and fever.”

“Don’t leave us!”

Riona put her finger to Liex’s lips. Of course she couldn’t leave them.
Father, I’m so confused
. The little ones were terrified—and why not? So was she. Riona took a calming breath.

“Let’s eat and see if we can do so without making a sound.”

It was a miserable failure at distraction. Riona munched on a small chunk of bread until it was tasteless mush, trying desperately to hear anything aside from the sound of her chewing. The sound of horses passing in the distance, the occasional whicker or rise of a man’s voice, invaded the hush of the trees and the whisper of the moving water along the bank.

Judging from the trouble the twins had swallowing, they fared no better than Riona. Before they all choked, she put the bread aside and took their hands.

“We’ll pray,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper, “that Lord Maille and Senan keep right on moving.”

Pale and saucer-eyed, the twins nodded. Even as Riona’s words echoed again in her mind, a sense of relief came over her. The deathlike grasp of the children’s hands relaxed as they too received assurance. When she could think of nothing more to say, she just held their hands, listening for the enemy with her ears and God’s word with her heart. She should have recommended this “distraction” first, she realized above her heartbeat and the heavy sound of Kieran’s breath. Time seemed to stand, enveloping them in its stillness until a finch sang out in the tree directly over their heads, launching a conversation among the other birds. Like Noah’s dove, it signaled that the danger was over. The party of men had passed.

Crossing her heart with thanksgiving, Riona struggled to her feet on legs that had been numbed by her immobility.

“I’m off to gather what I can find to treat Kieran’s wound and fever,” she told the little ones. “Keep his forehead cool with this cloth, and tell Fynn when he returns to start a fire.”

“Should Fynn cook our supper?” Liex didn’t question the fact that their brother would return with game for their meal. Given God’s handiwork on their behalf thus far, neither did Riona.

“Just have him dig a small hole and heat some water with rocks. I’ll be back before it’s time to cook. Meanwhile, try to eat a little more bread and dip some in the ale to see if you can get Kieran to eat it. We must keep up our strength.”

Liex saluted most seriously.

Riona pinched the lad on the cheek. “Everyone clear on their duties?”

The lad’s head bobbed up and down. Leila gave Riona a somber nod and, leaning over, kissed Kieran’s forehead. Then, snatching the cloth from Liex, she raced for the water, the bulk of Riona’s cloak balled under one arm.

“And one last thing,” she said, following the child with her gaze. Riona
pointed to Liex’s sack. “Could I borrow your sling and a few stones?”

Surprise widened the lad’s eyes. “My sling? What will
you
do with my sling?”

Ignoring the slap of the child’s incredulity, Riona replied, “I should like some semblance of protection out in the wood alone. Your sling will do nicely.”

“An’ pity the luckless soul that crosses it,” Kieran murmured. So he was not totally unaware of his surroundings.

“Lady Riona is good with a sling?” This was clearly more than Liex could comprehend.

“If you think not, look at this.” Kieran pointed to a scar on his brow.

“You did that, milady?”

Her small protégé was impressed, but Riona cringed inwardly. Her foster brother had earned it most heartily, teasing her to distraction, but when he’d taken her hair ribbon, she’d let him have it with her sling. Faith, she’d never seen so much blood. She thought she’d killed him, and Kieran, dramatic as he could be, did little to assure her otherwise. Still, all these years later, she regretted it.

“Aye, I’m sorry to say I did. David killed Goliath with little more, and where would we be without Gleannmara today?” If she’d intended to demean her feat, she failed. Clearly Liex thought she could fell a giant with a child’s sling and a stone.

“Will you teach me?” the boy asked, handing it over with a tiny pouch of stones. “I’m not very good with it. Fynn is, but he never has time for me.”

“I’d be delighted, provided you promise me never to use it in temper as I did, for I hurt a good friend.”

Liex nodded eagerly.

“Be careful, lass. Don’t wander beyond shouting distance.” It was all Kieran could do to hold his eyes open. His words were rumbles of breath, little more.

At that moment, Leila caught back up with them and placed a wet cloth over his head, looking up at Riona with a bright smile. Somehow it bolstered Riona’s moral.

They were going to make it. Riona didn’t know how; she only knew that they would.

T
he proud hunter, Fynn turned the meat—a squirrel and a plump red grouse—on a green shaft of oak. While Riona hunted for herbs, he’d dressed his kill and prepared it with a skill that would make the ancient Fianna proud. When Riona returned and fretted as to how she was going to boil her herbs for Kieran, the lad produced from his travel sack a large cup he’d carved under Brother Clemen’s supervision. By heating small stones in the fire and placing them in the water, they were able to bring it to a boil. They carefully added finely cut slivers of wild fennel root and, as much for flavor as its curative nature, bramble.