Time After Time (94 page)

At the laird’s nod, Bearach, the eldest son shouted orders to ready their soldiers.

“Well done, my lady.” The laird winked at her, as if ignoring Feoras’ dispute. “You raised an argument Feoras could not refute.”

“My lord, may I ask two more things of you today?”

He answered her with a raised eyebrow.

Men clamored through the halls, Feoras and Bearach joining them.

“Continue.” The laird gestured.

“My lord, please give me a weapon and a horse.”

The laird gave his sword to Kaireen. “Take the lead with Bearach, but draw back when you meet the enemy,” he told her.

After a bow she followed after the men. Her heart raced.

Outside they mounted. Bearach barked orders and then led the galloping horses through the countryside. He pointed to the shortest trail back to her land, back to Bram. Though he was not her desire for a husband, he had done nothing that was deserving of being murdered. Her luck, he would become a ghost to haunt her.

Kaireen raced a borrowed horse to stay with Bearach.

And prayed she was not too late.

Chapter Four

Tree limbs slashed at Kaireen, but she did not care. She urged the horse forward.

O’Neill’s raced after her, their horses’ hoofs pounded in the distance. The smell of the ocean lingered in the air.

Did she hear shouts echo on the wind? She shivered. Or was the sound the keening of her family’s banshee?

To fight back the dread swelling in her chest, she glanced behind her for reassurance. Bearach and the others galloped after her.

Around this group of trees, and she would reach the clearing. After passing the last cluster of fir trees to the clearing, she turned the horse sharp. In the distance she saw Lochlanns battle. She sucked in a breath.

Two of her father’s guards lay dead. She scanned the men fighting to find Bram.

The edges of his grey wool cloak lifted with the sea breeze. His body slumped, but his sword wavered to block an attacker’s blow.

Kaireen drew the laird’s sword. From the weight of the blade, she lost her balance and countered by leaning backward. Sweat trickled down her back.

As her hand clenched the hilt, she nudged her mount forward. She wished she had asked for a bow. How would she lift the sword to do any damage? She raised the sword until her arm shook, but it was only halfway.

Mounted, she slashed the blade at Bram’s enemy.

Her teeth rattled from the impact. Blood spurted from the Lochlann’s leather helmet. The man sagged forward, knocking Bram down.

Anxious, she twisted her horse round, but jerked the reins to keep the animal steady.

Bram pushed the dead man away. He staggered and kneeled. His left hand clasped his bleeding side. Disoriented from loss of blood, he told her he was not sure if she had aimed her sword at his enemy or at him.

The O’Neill clan rushed in the fight. Metal swords clanked against each other as they fought the Lochlanns. Bearach raised his sword and ran toward Bram.

“No!” Kaireen kicked her horse forward, blocking Bearach. “He fights for us.”

Bearach gaped at her, but then nodded. He turned his attention to two giant men treading forward. He muttered under his breath, “Curse this woman for bringing us into a battle between Lochlanns.”

It would have been so easy for her to let Bearach rid her of Bram. Just one word and she would be rid of this Lochlann suitor and his quest to marry her. But she couldn’t allow it. True, she did not love him-only she could not tolerate the thought of him dead when she could stop it. It would never do to have innocent blood spilled on her account or here.

Blood colored the ground. The copper stench crept into her throat. Another enemy rushed forward with an axe in hand, roaring a battle cry.

The man inches from her when Bram stretched out his sword and pierced the man’s gut. Bram then yanked his sword out, his breathing hard. He fell back on the ground at the same time the enemy crumpled.

O’Neills swept the land; they matched the Lochlanns stroke for stroke. But the Lochlanns drew up their shields into a wall. One slipped away from the attack and headed towards her and Bram.

After dismounting, she heaved the sword with both hands, and wished she had asked for a bow.

Unable to lift the sword higher than her waist, she lunged forward at a warrior from behind. Surprised by her low lunge, the blade caught the warrior in the back of his upper thigh. The thwack of the metal against the bone radiated through her.

The sword went with him as he fell. He was not dead, just injured. He twisted his upper body around to dislodge the sword in his leg.

She bit her lip; now she was weaponless. Doubtful she’d have such luck again using the heavy sword.

“Damn woman!” Feoras raced passed her. With a swift flick, he decapitated the man at her feet.

She bristled and snatched her horse’s reins. Surveying the battlefield, she eyed a longbow. After maneuvering with her horse to the edge of the battle, she made her way to the weapon.

After dismounting, she picked up the discarded longbow and a handful of arrows from the dying Lochlann. She tested the weight of the draw, stronger than she liked, but she was grateful of her years of practice with her own bow. She nocked an arrow.

Her nerves made her hands sweat; she fumbled with the arrow several times until the tip slid into place. She took a breath to calm her nerves. If she could not keep her hands steady, her expert marksmanship would do no good. To concentrate, she pushed aside the thought of Bram dead because of her, and then took aim.

Five warriors surrounded Bram and Bearach.

Her arms shook from the force of strength required to draw the bowstring back. Kaireen released the arrow and the tip struck an enemy’s neck.

When she saw the arrow hit, she grasped another and sent it sailing. The arrow whizzed through the air and struck another enemy in the arm.

She readied another, but Bearach and Bram had cut down the other men around them.

After Kaireen scanned the area, she sent her last arrow into another enemy’s stomach. She cursed.

“Good shots, why are you upset?” Bearach speaking beside her made her jump.

“My aim was off.”

“But your arrows hit their mark.”

“No.” She eyed the bow thinking it refused to cooperate. “I aimed at their hearts.”

“Good thing you missed them not entirely and hit us.” He chuckled.

“The draw on the bow was stronger than mine.” Her muscles pulsed in pain.

Feoras strode to them. He snatched the long bow from her hand and then broke it across his leg. “You damn near got us killed,” he spat.

“No.” She crossed her arms. “Without my help, you may have lost this battle. I saved you.”

“A woman like you should be turned upon her stomach,” he smirked, “and given a good lashing by her husband.”

“I have no husband.” She smiled. “And I do not take orders from loathsome men such as you.”

He raised his hand to strike her, but Bearach caught his wrist.

“Do not let her anger you so.” Bearach nodded to the shore. “We drove the foreigners from our shore. Look, they scamper like frightened children back to their boat.”

Feoras jerked his hand away. He turned on his heel and chased after the departing Lochlanns.

He yelled for the O’Neills to join him and his scattered followers chased after them.

“Halt! Only a coward fights a man when his runs!” Bearach called, but Feoras and the others continued as if they had not heard.

Feoras descended, using the natural breaks in the cliffs to the shore. His sword rose. At the shore, he and the others slashed the fleeing Lochlanns.

He jumped into the Lochlanns’ boat and sliced at men holding their hands in surrender. Kaireen turned her head; it was shameful, what Feoras and the others did.

The waves lapped at the dead’s blood.

Bearach raced to stop his brother’s madness, but the last dying Lochlann capsized the dragon ship. Against the waves, Feoras and the others were left to struggle for air.

Once he reached the water, Bearach waded in. Kaireen bit her lip. If he stepped too deep, then he may lose his footing and drown if he wasn’t a strong enough swimmer against the undertow.

Red waves fanned around the boat. Bearach stretched out his arms, hauling Feoras and three others back to the side of the cliff.

Seeing the struggling Lochlann, Bearach waded deeper into the ocean. Bearach went under a few times, but he could not reach the distant Lochlann.

He fought the waves on his way back to the beach. Two of his fellow O’Neills had drowned.

On the wet sand, Bearach drew ragged breaths with the others he rescued. Feoras lay, sprawled out, but breathed.

“Do idiocy like that again,” Bearach stood and then shook water like a wolfhound. “And I will leave you to your grave.” Bearach returned to the others.

Then he helped Bram to his feet. Kaireen’s hands searched for the damage on Bram’s chest. His tunic was soaked with blood. She could not tell how much blood was his or the enemy’s.

Bram pushed her hands away. The corners of his mouth turned into a frown, but his blue eyes twinkled. “I told you to go to your father.” He continued to lean on Bearach for support.

“You are not my lord husband.” Her face heated and she strained to hide her smile. “Nor would I obey such a foolish command even if you were.”

“We will discuss your disobedience later.” Bram shifted his weight and grimaced.

“If not for me, you would be dead.” She huffed crossing her arms. “Why are men so thick skulled?”

“No, women are…” Bram started to argue. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and he collapsed.

Bearach ordered a travois made. The men scrambled into the forest to obey.

When the men returned, they dragged tree limbs with them. Bearach worked with the others, cutting pieces of the dead Lochlanns’ tunics to tie the limbs together. He gave his cloak to spread across the limbs for Bram.

After the cloak secured the travois, Bearach heaved her father’s guards’ dead bodies onto their horses. Kaireen tied the horses’ reins in a line ending with her horse as the lead.

“Ride slow with him.” Bearach carried Bram to Kaireen’s horse and placed him on the travois.

She nodded and then mounted her horse.

“A little rest and sewing is all he needs.” Bearach turned back to the other travois they had crafted to carry their injured. The dead were draped on their horses; it would be a slow journey back for the O’Neills.

Chapter Five

Dusk colored the sky in purples and reds when Kaireen returned to her father’s keep. With another glance back at Bram, she sighed.

He had not stirred since he collapsed earlier. It worried her more than facing her father.

Smoke from the chimney drew ringlets against sky.

Kaireen smelled the roasting pig. Her empty stomach rumbled. With a tug of the reins, the horse sauntered to a stop. She dismounted and then checked on Bram. His blond hair was matted to his head with sweat.

To her touch, his skin burned her fingers. Her father’s guards gathered around her. “Take him to his quarters.”

Two guards bent to obey her command. Another guard untied the travois, and then led her horse to the stable. Kaireen gathered her skirts and chased after the guards carrying Bram.

Past the bailey she spotted Elva. “Come with me.” She dragged Elva with her. “Hurry, he is hurt badly.” She thought she heard her handmaid chuckle, but the footfalls down the corridor muffled the sound. Noises from the banquet hall filtered through the walls.

They reached Bram’s room and the guards eased Bram onto the bed.

His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. Kaireen thankful for the movement, though his face was pale and dark circles lined his eyes.

Elva shooed the guards and they halted outside the doorway.

“Close the door behind them,” Elva directed her.

She raised an eyebrow at the audacity of her handmaid ordering her, but she complied. The wooden door clicked closed.

“Let them guard the door if they must.” Elva untied a leather purse from underneath her outer tunic.

Kaireen rushed forward and stood next to the bed. The dark room smelled of burnt hazel and honeyed mead.

“Light all the candles you can find,” Elva ordered her.

Kaireen’s heart raced with panic. Bram’s condition must be serious for her handmaid to instruct her as if she were a commoner.

Kaireen used the flint stone and lit five candles. She gasped when she saw Elva with her dagger in her hand. Why did she have Kaireen’s dagger with her?

Her handmaid cut away his blood-crusted tunic. “Bring the candles closer so I can see the damage.”

Kaireen rushed to do so. Her face flushed at seeing his naked chest. No, she was not in love with him. Lust, though was another matter entirely. She would never give in to lust or allow herself to be ruled by it, ever.

After dragging a wooden stool next to the bed, she set the candle down. She gathered the other candles and then placed them on the stool as well.

On his side were two jagged gashes.

“Will he d—” She choked. If he died, she knew her father would blame her.

Elva glanced at her. An eternity past until her servant spoke. “No, he will live.” She smiled at her mistress’s relief. “I have not forgotten the old ways.” Elva opened the leather purse, revealing pockets of separated dried herbs. “Bring me the water basin.”

Without thought Kaireen obeyed. Elva pinched fragments of brown and yellow herbs into the basin. She swirled the herbs around and whispered words Kaireen did not understand.

A fragrant mixture of hyssop, myrrh, and pine emerged. Still she added more.

Then she lifted her underskirt, revealing a secret holding bag, and removed three vials the size of her palm.

She poured the first two into the bowl, then stirred the ingredients, complaining about consistency.

The third vial she opened with caution. An acrid stench arose.

“Take your dagger and cut strips from his bed linens not covered in blood.”

Her dagger fell on the bed next to Bram’s right leg.